#floral bed sheets

[cottonbedsheet]

Elegant Floral Cotton Bed Sheets for Cozy Sleep

Add a touch of nature to your bedroom with our elegant floral cotton bed sheets. Designed for comfort and style, these sheets feature durable, breathable materials and vibrant floral prints that enhance your space. Make every night's sleep a luxurious retreat. Available in a variety of sizes.

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[vaahomedecor]

Vintage Floral Bed Sheets Set: 100% Cotton Floral Bedsheets

The beauty of our vintage floral bed sheets set, experience classic elegance with our vintage floral bedsheets set. Buy floral bedsheet sets online now!

[mrs-trophy-wife]

[xoxochb]

I want to sleep forever. not in a suicidal way, I just want to lay in my bed and sleep. I love sleeping

[youre-myfavoritebird]

[sixteen-bit]

cat scan by Harriet Ryman Via Flickr: Taken by Howie.

[randomreasonstolive]

Reason to Live #8932

 Getting new sheets with floral designs.  – Guest Submission

(Please don't add negative comments to these posts.)

[souenkun]

July recap! 🏖

[corvidaedream]

explaining the convoluted rules of english 18th century fashion to a friend (specifically in the decade & region of the american colonies im in) and how i find them really restrictive compared to other regions & cultures' styles

and long story short, I had to very sadly type the sentence: "yeah, no, the ikea bedsheets are strictly formal"

[rockoblanco]

all the bedding that’s even remotely cute or fun is labeled “kids” like god forbid adults have character lol

[chrisweetheart]

pretty pink lips

"be quiet f’me," chris murmured, his eyes locking with yours as he glanced up from between your thighs. his lips brushed feather-light kisses from your knee to your inner thigh, deliberately avoiding the spot where you ached for him the most.

"mmm—chris," you whimpered, squirming beneath his touch.

"shh, baby…" he muttered, his breath warm against your skin, right before dragging a slow, teasing lick up your dripping folds.

you grabbed a fistful of his hair, pulling tightly, and the deep moan that escaped him vibrated through your core. your back arched off the bed as your thighs clenched around his head, holding him close.

with his lips sealed around your clit, he lazily sucks it into his mouth, his tongue moving slowly and gently over the sensitive skin.

his strong hands pin your hips down, keeping you from squirming as your grip on his tousled brunette curls tightens. he lets out a soft whine against you, the vibration sending a shiver through your body.

“harder, baby,” chris groans, his voice thick with need, before his mouth returns to your swollen, puffy clit, latching on with renewed intensity.

your stomach clenched, and your legs began to tremble as he pressed them firmly into the bed, holding you in place. desperately, you gripped the soft, pink floral sheets beneath you, riding the wave of your orgasm that crashed over you.

“chris— i— it hurts!” you whimpered, tugging on his hair. he looked up at you with wide, innocent eyes and a pretty smirk on his face, a stark contrast to the intensity of his touch.

“y’can take it,” he murmured, before sliding his middle and ring fingers into your entrance without warning. the sudden stretch pulled a loud, shameless moan from your lips. his pace remained relentless as he suckled messily on your swollen clit, drawing out every last sensation.

he was so hard just from tasting you, it ached. desperate for relief, he grinded himself against the bed, trying to ease the painful pressure in his pants.

you wrapped your legs tightly around his head, pulling him closer to your core. he momentarily lifted his lips from you to catch his breath, and the sight of him made your heart skip—his face glistened with your wetness, his pretty pink lips slightly parted, breath coming in ragged gasps, eyes heavy with exhaustion but still full of hunger.

"chris, don’t—don’t stop..." you whimpered, your hips instinctively bucking up toward his face.

"wasn't plannin' on it," he smirked, and without hesitation, his fingers quickened inside you, curling just right, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot.

he was completely lost in you, drunk on the taste of your pussy, his mind too fogged with lust to think of anything else. his cock throbbed painfully, trapped in his grey sweatpants, as he rutted into the mattress for any kind of release.

"mmph—chris!" you moaned, and the sound of his name rolling off your lips was all it took. his body went rigid, and with a strangled groan, he came hard in his pants, hips jerking as his lips finally broke free from you.

he rested his head against your inner thighs, eyes closed as you gently stroked his hair, the both of you savoring the quiet moment. after a few breaths, he lifted himself from between your legs and crawled on top of you, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to your lips. the taste of yourself lingered on his tongue, making the kiss all the more intoxicating.

"my turn..." you giggled, sitting up and playfully pushing him back against the headboard, your eyes sparkling with lust.

@ CHRISWEETHEART

[vaahomedecor]

Floral Printed Bed Sheet: Bring Nature's Beauty to Your Bed

Discover our collection of floral printed bed sheet, designed to your bedroom decor with our floral bed sheet. Explore our range of floral bedsheets now...

[mariasont]

hi pookie! <3

i loved loved loved the recent lipgloss fic! could you write smth about perfume? like bimbo! reader smells sweet asf and all of a sudden reid (or hotch) comes into the office smelling suspiciously sweet

tytyty!! <333

Suspiciously Sweet - S.R

a/n: hiiiiiii pookie!!!!!!! thank u so much for requesting i loved this lololol

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

warnings: fluffiest fluff, established relationship, spencer's relationship almost being exposed, hotch saving his ass, hotch hinting to having a secret girlfriend (aka my girl bimbo!assistant)

wc: 1.3k

You had a very distinct scent. This wasn't a bad thing, no, far from it. It was sweet and intoxicating, it reminded him of ripe peaches in the height of summer and cherries soaked in syrup, with a hint of something citrusy that reminded him of lazy afternoons in the sun. Was that too poetic? Spencer wasn't sure.

He noticed it everywhere. In the office, where it announced your arrival before you said a word. He noticed it at home. His pillows, his sheets, even the collar of the sweater you'd borrowed once—it was all steeped in the same honeyed scent that lingered after you left his bed, as if you were something he couldn't wash away—not that he wanted to.

This was why Spencer had started sleeping in on weekends when you stayed over. It wasn't laziness—not exactly—but how could he resist staying wrapped up in the thing that reminded him most of you?

Especially on those mornings when you were still half-asleep and clingy, burrowing into him with sleepy little hums, like you were trying to fuse yourselves together, and somehow, it worked. Your scent didn't just stick to his things, it stuck to him, sinking into his skin and leaving him a little dazed by the time you finally rolled out of bed.

Sure, he could rationalize it with some scientific explanation about heat transfer, molecules, or something equally clinical. But science (and he hated to admit this) didn’t account for how it made him feel.

Unfortunately, those feelings, didn't do him any good when one of those slow mornings he was becoming so fond of turned into an emergency call from Hotch about a case.

Now, he found himself here, hunched over the impossibly small sink in the jet's cramped bathroom, scrubbing his hands raw for what felt like fortieth time today. The scent wouldn't budge. It was as though it had soaked into his skin. He knew it was his fault—he couldn't seem to stop his hands from roaming across every inch of your body morning.

It wasn't that he minded smelling like you, but focusing on case details and running probability algorithms became infinitely harder when every breath reminded him of how tightly you had wrapped yourself around him just hours before.

He let out a bated breath, shutting off the sink before pushing his way into the main cabin of the jet. He found his way to his favorite seat, third back on the left side, which happened to be located far enough from the engines to minimize auditory distractions.

Morgan looked up, sniffing once as Spencer slid by. "Man, I don't know what it is, but something smells good in here."

Spencer tensed, his stomach dropping. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he fought the urge to whip around. Surely it wasn't that strong. It couldn't be.

Rossi glanced up from his crossword, brows furrowing.

“Huh. I was thinking the same thing. It’s faint, but it’s nice. Like fruit or… maybe something floral?” Rossi’s nose wrinkled as he added, “Certainly an improvement over Morgan’s cologne.”

Spencer ducked his head so fast it could've looked like a nod, his cheeks burning as he avoided everyone's gaze.

JJ came out of the coffee area moments later, glancing at the case file in her hand as she passed him. She stopped abruptly, sniffed the air, then frowned.

"Wow, Spence, you smell really good. Did you finally cave and buy cologne?"

Spencer blinked up at her, every ounce of blood in his body rushing to his face.

"Uh, no," he said flatly, trying to mask the embarrassment. "I suppose I woke up smelling like this."

Technically not a lie.

He was acutely aware of everyone's eyes on him. Emily tilted her head, brow furrowing before a wide grin spread across her face. Not a good sign, he concluded.

"Wait a second," she said, pointing at Spencer. "That smells exactly like outside of Cruz's office. I pass it all the time."

Spencer cleared his throat, his fingers tightening around the armrests as his mind scrambled for an explanation—any explanation—to divert their growing attention. He could practically feel the walls closing in on him. He was doomed. This was it.

Spencer’s pulse was thundering in his ears, his face still flushed, when Hotch finally set down his pen.

For a second, Spencer braced himself for the worst, the horrifying moment when even Hotch would add to his scrutiny.

"That smell? It's the same hand sanitizer Cruz keeps in his office. He offered it to me after a meeting—probably the same stuff Spencer borrowed when he spilled his coffee this morning."

Spencer looked to Hotch, mouth opening and closing before nodding as if in agreement. "Yeah, that's... probably it."

The rest of the ride passed, to Spencer’s immense relief, without further incident. Morgan gave him a few odd looks now and then, but Spencer was too preoccupied, his thoughts spinning as he tried to figure out why Hotch had saved his ass.

When the last of the team finally stepped off the plane, Spencer hung back, letting the others pass. Hotch did too, falling in step beside him. His pace was slower than usual, his gaze fixed forward, but when he spoke, his voice was loud enough for Spencer to hear.

"Word of advice, Reid—next time, carry mints and a travel sized bottle of something unscented. You'd be surprised how much that helps."

Spencer’s head whipped around, his face going a deep shade of red. Hotch, meanwhile, kept walking, his expression completely neutral, as though he hadn’t said anything at all.

—

"He said what?"

You were laughing uncontrollably, the kind of laugh that made your shoulders shake and left you gasping for air, your hands grabbing him for balance. Rollers filled your hair—a ritual you'd patiently explained to him before—and loose wisps curled around your face. And your smile, well, he was perfectly certain it was the prettiest he'd ever seen you.

"Yup," Spencer confirmed, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

You froze mid-giggle, eyes narrowing.

"Wait, wait, wait—how does he know that? Is Hotch speaking from experience or something?" You blinked, then gasped dramatically. "Oh my gosh, what if Hotch has, like, a secret girlfriend? What if it's someone at the BAU? What if it's Garcia?"

"It's not Garcia, and it's definitely not a secret." Spencer raised an eyebrow, glancing at you as if the answer was obvious. "Hotch has been dating his assistant for years. He thinks it's some big secret, but it's... not. He picks her up lunch at least twice a week, and his closed-door meetings with her? Not as inconspicuous as he thinks."

You gasped, practically bouncing in place as you grabbed Spencer's sleeve. "Shut up! I didn't know that! I love her clothes. Do you think she'd tell me where she shops? That red skirt she wore the other day was everything."

“You don’t need any more skirts,” Spencer said, his fingers finding the sensitive spot between your hip and ribs, pinching just enough to make you squirm on the countertop. “If your closet gets any fuller, you’re going to have to rent out a second apartment just for storage.”

You giggled, tightening your legs around him and clinging to him like a koala, your arms looped snugly around his neck.

"That's why I have your apartment," you said, sticking out your tongue. "Plenty of space for my skirts, and you get to see me model them. Win-win."

"When you put in like that, it's kind of hard to say no."

He leaned in as he spoke, his lips brushing against yours softly at first, teasing and testing, like a flicker of fire before it catches. You giggled into the kiss, your laughter blending into his smile. The kiss deepened, honey-slow and sweet, golden warmth spreading through his chest as you pressed closer, closing every last bit of distance between you.

When you pulled back, his lips still tingling, you grinned. "Wow, you really do smell like me."

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[ddejavvu]

Mei!! I have a request for Logan!! I imagine being in bed after waking up from a long night of sleep your smell is more prominent all over the sheets and stuff and I thought that would be really interesting to have Logan go feral over it in the morning! If this makes any sense <3

The Morning After - Logan Howlett x Reader

send me logan requests!

You're surprised that you're able to get through the duration of a shower without Logan bursting in to join you, but when you exit the bathroom and find him in bed panting and groaning, you understand why.

Logan's face is buried in the sheets, his head laid sideways on the mattress as his hand disappears beneath the blankets. You don't have to see it to know he's got his fist wrapped around his cock, tugging harshly on it as he breathes deeply into the sheets.

"Logan-?" You hum, but you should have known it's impossible to sneak up on him- he groans at your voice and only grinds harder into his hand.

"I can smell it," He grunts, voice agonizingly strained, "I can smell- last night, we didn't clean up as much as we thought we did. I can still smell it- I can still smell you, and-" His voice peters off into a husky groan as he tightens his fist, stroking his dick so forcefully that it must be painful.

You join him on the bed but you're freshly showered, offering only a floral scent compared to the smell of sex on the sheets. Still, he welcomes the warmth of your body, yanking your hand over to replace his own.

"There, shit," He pants, open-mouthed into the sheets as his tongue extends to press against the fabric, "Oh my god, honey I can smell it, you were so wet. You were fuckin' ruined, god."

Frankly, you feel ruined now, your pussy pulsing greedily at his wanton display. Your free hand flies between your own legs and you begin touching yourself at the same merciless pace that you're stroking Logan off at, and his eyes snap open when he smells the real, present arousal between your thighs.

"There's the real thing." He grunts, nudging your hand away from his dick to flip himself over and bury his head in your lap. He bumps your hand out of his way with the tip of his nose, and now you're left empty-handed and aching as he inhales from between your thighs.

"Don't worry about a towel," He grunts, burying his face deep into your cunt and locking you in place with his hands against your hips, "I want you to fuckin' ruin these sheets, baby. I wanna smell this tomorrow. I wanna smell this a fuckin' week from now- I wanna smell this for the rest of my life."