Original Fic - Tree Smut, 1/1
Summary: pwp
Pairing: tree/park bench
Rating: There are no recognizable genitalia, yet I hesitate to say PG-15
Warnings: smut involving a tree and a park bench
Author's Notes: I was trying to kill my writer's block and went wandering through Fanficrants. Then I felt reckless and wrote this. Prompted by fanficrants, not to be taken seriously.
Tree Smut
She had stood there for what seemed like forever, watching as the park around her cycled through its seasons. She was not old for a tree, but she had seen much, and her graceful limbs bore the scars of children's feet and winters' storms. But her bark was still thick and strong, and the crown of her leaves burst bright and new in the spring, sprawled over her branches in a lush carpet to tease the wind and enjoy the sun's gaze.
He was young. She had seen him planted late in the fall, but she had been busy shedding the last of the fall's colours in preparation for sleep, and his arrival had barely registered for her. Now, though, she let the wind brush her buds against him, curious.
Dark, but cold, was her first impression. Still in shock over the winter's indignities, and now feeling naked and exposed before the sun. Nervous about the coming summer, which seemed to her to be silly of him -- dusty running shoes and chipped paint were inevitabilities. That was metal for you, though. Cast in one shape all the time, never learning to bend.
Forward, though, she noted, as the bench captured her the tip of her branch. He squeezed the bud between two slats, warming with the morning sun, and she felt her sap stir. It was springtime. The soft blossoms decorating her bark were tender and needy, as new as he, and eager to feel the brush of anything at all. And he was so close, so eager for every scrape of wood.
She couldn't resist. First one branch, then another, rubbing back and forth against his back. He gloried in it, caught and teased at her, breaking open bud after bud to caress the delicate petals within. Before long she had lost all track of time, forgotten that there were children about and other trees to greet and bees eager to reforge alliances. There was nothing but the powder she left on him and the pleasure of his sturdiness, an endless springtime dalliance she could willingly forget was doomed to end in maple keys.