#Lilac Dream Rose

[nerdyrevelries]

Castles in the Air

I'm extremely excited to announce that the game I've been working on for the past 4 years is coming to Kickstarter! Castles in the Air (CitA) is a tabletop RPG inspired by the novels of Louisa May Alcott and L.M. Montgomery. Players start as children with boundless dreams who will change over the years based on the relationships they form and choices they make. I think it's a really special game, and I'm looking forward to being able to share it with everyone.

For more information or to sign up to be notified when the Kickstarter launches on May 14th, please check out the game's page on the Storybrewers Roleplaying website. If that name sounds familiar, Storybrewers is the company that created Good Society: A Jane Austen RPG. I feel very honored that they reached out to me about publishing Castles in the Air. While Castles in the Air is a standalone game, its mechanics are inspired by Good Society, and if you like Good Society, I think you'll like CitA too as it allows you to tell similarly compelling stories.

I will be creating some blog posts talking about the literary inspirations for different parts of the game in the weeks leading up to the Kickstarter and during its run. I will be using this as a master post to keep track of all of them, so make sure to check back here or follow my blog if you are interested.

Blog Posts

Meg March: The Nurturer

Jo March: The Pragmatist

[dollyswan]

Lilac heaven ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[lilac-nites]

I ended up getting these three MorunxMuuna Stoik pairs of tights from the AtePie summer sale. I've been eyeing these for awhile and this was the perfect time to get it.

[havoc-bloom]

Magenta Lilacs - A Lankmann x Reader Fic

IT’S HERE Y’ALL!!

OVER TWO WEEKS AND 2,700 WORDS LATER, AND ITS DONE!

Kicking my feet and flapping my hands and positively freaking out, I enjoyed writing this so much and I hope you guys enjoy reading it!

This is it. My magnum opus. Enjoy <3 (fic under the cut)

 “ But I’ve been anywhere And it’s not what I want I wanna be still with you “ - Texas Reznikoff, Mitski

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Chill breeze snuck its way inside as you opened the door, shutting it behind you quickly to prevent the warmth inside your home from getting out. As you took off your coat and began making your way to the coat closet, you noticed the bit of commotion coming from the attic. ‘Must be Lankmann fucking around again.’ You thought. As Lankmann didn’t quite enjoy staying with Pastra for too long, whether that be because they fought or argued, or he was in need of someone else for company, you allowed Lankmann to stay over whenever he needed. And today he was making a ruckus in your attic. Not out of character for him, by any means.

You quickly put your coat away before making your way upstairs, stopping at the top and looking up at the attic door. You knocked against the wall a few times, hopefully garnering Lankmann’s attention. “Hey, I’m home!” You said. All the noise stopped. The door creaked open, and inside you could see bright red eyes staring back at you. “Just came by to tell you I’m back. Tell me if you need anything, ok?” You smiled. You heard him chuckle before shutting the hatch again, and chaos ensued once more. At this rate, you don’t think insurance would cover how much he’d tarnished your attic.

You sighed, making your way to your room. You sat your work bag down next to your bed, moving to turn on the lamp and-

…You paused.

You noticed something else on your nightstand. A small glass jar, about halfway filled with water, with a single flower inside. You couldn’t tell what it was at first, but you assumed it was a lilac, though it was more magenta than most. You’ve never bought lilacs. You noticed a note of some kind next to the jar, and you picked it up to read it.

“From no one in particular,” it read on the front in neat, near-perfectly printed cursive. You didn’t recognize the handwriting; it looked typed, but you could tell it was written with ink. You turned it around.

“Don’t mind the gift. It’s a way of saying thank you.” A little heart was drawn after the sentence. You smiled. Just below that, there was a little doodle of the lilac that sat in front of you. It wasn’t overly detailed, but it was nice, to be fair. You wondered who would give this to you…

…Ah. Right. Now you realized it was pretty obvious.

You smirked, cracking your knuckles before moving to your desk and sitting down. You powered on your laptop and muttered to yourself as you logged in and launched your browser. “Time to look up flower symbolism…” You scoffed. It was a bit of a stretch, but that was a very oddly specific flower. If he wanted to give you just any flower, you doubted it would’ve been a lilac.

Your first search; pink lilacs. But looking through the results, you noticed none of these look like the flower in the vase. Second search; magenta lilacs. Bingo. Scrolling through the images, it confirmed that this was pretty much what was given to you. Just have to add “symbolism” after it, and…

“Magenta lilacs symbolize love and passion…” Your face flushed red. If this was really given to you by who you think it was, then that means…

He wouldn’t, would he? Would he even know about this symbolism stuff? Surely it was a coincidence! Maybe he just saw the flower and it reminded him of you somehow? It had to be completely random then, nothing more! He doesn’t see that in you, right?

…Or does he?

You pushed yourself away from the desk, spinning in your chair. You’ll think about it. Yeah, that’s what you’re going to do, you’re going to mull over it for a while and see where that takes you. It couldn’t be that bad. If worst comes to worst, it was a misunderstanding and you’d both laugh about it later on. You doubted there was a “good” end to this, though. What would even be considered “good” about this in the first place?

…But a part of you knew what a good end would be like. Damn your emotions.

As much as you absolutely hated to admit it, and as much as the… cryptid, for lack of a better word, made you want to put your head through a wall, he was somewhat charming. You’d dare to call him endearing, in his own twisted, strange, fucked-up way. So, why not entertain the idea? Life is a game, but so is love, and you planned to play along.

The next day, before leaving for work, you left a note on the kitchen table, signed with your name.

“I’ll be gone for a little longer than usual today. There’s snacks in the fridge as always. I’ll be back around 6:30!”

After you had left work, instead of heading back home as per usual, you headed down to the local florist. Talking to her had seemed to validate the somewhat extensive research you did on flowers, and by the time you left you had a singular pink rose. Without thorns, specifically; you made it very clear to the woman working there that you wanted the thorns removed.

When you got home, everything was quiet. Too quiet. Walking into the kitchen, you noticed your note was gone. You put up your bags and your coat, and you made your way upstairs. No noise came from the attic at all. Maybe he left? You shrugged off the feeling of unease, instead heading to your room. Pen in one hand, rose in the other, and a blank note on your desk, you began to write.

…

Carefully peaking your head through the attic door, you noticed how empty it felt. Most of the insulation seemed to have been compacted to the sides and covered with tapestries. Some were simple colors and shapes, while others depicted maps or famous paintings. A quilted rug took up most of the floorspace. A makeshift desk had been made at one side, which you noticed was covered in papers. There was even an inkwell with a quill inside, along with a few bottles of ink sitting at the edge of the desk. You liked the new look of it, if you were honest with yourself. It looked lived-in. It looked homely.

You scrambled up into the little room, trying your hardest not to drop or spill the glass you were holding, but eventually you were able to get up and approach the desk. You pushed aside some of the papers, placing down the glass with the rose inside and propping up the note next to it, when something caught your eye.

A bright yellow sticky-note, attached to one of the papers. It had a list on it. The writing was nearly illegible, rushed cursive. Being close to unable to read it, you decided to check the paper it was attached to instead.

It was a guide to flower symbolism and gifting.

You saw the names of some flowers were underlined, others crossed out. Some had multiple meanings for different colors underneath them, some circled as well. You took a look at the underlined ones. Tulips. Gardenias. Hydrangeas. Roses, most notably red and pink ones, as those colors were circled specifically. And, of course, lilacs. Under it, magenta was circled in bright red pen. You took another look at the note attached. Comparing what you had read to what was written, it was a list of the flowers underlined. At the very bottom, in bold, was two words, highlighted in red and circled a dozen times over.

“Magenta lilacs”

Your face flushed. So it was him after all. And he did know what he was doing. You checked the little description on the paper for pink roses. Just to check, to make sure what you were giving him meant what you think it did.

“Pink roses usually symbolize gratitude or admiration. While the color is not traditionally associated with love or romance, gifting a pink rose without thorns can symbolize a first love, or having loved someone since you first laid eyes on them.”

You smiled. As curiosity had now gotten the better of you, you decided to peek at the other papers. It wouldn’t hurt, right? Just to check out what he was working on. You’d constantly hear him up here, most likely hanging up the tapestries and making his desk, but a part of you wondered what else he was doing up here that didn’t involve renovating your attic.

Notes. Doodles, depicting mostly flowers. Lists. Rough blueprints. Scrapped video scripts. Some crumpled up, some laying in little stacks, all of them strewn about the desk. You noticed one of them. It was oddly shaped, as if it had been cut out. On it read the number 6. You flipped it over, and it was a doodle… of what appeared to be you. It wasn’t at all detailed or expertly made, but something about it was charming. You began to feel butterflies in your chest.

Flitting through papers and finding these little oddly-shaped doodles, you assembled about 12 of them. A few were lilacs, similar in style to the one drawn on the note he gave you. A select two or three were writing, which you recognized as lyrics. Lyrics of songs you introduced him to. However, the overwhelming majority of these cut-outs were sketches of you. Some in just pencil, others lined with ink, all of them with little hearts or stars doodled on the side. All of them were numbered on the back. You spotted something else as well. Plans for what looked like a cork board above the desk, with numbers in different spots around it.

He was making a bulletin board dedicated to you.

Suddenly you felt a kind of giddiness. An odd feeling you couldn’t quite place. It was like there were clouds in your stomach. A light feeling, a mix of nervousness and adrenaline. That’s when it dawned on you that you weren’t just entertaining the idea of love anymore. It wasn’t a fun concept of “maybe I do like him,” it wasn’t just a game anymore. You actually had fallen in love with him. And you fell deep.

…Fuck.

You could only imagine how red your face was as you left the desk, out of the attic, and back into your room, before flopping directly onto your bed and screaming into your pillow. Damn your emotions, damn your brain, damn it all. The only words coursing through your mind were expletives upon expletives, still processing what you stumbled across. But like you did when you first found that lilac, you decided to sleep on it. Just go to bed. And in the morning, it’ll all make more sense. That’s how it works, right? Your brain would be clear in the morning. And everything would be better.

…

You woke up at nearly three in the morning to loud clattering in the attic. So he was back after all.

Groaning, you sat up, still groggy. “What the hell?” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes before getting out of bed and shakily making your way out of your room. The clattering continued above you, along with what sounded like heavy running and pacing from one side to another. Admittedly you were curious. It wasn’t unlike him to be noisy, but never this late at night. Curiosity killed the cat, you thought.

But satisfaction brought it back.

Hesitantly, you opened the attic door just barely, and peeked inside. You caught a glimpse of Lankmann pacing, back and forth, back and forth, muttering to himself, though you couldn’t make out any words. It wasn’t until he started speaking a little louder that you could hear what he was saying.

“-but a pink rose! A pink rose without thorns! That can’t be a coincidence, it’s so specific, so distinct… God dammit, I’m overthinking about a flower!” You heard him sigh, before muttering a few incoherent things under his breath.

He was losing his mind up here over you. You couldn’t help but smile. He left you in such emotional turmoil, it was only fit you did the same. You opened the door just a little more…

…A loud creak resonated from the hinges. In a blur of black and yellow Lankmann was gone. You didn’t see exactly where he went, but you knew he was still in there. Hiding in the shadows. You opened the door entirely, stepping inside of the attic, and looking around. Everything was the same as it once was, except for one thing. A cork board, hung above the desk, covered in pins and papers. Just like what you saw on the blueprints.

As you started to approach it, something moved in the corner of your vision. In the same second it was in front of you, blocking your view of the board. Lankmann.

“Hello! Why are you up this early? It’s much too late at night for you to be awake yet, you should be headed back to bed!” He gestured for you to leave. You stood your ground. “I’m not moving. What’s that behind you?” You questioned. He gave a shaky smile. “Nothing, nothing! You shouldn’t be worried about it. What you should be worried about is getting some sleep!” You noticed him beginning to fidget with his hands.

“What are you so worried about?” You questioned. “It’s just a board, right?” He nodded quickly. “Yes! That’s why you shouldn’t mind it at all! I think-” ''Then you shouldn’t mind me taking a look at it.” You tried pushing past him, to which he grabbed you and placed you back in front of him. “No, it’s not any of your concern! You really should go back to bed, I may not need sleep but you definitely do! Come on, you need to take care of yourself-”

“Lankmann!” You said sternly. He immediately stopped talking. You sighed. “I know what it is. I saw the blueprints for it already.” His face instantly turned bright red, and you smirked. “Oh, you- Hahahah! You know! You… know already! Heheh, yeah, you- you did come up here and give me that rose, yeah you… You did see that. Heh. I am so sorry-”

You finally were able to move past him, and now you got a much better look of the board. Maybe the concept was… a little stalker-ish, but it’s the thought that counts. In your mind, it was pretty, in all honesty.

“I think it looks nice.” You said. “And you even remembered my songs…” You couldn’t help but smile. It was uncharacteristically sweet of him. You looked back and saw him standing, still as a statue, uncontrollably fiddling with his hands. If he could sweat, he would be sweating bullets by now. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’s alright. I appreciate the sentiment.” You noticed his shoulders relax, if only slightly. “But you are kinda right, I should head back to bed. Heh.” You moved away from the board. “G'night, Lank…” You mumbled as you passed by him.

“...Wait.” You turned around, and he grabbed your hands, pulling you toward him and pressing his forehead to yours. You stood, a little dazed, before he pulled away slightly. “...I can’t kiss you. I don’t have lips.” He chuckled. “I can though.” You leaned in close and placed a quick kiss on his forehead, watching him pause for a moment before pulling you into an embrace.

He wrapped his arms around you, laughing hysterically as he lifted you off the ground and spun you around, and you laughed with him. When he placed you back down, you could see he was smiling bigger than you’d possibly ever seen, still in the middle of a laughing fit as he held you. “Who would’ve thought it! You and me? And I thought it was wishful thinking! Thank you, thank you!”

He unwrapped his arms from around you, now holding your hands in his, still smiling like a madman. You couldn’t help but smile.

“No. Thank you.” You gave him another kiss, before pulling away to head back down. “Goodnight, Lank. And thanks for the flowers.” His smile softened. “Goodnight. And thank you too.”

…

Entering your room, you glanced at the clock next to your bed. 3:47 AM. You sighed. Before you got into bed though, you took another look at the lilac that now sat on your dresser. You couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t just a game anymore. You actually fell in love with him, and you fell deep.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

~ end ~

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

So to Tsubaki's sub class. How many times do you accidentally interrupt your master and his eve. Have you actually caught them in the act once?

All of them said nothing reading the question but Shamrock looks to sigh rubbing the back of his head. "Lets just say we have a few times. Or almost more than that. Since Master is married now and all, we try not to bother them if their....heated." he said in quotes.

"To say the least, I believe we did that about 10 times by accident so far." Berkia said as well when the others think. "But I can't remember if we caught them in the act."

"I have....but that was an accident. I was delivering some things to him but ended up walking in while he was well..I'm not going to say but they were going to. So yeah." the others heard Higan said this but geez, that explains a lot.

[1introvertedsage]

In Time of Daffodils

In time of daffodils (who know the goal of living is to grow) forgetting why, remember how

In time of lilacs who proclaim the aim of waking is to dream, remember so (forgetting seem)

In time of roses (who amaze our now and here with paradise) forgetting if, remember yes

In time of all sweet things beyond whatever mind may comprehend, remember seek (forgetting find)

and in a mystery to be (when time from time shall set us free) forgetting me, remember me

~E.E. Cummings~

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 2: What A Great Freakin’ Way To Start The Day

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary: When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you never expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you’re around him the more you hate him, but you can’t help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team. (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy,

Word Count: 5.2K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

The morning begins the same way it always does, with your neighbor Mike blasting "I Will Always Love You" in his apartment at exactly 8 am just as he had each day since you met two years ago. It was the only constant in your life, but at least you didn't have to use an alarm clock anymore. The sound of Mike belting out the lyrics at the top of his lungs was enough to wake everyone in the whole building, including the people on the eighth floor, five stories above him.

But because Mike bought the super’s probably illegally made cologne and because the super was dating Mike’s mother, something that made you regret supe hearing very much, it never stopped despite the numerous complaints.

Then again it was Annie's favorite thing about sleeping over, she liked to scream the lyrics back at the wall and jump on your bed like a crazy banshee. Honestly you hoped that it would stop after Ben had pretended to be your boyfriend, that Mike would finally figure it out and give up.

Guess not.

You sit up in your bed, stretching your hands over your head while humming the chorus under your breath, but you were more of an ABBA fan. If Mike had decided to serenade you with "Take A Chance On Me" or even Aretha Franklin's "You're All I Need to Get By," you might have looked at him differently.

The memory of the dream of his mullet smothering you in your sleep momentarily passes over your mind, causing a shudder to travel down your spine. Or maybe not.

Your bedroom was similar to your living room, covered in plants. Trailing jasmine and bougainvillea blanketed the wall behind your bed in deep red and white, budding lavender, lilac, and honeysuckle sat in pots along the top of your dresser, and a blush colored rose bush, that never went out of bloom, stood proudly in the corner. The only difference was that there were two large piles of books almost as tall as your ceiling, some old some new, braced beside the rose bush like Roman columns. You kept trying to remember to buy a bookshelf, but each time you thought about going to pick one up, Butcher usually called and asked you to help out. Both piles were covered almost completely in pothos and more hung from the brick walls above your only window, that opened the floor length pale yellow curtains with a flick of your hand.

An annoyed purring sound greets your ears as the honeyed light from the now open window wisps over your covers. Bean, your cat, stalks up from the end of the bed, his yellowed eyes narrowed with annoyance at being woken up so early while his charcoal gray coat turns lighter in the brilliant sunlight. Last night he had been in your bedroom when you got home, which meant that he hadn't been around Ben when he came in.

A good thing, because Bean hated just about everyone except Butcher, which you thought was weird. But whenever Butcher dropped by to talk to you Bean always came over to look for rubs, while hissing at anyone who tried to interrupt them. Hughie was actually afraid of Bean, and because Bean was a cat he immediately picked up on this and purposely would jump on the couch next to Annie so Hughie couldn't sit there, Bean also followed after Hughie to the bathroom and waited outside the door to swipe at his ankles whenever he would come out.

But you didn't love him any less.

He puts his paw on your thigh lightly extending his claws to get your attention.

"Oh are you talking to me now?" You smile, rubbing him behind the ears. "I thought you were angry because I woke you up?"

He purrs and pushes his chunky gray head against your hand, but startles when the song switches to "My Heart Will Go On" which causes Mike's mother to join in to his karaoke session.

I'd move if my apartment wasn't so damn cheap.

"Maybe they should take the show on the road. Huh buddy?"

Bean purrs his response while pushing his head further into your hand.

His mom wasn't that bad of a singer, in fact, you thought that you remembered eavesdropping on a conversation between her and the super when she talked about a career as a cabaret singer a while ago.

"Come on, let's see if Gramps killed any of my plants." You smile down at your cat. "If he did I'm going to turn him into a tree."

Bean purrs in agreement.

You get out of bed, adjusting your shirt back down over your shorts before walking to the door with Bean following behind you. You step out into the cool hallway, with more enthusiasm than usual as you try to escape the butchering of the Titanic's soundtrack and collide into something warm and wet.

It takes you exactly seven seconds to realize that the warm, wet, thing that your face is currently stuck to, is in-fact Ben's chest, his shirtless chest. Why he's standing in the hallway outside your door, soaking wet and wearing a towel you have no idea. All you know is that your face is physically laying against the warm flesh of his pectoral muscles.

"Why are you NAKED?" You scream as you peel yourself off of him and turn your gaze away. Your face felt so warm that it was like you'd been standing in front of a volcano for too long and you were sure that you had blushed to the roots of your hair.

You'd only seen him without his shirt on once, when the door to his bedroom was cracked at the apartment he shared with the rest of the group. But it was from the back and you had been walking by to go to the bathroom, and you hadn't looked…

Well, you may have stopped for a second to admire the powerful muscles on his muscular back and maybe thought about waiting for him to turn around so you could see if the front was as good as the back… but you hadn't.

And he certainly hadn't been soaking wet then, and it made you hate him more now, because no one should look as good as he does soaking wet. You personally knew that you looked like a drowned poodle whenever you stepped out of the shower, but him? Soldier Boy looks like he just finished filming a shampoo commercial.

You could see it in your head, him standing under a crystal blue waterfall with the water splashing against weathered rocks before running through his soft brown hair, curving around his broad shoulders, down his toned stomach straight down to his-

NO. Not gonna go there. You could feel your skin heating in embarrassment, almost as if you thought he could read your mind.

"I'm not naked doll, I mean I could be if you wanted me to." He smirks as he hears your heartbeat begin to pick up and reaches for the end of his towel. The towel that was almost too small to wrap around his waist and left very little to the imagination.

"NO!" You shout holding up a hand to stop him, but again brush the front of his chest.

Fuck, you could zest a lemon on those abs.

"Are you sure?" Ben smiles wider, taking a step forward. He's so close that you can smell your grapefruit mint shampoo on him and feel the humidity and warmth of his body as he stands there. For some reason the fact that he used your shampoo, and smelled like your soap, made you feel warm and tingly. It was almost hypnotic. You hated how much you liked it. "Because you're turning that cute little red color you always do whenever I'm around, and your heartbeat is kinda fast."

"No. I don't." You grit your teeth together. "Why are you standing outside of my door naked?"

"Maybe I was waiting for you to come out." His hand presses against the doorway next to your head. "You know, I already took a shower, but if you wanted I'd be happy to get back in with you."

"No thanks. I don't need a shower and I wouldn't shower with you if it was the last shower on earth and I hadn't bathed in forty years." You purse your lips. "Oh right, that happened to you."

Ben frowns at your mention of his time in Russia. You didn't often tease him about being trapped in a lab, you knew that it was a sore spot for him. Plus you'd seen the footage of exactly what those doctors did to him and it was enough to make you want to book a one way ticket to Russia and personally show them what happened when a tree got shoved up your ass.

You open your mouth to apologize.

"I was going to ask if you have any other clothes here. Mine are still wet from last night." He raises an eyebrow, but the humor is gone from his eyes.

"Oh. Um. I can take a look." You turn and walk into your bedroom, trying not to feel awkward about bringing up the lab.

He was a jerk, but he didn't deserve a reminder of how shitty the last forty years have been.

Truthfully, you weren't sure if you had anything that would fit him. Ben was a lot bigger than you, taller and broader. You usually did wear things that were a little big for you, but you didn't think that Ben would fit in any of them.

Maybe I have something from when my brother was here last time.

Darren often dropped by when he was in the city visiting his friends or had a new "business" venture. The ones that never seemed to last and the friends that always seemed happy to spend the moan you "loaned" him for his "best idea yet" as he always phrased it. But he hadn't been by in at least a year.

"It's really green in here too." You hear Ben say under his breath.

You didn't think that he was going to follow you into your room, you thought he was going to stay in the hallway, but no, he had followed you. And he made the room feel even smaller than it was with his broad shoulders and over six foot stature.

The sunlight from the window glinted off his still wet chest and it made your throat uncomfortably tight. For the love of chocolate pudding, WHY does he look so good all the time?

"You can wait in the hall-"

"Wanted to see your bedroom." He smirks. "Though I think that you wanted to show it to me last night-"

You ignore him and turn back to your chest of drawers while Mike and his mother switch to "What Makes You Beautiful" by One Direction. You wince as they begin.

"Do they always do that?" Ben asks.

"Yep. Since I moved in." You sigh, shuffling through your t-shirts.

"He's really got it bad Sweetheart. Maybe you should throw him a bone. Kinda seems like the poor guy needs to get some ass-"

"If it's any of your business- which it's not- I do not like him that way."

"Well they're a little loud." You feel Ben take a step closer to you. "But I bet you and I could give them a run for their money. We are in your bedroom after all, might as well make the most of it."

"I didn't know that you liked Karaoke. I'll keep that in mind for you 105th birthday party."

"What? No I meant-"

Bean purrs loudly from his position on your bed and you wait for the telltale sound of Ben shooing him away when Bean tries to puncture Ben's impenetrable skin with his claws, but it doesn't come.

You glance over your shoulder. Are you kidding me?

Bean is sitting on your white plush comforter, rubbing up against Ben's hand, purring while Ben scratches him behind the ears.

Traitor.

"Didn't know you had a cat." Ben says continuing to stroke his hand down Bean's spine, who stands up and turns so Ben can have a better angle.

"I didn't peg you for a cat person. Kinda ruins the whole all-American Man image you have going on."

He shrugs. "I like dogs more, but I don't hate cats. Usually they don't like me very much."

"I wonder why that is." You grumble watching Bean lean into Ben's hand again. "His name is Bean."

"Bean? Why?"

"Because when I got him I was trying to grow green beans in the linen closet and he would sit outside the door and screech until I gave him a green bean to play with."

"You were trying to grow green beans in the linen closet?"

"Yeah. Seemed like a good idea, but they like the bathroom more-" You finally find the oversized Led Zeppelin shirt your brother left the last time he crashed at your apartment and a pair of jeans. "A lot of my plants like the bathroom more actually."

"I was going to ask you why the bathroom floor and wall was squishy."

"It's moss. It thrives in humid environments." You hold out the clothes for him.

"Uh-huh." He frowns at the clothes for a minute. "So you're saying you wouldn't want a guy to serenade you like that?" Ben nods his head towards your bedroom wall, just as Mike and his mother begin to belt out the chorus. "Thought girls liked sappy shit."

"I'm not a fan of One Direction."

"Right. You like ABBA more." Ben turns towards your door to go back to the bathroom to change.

Shock momentarily spikes in your chest. "How did you know that?"

He freezes as if you caught him doing something bad, turning slightly towards you. "Um- well, you hum their songs a lot."

"When?" You cross your arms over your chest.

"Whenever you're on stake outs. Sometimes when you're reading those files or waiting for Annie at the apartment." He shrugs. “When you were walking last night you were humming ‘Fernando.’"

He noticed that?

"How long exactly were you following me?"

"Long enough." He raises an eyebrow. "Are you trying to keep me talking because you want me to change in here? Because I would be more than happy to drop this towel and show you what a real man looks like Sweetheart."

"Don't flatter yourself Gramps. If you drop that towel the only thing that'll happen is Bean will think you brought him a green bean to play with." You roll your eyes. "Now get out of my room. I have to change."

Ben begins to say something, but the vines hanging above the door push him out into the hall and shut the door behind him.

That felt good.

After you put on a white t-shirt, your favorite pair of jean overalls and your dark green converse, you make your way out into the living room. Ben is there, lounging on your couch like he owns it. He’s wearing the jeans and t-shirt you gave him, but you can't help but notice how the clothes are just a little too small for him. The way his muscles pull at the t-shirt, the way the jeans hug his thighs and butt-

He's getting way too comfortable here. You think to yourself to avoid the thought of how good he looks on your couch. How it almost feels natural that he's sitting here in your living room, inhabiting your space.

"So what's for breakfast doll face?" He leans his head back to gaze at you with a mischievous smile that makes a warm tingle travel down the length of your spine.

"Well, I'm going to have oatmeal and you're going to have whatever you want I guess?"

His eyes darken. "Whatever I want?"

"Calm down Gramps I meant that there's cereal in the cabinet." You roll your eyes to avoid thinking about the kiss last night and then thinking about how it felt for your body to be pressed against his in the hallway when you ran into him.  Which inevitably leads back to the waterfall fantasy and-

No. No. Not going to do that. Not with him. He's just good at getting women into bed, he doesn't care about you. You think about how he remembered that you liked ABBA. That doesn't mean anything. He doesn't see me as anything more than a conquest and he probably remembered that because he's changing tactics and trying not to act like a creep.

“You’re not going to pour me a bowl?” His smirk pulls down in an attractive pout.

“I think it’s simple enough for your little brain to do.” You don’t turn around from the kitchen cabinets, grabbing a raspberry from the refrigerator and popping it in your mouth. For some reason you noticed that whatever you grew tasted better than anything you bought at the grocery store. You hoped that it didn’t mean that your powers supercharged whatever you grew and that it was actually radioactive or something. 

Because that’s exactly what I need, to turn bright green. 

“There’s nothing little about me doll.” 

“Can’t you ever have a conversation with someone without it revolving around sex?” You grumble banging around in your cabinets to find your instant oatmeal. 

It was a valid point and you were tired of getting whiplash every time Ben acted caring and then flipping back to horny manchild.

“Where’s the fun in that?” Ben laughs. He stands from the couch and makes his way into your kitchen.

It was hard not to notice how small each room in your apartment looked with him in it. His head was only a foot below the ceiling, not to mention the kitchen was only composed of six cabinets, a small sink, a microwave shoved into a corner, a stove top, and a refrigerator that only came up to Ben’s shoulders. Your bathroom was worse, sometimes the shower was small even for you and you didn’t know how Ben fit in there. 

He probably had to duck down to stand under the shower head. 

And then as you thought that, the image of Ben standing under a waterfall comes creeping back, making the strawberry plant on top of the fridge, the raspberry vines, and the blackberry vines covering your refridgerator burst into bloom.

Thankfully Ben didn’t notice, because he was rooting through the white top cabinet in the corner for one of the cereal boxes. 

I’d never hear the end of it if he saw that happen. 

You glare at the plants in question, eyes shifting to a deep green as the flowers develop into fresh fruit to cover your slip. 

Ben pulls out a box of Lucky Charms, but frowns at Lucky on the front cover, who is throwing a handful of marshmallow charms into the air around him. 

Guess he's not a fan.

 “If I’d known you were going to sleep on my couch I would have gotten Bran flakes and prunes for you.” You smirk as you pour water over the oats in the bowl before placing it in the microwave to cook. “I know people your age need that kind of thing sometimes. Gets the bowel moving.”

“Make fun of my age all you want.” Ben steps around you to grab the almost empty bottle of milk from your refrigerator. “One day you’ll be happy to find out just how experienced I am.”

“Keep dreaming.”

His dark eyes meet yours. “You’re all I dream about baby.”

You can feel his breath on the side of your neck from how close he is to you, the kitchen seems smaller than it ever has, and he leans forward, sensing your hesitation. One of his hands goes on the kitchen counter to your right, the other places the milk down and then braces on the counter to your left caging you against him. 

“Do any of your lines actually work?” You say, throat tight.

“You’d be surprised.” He smirks wider, green eyes sliding up and down your body. 

 The air in the kitchen electrifies, something passing through the air between the two of you that makes you feel like your heart is going to burst out of your chest. His eyes are softer green now, reminding you of the color of fresh leaves on an oak tree in spring, bright, strong, and full of life. His body is pressed gently against yours, the strong muscles of his abdomen laying on your hips, muscular arms making sure that you don't walk away.

You try not to think again about how good he looks in your apartment, how calm and relaxed he seems when he’s away from Butcher and not wearing his uniform. 

Standing here in your apartment, he looked normal, human. Sometimes it was hard to remember that you were, when you could do what you did, when you saw him get hit with a car and shove it away with one hand. 

He was still ridiculously attractive, the kind of attractive that you’d read in romance novels and in classic Roman literature, the kind of beautiful that people wrote poetry about, the kind of ruggedly handsome that made smart girls stupid. 

You were really feeling that last one. Because you were desperately trying to hold on to your dream of being with someone that understood every part of you, but Ben was making it hard.

It wasn’t that the idea of sleeping with him was terrible. It wasn’t. It was far from terrible it was the idea of having sex without feelings that you didn’t like. You didn’t want to sleep with him because you knew that he only saw you as something to be possessed not as an equal or someone he cared about. Soldier Boy only cared about himself, that was apparent.

He’s only interested in you because you haven’t given in. You think to yourself. It's all about the thrill of the chase, nothing else. I'm worth more than that. I'm worth more than one night.

“In fact, I think it’s working on you doll.” Ben leans down towards you so close you can feel his words in the air between your faces, his eyes searching yours as if waiting for you to say no.

That made you pause. Ben didn’t seem to be the type of man who was patient. You’d walked in on him making out with numerous women on the couch back at the apartment he shared with the rest of the team, saw how he took control, saw how he didn’t seem to wait for them to say no or really say anything at all. Not to mention one time when you walked into the shared apartment and could hear Ben with one of his "dates" in his bedroom. Nothing about that seemed patient at all.

But this Ben standing in your kitchen was different. He was almost smiling, dark hair still damp from the shower curling on his forehead, the t-shirt damp around the collar, jeans a dark blue, and the smell of your shampoo fills your senses again all over again. It made you wish for this person all the time. The one that you could see yourself falling in love with, not the racist, sexist, and inappropriate jerk that seemed to dominate his persona at all other parts of the day.

Funny, the only time you’d ever seen Ben like this, was when the two of you were alone- well sometimes- other times he annoyed you without end and made you want to jump out a window. 

But why? Why only around me?

The feeling in your chest grows. It jumps from synapse to synapse, pulses along your skin, buzzes in your blood, tangles through your hair, and radiates through the air like a sound wave. Your eyes drift down to his lips remembering exactly what it was like to kiss him last night. How he seemed to consume you whole, how everything else fell away, how Ben curled himself around you, how he-

Your cell phone rings, breaking through the moment, and making you remember exactly why you didn’t want to give in to Ben and remember the kind of person he was. 

You push him away and pull your cellphone out of your pocket. Butcher's photo and name appear on the screen.

Shit.

"Hey Butch, what's up?" You look away from Ben, forcing yourself to calm your racing heart.

Ben perks up at the mention of Butcher’s name.

“Do you have any idea where Soldier Boy is?”

“Soldier Boy?”

“Seems like our blunt smoking man out of time has vanished. Been trying to text him all bloody morning.”

At least he doesn’t know that Ben is here. That’s good. I’d never hear the end of it if-

Ben snatches the phone from your hand and holds it up to his ear. “What the fuck do you want?”

The softness was gone, his eyes had hardened again, and the spell was broken. Ben was no longer relaxed, his shoulders were tensed and guarded, jaw set.

It didn’t take a genius to know that Ben didn’t like Butcher. Sometimes you wondered why Ben decided to stay.

Probably because the alternative was being frozen like Han Solo next to his son.

When Ben had knocked Homelander out, you hadn’t believed it, and despite Ben’s arguing Butcher wanted to keep Homelander a supe, and just put him on ice. You had no idea why, especially since Butcher had been gunning for him forever, but had the sneakiest suspicion that it was because of Ryan.

But you didn't blame Butcher for that, watching your father get killed in front of you seemed traumatic, not to mention Ryan was still reeling from watching his mother die.

You turn back to your microwave to pull out your bowl of oatmeal with a groan.

Now Butcher’s going to mock me endlessly about going home with Soldier Boy. We didn’t do anything! Well…

Your mind flits back to the searing kiss you shared and to five seconds ago when whatever the hell just happened.

“You want me to meet you in fucking Jersey?” Ben laughs.

You choose not to eavesdrop on the conversation, instead you busy yourself with sprinkling brown sugar onto your breakfast and plucking a few more raspberries from the vines.

“Fine.” Ben almost growls before holding out the phone to you. “He wants to talk to you.”

Of course he does. Maybe I can pretend to lose the signal with a piece of paper or a candy wrapper.

“Hello-“

“You crazy wanker.” Butcher chuckles into the phone. “Guess your night was a little more exciting than mine eh? Oi Hughie, you owe me a tener!” He shouts to Hughie who you can guess is sitting nearby.

“What? He’s with y/n! No way!” You hear Hughie shout back, muffled but there.

Damn it he’s gonna tell Annie. She's going to start sending me pictures of babies photoshopped in supe suits.

“You guys were betting that he was here?!” You shout making eye contact with Ben who only smirks before he busies himself with getting a bowl for his cereal.

“He left about two minutes after you did. Said some bullshit about a smoke break.” Butcher is smiling and you know it. “How was he? Was he as good as all the girls say?" Butcher coos on the other side of the line.

��Nothing happened-“

“Sure it didn’t Cherie!” You hear Frenchie crow. “Hopefully you got to relieve some of that tension no?”

“I hate all of you.” You grumble, and before Butcher can say anything else you hang up the phone and glare at Ben. “This is your fault.”

“What do you mean sweetheart?”

“You just had to follow me home!”

“You shouldn’t have been walking out there alone.”

“I do it all the time!”

“Not anymore.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“I’m not going to let you walk around alone in the middle of the night.”

"Like hell. I don't need a babysitter!"

"I think you do-"

"No I don't. In fact why are you still here? Why haven't you left?" You shout, snatching your bowl of oatmeal before moving to the wobbly kitchen table that you smooshed up against a window that looks out onto your fire escape.

"Because I tend to like morning sex. It's a great way to start the day. Thought you'd be interested." Ben winks as he sits across from you, barely fitting in the wooden chair.

Your phone buzzes where it sits on the table beside your bowl. When you flip it over, you see the text from Annie.

Annie: YOU SLEPT WITH SOLDIER BOY?!!!!

You: I'm not going to dignify that with a response.

Annie: That's a yes. TELL ME EVERYTHING!!!

You sigh and shovel a spoonful of oatmeal into your mouth, eyes drifting up to the top of your phone screen focusing on the time.

"SHIT! I'm late for work!" You shout before shoving as much oatmeal as you can into your mouth.

"Work?" Ben looks up from his bowl of cereal confused as you begin to run around the room.

The half-eaten bowl of oatmeal falls into the sink with a resounding crash, Bean's cat food lands haphazardly in his bright green food dish, and you practically run to your tote bag that hangs on a peg by your front door.

"I told you. I work at a plant shop." You glance back at your barren coffee maker mournfully. The thought of trying to get through the day without coffee seemed impossible, not to mention you didn’t have time to grab one on the way to work from your favorite shop just around the corner.

"I thought you were joking."

"No. Some of us have to work for a living." You run your fingers through your hair quickly pulling it back in a loose ponytail.

"You should leave your hair down." Ben says from the table watching you.

"What?"

"It's prettier when it's down."

"I don't have time for your misogynistic comments. Come on let's go."

"What?"

"I'm not going to leave you here in my apartment alone. You don't have a key."

"You could give me yours-"

"HA. No that's not going to happen. Come on." You tug on his muscular arm, trying to get him up out of the chair, but he barely moves.

“You know you could call out of work and we could spend the day in bed.” He smiles, eyes tracing your figure. “I mean you look good baby, but I think you'd look even better naked. Plus, Butcher and the rest of those fuckers already think we slept together so we might as well-“

“Not a chance Gramps. Either get up out of the chair and leave through the door or leave through the window. It’s your choice and I have no qualms with throwing you down to the street. But please don't make me do that because I can't afford a new window."

Ben rolls his eyes, but finally gets up to follow you. He actually tries to open the door for you, but you place your hand on his chest.

“Nah uh uh. Bowl in the sink. I’m not going to clean up after you.”

Ben sighs and mumbles something under his breath that’s lost in Mike’s inhuman screech of “Love on Top.”

Yeah. What a great fucking way to start the day.

[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]

Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist for this series let me know :)

(Photos for series picture found on Pinterest)

Taglist: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester @corruptedcruiser @winchesterwild78 @the-super-who-locked-wizard

@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro

[3000s]

💐 spring recipes

working on my spring list of recipes i wanna tryyyy, i'm starting with desserts but i'll add my drinks list next, don't forget to join my pinterest recipe collab board if you haven't already!

🍰 sweets + desserts:

vanilla lavender cupcakes with honey buttercream

strawberry & rose petal ice cream

lemon lavender sugar cookies

strawberry crunch cheesecake

rhubarb rose popsicles

strawberry rose snickerdoodles

white chocolate floral bark

raspberry & rosewater kulfi with toasted almond sprinkles

strawberry panna cotta with lemon shortbread

rose & pistachio kheer pudding

elderflower panna cotta with macerated strawberries

lemon & elderflower curd

tea jellies

rose milk popsicles

baked lavender blueberry donuts

earl grey & vanilla bean mille feuille with lavender

orange cream cheese cake

lilac dream cheesecake

lemon lavender loaf cake

rose cardamom shortbread cookies

strawberry rose cake donuts

double strawberry sugar cookies

earl grey tea truffles

lemon yuzu & matcha tart

citrus rose thyme loaf cake

rose custards

lychee rose cake

honey chamomile panna cotta

strawberry pistachio elderflower mousse cake

cherry blossom matcha doughnuts

cherry blossom petit fours

raspberry lemon & orange spring cheesecake

lavender thyme & white chocolate scones

rose & pistachio tres leches

rose tiramisu

sweet lilac bloom rolls

apricot chamomile cream popsicles

lavender sorbet

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

june

a summer in dunbrook, part one

a/n: i desperately needed something comforting and familiar to sit and fiddle with this summer, so this is what happened: a little mini series to continue lilac! just a cute little summer in their lives ৎ୭

summary: “oh, hi,” Frank’s brows rose up as he glanced down at the dog firmly planting itself by your feet, “who is this?”

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, sequel to lilac, smut, lumberjack AU, a cutie patootie dog (yes, we're basically turning this into one of those wholesome dog movies), kissing, size kink, dirty talk, manhandling, fingering, sex toys, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, penetrative sex, anal, double penetration, some pain (frank is just too damn big and reader is too stubborn/greedy for it as we all are), unprotected sex (because this is just porn. no one is getting pregnant, I’m just craving the intimacy. let them be hoes and live out the fantasy)

word count: 4138

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

series masterlist | next chapter

masterlist | join my taglist

“You know, you could help me,” you grumbled with your head half stuffed inside a messy cardboard box. 

“I don’t know…” Frank let an exhale flow through his smirk as he raised his mug of black coffee back up to his lips, “I like you without pants.”

Shooting him a glance as he leisurely leaned back against the kitchen counter and enjoyed the show of you running around like a headless chicken, you said, “oh yeah? Do you really want me to go to the inn like this?” and gestured to your half-dressed state, then swiftly ripped open another box and mumbled, “I knew I should have packed my summer clothes somewhere obvious. Of course the heat decides to finally hit right when I move into the cabin and everything is impossible to find…”

You were truly regretting the decision not to label any of the moving boxes. You’d thought you wouldn’t need to bother with how few items you had to take with you, but evidently, you should have, now that the few boxes seemed impossible to sort through. 

Setting down his mug, Frank then slowly closed the distance between him and the container balanced on the couch. His hand only seemed to disappear into it a fraction of a second before it raised back up into the air, now with a pair of your shorts miraculously dangling from his grip.

Your eyes grew wide, “how did you–…” before, utterly dumbfounded, you reached out for them. 

Briefly, he bent down and pressed his lips to your hairline, “sometimes you just can’t see the thing lying right in front of you.”

Blinking back up into his gaze, a smile tugged at your lips.

“Thank you,” an exhale flowed from you as the frantic stress of the search slowly melted away. 

As you shimmied the linen shorts on, you truly let yourself notice the moving boxes littering Frank’s cabin, or rather, your shared cabin, your home. 

It had been yesterday when you finally found the time to pack down everything and haul it over, even though you’d been talking about it for what felt like forever. It would probably take a little longer before it stopped feeling like a dream, but in this blissful moment, it sank in just a little bit more, enough to prevent you from pinching yourself.

“When do you get off?” Frank asked as you tugged a pair of sandals on, “four?”

“Yeah, probably,” you swung your bag over your shoulder. 

“Alright, I’ll come pick you up then,” his words caused the corners of your lips to tilt upwards. 

Your feet then shuffled, not in the direction of the door, but the opposite way, where Frank still stood. Raising yourself up onto your tiptoes, you pressed your lips to his in a soft peck and sighed, “I love you…”

“Have a good day,” he uttered back in the slim space between you. 

“…and over here and here are some really great trails if you wanna go for a hike,” you circled on the folded map before glancing back up at the guests leaning against the front desk, “one cuts through the woods and goes on next to some farmland where you’ll probably bump into some cows, maybe sheep, whereas the other one goes up some of the mountains, so you get an amazing view.”

“Oh, great,” one of the women smiled as you slid the map back into her palms, “thank you so much!”

“Of course, you’re welcome,” your head tilted in a gentle nod as they trotted out the inn’s front door.

On the veranda, the other lady called over her shoulder to you, “bye!” before she seized her companion’s hand and they disappeared from your sight. 

As you popped the blue pen in your grasp back in the ceramic mug behind the desk, reuniting it with all its other brethren, you felt something brush up against your leg. 

Glancing down, your eyebrows swiftly shot up at the sight that met you. 

A dog. 

A big, fluffy golden retriever to be exact. 

“Oh… hello,” you blinked, “where did you come from?”

The animal however didn’t offer you an answer but instead simply dashed out of the still-open door, onto the porch and around towards the garden. 

With a bewildered gaze, you rounded into the dining room and asked your father as he was gathering the last remaining dishes from this morning, “hey, yesterday, when I got off early to take care of the whole move, did someone new check-in? Someone that had a dog with them?”

“A dog? No,” Harvey puffed as he balanced a stack of plates, “no one checked in last night, with or without a pet.”

Shadowing him as he strode into the kitchen and dumped the dishes into the soapy sink, your brows stayed furrowed, “you sure? Because I literally just saw one.”

A chuckle then burst out your dad’s lungs, “yeah, right you did.”

“No, I really did, I’m not kidding.”

Halting his scrubbing, he glanced back at you and warily scanned your features, “you alright, honey? Is this seeing a dog code for something? Blink twice if you wanna move back home.”

“Oh my god, no,” you groaned at his jest and then spotted a golden flicker of movement out the window to the garden, “see,” you pointed, “it’s right there, I’m not lying.” 

Following the line of your outstretched finger, the moustachioed man’s face then dropped as he spotted the dog energetically rolling in the grass before it ran over to a rusty bucket to lap at the old rainwater within, “well I’ll be damned…” 

“…are you sure you don’t wanna come in and join me for dinner?” the brash tone of Donna carried on the wind and found your ears as you descended the porch steps.

“No, thank you, ma’am,” Frank declined, seemingly cornered by the voluptuous woman as he waited by his dark navy truck, “I already have plans tonight.”

“As you seem to have every time I ask you… guess I’ll just have to try a bit harder then,” Donna’s gaze lapped him up, “catch you off guard…”

Like an angel sent to save him, his face lit up at he spotted you, “Y/n! Hey, how was your day?”

The gravel beneath your sandals rusted as you first turned your attention towards your old educator, “Donna, please stop flirting with Frank,” you held back a chuckle, “you know how uncomfortable it makes him.”

“I know, I know, it’s just too fun watching him squirm,” she offered him a wink before she sauntered past you with a brief pat to your shoulder and then went on, disappearing into the inn. 

Twisting your frame in Frank’s direction, he swiftly caught your hand and ushered you even closer.

“Hi,” a soft smile spread across your features before he stole a kiss. 

“Hi,” he quietly echoed before pressing his lips to yours again. 

The kiss however crumbled when a short bark sounded at your feet. 

“Oh, hi,” Frank’s brows rose up as he glanced down at the dog firmly planting itself by your feet, “who is this?”

“I don’t know,” you sucked in a breath, “it’s not one of the guests’, but it has been following me around all day. Wherever I’d go, whatever I’d do, I’d just turn around and there it was.”

Sinking down, he kneeled beside it to offer a scratch behind its ear, “well, you’re certainly not a stray,” his fingers found the green collar fasted around its neck and glanced at the small, round attachment dangling from it, “let’s see here… Enzo,” he read off the nameplate and flipped it in his palm. 

“Is there a number of the owner?” you asked, bending down a bit to run your fingers over the honied fur along Enzo’s spine. 

“No,” Frank exhaled and let the pendant slip out of his grasp, “but your home probably isn’t far,” both of his hands briefly came up to scratch the dog’s cheeks as he spoke to him, “you just need to go back there.”

After he’d risen back up to his full height, the dog attempted to jump into the car with you as soon as you swung the passenger door open, “hey, no! Go home!” you pointed in a vague direction. 

At first, you thought your command had succeeded as Enzo swiftly ran in your opposite direction, but then as his paws climbed the wide porch steps, your head tilted to the side as you watched him flop down and plant himself on the veranda. 

“O-oh…” the moan shuttered from your parted lips as Frank switched up the swirling pattern his touch had traced, playing with the wetness that leaked from your first orgasm, drawing tingling circles over your little rosebud before he then began to press just the tip of a glossy finger inside. 

You were half sitting in his lap, your spine melted back against his chest, as he peeked over your shoulder to grin down at the mess he made of you. 

A kiss was pressed to your hot cheek as your ass slowly swallowed more of his digit and you sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. 

“Relax, sweetheart,” his low timbre rumbled in your ear, “don’t forget to breathe now,” a reminder that your foggy mind truly needed at this point. 

His efforts were ever so gentle, easing his way inside, though contrastingly panted behind you and nearly moaned at how good you felt. 

“Fuck,” he cursed as you relaxed enough around him to let another finger inside, “you sure you want it today? Are you sure that you’re ready?”

“Frank,” your grip tightened slightly around his thick forearm as it flexed lightly at every gentle rock of his digits, “it’s nearly been a month,” you spoke impatiently about the prep, not unlike how he tickled you now, “I don’t wanna wait any longer. I wanna feel–, oh fuck–,” you whimpered as he tried to stuff another finger inside, “I-I wanna feel you–, y-your–,” your words began to melt into nothingness as that familiar storm began to brew within your being once again. 

“You wanna feel my cock stretch this little ass out?” he filled in as if that hadn’t been the most common wish on your tongue for the past season. 

“Mhm,” your head nodded, rocking back against his broadness. 

When the announcement of your inevitable peak tumbled off your tongue, to your surprise, the man behind you didn’t keep up the dizzying pattern his slick fingers had worked their way up to, but instead retracted them completely only to roll you both over onto your sides. As your face fell down upon the corner of a pillow, you almost twisted back around, nearly just let your itching fingers shoot down to take matters into your own hands, but then Frank yanked your hips back, not only pulling you closer to him, but effortlessly sinking you down onto his cock, your throbbing pussy swallowing him in one fell swoop. 

With the timing of it all, he almost didn’t get the chance to tilt back his hips and begin a rhythm, before your cunt clenched down around him and made his job that much more trying.

In the daze of your high, you weren’t quite sure if you got to lay there a moment and fade into the feeling, or if Frank seized the first opportunity he got to manhandle you into a different configuration. Sliding out of you, he positioned you on your wobbly knees and let your upper body melt down onto the mattress. 

Holding you upright by your hips, he then leaned down over you and planted kisses all along your goosebump-ridden spine. 

“How are you holding up, baby?”

“Oh,” your toes curled as you felt his hard length nuzzle against your dripping folds from the proximity, “uh-huh,” your arms hazily curved up to fold beneath your face, “I’m–, uh-huh…”

“You wanna try?” his soft question pierced through your fog. 

“Please.”

“Yeah?” his comforting weight then lightened against you as he straightened back up behind you. 

“Yeah,” you echoed, sluggishly wiggling your ass back against him when you felt him rub his bulbous tip against your puckered rosebud. 

As he then slowly dipped the head just shyly inside, it nearly sounded like a prayer as a mutter flowed through his controlled breath, “shh, relax for me, sweetheart. Let me in…”

He stilled his gentle efforts as soon as the very essence of him breached. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight…”

Though you’d prepared yourself and imagined what his girth would feel like splitting that part of you open, the stretch however was still much more severe than you’d expect, swiftly causing your puffs of air to come in ragged as he nearly didn’t fit and clearly had to use all his might for your little hole to let even the slightest bit of him in. 

Carefully leaning back down over you, Frank soothingly pressed his lips to your cheek before he checked, “you okay?” noticing how tense you suddenly were beneath him. 

Out of fear that he’d pick up too much information on the tone of your voice, you opted for a strained nod instead, nuzzling your face further into the bed as you panted. 

“Y/n,” your name rolled off his tongue, dripping in sincerity, “please don’t lie if you’re in pain.” 

“It doesn’t hurt,” your weak deception failed as soon as it left your lips. 

You weren’t sure however if he then chose to believe you or what, but he somehow bought the lie and instead reached for the bottle of lube tangled in the sheets.

After he’d cautiously added a little extra slickness, his broad palm floated down to soothe your spine as he pushed in another inch. 

Though as soon as a breathless squeak left your lungs, Frank froze up once again. 

“Y/n…” you heard him sigh from above you, “we talked about this…”

“No,” you insisted as the paralysing pleasure you felt drowned out the sting, “please, Frank.” 

“It's okay, you’re not ready yet–” 

“No, I am! Please don’t pull out!”

The motion revving up in his hips paused at your plea. 

“Honey, I'm not gonna hurt you,” his warm touch swept against the curve of your waist, “I know that you want this, but–”

“But please, Frank,” you interrupted, tilting your head around to catch his gaze, “trust me when I tell you not to stop,” sighing softly, you blinked up at him from your prone position, “don’t I feel really good?”

“Well,” the breath got caught slightly in his throat, “of course you do, but that’s not what this is about.” 

“Don’t you wanna know what it feels like to have your whole cock inside? Just how tight my little ass will squeeze you?” 

You watched as his jaw clenched, “baby, you gotta stop, it’s hard enough as it is to keep my head on while I’m inside of you. If you keep running your mouth like that I might–”

“What?” you taunted, “fuck me with more than just the tip?” 

Holding your gaze, his chest expanded with a handful of breaths before he then moved his hips again, just ever so slightly, studying how your face contorted at the minimal motion. 

“Oh my god,” you moaned as it became an impossible task to hold his fierce gaze “keep going, please,” you prayed even though your legs trembled beneath you. 

As he slowly found a gentle rhythm, he cautiously uttered, “talk to me, sweetheart. How does that feel?”

“It–, fuck, it’s so much,” a short and airy giggle slipped out past your whimper, “it feels amazing, but fuck it’s just so intense.” 

Every careful thrust he offered you pushed a tiny moan out of your lungs, like he was orchestrating a beautiful symphony that grew to a crescendo the more your body began to tingle, nearing the edge once again. 

“You’re doing so great, baby,” his touch grazed your propped-up backside, caressing you as he stared down at how you clung around his girth. 

“Nghh–, don’t stop,” you panted as your fingers tightened their grip on the crumbled duvet before the ever-present tremble to your frame grew and quaked into a tremor severe enough to lurch you off of Frank’s length and send you crashing down onto the mattress, nearly digging your way through it as yet another orgasm washed over you. 

The next thing you knew, Frank flipped you around, rolling you onto your back. You were still in a daze as he propped a pillow beneath your ass and folded your legs up high by your melted frame. 

Unsure what he had planned, if he was on the verge of kneeling down to lap up the nectar that dripped out of you, or perhaps even something much more nefarious, you instead, quite literally, took matters into your own hands.

Your eyes were barely open as you, through your stunned haze, reached down for his dick and tilted it enough so that it kissed your sore entrance. 

Taking the hint, Frank caught your flickering gaze long enough to nod, “deep breath, sweetheart,” and sank his cock back into your ass. 

Both of your arms curved down and over the backs of your thighs, gently holding them up as your partner gave you more of what you wanted. You didn’t care how overstimulated you still were from your all too recent high, in a way, the ecstasy of it made it easier for you to take him, even if tears did sting the corners of your eyes as you wiggled from the overwhelming sensation. 

“Fuck!” you croaked as he began to grow in confidence, straying away from just fucking you with the mere tip of him. 

Gradually, with each roll his hips offered, he let just a little bit more of him disappear into you, occasionally earning gasps as his length discovered new depths to stretch out and mould around his abundant thickness. 

As you blinked up at him, like a shadowing mountain above you, his own stare didn’t find yours as it stayed glued to where he split you open. 

“Oh, you’re doing so fucking well,” he groaned as he let a dollop of spit drop down to where you met, “I’m already halfway.”

“Halfway?” you mumbled, trying, though failing to glance down at the evidence, “I genuinely thought you were almost balls deep inside of me, holy shit–”

A small chuckle then rumbled in his chest at your flustered words, “you don’t have to take it all, especially not today,” he glanced up to catch your stare, “but you probably want to, right?” he worded before you had a chance to beg, “yeah, my girl can’t settle for just half. You’re all or nothing, even if it fucking breaks you.”

“I thought that’s what you liked about me,” you giggled up at him. 

“No,” he smiled, “that’s what I love about you,” before he jammed nearly the remainder in, with only a shy inch left before his heavy sack would press up against your slick skin. 

“O-oh my g–, ah!” you moaned, feeling like jello in his gasp. 

“There you go,” he grunted, almost hissing at how you felt around him, “that’s what you wanted, right?”

“Y-yes,” you blubbered through your haze. 

As his pelvis soon rutted up against yours, griding against your poor pussy as it drooled for him, “good job, baby,” he flashed you the proudest of smiles, “that’s my fucking girl.”

Curling a hand down to strum at your own clit, puffy and throbbing between your fingers as you began to roll it, Frank’s eye soon caught sight of it and just could resist budding in. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he stared down at the needy bubbles your cunt blew, “is your little pussy feeling neglected, huh? Is she feeling jealous?”

Your head nodded up at him as he reached down to replace your own digits. 

Unable to resist, he briefly pinched your folds apart to half-mock the way your hole clenched around nothing and winked up at him in want.

“You want me to give you some attention here too?” he circled your puffy pearl as his frame sank down over you to steal a chased kiss, “you wanna be filled up in both holes?” his nose nuzzled against yours as you felt two of his fingers plug you up. 

Even though you had at this point turned into an incoherent mess, you still attempted an answer, hazy at it though was, “y-yes, I–, please, Frank–”

Reaching far over your head with the glossy fingers that were no longer inside of you, his long grasp managed to pull the drawer in the bedside table open to snatch up a toy within it. He straightened back up above the puddle you’d become as he let his hand, already coated in your juices, briefly run along the silicon before he lowered it down and slowly filled you up.

He briefly slowed his own thrusts down as he buried the dildo deep inside your pussy, letting you attempt to conquer the uncatchable breath your lungs desperately expanded to find. 

Your wetness leaked down from around the toy with every drive he offered, dripping and lending his cock to slide that much more silkily in and out of your ass. 

As your creamy cunt began to squelch lewdly around the dildo, your fingers couldn’t help but flutter down to rub your clit, making it all that more intense. 

To be honest, you weren’t sure if you were on the verge of cumming again or passing out, but either way, you just sank into the feeling and trusted that Frank would catch you either way. 

“Oh, fuck,” Frank was the first to notice when you reached the peek once last time and your pussy gushed around the toy he teasingly drove within you.

The shuttering cry that tore its way out your lungs flew over your own head as you just shook beneath him, weakly rubbing your pussy as Frank yanked the dildo all the way out to admire the drizzle of juices that squirted out. As he continued to play with you, repeatedly plunging the silicone back in just to prolong the show that much further, you were just way too out of it to notice how your little ass milked his cock, squeezing down tight as he pumped you full. 

You couldn’t really move afterwards, barely even speak as every time you parted your lips, only a breathless giggle slipped out.

He was still there. 

When you got back to the inn the next day, laying on an oblong sunspot in the sitting room next to the reception was the amber-coloured ball of fluff you’d come to know as Enzo. 

It even reached the point that the following day he hadn’t gone home yet either.

So, as your heart began to ache more and more for the lovable lost creature, you decided to take him to the local vet, dragging Frank along as well for moral support.

Unfortunately, no matter how many times you asked the veterinarian to search, she couldn’t find a microchip. 

“Guess it’ll have to be the old-fashioned way,” the vet exhaled. 

“How do you mean?” you asked, your fingers ever tangled in Enzo’s fur as he layed on the exam table. 

“Well, put up some missing flyers while this little guy waits it out in the nearest kennel, which would be the one that’s about an hour away,” she pointed out the seclusion of the little town you all called home. 

“Oh…” you uttered quietly as your eyes flickered down to catch Enzo’s sparkly ones. 

Catching sight of the sombre look that glazed over your features, Frank gently nudged his elbow against your side and said, “we can help hang the posters up,” he caught your gaze as your head tilted back up, “and maybe spread the word, see if anyone recognises him.”

“Yeah,” you nodded, “I’m sure that if we ask Donna for help, she’ll be able to get the word out in record time.” 

But as your gaze fluttered back down the dog, the lump in your throat only seemed to grow. 

“Is there somewhere else he could stay?” you quietly asked the veterinarian, “somewhere a little more homely or even just closer?” 

“Well, you could always foster him,” she tilted her head, “that’s an option.”

Glancing up at Frank, your mouth parted slightly, though no words came out as you silently conversed, pleading with him for permission. 

It took you aback slightly to discover he didn’t need any convincing at all and swiftly replied, “yeah,” nodding gently before his gaze redirected to the vet, “we’ll do it.” 

© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[ad-caelestia]

Botanicals by purpose [long post]

Attraction: adam & eve root, agar, allspice, almond, aloe, althea root, ambergris, angelica, apple, apricot, balm of gilead tears, basil, bay laurel, bee pollen, benzoin, bergamot, bistort, blackberry, bladderwrack, blue violet, buckeye, catnip, cedar, chamomile, chickweed, clover, cloves, columbine, cotton, cowslip, damiana, deer's tongue, dill, elecampane, eucalyptus, evening primrose, frangipani, gardenia, henna, hibiscus, honey, honeysuckle, hyacinth, iris, jasmine, job's tears, juniper, lavender, lemon balm, lemon verbena [vervain], licorice, lobelia, lovage, mandrake, marigold, marjoram, may flowers, morning glory, mullein, myrtle, nutmeg, oak, olive, orange, orange blossom (neroli), orris root, parsley, passion flower, peony, periwinkle, pineapple, plumeria, safflower, sassafras, strawberry, sweet bugle, sweet pea, thyme, tonka bean, tuberose, vetiver, wheat, yellow dock, yerba mate, ylang ylang 

Banishing: basil, betel nut, black pepper, black salt, cayenne pepper, chamomile, cactus, cloves, dragon's blood, elder, garlic, heliotrope, horehound, juniper, morning glory, mullein, mugwort, oleander, onion, rosemary, rue, sage, sea salt, st. john's wort, thyme, tobacco, vinegar, wood betony, yarrow flower 

Beauty: avocado, beet, catnip, chamomile, evening primrose, flax, ginkgo biloba, ginseng, henna, lady's mantle, lemon, lilac, lucky hand (orchid root), magnolia, maidenhair, myrtle, orange, orange blossom (neroli), orchid, pea, prune, rose, sunflower, violet, yerba santa 

Binding: agrimony, buttercup [crowfoot], calamus, hydrangea, ivy, knotweed, morning glory, skullcap, snapdragon, solomon's seal, spanish moss, spiderwort, vinegar, witch hazel 

Cleansing/purification: angelica, anise seeds, black pepper, cayenne, cedar, citronella, cloves, coconut, dragon's blood, fennel, fern, frankincense, garlic, ginger, grapefruit, guava, honey, horehound, horseradish, hyssop, lavender, lemon, lemongrass, lemon verbena [vervain], lime, marjoram, melon, mesquite, parsley, peppermint, pine, rosemary, sage, sandalwood, sea salt, solomon's seal root, tangerine, thyme, turmeric, vinegar, yucca 

Confidence: basil, bergamot, bindweed, cardamom, cedar, celandine, cinquefoil, coconut, cypress, dogwood, ginger, grapefruit, honeysuckle, motherwort, nutmeg, orange, orange blossom (neroli), sunflower, tobacco, yarrow flower 

Courage: acorn, allspice, basil, bergamot, blue violet, borage (starflower), cardamom, cinnamon, citronella, cloves, clover, columbine, dragon's blood, eyebright, fennel, frankincense, garlic, geranium, iris, ivy, mullein, musk, mustard seed, oak, pokeweed, ragweed, raspberry, rose, rosemary, st. john's wort, sweet pea, tarragon, thyme, turmeric, yarrow flower 

Creativity: citronella, dragon's blood, fig, lavender, lemon verbena [vervain], orange, pomegranate, rosemary, tangerine, valerian, wild cherry bark, willow, yellow pepper 

Cursing: angelica, asafoetida, bayberry, bindweed, blackberry root, black salt, bladderwrack, bloodroot, blueberry, boneset, chicory, chili powder, cinquefoil, cloves, cramp bark, dragon's blood, hemlock, henbane, jezebel root, knot weed, lemon, lemon verbena [vervain], lime, mace, mandrake, mullein, mustard seed, myrrh, belladonna (nightshade), onion, patchouli, poke root, poppy seed, rue, spanish moss, slippery elm, stinging nettle, sumac, tormentil, vetiver, wormwood (absinthe), yew, yohimbe bark 

Divination: almond, angelica, anise seeds, arrow root, basil, bay leaf, catnip, cedar, cinnamon, cinquefoil, clary sage, cloves, copal, dandelion, elder, frankincense, garlic, hazel, holly, honeysuckle, iris root, lavender, lemongrass, lilac, maple, meadowsweet, mugwort, myrrh, nutmeg, onion, orange, parsley, peppermint, pine, pomegranate, poppy seeds, rose, rowan, safflower, sage, sandalwood, star anise, sunflower, thyme, uva ursi, willow, wormwood (absinthe), yarrow flower 

Dreams: anise seeds, bay leaf, buchu, catnip, chamomile, cinquefoil, damiana, dandelion root, elder, goosegrass, grapes, heliotrope, hibiscus, holly, hops, hyacinth, jasmine, lavender, lemon verbena [vervain], lovage, mandrake, marigold, marjoram, mimosa, mugwort, mullein, onion, peppermint, rose, rosemary, sage, st. john's wort, star anise, thyme, valerian, violet, wood betony, yarrow flower 

Energy: allspice, aloe, amber, angelica, belladonna (nightshade), black walnut, carrot, centaury, cherry bark, coffee, cowslip, cramp bark, daffodil, damiana, dragon's blood, fig, frankincense, ham, hawthorn, lovage, mint, oregano, paprika, parsley, peppermint, red pepper, sage, sandalwood, spinach, sunflower, tangerine, vanilla, walnut 

Fidelity: cardamom, chili pepper, clover, cumin, hydrangea, licorice root, magnolia bark, olive, rhubarb, rye, vetch, yerba mate

Fertility: acorn, apple, banana, barley, birch, bistort, cabbage, carrot, celery, chickweed, cucumber, cyclamen, daffodil, egg, fenugreek, fig, ginkgo biloba, grapes, hawthorn, hay, hazelnut, ivy, lily, mandrake, mistletoe, mugwort, mulberry, mustard seed, myrtle, oak, olive leaf, palm, parsley, patchouli, peach, pomegranate, poppy seeds, pork, prickly ash bark, rhubarb, rice, rye, sesame seed, shave grass, squaw vine, walnut, watercress, wheat, yellow dock, yohimbe bark 

Happiness: anise, apple, azalea, banyan, bee pollen, beech, catnip, cherry, cumin, cyclamen, fern, geranium, hawthorn, honey, honeysuckle, hyacinth, jasmine, lavender, lemon, lily, lily of the valley, marjoram, meadowsweet, orange, orange blossom (neroli), palm, peach, persimmon, quince, rose, saffron, st. john's wort, witches grass (dog grass) 

Healing: adder's tongue, african violet, agrimony, allspice, almond, angelica, apple, arrow root, aspen, balm of gilead tears, barley, bay leaf, bayberry, belladonna, blackberry, calamus, carnation, cedar, chamomile, chia, chickweed, cinnamon, cotton, cucumber, cypress, dandelion leaf, eucalyptus, fennel, feverfew, flax seed, gardenia, garlic, ginkgo biloba, ginseng, goldenseal, hops, horse chestnut [buckeye], ivy, lavender, lemon balm, lemon verbena [vervain], melon, mesquite, mint, mistletoe, myrrh, olive leaf, peppermint, persimmon, pineapple, plantain, plum, potato, raspberry leaf, rose hips, rosemary, rowan, rue, saffron, sage, sandalwood, sassafras, saw palmetto, spearmint, thistle, white willow bark, willow, wood betony, yarrow flower, yerba santa 

Hex-breaking: asafoetida, bamboo, chili pepper, datura, galangal, holy thistle, huckleberry, hydrangea, mimosa, nutmeg, papaya, peony, pokeroot, prickly ash bark, rue, squill, thistle, toadflax, true unicorn root, vetiver, wintergreen, witches grass (dog grass), yew, yucca 

Invisibility: aconite (wolfsbane, monkshood), amaranth, black haw, cherry bark, chicory, fig, heliotrope, poppy seeds, sow thistle, tansy  

Legal matters: buckthorn, calendula flower, cascara, celandine, galangal, hickory, lovage, marigold, skunk cabbage, tobacco 

Love: acacia, allspice (pimento), apple, apricot, avocado, balm of gilead, barley, basil, beans, beetroot, bloodroot, buttercup [crowfoot], cabbage, cardamom, celery, cherry, chestnut, chickweed, chili peppers, cilantro [coriander], coltsfoot, copal, corn, cornflower, daffodil, dates, dogbane, dragon's blood, elm, fig, gardenia, geranium, ginseng, grapes, henbane, hibiscus, high john, honeydew, hyacinth, indian paintbrush, job's tears, juniper, kiwi, lady's mantle, lavender, leek, lemon, lemon balm, lemon verbena [vervain], lettuce, lime, liverwort, lobelia, lovage, maidenhair, mandrake, mango, maple, marjoram, marshmallow, meadowsweet, mint, mistletoe, moonwort, mullein, mushrooms, myrrh, myrtle, nectarine, nuts, orange, orchid, orris root, pansy, papaya, parsley, pea, peach, pear, peppermint, periwinkle, plum, quassia, quince, radish, raspberry, rose, rosemary, rue, rye, saffron, southern wood, spearmint, spiderwort, st. john's wort, strawberry, sugarcane, tangerine, thyme, tomato, turnip, vanilla, vetiver, willow, witches grass (dog grass), wood betony, wormwood (absinthe), yams, yarrow, yerba mate 

Luck: acorn, agrimony, allspice (pimento), anise seeds, arrow root, bamboo, banana, bay leaf, cabbage, calamus, caraway, carrot, cassia, chamomile, cinnamon, corn, cotton, daffodil, dill, dragon's blood, fern, frankincense, galangal, hazelnut, kumquat, lucky hand (orchid root), nutmeg, orange, parsley, pear, peppermint, persimmon, pineapple, pomegranate, poppy seeds, red clover, rose, rue, star anise, strawberry, sunflower, vanilla, vetiver, violet, yarrow flower 

Manifestation/power: acorn, bamboo, balm of gilead, bergamot, black haw, carnation, cayenne, cedar, cinnamon, cinquefoil, club moss, dittany, ebony, echinacea, frankincense, gentian, ginger, goldenseal, lady's mantle, mastic, mugwort, myrrh, rowan, sandalwood, st. john's wort, star anise, sunflower, witches burr, wormwood (absinthe) 

Meditation: acacia, anise seeds, angelica, chamomile, copal, cypress, dittany, eucalyptus, frankincense, jasmine, lemon verbena, lotus, mugwort, myrrh, nutmeg, parsley, patchouli, red willow bark, rosemary, sage, sandalwood, thyme  

Mental clarity: amber, basil, cardamom, cloves, fern, eyebright, ginkgo biloba, lavender, lemongrass, mulberry, rosemary, sage, sandalwood, spearmint, willow 

Mental power: caraway, celery, coffee, eyebright, fenugreek, grapes, hazelnut, horehound, lily of the valley, mace, mustard, periwinkle, raisins, rosemary, rue, sage, summer savory, spearmint, vanilla, walnut, watercress, yellow pepper 

Peace: aloe, apple, apricot, basil, blueberry, brussel sprouts, celery, chamomile, cilantro [coriander], coffee, coltsfoot, cornflower, cucumber, cumin, fig, gardenia, heather, hyacinth, jasmine, kola nut, lavender, lemon verbena [vervain], lettuce, lily of the valley, lime, magnolia flowers, maidenhair, marigold, meadowsweet, myrrh, myrtle, narcissus, olive leaf, orange, orange blossom (neroli), oregano, passion flower, passion fruit, pea, pennyroyal, peppermint, plum, rhubarb, rose, sage, skullcap, sweetgrass, tobacco, tuberose, valerian, violet, willow, ylang ylang 

Prosperity/wealth: alfalfa, allspice, almond, banana, barley, basil, bay leaf, beef, bergamot, blackberry, bladderwrack, cashew, chamomile, cinnamon, cinquefoil, citronella, coltsfoot, comfrey, dill, eggplant, fenugreek, flax, fumitory, galangal, ginger, goldenrod, goldenseal, grains, grapes, green pepper, high john, honeysuckle, horse chestnut [buckeye], hyssop, irish moss, jasmine, kumquat, lavender, lemon verbena, lucky hand, mandrake, maple, marigold, mint, moss, myrtle, oak, oats, onion, orange, patchouli, pea, peanut, pear, pecan, pine, pineapple, pine nut, pineapple, pomegranate, poppy seeds, red clover, rice, sesame, snakeroot, spinach, tangerine, tomato, wheat, woodruff 

Protection: acacia (gum arabic), aconite (wolfsbane, monkshood), acorn, african violet, aloe, amber, angelica, anise seeds, ash, bamboo, barley, basil, bay leaf, belladonna, bergamot, black haw (devil's shoestring), black pepper, blackberry, blessed thistle, bloodroot, blue violet, blueberry, boneset, brimstone (sulfur powder), buckwheat, cactus, calamus, calendula, carnation, caraway, catnip, cedar, chia, chives, chrysanthemum, cilantro [coriander], cinnamon, cloves, clover, coconut, comfrey, corn, cotton, cramp bark, cranberry, cumin, curry, cypress, dandelion root, datura, devil's bit, devil's claw, dill, dogwood, dragon's blood, ebony, elder, eucalyptus, fennel, fern, feverfew, fleabane, foxglove, frankincense, gardenia, garlic, geranium, ginger, ginseng, heather, heliotrope, henna, hickory, high john the conqueror, holly, horseradish, irish moss, ivy, juniper, kava kava, kelp, lady slipper, larch, larkspur, laurel, lavender, leek, lemon verbena [vervain], lettuce, lime, lotus, mandrake, marigold, marjoram, marshmallow root, mimosa, mint, mistletoe, mullein, nutmeg, oak moss, olive leaf, onion, papyrus, peat moss, peony, pimpernel, pineapple, plantain, quince, radish, raspberry leaf, rhubarb, rice, rowan, rue, sandalwood, saw palmetto, sea salt, slippery elm, snapdragon, solomon's seal, spanish moss, spearmint, st. john's wort, straw flower, sunflower, tangerine, thistle, valerian, venus fly trap, violet, witch hazel, wood aloe, woodruff, wormwood (absinthe), yerba santa, yew, yucca 

Psychic abilities: acacia (gum arabic), ambergris, anise seeds, arnica flowers, bay leaf, bistort, bladderwrack, borage (starflower), buchu, butcher's broom, calendula, camphor, celery/celery seed, cinnamon, coconut, damiana, deer's tongue, eyebright, fish, galangal, honeysuckle, kava kava, kelp, lemon balm, lemongrass, lotus, lovage, marshmallow root, mulberry, mugwort, mushrooms, myrrh, rowan, saffron, sage, star anise, tuberose, uva ursi, wisteria, yarrow flower, yerba santa 

Relaxation/calming: basil, blue violet, cauliflower, cedar, chamomile, cucumber, cypress, hops, hyssop, juniper, kava kava, kola nut, lavender, lemon balm, lily of the valley, lime, mandarin, mugwort, narcissus, orange blossom (neroli), parsley, passion flower, rose, tuberose, skullcap, st. john's wort, valerian, vanilla, ylang ylang  

Spell-breaking: ague, angelica, asafoetida, bamboo, basil, bay leaf, benzoin, boneset, brimstone (sulfur powder), burdock, chili pepper, cinquefoil, comfrey, datura, frankincense, galangal, garlic, geranium, holy thistle, huckleberry, hydrangea, iris root (orris root), lemon verbena [vervain], lilac, lily, lucky hand (orchid root), myrrh, oak moss, onion, oregano, patchouli, rue, safflower, solomon's seal, st. john's wort, stinging nettle, squill, thistle, toadflax, turmeric, vetiver, willow, wormwood (absinthe), yarrow flower 

Strength: balsam, bay leaf, beef, bee pollen, blessed thistle, borage (starflower), broccoli, calamus, calendula flower, camphor, carnation, cedar, cinnamon, dates, echinacea, endives, fennel, fig, gentian, ginger, heliotrope, high john, irish moss, leek, lime, marjoram, milk thistle, mulberry, oak, oak moss, orchid, oregano, parsley, pennyroyal, pine, pine nut, red peppers, saffron, sow thistle, spearmint, st. john's wort, stinging nettle, tangerine, tea leaves, thyme, tobacco, vanilla, willow, wood betony 

Success: angelica, apple, basil, bay leaf, benzoin, cedar, cinnamon, frankincense, garlic, ginger, high john, lemon balm, lemon verbena [vervain], lucky hand (orchid root), marigold, mistletoe, mustard, myrrh, oak, onion, sandalwood, solomon's seal, st. john's wort, strawberry, sunflower, valerian, vetiver, wood aloe 

Wisdom: acacia, acorn, almond, angelica, bay leaf, benzoin, cassia, cinnamon, cinquefoil, elder, frankincense, goosegrass, hazelnut, honey, iris, lilac, milk thistle, mulberry, peach, oak, sage, solomon's seal, sunflower 

Wishes: bamboo, bat's head root, bay leaf, beech, black walnut, blowball, buckthorn, dandelion leaf/root, dogwood, ginseng, job's tears, lotus root, peppermint, pomegranate, sage, sandalwood, spearmint, star anise, sunflower, tonka bean, walnut, willow

© 𝟸𝟶𝟸𝟺 𝙰𝙳-𝙲𝙰𝙴𝙻𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙸𝙰

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch

Archmaester Gyldayn’s Testimonies of Princess Aelora Targaryen’s Youth

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: This is kind of a filler chapter until I can finish chapter 7. I was planning on either putting this at the end of chapter 6 or the beginning of chapter 7, but here is as good as any. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll be able to finish chapter 7 by next Sunday. Thank you for your support and patience. Love y'all! (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

Chapter Warnings: mentions of childhood SA, mental illness, suicidal ideations, Targaryen queerness.

Princess Rhaenyra’s eldest child blossomed into a captivating presence at Dragonstone, earning admiration from those close to her but invoking fear and ire in those who dared to cross her. Known for her unpredictable temperament, she would fall into fits of anger and sorrow, during which her judgment would become clouded, leading to subsequent regret. In bouts of profound grief, she sought solace in Aegon’s Garden with the company of flora and fauna, finding peace and consolation by tending to the roses and lilacs and fashioning delicate flower crowns for her siblings to wear.

When Princess Aelora was approximately ten and two, eyewitnesses observed her standing on the balcony railing for an extended period during one of her episodes, seemingly trance-like. Despite numerous attempts to persuade her to step down, she adamantly refused, stating her desire for a better view of the landscape. In response to this concerning behavior, Princess Rhaenyra took the drastic measure of ordering the balcony doors to be permanently sealed shut. The exact cause of her distressing episodes remains shrouded in mystery. While many attributed it to the infamous Targaryen madness in her bloodline, the Fool Mushroom believed it was linked to a specific incident involving Prince Aegon during her early years.

Late one night, he claims to have spied on Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon in their bed chambers on Dragonstone. He overheard the Princess confiding in her husband about her eldest’s behavioral problems and impulsivity. He alleges that she confessed to a rape committed by Prince Aegon on her daughter while they were living in King’s Landing. However, this information is heavily debated, as there has been no further mention in oral or written records.

When Princess Aelora reached ten and four, scandalous rumors began circulating on Dragonstone about her relationship with her twin brother, Prince Jacaerys. It was whispered that their stepfather went to her rooms after reports of suspicious sounds emerging from behind closed. Prince Daemon was rumored to have discovered the Prince in a compromising position between the legs of the Princess. In response to the gossip, Princess Rhaenyra sent her daughter to study abroad at the Citadel and in Dorne as a gesture of goodwill, hoping it would ease her troubled mind. This separation was particularly difficult for the twins, as it was the first time they had ever been apart. Prince Jacaerys was visibly upset during this time, spending hours upon end sulking inside his chambers and absconding his duties until Princess Aelora finally returned home once they both came of age.

Nevertheless, Princess Aelora radiated warmth and kindness to all she encountered. She was admired for her outgoing and naive nature, and she took great delight in her love for nature, herbalism, botany, and medical techniques gathered from her journeys around the realm. Her fondness for citrus plants was evident as she carried the sweet scent of the fruits wherever she roamed, though they were difficult to cultivate on Dragonstone’s soil. Adorned in her late father’s distinguished Velaryon blue, she was never seen without the elegance of pearls, aquamarine, topaz, and sapphire, with a delicate headpiece and veil enshrouding her dark, lustrous locks.

When eligible suitors ventured to Dragonstone intending to court Rhaenyra’s eldest daughter, she dismissively turned them away, leaving the cock hurt Lords to return home scorned. It was said that during a gathering of the court, Princess Aelora boldly declared that she harbored no yearning for a marital alliance, as she found solace in the enduring companionship of her beloved dragon Gaelithox and her loyal brother, firmly indicating that she had no intention of entering into matrimony.

IMO, the reader suffers from borderline personality disorder. People with BPD are often mistaken for having depression, but the main qualifier is periods of mania with impulsivity, which is more susceptible to hypersexuality and addictions. They're typically triggered by actual or perceived separations, disagreements, and rejections. Highly sensitive to abandonment and being alone, which brings about intense feelings of anger, fear, suicidal thoughts and self-harm, and very impulsive decisions. People with high-functioning BPD experience frequent negative thoughts, fear of rejection, and regret about expressing their feelings. I'm by no means a mental health expert. This is just my head cannon.

Masterlist of Series

Spotify Playlist

Jace and the reader fulfill the Targaryen queerness. Who would've thought? XD

Thank you for reading! (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

P.S. the reader wears what's called a French hood. I couldn't find one that matched her aesthetic unfortunately.

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp, @britt-mf, @marvelescvpe, @haikyuusboringassmanager, @discofairysworld , @lottiemsgf , @nessjo , @fiction-fanfic-reader , @qvnthesia , @hotvillianapologist , @p45510n4f4shi0n, @theendlessvoidofdarkest , @readerselegance , @gothamgurl2024 , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @vaylint , @ln8118 , @prettyduckling22 , @primroseluna

Bold means I couldn't tag you for some reason :(

[stay-somnia]

SKZ! A/B/O! Omegaverse! Scents

Chan

His scent is the definition of primal: cedar forests so dense you have to claw your way out never knowing what direction you're going. Chan's scent is both comforting and dangerous, still woodlands lulling you in as ancient eyes watch.

Lee Know

Lee Know's scent is as strange as he is. Driftwood floating against foggy coastlines off black sand beaches. Brackish waters were rivers meet oceans his scent is clear with traces of salts. Your vision goes hazy as the gentle waves pull you under.

Changbin

Rose Oxide. Soft, brazen, metallic; Changbin's scent perfectly in embrace him. It's deceiving, subtle and kind at heart, the metallic clang quickly fades away once you're in its enamoring presence.

Hyunjin

Its hypnotizing, free spirited, this aired scent of Lilac's and Larch knows no limits. Faint in the beginning it grows more powerful over time, drawing you into a dream you won't wake up from.

Han

Electric citrus engulfed in rich chocolate, Han's scent is a comforting as it is addicting. It instills a fiery familiarity you can only acquire with over protective loved ones at your side. Once you taste it all else turns to ash.

Felix

Felix's scent of Jade and moss is a preservation of youth and vitality from times long ago. It's a bubble of peace. A place to clear your mind. A friend to call your own. Worry melts away once you pass the gates.

Seungmin

Leather bound notes and Bourbon. It's unnerving, unexpected, it's Seungmin. Archaic wisdom alight with mischief. Pages stained with a kind of love that most people will never get to know.

Jeongin

His scent is cold, alive, unique. Hawthorne fruit, candlestick ice, frozen rain. There's a beauty that you cant possibly comprehend. It invokes a sense of danger and pride but carries more warmth than a thousand suns.

______________________________________________________________

Im in the process of starting a 9th Member! reader Omegaverse fic so I wanted to explain how I perceive the boys scents. I know they are oddly specific but I cant imagine anything else. I don't quiet have synesthesia (at least I think) but some of all of these things have very distinctive smells. My friends call me crazy when I say jade has a VERY unique smell. I hope I was able to get my thoughts out coherently.

The first chapter should be out some time next week.

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 All Wrapped Up

All Wrapped Up: When your date with Morpheus is cut short, you are left with his coat and your own thoughts… and a bleeding finger from where said coat bit you. You find out that Morpheus’ coat is very much alive as the rest of the realm.

Warnings: Morpheus’ Coat Fucks You (this is your only warning on how nasty this is), Explicit Language, Explicit Material.

To Note: AFAB!Reader x Morpheus’ Coat

Word Count: ~6.4k

You stroll through the shifting landscapes of the Dreaming, your boyfriend Morpheus by your side. The sky above you morphs from a star-studded abyss to a canvas of swirling pastels, the colors melting into each other like ice cream on a hot day. A soft breeze carries the scent of blooming nightshade and distant rain. Yet another perfect night to spend with your handsome and beautiful boyfriend.

"You know," you say, glancing at him, "this place could use more flowers."

Morpheus' lips twitch into a barely-there smile. "Flowers? Are there not flowers throughout my realm? What more do you wish for?"

"Gilbert is currently hoarding all the best ones" you huff out in half complaint. "I'm talking about everywhere else in the realm. The places that don't have his super awesomeness."

"And what do you propose I should add?" Morpheus asks, tilting his head to the side.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe some unique roses? Lilacs? Orchids even," you gesture vaguely, enjoying the way his eyes—currently a serene blue—catch the light. They glimmer so prettily with stars. "Fun and unique flowers that you would never see together. Tulips, birds of paradise, hydrangea…"

"Fun and unique flowers, you say?" Morpheus muses, his voice like a gentle hum in the background of a dream. He lifts a hand, and with a flick of his wrist, the ground around you begins to shift. Suddenly, the once bare earth is alive with a riot of colors. Roses in every hue imaginable bloom alongside lilacs, their delicate petals brushing against the striking shapes of orchids.

The air thickens with their fragrance, a heady blend that fills your senses and makes you feel dizzy with delight. You laugh, spinning around to take it all in. "See? This is what I'm talking about."

"Indeed," Morpheus replies, a trace of amusement in his voice. "Anything else you desire?"

Before you can respond, a loud caw breaks through the tranquility. You glance up to see Matthew the Raven circling overhead. "You two look like you're picking out wedding flowers," he comments, swooping down to land on Morpheus' shoulder.

"Do you have something to add, Matthew?" Morpheus asks, one eyebrow arched.

"Just that maybe you should throw in some dandelions," Matthew says, ruffling his feathers. "You know, for variety."

You chuckle, reaching out to scratch Matthew's head. "Dandelions? Really?"

"Hey, don't knock 'em till you've tried 'em," Matthew quips.

Morpheus waves his hand again and suddenly dandelions sprout amidst the more exotic blooms. Their cheerful yellow heads bob in the soft breeze, adding an unexpected touch of whimsy to the scene.

"I have to admit," you say, bending down to pluck one from the ground. "It does add something special."

The Dreaming reacts to every movement and word from Morpheus. The sky darkens slightly as if acknowledging his focus on this moment with you. The colors become more vivid, each petal and leaf shimmering as though made of dreams themselves.

You catch a hint of ozone in the air—like just before a thunderstorm—and it makes your skin tingle with anticipation. It's as if every sense is heightened here: the sound of distant waves crashing against unseen shores; the feeling of soft grass beneath your feet; the sight of flowers blooming in impossible combinations.

Morpheus watches you with those enigmatic eyes that seem to hold entire galaxies within them. "Anything else?" he asks softly.

"Hmm," you ponder aloud. "How about some bioluminescent fungi? Something that glows when it gets dark. Can't go wrong with a good mushroom."

Matthew caws approvingly. "Now that's an idea! Glowing mushrooms could make this place even more magical."

With another wave of Morpheus' hand, glowing fungi begin to appear among the flowers. They emit a soft light that bathes everything in an ethereal glow as twilight descends over the realm.

Morpheus pulls you closer, your body fitting perfectly against his chest. The feeling is almost overwhelming—his coat is soft and warm, like the comforting embrace of a dream you never want to wake from. You really didn't. His fingers trail down your back, sending pleasurable sensations up your spine.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" His voice is a low murmur in your ear, each word vibrating through you like the distant rumble of thunder.

You nod, drawing your fingers down the lapel of his coat. The fabric feels like velvet under your touch, and the galaxy within it seems to pulse with light and energy. There is even a humming vibration beneath your fingertips that almost echo the coats appreciation of your touch.

"Morpheus," you breathe, your voice barely above a whisper.

Matthew flaps his wings in agitation from his perch on Morpheus' shoulder. "Come on, guys. Do we have to do this right here?"

Ignoring Matthew's protest, you let your fingers wander further down Morpheus' coat. Each touch ignites a spark of passion that crackles between you both. His grip on you tightens slightly, as if he can't bear to let you go.

"If he does not wish to witness me kissing my beloved," Morpheus says, his eyes darkening with intensity as they lock onto yours, "Matthew is welcome to leave."

The raven lets out an indignant squawk but takes flight, disappearing into the shifting sky of the Dreaming.

He lowers his head slowly, giving you just enough time to close your eyes before his lips meet yours. The kiss is gentle at first, a mere brush of lips that sends a rush of warmth through you. But then it deepens, becoming more insistent as he pours all his longing and desire into that single point of contact.

The sounds around you seem to amplify—the rustle of leaves in the breeze, the distant roll of thunder, even the faint hum of bioluminescent fungi glowing softly in the growing twilight. It's as if every element in the Dreaming is attuned to this moment, enhancing every sensation.

Your hand slides up into his hair, feeling its softness between your fingers. You press yourself closer against him until there's no space left between you. His arms wrap around you tighter still as if he could pull you into himself completely.

As you lose yourself in the kiss, your hand continues its journey down Morpheus' coat, the fabric smooth and cool against your fingertips. You can feel the coat almost react to your touch, a subtle vibration that seems to echo Morpheus' own desires.

Your fingers brush against the edge of one of his coat pockets, and without thinking, you slip your hand inside. The interior is surprisingly warm, a stark contrast to the outer fabric. But then, something sharp bites into your finger. You pull back abruptly, breaking the kiss with a gasp.

Morpheus' eyes snap open, darkening from their serene blue to a concerned silver. "What is wrong?" His voice is soft but filled with an urgency that sends a shiver down your spine.

You blink in confusion, glancing down at your finger. A drop of blood wells up from a tiny puncture wound, bright red against your pale skin. "I... I think something bit me," you stammer.

Morpheus frowns deeply. He takes your hand gently in his own, lifting it to inspect the wound. His eyes narrow slightly as he studies the small drop of blood. Without warning, he brings your finger up to his lips and slides it into his mouth.

The sensation is electric. His lips are warm and soft against your skin, his tongue soothing as it laps at the wound. You shiver as Morpheus' tongue glides over your finger, each lap sending a tingling sensation straight to your core. The warmth of his lips contrasts sharply with the cool evening air, creating an intoxicating mix of sensations that makes it hard to focus. His eyes, now a deep, mesmerizing silver, lock onto yours, and you feel the world around you blur into insignificance.

The faint taste of iron lingers as he continues to lick the small wound, his movements slow and deliberate. It's almost as if he's savoring every drop of your blood. You can hear the soft sound of his tongue against your skin, a rhythmic, almost hypnotic noise that seems to echo in the stillness of the Dreaming.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally releases your finger. The wound is gone, not even a scar remaining. You flex your hand experimentally, marveling at the seamless healing.

"That was... weird," you murmur, pulling your hand back.

Morpheus' lips curve into a slight smile. "My apologies if it caused you discomfort."

You shake your head, brushing it off. "No, it's fine. Just unexpected."

He straightens, his expression shifting from concern to something more reserved. "I must return to my duties," he says softly.

Your heart sinks at his words. The thought of him leaving, even for a short while, fills you with a sense of loss. "Already?" you pout, unable to hide your disappointment.

Morpheus chuckles, a sound like distant thunder rolling through the night sky. He reaches up and slips off his coat, the fabric whispering against itself as it moves. The galaxy within it seems to pulse with life as he drapes it around your shoulders.

The coat envelops you in warmth and comfort; it’s like being wrapped in the night sky itself. Well, you are wrapped up in a galaxy.

"Wear this," Morpheus murmurs, his voice low and soothing. "So I will be with you until I physically return."

You snuggle into the coat's embrace, feeling its gentle hum against your skin—a soft vibration that echoes Morpheus' own being. The fabric is impossibly soft, caressing your body like he truly is wrapped around you.

He cups your cheek with one hand, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "I will not be long," he promises.

You watch as Morpheus disappears into the ever-shifting landscape of the Dreaming, his silhouette blending seamlessly with the twilight. The weight of his coat around your shoulders is comforting, like an embrace that lingers long after the person has left. With a deep breath, you turn and begin to make your way back to the palace.

The path ahead winds through a forest of bioluminescent trees. Their leaves emit a soft, otherworldly glow that illuminates your way. The air is filled with the faint rustling of leaves and the occasional distant call of nocturnal creatures. As you walk, the sound of your footsteps mingles with these ambient noises, creating a symphony that feels uniquely alive.

The palace looms ahead, its grand spires reaching up to touch the star-studded sky. The entrance is guarded by three majestic creatures—a Gryphon, a Wyvern, and a Hippogryph—each one regal and imposing in its own right. They nod at you as you pass through the gates, acknowledging your presence with silent respect.

Inside, the palace is a labyrinth of corridors and rooms, each one more fascinating than the last. You wander aimlessly, letting your feet guide you. The walls are adorned with intricate tapestries that seem to move and change as you look at them, depicting scenes from countless dreams and nightmares. It was hard to be bored in the dreaming, but you really just wanted to spend time with your boyfriend!

You make your way through the winding corridors of the palace, each step echoing softly against the marble floors. The air is cool, almost refreshing, carrying with it the faint scent of night-blooming jasmine. The palace itself seems to breathe around you, walls shifting subtly as if alive.

Finally, you arrive at Morpheus' private chamber. The door creaks open with a whisper, revealing a room that feels both infinite and intimate. Soft starlight filters in from the high windows, casting gentle shadows across the floor.

Stars float lazily in the air, tiny orbs of light that shimmer and pulse as if they hold entire galaxies within them. You reach out to touch one, and it flutters away like a shy firefly before coming back to hover just above your fingertips. Its light is warm against your skin, sending tingles up your arm.

You wander around the room, brushing your fingers against the floating stars. Each one responds to your touch with a soft hum, a melody that seems to vibrate through your very being. It's like touching pieces of Morpheus himself—fragments of his essence scattered throughout his sanctuary.

As you explore, your gaze drifts down to the coat pocket where something had bitten you earlier. The memory of that sharp pinch makes you pause. Curiosity gnaws at you as you slip your hand back into the pocket cautiously this time, but all you feel is the warm, velvety lining.

"At least I have you to cuddle with," you murmur to yourself, a small smile playing on your lips. "Morpheus' coat is better than no Morpheus at all."

A warmth spreads through your body and you snuggle your face into the neckline of the material, enjoying the way the galaxy feels against your skin. You make your way over to Morpheus' bed and climb onto it, sighing as your hands and knees sink into the cloud like mattress.

The scent of Morpheus lingers on the sheets—a mix of stardust and midnight air that fills your senses and makes you feel even closer to him. You curl up in his coat, pulling it tightly around yourself as you nestle into the soft bedding. A nap would do nicely until Morpheus returns.

You wake with a start, the sensation of fabric skimming across your skin pulling you from the depths of sleep. Your eyes flutter open, and you find yourself staring up at the shifting, pulsating galaxy that adorns Morpheus' coat. It's draped over you like a protective cocoon, its warmth seeping into your very bones. But something is different this time.

The coat is moving, its fabric undulating with a life of its own. You gasp as it begins to slip beneath your clothing, the smooth, velvety material gliding effortlessly over your skin. The sensation is both startling and arousing, each touch sending shivers of pleasure coursing through you.

Your shirt is the first to go, the coat's sleeves tugging at the hem until it's lifted over your head and discarded. You try to sit up, to grasp at the fabric and halt its progress, but it's as if the coat anticipates your every move. It wraps around your arms, pinning them to your sides with a gentle but unyielding pressure.

"Hey!" you protest, a mixture of amusement and alarm in your voice. "What do you think you're doing?"

The coat doesn't answer, of course. Instead, it continues its slow, sensual exploration of your body. You can feel it tracing the contours of your chest, the touch as intimate as a lover's caress. The fabric seems to have grown impossibly softer, its movements deliberate and teasing.

Your breath hitches as it trails lower, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. The sensation is maddeningly erotic, a blend of ticklish delight and mounting desire. You squirm, trying to escape the coat's insistent advance, but it only tightens its grip on your legs, preventing any chance of retreat.

"First you bite me, and now you want me naked?" you murmur, the words coming out in a breathless whisper. The coat, of course, offers no response, save for the continued slide of fabric against your skin. "I don't think so!"

You thrash against the coat's hold, your heart pounding as the fabric tightens around you, holding you fast. It's an odd sensation, the feeling of being trapped yet cared for, dominated yet cherished. Despite your initial protests, there's a part of you that's intrigued, a small voice whispering that you should surrender to the coat's desires.

With surprising gentleness, the coat lifts you off the bed, suspending you in midair. You're aware of the cool air against your skin, the vulnerability of being so exposed. The coat's grip on you shifts, and you feel it deftly unhooking your bra. The fabric slides away, leaving your chest bare to the night air and the coat's lingering touch.

Your breath catches as you feel the coat's fabric against your nipples. It's a strange, intoxicating sensation that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. The coat caresses your breasts with an almost reverent touch, the fabric stroking and fondling with a lover's skill. You can't help the soft moan that escapes your lips, the sound echoing through the silent room.

The coat's attentions shift lower, and you feel it tugging at your pants. You're powerless to resist as the fabric peels away, leaving you clad in nothing but your underwear. The cool air teases your newly bared skin, and you can feel your arousal growing with each passing second.

As the coat continues to caress your breasts, you can't help but think that it's savoring this moment, relishing the feel of your soft, yielding flesh beneath its touch. The fabric moves with purpose, each stroke and caress sending shivers of pleasure up your spine.

Then, without warning, the coat vibrates against your skin, a subtle but unmistakable affirmation. It's almost as if it's communicating with you, confirming your suspicion that it wants—needs—this connection just as much as you do.

The vibrations are maddening, a constant, thrumming reminder of the coat's desire. You can feel it resonate deep within you, stoking the flames of your arousal even higher. The sound of your own breathing fills the room—harsh, ragged gasps that mirror the intensity of the sensations coursing through you.

Your body responds to the coat's ministrations with an urgency that's both startling and undeniable. You can feel yourself growing wetter, your underwear clinging to your damp skin. The coat's fabric teases your sensitive nipples, each brush sending jolts of pleasure straight to your cunt.

You're lost in a sea of sensation, your body moving instinctively to meet the coat's touch. The fabric strokes and fondles your breasts, the movements deliberate and maddeningly skillful. You can feel your arousal building, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to sweep you away.

The coat's vibrations grow stronger, more insistent, as if it can sense how close you are to the edge. The sensation is overwhelming, a constant thrum of pleasure that leaves you gasping for breath. You're aware of the wetness between your legs, the slick, aching need that demands fulfillment.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, the coat's touch becomes impossibly gentle, a soft caress that brings you back from the brink. You're left hovering on the edge of climax, your body trembling with need as the coat holds you suspended in midair, caught between ecstasy and anticipation.

"Oh come on," you whine, tugging on the fabric holding your wrists. "Don't tell me you're gonna tease me too! Morpheus is already a bastard when it comes to teasing, I don't need both of you being mean to me!"

In response to your plea, the coat seems to hesitate for a moment, as if considering your words. Then, with a newfound determination, it resumes its careful exploration of your body. You feel the fabric gliding over your hips, dipping into the crease where your thighs meet your body, and then it's slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. The sensation of the fabric against your most intimate area is surprisingly erotic, and you can't help but moan as it begins to move with purpose.

The coat tugs gently at your underwear, peeling it away from your damp skin. You feel a rush of cool air against your wetness, a stark contrast to the warmth of the coat's embrace. The fabric slides down your legs, leaving you completely naked and exposed in the coat's grasp.

You're lifted higher, your body suspended in midair as the coat positions you for its next tantalizing move. The sensation of weightlessness adds to the surrealism of the moment, amplifying the erotic sensations that course through you.

Then, without warning, the coat begins to rub between your legs, the fabric soft and insistent against your sensitive flesh. You gasp as it finds your clit, the rhythmic motion sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. The vibrations grow stronger, the coat's purring growing louder as it busies itself with your wetness.

The sound of your arousal fills the room, a slick, wet noise that mingles with the coat's purring. You can hear the soft rustle of fabric as it moves against your skin, the subtle whisper of the galaxy that forms the coat's lining. It's a symphony of sensations, a cacophony of sound that threatens to overwhelm your senses.

The coat's movements grow more insistent, the fabric rubbing against your clit with a maddening rhythm that leaves you gasping for breath. You can feel the orgasm building within you, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to sweep you away.

Your body responds instinctively to the coat's touch, your hips moving in time with its rhythmic motions. The sensation of the fabric against your most sensitive area is exquisite, a blend of friction and warmth that sends shivers of pleasure coursing through you.

The coat's purring grows even louder, a constant thrum of pleasure that resonates deep within your core. You can feel your arousal growing with each passing second, your body tensing as the orgasm draws nearer.

And then, just when you think you can't take any more, the coat's touch changes. The fabric between your legs begins to pulse, the rhythm matching the beating of your heart. It's as if the coat knows exactly what you need, exactly how to push you over the edge.

The sensory overload is too much to bear. Your body tenses, and then you're falling, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of overwhelming pleasure. Your cries echo through the room, a testament to the ecstasy that courses through your veins.

As the waves of your climax wash over you, your body convulses with the intensity of the sensations. Your legs are thrashing, feet twisting in the air as they seek purchase on something—anything—to ground you in this moment of pure ecstasy. Your arms pull against the coat's embrace, the fabric tightening around your wrists in response to your struggles, holding you fast as it continues to lavish attention upon your trembling form.

The coat, sentient and eager, is greedily drinking up your release, its fabric writhing and pulsing against your most intimate areas. Each spasm of your cunt sends shockwaves of pleasure through you, and the coat seems to absorb every tremor, its vibrations harmonizing with the rhythm of your orgasm.

You're acutely aware of the erotic sensory details—the wet, slick sound of the coat moving against your drenched folds, the way your breath hitches with each wave of pleasure that crashes over you, the feeling of the cool air against your heated skin. The coat's fabric is like a thousand tiny fingers, each one caressing and teasing and coaxing you towards greater heights of pleasure.

The erotic sounds that fill the room are almost as stimulating as the physical sensations. The wet squelch of the coat's ministrations, the ragged panting of your breaths, the soft whimpers and moans that escape your lips—all of it combines to create a symphony of desire that resonates with the pulsing of your blood.

"Oh god," you strain out, your body falling slack. That was an incredibly explosive orgasm. All from the coat. The coat, however, seems far from finished.

Its fabric begins to move again, slithering down your stomach in a series of slow, deliberate waves. You can't help but squirm as it traces teasing patterns on your skin, each touch sending little shivers of sensation coursing through you. The coat purrs in response.

You can feel it trailing along the insides of your legs, a soft, ticklish touch that leaves you gasping for breath once more. The coat's purring grows louder, a constant thrum of pleasure that seems to echo your own rapidly beating heart. Always thirsty it seems.

As your breathing begins to steady, the coat's fabric continues its unhurried exploration of your body. It caresses your thighs, your stomach, the soft swell of your breasts. Each touch sends ripples of pleasure coursing through you, a reminder that the coat is far from done with you.

You feel the fabric shift, a subtle movement that draws your attention back to the apex of your thighs. The coat's touch is gentle yet insistent, its fabric teasing your sensitive folds with feather-light strokes. You can't help but moan, your body responding instinctively to the promise of more pleasure to come.

But then the fabric between your legs begins to change, to grow and harden into something entirely different. You gasp as you feel the unmistakable shape of a phallus emerging from the coat's inner lining, its size and girth enough to make you catch your breath.

"Wait," you protest, your voice barely above a whisper. "That place is for Morpheus."

The coat seems to hesitate for a moment, its fabric pulsing against your skin. And then, with a sense of inevitability, the phallus continues to grow, its length pressing against your entrance with an insistence that leaves you both exasperated and intrigued.

"You've got to be kidding me," you mutter, a flush creeping up your cheeks. "First you strip me, then you make me come, and now you want to fuck me? You're a coat, for crying out loud!"

In response, the coat vibrates, a low, rumbling purr that vibrates all the way through your cunt. It's almost as if it's chuckling at your incredulity, its fabric shifting against your skin with a maddeningly sensual rhythm.

The phallus nudges at your opening, the blunt tip slick with your own arousal. You can feel it teasing you, pressing just slightly into your warmth before withdrawing once more. The sensation is both startling and arousing, a tantalizing promise of what's to come.

You're aware of the erotic sounds that fill the room—the wet, slick noise of the coat's phallus moving against your drenched folds, the soft, needy whimpers that escape your lips with each teasing stroke. You hate how delicious the sounds are. The coat purrs in response, the vibrations adding another layer of pleasure to the sensory overload.

The phallus nudges at your entrance once more, and this time, it doesn't withdraw. You feel yourself stretching to accommodate its girth, your body yielding to the coat's insistent advance. The sensation is intense, a mix of pleasure and a slight sting that leaves you gasping for breath.

"Oh," you gasp out, your hips twitching and your pelvis muscles twitching from the stretch.

As the coat's phallus begins its slow, inexorable push into your body, you can't help but gasp at the sensation. It's thick and warm, a solid presence that fills you in a way you've never experienced before. Almost tentacle like, worming around against your clenching walls. The fabric of the coat's inner lining is soft against your sensitive skin, a stark contrast to the firmness of the phallus that's currently buried inside you.

You arch your back, a soft moan escaping your lips as the phallus continues its exploration. It seems to be searching for something, its movements deliberate and unhurried. Each slight shift sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, the sensation both startling and intensely arousing.

The erotic sounds of your coupling fills the room once more—the wet, slick noise of the coat's phallus moving inside you, the soft, needy whimpers that escape your lips with each thrust. You can feel the coat purring in response to your sounds of pleasure, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to the mix.

You're acutely aware of the erotic sensory details—the feeling of the coat's fabric against your skin, the warmth of its body as it holds you close, the scent of your arousal mingling with the musty aroma of the coat's inner lining. It's an intoxicating blend that only serves to heighten your pleasure.

The phallus inside you seems to be growing larger, its girth stretching you in the most delicious way. You can feel it pressing against your vaginal walls, each movement sending ripples of pleasure radiating through your body. The sensation is overwhelming, a constant thrum of pleasure that leaves you gasping for breath.

Your heart pounds in your chest, the rush of blood a rhythmic counterpoint to the thrum of the coat's purring. Each pulse of your heart sends a fresh surge of arousal coursing through your veins, making your skin flush and your breath come in short, sharp gasps. You're so attuned to the sensations that every twitch and shudder reverberates through you, a testament to the coat's mastery over your body.

And then, just when you think you can't possibly get any more aroused, the coat's phallus reaches a depth within you that makes your breath catch in your throat. You feel it probing against your cervix, a gentle nudge that sends a jolt of sensation straight to your core. Your eyes widen, and a startled gasp escapes your lips. "N-no," you stammer, your voice tremulous with a mix of desire and trepidation. "No. That place is for babies, not...not this."

In response, the coat's phallus vibrates, a low, rumbling sensation that reverberates deep within your belly. It's an acknowledgment, a silent affirmation of your boundaries, and the phallus withdraws slightly, avoiding the no-go zone with newfound respect. The change in sensation makes you gasp, and your hips jerk in response, the movement involuntary and desperate.

The vibrations increase in intensity, the coat's phallus humming with a steady rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. You can feel your body clenching around the thick intrusion, your muscles fluttering in time with the coat's purring. Your toes curl, and a series of soft, needy whimpers escape your lips, the erotic sounds mingling with the wet squelch of the coat's ministrations.

As the coat's phallus begins to move within you, your body responds with a rush of moisture, welcoming the thick intrusion with a slick warmth that makes each thrust an exercise in erotic sensation. The fabric inside you is velvety soft, yet unyielding, each stroke a delicious friction that stokes the fires of your arousal. The coat's movements are deliberate and measured, a slow, steady fucking that leaves you gasping for breath as it claims your body as its own.

The slithering galaxy that lines the coat's interior wraps gently around your throat, the cool fabric a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. It tightens slowly, a sexual choking that sends a thrill of fear and arousal coursing through you. Your eyes widen, and a gasp is torn from your lips as the fabric restricts your airway just enough to heighten your senses without causing harm. The loss of control, the helplessness of your position, only serves to intensify the pleasure that's building within you.

Your body clenches around the coat's phallus, your inner walls fluttering in time with the rhythmic tightening of the fabric around your throat. The dual sensations are overwhelming, a blend of pleasure and pain that leaves you writhing in the coat's embrace. You can feel your orgasm building, a slow, inexorable tide that threatens to sweep you away.

The room fills with dizzying and erotic sounds—the wet, slick noise of the coat's phallus moving inside you, the soft, needy whimpers that escape your lips with each thrust, the subtle rasp of fabric against your throat as you struggle to breathe. The coat's purring grows louder, a constant thrum of pleasure that seems to echo your own rapidly beating heart.

You're acutely aware of the sensory details—the feeling of the coat's fabric against your skin, the warmth of its body as it holds you aloft, the scent of your arousal mingling with the musky aroma of the coat's inner lining. It's an intoxicating blend that only serves to heighten your pleasure.

The phallus inside you seems to grow even larger, its girth stretching you to your limits as it plunges into your depths. You can feel it pressing against your g-spot, each movement sending jolts of sensation straight to your core. Your toes curl, and a series of soft, needy whimpers escape your lips, the erotic sounds mingling with the wet squelch of the coat's ministrations.

As the coat continues to fuck you, the fabric around your throat pulses in time with the thrusts, a rhythmic pressure that sends you spiraling towards the edge of ecstasy. Your vision begins to blur, stars dancing at the edges of your sight as the combination of sensory overload and restricted airflow push you closer to the brink.

Your body tenses, and then you're falling, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of overwhelming pleasure. Your cries echo through the room, a testament to the ecstasy that courses through your veins. The coat's phallus pulses within you, drawing out your climax until you're left a quivering, gasping mess in its grasp.

As the waves of your orgasm begin to recede, the coat gently releases its hold on your throat, allowing you to draw in a deep, shuddering breath. The phallus inside you softens, retreating back into the fabric of the coat's inner lining.

The aftershocks of your orgasm softly ripple through you and the coat's fabric shifts, its touch changing from demanding to soothing in an instant. You feel its fabric stroking your body, a gentle caress that traces the contours of your skin with a lover's precision. The sensation is both comforting and arousing, a reminder of the pleasure it's capable of bestowing upon you. So much better than it biting you.

"Can we cuddle now?" you mumble, your voice soft and sated. The coat seems to understand, its fabric tightening around you in a warm, comforting embrace. It lowers your body back to the bed as if you were the most precious thing in the realm.

You snuggle against the coat, your fingers gripping the lapels while your body still trembles from the intensity of your release. The scent of your arousal is heavy in the air, a musky aroma that mingles with the musty scent of the coat's inner lining. You can feel your juices leaking from your body, a slow, sticky trickle that slides down your inner thighs. Another mess you were going to have to clean up.

The coat, ever eager, seems unabashed by your wetness. Its fabric shifts between your legs, the tip of its phallus emerging once more to lap at the moisture that pools at your entrance like an eager tongue. The sensation is startling, a cool, wet touch that sends a jolt of pleasure coursing through you.

Your heart pounds against your ribcage like a caged bird desperate for freedom, each beat a staccato reminder of the pleasure that still courses through your veins. You're breathless, your chest heaving with each ragged inhalation as you try to regain some semblance of control over your body. But the coat, it seems, has other plans. Greedy for your pleasure.

"I can't," you protest weakly, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm exhausted."

The coat ignores your plea, its fabric shifting against your skin with a maddeningly sensual rhythm.

The tongue laps at your entrance, slurping up the remnants of your orgasm with an eagerness that borders on voracious. You can't help but squirm as it traces teasing patterns on your skin, each touch sending little shivers of sensation coursing through you. The sound of the coat's ministrations fills the room—a wet, squelching noise that's almost as arousing as the physical sensations.

"Please," you beg, your voice trembling with a mix of desire and trepidation. "It's too much."

But the coat is relentless, its tongue delving deeper into your folds with each passing moment. You feel yourself stretching once again to accommodate its girth, your body yielding to the coat's insistent advance. The sensation is intense, a mix of pleasure and a slight sting that leaves you gasping for breath.

You roll and writhe on the bed, your body twisting and turning in a futile attempt to escape the overwhelming sensations. The coat's fabric tightens around you, holding you aloft as it continues its erotic assault. You're trapped, completely at the mercy of the sentient garment that seems intent on wringing every last ounce of pleasure from your exhausted body.

"Stop," you plead, your voice breaking on the word. "I can't take any more."

The coat, however, seems determined to prove you wrong. It knows you, knows your limits. Its tongue plunges into your depths, pressing against your g-spot with a precision that only serves to heighten your arousal. You can feel your body clenching around the thick intrusion, your muscles fluttering in time with the rhythmic thrusts.

Your fingers grasp at the sheets beneath you, clenching as your makes rake against the soft fabric. You can feel the coat purring in response to your sounds of pleasure and writhes of ecstasy, the vibrations adding another layer of sensation to the mix.

Your body tenses, and then you're falling, your orgasm crashing over you in waves of overwhelming pleasure. Your cries echo through the room, a testament to the ecstasy that courses through your veins. The coat's tongue pulses within you, drawing out your climax until you're left a quivering, gasping mess in its grasp.

As the waves of your orgasm begin to recede, the coat gently releases its hold on you. Exhausted and sated, you collapse onto the bed, your body still trembling from the intensity of your release. The sound of your ragged breathing fills the room, a stark contrast to the silence that follows.

And then, just as you're on the brink of unconsciousness, you feel the coat's fabric shift against your skin one last time. It wraps itself around you in a warm, comforting embrace, a silent promise of protection and care. You snuggle against the coat, your fingers clutching at the fabric as sleep claims you at last. About fucking time.

The last thing you hear before darkness takes you is the soft, rhythmic thrum of the coat's purring, a gentle lullaby that lulls you into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Date Published: 7/4/24

Last Edit: 7/4/24

[mrs-nanami]

Women have many belongings. It used to vex Nanami. But it doesn’t anymore.

The first thing to migrate to his home, was your face lotion. He has a face lotion, a perfectly serviceable one, but you insisted on bringing your own. Your routine was important to you, you had told him, and Nanami understood. Routines, rules, structure – these are all things he has always respected, found meaning in. And so, in his bathroom, his drugstore razor, toothbrush, and facewash sat together, lined up like toy soldiers, right next to a luxurious indigo jar of face cream.

The rest of your routine follows shortly: the lilac bottle of mist that smells like aloe, the golden serum that smells like summertime, and the periwinkle tube of your green tea face wash. Your bergamot and sandalwood soap linger on his pillow, and when he can’t smell you on his sheets anymore, longing sits heavy and sticky in his throat.

Your clothes are next. Amidst his practical navy, gray, and blacks, appear pops of warm lilac, royal blue, and torched orange. He doesn’t mind it in the least – it would be entirely unreasonable for him to demand that you stop bringing such colorful clothes in his home, especially when he never really wants you to leave.

When the two of you finally just bite the bullet and put your name on the lease, Nanami imagines that his life will certainly become more colorful. But he doesn’t have the first idea of how many more things will be in his house.

All his life, Nanami has lived quietly, abstemiously. He is a jujutsu sorcerer – while his non-sorcerer peers were learning trigonometry, he was learning how to kill curses and how to die as a soldier dies: with resolve and bravery, to the bitterest end. His life has been fat trimmed from steak, practical solid color towels, plastic storage bins with plenty of clearing near the edge, never packed to capacity. A man who walks on the very edge of life and death doesn’t require more than the necessities. The very few things he indulges in are sensible: good whiskey, grade A rice, custom leather shoes (no broguing) built to take a beating.

You bring in your life to his, and it is completely different. You’re striped linens, fresh flowers, scented candles on every corner. Baby blue drinking glasses shaped like beer cans, artisanal ceramicware made by friends locally. Your life is marked by comfort, simple pleasure, and (dare he say it) the sweetest, most innocent frivolity. He supposes it’s really what he loves most about you, honestly. He’s always tended drawn closer to brighter, bolder personalities: earnest and warm, like Haibara and Itadori, not bombastic and irreverent, like Gojo or Tsukumo. You belong in the same shades of sunlight as Haibara and Itadori, but…tender. Like the dream-like throw of warm, rose tipped dawn that thaws the chill of his lonely apartment.

Now, in the mornings, he doesn’t wake to the desolate silence of a man alone. He wakes to the sound of your fluffy slippers in the kitchen, the smell of dark roast coffee, the sight of your toiletries sitting side by side in the bathroom, cozy and couple-like.

Somewhere between your checker print tea kettle, and the warmth of your body on the sheets, Nanami falls so in love with you that he looks back on his life and wonders how he ever lived, starved of the sun that is you, for so long.

[wingedblooms]

Elain Archeron, member of The Tortured Poets Department

i’m hearing voices like a madman - so high school

i’m seeing visions / am I bad or mad or wise? - guilty as sin?

you can mark my words that I said it first / in a mourning warning, no one heard - cassandra

and for a fortnight there, we were forever - fortnight

leaving me bereft and reeling / my beloved ghost and me / sitting in a tree / d-y-i-n-g - how did it end?

i saw in my mind fairy lights through the mist - so long, london

i cry a lot, but I am so productive, it's an art - i can do it with a broken heart

but my bare hands paved their paths / you don't get to tell me about "sad" - who’s afraid of little old me?

so I leap from the gallows and I levitate down your street / crash the party like a record scratch as I scream / "who's afraid of little old me?" / you should be - who’s afraid of little old me?

i hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind - i hate it here

one slip and fallin' back into the hedge maze […] i keep recalling things we never did - guilty as sin?

these fatal fantasies / giving way to labored breath, takin' all of me / we’ve already done it in my head / if it's make-believe / why does it feel like a vow we'll both uphold somehow? - guilty as sin?

wise men once said / "one bad seed kills the garden" / "one less temptress, one less dagger to sharpen" / locked me up in towers / but I'd visit in your dreams / and they tried to warn you about me - the albatross

a rose by any other name is a scandal / cautions issued, he stood - the albatross

i spied the catch in your breath - i look in people’s windows

what if I roll the stone away? / they’re gonna crucify me anyway / what if the way you hold me is actually what's holy? - guilty as sin?

"stay away from her" / the saboteurs protested too much - but daddy i love him

crashin' into him tonight, he's a paradox - guilty as sin?

it’s happenin' again / how did it end? / i can't pretend like I understand - how did it end?

this cage was once just fine / am I allowed to cry? / i dream of crackin' locks - guilty as sin?

thought I caught lightning in a bottle / oh, but it's gone again […] please / i’ve been on my knees / change the prophecy / don't want money / just someone who wants my company / let it once be me - the prophecy

cards on thе table / mine play out like fools in a fablе […] poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand / oh, still I dream of him - the prophecy

lilac short skirt, the one that fits me like skin […] and I'll tell you one thing, honey / i can tell when somebody still wants me, come clean - imgonnagetyouback

i, i hear thе whispers in your eyes / i’ll make you wanna think twice / you'll find that you were never not mine / (you’re mine) - imgonnagetyouback

'cause the sign on your heart / said it's still reserved for me / honestly, who are we to fight thе alchemy? - the alchemy

i'll tell you something right now / i’d rather burn my whole life down […] i'll tell you something 'bout my good name / it’s mine alone to disgrace / i don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing - but daddy i love him

if long-suffering propriety is what they want from me / they don't know how you've haunted me so stunningly / i choose you and me religiously - guilty as sin?

[sailorholly]

Strictly Business Pt. 8

The Ending

Summary: Spencer wants to gain sexual experience before asking out his dream date. You just want a way to release stress. What could go wrong?

Warnings: Smuttish. Friends with benefits. Mentions of pregnancy.

A/N: Sorry this took forever, life has been kicking my booty lately.

Strictly Business Masterlist

Spencer took Chloe out twice a week for three weeks. He tried to force a connection, but it didn’t feel the way he thought it should, the way it felt with you. He knew he should end things with her, but he kept waiting for the sparks to fly.

Tonight, Chloe told him she would meet him at his apartment. She had a surprise for him, so she was going to take him to the secret destination. When they arrive at the hotel, a suite is waiting for them. She must have been here earlier, setting it up.

Rose petals were scattered on the bed. A bottle of wine was chilling on the table. It was the most romantic set up he had ever seen. This is it, he thought. This is the night when it all comes together. There’s no way he could share a night like this with her and not fall for her.

Room service arrived moments later, delivering gourmet meals Chloe arranged for. Spencer sits across from her, pouring wine into her glass. “I thought it was time we take the next step in our relationship.” She tells him. He swallows thickly, trying not to choke. Spencer silently convinces his self that this would be good for them. It was finally time to put his new skills to the test.

He hopes this is the push he needs to feel something for her. When they finish eating, Chloe instructs him to wait on the bed for her. When she returns, she’s wearing the same floral, lilac lingerie set he bought for you. It brought back memories from the night he gave it to you, using the vibrator on you, how you looked when you came.

She climbs on top of him, peppering kisses across his face and down his neck. She runs her hand over his cock, straining against his pants. “I knew you would like this set.” She says confidently, thinking his erection was because of her. He flips her over, slowly kissing her. He should feel something by now. He always got aroused by your kisses.

But he felt nothing as he pressed his lips to hers. He looks at her body, the lingerie looked great on her, but she didn’t look like you. When he first saw it in the window of the store, he imagined you wearing it just for him. Thoughts of having sex with you flood his mind. You fit together perfectly. Maybe he could get through this with Chloe without thinking of you.

You squirm in your spot next to Penelope. She invited you, JJ, and Emily over for a girls’ night. You couldn’t focus on the silly games they wanted to play or the movie JJ put on. You decided not to drink tonight either. You weren’t in a good head space.

All you could think about was Spencer on his date with Chloe. He told you that she was surprising him tonight, and he sounded excited. You wanted to be happy for him, but it made your stomach upset when you thought about them together. He told you they hadn’t had sex yet, and for that you were thankful.

Tonight would be different, you had no doubt that Chloe planned to seduce him. They had been dating for almost a month. You were shocked they hadn’t slept together yet. “Okay, what’s wrong?” Emily asks, interrupting our thoughts. “You’ve been off all night.” JJ observes.

Tears spill down your face as you tell them everything. The practice sex, the lingerie, the vibrator, Rossi and the jet. They all gather around you, pulling you into a giant group hug. “You should tell him how you feel.” Penelope rubs your back.

“I can’t. He’s dating Chloe. I couldn’t do that to him. He’s finally happy.” They try to convince you the rest of the night. When you go into work the next morning, you don’t have time to ask Spencer about his date. Hotch rushes you all to the jet, the case was urgent. You walk passed him on the plane, avoiding your usual seat beside him. Instead you sit beside Rossi, who looks curiously between you two.

The day passes quickly. Tips from the police hotline flood in and you’re sent with JJ to check on them. When you make it back to your hotel room, you’re grateful you got a room to yourself so you can be alone with your thoughts. Your phone lights up with the sixth text from Spencer today.

You hadn’t responded to any of them. You sigh loudly. You were being a bad friend. He didn’t share details of his personal life with anyone but you. He probably just wants to fill you in on last night. You were the one who made him confident enough to have sex with her. It was all your fault you were in this situation.

That’s what you keep telling yourself as you made the short trip down the hallway to Spencer’s room. “Hey! I thought you were mad at me or something.” Spencer says, letting you into his room. You smile weakly, failing to hide your true feelings.

“Wait, you are mad at me?” He asks frowning, as he closes the door. “I’m not mad at you, Spencer. I’m mad at myself for feeling the way I do when I have no right to.” He studies your face, concerned. “What are you talking about?” You walk out of the doorway, to sit on his bed. He sits beside you, taking your hand in his to comfort you.

“Spencer, we never should have slept together. I am ruined for life. No one is going to make me feel the way you do. It’s not supposed to feel like that every time with your best friend.” Spencer stands, facing you. “You think I don’t know that, that it’s magic between us? You think I don’t feel guilty because it’s supposed to be like that with Chloe, but I can’t even go through with it because all I can think about is you?”

“You couldn’t sleep with her?” You ask, rising to meet Spencer. “No, I couldn’t do it. I just kept thinking of you the whole time. How it was so comfortable with you, so natural. I’m in love with you. I think I have been for a while. I just didn’t realize it.” He confesses, reaching down to caress your cheek. “I’m in love with you too, Spence. I’m sorry it took so long to tell you.” He embraces you, soft lips crashing against yours.

Four Months Later

“Spill the beans. You two have been acting all weird and secretive. What’s going on?” Penelope asks after trapping you and Spencer when you got to work. You looked at Spencer and he nods, smiling. You open your coat, and lift your oversized sweater, revealing a small baby bump. You had been wearing clothes that weren’t form fitting since you found out.

Penelope squeals so loudly, it captures the rest of the team’s attention as they come in. They walk over as Penelope excitedly shares your news, gesturing to your stomach. “Congratulations again.” Hotch says. “My man, didn’t know you had it in you.” Derek pats Spencer proudly on the back. The girls swarm you as JJ starts making a list of everything you’ll need. Rossi grins, “I knew it when you couldn’t eat my pasta two weeks ago!”

Tags (cont. in comments)

@cindylynn @multifandom-worlds @mochie85 @modern-mermaid @analethicia @marimorena06 @ghostheartbeat @clownprincess09 @thebiggestscamislife @whistle1whistle @lockwoods-coat-and-reids-vests @twsssmlmaa @cynbx @padlockedhearts @wheredafandomat @salempoe @emarich7 @itzdarling @anonymously-ominous @vivian-555 @cashtons-wife @regulus-black-223048 @nomajdetective @dazedgye @jesuisbenny @simpingforharryandcevans @misacc08 @wowzabowza69 @spencvrr @the-uncoordinated-house-cat @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @academiareid @nikkisheep @dephylirium @panhoeofmanyfandoms @its-not-too-late-for-coffee @wildernessflora @mypurplecrocs @idkbubs @ajstarkpetrova