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#gardenia glow
sensitiveseal · 16 days
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mlp gen 3 stimboards - gardenia glow 🪷
x - x - x | x - x - x | x - x - x
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charmsponies · 2 months
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Oh yeah here are silly contest entires I did for Valentine’s day lol
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artisticmiles · 21 days
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Gardenia Glow poses with a caterpillar.
Somewhere on Dartmoor, in Devon, England.
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g0obs-archive · 2 years
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Gardenia Glow | gen 3 mlp | stim-board
x x x ° x X x ° x x x
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bruciemilf · 2 months
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On Mother’s Day, Bruce’s voice dies quietly.
He leaves Alfred a gorgeous floral arrangement, laid with careful, hesitant , dirt stained hands, right by his bed. Ivy’s gardening tips had paid off.
They’re on the table by dinner time, crowned right in the center, yet no words pass between them. There’s no need.
Dahlias for Martha, hyacinths for Thomas, and gardenias for Alfred. Bruce doesn’t leave them by the mausoleum, thought. The kids do, — because they are that, to him, only to him, —
Clark gives him flowers, too, making his brows curve in surprise. He didn’t expect to get anything.
(There’s also a dinner, Clark informs him, — and he has this subtle command to him. It’s a talent not many notice. He makes an order sound like a suggestion, and Bruce can’t say it’s not a little alluring.)
“That’s too bad, ‘cause I’M taking you to dinner, so E.T better back off,” Jason grumbles, scowling down his novel, pretending to hate the tea Bruce made for him.
He blinks. “Damian is very adamant on going out as well,—“
“And me!” Dick cuts in, his grin wide and glowing moonlight, “Sorry Jaybird, I’ve been planning this for months. Better luck next time.”
“Uh, fuck you? Don’t you have an ‘absente son’ contest to win somewhere?”
“Hm, I don’t know! Don’t you have a bomb to plant in B’s car? Better hurry, you might actually succed this time!”
Bruce grunts, parental displeasure shaping his face, even if he knows very well this brotherly vendetta has no poison behind it. His babies were so stubborn. “Be nice to each other.”
“Have I shot him? No? That means I’m being nice.”
“You know what, you better get over your youngest child attitude, because you don’t run this place anymore,—“
“What, sorry, Queen Elizabeth? I couldn’t hear you over your anti aging cream, can you say that again?”
Bruce is dragged away by Damian while they’re fighting, naturally.
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gurugirl · 8 months
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The Big Tease | bfd!harry
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*photo is for t-shirt placement visual only. please picture who you like as reader.
best friend's dad!harry x reader - forbidden relationship au
Summary: based loosely on this request - Harry comes to your place to make sure you're taking care of yourself and you find that as hard as you try to tease him, he's not giving in to you and then some high emotions are exposed.
Word Count: 7.8k words
Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, angst, age gap, cheating
bfd!harry masterlist
You tried not to feel guilty about what you were doing with a married man. Your best friend’s dad. It was hard when it came to keeping it a secret from everyone. Keeping it a secret from Fae.
“Where’d you get this?” Fae brushed her fingers over the pretty little bracelet Mr. Styles gave you a few nights before. It was gold with three round light-colored opals in the center and two round-cut tiny diamonds on either side. It was dainty and sweet and you knew it was expensive after googling the brand and finding the exact item available online and in high-end shops nearby.
“Ahh… my mom and dad got it for me a while ago. Just haven’t worn it in a long time. Forgot it about,” you lied with a shrug. Lying to her made you nauseous.
“Really? How could you forget about this? It’s gorgeous! Looks really pretty on you too,” she complimented and you frowned as you looked down at it.
You hated lying to your best friend. But what could you do? You certainly wouldn’t admit to your affair with her father. And of course, you weren’t quite feeling guilty enough to put an end to it either. Mr. Styles was the best you’d ever had and you were completely smitten with him.
When you two finally made it back to your apartment after shopping and eating and stopping at the ice cream shop for a treat you’d also forgotten all the lovely flowers you had sitting around your living room and kitchen.
It had also become a thing where you’d get the most exquisite bouquets delivered to you every Monday morning. Peonies, roses, phalaenopsis orchids, and gardenias all stuffed with hardly any filler. You knew the bouquets he was sending you were hundreds of dollars a pop. But they were breathtaking.
You quickly assessed in your mind whether or not you’d removed the cards from them which would have given everything away should Fae see. Unlocking your door and letting yourself in first you quickly glanced around and the freshest bouquet clearly still had its card poking out of it. You made a beeline across the room as Fae closed your door behind her and plucked the tiny card out, crumpling it in your hand, and then bent down next to the table to pretend you were doing something else.
“Those are so pretty, Y/n. Oh my god. Do you have a flower service or something?”
You had three bouquets placed around your living room. One was clearly old and some of the flowers were drooping, losing their vibrant colors, while the newer ones were full of soft pinks and purples, crisp white and cream…
“Yes. I decided to start treating myself to nice flowers every week.” You smiled. Another lie. You couldn’t afford a weekly delivery of these kinds of flowers and if Fae bothered to research how expensive bouquets like this were she’d have questioned you further. But luckily she didn’t.
The bracelet, the flowers, your glow… all things she noticed, could have been an indicator of a lover but as far as you could tell she hadn’t connected the dots. Or at least she didn’t voice it to you.
Of course, everything could be explained. But she was your best friend. If you weren’t more vigilant, she’d be catching on soon, you were sure.
.           .           .
The following day after a morning shift at the restaurant you arrived home and collapsed on your couch. It was exhausting. The restaurant was only open for breakfast and brunch on the weekend (where normally it’s only a dinner spot the rest of the week) and it was slammed. Mimosas, eggs benedict, fancy French tarts, and pastries, huge parties of people, music, guests nursing hangovers… The restaurant was well known for its weekend breakfast and brunch with bottomless mimosas and Bloody Marys. The clientele were usually upper-class folks who didn’t mind spending $35 for their mimosa and then only ordering 2 when they could have had as many as they wanted. A local creamery provided butter, yogurt, and milk for your special breakfast dishes, and a bowl of fancy yogurt and some in-house granola was $15. The cheapest food item on the breakfast menu. The cheapest item on the menu was a cup of black coffee, refillable. Unless you ordered the free tap water.
You got lucky to eat anything while you served breakfast. It was typically too busy to take a bite of anything. But the tips were excellent because everyone was usually in a great mood.
You were startled awake by your phone vibrating in your back pocket. You’d fallen asleep without even realizing you’d closed your eyes.
Pulling the phone out from under your body you realized it was Harry calling you (he normally didn’t call unless it was prearranged).
“Hello?” You sat up as you answered.
“Baby! I was worried. Are you okay? I didn’t hear back from you.”
Harry had a thing where he wanted you to text him when you got home from work to let him know you made it safely, even if it was a morning shift. He was always so worried about you but you kind of loved it.
“I’m fine. Sorry! I fell asleep as soon as I sat down on the couch. God, I’m so exhausted. Fae was here late last night and then I had the breakfast shift so I only had like four hours of sleep…”
“Hey, it’s okay. I was just worried. I texted you and then never heard back. Just started to panic. Have you eaten?”
You smiled and his soft deep voice made you feel so comfortable and safe, “I haven’t eaten yet. I had a bit at work but just passed out as soon as I got here.”
“So you’ve only had something to eat at work? It’s already dinnertime, Y/n.”
Harry did have a tendency to sort of scold you like he was your dad. Maybe it was ingrained in him in some ways. To try and take care of you and remind you to do things like eat.
“Geez, Dad. I’ll get right on it,” you teased.
Harry was silent for a moment, which had you worried. Perhaps calling him ‘dad’ had been unwise.
But then suddenly his voice broke through the line, “I’m coming over. I have a feeling you don’t have any groceries and I’m gonna make you dinner. Something to eat.”
You scoffed, “I mean… I have food here. I will eat. You don’t have–“
“I’ll be there within an hour,” he interrupted and you nodded to yourself.
“O… Okay. Um… yeah. In an hour.”
.           .           .
You quickly showered and tossed your dirty clothes into your clothes hamper so they weren’t strewn about your bedroom floor. You tidied up and kept yourself busy until he finally arrived. You were getting all worked up knowing he was coming over.
You didn’t know what he had been telling Mrs. Styles about why he was leaving or when he’d stay with you overnight, or spend hours in your bed every week. Though there were times he could only come over quickly, most of the time he stayed with you long enough that he’d need a good cover story. You kind of hoped you could have him for the night.
When he knocked at your door and you opened it up for him you saw he had his hands full. One arm around a sack of groceries and in his other hand the bag he normally packed for when he was staying the night.
You smiled when you saw his handsome face and ushered him into your small apartment. He leaned in to kiss you quickly, “Just showered?” He asked.
“Well yeah,” you spoke as you closed the door and followed behind him to your kitchen, “I didn’t have the chance earlier because I fell asleep as you know,” you laughed.
“Mmhmm…” he grunted affirmatively as he began to remove the grocery items from the bag one by one.
You saw tomatoes, fresh basil, flour, mushrooms, cheese…
“What are you making?” You picked up the container of buffalo mozzarella and then looked at Harry.
“Margherita pizza. One of my favorite little recipes my mom used to make.”
You placed the container down, pulled his arm to drag him toward you, and stood on your tiptoes to kiss him.
He immediately paused what he was doing and wrapped his arms around you, deepening the kiss and then giving you a taste of his tongue.
But then he pulled away with his signature teasing smirk and went back to his task.
“You brought your bag. Gonna stay the night with me?”
He nodded as he folded the paper bag up neatly and then looked at you, “If that’s okay. Have to leave early, though.”
If that’s okay.
You laughed to yourself and nodded, “Of course, it’s okay, Harry. God, what I wouldn’t give to have you with me every–“ You stopped what you saying when you realized how suddenly serious that thought was. You did want him every night. You wanted him to yourself but you hadn’t discussed that with him before.
Harry placed the neatly folded paper bag down on your little counter and then pulled you back toward him with his hands on your hips, “Yeah? Every…? What? Every night? Want me every night, baby?” That same sneaky, devious smirk on his face had you melting and warm.
“I just meant, you’re always welcome,” you slid your hands up his chest and bit your lip. You were a little embarrassed that you admitted that but it was obviously too late now.
“I’m always welcome or you want me every night? Which is it?” He gripped you harder so you couldn’t escape his questions, his gaze.
You puffed a breath out through your lips with a laugh, “Both.”
He loosened his grip and brought a hand to your face, his eyes fixed to yours, “Both. I’d much prefer to be here with you every night too. Would if I could.” The thumb that trailed over your cheekbone and to your temple was soft and loving. You knew he meant what he said.
Harry’s pizza was superb. Your oven wasn’t quite right, he kept saying as he baked it but to you, it was the best thing that had ever come out of that cheap appliance.
“Usually like to make this in a brick oven. The one I’ve got in my backyard, but this will do in a pinch I suppose.”
Your mouth was full as you nodded, “So good.”
Harry laughed at your stuffed cheeks and the way you were gobbling down what he’d made.
“Aren’t you going to eat more?” You asked him finally when you’d swallowed your bite. He’d only had one slice.
“Already had dinner. But I wanted to feed you. Make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”
For some reason with a tummy full of Harry’s pizza and the kind gesture of his cooking to help take care of you had you reeling and needing more than just food.
Of course, it would have been impolite to just abandon cleanup but you were suddenly aware of how his sleeves were pushed up his forearms and how his dimples were extra deep accompanying his attractive smile. And his hair looked too tidy, you needed to get your hands in it. Needed to get him out of his clothes. Get those long fingers around your neck and touching your body immediately.
You set your plate down on the small kitchen table you were both sitting at and slid your hand up his thigh, “Oh is that why you came over here? The only reason?” You grinned and he leaned back into his chair and looked at you, keeping his own grin in check.
“Need to make sure my girl is healthy. Has everything she needs.”
“Yeah? And sometimes I need more than just food too, Mr. Styles.”
Harry crossed his arms over his chest and spread his legs slightly as you continued moving your hand upward, “Oh I know, sweet girl. You need a lot of things, don’t you?”
You nodded, “What about you? Do you need things too? From me? Anything I can help you with?”
Now his grin was breaking out over his face but it was cheeky, playful, “Of course I do.”
But he wasn’t giving in to your little game. He liked having you be the one to ask for it. You didn’t know why but he loved hearing you beg him. You always resisted begging. At first anyway. Sometimes he’d give in without you needing to.
“And what do you need from me?” You stopped short of putting your fingers over where you knew he was tucked under his pants. The obvious natural bulge he sported giving away where he normally liked to position himself.
“Whatever you’re willing to give me, love. But I’m here because you needed to eat first and foremost. And you needed some groceries.”
You laughed and skipped over his lovely cock and put your hand up to his chest, scooting your chair in a little closer, “I’ll give you anything you want, sir. All you have to do is ask.”
Harry smiled and licked his lips slowly, “I’m as content as I can be here with you right now. Could sit here all night listening to you talk. S’that what you want? Want to touch my chest,” he flitted his eyes down to where your hand was before looking back into your eyes, “and my thighs, and chat all night about my pizza making skills and your lack of healthy food?”
You folded your lips into your mouth to keep yourself from laughing. He was playing a game of chicken with you. You really wanted to win this time.
“Well, that does sound really nice. You’ve filled me up so good with your yummy pizza. Guess I don’t need anything more than stimulating conversation with you if that’s all you’re interested in.”
Harry swallowed and breathed a laugh out of his nose, “Fine. Pizza and conversation it is.”
You wanted to huff in frustration. He still had his arms crossed over his chest, just under where your fingers were toying with the buttons on his shirt. He wasn’t giving in. But you had a thought.
“I’ll be right back.”
You hopped up from the chair and pranced to your bedroom. If he wanted to tease so would you. Stripping off your sweats you dug out your thin white Hey Lover t-shirt and tied it up just under the center of your breasts, and black cheeky boy short panties. You’d pretend you were only getting comfy since it was already late in the evening. He’d know what you were up to but you could play it off like you just wanted to get into your comfy house clothes.
When you got back to the kitchen Harry was already cleaning up.
“Hey, let’s do that later. Wanna sit and talk a bit.”
Harry tsked you, his back still turned as he wrapped up the rest of the pizza in foil, “I worked hard on this. Don’t want it to go bad. You can go sit–“ when he finally turned his full gaze back to you he stopped mid-sentence. You saw his jaw clench and his nostrils flair.
Not fair. That was not fair of you.
You knew your top especially was going to drive him mad. It was thin and your nipples were poking through the material and he could certainly see the shadow of the deeper color of your areolas popping through.
And he did. You noted where his eyes roamed, pausing over your tits for a good few seconds before licking his lips and turning back around to finish his job.
“Go sit.” He said without a single note of sweetness or desire.
You smiled to yourself as you walked into the living room and sat on your couch. Putting on a little music you selected a good little playlist that you knew he’d like.
Trying to act as unbothered as you possibly could you found a comfortable position on the couch and leaned into your cushions as you waited for Mr. Styles to join you.
It wasn’t long before he was casually strolling into the living room and sitting on the couch, leaving a few feet between you two. He draped an ankle over his knee and sat back, looking totally cool and unbothered.
You stretched and gathered your hair into your hands to expose your neck as you spoke, “So, how was your day today, Mr. Styles? You already know all about mine.”
Harry nodded slowly as he looked at you, keeping his eyes on your face, “Normal. Woke up and worked out, read an article, and played some golf with a colleague. That’s it really. Now here I am feeding you and entertaining you with conversation,” he grinned and you saw his eyes quickly take in your neck.
You smiled and sighed, “Sounds nice. I’ve played golf a few times. I’m terrible at it, though. Once a guy who took me tried to straighten out my stance but it did no good. No matter how many times he helped me adjust my grip or pushed my legs to spread them out properly it just didn’t work,” you chuckled. It was true. You’d gone with a guy a couple of years back on a date. He was flirting with you when he tried showing you the proper way to stand and hold the club but it turned into making out in the golf cart and a quick fuck in his car before he dropped you at home.
“S’that so? He probably wasn’t a good player either if he couldn’t give you any tips to help you improve your game.”
You shrugged, “I don’t know. I think he was more interested in getting my clothes off than anything,” you kept your eyes on his to asses but there was nothing there that indicated jealousy.
You had to amp it up. Do something to make him lose it. Wanted to watch him thicken up in his pants.
Dropping your hair you tucked your legs under yourself and turned to face Harry. You knew he was trying his hardest not to let his eyes drop below your neck. He knew he’d be fucked if he took in the way the soft cotton stretched over your breasts.
“Anyway. Are you any good?” You allowed your own eyes to take him in fully. His composure was sure to falter at some point.
“Yeah. I’m all right. I can hold my own.”
His short answer was not exactly what you were hoping for but you didn’t let it deter you. For some reason, his standoffish behavior was getting you even more worked up.
“Bet you can hold your own. You’re just so naturally good at everything you do,” you moved your finger over your tummy, keeping your eyes on his, “I know first-hand.”
Harry raised his brows and the movement of your hand over your torso and then down toward the top of your panties had him dropping his sight to where you were softly ghosting your fingers along the elastic band. You tugged at the knot on your shirt before moving your hand back up toward your chest, your thumb pressed between your thin cotton t-shirt-covered tits.
He watched your fingers and then looked back up at you, “Do you? And what do you know of my skills?” He smiled softly. Still appearing totally unbothered.
You sighed and tilted your head, keeping your eyes on his before stretching your arms over your head and allowing your shirt to lift the tiniest bit, revealing the bottom of your breasts. You only put your arms down once you were satisfied that Mr. Styles had gotten a good look, “Well, for example, you just made me a pizza that was to die for. Also, you recently got promoted at work and now you’re some big shot,” you unfolded a leg from underneath your bum and stretched it out, pressing your bare foot onto Harry’s thigh, “And I’ve seen you work out,” you nudged his muscled thigh, “You put men half your age to shame. You’re so athletic…” you began to pull your foot away but Harry gripped your ankle and pulled your leg to drape over his thigh making you smile in triumph.  Though you’d not yet won this round, he was clearly giving in to you bit by bit.
“Hmmm…” Harry nodded and hummed quietly. He kept his hand on your shin and his eyes a safe distance from anything below your chin, “I know I’m good at a lot of things. Can make you dribble all over your chin by just pulling my pants down,” he licked his lips, “Feel like that’s a great skill of mine. What else…” his hand began to brush over your leg softly and you scoffed at him but of course, he was right. You both knew it. He made you drool and whiney and hot. He didn’t even have to do anything.
“That was one time. And you had your fingers in my mouth. It wasn’t because of your cock,” you lied. Well, his fingers in your mouth did have you drool down your chin and when he pulled his pants down, he teasingly pointed out how your chin was shiny and you’d dripped saliva down your neck and to your chest.
“No? Hmmm… but you were so desperate to get it in your mouth that you tried grabbing me and when I told you to be patient you whined and drooled all over the floor. You can pretend all you want, little girl. I see what you’re trying to do.”
You watched as his hand traveled up your leg and past your knee to your thigh, “Wearing this little getup… trying to seduce me. So desperate for me. But you’re gonna have to try a lot harder than this, Y/n. You can lie to yourself and pretend you're not bothered and change the subject and show me your pretty tits all you want. S’not gonna change the fact that you’re gonna wind up a messy little puddle begging me for anything I’ll give you. Isn’t that right?”
Your mouth dropped open in faux shock. He was right. But you weren’t ready to give up yet.
“Whatever you say, Mr. Styles. I know you like having your ego stroked. So go ahead and keep telling yourself that you’ve got the upper hand. We both know you’re already folding. I can sit here all night and chat with you like this if you want. Doesn’t bother me one bit.” You folded your arms across your chest with a grin.
Harry laughed quietly and shook his head. You were fun. He loved these moments with you. Loved giving you a hard time. Loved when you gave him a hard time. He softly pinched the inside of your thigh and you laughed, attempting to pull your leg away but he held you in place, large palms keeping your leg over him, fingers digging into your skin.
“Darling, you forget who you’re dealing with. I’m not the one resorting to skimpy clothes and trying to hide how turned-on I am. I see you trying to keep your legs pressed together. Hiding something,” he jutted his chin toward you and looked over the spot between your legs where he knew your panties covered up a tiny secret.
You wore black panties on purpose. Any wetness would be easier to hide, but keeping your legs pressed together could ensure he didn’t see the wet patch that had begun to spread. However, the way he was holding your leg over his lap made it quite difficult for you to not open your thighs a little.
“You just love to imagine that you’ve got me all bothered. But you’re wrong. I’m totally fine.”
Harry smiled and pulled at your leg further, causing a small yelp to slip out from your mouth followed by a tiny bit of laughter at the way you lost balance when you were pulled toward him, your other leg being tugged at to drape over his thigh.
“Good. Then we can just sit here and talk about the weather and maybe politics if you’re into that. Or is there another topic you had in mind since you’re so keen on just sitting chatting all night?”
You steadied yourself, back against the cushion as you pressed your legs together again and looked up at him innocently, “Randy called me the other day. Said he missed me. Apologized for being rude when we were together. That was nice to hear. The apology,” you wiggled your hips to fix your seating so you could appear more casual, despite having your legs in Harry’s possession over his lap.
Harry’s large palms ran up the outer sides of your thighs slowly before dragging back down to just above your knees, keeping his eyes on yours, “Oh really? Thinking about getting back with him then?” He spoke trying to tamper the playful smile on his face.
You snorted a laugh and grinned teasingly, drawing your fingers across your breasts, “Nahh… I can do better. I mean… maybe if I’m desperate and just need to scratch an itch. You know? Being a single girl gets hard at times. My dildo is only gonna give me a small taste of what a man can. Even if he’s not great in bed.”
Biting the inside of his cheek he nodded with dark eyes, “Would be such a shame to waste a good fuck on Rudy like that when you’ve got me at the helm. Of course, you're too stubborn to admit it. All you have to do is ask.”
 You sighed and dropped your hands to your lap with a pout, “Randy. His name is Randy. But anyway… I don’t have to beg Randy to fuck me. He’s never pretended he was unbothered by me. Always quite straightforward really. If he wanted sex all he had to do was tell me. You on the other hand,” you poked your finger into his arm, “like making it hard for me, which is quite impolite. So I’m okay with not having sex if you just aren’t up for it.”
Harry pushed a laugh out through his nose at your tease, “Rudy sounds like a fucking bore. And he never gave you an orgasm. Either you have really bad taste or you’re just a tease. I have a feeling I know which it is, too. Little girl likes to play games. I can play games if you want. But you know I’m gonna win.”
You knew he was right. You wanted his cock but he wasn’t budging. All you had to do was admit it. Ask him politely. And you would when you couldn’t handle it any longer but you were having fun and the back and forth was like foreplay for you.
He kept one hand grasped around the outside of your thigh while his other smoothed inward, fingers pushing your thighs apart the tiniest bit and then gently dancing upward. If he moved his fingers too far up he’d feel how damp you were already.
“I’m not playing games,” you spoke matter-of-factly, watching as his hand traveled over your skin, “I can just tell maybe you’re tired Perhaps you’ve had a long day and it’s almost bedtime for you. I mean I get it,” you laughed in preparation for what you were about to say, “When you get to be your age things just slow down a little. It’s okay if you’re not up for it tonight, sir.”
Harry pulled his lips into his mouth and closed his eyes as he laughed at your attempt to provoke him.
When he looked back at you his expression was serious as he pried your legs apart, swiping the pad of his pointer finger right over the wet material of your panties and raised his brows as if he was shocked. Though you knew he was goading you, “You know goddamn well that my age has nothing to do with my libido. Difference between me and you is that I have incredible willpower and I know that you’re gonna be begging me to stuff your pussy before the night is over.”
You laughed and shook your head, “Nope.”
Harry pressed his thumb right over where your clit was already aching and grinned, “Yep.” Popping the p for emphasis. “See I’ve already got you soaking your panties. Goosebumps on your legs. Your nipples are hard. Your face is warm. I bet your heart is pounding too, just wishing you were getting the life fucked out of you right now. And you could be,” he spoke lowly as he slid a finger under the fabric of your panties and smoothed it over your skin, but not touching your crease or your clit like you hoped, “If you just admit it.”
You noticed that his cock had plumped under his pants. A good sign, you figured, “Nothing to admit. I might be turned on but I can hold out. In fact, I’d bet you’re not in much better shape with your cock swelling up like it is. You need this wet pussy to soothe that big dick, don’t you?”
Harry’s undisturbed body language was a concern because even though his prick was growing harder by the minute, you were starting to boil while he still seemed unphased.
“Oh, honey…” Harry smiled at you like you were a pitiful thing, “I’m doing just fine. In fact, probably just gonna fuck my own fist before we go to bed since you’re so stubborn. Maybe I’ll let you watch me too. I’ll be just fine. Just love being here with you. We don’t always have to have sex.”
You clenched your jaw and huffed imagining that scene. Having Harry yank his cock with his big hand until he was coming on your floor. You’d want to lick it up off the floor too. Scoop it all up and swallow it down. He had you obsessed with his come. Well, with him in general.
You tried to think of something to say but your brain was stuck on the image of him slowly stroking his fat cock and saying filthy shit to you while you tried to hold it together and not give in to your own urges.
“What’s wrong, baby?” Harry lifted a hand to your face and brushed his thumb along your jaw and up over your cheek, “Need to tell me something?”
Your lips parted and you breathed out a small whimper and squished your eyes closed. Your determination was crumbling with his soft touches.
“S’okay. If you don’t mind,” Harry pushed your legs off of him and quickly began to unbutton his pants, “S’getting tight in there…” he pulled his pants down just a touch so that the bulge under his briefs was now poking out and he had a bit more space to breathe.
He pressed over his erection and straightened himself out and suddenly the tip of his cock was peeking out over the band of Calvin Kleins. You closed your eyes again and tried to will yourself to not give in to him. But what was fair was fair. You were teasing him with your body and now he was returning the favor.
When you heard Harry chuckle you opened your eyes to look at him and your head was fuzzy. He was literally mouth-watering. He’d unbuttoned his shirt so you could see his tattoos and the large erection poking out from his briefs was like an actual cherry on top of it all. You licked your lips and swallowed down your saliva as you stared at his swollen head. It looked like something you could just pop into your mouth and suckle on if you weren’t so stubborn.
But Harry loved how stubborn you were. You really did make him work for it. You were exciting and sweet and he loved the way you teased him.
“If you want some you can have some, sweetheart. I know you’d like a taste. S’right there for you if you just ask politely.”
You groaned and looked away from him but your eyes were burning and all you could think about was straddling his lap and pushing his briefs down so you could fuck yourself on him. You were actually vibrating and pulsing you were so turned on.
And when you thought about it all… how this was all just a game anyway. How you both knew you’d end up with his come dribbling out of your cunt and satisfied and fucked out before you went to bed you laughed, “Fuck it…” you said as you crawled yourself over his lap and Harry’s hands found your hips, “I want you. Okay? You win.”
He had a pleased smile on his face when he felt you press your soaked panties over his briefs and plaster your lips over his in finality.
He would have laughed and teased you for giving in but he was thankful you did. Because he was aching for you.
You were desperate too. You pulled away from the kiss and put your hands down to his briefs and pushed at the material before sliding the crotch of your panties to the side and letting your wet hole kiss his tip softly as you looked into his eyes, “Can I please have it?”
Harry’s smirk fell from his face the moment you began to lower yourself, coating him in your slick arousal, “Yes. Take what you want. Fuck…”
The music was soft and you could barely hear the lyrics as you began to work yourself down and up along his length. You moaned as you felt him poke deep and keened, sucking in a sharp breath, “So thick…” you panted.
You were wetting Harry’s briefs and the tops of his pants but he didn’t care in that moment. He’d take care of the issue after you were done, “Yeah? Needed to stuff yourself with my cock didn’t you darling? Feels good?”
You nodded and held onto the back of the couch as Harry moved his hands from your hips up to the bottom hem of your top and pushed the material up so he could finally look at your pretty breasts. His favorite. He leaned in and suckled your tit into your mouth and you gasped softly.
You began to ride him a little faster, sticky slick noises coming from between your bodies as you writhed up and down his cock.
“Harry!” You shouted his name in a desperate plea. You didn’t know what you were pleading for but you just wanted more. His tongue and lips and teeth on your tits and his heavy, hard dick inside of you were really all a girl could ask for.
Harry moaned and licked over the spot he nipped next to your nipple and moved his lips over your soft flesh as he spoke, “Poor thing… so needy for me. Should have just given in the first time I told you to, baby.”
The couch under you squeaked gently as you rose and fell over him. The relief of having him inside of you had you tearing up.
Harry tilted his head back to look at your face. And just as he expected you were completely insatiable. Your expression was hungry and lusty with your lips parted, a pained look across your features.
Harry cooed at you and slid his hands up from your soft breasts to cup your face and make you kiss him. Your mouths moved together slowly as you shifted over him, slowing down a little now that your mouths were connected.
Harry pulled away, keeping his hands at your face, “Slow down a little bit. Here…” he dropped one hand to your hip and stilled you, pushing you down all the way over his shaft until you were firmly seated in his lap and his tip was stuffed so far inside of you it hurt making you whine and quiver.
“Like that. Just sit and feel me. No need to hurry. Gonna always take care of you. Okay?” His lips pressed over yours again and you moaned into his mouth.
You acted as if you were starved. You canted your hips slightly to glide your clit against his pelvic bone and he gasped and pulled away again, “I know you need it, baby. Just slow down. You were so desperate weren’t you?” He thumbed at your cheek and wiped your tears with a grin, “Always my good girl. Aren’t you?”
You bit your lips and whimpered as you nodded. You felt like a pathetic girl. It was like the moment his cock was inside of you all your good sense flew out the window and you were a melty, needy puppy in despair, deprived of attention and love. You needed more and more and more every time he entered you. It only got worse as the months crawled on and your affair got more serious.
“I wanna be your only good girl. Please…” You slid your shaky fingers into his hair and smoothed your lips over his with a tremulous breath.
Harry rocked upward, dipping into your sensitive insides and you gasped again, parting your lips from his.
“Look at me, Y/n…” Harry spoke as he moved a hand to the back of your neck.
You locked eyes with him and your sad little pout had him leaning in to give you a soft kiss at the corner of your mouth before he looked back into your eyes, “You’re my good girl. No one else. Just you, baby. Understood?”
You nodded and sniffled, “But I’m not,” You jutted your bottom lip out like a child and felt ridiculous. You didn’t know what had you so emotional suddenly. Maybe it was the build-up and all the teasing. Or the way you always gave in to him and he was so cool and secure in himself while you were shaky and desperate.
Harry moved a hand down your back and kept his other hand brushing softly over your cheekbone, “Yes you are. You’re mine. You’re my only.”
You didn’t want to say it. Hated to bring it up but you couldn’t help it or you thought you’d explode if you didn’t tell the truth, “But you’re married. I might be yours but you’re not mine.”
He hadn’t quite expected it. You knew the situation. He couldn’t just leave his wife of 20+ years. It didn’t work that way. But to hear you say it was… well it gave him pause.
“Okay. I am married. But I’m here with you right now, Y/n. Because I’d rather be here with you. Wish I could be here every night. And I would if I could.”
You nodded. You knew he’d prefer to fuck you rather than his wife. That part was understood. But he’d never actually choose you over her when it came down to it. “I know. I’m sorry for bringing it up. I just… I’m starting to…” You swallowed the words your heart wanted to reveal but you stopped, “Just want to see you more I think. Once a week or every other week isn’t good for me. Need you more. I think that’ll make me better. I’m sorry… I don’t know –“
Harry shushed you and stroked your back softly, “I want to see you more too, baby. Should we think of a way to make it twice or three times a week even? Will that make it better?”
You smiled and nodded, “Three times a week? Oh my god…” You kissed him and squealed at the idea of having him three times a week.
Harry laughed and nodded, “If it makes you happy. Didn’t know you needed more, honey. Didn’t want to make you sick of me.”
You laughed in return and shook your head, “I could never be sick of you, Harry. I’m…” You stopped yourself once again. The words on the tip of your tongue but that wouldn’t be fair. To you nor to him. “I’m happy you want that too.”
Harry’s fingers on your face felt soft and comforting, “Of course I want that. I want you happy. And that would make me happier too.”
You felt dizzy with love and excitement as you pasted your lips to his and began to rock your hips slowly again.
You knew you were selfish. Knew you were getting in too deep but you didn’t care. Maybe down the road one day it would hurt but for now, you would be happy with anything he gave you.
Suddenly Harry shifted and brought his arm to cradle you close as he laid you down flat on the couch, his thick cock still inside of you. But now he was hovering over you with a dark smile on his face, “I need to fuck you like you’re mine. Show you I mean it,” he said as he pulled your legs up, calves pressed over his shoulders, and began to roll his hips into you. The springs in the couch cushions danced under your back and creaked as he picked up the pace.
You coughed out a moan and squished your exposed tits together. You still had on your shirt, tugged up above your tits, and your underwear, and Harry still had his clothes on, while his shirt was unbuttoned and his pants were down past his bottom. You were both the picture of neediness, not even bothering to take the time to undress fully.
Harry held onto the back of your thighs as he plunged in and pulled back to his tip, before plowing his cock into the hilt again. Every time his hips met the back of your thighs the sticky sound of your arousal on his cock was unmistakable.
He swatted at your thigh when you began to slip from his hold, your leg wobbling free from his shoulder, “Stay put. Keep your legs up,” he grunted.
You gasped and nodded, “Yes, sir…”
Every dip of himself into you felt divine. His cock pushing into your insides and slipping into your guts repeatedly was noisy and delicious.
Harry moaned, unable to hold back how good it felt to be inside of you.
You looked up at him and saw how gone he was. His soft raspberry lips were parted and his eyes were dark as he gasped and panted. His thrusts were becoming harder and sloppier and he was breathing hard. You wanted his come.
“Need it, Harry. Give it to me…” you whispered as you brought a hand up to his jaw and he kept his eyes on you. He was shaking with desire you could feel it.
“Fuck, honey…” he groaned and clenched his jaw. He wanted to make you come first but his own emotions were getting him keyed up and he was already leaking a steady stream of pre-come into your pussy with each stroke.
He stopped his motions and sucked in a sharp breath as he lowered a hand to your clit, “Need you to come first, okay? Then I’m gonna fill your pussy like you need, baby.”
With his thumb on your clit you cooed in ecstasy. You had no idea what you were saying as you felt electricity begin to thrum through your body, winding its way around your ribs and down your spine, and into your tummy where sparks began to turn to fire as he began thrusting into you again.
“Want you to fuck your come deep into my womb. Breed my pussy, sir…” You moaned your words unable to stop it.
Harry grunted and he popped his eyes open to look down at you in shock. He knew you were on birth control and knew it was highly improbable but still, your words had him reeling and feeding his breeding kink, something that had been dormant for many years. You tended to awaken old feelings he once relished in.
And he wasn’t sure if he actually want to get you knocked up but just hearing that fed into something deep and instinctual that had been pushed down. Something primal. You had unleashed a tsunami of emotions and now this?
He began to hammer into you and your legs fell from his shoulders as he fucked himself down into you so hard you saw stars and you gurgled as you came around him, unable to voice your dirty thoughts as your pussy pulsed and squeezed around him.
“Fuck!” Harry barked loudly when he felt you come and he allowed himself to indulge in the fantasy that you’d tapped into, “Gonna knock you up. Fuck you til your all bred and full with my cock and my babies. That what you want? Stuffed full of me in every fucking way?”
Harry throbbed as he finally poured into you, pushing his cock into you as deep as he could manage, balls tucked up against your bum as he whimpered with each tight roll of his hips upward. Imagining his come seeping into you and having it stick. Getting you pregnant. Making you his forever.
He collapsed over you and slid his tongue into your mouth as you brought your arms around his back to keep him close.
Pure hedonistic, rapturous oblivion.
Your heart pounded as he kissed you and you felt him trembling in your arms just as you were in his.
You longed to speak the words you knew you felt but it wasn’t right. You’d want him to say it first. Wanted him to admit it. Wanted him to want you.
But Harry was feeling it all heavy and deeply just the same. His own longing to show you exactly what he felt and that even though he’d play off those words he spoke as he came inside of you, he meant it in a way. He’d love to see you pregnant with his babies. Have you as his own for good. Tell you what he felt deep down.
You smiled into the kiss and Harry pushed himself up to look down at you.
“Just what I needed, Harry. Always know how to make me feel so so good.” You pushed your fingers into his hair and gazed into his pretty eyes and watched as his grin widened.
“Mmm… Ditto. Need you more than just once a week, baby. I did mean that you know.”
You bit your lip and closed your eyes to let that idea sink in a bit. Harry grunted as he moved and you suddenly felt a pinch at the back of your thigh and you laughed, opening your eyes.
“Did you hear me?”
You nodded, “Yes, sir. Three times a week is what you said. That sounds like as close to perfection as I could ask for.”
Harry nudged his nose to yours and let out a soft breath, “Just want more of you, baby.”
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nectar-cellar · 1 year
Photo
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gardenia - a skin blend for TS3
I blended Ephemera’s Fresh skin on top of Noodlesims’ Apple Cider Vinegar V2 skin to give it some more detail and realism. This skin has softly defined facial features and a radiant, all-over glow.
At first it was just supposed to be a personal blend. I made a comparison post here back in January that I didn’t expect to get so many notes. I am finally getting around to uploading it.
I didn’t edit the base textures of the baby, toddler, and child stages but I think they still look cohesive enough with the edited teen, adult, and elder stages.
Details:
for all ages
default and non-default in the 3 EA tone ramps
1K face textures, 2K body textures (adult stages)
dark versions of all textures remade by me
anatomically correct adult textures
Download: simfileshare / mega
Updated November 7 2023 to give the male body better textures. 🤭
Updated June 18 2023 to include better baby, child and toddler textures. Just download and replace the packages if you already have them. Credit to Kurasoberina’s Primer skin for the baby textures, and Noodlesims and Ephemera for the child and toddler textures.
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dreamgrlarchive · 6 months
Text
A Prissy Girl’s Guide to Spring
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since i won’t be active on tumblr when next spring comes around, and i’ve done 3/4 seasons, i felt it was appropriate to go ahead and finish the series! if you find yourself inspired by my aesthetic/looks, you can absolutely use this as a guide for the next primavera season! ���
what’s the look this spring?
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my personal forecast for fashion spring ‘24 is “pink pilates bimbo” for sure. the renewal of spring is the time for a wellness reset. so i’ll be engaging in a physical activity but i’ll still be in barbie attire. pink athleisure pieces with super girly additions is my predicted aesthetic. 🎀
first and foremost…
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let’s talk about what spring symbolizes: renewal, cleansing, and restarting. that makes itself apparent in the seasons colors; the darkness of winter transitions to the soft pastels of spring.
preparation
start spring cleaning and prepping for seasonal allergies. stock up on in season fruits to keep in the house. take up outside activities like biking, outdoor yoga, and jogging. buy new fragrances. prep your skin and hair for the overtime humidity.
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essentials
pretty umbrella
allergy meds/quarterly check up
new water bottle/tumbler
fresh and clean candles + home fragrances
matcha and jade citrus tea
humidifier
neti pot
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clothes and accessories
pink athleisure. the lululemon strawberry milkshake jacket is a must! (or a dupe if you’re on budget)
foldover yoga pants
bedazzled pieces
pastel colored pieces
cute mini bags
victoria’s secret totes
tennis skirts
sheer + lacey tops
florals for spring? groundbreaking.
glitter + sequins
satin dresses
lace up sandals
hunter boots
coach baguettes
victoria’s secret co-ords, leggings and sweaters
ballet flats
ugg slippers + fluff sandals
cute gym shoes with pink/sparkly details
lace up pieces
baby blue is a staple color for spring
ruffle trims
warm materials + revealing cuts
“pastry princess” looks inspired by sweets and dessertz
cropped baby tees
stripper heelz
diamond jewelry
body jewelry + belly chainz
sparkly hair clips and headbands
butterfly aesthetics
ribbons and bows
ostrich feathers
sparkly keychains and wristlets
bodysuits + heels combo
statement jewelry like hello kitty, fruit or desserts
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beauty
pretty eye pigments (try mac, huda or iconic london)
vibrant pinks
warm bronzer
glitter gloss
translucent glosses in pink and orange
charlotte tilbury flawless filter
nars super orgasm blush
morphe 8r complexion palette
morphe nikita palette
natasha denona diamond & glow (favvv)
a bunch of clear glosses
fenty diamond bomb
fenty fussy gloss bomb
urban decay moondust shadows
cake beauty products
joseon spf 50
bright and/or floral fragrances (gucci flora gorgeous gardenia, jimmy choo illicit flower, carolina herrera good girl blush, juliette has a gun collection, yves saint laurent mon paris intensement, marc jacobs daisy fragrances)
victoria’s secret love spell + warm and cozy + la crème fragrances
sol de janeiro body mists
body shimmer (fenty beauty or bath and body works)
sweet body butters
sol de janeiro beija flor
exfoliating gloves
juicy sheet masks
cetaphil moisturizing cream
native candy shop collection
victoria’s secret tease + eau so sexy
5 blade razors and post shave oil
cute mirrors to keep in my purses
glitter nails
lavenders and pinks
protein treatments for moisture overload
627 notes · View notes
nincompoopydoo · 3 months
Text
CAUGHT IN A CROSSFIRE
BETRAYAL — ; PART 8 / 9
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PAIRING: Theseus Scamander x Female!Reader WORD COUNT: 2.7k SUMMARY: Awakening in an unfamiliar setting with restored memories, you encounter someone familiar. However, a lingering sense of betrayal clouds the reunion. Meanwhile, Theseus uncovers a concealed message in your letters, hinting at the potential discovery of your location. A/N: Hi everyone! I know I said I was going to put this on permanent hiatus until I was ready to pick it up again, but your girl finished her degree (kinda did badly, but glad it's over!), and now I have ample time to put all my energy of my one brain cell into finishing this series before I fall into depression again lol. Anyways, I really hope you enjoy this and thank you for all the love for this series and my baby, Theseus <3 I'm also sorry for ending it with another cliffhanger haha WARNINGS: Angst. Kinda scary shit (I literally scared myself while writing this lol) no beta we die like men. MASTERLIST ; MASTERPOST
Your environment is an enigma through the lenses of tunnel vision—hues of darkness circle in textures, contrasts of colour that dance along with your darting eyes. Your slow mind tries to keep up with your sight, unravelling the mysteries of your surroundings.
You first notice wood. Brown, battered, dim–a wooden beam trailing along the expanse of plastered white walls, grimed with dirt and age. Through blinkered sight, you catch a glimpse of light, dim orange hues casting fluttering shadows on the wall. You see it now, a flame dancing upon melting wax perched on a rustic candlestick. 
Flame. Fire. Heat.
You remember it all now.
Inferno swept through the foundations of your tiny household, leaving you and the fragility of your lungs gasping for air as you stumbled around for an exit. Yet, things were dense, billowing colours of deep grey and red, blinding your vision. You still feel the parchedness scratching down your throat. 
You remember how your hands clambered to grasp something before falling to your knees. You remember how your environment began to twist and spurn before your very eyes, vivid colours of the blaze swirling.
Then, everything went black.
…You…
You remember emerald cobblestones—a mesmerising golden statue.
You remember the warmth of the colour red – the trees in fall, the crackling of a fireplace, a desk with scattered papers across its surface. 
You remember.
Theseus.
Dim blue eyes. Sad. Freckled cheeks. Flushed. Brown hair curled and tumbled in autumnal hues. Trees. Barcham trees that line the sidewalk are carpeted in autumn gold. The tenement. His home. Warm, petite, charming. Gardenias. Tea. Your suitcase. Magic.
Little glimpses of returning memories flood your whirling mind like gushing water. It’s overwhelming. For weeks, you sat with a sense of longing, a missing piece, settled within the depths of your mind. And now, it all traces back to the odd familiarity of the man you met on the bus. Perhaps you recognised the glint in his eye when his eyes met yours or the patterned freckles along his cheeks, tinted in blotches of red from embarrassment.
You remember.
Your elbows immediately shift under you, perched as you rose midway, wondering yet blurry eyes moving along your surroundings. You’re in a room, and it’s not your own. Small, humble, solid walls encircle your surroundings. You have seen places like these during the war. You push yourself up, weight now on your splayed-out palms on what you realise to be a settee. It creaks at your very touch, and every little shift echoes throughout the room.
Its walls are far from pristine, with petite flowers scattered across the yellowed wallpaper with tears at its curling edges, perfectly still yet timeworn.
Your eyes trace the trails of sunlight that glow through the room, diluted by a translucent curtain that hangs before a window, shadows of a tree swaying in the gentle wind.
There’s a bed on the far left of the room, narrow and meticulously made with a quilt reminiscent of autumn hues. You can barely distinguish its patchwork from where you are, and it itches a part of your brain – a sense of familiarity.
Before you can make sense of that feeling, you are overcome with searing pain. Tearing through your head and coursing through the very confinements of your skull as if something was begging to break free from the back of your mind.
Eyes squeezed shut, you cannot help but bring your palms to the sides of your head, the heels of your hands harshly pinned to your temples, yet all you see are flashing lights dancing around in the darkness. 
Then, a flash. White. Blinding.
At that moment, you found yourself transported to an apartment. Yellow-bricked, warm honey-coloured hues of Autumn. Golden, falling leaves. Bright eyes, cheeks tinged with a touch of red. Theseus looks at you like you’re the sun. Like you hold a weight of significance, a tapestry to his existence.
“I know I’ve said this a thousand time before, but I’m sorry. Truly. You don’t deserve to be involved in this.”
You feel yourself smile; tears threaten to slip from your saddened eyes. 
“I would usually say it’s alright, but I don’t think I can say it for everything that has happened. But, thank you.” 
A hand reaches for his, gentle and soft to the touch. You feel his fingers twitch under your hold.
“Truly.”
Theseus looks at you like you’re the sun.
Theseus looks at you…
Theseus…
Suddenly, you find yourself in a narrow bus. You see him blinking wide-eyed at you, his expression paled. You had said – no, asked something. 
“No. I don’t think we do.”
You see it, the pain in his eyes, the sadness in his tone. It clenches your heart, but you don’t know why.
That was the first time he had lied to you.
You hear your name.
Distant but frantic. It repeats again and again and again.
A grip on the curve of your shoulders, and you find yourself back in the narrow, unknown room you awoke in moments ago.
But then you see his eyes, his tousled hair. It’s him who calls you.
“Theseus?” you breathed, disbelief flickering in your wide eyes. Without a second thought, your hands reach out to grasp his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his dress shirt as if to ground yourself in the reality of his presence. A counterpoint to the disarray within your mind.  
But as Theseus meets your gaze, a furrow forms on his brow, and a shadow eclipses the warmth in his eyes. The frown, subtle yet profound, settles an uneasiness in you. Your grip weakens.
“We need to go. Now.” His tone is cut-throat, laden with urgency, and you cannot help but jolt at his words. You find your fingers slowly releasing their hold as the weight of his statement settles in the room.
He pulls away and reaches for your elbow, swift and deliberately, that reflects the gravity of the situation. His touch is so firm that it prompts you to stand. Questions hang heavy in the air, but you know you’re in some kind of trouble. Yet, you catch your eyes lingering on the dark look in his own, and you can't help but think he's changed since you last saw him. Since you last remembered him.
Something feels…wrong, but you don’t give yourself a chance to even think about it before you’re being led out the door. 
The narrow corridor stretches ahead, dimly lit, bricked walls with a single lamp casting a glow across the space, revealing its worn walls and your flickering shadows. The air is cool, carrying a faint scent of dampness that permeates the space. All you hear is footsteps reverberating along the narrow passage, echoing against the walls. You realise you are underground and feel your stomach lurch at that thought, making your skin crawl.
“Come on.” Theseus pulls you along, the grip on your elbow never weakening. You can feel the tension emanating from him, the stiffness in his movements, the rigidity of his jaw.
You find yourself staring at the back of Theseus' head, studying how the dim light catches on his hair. He seems so different.
“Where are we going?” You finally ask.
He doesn’t respond.
Theseus continues to pull you down the corridor, and you take the time to scan your surroundings despite the quickened pace. You see the occasional rusty pipes that snake along the ceiling, contributing to a low mechanical hum and the flickering of overhead lights that seem to swing periodically at a light rumble that makes the ground shake for a second or two.
Then, he eventually comes to an abrupt halt, revealing a dead end. Your feet stagger back, trying to stop yourself from bumping into him. You see Theseus' brows furrowed in thought, eyes darting between the walls, searching. His fingers trace the rugged surface and abruptly pause as you catch sight of a carving on a specific brick, nearly invisible.
Theseus taps it, and a warm glow emanates from the wall. The carving becomes illuminated, and the wall seems to dissolve into seemingly ethereal dust. It shines golden under the dim buzzing lights. What once was a wall reveals an entrance to an alleyway; it greets you with a rush of cool air and the sounds of the city.
You step through the entrance after Theseus as he beckons for you to follow hurriedly. Yet, your focus is elsewhere as you close in on the intricate symbol carved into the brick. As you inch nearer, the features sharpen, and a sudden recognition sparks within you.
It's a Gardenia, delicately depicted.
Gardenias always had a particular significance in your life, and it’s all because of your mother. That same Gardenia on your mother’s necklace is an heirloom that spanned many generations. It was important and personal to her, and you don’t know how or why it is doing here.
Flowers for your mother – a bouquet of Gardenias.
The bigger picture materialises as if the puzzle pieces are beginning to click.
Your place in the unfolding mess remains unclear, but it hints that you've anticipated the arrival of this revelation for a long time.
Theseus is calling for you, a slight note of panic in his voice, but you ignore his calls, remaining rooted in place. As you watch the glow that details the symbol disappear, you wonder if Theseus knows everything, even though you swore you never told a soul.
Unless…
You still don’t know how you got your memories back.
As you finally turn to Theseus, there’s a gripping sense of uncertainty. His approach, marked by a frustrated expression, erodes the strong familiarity you once held for this man, a trust built in such a short time. With each step towards you, that trust begins to dissipate.
That vulnerability quickly turns to anger – betrayal.
“What the hell is happening, Theseus?” you question fiercely, pressing him for an explanation. 
Again, Theseus dismisses your insistence and attempts to reach for your arm, but you instinctively step back, maintaining a wary distance. 
“Answer me.” you insist, voice growing louder, eyes boring into his.
His gaze lingers on your face, and you watch his expression harden, jaw tense.
“Look, you’re in deep trouble right now and it’s best we leave right now he’ll come looking for you.”
He.
Not they. Not she.
Not The Restoration Movement. Not Morrigan.
Something is very wrong.
And his eyes. You can’t quite place it, but something about the look in his eyes has shifted. They look so different.
In moments like these, you aren’t sure what to do, but you know to trust your gut. Your mind races at the possibilities of how this could all end, and the only thing you can think is to run.
And so, you run.
Theseus believes he has only survived through self-deceit – the deception of his ability to stay grounded and keep his emotions at bay. His heart was never to be trusted, never to give in or give up. Yet, how does one cope when a situation relies on promised perseverance but is tangled amid his emotions he suddenly lacks control of in your presence?
Theseus knows there was something between the two of you, but he will never admit it despite his now aching heart caused by your sudden disappearance, even though you might as well be considered dead to the muggle world. The thought of your death pulls his thoughts to the night he first met you, how an unforgivable curse nearly struck you, how you looked at him, knowing you couldn’t have survived if he hadn’t been there in time. 
Merlin, he hopes you aren’t dead.
No, you’re not. He knows it. You’re relentless. So relentless that death would never want to claim you without a fight. So relentless that you manage to squeeze yourself into his thoughts at every waking hour. Every fibre in him wishes he hadn’t let you slip away that day, wishing he hadn’t abandoned you, betrayed your trust.
He wishes you hadn’t agreed to leave.
To leave him.
Now all alone.
Alone.
Theseus was never certain of his feelings for you when you were ambling within the expanse of the four walls he calls home. Whether affections were simply out of pity or was it his admiration for your entire being, your perfections, blemishes, and everything in between. Yet, at this very moment, he couldn’t be more unequivocally sure that his affections are true because presently, you have consumed all his waking days and nights, leaving a hollowed space perhaps once filled by your presence. The constant worry in his brow made his eyes tired but sleepless due to his fear of the worst for you.
Dread fills his senses, and tears threaten to seep through the cracks of a carefully sculpted, hard-headed man he had spent years practising, performing as a so-called war hero. Theseus never let himself cry, especially over you, not even when you parted with a touch to his cheek. Not even when he set his eyes on you again and you were completely unaware of him. 
Yet, it’s the possibility he has lost you forever that he’ll never see you again. Never.
Theseus breathes a shaky breath, fingers clamped in his trembling hand as he tries to remember what he’s been told to do. To find you. To stop Morrigan. To stop whatever mess he has landed you in.
No, you’re not. You’re not dead. He reminds himself again.
The sun had set moments ago, darkness creeping between the cracks of light, shimmering from the candle alight by his tableside and the flames of the fireplace. Its crackling grounds his very notion of stirring into panic. Theseus finds himself tucked in the same corner of his living room, and his couch now houses a collection of books and particular pieces of evidence of your whereabouts.
He merely fears this has everything to do with Morrigan, the Restoration Movement, your supposed living brother and perhaps your mother – also dead. Theseus gains a strong premonition, a gut feeling that your disappearance is all a part of a larger plan than he had initially expected. Your disappearance may have caused a flurry of commotion amongst the Aurors. Still, the ministry has its sights on the movement rather than your supposed connection as more than just your brother, which Theseus feels strongly about. Yet, with Travers breathing down his neck to arrest Morrigan and her acolytes, Theseus needs solid evidence rather than vague instances and misdirected clues that all seem to lead to spiralling trails.
Frankly, his career is at stake, but he couldn’t care less.
He just wants to see you again.
Theseus heaves, fingers carding through his deep brown locks when his eye catches sight of the only two letters that he found to be related to you in one way or another. He finds himself drawn to it, finding the letter from your brother within his grasp for what seems like the millionth time this month. The same words, again and again, were already engraved in his mind.
When he shifts his elbow, the letter catches the candlelight from behind, and something immediately seizes his attention. Something he hadn’t recognised before now.
Inscribed in the very material of the parchment – the symbol of a Gardenia, its intricate lines glowing against the candlelight, seemingly burning. Theseus props up in his seat, back straightened, shoulders tensed, and eyes wide.
Bloody hell…
He scrambles for the other letter, holding it up against the light, eyes settling on the darkened edges of the page only to discover the very same symbol.
A Gardenia.
How could he have been so blind?
It must have been instinct when he decided that the two letters were puzzle pieces meant to be joined. Theseus would try anything at this point.
Seemingly, luck was finally on his side when he pressed the letters together, above one another – new words formed before his eyes, written with burning lines, every curve of each letter appeared between the gaps of the original text to only form a new paragraph.
Sister,
If you're reading this, I'm likely gone, and you're in trouble. Morrigan and The Restoration Movement hide a darker truth. Their agenda involves our mother and a woman named Miriam Monet. I'm unsure of the details, but Miriam plays a crucial role. Stay safe.
As his eyes shift down the page, his heart nearly stops when his name comes into view.
To Theseus,
If you see this, my sister is in danger. You know more than you think.
TAGLIST (tagging everyone who commented in my last post just because it's been awhile <3):
@crumpets-are-better-with-jam
@inlovewithfictionalcharacters27
@aterriblelangblr
@yournewmommy
@mariaelizabeth21-blog1
@never-let-them-change-your-self
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cryptidcorners · 5 months
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Gardenia - Josh Futturman x M!Reader
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Description: Being Josh's childhood friend, you never would have expected to see him appear by your doorstep after a month of radio silence. Though, in this particular visit, he's desperate to air out his true feelings before traveling through time. Unknowing if he'll ever come back to see you again.
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Media: Future Man!Show
Character: Josh Futturman
Tags: Friends to Lovers, Established Relationship, Childhood Friends, Catching Up, Confessions, Light Angst to Fluff, Kissing, Romantic, Comfort, Sweet Stuff
Warnings: Arguing (+ about Josh ghosting reader), Foul Language, Mental Breakdown/Depression Mentions
read my TOS + Josh Futturman Masterlist
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Dread twisted in your stomach like rusted wire, and your constant stirring on your mattress was robbing you of any justice of getting any variant of rest. Your eyes grew heavy, dangerously puffy from expelling your grief several dark hours ago. Though, it had only felt like seconds to you. Your thoughts raced like a wild flock of puzzled birds, breath hitching along with it as you slowly fell into decay.
Your gaze was fixed to your glowing digital screen, eyes fixed on your messages with your old friend, Josh Futturman. It had been weeks of endless radio silence, along with your desperate texts. You were more worried than upset if anything. You went to his house to drop off a game you had finished, but his parents said he wasn't there. Along with all the other days you had made excuses to stand at his doorstep.
His parents weren't liars, and they wouldn't deny you. They knew Josh and you were close. You even remembered Diane saying you were helping him in ways they had struggled to for years. Your lip quivered, so why would he leave?
You two only argued once during a blue moon, you shared so much in common and you swore every second was sincere with him. It had always been him, and it had always been you. Ever since you were kids you were inseparable, to the point others figured you were his boyfriend due to how close you were. It was ridiculous.
Yet, here you were, hunched over and dry with internal pain, thoughts still clinging onto the thought of Josh. You were starved to see him again. He understood everything about you, even with the design of your mind being incredibly complicated. Had you done something wrong? Had you offended him? Had he grown tired of you? Did he even like you?
Then, you heard your doorbell. The familiar tune caught you off guard, but it had made you fix up your wrecked expression promptly and sluggishly fix your clothes. You raced downstairs while catching your breath. You were too out of it to care who it was, but you weren't stupid enough to open it at random. You rested your forehead against the door, "Who is it?" you asked weakly.
"Josh," a familiar voice answered. Muffled, and seemingly distressed as well. You jolted up and needily worked your hands to unlock the door. Your face was brimmed with shock. It was him, but covered in bruises and sweat. His curls were lazy and messy, his eyes were wide and his chest was rising and falling rapidly. Still, his gentle tone made you weak, relieved. But also incredibly angry. "Hey." He said, "Long time no see?"
You struggled to collect your thoughts. "Yeah." Your eyes narrowed, "Do you want to come inside?"
"Please." Josh stated. You didn't say anything, and gestured for him to walk toward. As soon as you shut the door, he immediately opened his mouth and began rambling, "Look, I'm—, I'm so sorry I didn't talk to you." His eyes met yours, "Trust me, I didn't mean to leave you for so long." Josh stammered, "I was just, so wrapped up in something. And, I wanted to talk to you, but I couldn't, please, I didn't–"
You sucked your teeth, "Where were you Josh?"
"I–" his hands landed heavily at his sides, his face slightly appalled at himself. As if he were a dumbfounded audience. "I can't tell you."
"Why not?" You grew agitated, spilling out your gallons of binded frustration. "Why did you ghost me for over a month? Where . . . Where were you?" You breathed heavily, "I thought you hated me, or something terrible happened to you. God, your parents didn't even know where you were!"
Josh choked out a cry, "You don't understand. I didn't want to hurt you,"
"But you did!" You interrupted. "Josh, why did you leave? What happened?"
"I can't fucking tell you!" Josh shouted. "You wouldn't understand. It's too complicated!" You grabbed him by the shoulder before he could turn around, "No, I don't think you understand. How could you just go with no explanation? You look terrible. What are you running away from?"
"I'm sorry, I can't tell you." Josh winced, "I'm sorry, okay? Please, I had no choice. I didn't mean to leave you. I didn't do it because I hated you or anything like that, okay?" His breaths were unraveling, "Do you know how much I care about you? You know me. You're my best friend," a low whimper escaped your lips as you stated at him. The tension shifted, and you both gazed at each other longingly. "I love you."
"Josh." You released your grip. "Please, I, don't have much time. I love you, so much. I would never, ever, hurt you." His hands found your face, "I need you to know this." Something grew in your chest, and you brought your head forward. "I love you too."
You don't know who fell first, but you felt relieved once Josh kissed you. His hands scavenged across your back, and you dug your fingers into his hair. He hummed, body relaxing at the feel of you. Once his palm found its way under your shirt, you both collapsed onto your couch.
You were both crosslegged and smothered in each other, skin blazing as your love untangled. His hands found your sides and you were eagerly grabbing his collar to pull him closer. You swear you could see stars once he pulled away, trying to catch his breath. Josh held you close, face still red from the passion you had inflicted just a few seconds ago.
"Hey, I'm sorry." You whispered.
"For what?"
"For getting so angry." You frowned, "I shouldn't have gotten so pissed at something personal happening to you."
Josh cupped your face. You swore you could drown in his eyes, "Don't say that. You deserve to be mad at me, I left you. And it's okay, just . . . stay here with me." You cuddled up next to him with a sleepy exhale, smiling softly. "Stay."
Josh whispered, "I promise I'll make it up to you. In any way I can,"
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a-hermit-pining · 3 days
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Geto as a House Husband
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Genre: Fluff Pairing: House husband Geto x Reader AN: I love him. He's so damn pretty. Who should I write next?
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Have you seen him? He is mother material. Born to cook forced to slay. Let's say in a different world, you whisk this beautiful man into the domestic bliss of marriage.
Massive cottage core vibes with this one. He is very taken by the idea of not being regarded as a killing machine. Immediately busies himself with the task of decorating your shared home.
Just take this man away. Elope to mountains and save him (hermit begs you).
Wedding planning is another demon. He debates every single decision. Asking you about your preference between white gardenias or white peonies. (You love him and he is too sweet for you to say out loud that you for the end of the world cannot distinguish the flowers)
He creates elaborate flowcharts to compare the pros and cons of different cake flavors, or insists on stress-testing the honeymoon resort's structural integrity with a cursed technique (much to the staff's bewilderment).
Let's not even get into Gojo's best man speech. No one really recovered from that.
DIY projects are his shit. Renovating a raggedy old dresser into a vintage masterpiece is where his magic lies. Let this man cook.
Your home with him is a a whimsical blend of vintage finds and hand-stitched throw pillows adorned with subtle wards against lingering curses. Even the strategically placed spider plants weren't just decorative – they doubled as a natural barrier against negative energy (a discovery that both surprised and amused you).
His transition into a normal 'monkey' life was endearingly awkward, like the time he spent hours meticulously decoupaging a floral pattern onto a chair, muttering about the inefficiency of glue compared to a simple binding spell.
And the day Suguru is introduced to the world of crocheting, your world flips on its axis. The pure look of joy on his face unravels the seams of your heart as he presents you with the mood changing octopus on your birthday.
Weekends with him are craft days. With a classic rom-com in the background as he sits next to you, his hands busy in the dance of needles and yarn. Better even your fingers run through his hair, braiding his hair only to wake up to your husband with perfect mermaid waves next day.
You both are the kind of sickly sweet couple that cause Shoko to gag in cringe during holiday gatherings.
Your husband glows with the simplicity of life. His hands busy themselves with crafts, chores, gardening, never a moment of rest even in the hull of domesticity.
He is your Disney princess that rushes out to refill the bird feeder with the first rays of Sun, hums pleasantly at the sight of a perfectly baked batch of cookies, or paints the most delightful sceneries on your ceilings.
Geto Suguru was made to create. He loves the fresh scent of sheets, experimenting with new flavors of tea, or going down the path of BookTok with Faerie romances much to your astonishment.
It isn't long before, you both end up adopting teeny tiny twins from the local orphanage. Suguru's darling girls he spends his life nurturing.
He took to fatherhood with the same surprising zeal he brought to everything else. His days were filled with braiding tiny pigtails, reading bedtime stories with dramatic voice inflections (complete with a surprisingly convincing rendition of a grumpy troll), and building elaborate pillow forts that rivaled any jujutsu barrier.
And on nights when dreams of a different reality kept him away, you held his hand in yours. Calling your girls for a family sleepover in the living room. That was all it took to whisk the sadness away from your beloved's eyes.
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mlp-pic-a-day · 4 days
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Gardenia Glow
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seoulcheonsa · 3 months
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lsm x fem!reader
9:54 PM
There was a familiar glint in his eyes as the corners of his lips curled upwards. As the night grew deeper, so did her sleep. Her soft breaths hit his face, tickling his cheeks while his thoughts travelled further in his daydream.
In his mind’s eye, warm lights enveloped the venue, reflecting off the glass walls of the greenhouse. White and lilac wisterias draped on an arch where he stood. Smiling faces beamed back at him, mirroring his excitement. The quartet started playing, silencing the quiet chatter, and prompting all heads to turn the entrance.
The doors slowly opened, revealing a woman, the train of her dress pooled around her. In her hands, a bouquet cascading with autumn clematis and gardenias, hiding her trembling hands and clammy palms.  Seokmin’s smile immediately grew bigger, and tears brimmed his eyes as he looked at the woman in pure awe. She smiled an even bigger smile at him, with eyes as if to say, “I love you.”
She started walking down the aisle, her eyes never leaving his as the world around them faded and it was just the two lovers. Their gazes spoke of endless reassurance and anticipation for the future that they were about to write. With every step she took, her racing heart slowed to the beat of the song. The promise behind Seokmin’s smile washed a calm over her, putting her mind at ease.
They stood before each other. The tears glistening in his eyes betrayed him as they started to flow freely. To him, she glowed even brighter than the lights that twinkled behind her.
“Hi,” she uttered shyly with misty eyes, taking his fingers in her hand. He swiped away his tears with his free hand and fully took her hand in his, squeezing it thrice.
“Hey, baby”
“Nice weather we’re having, no?”
He snickered at her, knowing this was her nerves talking. Nodding, he humored her and gestured for her to step closer to him knowing that the ceremony was about to start.
“When I met you, I didn’t know I would love you in ways I never knew I could. You came into my life when I didn’t think I needed anyone. I really thought I was better off alone, you know?” he chuckled at the thought. Now, he refuses to let his day start and end without her, whether it be a full morning routine or a simple text when they’re apart. Before her, he barely had time for any relationship that required more than a few days of his time. Now, he insists on driving her everywhere, even if he has to wake up before the sun even rises or stay up late into the night. Not that he won’t ever allow her to nor trust her, but he wanted to do even the smallest things for her so that even then, she’d feel how much he loves her.
“You are the completion of all the promises of love in my life. Seok, you have held my hand through all the crazy adventures I dragged you to, and not once did your smile fail. Everyday, you make it so easy to choose to love you and choose a future with you,” tears fell down her cheeks as she spoke. To her, it was like finally, the puzzle pieces had fallen into place. With him, everything felt right, because he made sure it was all right. They worked with a harmony that fit together like cogs in a clock. Like in a duet, they adjusted to each other’s tune and pace to make sure that no one was lagging. Seokmin was like that, sometimes forgetting himself. So, she always made sure to remind him to give himself credit and celebrate even the smallest victories with him.
Slowly, her eyes fluttered open where she found Seokmin staring at her, lost in thought. She gingerly ran her thumb across his cheek to take him out of his reverie, a smile gracing her lips as he blinked. He leaned up to press a kiss on her forehead while rubbing circles into her back.
“Sleep well?” he pulled her closer to him, going almost cross-eyed with how close they are. She hummed in response and kissed his nose, earning her a chuckle.
After another quick kiss, he sat up and took her with him, pulling her out of their room and stepping out onto the balcony. Outside, the night swallowed the streets, wailing sirens and distant horn of the train occupied the air. There was a smell of smoke floating around them, probably from a fire nearby. He pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her waist and resting his head atop hers.
“In another universe, do you think we’d still be like this?”
“I’d find you in any universe. I’ll put up missing person posters of you if I have to,” she declared, earning her laughter that she felt vibrating from his chest on her back.
“In this universe, no matter what happens, I know it’s us and I know that it’s you.”
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hi! hello! i wrote this with the prompts "harmony" in mind as well as Same 3x. i cried in the middle tbh because i decided to listen to Imperfect Love. those two songs are soooo perfect for weddings idk i'm soft. anyw! this isn't proof read and i wrote this as a way to get me out of a writing slump, i hope it's not too bad!
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More Imaginary Captain Marvel AU bits
Billy jumps off the Magic Train (the title in proper caps, because little Billy knew important things, wonderful things were always thought of as such), barely wobbling as he made it over the large gap between the gleaming chrome beast and the dirty, crumbling platform of the station.
The train hisses, sputtering steam that seemed to tousle Billy's hair, making the boy giggle. (In truth, the Train looked like a modern thing and hence should have no steam, but really, who was there to judge aside from a delighted little boy what a Magic Train desired to do?)
Billy turns on heel, the warm, bright light that had since made its home in his chest smoothening the movement, almost-there warm, phantom hands bracing at his shoulders before letting go. Billy grins even wider before waving the Train off to wherever it was that Magic Trains went when they weren't ferrying little boys to and fro from Wizards to the Mundane World.
"Bye! Bye-bye! Thank you for carrying me Mr. Train!" He shouts and the train whistles loudly in farewell (even despite it having no whistle), and races off, sparks of all colours of the rainbow shooting off the rails, leaving the scent of ozone and the ground right after rainfall.
Billy keeps waving until the train is out of sight, then leaves the platform himself, his tiny body shooting off like an arrow, years of familiarity guiding his steps.
The low light sifting through the holes in the roof after the Train had gone had let Billy know all he needed to. It was getting dark, and even little boys who'd been granted an Amazing Thing should know better than to be out in the open after dark.
He makes to turn a corner, (that street is always dark, the streetlights near it never having been fixed, but Billy knows it, so he's not that scared of it-), but hears his Papa's voice whisper:
'Not that way today, Champ.'
And Billy listens, hand fisting over his heart and the pulsing, warm glow that shone ever brighter.
His Papa nudges him a little more as he goes and he makes it home in good time, and even better yet, had the wonderful fortune of passing by a generous baker, who, having not sold a few baked odds and ends left at the end of the day and who had been surprisingly full himself, had taken one look at little Billy crossing the street and happily gifted them to him instead. (Somewhere in the back of his mind, the scent of bread intertwines itself with other comforting smelling things like Ms. Polly's gardenia perfume, the down of feather boas, inks and papers and burning sands-)
Billy, having arrived, carefully unlocks the door to his apartment, shoving hard to make sure it is in place and locked before he putters over to the corner of the tiny room that served as the kitchen.
His Mama is the one that comes out to help this time. He can't hear her, but he can feel her warm prescence at his back, her arms over his as she plates his bread all pretty and radiates such a feeling of pride at him for managing to keep everything so clean despite his circumstances that Billy's face is nearly all the way pink, flushed with a mixture of embarrassment and pride. (Other bits and pieces cheer him on too, someone laughing gaily and complementing his fine manners, another brief sensation of a person petting his head for a job well done and-)
Billy washes up, then sits at the table with the lone chair he'd salvaged and fixed from the building one over's trash, with mismatched legs and lets himself revel in the warm feeling, like hugs inside and out as he eats, his mind and body filling with something even more wonderful than food.
He knows, kind of, that these aren't really people, aren't really his parents, but at the same time they aren't not people and his parents. Or so Billy understood from what the agitated Wizard had tried to tell him.
Billy knows now that when the Wizard had tried to give him Powers, he'd meant for him to be a Hero, a Protector of Magic and its Balance and of the Rock of Eternity itself. He'd seen the comic peeking out of Billy's bag and been confident in how the Powers of Shazam would take shape in the little boy. Unfortunately, the comic had been more a gift and Billy's idea of heroes, nebulous as it was, came from his father's words about kindness and goodness and from the dozens of bits of kindness offered to him from people around him that had shaped him and let him live till today. Billy idolized heroes like Superman and Batman and Wonder Woman, but in his heart of hearts, heroes had meant something entirely different.
So when Billy had said Shazam's name...it hadn't been Billy, stylized as a Hero version of himself that had emerged, but a Hero born of all the other people, experiences and kindness he had ever been exposed to. Captain Marvel was someone wholly Billy and yet not. Built from his memories, from his experiences and Heart, based off his form yes, but also from the amalgamation of the other people who Billy had thought of as true heroes.
On the one hand, Tawky Tawny, who had spawned in at the Wizard's palpable confusion and almost-distress, had commented that Billy would be far safer with the Captain quite far removed from who Billy truly was, but was also shot down by the Wizard's own assertation that with Him not being entirely based on Billy's good heart as Shazam had picked, meant that he could be unpredictable, that he might turn as-
Well, Billy hadn't quite heard the last bit as the Wizard disappeared in a shower of sparks, leaving his funny robes and hat behind. Tawky had looked terrible sad for a single, deep moment, before covering it up and ushering Billy away back to the train.
"What's done is done." he had said and mentioned that in place of the Wizard, Tawny would help watch over Billy and the strange Captain that had been borne from him.
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pakhnokh · 1 year
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What's gentians mean?
It's a type of flower according to MDZS novel, it's the flowers that bloom where the house that used to belong to Lan Wangji's mother stands. From the novel: "It was a secluded little cottage within some hidden corner of the Cloud Recesses. The Lan Sect’s residence was inside of the mountains. In its bounds, pines grew endlessly. Most of the plants were trees and grasses. It wasn’t that there were no flowers, but that the flowers were mostly pure, elegant varieties like magnolia, gardenia, and white chrysanthemum, and even then only as rare, decorative glimpses. Yet, the area before this house was filled with purple gentians. The buds were small while the color was brilliant, gaining the love of whoever passed. Under the light, it seemed to glow softly, as beautiful as a dream, an illusion." In "House of Gentians", Wei Wuxian agreed to marry Lan Wangji, and Lan Wangji does exactly what he wanted to do, "hide him and shelter him", by letting him live in the house that belonged to his mother. By doing this he does what his father did to his mother, by letting her live in that house and never go out - she committed a crime just like WWX but he was able to grant her life but take away her freedom.
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