#and be fucking strategic with your time and energy

[lamplightjuniper]

hmm not really sure how calling out 84 tumblrinas who are specifically Not Voting is more useful than idk contacting 85 apathetic real-world people and trying to get them to vote instead.

it’s SIGNIFICANTLY easier to convince people to move from the middle or neutrality towards your opinion compared to people who already have strong opinions.

it looks like this:

neutral -> mild conviction -> your opinion

versus

strongly held conviction -> weakly held conviction -> neutral -> mild conviction -> your opinion

and it requires a LOT of energy to get from every single step to the next. Swaying someone once they’ve made up their mind is difficult under ideal circumstances.

there are so many apathetic and non-voters who can be reached with much less effort than people who are adamantly not voting.

If you are in the US and really care about the presidential or any elections, take a quick pause from posting on tumblr and google:

<county name> phone bank democratic party

(or <state name> if you are in a rural or very red area)

and link up with people who are actually trying to mobilize potential voters. posting can be useful but it isn’t boots on the ground.

And phone banking can be done from home in a lot of cases, you don’t physically need to knock on doors (although if you can that also has an impact) but you need to put your energy where it actually matters if you want people to vote.

[captainfern]

Lemme tell you something pookie, pregnancy sex with ANY of the boys would be amazing? But Price? Possessive, pregnancy sex with Price? It would be TOP TIER

That man would 100% have a hand over his darling’s belly while he whispers praises into their ear, telling them how beautiful they look with their (his) kids.

And when the baby isn’t coming out around the 40 week mark? Well maybe Price read something about sex maybe inducing birth and its worth a shot.

Sorry if this is too horny and not your cup of tea. Love your work pookie

In Utero pt.2

Captain John Price x fem!reader

[“In Utero” Album by Nirvana]

[18+]

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• summary - you're pregnant and overdue. price's heard that sex can help get things moving lol • rating - 18+ • wordcount - 1k • warnings - fem!reader, unprotected piv, pregnancy, praise, soft and gentle but also price has a fat breeding kink so idk, use of mama while he fuckin you lmao, strong language

super short sorry ! i'm in a bit of a writing slump :( enjoy anyway x

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You were still pregnant. Still.

Just past the 40 week mark, and baby was not in any mood to enter the world. You were annoyed by this stage, feeling hot and sweaty and constantly overstimulated by just standing too long. You'd researched all kinds of ways to induce labour naturally, but nothing seemed to be working.

But there was one more thing you hadn't tried. You'd put it off initially, not overly intent for that to be the first strategic move. But your husband was more than happy to show you that it could work.

He promised to be gentle, to take care of you. You believed him because, come on, it's John we're talking about– when has he ever not taken care of you?

John lay against your shared bed, a couple of pillows stacked beneath his head and shoulders so he could get a good look at you at all times. You straddled him, his large hands squeezing the fat of your thighs, trailing up to grip your hips gently.

He moved you back and forth, up and down in a gentle pattern that had you dropping your head back in pleasure. The pleasure was a simmering glow in the base of your tummy that made you feel all the more drowsy and warm.

The curve of your pregnant belly was on full display for John as you rode him, and he moved one hand to place it across your tummy. You whimpered at John's warmth, surrounding your body as he helped you move up and down his cock. The wet heat of your cunt sucked him in, leaving him a grunting mess laying against the bed.

"Aren't you just so fucking gorgeous, hm?" He voiced, hoarse with need. One strong hand continued to guide you against his length, throbbing inside you as your slick walls fluttered around him. He released a hushed groan, his mouth dropping open slightly. "Absolutely fucking stunning, sweetheart."

The hand on your belly smoothed over the visible stretch marks, feeling the textures as they striped down your skin. You whimpered out again, head falling forward this time, your body heating up. You watched with hooded eyes as John looked you up and down, his eyes lingering the longest on your tummy. He ran his thumb down the linea nigra; the darkened line down the centre of your stomach.

"Such a beautiful woman, all round with my baby," he muttered, still helping you ride him with just one hand splayed across your hip. "N' you're gonna be such a good mama, aren't you, sweetheart?"

You didn't know if you had the energy to respond. Your orgasm was building like a ball of warmth within you, and your muscles were beginning to tire, the weight of your belly diminishing your stamina.

"John..." You whined, eyelids fluttering again.

He hummed lowly, still stroking his fingers down the marks on your tummy. "You made this, baby. We made this. M' so proud of you, you know. So fucking proud of my sweet girl."

You moaned breathlessly, the weight of his cock inside you making your legs shake against the bed, thighs quivering beneath his hold. You moaned again when he quickened his thrusts– still gentle, but hitting deeper inside you, just deep enough that your orgasm began building faster.

"Oh, fuck, John, please," you begged, a whine and a whimper rolled into one. Your arms had been resting on his legs, fingers brushing the coarse hair, but you moved them to his stomach and chest, bending more over his body as yours began to shake. "M'gonna— fuck, m’ so close..."

He smiled up at you, finally moving his hand from your tummy and grasping both of your hips. He took most of the responsibility off you– lifting and dragging your plush body onto his cock, revelling in the feeling of your tight, wet pussy sucking him in, further and further. He moaned at the thoughts in his head, his cock twitching inside you. You looked so fucking pretty, all fat with his kid.

"Come on, baby. You can come, yeah?" He whispered, jerking his hips to meet the movement of you. "You wanna come?"

You moaned at him, the end of it morphing into a loud exhale as you shuddered, your clit throbbing and a thin layer of sweat covering your exposed skin. "John..."

"I know, I know," John cooed, bouncing you gently on his cock, his own orgasm fast approaching as your continued to spasm around him, all warm and wet and so fucking pretty. "Come 'round my cock, mama, you can do it. Want this pretty pussy squeezin' 'round my cock."

You came with a series of breathless whimpers falling past your lips. Your cunt squeezed his cock, just like he said, your release dripping down the sides of his length and onto his lap. You continued to whimper quietly through the ripples of your orgasm as he continued grinding into you, his pubic hair rubbing against your swollen clit.

He came with a moan of your name, his head flopping back as he pumped you full. You moaned out again as his cum filled you, stuffed far inside you. Maybe it was how over-sensitive you felt, but you could almost feel his seed dripping out of you.

John rolled over onto his side, holding onto you as he did so. You let out a yelp of surprise, then broke into tired giggles as your husband tucked you against his side, your belly pressing against his. He nuzzled into your head, his hands roaming every inch of your body with his cock still nestled deep inside you. He had thrown one of your legs over his so that you were in a comfortable position.

"Mmm... can't wait to get you pregnant again..." he mumbled sleepily, and you slapped him lightly on the chest, sleep beginning to wash over you as well.

"Let's wait until this one's ready to come out, yeah?" You mused, and John planted a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

"I love you. So much, sweetheart." He said, and you hugged him tighter. You loved him too.

And hopefully, after all this, you'd finally go into labour and get this stubborn baby out of you. Stubborn, just like John.

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[inkedells]

I have a request if you’re looking for one! Your innocent reader with the plushies has my mind SPINNING. How about Joel making her squirt for the first time? I can just imagine the reader getting all anxious about the sensation she’s feeling and Joel realizing she’s about to squirt. I know he’d talk her through it so good 🥵😩

oh. em. ef. gee. thank you for absolutely blessing me with this request

A/N: sequel to my dbf!joel fic featuring plushies, and now squirting (things get absolutely filthy so consider this your content warning for a joel who's so absolutely obsessed with reader squirting). read the first part to this AU here, but this can also be read as a standalone!

words: ~700

joel masterlist

mdni! | requests open but responses not guaranteed.

Joel sat naked, propped up against your plushies just as you were the other night, his legs splayed out in front of him to make room for you. With the back of your head resting on his chest and your legs intertwining with his, he was rhythmically rubbing your clit as his hard cock subtly grinded against your back.

“You like it when I play with you like this, cupcake?”

Your head thrashing, your hands reached up behind you to find his face and bring it down for you to kiss him. The angle was difficult, but the way it forced the kiss to be nothing more than a sloppy clash of your mouths only made it hotter.

“Wore these stockings just for me, didn’t you?”

You nodded eagerly, biting your lip as Joel’s free hand caressed the lace that hugged your thigh.

“You’re my fuckin’ toy,” Joel rasped, stretching the fabric until it snapped back against your sensitive skin and pulled a whine out of you, “Say it. Say, ‘I'm your toy, Joel.’”

“I’m—fuck—I’m your… I'm your toy.” As Joel continued to rub your swollen clit, an urge began to creep up on you, something you didn’t know how to explain—but you blurted out what you thought it was despite the embarrassment of it all.

“I think I have to pee... oh god.”

Immediately, Joel knew you were about to squirt. But he said nothing, instead playing with you even more strategically.

“Joel, seriously, I’m,” a shaky whine when he let the fingers of the hand which was previously caressing your leg, slip inside your pussy, “I’m not lying, please.”

He didn’t say a word for a few seconds, seemingly contemplating something. “Touch yourself.”

“W-What, no, I have to…” You cut yourself off and began to push Joel’s hand away from you in an effort to get up and address what you believed to be “the issue” between your legs. 

Joel immediately pulled you back against him. "You're my good girl, aren't you?"

Tears prickling your eyes, you blinked them away before nodding and forcing your tense muscles to relax.

"What are you?"

"I'm your--I'm your good girl."

"Then do what I say. Touch yourself, little girl, let me show you what it's like to fuck my face 'till you're dumb."

Whimpering, you shakily began rubbing circles on your clit. You felt extremely overstimulated, to the point where your legs were vibrating with it. With rapid breaths, you felt Joel slip out from beneath you and place himself with his face between your legs.

His eyes never left yours as he gripped your wrist and pulled your hand away from your pussy before licking a slow, long stripe along your seam. A few more licks, and his fingers were back on your clit, this time moving back and forth rapidly as his own hips fucked your sheets. The tingling feeling only grew more intense, forcing your pent-up energy to manifest into actions, actions like your hands flying to his hair, pulling on it with fervor, your convulsing torso, and the opening and closing motions of your trembling legs.

Joel saw all these signs and took it as his signal to give you your final instruction before he stuck out his tongue.

“In my mouth, fuck, please. Put it in my mouth.”

You didn’t understand what he meant until it was happening.

With your feet planted flat on the bed and your hands shooting to clutch your plushies, your entire body shook with it as clear liquid gushed out of you in pulses, splashing Joel’s tongue and soaking the bottom half of his face. It felt extraordinary, like nothing you had ever felt before, and you knew the pleasure of it all was intensely heightened by Joel’s receptiveness to it; the way he moaned as he drank you down and continued playing with your pussy, eagerly grinding his cock against the mattress, mumbling praises when he could, telling you how good you tasted and returning to finger fucking you in an effort to coax even more out of you.

“Beautiful, god, so beautiful, I need more,” Joel pressured, groaning in frustration when the stream stopped. “F-Fucking give me—give me more.” His mouth closed around your clit and began to suck. As if sensing that you were about to protest his ministrations, he swatted your inner thigh and rasped out in a voice hoarse from arousal, “I’m not stopping until you give me what I want, sweetheart.”

if you enjoyed, see the rest of my works here!

taglist for this AU: @777-wonders, @scarlettstarletts, @pedrosbabygirl , @deathsholywaterr , @devilmademewriteit , @jakegyllenhl

[waterinz]

HAIII UR BLOG THEME IS SO CUTE IM IN LUV!!

more sukuna smut pretty pls 🤭 maybe something ab making reader (his favorite lover/concubine) dumb on his cocks 🤭🤭

AWWW THANK U SO MUCHHHH 🤭

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡

One and only..

warnings: rough sex, fingering, restraining, kissing, size difference, choking, crying, pet names (love, angel), degrading (slut, whore, “BITCH” USED ONCE), cursing, true form sukuna, aftercare, dacryphillia.

pairings: tf!sukuna x concubine!femreader

A/N: i love reappearing after long periods of time! :3

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡

Sukuna sat at his desk, looking around at his concubines, more specifically, you. His other ones couldn’t handle him like you could, round after round. Their sex drive wasn’t as high as yours, only you could fuck him in his true form for hours on end and still have energy for more. You were special to him. Other concubines hated you, not only did he give his utmost respect and allow you to call him by his name.

So it wasn’t rocket science if he chose you, almost everytime.

“Lord Ryomen, what about me..?” One cried

“Last time you ended up crying not even a hour in.” He snarled

That might’ve been his last straw with all of them, He released them all the very next day. All except for you. You even asked him why.. You follow him as he walks around

“sukuna, where’s all the other ones?” You questioned him

He turned around, looking down on you and smirked.

“Not here, love, I didn’t need them anymore.” He responded, just as fast

You kinda felt all fuzzy inside by that, He let them all go, just keeping you. As your following sukuna around, you notice this is the way to his room. He had a feeling you noticed where he was going with this.

His face said it all, the way his eyes lidded as he walked into the room with you. Looking around for something to bend you over, his eyes stopped on his desk.

Sukuna wasted no time, bending you over his desk. He already instructed that no concubine “shall walk my hallways with undergarments” which meant, nothing besides your kimono was permitted, for easy access of course. He hummed in amusement, still the only one who compiled with no problem. All the other ones would purposely wear lingerie under their kimono’s, which would force him to rip them off.

“Like a real slut.. already soaking wet.” He mocked, Rubbing a thick finger along your clit.

His degrading never sounded like he was displeased with you, more like praising. But it’s not?

Your efforts to keep quiet were futile, letting out small groans if his finger would slightly dip in as he roamed your entrance.

“Cmon.. we both know you beg for anything else, do it now.” He commanded, still wearing that same grin

“Please fuck me, Sukuna..” You’d mewl.

Sukuna smiled in amusement as he slowly pushed his finger deeper, in response, you groaned quietly.

“You’re lucky I actually like you, If not, I wouldn’t dived in with no prep.” He laughed

It was comforting to know he liked you, even if it wasn’t obvious. He caught you off guard by inserting another finger.

“Shit..” You moaned, holding back tears already.

His strokes were deep, and the farthest from unpleasant. You still couldn’t believe he was only using 2 fingers and you were about to cry. The difference between your cries and the others is yours isn’t ear splitting, he finds only slightly attractive. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if you were crying from pain or pleasure, but he really didn’t care enough to ask.

Just as you felt your high reaching, Sukuna took his fingers out with a pop.

“The only thing I allow you to come on is my cocks.” He exclaimed

You tried to not seem needy and whine. You felt his bulky forearms lift you off the ground and presses you against the wall, spreading your folds while admiring the mess he created in a matter of minutes. He fisted his cocks a few times, maybe 4 times each before strategically inserting both of his disgustingly massive cocks into both of your neighboring holes. The stretch for your cunt wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, your ass on the other hand? It felt like Sukuna was trying to part the Red Sea between your ass.

“f-fuck..! haah-..” You babbled in between breaths.

“C’mon, whore ..” He grunted, trying to not sound too pushy.

You loved the small things, nicknames, special care, etc. His large arms held you in place as he eased himself all the way inward. Once he was fully adjusted, he wasted no time picking up the pace. You felt the need to help, so you fucked yourself back onto him with all your might. Even if it wasn’t much.

One of his hands found its way around your throat, slightly squeezing on it. He pulled your head back to face him as he made the pace unbearable and damn near impossible to match. You could visually see his smirk in your blurred vision, he lowered his head and planted a kiss on your lips. He didn’t let go easily.

You moaned against his mouth as he picked up the pace once again, leaving you speechless.

“Like a real slut, Hah-” Sukuna laughed, pulling away from the kiss as he looked down on you.

You felt yourself on edge already, Sukuna sensed it by the way you sped up.

“su-sukuna.. I’m-” You were cut off

“Cumming? I know, love” He giggled, still practically ramming himself into you.

Embarrassed was an understatement, were you really that easy to read? Probably not, but he knew a little too much about your sex patterns. Your orgasim washed over you in a wave of pure bliss, completely stopping yourself. But Sukuna couldn’t care less, he kept going. Not long after, he felt himself speeding up with the last bit of stamina he had.

“Fuck…” He groaned before letting a long rope into you.

Short breaths were exchanged in utter silence until he broke it.

“Round 2? Or you’re much too dumb for that?” He laughed

“Never” You giggled in return.

⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡ ⊹ ࣪ ˖🍰₊˚⊹♡

[milf--adjacent]

serious voting question: I'm an ml and generally I don't vote. can I ask what your reasoning is for voting third party? I'm curious to round out my opinion a little better

Seeing just how many people voted socialist back in the 19-teens was an inspiration to me as a baby leftist growing up in a deep red state. Even if they didn't win, I saw that I wasn't alone like I felt I was, that even the 'stupid' people of the past had some sense in their heads and supported policy and politics we still need even today. So no. 1 it's for the baby leftists to come who will feel trapped and alone and need a tangible connection to their beliefs: The number of people who simply didn't vote doesn't show up in textbooks, but minor party votes do.

Second: the democratic campaigning apparatus only serves to seperate those willing to organize from meaningful organization. By convincing people to put that same energy into the third party of their choice, we have countered at least a little of the Democrat's anti-revolutionary strategy. If you can convince a progressive to actually act and vote like a progressive, that's someone who might actually help when you need to set up a soup kitchen or protest in the future.

Thirdly: Many of these "I'm gonna vote anyway so I might as well vote blue" folks have never engaged in organizing. Getting involved with 3rd parties puts them in touch with others who are of a similar political slant, the first (and often most difficult) step in organizing. At least with the Greens in most places, they actively ask for help of all sorts, giving people experience in organizing they can build on as they become more politically involved. More people who know how to organize is never a bad thing.

Fourthly: If a third party can get just 5% of the national vote in an election, they are entitled to national campaign funding and a space in the official debates in the coming election. This would be a much needed shift in American politics. Democrats sound much more like republicans than leftists, and that's part of why they never get involved in the free and equal debates: the democrats are to the right of the fucking libertarians on a number of policies.

Finally: if a 3rd party candidate did win the presidency, a lot of the good things the democrats have held over our heads like bait for decades would get done, and people would have more time and energy to commit to political actions. I support 3rd party politics because at the very least it shakes things up a little. The status quo is what's killing us and any effort to change that disorganizes and spreads our true enemies thinner. Center-left socialism will not save us, but it will at least address the social ills of our society in a helpful way and attempt to tackle crisies like climate change, policing, and ending foreign policy fiascos via slashing the bloated military budget (even the fucking libertarians are running on that).

The general population of the US will refuse to even consider actual leftist politics without some sort of shift in our electoral politics. Instead of apathy and middle-finger-hoisting inaction, I chose an action with lasting strategic value. If we want a real "the revolution will not be televised" moment, we have to slap the soma of blue-tie lies out of enough hands to get people to pay attention. 3rd party electoralism is a step in the correct direction for them and a path I have started many people down already. I plan to continue until there is no need for it.

[thewertsearch]

CURRENT carcinoGeneticist [CCG] RIGHT NOW opened memo on board TEAM ADORABLOODTHIRSTY. […] CCG: THE BARD OF RAGE IS ON THE LOOSE.

Bard of Rage, eh?

I don't see how it matches his Land, but it's becoming abundantly clear that it does match him. It probably means that the murderous frenzy he's about to unleash is aspect-enhanced, just like Eridan's Hope Wand.

This, I'm fairly sure, is the first time we've ever heard of Rage. We have no idea how Gamzee weaponizes his Title - nor what boons it might grant him, now that he's fully embraced its Aspect. His powers are a complete unknown, and a Rage attack could take many forms.

CCG: HE'S COMPLETELY SNAPPED, AND FOR THOSE OF YOU FURTHER AHEAD ON THE TIMELINE, I DON'T HAVE TO TELL YOU HOW DANGEROUS HE IS. CCG: REMEMBER WHAT HE DID TO THE BLACK KING.

We didn't know there was something off about Gamzee, but the trolls did.

His power was only hidden from us, as we laughed at the funny dancing clown, completely unaware of what was under the surface. Who would suspect the juggalo parody of being dangerous?

CCG: NOBODY COULD EXPLAIN IT, AND THEN HE JUST WENT BACK TO SPACING OUT FOR THE REST OF THE BATTLE. CCG: I MEAN SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT. CCG: I DON'T EVEN THINK THE KING COULD FUCKING BELIEVE IT, FRANKLY. CCG: DID ANYONE'S ATTACK DO AS MUCH DAMAGE? I DON'T THINK SO.

His power is definitely applicable in combat, then. This is just a guess, but maybe he can store and release his repressed emotional energy?

Perhaps there was a moment where all of Gamzee’s latent Rage was released at once - and for one awful second, it was aimed directly at the King.

CCG: I DON'T EVEN THINK VRISKA'S DID, ALTHOUGH IT'S HARD TO SAY SINCE THAT WAS THE KNOCKOUT BLOW.

Typical. That girl's a born kill-stealer.

CCG: I GUESS WE THOUGHT IT WAS LIKE A SECRET JOKE POWER OR SOMETHING?

Well, there’s no reason it couldn't be. The problem is, joke abilities are often extremely effective when used strategically. Do you really want to face someone who’s using their meme powers competently?

PTC: nOw wHaT ThE MoThEr fUcK WiLl i bE SuPpOsEd tO Do? PTC: i'M nOt FoLlOwInG. CCG: PAST GAMZEE, GOD DAMN IT. CCG: I AM TRYING TO WARN PEOPLE OF YOUR MURDEROUS FUTURE SELF. CCG: THIS PRACTICALLY DOESN'T EVEN HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH YOU. CCG: NOW GO BACK TO GROPING YOUR HORNS AND BEING DISTRACTED BY COLORS YOU USELESS FUCK.

Karkat, god damn it, you have to respect him now! His future self will remember this when he’s sober, and he’ll be coming for you!

[pls-hold-me-im-justa-weeb]

Mirror sex with him but you're insecure

Gn!reader, fluff, suggestive themes, suggested mirror sex, fluff, insecure about body/face

yeah I'm projecting but it's okay

It’s now edited and proofread if you notice changes :)

He grabbed your hand gently, startling you out of your focus. You looked up at him, curious.

"What's up?" you asked, putting down your project to free you attention and your other hand. He seemed nervous, so you knew he had something he wanted to ask you. He had this quirk about being nervous asking you for something new, or for anything that would fulfill your role as a lover.

"I... Can you... I want to show you something." he finally muttered out. You cocked your head, but stood willingly and followed him to your shared room. Your eyes had to adjust to dark room, lit only by strategically placed candles that highlighted the bed. You noticed he had slightly rearranged the room, placing the free-standing mirror at the foot of the bed. You furrowed your brow in confusion.

"You moved the mirror by the bed?"

He nodded, avoiding your gaze.

"For now. Look above too."

You flicked your eyes upwards, seeing the ceiling above the bed adorned with mirrored tiles. It clicked in your mind.

"Oh" you said quietly. Your face heated at the unspoken message. He wanted to see all of you when you were fucking. The pang of dread that froze your limbs must have shown on your face.

"Is it too much?" he said quietly. You shook your head. You trusted him to see your body, as was evident by the sheer number of times he's explored your body with his tongue, but...

"I just... I'll do it if you blindfold me. I get turned off when I see my own body, especially my face, in... those... what?"

He was staring at you, serious expression on his face. Normally you could read him like a book, but you couldn't discern the conflicting emotions on his face. Regret? Confusion? Disbelief? Anger?

You shifted nervously. He stepped forward, holding your hand delicately. It always melted your heart when he was soft with you like this, showing his vulnerability despite being so strong. You swallowed, avoiding his gaze out of shame. He lifted a finger to your chin, making you look at him. You met his piercing gaze hesitantly.

"Does it cross a boundary?"

You sighed, looking down as you thought. He gave you a moment to think.

"It... pushes it. I trust you with my body completely, and if you want to see all of me like that, then if you're slow with me, blindfold me, and... um... praise me... I'll get comfortable with it pretty quick."

His hand cupped your jaw, his thumb tracing gentle lines from your cheekbone to your ear. You leaned into it, loving when he held you like this. His lips met yours lovingly, gently.

"You don't like the way your body or face looks when we’re in bed?" he asked quietly. He sounded hurt. A pang of guilt clenched your heart.

"I... I love that my body keeps me going. That it provides me with energy and movement and allows me to do the things I can do. I respect it and try hard to keep it healthy. But... I just can't find myself attractive. I've tried. I just..." you sighed, frustrated that the depth of your emotions wouldn't come out with your stumbling words.

He shushed you gently, kissing you gently as he tried to convey the worship he had for both you and your body into his lips against yours. He pulled away, both of you slightly breathless.

"Hey now, you judging my taste?" he tried to joke. You snorted.

"Never. You like what you like, my love, and it's not up to me to say or think anything about it. That's why eventually I wasn't as shy when it came to... y'know."

He hummed. You glanced towards the mirror. You could just barely see his shoulder in it, and it gave you an idea. If you could see just him... well you wouldn't complain about the view. You could see where he was coming from.

"Do you want to try it?" he murmured as he ran his lips in butterfly kisses along your neck. Heat was pooling in your abdomen from the mere thought of seeing him in the mirror, but you couldn't have that without seeing yourself at the same time. But maybe... maybe you can work up to it.

"Yes. Blindfold me for now and we can work up to more. I want to see all of you when you're fucking me." Your lewd words drew a deep hum from his chest.

"That's my baby. So beautiful."

Characters: Trafalgar Law, Ace, Sanji, Zoro (Op) Pro!Kirishima, Pro!Denki, Pro!Sero, (MHA) Nanami, Gojo (jjk), your faves

[tealvenetianmask]

Some thoughts on Blitz having combined type ADHD and why it matters to me . . .

First, I'm not negating other neurodivergences that he might have or other roots of his issues. I do think he also has dyslexia, and I also think his father didn't bother to get him much of an education. And yes, a lot of the traits I'm about to write about overlap too with ASD and various trauma responses. Comorbidity is real, and we're talking about fiction and only have so much to go on. Your interpretations/ways of diagnosing him are valid even if they don't match mine. Cool? Okay, let's go.

Inattentive symptoms. Blitz's plans come off as disorganized/chaotic, he doesn't do paperwork, doesn't know what insurance is, and visibly zones out during some conversations. He also hyperfocuses when something strikes an emotional cord, i.e. following M&M and looking for his sister, and can't focus on anything else. Random tangents and doodles seem to be a regular part of his workday. He can do fucking somersaults in midair but falls on his cute little face when he's not paying attention to where he's walking.

Hyperactive symptoms. He's bursting with energy and almost always seems ready to get up and go. He's randomly climbing things/sitting weird in chairs all the time, even as an adult. I thought this was an imp trait. Other imps don't do this. It's a Blitz trait. He speaks without thinking a lot and seems to process things out loud.

Strengths. He's calm and strategic in a crisis. He's creative and excited about his own ideas. He's at home in chaos and makes chaos WORK for him. He improvises. He's always wanted to be the boss of his own company and do things his own way. I love him so much. I love that being different/original/chaotic is portrayed so positively.

RSD (Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria). Without going into Blitz's everything, the gist is that behind the front that he doesn't care, Blitz is super sensitive to being rejected and spends a lot of time scared that rejection is going to happen. Look at him at the end of Ozzie's. Listen. This can be caused by A LOT of things, but it's super common with ADHD too, mostly because we have a ton of experience with being rejected and trouble predicting when it's going to happen. Among everything that's happened to him, Blitz had lots of "not good enough" moments as a kid.

There's a lot more. I was going to do screenshots but got overwhelmed by how many episodes I'd have to sift through.

Why I care:

I'm feeling well represented of course. So often, the person with ADHD in a piece of media is a kid, or if they're an adult, they're the primarily inattentive type. I'm still hyperactive in adulthood, and when I'm not masking enough, my behavior gets misunderstood a lot (some of this also comes from being a woman, but since I'm talking about a male character here . . . another time). It's fun and affirming to see a character in fiction who's not masking his ADHD much (because he really isn't good at that lol) and has a ton of issues but kind of rocks at being himself anyway.

[buckets-and-trees]

The Only Way of Knowing You [Nick Fowler x Reader]

Title: The Only Way of Knowing You Characters/Pairings: leshy!Nick Fowler x curvy female!Reader Word Count: 7.8k

Summary: When you visit a cabin, you're drawn more and more to the forest, the flora and fauna, and a handsome stranger you cross paths with in the woods.

Content Warnings: explicit smut - nipple play, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal intercourse, initial consent to questionable/dubious consent ending, kidnapping, intimidation, implied stalking and explicit stalking, human to monster transformation, monster fucking

Logistical Notes: Very belated, but this is my addition to the Enchanted Birthday Fest and my humble gift to all of you who come around and read what I write. Incorporating Mania (obsessive love - stalking) for @the-slumberparty's Eight Types of Love challenge. Thank you @goldylions and @sgt-seabass for blasting this with your beta energy. It certainly benefitted from your poking, prodding, and polishing.

Narrative Notes: There's a lot of leshy lore that's evolved over time since differing versions existed across Europe and you've got modern media takes. I took pieces that stuck out to me as I combed through. The most significant trait I adopted was that a leshy king could shape shift into human or animal and would adopt disguise to hide, adapt, or even lure people into the forest.

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

You gasped and stopped on the trail.

“A dog,” you whispered to no one but yourself, a grin splitting across your face.

The wilderness of the forest around you rose into a small, banked ridge on the left. You had only just heard the rustle of leaves that drew your attention over to that side to see the creature. You couldn’t tell the breed for sure – all dark fur, pointed ears, looking something between a husky and a wolf – but with him being so calm and willing to come this close to the path when he’d undoubtedly heard you walking, you assumed he couldn’t be too wild or feral. He had piercing blue eyes that locked with yours.

You were so tempted to try to call him over, but if he was wild, it was probably better not to, and if he belonged to someone, you didn’t want to lead him away from where he needed to go.

So, after another beat, you continued along your path.

After the four hour drive to your destination with some of the team from your office, as soon as you had unloaded and eaten lunch, you had been eager to get away to stretch your legs and to have some time away from everyone else, and you had some time before the rest of the team arrived for the work retreat your boss had put together. You had six days of training, strategizing, and team bonding ahead of you with a professional consultant and facilitator flown in who had built the agenda. There were breaks built throughout the day, and as you set off for this first walk, you imagined both the physical movement and the time away from the group would help keep you focused, energized, and from actually strangling your co-worker Rachel who regularly burst into song during casual conversation. 

You saw the dog again as you took the same path the next day when your group took a mid-morning break. This time, he walked alongside your path, keeping his distance off to the side, but only kept pace with you for about five minutes before wandering off.

You were hopeful to see him when you headed out in the afternoon.

But instead of the dog, you encountered a man in almost the same area, approaching you on the path.

The man was dressed in sturdy hiking boots, dark jeans, a dark green flannel over a white shirt, and a tan jacket over that. He was tall, well-built, with short brown hair, and entirely too handsome a person to encounter in real life, especially with his devastatingly blue eyes – eyes that were the same color as the dog.

You groaned internally for comparing his eyes to the dog’s.

“Hello,” he said, nodding at you a few paces before you were about to pass each other.

“Hello,” you managed to return – it was mostly automatic, but the intensity of his gaze almost prevented you from the customary politeness of fellow trailwalkers.

After he passed, you shook your head. No need to be flustered by the momentary passing of a stranger.

You looked back over your shoulder, and then your heart thudded to discover that he was looking back at you, too. He smirked, turned, and kept along his way.

You shook your head at yourself and then kept on your way.

The walking path through the forest was narrow in parts, wider in others, and rambled on for a mile or so before it split, allowing its travelers to eventually circle clockwise or counter-clockwise around a still, blue body of water that was bigger than a pond but not quite large enough to be classified as a lake. The trees ran right down to the water in many areas, and the path, as it circled, sometimes came very close to its edges, and in other places only came within ten or fifteen meters of the shore.

On day three, you saw the man in the morning, and the dog in the afternoon.

The man, the same you saw before, came towards you after he'd done a circle around the lake. You reached the two forks before having to directly pass him, to which he waved and said hello, the same casual niceties. 

In the afternoon, the dog approached you slowly but directly, and you knelt happily and held out your hand to encourage him to close the gap. He did, and after a quick sniff, let you pet him and scratch his ears.

“No collar?” you asked as you pet and admired his smooth, shiny coat.

After a minute, you stood and said, “You seem pretty familiar with this forest, well-fed, and so friendly. I don’t need to worry about you, do I?”

He circled you quickly, wagged his tail, and you laughed. “You want to join me for my walk this time?”

He trotted ahead a few steps, then looked back at you and waited.

You laughed. “I guess I’ll join you for this walk then.”

The two of you kept pace with each other all the way around the small lake, and then shortly after you got back to the main forest length, he trotted off the path into the forest again with only a small look back and a happy bark before bounding away.

That evening, because you had gone on so many walks, the rest of the group at the cabin decided to take an evening stroll around the lake. The planked wooden path made an adventure after dark doable enough. You didn’t see either of the strangers – dog or man – but there were a few times you had the keen sense you were being watched. In the dark it was impossible to tell, but the feeling came and went.

The next morning, you made your way down the deep forest path without encountering anyone and took the right fork to make your way around the lake.

At nearly the same place the dog had approached you the afternoon before, the man came striding your way from off the path.

“Hello,” he greeted as soon as he’d stepped out of the trees.

It was evident he intended to speak to you.

“Hello,” you said, trying to be friendly, but unsure how this would unfold, and a little nervous over engaging with the stranger.

Your heartbeat sped up the closer he got, but not because he was still a stranger, but because you were reminded he was altogether too handsome of a stranger. This was made even more obvious than your brief passings the previous two days, as now you could only stand still and watch as he approached you.

You remembered he was tall, but today he seemed taller. Those blue eyes had you rooted to the spot where you stood, and his face had a small but easy smile. You tried in vain to keep your heart from racing the closer he got.

“I’m Nick,” he offered, once he was close enough for conversation.

You gave your name in response.

“Nice to actually meet you,” he said as he stepped up onto the boardwalk. “You’re not from around here. Staying in one of the vacation cabins?” he guessed.

You nodded. “And you are from around here?” you surmised. “Do you live here? Work here? Both?”

“I suppose you could say both.” A calm but crips breeze swept through the trees around you, rustling through the leaves. 

“Oh, are you the caretaker?”

“Guardian, caretaker, king of the forest,” he joked.

You laughed, and it was an easy laugh.

He echoed your laugh. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“No, of course, I do,” you said.

“If you let me join you, maybe I can prove my place here in the forest, share some of the history of the land, and some of my expert knowledge.” He raised his brow in a questioning look.

You were torn equally between hesitance and intrigue, but you were more unsure of how to decline, nor did you actually want to, so you nodded, and the corner of his mouth ticked up. He swept his arm to the side, gesturing at the path, and as you started walking, he fell right in step with you.

“So, what brought you to the forest?” he asked.

You explained how your boss had booked the large corporate retreat cabin for your team, planning many days of bonding and strategy conversations and leadership workshops with the consultant flown in from New York City.

As you walked together, he made good on his promise to tell you more about the forest and the lake. He pointed out some of the flora and fauna, showing his care and consideration for the wildlife and growth of the wilderness.

“It must be nice living out here.”

“You would like it.”

You looked over at him, finding he was already watching you, and then turned your head back to the path. “I think I might. Being out here the past few days has me contemplating quitting my job, selling off most of my stuff, and just finding a small cabin in the woods and writing or something.”

“You should.”His concentrated attention both unnerved you and put you at ease at the same time. It was a strange feeling. There was something within you that wanted more time with him like this, but it was silly to want. This was only your first conversation with him. You wouldn’t be spending day after day stumbling into walks with him any more than you would be abandoning your city life to embrace a secluded existence in a cabin in the forest.

But it might be nice, you thought.

“If only,” you finally sighed.

He was quiet for a moment. Then he cleared his throat. “When are you supposed to leave?”

“The day after tomorrow.”

He hummed in thought. “That seems like an awfully long cabin retreat for a team of colleagues.”

You laughed. “It certainly is. My boss has too much money and got very excited. It’s mostly a good office of people, and there are about ten of us here, but I definitely like my time away from the group – we’ve been encouraged to spend our breaks however we need.”

“And you took to your walks in the woods.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed and smiled softly. “Oh, actually, do you know about the black dog running around out here? I’ve seen him every other day, but not yet today.”

“He caught your heart, didn’t he?”

You grinned and nodded. “Does he have owners out here, or is he wild? He doesn’t have a collar.”

“No owners.”

“Not unlike you?”

“Oh, have I caught your heart, too?”

Your jaw dropped slightly, and you tried not to let your pace falter. “I–”

He gave a chuckle, but he also let his fingers brush against yours as you continued to walk side by side. “Don’t worry, if I didn’t want to see you, I would know how to go unnoticed by you in this forest.”

“Oh.” It was a small response, especially compared to the burst of warmth that bloomed in your heart, but you weren’t quite sure how to respond. You were flattered with the flirting and his insinuation that he did want to see you. A whisper in the back of your mind wondered how many years he must have walked these woods to know its secrets and be so confident that he could wander it undetected, but he gestured for you to listen to the faint call of a pair of birds nearby. He identified them as veery thrushes, and  then you were carried along into learning about them and some of the other animals that inhabited this area of the forest during the rest of your short morning walk. 

Nick came across you walking again in the afternoon. He told you more about the forest and its history, but more and more he started to ask more questions about you.

You liked that he asked about you.

It seemed impossible that this unbelievably tall (was he even taller than he was before? Surely he wasn’t), dark, handsome man was so keen on your company, but you couldn’t help but take to him, and to the warmth of the attention he shined on you like the sun that filtered through the leaves of the trees to bathe the rest of the flora in the forest.

It may have been silly to dream about him that night when you went to sleep, but you had no real control over that, and although this whole excursion was for work, a small, inconsequential crush on someone you would never see again when you went home was fine.

The next morning, you didn’t run into him during your walk, but you were happy to run into your furry companion again, and he stayed right at your side while you took the loop around the lake. You were only a little sad there was no sign of Nick, but even though he clearly spent a lot of time there, you couldn’t expect him to always be in the woods.

So, when you were just starting along the path for your walk and hear footsteps coming up behind you, you eagerly looked over your shoulder, only to see two men walking some twenty to thirty yards behind you. You sighed and kept walking. You hadn’t seen a great deal of people on the trail over the past few days, but these weren’t the first strangers, as it was an area with enough scattered cabins throughout the forest to merit the establishment of the sturdy planked path in the first place.

But as you continued on, the men seemed to keep pace with you, speeding up when you did, and slowing down and maintaining some of the distance when you tested it, and that made you nervous. You would feel better even just to see the wild dog so you could call him to you. You were sure he would deter the men. But there was no sign of him either.

As you approached the fork that created the lake loop for the path, you didn’t know which to hope for – that they would take the other path and you would have to potentially pass them, or take the same one as you and you could hope that they would keep their distance.

They went the same way as you.

And they started to close the distance.

You thought you were imagining it at first, but when you increased your pace, theirs quickened even more, and there was no more of the hum of talking between them.

You didn’t want to panic and run. They both had a height advantage with longer legs, and if you could simply continue to walk more quickly, you could at least stave off the need to run until there was no more choice – because you were sure the second you ran, they would follow suit, and you didn’t know how long you’d last.

Especially now that your heart was already racing.

“Hey sweet thing,” one of them called out.

You focused on keeping your quick pace and didn’t look back.

“Nice day for a walk,” the same gruff voice added.

Still you refused to engage. You expected this now and then in the city, but it wasn’t supposed to happen out here. You didn’t have a phone to suddenly get on and call someone or keys in your pocket to thread through your fingers for makeshift protection. 

“Nice day for more than a walk, don’t you think?” the second man chimed in.

“Yeah, maybe a little afternoon delight.”

Your skin crawled. 

“A little fucking,” the second one jeered.

Maybe you did need to run. 

And then suddenly at a bend in the path, you turned and there he was.

Nick.

Your heart leapt in relief, and you rushed to him.

He had to have instantly seen the panic in your eyes as his own blue eyes changed immediately into a dark storm, and he looked beyond you as he quickly strode forward to meet you. He saw the men immediately as they, too, turned around the bend, and you heard their footsteps slow immediately.

Nick pulled you into his side, wrapping a protective arm around you.

“Afternoon,” one of the men said, both of them nodding, trying to pass off casual greetings as if they hadn’t been closing in on you, making their intentions clear.

“Turn around, pack up, and leave this forest,” Nick said, voice flat and threatening.

“Hey! Look, man,” the other started, but Nick cut him off.

“Turn around, pack up,” he repeated, enunciating each word with more fury, “never come back.”

They stopped walking, putting them only ten yards away.

“Now,” Nick growled.

A ripple of fear shot through you at his tone, and it wasn’t directed at you. There was a sudden groaning and crashing of trees in the distance that only added to the tension of the moment, and then the two men turned around and retreated.

“I know where you’re staying. Don’t make the mistake of thinking my directions are idle or that I won’t check to make sure you’re gone,” he spoke loudly enough for them to hear as they got further away.

With them no longer in sight, Nick turned his full attention to you, taking both your hands in his. “You alright?”

You took a deep breath in then let it out to release the tension from the fear-driven adrenaline and nodded.

He murmured your name, pressing in concern, ducking slightly to gaze directly into your eyes.

You smiled softly at his worry, the seeds that bloomed earlier in your heart coming to life and blooming a bit more. “I’m fine now,” you reassured him, giving his hands a gentle squeeze.

He narrowed his eyes.

“Really,” you promised. “Not the first intimidating creeps I’ve ever encountered.”

“Okay.” His face relaxed, but only a fraction, and you had the impression it was only to help ease your tension. “If you’re sure.”

You nodded. 

He dropped your hands, and you reminded yourself not to let your face drop as he did.

“Sorry I didn’t meet up with you earlier, I-“

You cut him off, “I wasn’t expecting you to meet up with me, and I don’t always get to steal away for these walks at the same time.”

He nodded. “I know. But I want to show you why time got away from me.”

“Okay.”

His face split into a bright smile. “Follow me,” he said, turning around and trekking into the trees. 

You trailed behind him as the ground gently sloped toward the lake. The trees and underbrush were abundant yet thin enough to allow the two of you to pass through. The wooden path varied in how close it was to the lake as it wound around, and here it was less than a minute before you could see the water’s edge. Nick abruptly stopped and put his arm out for you to also stop.

Since he’d been walking so quickly, you did bump right up against his arm with a small mumbled, “sorry,” and he turned his head to smile. Then he turned to look ahead and pointed to a cluster of rocks right at the shoreline.

You squinted to study them, and then you gasped when two little furry heads popped up over the top of the rocks.

“Otters!” you whispered.

“Yes,” Nick confirmed. “Freshwater river otters. I think we’ve got a clan of at least four that have only appeared today in the lake. Probably migrated down the river from the lake further up. They’ve been getting a bigger tourist draw up there, and I imagine they don’t want to be constantly disturbed by humans encroaching on their habitat.”

He took slow, measured, unassuming steps closer, and you tentatively followed. The two otters both perched up higher on the rocks, giving tiny yelps.

Nick motioned for you to kneel as he did. He held out his hand toward the pair of mammals.

“They’re a curious and friendly species,” he said, and even as he said the words, the two darted up and over the rocks, coming closer by a few feet before pausing. The slightly larger one gave a little trill and took a couple more hops forward. Its companion sauntered right up next to it, but then took a few more steps forward, bopped its nose against Nick’s hand, huffed and turned away, darting right down the bank and into the water, gliding smoothly away. The other came forward, gave Nick’s outstretched hand a little more of a sniff, then turned its head to you, and edged your way. You quickly but carefully stretched your hand out, received a couple of sniffs, and then this otter also snorted and trotted away and into the water, trilling as it slipped into the clear water.

“No fish, no interest,” Nick said, and the two of you laughed.

He moved to sit on the ground, and you sat next to him. The pair of otters re-emerged, swam up to shore, and dove back in and out of the water frequently as the two of you watched and talked.

You only stayed there for a short space of time, and then Nick seemed to sense without you needing to prompt him that it was time to get back to your walk. He stood and gave you a hand up. He held onto your fingers for just an extra moment, looking at your hands together, before letting go and brushing himself off. You did the same, and then fell into step with him, heading back to the path.

Easy conversation, just like the day before, continued to flow between you. He appeared to have endless questions about you, and again his rapt attention was its own warm, addictive rush, and that thing in your heart continued to grow, vines starting to sneak out of your heart and around your chest.

Suddenly he stopped, and you stopped another step ahead and turned to look back at him. “What is it?”

“We’re at the spot that leads up to the cabin your group is staying in,” he answered, a broad smirk on his face.

“Oh,” your cheeks heated, and you ducked your head to laugh. “Oops.”

You didn’t want your last walk with him to suddenly be over.

“You’re quite taken with all of this, aren’t you? The forest calls to you.”

You let out a wistful sigh and looked back up at him. Damn those impossibly deep blue eyes. You were overcome with a terrible ache that radiated from the base of your throat and the top of your chest, and you desperately tried to tamp down the thick emotion.

“But I have to go home tomorrow.”

“Come walk with me tonight.”

You bit your lip.

“Come on,” he urged you. “It’s your last night, and it’s a full moon. You have to see the forest bathed in the full moon's light. Come with me.”

“Yes,” you heard the word tumble out of your mouth, unable to deny him.

His eyes darkened and sparkled. “I promise you’ll see things you’ve never seen before.”

Though Nick wasn’t far from your thoughts, you focused well enough on your last evening with the group, engaging in dinner and the evening’s bonding activities. Wine and mocktails were poured for a final night looking up at the stars around a fire in the firepit on the balcony, and you made sure to enjoy that time, too. You had liked some of your coworkers before the retreat, but now you had a better understanding and appreciation for all of them.

However, once it got closer to ten, you anxiously started taking stock of the minutes passing away further into the night. Two of your group said goodnight at ten, but that was too early. You determined you would do well to stay with the balcony group until at least half-ten so you didn’t get too anxious about seeing Nick later.

At ten-thirty, a few more peeled off from the group, and so you retired to your room so that your timely departure didn’t seem unnatural to anyone.

You showered and messed with your hair for a bit but didn’t bother with makeup since it was after dark. You put on your favorite pair of joggers, a crewneck, and good walking shoes. You certainly hadn’t anticipated taking to the forest with so many walks each day, it wasn’t anything like how you were at home – busy with work and taking care of your life in the city – but it had been so natural to take to the outdoors while you were here. This final walk before your party went home in the morning wasn’t going to be like any of the others. You tried not to feel foolish for indulging in a walk at midnight with the hulking man with the most captivating blue eyes you’d ever seen who could easily take your breath away and whisk you off your feet.

But you had said yes because when else would you ever do something like this?

The answer was never.

And there was no harm in taking a handsome man up on his offer for a midnight stroll in the moonlight.

You put on the watch your grandmother had given you and the simple necklace you typically wore. They weren’t much, and you told yourself you didn’t need to dress up anyway, but they were small touches all the same.

Looking briefly in the mirror, you smoothed your hand down over the front of your shirt and took a deep breath. It’s fine, you thought. He’s seen you plenty before now, and it’s going to be dark, and it’s only a walk anyway. You checked your watch, and it was just a few minutes before eleven-thirty, which is when Nick had said to meet him.

You slipped quietly out of your room, down the stairs, and out the back door. The full moon was bright out here so far away from any city lights, illuminating the familiar path from the cabin that would take you down to the main boardwalk trail.

So many times Nick had simply appeared in the forest, but he was waiting for you right at the end of the path. Your heart raced just a little as his lips turned up in a smile.

“Hey,” you said softly.

“You came.”

He studied your face intently. You were unsure what he was looking for and simply focused on returning your gaze as unassuming as possible, telling your heart to settle and stop beating so fast. Yes, he made you feel things, but one of those things over the past few days had also been a sense of calm and safety in his presence, and you concentrated on that.

After another moment, finally, you responded with a simple, “I said I would.”

The corners of his mouth turned up. “Then let’s go.”

You fell easily into step with him, the trail so familiar now, though it had been less than a week, and knowing this ramble down to the lake and back, your chest started to feel thick in anticipation of missing it already. As you walked and talked, you thought you were keeping pace with Nick, but maybe you were more tired than you thought because it seemed like you were working to stay in stride with him as you hadn’t had to before. Either that or his legs were longer than before, but that – of course – was an impossible thought.

You shook your head.

Nick paused and turned. “What are you shaking your head at?” he asked. “I’ve lost you, haven’t I?” His tone was soft and teasing.

“Sorry, I got distracted, and my imagination got a little carried away with impossibilities.”

He cocked his head slightly. “Maybe more is possible in this forest than you might think.” His eyes danced with a hint of mystery.

“Is that so?” You played into his mischief.

He leaned closer. “This is an old forest, and it’s a full moon. Anything could happen on a night like tonight.”

Your body seemed drawn into him, leaning closer as well. “Anything?”

“Anything,” he whispered, and his eyes flicked down to your lips.

The moment hung between you. You tilted your head up, and your eyes fluttered closed. You could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

And then he tugged on your hand, yanking you out of the moment. “Come on, pretty girl, we’re almost there.”

You sighed, letting out the breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

But with how tightly his hand held yours as he led you off the boardwalk and into the trees, you didn’t feel too disappointed.

He was quiet now, but he also kept you close as he led you through this part of the forest. The trees were more thickly woven together here, with girthier trunks, and you couldn’t help but feel how they were older the further you wandered in. There was no trace of a path now, but Nick kept a confident pace, clearly knowing each inch of the forest intimately, and his surety allowed you to let yourself be swept away further and further along.

His steps were swift but nearly silent, and you tried to walk as quietly as possible. The sounds of the forest at night were soft but present – soft wind whistling through the trees, the song of nocturnal birds, and the chirping of crickets. The light filtering through the branches was minimal, and it had to be tricking you because you knew he was tall, but it felt like he was somehow taller tonight. It had to be the nature of how you were keeping so close just behind him, focused on the square of his shoulder and the gentle pull of his arm leading you.

He wasn’t taller now than he was earlier today, was he?

“Just up ahead,” he said, looking back over his shoulder at you, one of the easy smiles that made your heart sigh painted on his face.

His pace quickened, and your anticipation built as you hurried to keep up.

Seconds before the tree line broke, you heard the rippling sounds of water before emerging into a glade. Nick stopped a few steps into the clearing, and you came to stand right next to him. The first thing to draw your eye was a stream running into a small pool. The meadow on the side of the stream where you stood sloped gently down to the water, and it was covered in blankets of wood anemone, reaching right down to the bank and springing up and sprawling away again on the other side. The trees surrounding the glade were certainly some of the tallest you’d seen in the forest, and they rose as giant sentinels toward the inky black sky, which was studded with stars around the bright full moon.

As you looked up and around, the coupling of the simplicity and the majesty of it all had you enraptured, and you let out a soft sigh of contentment.

Nick brought your hand up to his face, pressed a kiss to the back of your hand, and your heart stuttered in your chest. You turned to look at him. His eyes almost appeared to glow an even brighter blue.

“I said it earlier, but this forest calls to you, doesn’t it?”

Your brows furrowed.

“Close your eyes,” he said.

You did.

He dropped your hand, and you let it fall to your side.

“Take a deep breath,” he whispered.

You inhaled slowly, letting the breath fill your belly and lungs, fresh, clean, and calm. You tipped your head back, your face craving the moonlight in that moment.

Although you didn’t hear him move, suddenly you felt the warmth of Nick standing behind you. “Now, listen and feel,” he murmured softly in your ear, his breath warm against your skin. You shivered but remained rooted to the spot. His fingers brushed along the backs of your hands and began to trail slowly up your arms. Your whole body was humming at his touch.

He pressed one soft kiss to your neck, and you sighed and let your neck fall to the side. When his hands landed on your shoulders, he pressed another soft kiss at the bottom of your neck, then turned you to face him.

“You should stay with me.”

Before you could respond, he took your head in both his hands, cradling your jaw. He searched your eyes for any hesitancy, but you knew you couldn’t summon any, nor did you want to. Instead, you pushed up on your toes, seeking his lips, and he met you halfway, claiming your lips with his.

Your hands came up to clutch at his wrists as he held your face, and you leaned in, longing to feel your body close to his. His tongue teased at the seam of your mouth, and you let him in, allowing the kiss to deepen, to sear into your very soul. His left hand moved, quickly coming to press at the small of your back, drawing you flush against him. One of your arms wound around his broad chest, and the other came up to mirror how he was cupping your cheek, feeling the trace of stubble along his jaw with your fingers. You stroked his tongue with yours, moaning into the kiss, and he reciprocated stroke for stroke. You quickly became so consumed by his kiss, feeling lightheaded but not sure if it was him or a lack of air, because you couldn’t tell if you were still breathing. It was a fevered kiss driven by something you’d never felt so strongly before, and you needed more.

Nick sank to his knees, and you went naturally down with him. He sat back on his heels, and you followed, perching in his lap. He held you there, your core over his groin, for a delicious moment, and then suddenly he lifted you up and laid you softly but swiftly onto the soft flowery bed of the meadow, his lips never leaving yours. You gasped and giggled against his mouth.

“What a lovely sound,” he said tenderly. He pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, a satisfied grin on his face.

Whether it was smug or sweet, you weren’t sure, and you felt your cheeks growing warm under his hungry gaze and his soft praise.

“I wonder what other lovely sounds I can draw from you,” he added as both of his hands moved to your hips. He began kissing you again, having only given you a moment of reprieve, then his hands slid slowly up your waist, skimming up over your ribs, pushing up the fabric of your sweatshirt. When his thumbs brushed up against the underswell of your breasts, he pressed back and forth a few times, teasing you, drawing a little whimper, before he let his thumbs run up and over your nipples. They were both peaked, and you shivered in pleasure, the teasing through the fabric of your bra its own unique sensation, but you were eager for more, so you moved your hands to begin quickly unbuttoning his flannel. He took the hint, helping you by shrugging off his jacket, and when he leaned up for a moment to pull off his flannel and remove the t-shirt he had on beneath it, so you shifted beneath him to pull off your sweatshirt and reach for the clasp of your bra, tossing that to the side as well.

You hadn’t hesitated to rid yourself of your clothes, but you were hit with the rush of baring your chest to him now as – with his own clothing discarded – he froze and looked down at you from above. You flushed with heat, but as you moved one hand to tentatively cover yourself, he grabbed it in his, drew it up to his mouth, and kissed your palm.

You were aware of every imperfection as his eyes roved over your body, but when he looked into your eyes and said, “gorgeous,” his face was so serious, so hungry, you didn’t question that he meant it.

He lowered himself back down over you, supporting himself by planting one forearm on the ground next to your side, and this time his lips sought your chest. He kissed down your sternum, then took one breast in his mouth, and palmed the other with his free hand. You moaned as he sucked one nipple and rolled and teased the other with his fingers. You arched beneath him, your body responsive to his diligent ministrations. He switched to the other breast, flicking his tongue over the nipple before lapping and sucking at it. You hadn’t cum before from nipple play alone, but he had you wondering if you might as the pleasure mounted.

You trembled and whimpered beneath him, and as you began to writhe more desperately, he took his mouth off your breast with an audible pop. He moved back up your body, and his hand cupped your face again, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek, urging you to open your eyes and look at him.

“Tell me you never thought about it, about staying here with me after I left you earlier today,” he said.

You were already breathless, or else the powerful drive in his deep blue eyes would have stolen your breath once again.

“You must let me have you,” he implored.

You couldn’t answer, but only because you were overcome by the desire in his eyes. For you.

Your name fell from his lips, and his voice was soft, deep, and controlled, but you could still feel the edge of the desperate plea as he uttered your name.

“Yes,” you keened, and you rocked your hips up against his.

“Say the words,” he said. “Say my name and tell me I can have you.”

He slipped his hand down, hooked two fingers into your waistband, and pulled teasingly along the edge from your hip to just below your navel. The torturous movement along your soft skin only drove the hunger that was building for more.

He had to know how he was mounting and playing with the anticipation. But if he needed you to say it, you’d say anything to get what you wanted right now under the light of the full moon from this inimitable figure of a man, nearly unreal in his beauty.

“Nick, you can have me!” You cried.

He wasted no time in pulling your trousers and underwear down in one go. You tried to kick off your shoes, but slightly struggling to do so, his hands helped remove your shoes and socks more deftly, and he was able to more easily toss it all away. And as your legs settled back down on either side of him as he knelt above you, you realized he was suddenly somehow as naked as you – though you didn’t know how he managed that so quickly, so quickly it felt like magic. Everything about tonight felt illusory, and yet it was all tangible and indisputable, and you gave yourself over to it. When else would you ever find yourself in such an enchanted set of circumstances like this ever again?

So what if it felt like a dream?

You took a deep breath and let your fingers tangle in the grass and the stems of the wood anemone. Your eyes traveled up his thighs to a cock so thick and long and hard for you, then up further, over his hips, defined abs, chiseled chest, and broad shoulders, and you whined. Every inch of him ignited heat through your body, and when your eyes met his again, your pulse stuttered.

You could dream like this for one night.

Keeping his eyes locked on yours, Nick settled back on his haunches and pulled your thighs up over his, drawing you up over him, angling your lower half up as an offering, and his piercing cerulean gaze moved to your core, fully on display. His fingers brushed over your lower stomach, the touch so light it tickled, and you jerked, but his other hand held your hip firmly in place. His fingers parted your folds without hesitation, and he licked his lips.

“Such a pretty, wet cunt, my little nymph,” he said, and you felt both shy being so exposed to him, and desperate for him.

“Nymph?” you couldn’t help but question, surprised by the pet name. 

“Mhmm,” Nick hummed. He traced your wet folds with one finger, in no rush. “You belong to this forest.” He spread your wetness along those lips with the attention of an artist to his canvas. Then he slipped two fingers inside your cunt.

You gasped, and your eyes fluttered closed.

He pushed them all the way in, then gave a few slow, shallow thrusts in and out.

You never wanted to wake up from this, but you needed more.

“Nick, please!”

He withdrew his fingers and then pressed them to your lips. “Taste your sweet nectar, nymph.”

The digits easily slipped into your mouth, and the urge to suck was a near primal reaction. He applied gentle pressure on your tongue as you sucked, and it only drove the craving in your core further. You were entirely lucid, and yet you felt thoroughly intoxicated by him, by everything around you.

“Open your eyes,” he said, and you did.

You swore he could see into your soul when he looked at you so intensely, but rather than fear, it soothed your nerves. It also more deeply stoked your desire for him, and as much as you wanted to linger in this moment, there was an undeniable pull you couldn’t ignore.

“Kiss me,” you breathed.

He shifted to lean down over you, remaining rooted between your thighs but shifting forward so you were nearly chest to chest. He bore his weight on his forearms, caging you in. As he settled, lips only a breath away from you, you felt the weight of his large, thick cock rest on your stomach. You lifted your head to pull him into the kiss you wanted. You ached for him to fill you up, but you also wanted to give everything just to this kiss for a few beats longer.

It was like he was drinking you in. One of your arms came up around his back, the other brushed up along the side of his arm, seeking and ultimately finding his hand, and your fingers instinctively entwined together.

He moved his other hand down briefly to guide the head of his cock to your weeping hole, and you gave a little moan into his mouth as his head entered you.

As he seated his cock fully inside of you, the tip nudging your cervix, you had to break off your kiss to concentrate on breathing. Nick dropped his forehead to yours, seemingly unable to refuse some form of intimate closeness as he rocked into you again. “You can feel it,” he spoke, the warmth of his breath still close to your mouth.

“Yes,” you panted. Your legs wrapped around his torso. He resumed thrusting, slow, deep thrusts.

“I can feel it, too,” he murmured along your jaw. “You’re answering the call of the forest.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed, hardly focused on what he was saying, but the deep warmth of his voice made the words swell through your mind.

He continued his unhurried thrusts, almost methodical in nature, and after a few more minutes, his cock began to swell inside you. And it continued to grow.

You moaned – or groaned – you couldn’t decipher if what you were feeling was real and whether it was painful or pure ecstasy. Your hand clasped his more tightly, and his answering squeeze was accompanied by tendrils of vines sprouting and circling around your hand and down around your wrist.

“What?” Your eyes flew open, and then you gasped. “Nick!”

He was transforming before your eyes. His face remained familiar, but a crown of horns appeared around his head, and emerald moss and glossy leaves intermingled and sprouted throughout his dark hair. Two enormous, magnificent antlers had emerged from his temple and were still slowly growing, just as he was still slowly growing inside you as he continued his steady thrusts. His shoulders broadened, and you knew he was growing in stature. 

You trembled beneath him, tears springing to your eyes, in danger of spilling over.

“I told you, my little nymph: I’m the king and guardian of this forest – it speaks to me like it wants to speak to you. You’re answering the call, and I can’t,” he paused to groan, and with a shiver, you felt the ridge of his spine shift from skin to a supple tree bark. “It’s midnight, and with you giving yourself to me and the forest, I can’t hold back my true form.”

He began to thrust more quickly in and out of your cunt, a few of the strokes a little erratic. You whimpered, overwhelmed, and a few tears spilled over your cheeks.

“No, none of that,” he scolded, but kissed away the tears. “You didn’t want to leave, and now you don’t have to, nor can you.”

His free hand moved between you and found your pulsing, puffy clit, applying immediate, furious little circles that refused to let you feel anything but pleasure in response to his ministrations. His lips reclaimed yours once again, and as your body continued to tremble, his thrusts sped up even more, your channel never more full, making the mounting wave of pain and pleasure so exquisite as the waves grew that you let out a sob as your orgasm crashed over you.

Unrelenting, as your cunt contracted around him, Nick more demandingly sought his own release. He moved both hands to grip your ribs below your wrists and railed into you with abandon, punching the air from your lungs over and over, and ultimately pushing you into a rushed second orgasm only seconds before he roared his own ecstasy, his hips stuttering as he spilled deep loads of his seed inside of you, a warmth you could feel permeating you.

And then Nick petted your face, showering kisses softly over your lips, cheeks, and eyelids before ultimately resting his forehead on yours, and gently caressing your neck.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited for you, for this, and now you're mine forever.”

↠ Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

If you enjoyed this at all, read the other two fics from the Enchanted Birthday Fest! They're both exquisite!

[houseofchalamet]

Biggest Fan

Pairing: Timothee Chalamet x f!Reader Summary: Reader has been absolutely filthy in the DMs and when she meets Timothée unexpectedly, he wants her to make good on her promises. Warnings: Smut (oral - male receiving), sexualizing a celebrity, technically a power imbalance, curse words. Word count: 2k

There was no way he’d ever see your DMs. He probably got thousands of messages a day; yours would get lost in a sea of countless others. And he was rarely ever on Twitter…

Still, you’d occasionally send some DMs anyway, just for the hell of it. It started tame. Telling him how much you loved his work, how excited you were for the next Dune movie… Small things like that. 

And then the thirst started.

It was all because of the Oscars… The damn Oscars. God, he looked so good. You felt like you were going to explode the second the shirtless image of him appeared on your TV screen. In the heat of the moment, you whipped out your phone and began typing every lewd thought that popped into your head.

Everything about him was perfect, from his hair down to the smallest details, like the rings on his fingers. You drank in every image you could find of his bare chest. Before you knew it, you were composing the nastiest paragraph you’d ever written in your life (up until that point, at least) and hitting send without a second thought.

God, it’s almost unfair how perfect you are. You’re so fucking sexy in your sparkly little jacket. I wanna taste every inch of you. I want you to fuck my mouth and make me gag on your cock. I want your cum running down my throat. I want you to fuck me so hard and fast that all I know is your name. I want you to absolutely obliterate me. I wanna be your personal fuckdoll… I’m fucking dripping just thinking about it. I need you inside me so fucking bad. I’m such a needy slut for you.

That was just the first one, and as time went on, they grew more graphic. It became an outlet, a way to get all of this sexual energy out. Your messages ranged from short, innocent sentences to long, erotic paragraphs detailing all of the depraved things you wanted him to do to you.

But he’d never see it.

Right?

***

The club was full of drunk, sweaty bodies. You were perfectly content to stand in the corner all night with your best friend, Jess, and sway to the music, feeling the bass vibrate through the floor.

“Hey, isn’t he that guy you’re so obsessed with?” Jess asked, pointing discreetly to a group of guys in the corner.

Your jaw dropped as you realized you were standing in the presence of the Timothée Chalamet. He was with a group of friends and appeared to be having a good time. Your heart began to race in your chest.

“Come on,” Jess said, taking in your stunned appearance. She tugged your hand, starting to lead you in his direction, but you pulled back.

“Are you fucking insane? I can’t just walk right up to him, I’ll literally drop dead on the spot.”

“Okay, fine, don’t talk to him.” She held back a laugh at your outburst. “But you know if you don’t at least stand in the same general vicinity as him, you’ll hate yourself forever.” 

Damn. You hated when she was right.

You both weaved through the crowd, strategically placing yourselves closer and closer every few moments without making it too obvious. 

You fought the urge to keep glancing at him, though all you wanted to do was drink in his appearance. You weren’t sure you’d ever get the chance to see him in person again. 

Jess was talking about something Britney had said to her earlier - you weren’t really paying too much attention - when you tried to steal a glance at exactly the wrong moment.

His eyes met yours. 

And instead of looking away and pretending nothing had happened like a normal person would in this circumstance, you froze. Your eyes widened, giving you a slight deer-in-the-headlights expression. He broke into that adorable, lopsided smile you loved so much.

Then, to your surprise, he started moving toward you.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whispered to Jess.

“Wha-”

“Hey, I’m Timothée,” he said. Jess’s eyes widened, too, as she processed the situation. Holy fuck he was so close, you could smell him now. And he smelled good.

“I… I know,” you replied stupidly, the awe evident in your voice.

“I’m Jess, and this is (Y/N),” she stepped in for you. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he smiled. His eyes flicked back to you. His brow furrowed and his head tilted to one side as he took you in, but after a few seconds, he shook his head. “Sorry, have we met before?”

“Umm…” You pretended to think for a second, even though you’d definitely remember if you’d met this literal god before. “Nope, I don’t think so.”

“Hm… Weird. I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

You shrugged this off; he’d probably met so many fans in so many countries, there was bound to be at least one other girl somewhere who somewhat resembled you.

He was extremely nice and offered to take photos with you. He hung around to chat for a few minutes before excusing himself back to his friends. Besides your general awkwardness - which he was probably used to, judging by the way he easily brushed it off - the interaction couldn’t have gone any better.

“He’s literally my future husband,” you told Jess dreamily as you both watched him walk away.

“Not if I marry him first,” she joked.

“Hey! At least share!” You pouted.

She jokingly stuck her tongue out at you, and then her eyes scanned the room. “Well, if my marriage to Timmy doesn’t pan out, I think I just found his replacement. Mind if I go dance?”

“Nah, go right ahead,” you replied. You leaned against a wall, focusing on your phone. You posted your photo with Timmy to Instagram, and then popped onto Twitter to make the photo your profile pic. Your moots were about to go feral. For a moment, your thumb hovered over the messages icon. 

Ah, why not?

Hot sweatpants, cutie. I’ll make you sweat and pant;)

You chuckled a little to yourself. God, that was a cringey one. Still, it was just for your entertainment, so why not?

You continued scrolling through Twitter, enjoying your fifteen minutes of fame as you were bombarded by a million questions, each more unhinged than the last (‘What did he smell like?’ ‘Who was he with?’ ‘Did you lick his hand? I would’ve licked his hand’ etc). You were in the middle of replying to someone when you heard a voice beside you.

“I know where I recognized you from!”

Your eyes met his green ones and your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t expecting any more attention from Timothée, but obviously welcomed it.

“Where’s that?” you asked, trying to be nonchalant. He pulled up his phone and showed you the screen.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. You were horrified as you took in Timothée’s view of your DM’s. He must have turned his read receipts off. He didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment as he scrolled up in the conversation a little.

“This is one of my favorites, ‘My ass is grass and I want you to mow it.’ Or that time you just sent the link to Deep Throat by Cupcakke.”

“Oh, god,” you said, putting your head in your hands. You couldn’t even deny that it was you; the profile picture gave you away. You wanted to spontaneously combust. “I didn’t think you’d actually see that.”

“I could tell…” he chuckled. Thankfully, he scrolled past your more… needy messages and focused on the ironic ones. “‘I would let you break my back in half, spit in my mouth, dislocate my jaw, pee on me, rip out my intestines, and then hit me with your car and I’d still be your biggest fan.’”

“Ugh, God,” you groaned. 

He smirked at you and you swore his eyes flicked down to your lips for a split second. When he spoke again, the joking tone had disappeared. “You think you’re my biggest fan?”

Your mouth opened but no words came out. You drew in a sharp breath. “I- uh… y-yeah.”

His voice dropped dangerously low; you were sure no one else could hear. “Would you be willing to prove it?”

His words swam around in your head and you struggled to make sense of them. Surely, you had misunderstood… You blinked, watching as his tongue swiped over his lips. 

“Absolutely.”

Before you could even process what was happening, he had taken your hand and led you down a hallway, somehow unseen by anyone else. He slipped you into a bathroom and shut the door behind you both. 

Pressing you against the door, he attached his lips to yours.

You felt yourself relax into him as he kissed you deeply. Suddenly, your shy side had disappeared and in its place stood the horndog who had written all those DMs. You gently bit his bottom lip and he wound his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and he ground against you. You practically moaned; he was already hard. You reached down, stroking him through his pants. He was just as big as you’d imagined.

You pushed him back until he was leaning against the sink and were on your knees in an instant, tugging down his sweatpants. You licked your lips as his dick sprang free.

“Love reading your desperate little messages over and over again…” he sighed, his head dropping back a little as you stroked him slowly.

“Mmm… Yeah?” you smirked, taking the tip between your lips and sucking lightly. His eyes rolled back and his mouth dropped open as he gripped the counter for support. You could tell he was restraining himself from bucking his hips up into you.

“Fuuuuckkk yeaaah,” he hissed. Slowly, teasingly, you began to descend on him. “God, I jack off nearly every day to them… Love seeing how needy you are for me.”

Your brain practically stopped working; the situation you found yourself in was too good to even begin to comprehend. Timothée Chalamet had just admitted to enjoying your depraved fantasies while his dick was in your mouth. Your pussy was dripping.

You hummed in response, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head torturously slow. He seemed to understand the game you were playing and was happy to give you more.

“Sometimes I go onto your profile and scroll through your selfies and imagine fucking you just like you want me to.” One of his hands weaved into your hair, but he didn’t apply any pressure just yet. You took all of him in your mouth now, his tip nudging the back of your throat. You came back up slowly, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft.

“Fuck,” he hissed again. You started to bob your head faster now. After a few moments, his restraint wavered and he began to thrust into you. You blinked up at him, eyes full of nothing but pure adoration as he fucked your mouth. “Fuck, (Y/N), you’re so fucking good for me… Gonna be a good girl and swallow my cum?”

“Mmmhm,” you hummed and he gasped at the feeling of your throat vibrating. He released another string of curses before you felt his hot cum shooting down your throat. You absolutely savored the moment, taking in every drop you could. You never wanted to forget this feeling; this taste. 

You bobbed your head a couple more times before pulling off, causing his legs to tremble. He caught his breath, pulling his pants back up. He looked down at you, knelt on the floor before him, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed and lips swollen. 

He held out a hand to help you up, which you took. You frowned, unhappy that your encounter was over.

But as if reading your mind, he took your face in his hands. “Don’t look so disappointed. I’m not finished with you yet, love.”

[arxxq]

• 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇, 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐘...🌷•

୨⎯ "eyes don't lie, say you're mine?"⎯୧

My first Aventurine x reader post. (also my first hsr imagine post)

Mentions and implied afab/female reader so I apologize for that I will try to make it up by making a gender neutral imagine soon. stellaron hunter reader!! Pure sfw? Fluffy + angst? Mistakes will be corrected once I find the time and energy to reread it. English is not my first language so please keep in mind my usage of words is not advanced and my grammar will have mistakes as well as spelling so bare with me here. Quite long...?

"I hate you..."

Those were the words she always had said to a certain blonde headed IPC executive. She didn't know why she even crossed paths with him in the first place....but unfortunately it was all written in her script that Elio said so.

Like her coworker Sam, her script was also quite brief. Nothing but a few short sentences and it aggravated her so badly.

But lines in her script said she'll break rules one day for a certain man...she scoffed at that fact. "For a man? Really?" She didn't like the idea of so.

But now realising it...maybe that line in her script was for that certain IPC executive.

She hated it. No matter how much she said "I hate you" to him...she always finds herself meeting him all over again. Was she really head over heels for an IPC executive? It made her stomach sick.

"I know you say that all the time," she snapped out of her thoughts when the certain blonde laughed. God that laugh really knows how to make her stomach twirl. "Penny for your thoughts? Or in this case a chip..." Aventurine asks the woman in front while flipping a chip in the air.

"or we could continue gambling though I'd say I would win either way" he always did after all. His good luck is what makes it so unique. "It's fine.." she gave him a short response. "Now hey what's with the cold shoulder?" Aventurine is clearly confused.

The woman sighed looking at her chips. Her gaze then changed moving it to meet his. Now noticing it she saw the beauty in his multi-colored eyes...even if it has no light it still seemed to shine stars to her. She then let out a hitched breath and without thinking she muttered. "Your eyes are pretty..."

Now realising it she cursed in her head...

"I love him..."

"shit I fucking love him..."

"Your eyes are pretty.."

Aventurine's eyes widened in shock. Did he hear that right? The woman who constantly reminded him that he hated her was complimenting him?

"Are you alright you're acting weird," he laughs trying to change the mood but she looked so deep in thought.

He will be honest meeting her a year ago was probably one of the things he still remembers till now. He never expected to cross paths with her either.

"Well if it isn't miss stellaron hunter [name], I never expected to see you here~" the woman in front of him looked at him in utter disgust.

"An IPC executive? You must be under the ten stonehearts then?" Her words were harsh but nonetheless Aventurine was too distracted with the softness of her voice. To him her voice could calm the oceans. It was so soft yet her words were hurtful.

"Ouch [name] I'm hurt, my name is Aventurine of the Ten Stonehearts, senior manager of the strategic investment department in the IPC it's an honour to meet you ma'am,"

That was their first encounter but it seems like he remembers and can recall every single moment they've spent with each other.

Silence engulfed their surroundings, there was no one else there but the two of them. None of them dared to utter a single word. Aventurine gaze lingered on [name] and her words.

"your eyes are pretty..."

Indeed he's gotten compliments that his eyes are pretty, but to him her eyes were much more majestic than his. Sure it never compared to him but he would always get so lost staring at them. As for her beauty that's where he was at first so lost but no he has an answer.

To him she was but a piece of art that can't easily be won through a gamble or any sort of money. She was an artwork that was unfinished yet so astonishingly beautiful that he admired her forever if he wanted to and he would.

He wanted to love her, he did...but he couldn't. It had nothing to do with him being in the IPC but rather his fear of losing her. After all even with his good luck it seems like it has no affect on his loved ones as he lost them once and twice and thrice and he was not willing to lose another one.

It was a gamble indeed and for once he didn't want to take this one...but it was so tempting.

But he couldn't...after all he can't possibly try to love someone else without learning to love himself more.

It was devastating indeed.

"life sent me you, but I can't have you in order to not lose you so soon...."

[name] didn't know what to do...she could tell from afar that the said man never really loved himself...not finding any enjoyment in the things he's doing. He was afraid but he hid under a confident facade.

To her Aventurine was Fragile as a dandelion but yet he was as brave as a wildflower. To her he was just a beautiful boy with such a broken soul yet she loved him. In the start she was in denial but in her script she remembered a line that was long which never was usual...

"Your heart will fall for another, a confident soul yet so broken in denial you will be, you will soon learn to seek for his love. Your heart knows the way so run in that direction no matter the risk and the consequences that will come..."

She now knows what it meant. She loved him and she wished that she could possibly lend her eyes to him so he could see just how spectacular he was in the eyes of someone who was supposedly born with hatred and see the newfangled that dance within her vision when he sees him.

The girl smiled without knowing because in her head she realised that meeting him was destiny's will.

"what chance did I stand against kismet (fate)? Even if I did hate it I don't regret it now...at some point some rules in life really were meant to be broken..."

As for Aventurine the moment he saw her smile...even if it was so small to him it was like a gift from the gods and above. To him she looked like an ethereal yet ghostly angel with a divine smile on her archangel face.

She was like the moon or perhaps the sun? It didn't matter anyways as her beauty was intimidating yet that was the reason she admired her so much. Seeing her smile was the last straw to him. He knew that she lived her life hating on others due to the hate that was given to her...so he wanted to give her a different perspective hoping that it could make her learn that there are some things worth to love

In each of their minds they made a choice...

"maybe just this once..."

"I wouldn't mind gambling my life just so I can love her and this time I'll be sure I won't lose her...so she can learn that there are things in life worth loving..."

"Just this once..."

"I'll adjust the rules and listen to my heart just so I can love him hoping he'll know how amazing he really is..."

There were just two human beings...and sometimes it's never really wrong to listen to your heart and desires no? Because in this life we all live with desires...whether it can be fulfilled or not it was up to destiny to decide.

For these two...I guess you could say that even fate wanted them to love...after all they can't possibly go against that can they?

do not plagiarize my works to any other platform or so...

reblogs and likes are highly appreciated

(feel free to comment and criticise my work nicely so I can improve!!)

a/n: it's quite long since I written something, so it's quite rusty? But if you've read my works before is there any improvement? This is my first hsr creation and it is about aventurine. Ever since I played the quest I got so attached to his lore and he became my favourite. Hope you enjoyed this. I'm not really proud of this work and I'm not sure if it's ooc but if you manage to read it till the end thank you. Have a great day and I hope that to those pulling for Aventurine..you'll get him since he's out in a few hours.

I have 106 pulls saved up wish me luck !

And all the best from me.

Have a great day or night <3

[fandomfluffandfuck]

as someone obsessed with pussy steve, it drives me insane because i was doing my final exam today and all i was thinking about is "am i going to read the same pussy steve blog of S? yeah tf i am" and im here requesting from u some more pussy steve bc goddamn thats my obsessionnnnn. plus it's my first time asking u to write anything (i dont do shit but read things here and trying not fail school at the same time)

related to this pussy Steve ask

also... we're channeling this vibe shamelessly as we continue on from that last post, still set during WWII

Good job with your finals!! Let's dive in 👀

Steve can't fucking take it anymore, groaning as he flops back onto the squeaky, lumpy mattress that's supposed to be his bed. They've been holed up in this goddamn remote rubble city for what feels like years after clearing the town of HYDRA and Nazi agents with no action to burn off his excessive energy. The once standing city has long since been evacuated because of the air raids. The bombs have flattened almost half of it, shaking the other half immensely, but without orders to go elsewhere, the Howling Commandos are lying low, trying to plan their next move on their own. It feels like a waste just to march all the way back to camp but they don't have any other leads. Not yet.

And the Howlies have scavenged the area already, gathering any remaining, surviving food that isn't their shit MREs, plus having made sure no civilians were left behind before sitting down to talk and plan.

And talk and plan and talk and plan.

Steve can only strategize for so long, he can only play card games for so long, he can only draw on scraps of paper for so long; the serum has left him even more hot blooded than he was with all this vivacity he couldn't've dreamed of before, as thin and sickly as he was. So it's a fucking problem. Sitting still.

Waiting.

They should be doing something. Seeing action. Doing good. This is war. It feels so bizarre to sit between what they have just seen and what they're going to see. Bad things.

So, yeah, Steve is having a hard time unhelped by the fact that they're stuck in the one reliable structure that happens to be a small inn with thin walls. It's a blessing to have their own rooms and real beds, just enough rooms that they only have to pair up rather than sleeping in a dog pile together, but they might as well be together with these paper walls. Thus, Steve is being extra careful as he attempts to burn off some steam, alone while the others do... whatever... out in the main room (maybe a game of poker?) by stuffing the undershirt he's been wearing beneath his red white and blue uniform into his mouth.

The shirt tastes of salt and musk, balled up and packed between his teeth, filling his mouth, keeping his jaw open. Keeping the sounds he wants to make down. Most of the sounds. He can't help the sounds his body makes that don't come out of his mouth... wet, slick squelching sounds from between his legs, his fingers plunging deep into himself as if he's trying to get to his heart. In the scenario where he wanted to get off and be done with it, he'd be making tight, hard circles around his clit, pressing down against it hard, impatient and rough with himself, making himself a little raw with it but a lot sensitive--but that's not what he wants right now. He wants to burn through energy now. So, he has two fingers crooked inside his pussy, plunging them in and drawing them out slow enough that it makes him crazy. It's enough to feel good, so, so good, but not enough to get him off.

Steve's not wearing his uniform without the undershirt while he fingers himself. Well, he's not wearing it in full. He's kept his pants and boots on in case they need to get up and go, but... his pants are gaping open.

He's undone the long zip and aaall the latching buttons, ripping the taps as wide apart as he can get them without just taking his pants off. His hand shoved beneath both layers--pants and underwear.

His boxers are ruined. Wet. Soaked.

Registering just how sticky and wet he is, pulling his fingers out of his cunt to trace his puffy, swollen slit, he plays with his own wetness. He's dripping. He doesn't touch his aching clit directly, but he does put pressure on the legs of it, tracing the v down his vulva, spreading his legs wider, just a tiny bit, so his lips are out of the way as much as they can be, exposing himself, touching himself, and--

Choking on a whimper as electric pleasure shoots through him.

That's the closest he's let himself get to touching his clit in, in... however long it's been? An hour? Two? Ten minutes?

Steve doesn't let it last. Instead, blearily, he presses his middle and ring fingers back into himself. Back into the scorching, melted heat of his body. His foot kicks out, restless, needing something to do with the thick lust building inside him. Groaning softly through his shirt, Steve arches his neck, lifting his head off the bed just enough to let it come crashing back down heavily, giving his sweat-soaked blonde hair an impressively ruffled style.

As thoughts as he feels--his coherency consumed by pleasure--Steve suddenly flushes, wondering if Bucky will be able to smell it on him when he's done (if he doesn't already know what he's locked himself into their room to do). Once he's worn himself out, cumming on his own fingers after too much build up to be comfortable, leaving himself hurting with too much tension and desire, will Bucky know? Steve will button and zip up his pants and put his shirt back on and waltz back out there, but will it all be only for Bucky to corner him away from the other guys and maybe tip his chin up, fingers on his jaw, eye-to-eye, give him those dark eyes that say, I know what you did, maybe Bucky will kiss his neck and murmur to him hotly, or maybe he'll bend him over, their clothes still on, his cock a hot, thick line in his trousers, pressed against his slit, sweet talking him with his players voice, saying filthy things about how he can smell it on him like he's a bitch in heat with the most syrupy tone, crooning so Steve will get stickier, wetter, and gooey-er. Melted in the center like some kind of oozing, chocolate dessert. Hot and ready to be devoured.

Bitten.

Licked.

Swallowed.

Steve is thinking about his best guy's cock and he's thinking about his mouth, too, now. He's thinking about those sweet talking, wicked lips. He's thinking about his immaculately styled head of hair between his thighs, going to town. Not an ounce of reservation in the way he dives into him, in how he licks, how he slurps, how he fucks.

Jesus Christ.

Steve's jaw works around his balled up shirt, clenching. His throat contracts as he swallows thickly, praying that he doesn't wail like he wants to. The sound is in his chest, rattling around, building into this aching pressure. He can't fit anymore arousal inside himself. He's gonna burst.

Then, when he's weak and he just can't fucking stop himself, Bucky on his mind like always, Steve curls his fingers just enough to catch the raised spot inside him, spongy and sensitive. So fucking sensitive. His sweet spot that causes his hips to involuntarily buck up, searching for more, needing more. If he weren't gagged, he'd be moaning for it.

Moaning Bucky's name.

Bucky's on his mind already, so, of course, he wants Bucky on his tongue, too. Worse, he wants Bucky inside him. He wants him so bad that he's fucking aching, clenching around his fingers, hips squirming, toes curling, panting. He wants Bucky's cock in him so bad, slamming home so he's leaking around it, wetting his balls and smearing all over both of their thighs. He's a slippery mess.

He wants Bucky so bad that he has to stop thrusting his fingers in and out of his tight cunt to work a third finger into himself, chasing the girth of his dick. He can't get as deep as Bucky does, and it's just not the same to the point that, that--

Steve garbles out something of a sob. His eyes sting with tears. His head is so hot with frustration. Hazy and smoking. He can't think. He can't keep his rhythm. He's shaking.

Fuck.

When he pulls out to add another fingertip--stretching before he eases the entire length of his own finger in--he realizes he can smell himself. Already, he could smell himself wafting up from his unwashed shirt, sweaty, but now he can smell the hot, briny musk of his own arousal, carried on the sex-thick air of the quaint inn room. Humid and heavy.

He can smell himself. Sweat, musk, and leaking slick. It's an unmistable scent that turns Steve on more than it should, considering it's his own smell, twisting up in his gut and making him feel tighter, tenser, hotter. He can taste himself. Sweat, musk, and dirty, unwashed cotton coating his tongue, dripping down his throat, joining the lust already pooled low in his belly. He can hear himself. Slick, squelching, and lewd with his fingers curling inside himself. Muffled and drowning with sounds dying in the back of his throat before they have the chance to come out of his mouth. The soft snuffling, shuffling sounds of his pants folding and brushing against the bed sheets, fabric rustling and creaking as his thighs spread instinctively until the the seams groan. Every sound is another piece of wood added to the fire, burning hotter until it crackles and pops with the explosions of hot sap. Steve is feasting on these sensations as much as he's feasting on the slick, velvet feeling of the inside of his own pussy. He can touch himself. Smooth, wet inner walls that cling so tightly to his own fingers. If he could lift his head, the weight of his empty skull, so weakened, he could see himself, too--his hand moving in his pants, the veins running over his muscled forearms bulging with the effort of working his fingers so much.

God, he wants more in him.

His fingers work faster, curling a little harder, plunging deeper until he's erupting with another garbled cry.

He wants Bucky's cock in his pussy, throbbing with the pound of his best guy's heart, at the same time that he wants Bucky's thumb to sneak down between where their sweaty bodies collide with every frantic thrust, slicking the digit up with Steve's overpouring wetness until he reaches back, traces the sensitive, pink flesh between his legs to get to his asshole and pops it inside him, too, giving him something extra. Extra stuffing, his thumb in his ass, pressing back against his pussy. The thin wall between his holes. Giving him something more to clench down on while he wails, crashing over the edge as Bucky grinds so deep he can taste it, choke on it, so deep that his pelvis rubs on Steve's swollen clit and makes it impossible not to cum.

Guh.

Steve is drooling, soaking into his own shirt, thinking about Bucky.

Drowning in pleasure from his own hand.

Steve is rocking up into his hand, his hips with a mind of their own, or, rather, mindless in the pursuit of pleasure, instinctively rutting, humping, rolling, and just going. He's trying to swallow moans and gasps to varying degrees of success. He knows not all of them stay down in his tight, heaving chest, but he doesn't know how loud his noises are, his heartbeat is too loud in his ears.

Regardless of his noises, he keeps chasing his pleasure, his clit swollen and peaking out as much as it can from it's hood--leaving it vulnerable and draaagging just lightly against the heel of his hand. It's agonizing. With every feathered drag of his sensitive clit against his hand, it's making his sounds grow worse. He will be wailing soon no matter what he does. No matter how much he tries to keep it down.

It aches.

It hurts.

It feels sofuckinggood.

His jaw is working so hard that it feels like his teeth will rip into his shirt soon. Gah. Oh, ah, yeahh--

The temperature keeps going up and up in and all around Steve, fever hot, when the door swings open.

Steve is so tightly wound that he can't freeze. There is no way to stop the forest fire within him. It's going to have to come to its own conclusion when it has burned through everything he has, only ash left. Nothing can put him out.

So it's a damn good thing that it's Bucky that walks through the open door, hurriedly slamming it behind him when his eyes land on Steve's debauched, twitching form on the bed they've been sharing. A cold rush of air comes in with him, leaving all the hair on Steve's body to stand on end in salute. He quivers harder.

Bucky wastes no time. He is deadly, vicious in his pursuit--the sound of the door slamming hits Steve's ears, delayed with his mushy brain, and then Bucky is immediately on him like a predator pouncing.

His body is heavy on top of him, pinning him with the drag of his uniform against Steve's sensitive, sweat-glistening skin.

Real.

He's so real that it's visceral. It's not just Steve's heated, out-of-control fantasies as he approaches his orgasm without breaks.

Bucky cages him in with his body, one of his hands planted by Steve's head, steadying himself, while his other hand grabs ahold of Steve's forearm to rip his hand out of his pants.

Steve does wail then, through his makeshift gag.

The look on Bucky's face is evil, mocking him playfully, asking, oh, really, is that how it is?

After all these years, they read each other like open books. Steve knows he knows how turned on he is, and it's devastating. Bucky probably knows just based on how much he's blushing and how he can't keep his eyes open, how long he's been going at it for. He knows how much it aches to be untouched when he gets like this. Especially now. Post-serum. It's all he can think about. He can feel his heartbeat pounding in his pussy. He's hot and swollen and so wet that it brings stinging tears to his eyes. God.

He's so fucking needy.

He needs Bucky. He needs--

Bucky sticks both of Steve's hands above his head, crossed at the wrist, and uses one of his own to pin them there. Steve could easily break away any time, but now. He's so worn down. He's weak. His brain has gone out of his head, and all of his super-strength has drained from his body out of his weeping cunt. He's depleted. He can do nothing by lay there, helpless and vulnerable, as Bucky shoves and pushes and shimmies his pants and underwear down. He barely gets them halfway down his thighs before he stops, and because of it, Steve sucks in a sharp breath through his balled up shirt. The air of the room is shocking against his soaked, sticky center.

Guh.

GUH!

Steve makes a fucking stupid sound when Bucky quits messing with his tangled up pants to instead mess with his pussy. He slips one, then two, then three inside him. Fast. A predator tearing through prey, no time to think, just do. His shit eating grin tells Steve that he's impressed with how sloppy he's gotten himself, and he wants to cry in embarrassment but also pride.

With three fingers inside him, Bucky curls them and grinds them deeper, deeper, curls, deep, curl, deep--

Steve's head is spinning. He doesn't even know what Bucky is doing to him. It just, it, it, ohgod, his eyes roll back so far, so hard it hurts, it feels so good. It's wrecking him. Whatever he's doing to him. Maybe it's Bucky's reckless thirst for him. Maybe it's the serum burning like venom in his veins. Maybe it's both of them mixing together into one harsh cocktail, so intoxicating it immediately makes him drunk.

The things Bucky is doing to his body make Steve want to shriek in pleasure. He's letting go of his wrists but it's not like Steve can move anyway and it's for good reason that he's not pinning him anymore because instead he's pressing down on his belly with that hand as he curls his fingers more, more, more, curling them towards himself hard, pressing so hard on that spot inside him that Steve doesn't even, he's not even sure he can comprehend the pleasure cutting through him, it's so much pressure building up inside him, taking more space than he realized he had even inside this bigger, stronger body, he can't, he's not strong enough, he--

Steve gasps and squirms, not understanding, wanting to babble, oh, oh, Bucky, what-I, I'm-! Wait! What is that feeling? Why does it feel like that? Wh--he can't, though, he can't say anything, his mouth stuffed.

He screams behind his teeth and--

Steve fucking whites out.

He's there one minute and then he's gone in a flash. Too much pleasure. Too much pressure. Too good. He's half convinced, totally out of his mind, that he's exploded or, or...

Oh.

As Steve returns to himself in bits and pieces, still shattered in the aftermath, he's almost sure he's lost so much control of himself that he's pissed himself. He's so fucking wet. Soaked down his thighs and down Bucky's wrist. If he has pissed himself, then he's given everything up to Bucky, his body entirely his lover's, every part of it, but then.

JesusfuckingChrist.

Then, Bucky's voice breaks through the ringing in his ears, and he's softly, quietly purring to him, mindful of their thin walls in a way Steve has not been while being stripped down to the bone in exhausting, overwhelming pleasure. Bucky's voice is all low and hot, too turned on as he works Steve through it, touching him much softer, nicer, lighter while he tells him how fucking hot that was, watching him, feeling him squirt around his fingers. And, holy shit, he's gonna make him do that on his dick. He will.

It's a promise.

Now that he knows he can make Steve squirt, he's gonna do it all. the. fucking. time.

Steve whines through his gag, his body trembling hard with his fading fever. Oh. It hits like a sledgehammer to the back of his head. He's going to die. Bucky is gonna kill him, making him squirt, making him writhe, making him want to crawl out of his own body, giving him too much gutteral, visceral pleasure.

Bonus:

I've had a draft sitting here on Tumblr for a while that simply says:

Lil pussy Steve domming big, beefy Bucky. Steve's wearing a pair of panties to a party, getting them messy in a closet or bathroom or... both... where Bucky fingers him until he cums, then, once they've finished and Steve is desperately wet, he makes Bucky put swap underwear with him. Bucky obeys because of course he's done--he's big and he falls hard. Steve's wet, dirty panties, though, they're much too tight and remind him for the next few hours (hours that Steve, the introvert, suspiciously makes them stick around the party for) exactly of what they did. How he made his dom squirt and make these panties wet and smell musky and hot like his pussy does. Ruin them. Ruining the panties, ruining Bucky.

Plus, the whole rest of the party, Bucky has to live with the fact that Steve doesn't have any underwear on because rather than put Bucky's boxers on, he shoved them into his pocket where he could take them out at any time. Fuck, they could fall out at any moment! Bucky can't focus on a single fucking conversation.

And it's not until they get home that Bucky gets to cum.

When they're finally, finally home, Steve pushes Bucky down onto the floor, mounts his lap, and grinds into his hard, hard cock bursting out of his teeny-tiny, too-tight panties. The underwear is so little and delicate, all wet lace, that Bucky nearly ripped them putting on his bigger body. Demanding him to cum and ruin them further, one of Steve's thin, bony hands constricts around his throat.

Oh, yeah, he owns this big, subby mess of a man.

So... do with that what you will 😏

[grapementos]

How would Mha characters react when they find out your injured? (Requesting for Bakugo,Izuku,Kirishima,Aizawa and Denki! More can be added to ur liking!) ❤️

title

『 ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴏʏꜱ ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ꜱɪɢɴɪꜰɪᴄᴀɴᴛʟʏ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ʙᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ. 』

⤷ ᴀɢᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ᴋ. ʙᴀᴋᴜɢᴏ, ᴋ. ᴅᴇɴᴋɪ, ɪ. ᴍɪᴅᴏʀɪʏᴀ, ᴇ. ᴋɪʀɪꜱʜɪᴍᴀ, ꜱ. ᴀɪᴢᴀᴡᴀ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

⤷ ᴄᴡ: ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ, ɪɴᴊᴜʀʏ, ꜰɪɢʜᴛɪɴɢ

you’d been too confident, too sure of the power that your quirk held. you misstepped, miscalculated, was three steps behind the villain as they swept you off your feet—not in the good way.

your head slammed against the ground as your legs crumpled beneath you, your ears ringing so loud it hurt your brain. your vision blurred, but you fought to focus again.

just as the villain moved to strike again, you rolled over and jumped to your feet, using the adrenaline to attack when they weren’t looking.

thankfully, your blow landed, but thanks to their quirk, it mirrored the damage and sent you flying.

you groaned as your back met a solid wall, the taste of iron filling your mouth, “fuck.”

thankfully, your head was left unscathed this time around, so you were able to pull yourself back up and strategize. adrenaline ran hot through your body, numbing the pain of the two recent attacks.

you attacked, but without your quirk, staying out of their line of vision. finally, when they weren’t paying attention, you used your quirk to finish the job.

you slapped some cuffs on them and called the police and then one of your sidekicks, letting them know your state and that you wouldn’t be able to make it back on your own.

once you hung up, you dropped down against the wall, the pain finally caught up to you, red-hot all over your body as you slowly slipped out of consciousness.

-

❥ katsuki stormed into the infirmary of your agency, wildly searching for you. the moment he laid eyes on you, relief evident all over his face.

“oh god, are you okay?” he grabbed your hand, squeezing it tight.

you coughed, your free hand resting on your ribs, “yeah. just a little banged up.” you lifted your shirt, showing the blossoming bruises, “you should see the other guy.”

he wasn’t laughing, not even smiling, “why didn’t you call for backup?”

“thought i could take ‘em.” you mumbled, a little embarrassed at your own weakness, “sorry.”

he sighed and shook his head, skimming his thumb over the back of your hand, “we can talk about it later. i’m just glad you’re okay. no permanent damage?”

you shook your head, “just a crap ton of pain. concussed. too much light hurts my eyes.”

he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “i’ll stay with you and make sure it’s as dark as you need it to be.”

“thanks, kats.” you smiled, giving his hand a light squeeze, “thanks for coming.”

“of course, baby. the moment i found out you were hurt, i started running over here.”

“you ran?” you giggled but stopped once the pain in your side grew to be too much.

“yeah, was a couple blocks away. don’t laugh, i don’t want you to get more hurt.” he frowned.

“‘kay, i wont. i love you.”

“i love you, too.”

❥ kaminari nearly stumbled over himself as he busted into the infirmary, eyes already red-rimmed after he’d heard the news. you felt the nervous energy buzzing off of him as soon as he stepped into the room, a faint hum being heard as his quirk interacted with the lights.

once he saw you, he was immediately by your side, hands on your cheeks, “are you okay?”

he was just a bit too loud, hurting your already throbbing head.

once he noticed you wince, he apologized and spoke at a whisper, “sorry, love. how are you feeling?”

you nodded, “i’m okay. just bruised and have a bit of a concussion.”

his face was pained just at the thought of you being hurt, “as soon as we get out of here, we’re gonna lay down, watch movies with the blinds closed and lights off, and take it easy.”

you smiled at the idea, “sounds amazing, kami.”

he kissed your hand, “then hurry up and get better, okay?”

you nodded, slowly and carefully scooting over to make some room for him on the bed, "lay with me?"

he grinned, carefully claiming the spot next to you. it was a tight fit, but he was able to lay by your side without causing you any pain.

"think i'm gonna nap." you mumbled, looking at him with tired eyes.

"alright, i'll be right by your side, baby."

❥ midoriya was a mess when he finally walked through the door, having stopped at the store to pick up anything you might have needed, including an extra pair of clothes.

"sorry i didn't get here sooner," he placed the items on the bureau, "i thought you might need some food and clothes. i know your quirk takes a lot out of you, not to mention your injuries, so--"

"izu," you stopped him, squeezing your eyes shut, "just come be with me, please."

he shut up, making his way over to you, "how're you feeling?"

"i'm okay. i should've called for backup," you reached out for his hand, linking your pinkie with his.

"yeah, you should've, but now you'll know for next time." he assured, "i'm just so relieved that you're okay. i hate that you don't have a partner."

"don't." you stopped him, cause you knew exactly where this conversation was going, "you're not quitting your agency and joining mine or vice versa. we're doing good, izu. this was just a bump in the road."

he sighed, pulling up a chair next to your bed, "yeah. okay. i know you can handle yourself, but it still scares me."

you smiled, "well, i may not have one for all, but i can handle myself. i just got cocky today. i'm okay, izuku. we're okay."

he nodded, seemingly convinced by your words, "alright, i trust you. now, get your rest. i'll be here."

you kissed his hand, "i know you will."

❥ kirishima all but tore the door off its hinges to get into your room. he was by your side faster than you could've even kept up with, worry and fear evident in his eyes.

"are you okay? your commissioner called me an--and, i came straight here--they didn't give me any specifics, i just--"

"woah, eiji," you grabbed his hand, placing it over your heart, "feel it? i'm okay. just got thrown around a little. kinda part of this whole hero deal."

he calmed down at the feeling of your heart thrumming against his palm, an significant amount of stress rolling off his body in waves, "yeah, okay." he whispered, getting his bearings, "sorry, sorry, i just.. i assumed the worst."

"i know you did. you always do, but i'm here, and we're together, and everything's okay." you assured, intertwining your fingers with his, "i just wanna go home w'you already."

"i know, but i think they're gonna keep you here overnight," he frowned, "i'll stay here with you. sleep on a chair or something."

"you can sleep with me, ei." you rolled your eyes but immediately regret it when even that hurt your head, "just don't crush me in your sleep."

he shook his head, "no way. i can't risk that. really, i'll just ask for a cot or something."

you knew he wouldn't budge, so you nodded, "fine. but you're holding my hand all night."

he grinned for the first time, showing you that blinding, sharp smile that you love, "duh."

❥ despite how calm he usually was, aizawa swung the door open to the infirmary, scared and a bit angry.

"do you want me to scold you before or after i ask if you're okay?" he frowned, approaching your bed.

"get it over with." you couldn't help but grin, ready for the reminder of all the mistakes you made that landed you in the infirmary in the first place.

he narrowed his eyes, "backup, y/n. the entire point of having sidekicks and being a hero out in the public eye is that you have backup--visibility. you're strong, but you're too self-reliant."

"you think i'm strong?"

his eye twitched. he really didn't see the humor in your situation, but it was you, and he could never stay mad at you, "y/n, you're insufferable, but i'm being serious. being a hero means knowing when to call for help, so please, for my sanity and your health, can you master that skill?"

you sighed, knowing he was right, "yeah, i can. i'm sorry. i just got cocky after i moved up in the ranks this past week."

"that's why i chose underground," he muttered, "numbers get in your head and make you think you're invincible, like some omnipotent god."

you giggled, holding onto your side as pain flared up, "not this again. you're never gonna persuade me to be an underground hero. i am an omnipotent god."

"and that's how you wound up here, in an infirmary." he pinched the bridge of his nose, "you're gonna be the death of me."

"at least you'll go out with a bang," you grinned, reaching up for his hand.

he grabbed it, placing a kiss atop, "true, darling. very true."

a/n: woooo, thanks for the request. funny story: i actually started writing bakugo’s part and then it became like,,, 1.5k long,,, so i’m doing a stand-alone for him!!

[mar-thewriter]

confused connections

dick grayson x f reader

you wake up with your period without dick there and give him a quick call to ask where the painkillers are.

dick finishes a team meeting and hears his girlfriend in pain and panics.

authors note: ok so i truthfully hate the miscommunication trope. but i dont hate it when its used comedically. and this was a funny idea i had on my period. so. have fun. word count: 2.1k tw: blood (put on shoes if ur cleaning up glass), period talk

There were two things that were the worst to wake up to. 1: your cramps hitting you like a truck, and 2: your lovely boyfriend not being here to hold. Both issues amplified one another as you woke up with a groan. Fuck’s sake, this one was rough.

You barely were able to make it to the bathroom when you decided it was going to be a sleep-in-and-bed-rest day. Especially without Dick there to help bring you water or painkillers (or when he rubs that crease in your back with his thumbs in little circles), you wanted to save your energy, so you’d still be able to help yourself without just collapsing.

You knew Dick would be gone today, of course. You’d had a whole conversation about what the Bats are planning and how they’d be spending the next two days strategizing on best moves. It’s not something they necessarily had to be in person for, but it was clear that Bruce made an attempt to keep these meetings in person, both for safety, and for time with his kids. You didn’t want to interfere. Especially with you and Dick finding a place for you two to live together in Blüdhaven, you wanted to let him spend time with his family. He wouldn’t be able to use the excuse of being in Gotham to see you to also see his brothers, so you wanted to respect his space as much as possible.

You made yourself a quick tea, got a cereal bar for some simple breakfast, and a glass of water. You tried to find the painkillers but with the frequency that Dick leaves the bottles scattered around the apartment, you had no clue where he put them last. You could live without it, you were sure. It’d be fine. You’d turn on some old crime show and be out like a light in no time.

It took thirty minutes before it became unbearable. You were half asleep, so close to finally just passing out, when a new wave of cramps hit you like a train. As much as you didn’t want to disturb Dick, you knew that it was either that, searching the whole place while you can barely move, or leaving to buy a new bottle entirely. A quick call couldn’t hurt, you were sure.

You dialed him quickly, setting your phone on speaker on the nightstand. You didn’t bother turning down the TV or even sitting up, face smushed into the side of the pillow. It didn’t take him long to answer.

“Hey, babe. What’s up?” You could hear the smile in his voice, and that alone eased you slightly.

But only for a second. You groaned softly, trying to be a bit quieter as you spoke, “Hi, hun, listen, do you- do you remember where you put the painkillers?”

“The painkillers? Top shelf of the pantry, little basket next to the spare trash bags. Is everything alright?” You could hear the weariness in his voice.

“Yeah, I’m fine, love, just-“ you were cut off by another soft groan, the loud yelling from the TV drowning out most of the noise. You reached by your phone to grab the remote, reaching around blindly when-

A loud crash took you by shock. You let out a slight gasp, sitting up finally to see your glass of water on the ground, the cup shattered into pieces. Next to it, lay your phone as well. You cursed, reaching a hand out and letting out a slight whine from the stretch as you grabbed your phone.

“Shit. Dick, I’ll have to call you back- I love you,” you hung up, placing your phone back on the nightstand with a groan. This day couldn’t get any worse, could it?

You made your way carefully off the bed, tiptoeing around the bigger chunks of glass you could see. Making it to the kitchen, you grabbed the painkillers and quickly took two, grabbing the broom and a new cup of water (in a plastic cup this time) to set on the nightstand. You made quick work of the glass, sweeping it into the dustpan.

Once you’d walked back to put the broom in the kitchen, you were quickly made aware that you were not as careful stepping around the glass as you’d thought, hissing in pain as you walked back to your room. Thankfully, with your first aid kit and a pair of sterilized tweezers, getting glass out wasn’t the hardest issue to solve. You’d had more than your fair share of pulling glass shards out of Dick that you consider yourself something of an expert.

By the time you’d wrapped your foot, you could feel the painkillers finally start kicking in. You shut your bedroom door, closed all the blinds, and made the room as dark as possible before finally lowering the TV volume. You crawled into bed once more, and it was only a few minutes before you found yourself drifting asleep.

—

“Hey, babe. What’s up?” Dick smiled as he answered your call. He’d only been away from you for a few hours, but god he was already missing you.

The team-strategizing meeting took a lot less time than they’d imagined. Babs and Tim had figured out nearly every detail before the rest of them had even arrived. The mission wasn’t set to start until next week, during which they’d monitor all criminal activity and freight shipping to make sure their information was actually accurate. Since things had gone by so fast, Dick was already planning to surprise you tomorrow morning by showing up early and bringing you a whole batch of Alfred’s cookies. Hearing your voice was just another reminder of getting to see you.

That elation didn’t last long.

“Hi, hun, listen, do you- do you remember where you put the painkillers?”

He could hear the pain in your voice, and he felt panic rising in him quickly. You sounded slightly muffled, and he could hear a slight talking in the background.

“The painkillers? Top shelf of the pantry, little basket next to the spare trash bags. Is everything alright?” You would tell him if something was wrong. He knew you would. But his mind kept running through scenarios. What if there was an intruder holding you at gunpoint? Were you talking in code? Were you even at home? Did you get-

“Yeah, I’m fine, love, just-“ you were cut off by the sound of people yelling, and he heard you groan in pain again. There was more shuffling and commotion before his heart dropped.

A shatter. You gasping. And a thud.

Fuck.

“Shit. Dick, I’ll have to call you back- I love you,” he was about to plead for you to stay on call before you abruptly hung up. He immediately rushed to the Batcave, nearly walking right into Jason on the way.

“Woah, Birdboy, what’s got you in such a rush?”

“It’s my girlfriend. She’s in trouble and she’s hurt. I have to go, now.”

He worked on getting suited up while Jason spoke, “What are we talking here? How bad is she hurt?”

Dick sighed, “I’m not sure. She was asking about painkillers and then some glass shattered and there were people yelling and she hung up.”

Jason nodded, “Alright, I’m coming with you.”

That made Dick pause for a moment. “You’re what?”

“You said people yelling, and she’s already injured. You need the help. I’ll focus on the people; you just get to your girl.”

Dick nodded, pulling his mask on. “I- yeah, fine. Okay. Not the great first meeting I imagined, but- yes.”

Jason pulled his helmet on, “Don’t worry about the semantics. ‘Bout time we met this girl of yours anyway.”

They went to leave, but they were quickly stopped. By Damian. Already suited up. “I overheard you and Todd speaking. I’ll be coming with as well.”

“Fine, let’s just get going. We don’t have time for this.”

All Dick cared about was getting you to safety as fast as possible. And he’d ensure it.

Things were quiet when they made it to your apartment.

“There’s no sign of forced entry. All the blinds are down. Is there any chance she would have let someone into the apartment?” Damian spoke softly.

“It’s unlikely, but they could’ve pushed their way in if she opened the door. Alright, I’ll give the countdown, it seems quiet now, so we’re-“

“There’s no one in the living room. I’m not getting any heat signatures.” Oracle’s voice came through his comm loud and clear.

“I- You too?” Dick sighed, “Thank you, Oracle.” He fished his keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door quietly.

“Honestly, Wing, you have a key to her place, and you still haven’t let us meet her? That’s just cold, man.” Jason shook his head slightly.

“Not the time, baby bat.” Dick huffed, unlocking the door and walking in slowly. He took a moment to survey the apartment. Nothing looked out of place. The kitchen was a bit disheveled, but nothing completely out of place. Everything looked fairly normal.

“Nightwing. There.” Damian pointed, a splotch of red on the floor.

Dick held his breath, eyes following a trail of bloody footprints across the floor, right to the bedroom. There was no time to think. He rushed forward, bursting the door open, Damian and Jason hot on his feet, all three with weapons at the ready.

He heard a loud scream - your scream - and he whipped his head to the sound. Only to see… you. In bed. Perfectly fine.

“D- Nightwing? What the fuck is going on?”

Jason and Damian both relaxed, slumping in response to the lack of present danger.

“I- your call. There’s- the blood, the shatter on the phone, I-?” Dick was… incredibly confused.

“What? Oh, baby, no. I-“ you paused, looking at the two boys behind him.

Dick turned, giving them a slight awkward nod, “Uh, just… give us a second, guys. You too, Oracle.” He heard his comm click off, and Damian and Jason stepped out, shutting the door behind them.

He walked over, taking a good look at you. He gently gripped your arms as you continued speaking.

“I woke up with cramps. That’s why I needed the painkillers. And the shattering was my cup of water I knocked off the nightstand while trying to turn down the TV. I cut my foot on a piece when cleaning it, I didn’t realize I was tracking blood all over, I guess. I’m sorry to scare you.”

“Oh, babe, no, don’t apologize,” he sighed, sitting on the bed to hug you tightly. His hand lightly carded through your hair, kissing the top of your forehead. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I just- I heard the shatter, and you sounded like you were in pain, so…” He sighed, tension leaking from his body.

“It’s alright, love. I should have clarified over the phone.” You chuckled softly, pulling away to give him a warm, loving kiss. “Though maybe I should scare you more often. That was pretty sexy of you.”

“Oh?” He chuckled, lightly cupping your chin, “Was it now?”

“It was,” you hummed, voice getting low, “All hyped up on adrenaline, in that tight little suit. Maybe next date night, I’ll fake a kidnapping.”

“Oh, god. As sexy as I may look, please don’t. I think I might actually destroy half the city by accident.” He laughed, and even just his laugh brought a grin to your face, your laughter joining his.

He smiled at you like you hung each star in the sky just for him. You smiled at him like he made them shine just for you.

“So,” he spoke softly, “I know it’s your time of the month, which I will be staying tonight and ordering your favorite from the shop on the corner. Now, I know you might not be up to socializing too much, but… want to meet two of my brothers?”

You hummed, brushing some hair from his eyes, “The painkillers are doing their job very well, so I’d be happy to. It’s… Jason and Damian, right?”

He nodded. “It is. Sweet of you to remember.”

“Mm, not hard to remember when one of them was a murderous five-year-old and the other literally came back from the dead.”

He laughed, “Yeah, fair. Just be lucky, you got the normal one.”

You chuckled, standing, and holding his hands tightly, “Normal one. Says the boy in blue spandex.”

He laughed, pulling you to him for a kiss, “You love this boy in blue spandex.”

You sighed wistfully, placing a hand on his cheek, “I sure do.”

[charnelhouse]

I know this is self indulgent AF and probs you won’t even want to get to this when we’re all still howling at the moon about zombieland Joel but I would really love to know about the happy ending him on the farm 💕💕

A/N: Joel Miller x F!Reader. Oral. Age gap but not defined.

Joel tastes her at blue dawn. The pale threads of morning slipping beneath the wooden shutters of their bedroom. He can smell winter outside–pine and burnt wood. The smoky bite of last night’s fire touching the corners of their bed. 

“Shit,” she whimpers, fingers caught in his hair. She fists it hard when Joel licks deeper. Her knees digging into his ears, her hips bucking beneath his chin. He may be older, but he still knows how to get her off.

He introduces a finger and then a second. He marvels at how hot she gets, the interior of her body swelling with a fever that makes her sweat and ache and sing Joel Joel Joel.

He thrusts to the knuckle before curling them strategically. She moans.

“That’s it, baby,” he says before pressing an indulgent kiss to her inner thigh. “Ride it out.”

There was a time before when they were only violence. He remembers her covered in blood and fueled by survival. It’s aged her in a way. She’s still beautiful, but marked. A scar slithers down her belly and Joel catches himself stroking it more often than not. 

Remember when I almost lost you? Remember when you saved me? Remember. Remember.

“God,” she cries out when he fucks his fingers up. He twists his hand so he can press his thumb to her clit and she’s soaked. It’s all wet between her thighs and she can go on like that forever. It’s that youthful energy matched with how in tune she is with him. It is like they’re made of the same material though sometimes he feels unfit to claim her or care for her like this. 

You should find someone your own age. Someone who isn’t growing so old so fast. 

Say that again and I’ll kill you, Joel.

He worries about her. He worries about what she’ll do if he dies or if he can’t get around, as well. 

Then I’ll protect you. Make up for all the times you kept me safe. 

You’ve saved me plenty, honey. 

He moves up her body, bracing one arm beside her head while his hand continues to work her into a frenzy. Her lips part, a sheen of sweat glossing her brow. He grins down at her, studying the way her expression wrinkles as he drives her toward pleasure.

“Look at me,” he orders and, immediately, she opens her eyes. She stares back at him, lashes fluttering as she makes a hungry, low noise at the back of her throat. “Good girl.” 

He feels her come around his fingers, clenching in soft, hurried spasms. He keeps his fingers inside her, slipping them deep before drawing them out in slow strokes. She’s dripping and he slides easily. Finally, she seizes his arm, nails biting into his flesh. 

“Too much?” he asks and she nods, mute and overwhelmed. 

“I think you could go again,” he argues before he’s climbing back down to the end of the bed. He presses his face against her, licks a stripe up her cunt that makes her shiver. She pulses like an irregular heartbeat. “Joel,” she sighs. 

It’s music to him.

[madwomansapologist]

like a virgin, like a prayer | shan yu

Navigation | More Shan Yu | AO3

synopsis: It's been months since you had agreed upon being his lover, and weeks since you truly became it. Now all you can think is about how much you want Shan Yu. All the time, in every way. And so does he.

warnings: smut. consensual/non consensual voyeurim. strip tease. exhibitionism. public nudity. public/non public masturbation. loss of virginity. gentle sex. oral sex. blood. size kink. shan "i will make it fit" yu. praise kink. creampie. age gap. kidnapping. shan yu (i need to respect my wife) x reader (just fuck me already, please). yandere!shan yu. female!reader. in this house we hate the misogynist version of Shan Yu in Mulan (2020).

A bird of prey. That's what he truly is. More than a warrior, than a strategist: Shan Yu is a watcher. He analyzes, observes. And when he find a focal point, he don't let it be. Just like his falcone, it's on his nature to watch when no one knows they're being watched.

And you're the object of his desires and curiosities. You're the mistery he can't seem to unravel. Every little thing you do, from the way you look at people to the things you say when you're alone with yourself, facinastes him.

After all, that's how he meet you. Watching you when you thought you were alone. That's how he fell in love. Watching your soul echoing through the woods. Apparently what people say is true. Old habits die hard.

Shan Yu wanted to get drunk on every aspect of you. The way you walk like you don't have time to waste. How you do your hair on the mornings. Which clothes can steal your interest when you're walking on a village. How sometimes you will randomly look at this sky, breath in, and come back to your routine.

He likes to know who you're when there is no one else around. Your reaction to the book you're reading when you're alone bellow an ash tree, how silence seems to restore your energy, how you can be really mad over little, insignificant things. Shan Yu wants to see you with no filters.

It's not his fault that he wants you whole.

Even thought you're his prisoner — now you wholeheartly agreed to be his bride —, you're a free spirit. He can see that by the way nature works on you. Shan Yu can take you from others, if it was on him no one would ever deserve the privilege of your presence, but there is a limit for the things he can take from you. And he would never take swimming away from you.

After your classes for war strategic, his guards make sure that you won't be bothered by anyone feeling stupid enough to mess with what belong to Shan Yu. You can have your fun for how long you desires, the only thing he asks is for you to eat from time to time. So for a couple of hours, is just you and the freedom water gives you.

And him, of course.

Watching from afar. It's like you're a deity. Shan Yu is on his way to conquer China, but if you asked him to conquer the sea it would be yours. It already is. He will just make others surrender to you.

The thing is that now you're aware of him.

Maybe at the beginning you weren't, but now you're familiar enough with the weight of his careful gaze. You can feel it burning your skin. Instead of being the object of his gaze, you feel like the watcher. Shan Yu observes you, just as you observe him. You like to play a little game: you put yourself on his place, and imagine what he's thinking about.

When you take care of your skin and he is so quietly doing nothing on the other side of the room, you like to imagine Shan Yu is trying to learn what to do if you ever ask him to help you. When you choose new clothes and you feel his eyes lingering on you from other side of the path, you like to pretend he's picturing you on them. When you read and he's hidden into the woods, you imagine him taking notes of what book he should gift you next. And when you're on a lake, you want Shan Yu to imagine you naked again.

Just as when he first meet you.

You don't swim without your clothes anymore, and you do it to make sure that his imagination will work on your favor. You ain't sure why, but him imagining you is way more interesting than him seeing you. To picture him picturing you is your little, constant sin.

But you would prefer if he joined you.

You miss his touch. Don't matter how long it have been since you were next to him, you miss Shan Yu. You always want him close to you. And when you miss him, the memories of your first kiss comes to haunt you.

It was an trap, one that his army fell right into. Usually the Hun army travels to battle, but this time it happened inside the camp. Kids, old people, workers that have nothing to do with that war: everyone was in danger.

Shan Yu knows you can fight, you train with his army, but that doesn't mean he will let you go with him to any battle. The thing is that this time he couldn't control the situation.

You wandered towards him, a sword in your hand and courage on your chest, knowing that he was doing the same.

Shan Yu kicked a man's legs, breaking it. His sword cut his throat open, but a scream came to his ears. When he turned, Shan Yu saw your sword passing throught a open chest. With blood staining your face, you let the body fall and looked at Shan Yu. "You're hurt?"

Shan Yu marched towards you, the world burning behind him, and pulled you by your waist. He almost took you off the ground, you supported yourself on him, and brushed the blood on your face. When he kissed you, it was like there were only you two in the world.

You felt his.

And now you want to be his. In every way. You'll never think that way if Shan Yu was a man from your village. You'll never be respected if you layed with someone before wedding them, don't matter how much you love one another or how bad you need to do that. That would never, ever happen.

But he isn't a man from your village. You're not there anymore. And you don't want to wait any longer.

When the camp was set close to a region filled with thermal water, you had an idea. Ond that you were too eager to ignore. Too hungry to not consider.

The guards walk you to a certain point, warning you that when the ring beels you'll have ten minutes to get there before they went looking for you. Feeling his gaze burning your skin, you did the rest of the path.

First you took your shoes off. You touched the water, it was so warm. So perfect. You carefully held the hem of your dress, pulling it out slowly. Step by step you dive into the water. With water brushing against your collarbone, you sat facing where you knew he was.

That was your invitation for Shan Yu to join you.

So you waited.

And waited.

But nothing happened.

Frustrated, you imagine what else would made him get of his secret place and just do something already. You closed your eyes, bite your lips, and then you found a answer.

Shan Yu makes you feel shiny and new. Free, but also owned. In control, and also controled. Shan Yu makes you fell like you have nothing to hide. So you didn't.

You weren't sure if he could see your fingers from so far away, so you made sure to keep your face still. You wanted him to see every fraction of a different expression. As your fingers pressed against your clit, for a second you felt like your moans could echo throught the whole wood.

After you came, your body shaking from pleasure and adrenaline, you dive into the water. You felt suddenly so embarrassed. Embarrassed for liking it so much. Embarrassed for not being even a little bit ashamed of what you just done.

You set a trap for him. Now it's with Shan Yu.

At dinner, you finally saw him. In a tent with all his generals, even when discussing important matters you could sense his eyes lingering on your skin.

"How long will we stay here?" You took a sip from your glass. "In this village."

Shan Yu breathe in before answering you. "Three more days."

You pouted. "What a shame. I liked this place. The woods here are so calm. And so lonely."

Shan Yu suddenly stand up, not worrying about excusing himself. You said something to the generals and asked one of his adivisors to take care for the rest of the night. Shan Yu was faster than you, but you saw him heading towards your shared carriage.

"Hey," you closed and locked the door. Shan Yu stopped in the middle of the room, his hands pressing against his head. Behind him, you put your hands on Shan Yu's shoulders, massaging his skin. "You're feeling unwell?"

Shan Yu sighed. You could feel his determination melting into your touching. It was a key to make him act as you wanted. All he wants is to be loved by you, and if you show him this love... "If only you knew the things you do to me."

You bit your lips, controling the smirk. "Are you mad at me, my sun?" You practically purred.

Shan Yu turned to you, his long hands holding your face. You felt so safe. So perfectly fine around him. "No, my moon," Shan Yu kissed your forehead. You almost felt guilty by teasing him so bad. "Never at you."

"Then I don't understand," you put your hands on his. "Why are acting this way? Maybe I can help you."

Shan Yu touched your forehead with his, and you closed your eyes. His breath was warm against your skin. You kissed his thumb.

"Drink with me."

You didn't knew if Shan Yu was asking or demanding. Either way, you nodded. You sat on your shared bed, and watched him serve you both from his personal wine.

"You told once me about a bad experience with a matchmaker," Shan Yu opened the bottle. He gazed over you for a second, then went back to the wine. "That made me wonder."

"About what?"

Shan Yu may be a lot of things, but he isn't a coward. He didn't fear your answer or your reaction, he wanted to hear the truth. So he asked for it. "You we're promised to someone?"

That wasn't what you were expecting to hear. "Yes," you admitted. "When I got old enough, my parents made a deal with his. We didn't got married because he was called to serve the emperor."

Shan Yu sat in front of you, handing you a glass. You took a sip of it, and hated the taste. Shan Yu like his drinks strong, but you prefer them sweet.

He caressed your feet, resting close to his thights. "Have you laid down with him?"

You tried the wine again. It was horrible still, but at least it had alcohol in it anyway. "Not with him," his fingers brushed against your legs. "Not with anyone else."

Shan Yu squeezed your skin lightly. "It's my duty to honor you, my moon." There were a different fire on his eyes. Something almost palpable. "Just as it's my duty to satisfy you."

"What you mean by that?" You knew exatcly what he meant.

"You're so young. It's normal for you to have needs. Desires," his cold fingers made to the sensitive spot behind your knees. "For you to want more from me."

"Is that why you are so nervous?" You drank the rest of the wine and put the glass on the floor. "Because you want more from me?"

Don't matter what, your words keep on surprising Shan Yu. You will never stop to amaze him. "Yes, my moon."

"If you want it so bad," you smiled. "Then take it."

Holding your legs, Shan Yu pulled you closer. He carressed your face, his fingers so cold against your skin. When he kissed you, all your worries and fears just disappeared. It was impossible to feel anything but love and lust.

His kiss moved to your chin, your cheeks, your earlobe. When you flinched, you felt his smile against your skin. Shan Yu kissed your neck, your shoulders, your hands.

Looking at you, glaring deep into your soul, Shan Yu made something burn inside you. You looked away, so he held you by your chin.

"Don't do that," Shan Yu brushed his fingers against your lips. "Let me see you."

"I don't know what to do," you revealed.

"You don't need to anything." Shan Yu carressed your face. "Come here," he tapped his thights. "Let me take care of you."

You crawled towards him, sitting on his lap. You supported yourself on your knees, your hands on his chest, not wanting to put all your weight on him.

Shan Yu grabbed your waist and pulled you down. He came back to kissing you, this time his hands wandering throught your body. One found a home on your hair, the other squeezed your waist. You put your arms around him, letting he get deeper into your mouth.

Shan Yu pulled the string of your clothes, revealing your body once again for him. His fingers brushed against your collarbones, circled your tits, held your hips. "The gods must envy your beauty," he whispered into your mouth.

He laid you down on the mattress. You felt weighless. So small in comparison to him. His hands went down your spine, nails scretching your skin lightly, and grabbed both of your legs. He opened them, and you never felt so exposed before.

One thing was to undress for him. Other was for him to undress you.

"Breath in," you did as he said. Shan Yu kneeled between your legs, and it was almost impossible to think. "Breath out," once again you behaved.

As his face got near your sex, his breath made you close your legs. He hold them, opening you for him again. He warned you with his yellow eyes.

Shan Yu licked you slowly. You trembled bellow him. His nose brushed against your lips, and you bite your fingers. He was so calm, so patient. His licked your lips, sucked your clit, used his tongue to stimulate you whole.

When you whimpered, Shan Yu got eager. He pulled you by your hips, getting you even closer, and his hands went up to your breasts. You moaned his name, and for a second he almost lost control.

He bite your inner thights, and then licked it. Your breath was already a mess. His tongue wandered through your tummy, your chest, your breasts. Shan Yu grabbed your hand, taking it off your mouth.

"I will hear you," he demanded. "Don't hide yourself."

You held him by his forearm. "I want you," you moaned. "Please."

Shan Yu could've cum just by the look on your face. "It will hurt," he said. As if you didn't knew. "You don't need to."

He closed his eyes, trying to regain control over himself. To feel your taste on his tongue, your smell on his upper lip, the warmth of you bellow him. Shan Yu felt like a starving man being welcomed home with a full supper.

But you are no something he wants to consume. Shan Yu wants to devour you, to know every inch of your skin and all that things that make your body tremble. But Shan Yu don't want to take from you something he will never be able to give you back just because he wants to. He needs you, but you need to be the one chosing to do this.

"I'll stop," he moved away from you. You felt incomplete without his weight upon you. "I must stop."

You put your legs around his hips, locking him with you. "Make me feel yours," you purred. Don't matter what you sounded like: were the one demanding now. You stroked his forearms, trying your best to find the words you need. "I'm starving. Don't go."

You had seem him shirtless before. At training, after a battle when blood stained his body, when he went to sleep. But to see him whole... that made you lick your lips.

He was big. So big. You almost regret ever doing that. But his cock also made you salivate, so you pretend that you weren't scared. You wanted him inside you. You wanted Shan Yu to make you whole.

Even if it hurts.

Shan Yu slid his cock on your lips, and you felt yourself getting wetter. So warm. It twitched against you. When he started to enter you, you closed your eyes. This time Shan Yu let it pass.

It burned. Your insides ache, and it's been just the beginning. He was so thick. After a few seconds without moving, Shan Yu tried again.

This time you whimpered. "Fuck," you cried. "Wait, I..."

"As you... wish," Shan Yu moaned against your neck. You were so tight. So warm. You would be the end of him. "Stop squirming."

"I'm sorry," you cried. You tried to move away from him, but Shan Yu held you in place. "I hurted you?"

He groaned. "No, my moon," he whispered. Shan Yu strucked the skin of your hips, trying to calm you down. He could already smell the blood. "Far from it."

You held his hands, trying to not get lost on your mind. "I don't think it will fit," you whimpered. "It's too big."

You really were trying to made him go crazy, weren't you? "I will make it fit."

After a few seconds, you nodded. Slowly, Shan Yu did as he said. He made it fit. And by doing that, he reached a point that even through all that pain made you roll your eyes. You tried to forget about that burning pain and focus on his cock pressing against that sweet point.

When his fingers brushed against your clit, you held him closer. Your nails digged into his back, and your teeths into his shoulders. Shan Yu didn't care about the pain. All he did was to hold your head as he moved slowly.

"I think I..." You couldn't do anything but to feel, and you felt so much. You were drooling. "Fuck, Shan Yu..."

"You were made for me," Shan Yu whispered into your ears. "Made for me to love, for me to fuck you."

Not a word he said made to your brain. You couldn't hear him. You couldn't do anything but to feel tortured by how he kept on hitting that spot again and again. If you cry, it won't because of the pain.

When you trembled, it was like you died for a second. The pleasure hit you in waves so much stronger than you. Maybe you cried his name. Maybe you screamed it. Maybe you bit your lips until they bleed. You don't know. All you know is that it was so good.

With you shaking bellow him, Shan Yu came inside you. He groaned like an animal, and maybe at that moment he really were one.

"I think I drooled all over you," you chuckled as you cleaned his shoulders with your hand.

Shan Yu held your hands and kissed them, looking deep into your eyes. "What do you need?"

"A bath," you carressed his lips.

Shan Yu watched as his cum covered your lips. Your used cunt glowed. Such a pretty sight.

He took you into his arms, your legs around his hips, and lift you from bed. You giggled, once again feeling so weighless around him.

"Then I shall bath you," he said softly.

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