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sophiamcdougall · 8 months

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I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

#story time

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rustedhearts · 8 months

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crush (college!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: academic distraction comes in the form of one tall, handsome brunet named steve.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ the scholar stud masterlist ✶ main masterlist

tags: college!steve, college!reader, fluff, a little cringe sometimes, steve's a cocky douche, smut!! silly ending because i just wanted to finish it.

a/n: why, yes. the notorious college steve has returned for this one day. i hope you enjoy his rebirth.

somewhere in indiana, october 1988. tillman university.

"And that concludes today's class. Folks, don't forget the exam tomorrow, bright and early eight a.m—"

The shuffle of notebooks and folders being swept from plastic desks drowned out the bellow of Professor Brown's instructions as the class scurried to leave. Everyone knew the pub just on the edge of campus was hosting 'Beer Olympics' tonight, and most of your classmates couldn't risk losing out on even one moment in that sticky, wood-paneled bar.

Including the handsome, silky-haired Steve Harrington, who sat in front of you and chewed on his pen for the entire hour of English 231: British Literature. At first, the incessant clicking of teeth against plastic and ink drove you insane.

But once, he whirled around when the cap went flying and landed on your desk, and the smile he passed you seemed sweet and bashful. The rosiness on his cheeks pretty, the hazel of his eyes against the fluorescents dreamy. He started murmuring to you during class discussions, begging for explanations on 'what the hell that Shakespeare guy was talking about.'

Steve Harrington might've shared a love for the stupid and the insane like the rest of the population on Tillman's campus, but he had the good grace to display it such a wonderful way that you didn't even mind.

You shuffled back to your dorm, bundled in a scarf and wool-lined coat, prepared to settle cozily into bed and study for tomorrow's test—your roommate, however, had other ideas.

"I need you to come with me," she whined as you removed your layers and tossed them on the bed. "This is my one chance for James to see how hot I am."

A cackle shot from your mouth, though you softened to pity as your roommate's shoulders drooped. James was her very own Steve: handsome, a year or two her senior, and a complete academic distraction. Her attempts to get his attention have lengthened weeks now, but all to no avail.

"I don't know...I have an exam tomorrow—"

"Oh, God, please," she groaned, falling back on her bed across the room. The springs yipped. "Chaucer is more important than the state of my love life?"

"What is the state of your love life?"

"Dead!"

You bit back a grin, swallowing all amusement when your roommate rolled onto her side and frowned at you. Like a little sister begging to be included, she rounded her eyes and jutted her lip.

"C'mon, please?" she whined. "You can bring your stuff to study, I'm sure there's a quiet corner. They have food, too! Come on, I'll buy you shitty bar wings!"

Eyeing her weepy, desperate eyes and your piles of highlighted notes, you mulled over the options with half-hearted sincerity. You were 95% sure you would ace this exam tomorrow, and the study session was for 'just in case.' Who were you to stand in the way of your roommate's apparent true love?

"And onion rings," you added.

Bouncing into a seated position, your roommate beamed and clapped her hands together sharply. "Anything."

✶ ✶

"Okay, here." Two plastic baskets of sticky barbecue wings and crispy, golden onion rings slid your way across a poorly-cleaned wooden hightop. "Are you good by yourself over here? I saw James by the pool table."

Grinning like a toddler with a treat, you reached for a wing with gentle fingers and nodded. "Yep, I'm perfect. Go get your man!"

Relief flooded her features, all dolled up and sparkly. She popped a quick kiss to your cheek and spun around, sweeping a hand over her hair to tame the frizz.

"Okay, I'm going in."

You watched her trot away in heels she could barely squeeze into with a giggle. She eased her way into a group of people near the pool table, lingering close enough to the blond-haired James without seeming desperate. You'd seen your roommate dizzy-headed around plenty of men before, but James turned her into something else.

The corner she found you was as quiet as a bar corner could be at eight o'clock on the night of a campus-wide event. Purses and backpacks piled in the corner of your booth, potently scented with sweet perfume and cigarette smoke. The lights were low back here, and most of your notes came scanned in the neon blue glow of the Budweiser sign hanging behind your head. Once your eyes adjusted to the hue, and the rowdy buzz of your peers faded away, you honestly found enjoyment in your little corner.

Until—

"Well hello, Oh studious one," a voice bellowed over the noise. "Didn't expect to see you here."

Steve Harrington, handsome, pink-cheeked, and a little bleary-eyed, sauntered toward your table with a beer in hand. He bent over your textbook, elbows creasing the onion skin pages, and flashed you a sideways grin. You thanked the blue lights for concealing the heat in your face.

"I'm quite surprising."

He chuckled, condensation dripping from the amber bottle in hand when he pointed the mouth of it toward the contents of your table. "And you're...reading. At a bar."

You clicked your pen, swiping a lukewarm onion ring from its basket. "I'm studying for our test tomorrow."

Steve lifted his gaze from the book, returning it to your face—his own blank and thoughtless. He's slow to lift the lip of the beer bottle to his mouth, and the swig he takes comes with furrowed brows.

The bottle pops away with a sharp release of suction. "Test?"

Giggling, you slap your hand onto your book. "Are you serious? Professor Brown just told us about it, like, four hours ago."

Steve straightened up, removing himself from your book. A large hand swept over the top of his hair, darkened with dampness from the exertion of Beer Olympic seriousness.

"Ohhh, that test," he snarked. "The test on...."

He trailed so far you worried he'd get lost, and as you tipped your chin down and fixed him with an incredulous look, you had mercy on him. "Chaucer."

Steve blinked again, eyes as glazed over and empty as a doe's. "Who?"

You succumbed to your amusement, a chorus of giggles bubbling over. "You're helpless."

Steve shrugged, cheek meeting his shoulder with an air of coolness. His body tipped sideways, one elbow returning to its place on your wrinkled pages to lean his weight on the table.

"Maybe so."

You took a small bite of your onion ring, which had lost all its crisp, and took your turn to blink blankly. But the boy was patient, knuckles rapping on the table in an offbeat tune as you lingered in the pause. Finally, overcome by his own impatience, Steve set his bottle on the table and slid even closer. You could feel the warmth of his body, exuding alcohol-laced sweat and a back alley cigarette soaked into the dampness of his t-shirt. Black cotton, thinned with sweat, drenched in leathery cologne applied hours ago.

"Maybe...you could help me then," he suggested, tone sauced with boyish charm.

Heat flooded your face like a dam bursting, rushing like a hot-blooded throb. You shifted on the sticky booth, boots clunking together beneath the table. The bits of soggy breading balled in your throat.

"I—" You swallowed, hands gripping the booth beneath you with urgency. "I-t-that could—"

Steve plucked his beer bottle from the table, sliding a step away from the table. His friends crowded around the pool table, where your roommate and her very own version of Steve were pressed against the wall, murmuring in close proximity.

"So, tomorrow?" He took another shuffled step back, a glint in his eye like he already knew his work was done.

He had you.

You swallowed again, tongue darting out to wet your dry mouth. "But...the test will be over by then."

Steve cupped his hand around his ear, eyes squinting as you grew smaller with every step back. "What? I can't—you're so far away! I can't hear you."

Amusement glimmered through, shattering your stunned stupor and bringing you back to life. Another mindless giggle tumbled from your mouth, and Steve savored it as he turned just enough to miss your pretty face.

"See you tomorrow!" he called.

You watched the plain of his broad back make its way into the crowd again, falling into a chorus of hoops and hollers and flushed, sticky bodies. You watched him douse himself in beer from a poorly-crafted beer bong held by a sloppy drunk. You watched him until you felt like a giddy schoolgirl, and did your best to return to your work and wait to take your leave.

And Steve stole glances when he knew you were no longer looking, hoping you'd really show.

✶ ✶

"I can't believe this is happening."

"I'm already nervous enough, please stop saying that."

"I'm sorry!" your roommate shrieked, hands slapping against her cheeks as she watched you fix your hair for the millionth time in the mirror on the floor. "I just...I just can't."

"Okay, but you can tell me if my outfit is good. Is it-is it okay? What does it say to you?"

You hopped to your feet, whirling around to show your carefully crafted outfit. You spent all night holding your roommate's hair back and pondering over your outfit in your head; daydreaming about what Steve would say once he had you in his dorm room, which he slipped by your table with beer-laced instructions to meet him at when the night dwindled down.

Now here you were, clammy palmed and losing your mind. Was this some sort of trick? A dare? Was he playing a joke on you?

“It says: ‘I want Steve Harrington to fuck me.’ But in a very chic, understated way.”

Huffing, you did your best to ignore the swirl in your belly at the thought of Steve mirroring your roommate’s beliefs.

“I’m leaving. You’re no help,” you half-heartedly scolded, swiping your bag on the way toward the door.

But if Steve Harrington wanted to fuck you, you certainly had no objections.

He had a sloppily scrawled sign on his dorm room door declaring it his place of residence (and whoever the hell Eddie Munson was). You swallowed as you brought your knuckles to the wood, smoothing your hair once more as footsteps shuffled behind it. It swung open with a gust of warm, woodsy air. His cologne filled the room like a potent candle, and you took a brief moment to suppress a cough before taking in his smooth, half cocked grin.

“Hey, pretty,” he drawled, leaning against the doorway with crossed arms.

Huffing a laugh, you fiddled with the strap of your bag over your shoulder. “Hi, Steve.”

Steve took a moment to drink you in, tongue inching between his lips to wet it as he shuffled back a step. His hand pushed the door open all the way, revealing a recently-cleaned bedroom adorned with two double-twins and a desk warm with amber lamplight. You immediately knew which posters were his—all sports related and signed.

“Come on in, get comfy.”

You took tiny steps inside, shivering when he breezed by in another whoosh of air to close the door behind you. The heat of his body, lingering close behind as you inspected the room, nipped at that gooey, mushy part of you that ached for him. The same part of you that rendered you a distracted, brainless mess in class when he spoke or flexed that strong arm with a grip around his pen.

“Thirsty?”

Whirling around, you found Steve standing near the desk, watching you with fixed and glinting hazel eyes.

Your face warmed twenty degrees. “Sorry?”

He motioned toward a mini fridge under the desk, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Something to drink?”

You breathed a laugh, swinging your bag off your shoulder. “Oh, um, sure.”

You had to look away when he bent to pull it open, the strain of tendons and cords of muscle in his tan, lean arms enough to make your mouth pool with water. Christ, you were ridiculous. You turned toward the dark, black fabric-clad side of the room where his roommate must’ve lived.

“So, um, the test was pretty easy this morning, but we can still—“

“Look at you. God, you’re so beautiful.”

The cold condensation of a Coke can pressing against your arm was the first to startle you—whirling around with a sharp-edged gasp. Then the sound of his words, rasped behind your ear, bringing goosebumps to your skin. His body, so close you could feel his warmth, smell the mint on his freshly-brushed teeth.

Standing this close, you could feel his breath tickle your cheeks, could see the shiny sheen of spit on his mouth from his tongue.

"W-what?"

Steve just shook his head, a dumfounded wonderment glistening in his eye. "You heard me."

Your jaw slackened, lips parting to utter some stupefied response, mind turning to soupy mush at the sudden proximity. Before you could even attempt some silly, bashful disagreement, Steve collected your chin in his hand. Pinched between gentle fingers, he guided your mouth up to his own until their softness touched.

The Coke can clattered to the ground and rolled toward the desk as his mouth closed over yours. You perked on your toes, fingers curling into fists as they lifted toward his shoulders, broad and firm. You couldn't believe this was happening. You always thought he tossed you looks during class, that he might've lingered a little too long when he walked to his desk just to watch you sit there.

You never imagined it could be true. That Steve Harrington wanted you the way you wanted him.

“You could’ve,” an interruption of kisses stopped you short, the click of spit and lips echoing off cinderblock, “at least…mm, pretended—oh! T-to study.”

“Couldn’t wait,” Steve mumbled against your mouth, teeth scraping your bottom lip, breath hot against your tongue.

Arousal flushed hot in your body, stomach squeezing in time with the fluttered successions of excitement provoked by his roaming hands. They stroked down your arms and toward your waist, slipping through the curves to hold you firmly. Another gasp bled into his open mouth when he tugged you close.

"This is so much better than Chaucer," he breathed, mouth sliding over your lips to your cheek where he pressed a firm and sloppy kiss.

"Mhm," you pipped dazedly, head tipping to follow his affections.

Thighs bumping the edge of the bed, you allowed Steve to guide you onto the black duvet of the mattress behind you. It rumpled with the hurried shuffle of bodies climbing over. Steve tugged you by the calves when you met the pillow, pulling you flat beneath him. He dipped with eager excitement to collect another kiss as your thighs bookended his hips.

"Test was already graded," Steve muttered, nudging your jaw with his nose to move it aside and fit his head in your neck. "Got...mm...eighty-five."

Heaving for air, you ruffled your fingers through the thickness of his hair: soft and slipping between your hands like silk. Blinded by the tingling buzz reverberating through your bones, you could barely form a thought, let alone a sentence aloud. Steve's lips suctioned to the column of your throat, and your body gave a jolt.

"Th-thought you didn't know anything."

Steve chuckled, and the sound grumbled through you like a firework. You gave another jerk, fingers twisting in his hair, hips canting up against the firmness of his jeans.

"M' not stupid," he mumbled into your neck, nipping with gentle teeth at your earlobe. "Just so distracted. Can't stop thinkin' 'bout you behind me."

"Oh, Steve," you scoffed, eyes opening blearily to blink at the tiled ceiling, browned with old water stains. His hair tickled your cheek, cologne bathing you in masculine comfort.

Steve lifted his head, peering down at you with rosy cheeks and swollen lips. "You don't believe me?"

You let your hands fall from his hair, smoothing over the firmness of his shoulders. The stretch of your thighs around him began to burn in the most delicious way, and the tufts of chest hair slipping from his grey t-shirt made you shift on the bed. You wanted him. Like a mad woman, some nymphomaniac, lust-ridden fiend.

"I don't know," you sighed, running a finger down his chest. "Let's just...talk about it later."

Steve watched you a moment, eyes scanning your face with scrutiny. When heat swelled in your flesh, his lips coiled into a grin, eyes alight with amusement.

"Ohhh, I see. Poor little baby just can't wait. Y' want me, pretty girl?"

You bobbed your head fervently, the beginning of a pout even toying with your lips. He rendered you ridiculous and stupid, and later, you might've even felt embarrassed about how easy it was for Steve Harrington to have you whining.

But right now, all you cared about were his hands, big and rough and warm to the touch, taking off your shirt.

"Don't worry, honey," Steve cooed breathlessly, eyes traveling to the newly exposed flesh. "You've got me."

As his hands explored and grabbed at flesh, your own slipped beneath the thin fabric of his shirt, splaying over the soft skin beneath. He was quick to shed himself of the layer, and you did your best to admire the build revealed as he trailed kisses between your breasts. He led them all the way down to your navel, and then over the curve of flesh leading to the waistband of your pants. Steve hooked his fingers in the belt loops and tugged harshly, practically ripping them from your thighs and down over your feet.

He captured his lip between his teeth as he settled between your legs again, fingers pinching and kneading at the flesh like soft dough. "And I've got you. Ain't that right?"

You grew dizzy with your nodding, so petulantly desperate and pleading. Steve grinned at it, index tracing the lace of your underwear with explorative wonderment as he watched your eyes well up. He was certain if he prolonged your pleasure any more, he'd have you weeping.

"Don't cry, honey," he soothed, peeling your panties off by the lace band. "Steve's gotcha."

In the back of your mind, you rolled your eyes and giggled at the ridiculous confidence Steve seemed to think he could get away with—but in reality, you were too busy lifting your hips to meet Steve's fingers, brushing just gently over your core as he undid his belt with the other hand. The buckle clinked and clunked with a toss, clattering to the tile floor somewhere near Steve's side of the room, where your backpack and all its contents spilled in the erotic chaos of Steve's impatience.

When the pair of you were bare, Steve breached the distance—flesh on flesh exuding heat that glistened in a haloed sheen. His mouth worked over yours a while longer, melting you down just a little more into absolutely nothing. Hands coaxing your limbs to release their tensions, your muscles to relax and ease into him. You trusted him more than anything, warmed by his gentle affections. No man had ever been so sweet and slow.

The crinkle of foil came like tv static, muffled and low. And then something larger than his fingers was brushing your core, slipping through the slickness pooling. He rubbed the tip along your most sensitive, delicate spot just enough to have you whimpering and twisting, before sliding into your entrance with slow, meticulous purpose.

Steve groaned as he pushed further, forearms planted on either side of your head. Your thighs quaked against his ribs, hoisted high and holding on tight. You reached for his hair again, desperate for more of him.

"You okay, honey?" Steve mumbled against your cheek, fanning hot breath into your ear.

You shivered at the grumble of his voice rattling through you, nodding once more. "Y-yeah. Keep going, please."

He huffed a chuckle, shifting his hips to push a little deeper and revel in the gasp you shot out.

"Please," he mocked, kissing your damp cheek. "So sweet."

When he sank in completely, you could've sworn you saw the light. A burning sting that had you writhing crawled through your thighs and up your back, settled even deep in your stomach where the thickness of him rested. He nuzzled into your neck with a low grunt of relief, giving you the space of his back to run your fingers down and kiss mindlessly. Steve seemed to be no better, losing himself in the warmth of your body wrapped around him.

"Steve, please."

Your voice stirred him from his hazy, lust-drunk stupor; he quickly readjusted to lift off his arms.

"Shh, shh, 've got you."

Like revving an engine, Steve gave a few short thrusts before settling into a pace of slow, deep humps that came like timed successions. You gasped and groaned with every one, nails biting into the warm, clammy skin of his shoulders. Once he knew you were satisfied and free of discomfort, Steve took his moment to brush your hair out of your face with a heavy, sweeping palm. He peppered kisses all over your face, delicate brushes of his mouth over your eyelids and nose, firmer across your mouth and cheeks.

Who knew Steve Harrington would be so sweet?

“Knew you’d feel so good,” he whined into your ear, pace quickening a bit with eagerness.

“So good,” you parroted, a high pitched and nasally lilt congealing your voice.

But he was just that good.

The room quieted to a blend of slick skin clicking and the bated, hoarse breaths of erotic thrill. You weren’t sure how long it truly went on, but the world just fell away around you. Blackened in a vignette of vision, hazed over with heavenly satisfaction. Your body buzzed in some muffled, distant way—you felt like just a mind in a body, being taken away. It was hard to focus on anything other than Steve, rocking into you and leaving kisses on your neck.

When your hiccuped breath shifted to sharp mewls, clawed from somewhere deep in your chest, Steve reared back and steadied his hands on your hips. He slowed to a glacial pace, watching his own cock prod at the flesh beneath your navel, your own slickness gather at his pelvis. He brought his thumb to your clit, pressing firmly into the delicate nub to focus a gentle, circular massage. You twisted and writhed like a woman enraged with demonic possession, and your grip on his forearms felt like something out of The Exorcist.

But it was all worth it to watch your face balloon with heat, flooding every vein with scorching pleasure until air became nothing but a lifeline. Steve was glad to even press pause on his own pleasure just to see you summit. Your chest trembled with a quaking roar, limbs succumbing to weakness in the daze. Vision clouded with grey static, streaked with a pool of tears.

When you were positively spent, Steve carefully unsheathed, squeezing his fist around his cock with firm pressure and bringing it to hover over your stomach.

“This okay, sweetheart?” he managed to grit out, neck bulging with veins, cheeks growing red.

You could barely nod, swiping your hand through the thin layer of sweat along his arm. “Uh-huh.”

“Oh God—fuck, fuck, fuck.”

Warmth splattered across your abdomen, like a gentle flicker of water across your skin. The squelching sound of Steve fucking his fist died down, mirroring the dwindle of moans and groans from the boy himself. He fell forward heavily, catching himself with one hand beside your head. His nose brushed your cheek, catching his breath against the clammy skin.

“Christ,” he heaved, jutting a lazy kiss to the corner of your mouth. “We owe Chaucer a big one.”

Before you could giggle or scoff, the door swung open with a chittering screech. Steve scrambled to grab the comforter and shield your bare, sticky bodies, both your heads snapping toward the doorway as a shaggy-haired boy stomped through: his roommate.

“Harrington, what the fuck?”

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starcrossedxwriter · 6 months

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Princess’s Punishment (MBJ x Reader)

A/N: I didn’t have the energy to go back and find the two asks lol but this is a request from two folks for a kinky punishment story with. So enjoyyyy!

Warnings: degradation, name calling, NSFW, lots of kinks (spanking, cockwarming, etc)

***

“What do you think?” You gave her fiancee a model-like twirl so he could examine your outfit from all angles.

Michael glanced up from his phone and the email he was typing, letting out a low whistle as his eyes swept over your perfect frame.

“That dress gon’ get you into trouble, Princess.”

You threw him a coy smile before turning back to the giant mirror in the middle of the store. You were the only customer there, Michael preferring to reserve stores for an hour or two so you could have a private and serene shopping experience. It ensured everyone in the store was solely dedicated to getting you exactly what you needed and wanted. Most stores happily obliged, knowing that anytime Michael brought his princess in, the limit on his card was nonexistent. Today was no different.

“That looks great on you,” a man offered as he emerged from the back of the store. His dreads were neatly pulled back out of his face. He was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, the exact type of man who would have once turned your head before you met Michael, the love of your life. But no one compared to the literal sexiest man alive in your eyes and that was a fact.

You had never seen him in the store before but when the woman you typically worked with didn’t return, you realized he would be assisting you.

“Hope you don’t mind. Jenn had a family emergency. I’m Marcus,” he reached out to shake your hm which you accepted with a bright smile.

“Nice to meet you. Y/N,” you introduced yourself before turning back to the mirror, your hands running over the luxuriously soft material that hugged your curves. “Not sure this is the most flattering though.”

“I have another dress in the back, we just got it in. Similar to this one but it’s perfect for you. Will be far more flattering. A body like that… you should show it off.”

You did not pick up on the obvious flirting in his tone, particularly as that was the farthest thing from your mind. You merely nodded with a smile. “Thank you. That would be great. Can’t wait to see it.”

“I’ll bring that and a couple other pieces. We technically aren’t supposed to show them yet but for a friend,” he winked at you. “I can bend a few rules.”

“Really??” You were merely excited about getting an advanced look at your favorite store’s new pieces.

“Of course. Be right back.”

“Thank you!” You watched him for a few moments as he walked away before turning to Michael whose face was set in a scowl. “Everyone here’s so nice all the time.”

“That nigga’s nice cause he wants to fuck you,” Michael grumbled, his tone signaling that he was not as pleased with the service as you.”

Your jaw fell open before you laughed at the absurdity of the idea. Men rarely flirted with you, if ever. “Come on, baby. Don’t be silly. He wants us to spend money, likely to make his commission better so he’s just being extra complimentary.”

“Nahhh, I watched him basically undress you with his fuckin’ eyes, Princess. Besides, I’m the one payin’ and nigga didn’t say shit to me. Acted like I’m not even here. I don’t like him.”

You merely laughed, clearly not realizing that Michael was genuinely upset with the salesman. “Aww my grumpy baby. You don’t like anyone,” you teased before disappearing into your dressing room to try on more outfits.

Outfit after outfit, you pranced around for your boyfriend and gave him a fashion show. He was thoroughly unhelpful as he loved 95% of the items you tried on and refused to help you narrow down the massive stack of clothes. Anytime you went shopping, he thought you should buy everything you remotely liked, even if you had one exactly like it in the closet at home.

“What do you think? Don’t need both black dresses,” you muttered more to yourself than either man in the room.

“You look perfect in both. Just get both.”

“Not helpful, babe!”

“I think you should get the one you have on. Shows off your body better.”

“You commentin’ on her body a lil too much, my nigga,” Michael called out, clearly frustrated by Marcus’ innocent compliments toward you as you finished trying on clothes.

“Michael!” You whipped your head around in shock at his rudeness. “Sorry, he gets very grumpy when we’ve been shopping too long.”

“No apologies needed,” he raised his hands in surrender before making an excuse to go to the back of the store to get her something else.

You scoffed once he was gone, you and Michael having a silent standoff.

“That was hella rude,” you chastised him.

Michael merely shrugged “Hella rude for him to openly flirt with my girl in front of me. He bold enough for that shit, he’s bold enough to take the heat.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Nah and what were you doin’? Flirting back with that nigga.”

You let out a laugh at the absurdity of that statement. “Flirting back?? It’s called being nice. I only got eyes for one, very jealous man.”

And with that, you disappeared back into the changing room to put back on your real clothes. You could not understand what was up with Michael as of late. He seemed to be so much more jealous than he used to be lately, snapping or glaring at any man who got too close or talked to you for too long. He had done the same thing at a premiere just last week. You had chalked the first couple times up to him having a bad day but now you wondered if something else was wrong.

“You ok?” You asked as you both patiently waited for Marcus to package your mountain of clothes and accessories.

His eyebrow was furrowed with an angry expression on his face. Still packing most of the weight of Erik Killmonger, he looked intimidating to say the least. But you did not understand what he could be that upset about, nothing had even happened.

He did not answer you, merely handing Marcus his card to finish paying.

“Need help getting these to your car?” Marcus asked, his hands already preparing to grab the heavy garment bags and smaller shopping bags

“That would be g-” you started to say when Michael immediately cut you off.

“Nah we got it.” His short tone made you cringe slightly, Marcus’s face blanching at the rudeness of it.

He gestured for his security to pick up the bags and grabbed the rest himself before gesturing for you to exit the store. You merely offered a polite thank you before following him out of the store.

***

As soon as you walked into the house, you started up the stairs to put your new items in their proper spots when he stopped you.

“Princess!”

“What’s up, babe?”

His tone and face looked almost bored as he scrolled on his phone. “When you’re done, assume the position by the counter.”

Your eyes grew wide with surprise. Assume the position was a clear directive in the Jordan household, one that let you know the relaxing evening you had planned was not going to happen. A sign that you had upset your master, and thus, must be punished.

“What did I do??” The logical part of your brain was well aware he was not going to tell you. If your infraction was not obvious, he rarely told you what it was until the punishment had started. But as you racked your brain, you could not understand what on Earth you did to upset him. You had a really nice day together and aside from the weird interaction with the sales associate, he seemed fine. Then it clicked in your brain.

His jealous streak seemed to not have ended earlier, after all.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out. 10 minutes.”

He did not spare you another glance before he disappeared toward the living room, leaving you gawking after him on the stairwell.

“Fuck my life,” you muttered as you raced up the stairs. You completely disregarded your original mission of putting your clothes away, you did not have time for that.

Instead, you stripped down to nothing and pulled your braids out of their high ponytail. You went to your drawer and pulled out the various things you knew were required: your collar and leash, nipple clamps, flogger, blindfold, and ball gag. He did not always use them all and sometimes he used none of them. But that was another thing for him to know and you to find out.

You descended down the stairs, your entire body almost floating with anticipation. You knew whatever he had planned would be the most delicious form of torture and that he would fuck you senseless once you begged for his forgiveness enough.

Michael was leaning against the counter, scrolling on his phone as he waited. Ingredients for dinner laid out on the counter.

“Thinkin’ short ribs for dinner. Cool?” He asked, his voice completely calm and normal despite what you knew was about to happen. The sweet, doting finace who cared what you wanted for dinner would disappear and a new persona would take over.

“Sounds good. Thanks, babe.”

“You ready, Princess?” he asked, checking in as he always did before an intense punishment or scene, which you always appreciated. They were punishments but they were supposed to be pleasurable, in a way, for you too.

“Yes, daddy,” you answered immediately, handing him all the toys you brought with you before sinking down to your knees before him. You spread your legs just enough for your flower to be on display for him, already wet and aching for his rough touch in the mere minutes he left you. The chill of the house caused the hair on your arms to stick up but you ignored it, things would heat up in a few minutes.

You wanted to smirk as you watched his eyes cloud with lust but you kept your face neutral. Michael was gone and your master stood in front of you. And his perfect, submissive fuck toy replaced you, designed and ready for whatever pain or pleasure he was generous enough to offer. And the growing ache between your thighs revealed a simple truth: you loved every single second of being his slut.

Your eyes remained trained on the wood panels of the kitchen floor as he silently studied you. The minutes stretched on and on at an agonizing pace but you did not lift your head or move an inch. However, you could not stop the little sigh of relief that passed your lips when you finally saw his feet come into your line of vision.

His hand wrapped around your throat, your mouth falling open with a small moan as he squeezed. It was not hard, just enough to let you know he was there. More, you wanted to beg. That was the problem, it did not matter what he did. You just wanted more of it and more of him. You were so addicted to the drug that was Michael, it felt like a lifetime supply would not even be enough.

His hand forced your head upward so you were looking directly into his expressive brown eyes, your favorite part of him. This position could have had you cumming right then.

All you could think about was how good it felt to have his hand squeezing your throat while you rode his dick. The mere memory made your pussy clench. But that was not in the cards for you… not yet anyway.

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you?” He knew everything about his little fuck toy, exactly what his Princess wanted and needed. And there was not a man alive who knew it better. “Such an eager fuck toy for me. That’s why you were tryin’ on all those slutty clothes today? Think you’d get my attention and I’d come back here and fuck you like the attention-seeking whore you are?” He asked as he let go of your throat, much to your sadness, and started circling you. A predator sizing up his prey, indeed.

You were not foolish enough to answer a single question he levied, they were rhetorical.

“But I wasn’t the only man whose attention you got. Bet you loved that shit too… his hands on you fixing your outfits, complimenting you. Flirting with him, accepting his help right in front of your master. I should’ve fucked you right there in front of him to remind you that there’s only one man whose attention you should want.”

The thought of that made your head spin. Him forcing you to your knees in the dressing room, fucking you from behind, claiming you and your body loudly for every person to hear.

He gently put your collar around your neck, the fur lining made it more comfortable than it would have been otherwise. It was custom, Princess Y/N, embroidered on it.

“Too tight?” he asked as he attached the leash to it.

“No master,” you muttered.

“Good.”

He tugged on it, forcing you in step behind him. You bit back the moans this caused, him walking you around your living room and kitchen for a few minutes. He knew how much you loved to crawl behind him. It was clear he was trying to ramp you up as much as possible before the punishment truly started. And it was working perfectly.

By the time you returned to the spot you started at in the kitchen, your knees in pain from the hardwood floor, your body was screaming for his touch. Your core felt painfully empty, you were desperate to feel him on you, inside you. He slid the blindfold over your eyes.

You whimpered for a moment at the sudden loss of sight, sensory deprivation was a new game for you both and you were still getting used to it.

“Say the word and the blindfold can come off, Princess,” he whispered. At your nods, he continued. “Face down, ass up. Legs spread. Don’t move a muscle.”

You adjusted yourself to assume his favorite position. You hissed as your upper body laid against the cool kitchen floor but you made sure the arch in your back was perfect, your ass perched high in the air. Your legs were spread enough for him to see the glistening mess coating your inner thighs.

“You disgustin’ cum slut. Crawlin’ like a whore made you that wet?” He degraded you, making your entire body shudder as his hands caressed your ass.

“Yes daddy,” you breathed out, your brain already losing the ability to fully form words. The fog of pleasure was already heavy and he had not even started. “I-I’m sorry.”

You tensed up sightly, knowing that when you least expected it, his caresses would turn into sharp blows that would make you cry out. However, just as quickly as he started touching you, he stopped. You could not feel his presence around you at all. You had not been given permission to move and you could not see him. You could not even sense where he was anymore.

Had he left you there? Naked and unable to move like a statue? After a few moments, you heard soft footsteps not far away, causing you to exhale slightly. He was still hovering around.

Minutes passed by, slower than you thought time could move, as he just left you there without a single touch or word. But you followed directions, your legs would literally collapse before you moved a muscle.

Your mind raced to understand why he was not punishing you. And after about 15 minutes of utter silence except for the sounds of him cooking, you longed for it. The sting of his palm, the fire of the flogger against your ass, your thighs, your back, literally anywhere at this point. But there was nothing. This was more of a punishment than the spanking. If you had been given permission to speak, you would have begged for your own torture at this point, would have begged for as many lashings as he felt you deserved for being such a shameless whore. But you could do nothing, nothing but sit with shaking legs in your disorienting haze of pleasure until he decided that you were worth even doling out a punishment on.

It was clear to you why he chose that particular spot, a spot you knew was visible to him regardless of where he stood in the kitchen. You were on display.

At that realization, you deepened the arch in your back to something you didn't even know was possible. You had to force yourself not to wiggle your ass in his face, entice him to light it on fire with his strength.

“Couldn’t even last 15 minutes without daddy’s attention, could you?” You were not sure if you were allowed to answer. “You may speak, Princess.”

“D-daddy pl-please…” you begged.

“Didn’t seem to care about me earlier. Why should I give you attention now?”

“B-Because… I need…” your words failed you. You needed so much in that moment. You needed the pain, you needed the pleasure it brought, you needed to be reminded what you were and whose you were.

“You need what? Need me to make you cum? You’ll be grateful if I let you cum at all tonight. Need me to fuck you like the cumslut you are? Not sure you deserve my dick. Or you need me to remind you what happens to disobedient fuck toys who anger their masters? Need me to remind you who owns you?”

“Y-Yes! P-Please… I d-deserve to be punished. I n-need it.” The words barely left your lips before you felt the first blow of the flogger against your ass. “T-Thank you,” you moan, savoring the sting and ache it left behind.

However, you could not savor it long as he rained them down on every inch of your ass and thighs and a couple well-placed agonizing ones against your pussy that made you scream. You kept count, as was already required.

“Keep your legs open, slut or I’ll add five more,” he demanded as your entire body convulsed as the flogger caught part of your clit. You forced your body to maintain the position, which took all your willpower. And to think, you begged for this.

Tears were streaming down your face when he reached 29. That was the most he had ever done with the flogger as it was more painful than his hand and it was torture. However, you took it, the desire to use your safeword never coming to your mind. You would not be able to sit tomorrow but your entire body was on fire, hot, sweaty and desperate for him to fuck the shit out of you.

When you finally said 30, you were proud of yourself for taking all of it like a champ.

“That’s a good slut. You should see your ass right now,” he muttered. “So beautiful.” You could only imagine your entire body was completely red and you could feel a couple welts from where he punished you in the same spot over and over again. “You may sit up.”

You whimpered as you stretched and moved out of your position, your muscles protesting. As you sat up, his hand cupped your cheek and wiped away the few falling tears.

“Too much?” he asked quietly.

“No sir. T-thank you for r-reminding me what I am,” you whisper.

He helped you to your feet, your legs shaking slightly.

“Let’s watch somethin’ on the tv. Short ribs are slow cookin’.”

Despite the pain in your body, you could not help but smile. This was what made the punishments worth it, this moment. You were happy he let you walk to the couch, giving you a chance to stretch your legs. You stood and watched, licking your lips as he stripped off his clothes before sitting down, his head dripping with pre-cum that made you want to sink to your knees and steal a taste. You licked your lips, longing clearly written on your face that made Michael want to chuckle. He knew how much his Princess loved servicing him on your knees.

“Don’t even think about it. Worthless cunts who can’t remember who they belong to don’t get a taste. Why?”

“Because servicing you is a reward and I don’t deserve a reward, daddy,” you mumbled quietly, your voice just as lost and pitiful as you felt. This was the point of punishment though because all you now wanted to do was assure him you were his perfect, obedient princess so you could be rewarded.

“Good girl. Earn my forgiveness and maybe I’ll fuck that sweet mouth before bed tonight. Now for your punishment…”

Your eyes grew wide. The last 30 minutes had not been the punishment??

Fuck my life.

“Climb up here and sit on my dick. Facing the tv.”

You practically catapulted onto his dick without hesitation. Not just because good girls did what they were told without hesitation but because this was your type of punishment. RIding his dick was your favorite pastime.

You slid down on his hard dick, moaning loudly as he filled you to the brim. It was not the orgasm your body desperately needed but it satisfied the overwhelming, blinding carnal need to be filled you felt. You immediately started rocking your hips to increase the friction and pleasure when a powerful and painful swat against your already bruised ass stopped your movements.

“I didn’t tell your dumb ass to move. Seems like you keep forgetting I own you Princess. This pussy… this body… it’s all mine. And no one else gets to touch what’s mine, no one else controls what’s mine. So you’re gonna sit there on my dick and you’re not gonna move until I tell you to. When I tell you to ride my dick, you do it. When I tell you to stop, you fuckin’ stop. Understand?”

“D-Daddy please?” you hoped your pleas for mercy and the soft puppy eyes you had on would be enough to soften his resolve. Of all the things he had forced you to do since walking in the house, this was the worst of them. To feel him inside you and be so close to bringing him the pleasure he deserved and you desperately needed but not be allowed to?

Fuck my life.

“You should be thankin’ me for even letting your worthless cunt warm my dick. Now sit there and watch the show,” he nodded toward the tv where an episode of both of your favorite anime was playing.

You moaned and turned around, trying to keep your attention focused on the show in front of you. However, it was impossible.

This was an utterly new sensation and, while it was torturous, you could not deny that it was pleasurable in its own way.

Michael’s girth and length was something to be reckoned with and he knew how to use it. His dick perfectly curved into your g-spot and could have you cumming with a few strokes. As you sat on him, his hands occasionally wandered to caress your other pleasure zones. His strong hands massaged your inner thighs causing you to moan.

You wondered if you could orgasm from just sitting there. You would not because you did not have permission but you wondered if it was possible. Because between his hands and the feel of him inside you, you could think of nothing else. You could feel every inch of him, his dick throbbing and pulsing like a heartbeat against your walls.

Your body squirmed in his touch, your moans as he played with your body were consistent, particularly when he brushed against your clit. He offered a featherlike touch, it was barely there but you were so worked up, you felt every jolt of pleasure through your body magnified.

Your pussy clenched around him as if silently begging him to move. But you knew he would not allow you to until he was ready.

He worked up a rhythm against your clit, your movements becoming more uncontrolled, your breaths heavier. You weren’t gonna last long like this.

“Whose pussy is this, Princess?”

“Yours, daddy. Only y-yours.”

“Who can bring you pleasure like your master?”

“N-No one. J-just you.”

“Never forget that shit, understand?”

You nodded fervently. Every punishment had a lesson and this one was etched into your brain matter as now was the feeling of every vein and inch of his dick.

“I w-won’t! I promise, daddy.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your bare back, increasing the speed of his fingers. “Cum on my dick, Princess.”

With permission to cum, you stopped holding back and allowed your body to feel everything. Fuck his fingers knew exactly what buttons to push as your body finally got the pleasure it needed for the last hour. The build up was so fast you barely got to enjoy it but you did not care, you needed the crash, the fall to drown in the pleasure only he could provide. And when you reached the peak, you crashed hard.

“You like that, baby? You gon’ cum for daddy?”

“Y-Yes… fuck… t-thank you!” you cried out as you threw your head back as an explosion of pleasure took over every inch of your body. You felt pleasure down to the very cells that made up every part of you.

You gasped as Michael’s hand wrapped around your long hair and gripped it, pulling you backward. He turned you so his mouth could claim yours, drowning out your moans and cries with a kiss so dominating you never wanted it to end.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised, causing your heart to soar. “You’ve earned my forgiveness. Ride.”

You did not need to hear anything else as you started to ride him with abandon, moaning every time his head rammed into your g-spot. You’d cum again before this was over but you made it your personal mission to ensure he did too. You pulled out every trick and play you had in the book until you felt his hands dig into your hips and he started ramming into you.

You let him take control as he fucked you like a rag doll, ignorning the ache of your bruised ass and thighs as he slammed into them with every thrust upward. He kept you flush to his chest with one hand wrapped tight around your neck, the gentleness of his choking earlier long gone.

“Where you want it?” he demanded as you felt the signs of him about to cum.

“Cum inside me, please!” you begged. Michael knew you had a bit of a breeding kink, loving the feeling of him filling you with his cum. That was often another punishment when he would cum on you instead of inside you. Not that him marking his territory was really a punishment.

“Want me to fill this sweet cunt, baby??”

“Yes! Please, please!” you begged as he fucked you so hard you felt as if you would be seeing stars for hours.

You could not stop your body from convulsing as you felt the warmth of his cum surge inside you, you clenched around him.

Your legs burned as you used your arms, braced on his knees to stop your upper body from toppling forward. He rubbed soothing patterns along your spine to calm you. Michael pushed you to your limit every time but he also knew how to take care of you afterward.

He lifted you off of him, a slight whimper escaping your lips at the emptiness you suddenly felt. He only sat you down long enough to stand up himself and you were quickly back in his arms, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he carried you up to your master suite.

He laid you on the bed and got some soothing lotion and started massaging it everywhere the flogger hit you. You shuddered at the cool feeling but it felt heavenly combating the stinging you still felt and soreness you knew you would still feel tomorrow.

“You did so good for me, Princess,” he offered, your sweet Michael clearly having returned to you.

That was all you needed to hear, that you had pleased him.

“Thank you.” Your gratitude was muffled against the comforter of your shared bed. After a few moments of silence, you sat up and glanced back at him. “You know you’re it for me, right? Don’t have eyes for anyone else.”

“Yea I know… sometimes I just worry…” his voice trailed off.

You ignored the ache to shift over to him and straddle his waist, his hands resting on your hips. “You’re always reassuring me, sometimes I forget you need that too. You are the greatest thing that ever happened to me. It’s you and me till the end of the line, babe.” You teasingly peppered his face with kisses until he finally smiled and started laughing.

“You and me, baby.”

“But anytime you wanna get a little jealous and possessive and it leads to that? Feel free,” you joked, the scene still dominating every space in your mind. At your words, you suddenly became hyper aware of his member pressed against your core and instinctively started grinding on top of him.

“Princess,” he growled. “This time ain’t about me,” he reminded her. Aftercare was about you and he was committed to it.

“How much time do we have till dinner?”

“Two hours.”

“Enough time for you to teach me my lesson again and then take care of me. Don’t think it quite stuck,” you shrugged nonchalantly, taking on your bratty persona to rile him up.

You shrieked as he flipped you over onto your back and stood up. Master was back and he was ready to make the most of those two hours.

***

A/N: Thanks for reading!! My requests are open if you have more asks/requests… just know that it takes me a while lol

Drop a comment and let me know what you thought :)

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #black panther #michael b jordan fanfic #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii

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kitthepurplepotato · 4 months

Text

🎄Love letters and mistletoes!🎄

Purple Potato Christmas Special!

~•🥦•~

Pairing: Midoriya Izuku x Reader

Genre: One shot - Fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, hint of angst on Izuku’s side (five sentences max)

Summary: With Izuku’s favorite holiday approaching, you decide to give your work partner a present he’ll never forget. Is that a good or a bad thing? - we shall see.

Warnings: Swear words, mention of someone getting hurt, Midoriya is quite depressed at the beginning of the story.

Two more warnings: The story is really fluffy and cute but it’s quite melancholic overall, except the ending!

Also, English isn’t my first language so please be kind! Feel free to send me a message if I messed something up really badly!

If you like the story please check my Master List! 🥦

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

“Merry Christmas, everyone!” Midoriya Izuku raises his glass of orange juice with a proud smile on his face. “Thank you very much for your hard work, as always. I’m so lucky to have you, guys.”

“Cheers, boss!” Your half-drunk colleague yells, making the whole team and Midoriya giggle with his shenanigans.

There is one thing everyone knows about the “boss”; he’s humble to a fault. Whenever something good happens it’s always his agency who gets the praise; Izuku Midoriya can’t take a compliment to this day and he just makes everything sound like a team effort even though he’s the one doing 95% of the job, saving people back and forth, 7 days a week with no holidays in between but he never even complains once.

Well, not in public. He doesn’t complain to anyone but you and that’s the biggest achievement of your whole life, to be honest.

You started working at Midoriya’s agency when you were twenty; pro hero Deku was already a big name back then. He was just about to open his own agency but he had no idea about the business side of it; you still have no clue how you managed to get this job with your non-existent experience but here you are, five years later, sitting in the massive meeting room now decorated with garlands and string lights, while you look at your favorite companion with nothing but love and respect.

Midoriya Izuku absolutely adores Christmas. He decorates the whole agency every year, usually by himself then brings a ridiculous amount of food for the team to feast on after their working hours which he insists he made by himself, but judging by the seasoning it’s probably Dynamight’s doing who also insists “he has nothing to do with this shit.”

Both of these people are terrible liars, by the way.

This year, you were lucky enough to help Midoriya with the decorations. You couldn’t believe it when he asked you to stay longer with him; he might be the friendliest person in the whole world but when it comes to things like this, he somehow enjoys to do them alone, with no one around, just him and the Christmas music blasting from the speakers as the sun slowly sets in the background.

He was much worse five years ago; he loved to chat around about silly things but he absolutely hated to talk about himself, about his feelings, about his plans, about anything that involved him, really; he always changed the topic to something else (or someone else) as the first personal question left the other person’s mouth. After a while, the team just gave up on Midoriya Izuku and they only talked about themselves with him but you couldn’t ignore the massive bags under the hero’s eyes, nor his self-deprecating words when someone somehow managed to make him talk about something personal; you’ve always found the most ridiculous excuses to stay behind with him, to be next to him, to give him support, even if it’s from far away.

Things have started to change on a gloomy Thursday afternoon; Midoriya’s agency managed to catch a massive villain group but not without a price; one of the sidekicks got gravely injured, barely made it out alive and you knew Midoriya was blaming himself for it.

You were just about to leave for the day when you heard the tiny sniffles coming out of his office; needless to say you threw all your belongings on the floor and ran towards the sound right away.

Midoriya was a mess. His eyes were swollen, tears streaking down his cheeks as he continued typing on the computer, completely ignoring his fickle mental state just so he can do some more work. He didn’t even look up from his screen as you opened the door; he tried to school the scowl on his face, he really did, but it was all in vain - he couldn’t hide his red-rimmed eyes or the bags under it.

“Hey, your shift is over, go home. Enjoy your evening, Y/N, I’ll be out myself in a second.”

Lies.

“I’ll wait for you then.” You sat down on the sofa right next to his desk, faking obliviousness.

The silence was awkward, but somehow Midoriya could sense that you wouldn’t leave even if he would have insisted for you to do so, so he nodded to no one in particular and continued his paperwork, continued the sniffling and then finally, the tears came and none of you said a single word about it.

Not until Midoriya Izuku finally broke.

“I should have been there. I should have saved him from that blow…” He muttered to the screen in front of him. You’ve never seen him so heartbroken before and it broke your heart, you could hear it shatter on the floor as you looked up to see the young, Number One hero who’s usually so full of energy and positive thoughts crouching by the computer with nothing but pure blankness in his eyes.

“You were on the other side of the battlefield. I checked the footage already. You can’t save everyone, Midoriya. No human being can, not even All Might.” You whispered into the silence. “She’s okay, by the way. It was a close call but she’ll be fine. Your quick response saved her life. You are not the reason for her suffering. You are the reason she’s still alive.”

Midoriya looked at you like this is the first time he’s seen you for real; your voice was raw, much deeper than your usual work-voice but apparently it was the right choice to show your real self to him because after this, something changed; his walls started to crack as he looked up at you, vulnerable and raw.

“Why are you here, Y/N?” Midoriya asked, but there was no malice in his voice; it was quite the opposite actually; it felt like Midoriya has opened up a bit, let you see the broken pieces inside him then he let you choose if you want to stay or leave.

“Because I really want to hug you.”

Midoriya’s walls shattered completely in only a few seconds after that. You wanted to share his pain and your wish was granted; Midoriya couldn’t stop the tears anymore, his cry loud and incoherent as he meandered over and sat down next to you. His head landed on your shoulders with a loud thump and he cried and cried, for a few minutes or hours, you have no idea but eventually, the sobs subdued and there was silence, a really comfortable one at that. Your fingers raked through the messy, unwashed curls as Midoriya finally let himself fall asleep in your arms, probably for the first time in the last 48 hours.

Something shifted around you two after that. You didn’t need to ask what’s wrong anymore; if you stayed longer for no reason Midoriya took it as an invite to went, talked about his life, about his problems, no fake smiles, just words and incoherent mumbles as Izuku let out everything that has been bothering him during the day in one go.

It was quite a surprise to see Midoriya’s “ugly” side; you didn’t think he had so much hatred in him, mostly towards himself, you didn’t think he could get so offended by stupid things like the comment section on his Instagram profile but the most surprising thing was that somehow, during his rants and smile-free conversations you managed to fall in love with his broken soul and it only got worse once he let you in when things were good as well; his smile came back and it became more real when it was only the two of you in the building and it made the butterflies have a break dance battle in your tummy, it made your chest tighten, and finally, it made your heart beat in a new, strange way and it felt so right yet so wrong at the same time you couldn’t decide what to do with it for years.

You two became close friends after that. Midoriya invited you to come with him every time his friends went out drinking then kept you close and safe until the end of the night, he opened your door for you and didn’t leave until you fell asleep. You were his plus one whenever there was an event he had to attend, casual or business, you stayed at his office and listened to him talk almost every day, but that was all, there was never a sign from him that he wants this to be more than a close, work-related friendship so you’ve never made a move. It’s not like there haven’t been a chance to do so; oh no, there have been several; like the time you two ended up cuddling on his sofa while you watched a movie after a ridiculously busy week. Midoriya’s fingers went up and down your naked arms while you nuzzled into his neck, happy and content and you were so close to leave a tiny kiss there, but you stopped yourself because you felt like… this, whatever this was, was too pure to ruin with your “dirty”, unrequited feelings.

You didn’t think you will ever have a chance and to be honest, you still don’t think so… But there was this one moment, just a few days before, that made you think that maybe, telling him about your feelings wouldn’t be the end of the world and knowing how understanding Midoriya is, he would probably fight for this friendship even if you fuck it all up with your confession.

You two laughed so much during the decorating and it really didn’t feel like overtime; Midoriya’s honest, sweet laughs were much better than the loaded paycheck by the end of the month. It took you guys ages to finish the whole thing so you two ended up crashing on Midoriya’s office sofa after a quick shower in the communal bathroom.

There wasn’t enough space for the two of you to be comfortable so soon enough you ended up cuddling, Midoriya’s thighs halfway down the sofa but somehow, both of you felt content like that, like it was normal, like it was meant to be.

“Y/N, can I ask you a silly question?” Midoriya mumbled, halfway asleep.

“Hm?”

“Have you ever felt like you have everything you’ve ever wanted but somehow, something is still missing? Is it selfish to want more than what you can get… sometimes?” You couldn’t miss the way Midoriya’s hand clenched by your middle as he said that.

“Midoriya, I respect you but all you’ve got is several mental issues and a good job. There is more to life than that.”

Midoriya’s ugly snort was the cutest thing you’ve ever heard in your life.

“Like what?”

“Uhm…” You giggled into Midoriya’s neck. “Puppies. Seeing the world. Learning something new. And uhm… falling in love, maybe…”

“Have you ever been in love, Y/N?” Midoriya asked, and the conversation turned serious. “Is that something you wish for?”

“Only with the right person.” You admitted. “I don’t want to go on blind dates and stuff. I just want… this. Being content. And happy. With someone I respect and adore.”

“Are you happy now?” Midoriya’s voice was right next to your ears but somehow, it sounded so far away; like he’s talking to someone else, to someone watching you two from above, a deity or a guardian Angel.

“Right now? I am.”

~•🥦•~

Being Midoriya’s friend was getting harder and harder every day. The urge to touch, to kiss the fresh scars on his nose were almost unbearable sometimes, especially on the days when Midoriya was hard on himself for no reason whatsoever. Thankfully, most days - now that Christmas was approaching - were filled with Midoriya’s laughter instead of the sound of his heartbroken sniffles.

The first day after decorating the office is always fun; everyone cheers as their eyes meet the thousands of colors swirling around the walls, dread of the early morning long forgotten; the Christmas snacks in the cafeteria makes everyone’s lunch a tiny bit more cheerful - there isn’t a single grumpy person in the whole agency on the first day.

After five years, you kinda got used to this but for you and Midoriya, this was a special day for another reason; it was the first day you two woke up in each other’s arms. Something shifted again, but you had no idea what; everything felt the same but somehow different, like the distance between you and Midoriya got halved, like he was in an arm’s length now, waiting for you to finally reach out but you were quite sure it was only the night before that made it feel like that. Until…

“I also brought some things in if that’s okay!” One of your colleagues spoke up with a shit-eating grin on his face. You love this guy but he’s always up to no good and once you’ve seen the mistletoe hanging right above you, you knew what’s his “mischief of the day” was. “Oh no, it seems like we need to kiss...” The guy couldn’t even finish his sentence properly as suddenly, Midoriya appeared out of thin air, right next to you; he spun you around once, making you laugh with his sudden cheekiness, then twice and you two ended up right under the mistletoe. Midoriya’s cheeky smile made your heart do a somersault in your chest and you swear your heart stopped for a second as Midoriya left a comically loud smack on your cheek and left the room, giggling to himself like a mischievous child. “Dang, boss, you are such a cockblock!” He yelled after his cheeky boss while he laughed - there is no way anyone can be mad at Midoriya when he’s in a good mood. He’s just too adorable.

All you could think of for the rest of the day was how soft Midoriya’s lips were and how much you wanted to taste them.

Maybe it’s time for me to tell him. - you thought to yourself as you came up with a Christmas present idea.

~•🥦•~

“Next Christmas, I want us to thank you for your hard work, not the other way around.” You tell Midoriya as you two take a little break from cleaning out the office after the Christmas celebration. Calling Chargebolt over was a terrible idea - half of the team had to be taken home by a taxi as Chargebolt couldn’t stop refilling their cups while they weren’t looking. Needless to say, you two haven’t drunk at all, knowing that someone will need to make the place habitable again for tomorrow because hero life never ends, not even on Christmas Eve.

“Having you here with me is enough. It’s not fun to clean up alone.” Midoriya gives you that damn smile you can’t get enough of, even though you see it quite often these days. If this feeling inside your chest isn’t love you have no idea what love is. There is no way there’s a stronger feeling than the ache in your heart as you look at the small, barely visible wrinkles by Izuku’s eyes, the beautiful, gorgeous freckles that didn’t fade with age at all - they also make him look 10 years younger than he actually is - this ache in your heart is urging you to touch, to soothe, to please, to make the other happy; it’s painful but it’s also pleasant, a burn that stings but leaves a nice, tingly feeling afterwards.

“Midoriya… actually… Izuku…” You look up at the most important person in your life and he looks back at you with nothing but pure wonder in his eyes.

“Why does it sound like heaven when you say it?” Izuku mutters with a red face but you are too terrified to actually step back and think about his reaction, because this is it - You are just about to confess and ruin everything you’ve worked so hard for.

“I… I have a present for you. You don’t need to accept it. Please, only accept it if you… if you really mean it.” You mumble as you take out a small envelope and give it to him with shaking hands.

It’s so stupid. And so childish. There is no way in hell you can do this in a proper way so you focus on a random scratch on the wooden floor; you can’t look into his eyes while you slowly let your heart out through your mouth just so he can punch it back into your chest and break it into pieces. Not like he would ever would do such a thing, but still.

He looks at the small envelope with a happy smile on his face for a while then finally, he opens it up and starts reading out loud. You really want the ground to open up under you right now.

“Dear Izuku. (I hope you don’t mind me calling you that.) No, I don’t, I like it haha - You won a prize! … what is this, Y/N?” Izuku giggles but the smile slowly disappears from his face. Every second feels like an eternity. It’s like something is choking you but you can’t do anything about it. “It’s a ticket for a one on one Christmas date with Y/N, platonic, or romantic, depending on your… de…cision.” Izuku looks up from the little card with pure confusion written all over his face.

“As I said, you do not need to accept this at all. I have a plan B. But if you do and you decide on the romantic date… I… I must add that the romantic ticket is non-refundable. And it’s not… for one day. Think about it a Christmas puppy. You give it to someone for Christmas but it’s a responsibility for a lifetime. Oh my god, that sounds so stupid, I’m sorry, I can’t do this, please just forget about it and give that back to me…” you try to get the card back but Izuku pulls it away.

“Do you mean it?” Izuku mumbles; you can’t look into his eyes, you can’t, but at the same time you really want to see his face right now, you need to see how he reacts. You look up from the floor for only a second; and that one second turns your whole life upside down.

Izuku’s eyes are full of tears, but somehow, his whole face looks… happy?

“What?” You mumble back, mesmerized by the sparks in Izuku’s eyes. Were they always so beautiful or is it just the magic of Christmas Eve?

“The romantic date… no refunds, for a lifetime… do you mean it?”

“Would I be shaking like a leaf if I wouldn’t? I’m freaking out, Izuku.” Your voice cracks by the end of your sentence, tears prickling your eyes as you try to keep eye contact.

“I also… have a Christmas present for you.” He mutters, not answering your question which is an answer itself. You know Izuku well enough to know what he means by dodging a question; he’s been doing that for a whole year before you two became friends and you hate how much it hurts to be on the receiving side again, especially in this situation. It was so stupid for you to do this on Christmas Eve. You ruined the holiday for you both and Izuku has been so excited about it and now every year, he’ll think about your stupid confession and how you ruined the only holiday he genuinely enjoys…

“Here. Please, read it. I want to see your face when you get to the end of it.” Midoriya gives you that damned smile again; the smile you love so much and it’s so out of place in this situation but somehow, it gives you hope; it makes you believe that maybe you didn’t ruin your friendship nor the holiday completely and this can be salvaged after all. “Please.” He repeats as he gives you a cute letter, steadying your shaky hands with his own; the feeling of Izuku’s rough fingertips on the back of your hands almost makes you yelp out loud but after a few deep breaths you school your face into something neutral and start reading.

“Dear Y/N. Getting a silly little letter from me must not have been on your bucket list but I hope at least it will make you feel happy. We’ve been close friends for four years now and knew each other five. I think about you as one of the most important people in my life and the feeling only got stronger and stronger as the days has passed and at one point, my feelings got out hand and wandered to an unknown path and it took me literal years to realize what they really mean, so I’m sorry if this letter is a little bit too late.” You need to take a deep breath. This letter sounds suspiciously like a love letter but Izuku has always been an emotional person so maybe, this is his way of telling you he thinks about you as family? “The first thing that made me wonder about my feelings was that… I love to touch you. I love to keep you close. I enjoy being with you alone more than I enjoy sharing a drink with you in a pub when my friends are around. The second thing was that somehow, over the years you got prettier in my eyes - you’ve always been pretty, don’t get me wrong but my eyes got caught on certain things a friend’s shouldn’t; your lips, your cheekbones, on the way your hair flies in the wind and small things like that. Then the third and final thing was only a few days ago; on the first day of our Christmas extravaganza when someone was about to kiss you under the mistletoe.

All I could think of was that… I want you to be mine.”

Your heart is having a hard time and so is your mind. This can’t be real. There is no way this happening right now…?!

“Izuku?!”

“Just continue.” Izuku smiles at you, his eyes full of affection. He moves his hands to your middle once he deemed you strong enough to be able to hold a single piece of paper and you can feel the twitch in the movement as he struggles to not pull you close and you can’t believe you’ve missed the sighs until now; Izuku looks at you like you are the prettiest star on the sky, like you are the reason the sun shines above you and it’s so endearing yet so natural… this moment, here, right now, at 10PM on a cold and dark Sunday evening… this moment was written in the starts thousands of years ago, you can feel it in your heart, in your soul, fucking everywhere.

“We cried, we laughed, we cheered, we mourned; we did all of these together but now it’s time for the next adventure - if you are up for it, of course.” You can’t stop sniffling as you get to the end of the letter. “So your Christmas present… is my heart. Because it’s all yours. It always has been. Is it even a present if it was yours for so long already? Great question. I think it’s the thought that counts.

Dear, Y/N. I love you. From the bottom of my heart to the tip of my toes.

Yours Sincerely;

Midoriya Izuku.”

There isn’t a proper word or a proper sentence to describe what you are feeling right now. You want to cry and laugh at the same time, you want to break down but you also want to stand tall and proud because your feelings just got reciprocated.

“We came up with the same silly idea, Y/N. If that’s not a sign then I don’t know what it is.” Izuku laughs as he finally pulls you close. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend?” Izuku’s voice is so childish and so giddy you can’t help but laugh. He rests his forehead on yours and takes a deep breath; it’s all so new and so strange yet it feels so right, just so-so perfect it makes your heart melt into a puddle on Izuku’s office floor.

“You mean it?” You parrot his own words back to him with a cheeky smile which ends up much bigger than you wanted it to be; Izuku’s hold gets tighter and tighter around your middle, the distance almost non-existent between you two now.

“Can I kiss you now? Because I really really want to kiss you now.” Izuku mumbles, completely ignoring your cheeky retort. You do your best to make an offended face but it’s extremely hard to concentrate while Izuku’s breath tickles your lips.

“You are so impatient, Izuku, I haven’t even answered yet.” You giggle to yourself, your lips already touching Izuku’s, but only a tiny bit, it’s more like a tease than an actual touch. “Where’s the mistletoe, then?” You add cheekily and Izuku doesn’t say a word to that; his hand wanders to your face and caresses your cheek with his thumb then gently moves your chin up to look at the ceiling right above you; you notice that the mistletoe your colleague brought in is clumsily stuck to the ceiling with… tape. You can’t help but roll your eyes while Izuku’s happy laughter fills the office as he slowly moves back into your personal space and finally steals a kiss from you.

First, the kiss is tentative and slow, one peck then two then three; Izuku grins between the small kisses and suddenly something shifts; he barges back with more fervor, the kiss deep and scorching hot but Izuku can’t stop smiling so it’s also a little bit awkward but somehow it’s still the most perfect kiss you’ve ever had.

“I love Christmas.” Izuku kisses you again. “And you.”

“I love you too, you grumpy, adorable fucking nerd.” You finally deepen the kiss properly; you take his bottom lips in yours and suck on it, making Izuku yelp with the sudden action. It doesn’t take him long to take revenge though; he licks over your lip then barges into your mouth, his tongue having a slow dance with your own, his body flush against yours as you slowly kiss away the remaining two hours until the clock hits midnight and you two freak out over the mess you still need to clean up before the new day starts, but not even the lateness of the day nor the grimy work can ruin your mood as you two slowly get the building tidy until every surface sparkles under the shine of the rising sun.

“You should have just asked the cleaning crew to clean this up in the morning.” You mumble into Izuku’s ear as you two try to have at least two hours of sleep on the small sofa before the day starts.

“Well yeah, but then I wouldn’t have had an excuse to ask you to stay for longer.” He admits sheepishly. You can’t believe this man.

“I fucking love you, you silly nerd.”

The end

Extra:

“Fucking finally!” Katsuki’s voice blasts through the speakers. You are not even surprised that Katsuki is the first person Izuku tells about the news, barely a few hours after you two got together. Also, he’s video-calling, because apparently, calling someone like a normal person is too ‘impersonal’. “You two, my place, tonight. We are having fucking Katsudon, thank the motherfucking gods above I don’t need to listen to you moaning about your unrequited fucking love anymore! Shitty hair! We need booze!” Katsuki yells to his half asleep flatmate. “Deku finally grew some balls! Also, you owe me 10000 yen!”… then he ends the call without even saying bye.

“Will we ever have a good sleep ever again?” You mumble to Izuku and his two massive Gucci bags under his eyes.

“No. Mum’s celebration will last a whole week. I hope you are not on a diet by the way, she loves to force feed people.” He smiles at you and …honestly? You don’t need any sleep if you can keep staring into those beautiful sparkling eyes full of love and affection instead.

“I can’t wait.”

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Potato ramble:

- Reader: writes a stupid note about Deku winning a date with her

Deku: Writes a full on essay about his feelings

Also Deku: Wow it’s the same!

Honestly Y/N, that present was so cringe, did you even try? 😂😂😂😂 💜

- There is one thing I realized while I was writing this: I hate one-shots. I don’t think I’ll ever do one ever again. They always feel so empty and rushed even if I try to put as much information as I can into it. I like to take my time with this stuff, show the audience how the two characters ended up in love with each other… so yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever do a holiday special ever again haha

- Sorry for all the folks waiting for the next chapters of my ongoing series, I absolutely hyperfixated on this one and I also knew I won’t be able to be on time with those two thanks to the Christmas rush in retail (bro, I’m dead) so I kinda gave up. They’ll be coming soon I swear!

- I hope you guys have a lovely Christmas or whatever holiday you guys enjoy around this time! I’m not a big Christmas person myself but I do like a good Christmas-themed fanfiction :D

If you liked this story, send me a lovely comment and check out my Master List! 💜

Merry Christmas, everyone! 🎄

#bnha x reader #mha x reader #midoriya x reader #midoriya x y/n #midoriya x you #midoriya izuku x reader #pro hero deku x reader #deku x reader #midoriya izuku x you #midoriya izuku x y/n

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cuntboyprincess · 9 months

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GYNECOLOGIST STORY 🚺

This is a TRUE story, everything really happened!

About 2 years ago as I was still very freaking dysphoric, I had to visit the hospital for a check up on my hormones and to talk about a possible hysterectomy ~removing uterus and ovaries~. They have a special section for trans-people there. But this section is part of the ,,gynecology and obstetrics" department. So you basically had to sit in a waiting room together with 95% pregnant women. It was incredibly humiliating. Whenever I visited, they usually had a longer talk with me, took some blood and did a check up on my hormone levels. But this time was different. I mentioned how I had considered a hysterectomy and if it was possible to get an operation date.

I got a date and then they told me I had to wait outside in the waiting room because I should see the gynecologist and have a talk with them as well. They were basically next door. I was about 19-20 years old and up until this day I had never visited an actual gynecologist. I had avoided it and it was basically my worst nightmare. I actually had no idea what they even do there. But I took it kind of literal when they told me ,,have a talk with the gynecologist". I thought I should go see them and basically just talk about the hysterectomy. So not knowing what is going to happen now, I was called in to the examination room. I barely had closed the door behind me and a fat, grumpy woman with glasses on in her 50s stood face to face to me in front of me as she had opened a 2nd door. She was checking me out in a bit of an derogatory kind of way. She reminded me a little bit of Berta from 2 & a half men. And for some reason it terrified me. Before she said ,,Hello" she said ,,Take off your shoes, pants and panties. Then come in." Then she closed the door.

I was so in shock and totally mortified. I might was very naive but I simply didn't expect I'd actually be physically examined now. I felt like fainting. I wanted to leave so bad but I felt quite helpless in this situation, as if there was no way out. So against my will I took of my clothing. There was no way I could enter this room like this. I was standing there, not knowing what to do. I felt like crying so hard and as if I was literally waiting for my execution. After a while she opened the door and said annoyed ,,What's up with you?? Come in!" I felt my heart pounding and my face turning fire red as I entered. There were two other female assistants in that room. Berta ~I call her this now~ said ,,Lay down with your legs spread, your feet must be up there." I had never seen a gynecologist chair before, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I was so naive I had absolutely no idea what is done at the gynecologist. I had no choice, I lay down and I felt so embarrassed and degraded in this moment, I wanted to cry so bad. ,,Ever used tampons??", one of them asked. ,,Mhm" I answered, but it happened automatically, I felt like everything was happening in a fog, I was in a mental state where I just froze. Actually I didn't ever use tampons, I had avoided touching or interacting with my vagina in ANY way possible. So Berta came back with a dildo-shaped object in her hand, rubbing some lubrication on it. In my mind I said ,,This is not actually happening. There is NO way", my mouth sure stood open a bit because I was so shocked by this. Then she entered this thing into my vagina, just like that. I let out a little moan because it was totally unexpected and hurt a bit and I wasn't used to this sensation down there. My heart was racing so fast it felt as if it was about to explode. This was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. I felt so degraded and traumatized because I had no idea what was going on. I just know there was a fat, old woman staring at my vagina while penetrating me with a dildo shaped object. Turned out it was some ultrasound thing and she was examining my ovaries and uterus, taking ultrasound pictures.

It was I guess the first time I ever had such a big, long object inside of me. I basically felt these sensations for the very first time in my life. She moved this thing around inside of me, looking at the computer. And I felt my body getting aroused. Like, I was in absolute mental agony, dying of embarrassment and feeling as dysphoric as I never had before...but at the same time I felt as if my cervix & uterus were tickling and my clitoris was stiffening. This made me feel even MORE horrible and degraded. After a while she pulled it out again, I could feel the... longness of this thing as she pulled it out. It also made a very quiet ,,blop" sound and I let out another short moan, perhaps because I got wet during the procedure.

I felt like throwing up, I'm not sure if my cheeks were fire red out of shame or if I was pale like a ghost. She said I could go back outside and get dressed. I was for certain traumatized after this. In the end I didn't get the operation because I didn't want to come back there ever so I didn't, I started visiting a different hospital where I do these checkups. Also I couldn't leave my house for a couple days, I was very depressed for several weeks and it probably changed me for ever.

It also marks how I started masturbating vaginally. After this experience I started to pleasure my insides more and more until it was excessive, like for the fiest time I started to shove things inside my vagina, because now I craved the tingling feeling around my cervix I had felt during this examination, I also craved embarrassment and exposure and dysphoria.

I think this experience was partly responsible for how fucked up I am today 🫢🥹 I'm so fucked up I got dripping wet by all these memories and now I'd LOVE to go see a gynecologist to get off to the embarrassment and exposure later on.

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mrrharper · 1 month

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1000+ followers / Commissions

What's up, everyone!

First of all, the follower count for this blog seems to be glitched, so I'm only 95% sure that the following paragraph is correct. But anyway...

This blog has reached and surpassed 1000 followers, which is kinda insane. Never really expected this collection of my weird little stories would get a large following, and certainly not this fast. And I'm so damn grateful for that.

Especially for all the positive messages you bros sent me. It's such a great feeling when you realize there's a whole community of people that share interests and kinks with you. Thanks for every DM, it's really cool to see a notification about a new message, appreciate that very much.

So I come here with gratitude. Thanks for all the support bros, stay tuned for what's coming next! There are quite a few hot (in my personal opinion) ideas sitting in my drafts, there are sequels and longer stories and more musky jocks and soldiers coming.

I also come here with a proposition.

I am now doing writing commissions - if you would like me to write a story for you, you now have the option to make your wish a reality.

If you are interested, please contact me (through DMs) and tell me what you have in mind. We'll work together and figure out the details. But before we begin, please read the details below first.

What I will write about:

Of course, I am most comfortable with the stuff I've been writing about already - please check out my writing to see exactly what that entails. My interests include jocks, cops, soldiers as well as transformations, mental change, identity change, muscle growth or mind control.

But I am open to other stuff, although in that case I'd like for you, the person commissioning the work, to be more prepared to provide me with the kinds of details you'd like me to include in your story. I will not be able to help you figure the details out as well as with themes I'm more used to.

When writing to me, please be... fairly specific. Come with more than one sentence. If you want to give me a vague idea, you can just send me an ask. Try to also approximate the length of the story, check out my other writing to get a sense of how much detail and story can fit into 500 words.

What I will not write about:

These are my red lines - things, themes, kinks I will not write about because I'm not comfortable working with them. This is not a value judgement - I am not saying that any of those things are bad, that you should feel bad if you get off to stories that include them. With that in mind, the list includes:

Feminization/main focus on female characters

Bathroom stuff (watersports, scat, etc.)

Excessive violence, torture, rape etc.

Chastity

Real celebrities

Feet

Underage (duh)

Inflation/excessive size

This list is not exhaustive, and I reserve the right to say no to your proposal.

And about explicit writing: for now I will not write stories that include explicit scenes, that is characters fucking, you know what I mean. The reasons for this are twofold: I'm not sure in my ability to deliver writing that will be satisfactory in that regard AND it is a grey area when it comes to taking payments for that type of content. So for now its a no, bros.

Pricing:

My base rate is 3 EUR for every 100 words. That translates to 15 EUR for 500 words, 30 words for 1000 words, and so on.

The payment is upfront, the size of which will be decided before I begin writing based on what you'll want and what we will decide your idea needs. The payment will be made through the "commission" section of my Ko-Fi page (https://ko-fi.com/mrrharper). You can also go there and see if I'm accepting new commissions (I will set the number of free slots there and update it).

Other information:

Please, take into account that I have a life outside of Tumblr. I have a family and friends to foster relations with, classes to go to, papers to write. Because of this I might not be able to answer within seconds or complete your story as fast as you would expect or want to, and I ask you to take that into consideration.

After the work is finished I will provide you with the full file containing the story in a format of your choosing (but remember that I'm not paying for any professional word processing software).

I might want to one day post your commission on my blog (with credit). If you'd like for me to not do that, or not credit you, please tell me.

That's it for now, don't be surprised if I add (or ask for) some more details as we talk.

The Ko-Fi page is also open to one-off and monthly donations, if you really want to support me. I will really appreciate every single donation, but please - DO NOT feel pressured to support me financially. You reading my stories, liking and following, is completely enough.

Thanks for everything bros! See ya soon and Fly Eagles Fly!

#tumblr milestone #open commissions

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beril66 · 2 months

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So I am reading banger character analysis of various necron characters from people like Ghost and Magistralucis so I wanted to put my two sents in about two things; the absolute HYPOCRISY of Orikan the Diviner and necrons as a whole;

Those who have read I&D no doubt remember the incredible Opera scene. It was probably the most profound part of the entire book; more than their hilarious feud , their team up aganist Orks and subsequent betrayals , their clashes of importance of culture and history and complete disregard of it even if its your own (put a pin on that we'll come back to this) , the heartwrenching flashes of memories or even the final kaiju battles at the end. These two old coots finally FINALLY have to breath methaphorically and just...talk.

Well mostly Orikan talks. Conveniently 'just' remembering it was Trazyn who dragged him into the biofurnaces (even if you think for a MOMENT it's while possible HIGHLY improbable.) So he engages Trazyn in the way it would impact him the most. Through cultural analysis. Both @ghostinthegallery and @magistralucis did analysis on these scenes better than I ever could and I want to a particular parts of Orikan's speech because even as I know practically nothing about 40k or necrons (I&D is my first 40k book) it always made me laugh out loud at the absolute GALL of it.

"Children of Important people, judging by their clothing, though Orikan had no interest in this world or its Byzantine ideas of hierarchy' and

"but we call each other low and bumbling because we are highly civilized"

I legit laughed myself silly here before the gut punch of their interaction continued because... the ridiculous amount of lack of self awareness and hypocrisy just absolutely stunned me.

This is the SAME species who before the biotransference killed each other for basically for sport.

The same species who calls those who are in the lower class as 'it' and has literal philosophical works that brings their SAPIENCE AND SENTIENCE into question (Aristotle would be PROUD)

The same species where a crown prince can get away with shooting 50 commoner soldier in the head as a 'LESSON IN RULING' .

Same species STILL in some cases look down on Imotekh the fucking Stormlord just because he is apparently a 'sandborne'.

Same species who turned their entire lives and culture into a death cult.

The same species who seem to ironically instead of uniting and searching for a cure of their condition just continue to paint galaxy in red with their own and other species blood.

The same race after Old Ones rejected them decided to not just fought aganist them but TRIED TO DESTROY EVERY OTHER PEOPLE THEY COME ACROSS until Old Ones kicked their asses enough.

Tangent here; I mostly agree Old Ones refusing to at least cure them of their cancers is a massive dick move but a counter argument can be made; if you saw a species like necrontyr spread in the galaxy conquering everything they see (and lets be honest here.. if they had vassal species they most likely treat them worse than any Sand born) and the only thing keeping them in check is their sickness , internal political bullshit and equevalant species...would you help them?

And after ALL OF THAT you just...turn each on other and start to REALLY go at it to the point you get the attention of hungry melicious star parasites.

After completely ignoring the increasingly desperate warnings of your almost always correct court astromancer and paint him as insane and a charlatan;

THEN these things, using higher echelon's desperation for eternal life fool you into turning your entire race into soulless terminators because suprise!! During your transformation of course the 'gods' duped you and not only they stuck you into sub-optimal metal coffins , not only (some lore bits implies nobility %100 aware and content) %95 precent of your population is lobotomized , not only you are made to forget %98 of your entire culture even forget where your homeworld is , not only you sacrificed every single class of your young children and will NEVER have future generations EVER, but the cherry on top of this shit cake is your souls are gobbled by said star parasites and also ALL of you, SK included turned into their slaves.

So you and your new masters start a 5 million years worth of war so horrific you give chaos such a power boost , killed about %80 of the galaxy , forced psykic frogs into tearing the first anus in reality and drove the possibly only species keeping the Chaos Gods in check into (possible) extinction. You fucked the afterlife for everyone else until the heat death of the universe in Milky Way.

After that little debacle you turn on your gods , fought them, shatter them (and 'kill' one that in some shape harmed the reality) then after seeing the absolute devestation your gods and kind inflicted go to 60 millions of years of sleep which lets be honest helped more than hurt as mental problems were cropping up BEFORE the end of the war (TDK)

Now you are waking up and did you learn ANYTHING from all of the 5 million worth of life experience?

They learned jackshit thats what happened. Every single sapient necron even the likes of Trazyn, even Zhandrekh are still making the SAME mistakes and inflicts same cruelties they kind always had done.

Trazyn is at the end of the day is a thief and a kidnapper. I&D happened BECAUSE he was so stubborn to steal that gem he wounded the World Spirit and caused the Deciever shard to gain enough power by sending some Aeldari souls his way before Slaanesh can take them. My guy killed an ENTIRE WORLD for a joke.

We all know the reason he is so obsessed with his work is to keep himself sane and have a purpose but just imagine the GOOD he can do. He library rivals the actual BLACK LIBRARY in universe. He tried to help at Cadia and it was amazing to see but at the end of the day even Trazyn didn't seem to grasp that the galaxy is dying in front of him and he can CHANGE that. Or unwilling. This is the worst attributes of the necrons; not caring when they actually really SHOULD.

Zhandrekh is as much as the setting allows is a good man. He could be considered kind even in Flesh Times. He is an honourable man. He is also a terrifyingly competent warlord serving Imotekh whose damage seems to be his insaitable desire to conquer and CONTROL (as much as we know GW for what? 8 years didn't characterized him other than "really clever , great general , obsession with proving his worth and control by dueling with strong opponents"). I think people forget about that about him. He didn't lost a SINGLE campaign aganist Imperium. My senile old sweet man is TERRIFYING.Not much more to say about him honestly he is a good dude in a horrific setting with dementia and married to his bodyguard.

Now lets come to Orikan. Orikan the Diviner is %100 has the right to be a resentful bastard to his own people. He tried so hard to stop the catasthrophy of biotransference. Not only he didn't succeed but they THROW HIM AGANIST HIS WILL into the fires.

What I really like about him however is while he is a venomous , back stabbing little bastard who takes a little too much pleasure of his people' suffering he has these...flashes that shows there is SOMETHING kinder underneath deep deep DEEP down. He didn't want to destroy Serenade. Interestinf thing about him is he only refers to humans as an "it" ONCE. And thats a corpse something even we do. These are very small but it shows Orikan ISN'T just a complete and utter douchbag XD

That being said Orikan abject denial of basically anything positive about anything or anyone necron or not shows how small minded he can be. His destruction of necrontyr artifacts, his dismissal of human anything without giving it a try (like apperantly SK prepared shadow puppet theater for palace kids? How is that a drivel Orikan???) Etc. He simultaneously despises everything necrontyr/necron that ISN'T his or Vishani's provess in their fields yet claims total superiority in everything Necrons do as he insults them. He is the single most hypocritical character bar chaos SM.

Don't get me wrong its a great character work and shows us how flimsy necron identity even is. Because minus general archetypes of their dynasties they have...none. Soulless God Killers isn't an identity. It's the curse of their entire species however metal (pun intended) it is to turn your treacherous gods into cattle. At the end of the day however advanced tech they possess or claims to have high manners (if they are sentient enough) or 'elegance' they are as barren as a civilization can get in all account bar tech.

And the fact that they can call themselves 'Civilized' making me giggle for the sheer absurdity of it BECAUSE they equate technological advancement as 'Cultured amd civilized'.

Necrons while I LOVE THEM and want them to have a happy ending (I want that for all species honetly everyone is horrible in 40k its okay :D) are the indisputed the WORST people in this shithole of a galaxy.

Imperium in many ways are lightyears ahead of us technologically would we call them civilized? Aeldari despite all their tech and arts were creating blood orgies on bodies of sacrificed children and I didn't met many people who would consider even the today's Crafworld Aeldari civilized.

Necrons are the same as these two. There is beside technology and cultural ticks no difference between them. Orikan calls the class system of Serenade 'Byzantine ideas' while he himself is subjected to the EXACT SAME THING in Mendragora court.

So if we rib on the Imperium and Aeldar...why shouldn't we on necrons?

All the races of the Milky Way are sides of a multi-faced coin (except Tyranids obviously). Bloodthirsty , cruel savages with certain exceptions in characters because they are marginally less shitty than the rest (Trazyn , Zhandrekh , Oltyx , Yenekh , Eldrad , Vulcan , Farsight , Shadowsun , Jaghatai Khan etc.) Who wants the same thing.

Necrons are just the most delusional of them all and its so tragic it loops back around to being funny. All races have fell from grace in Warhammer. The Necrontyr might be the only race started with very little redeeming qualities though. And the have not changed a SINGLE BIT in 65 fucking MILLION YEARS besides Oltyx (who because the Flayer King. A literal flesh tearing and wearing monster) . A single character. This is beyond horrific when you think about it.

Ironically in 40k DAOT humans might have been the most civilized race ever existed. They had peace treaties with ORKS. Interex have not eradicated Mega-arachnids just banished them to a world where they can live and let live. Diasporex just wanted to be left alone. Humanity even Aledari used to have compassion. Necrontyr and necron minus few never had that as a SOCIETY. Not to their own NOT to others. (I am not humans fuck yeah! In the slightest but...history speaks for itself)

And with their souls gone it seems something needs to shake them up so badly to start actual REFLECTION of eho they have been/who they are. Because with the way the are going...their minds will give long before their bodies do.

Sooo...this is my 'analysis' of the hypocrisy of Orikan and Necrons as a whole considering them so above all despite being in the same mudpit wirh other races. Would love to hear your opinions do you agree? Disagree?

#necrons #warhammer 40k #orikan the diviner #trazyn the infinite #necrons are objectively the most pitiable race in 40k #they feared death so so much yet even after become what they are they are still terrified #take reanimation protocols from them and you can make them to practically ANTHING #their society was a fucking nightmare as necrontyr #at least the commoners have no mind to suffer anymore #'Allegedly' because certain lore bits implies they ARE basically suffering from. 'locked in syndrome #thats a face I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy #like they legit basically killed EVERY SINGLE CHILD #when you think about it #Oltyx was about 17-18 . I think really young ones like 11-12 regardless of class turned into a warrior #I love them but boy do they pathetic as a species #Sad depressed skeletons needs a collective reality check #i love them anyway

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littleseasalt · 4 months

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ok, i worked out fueled by grief over qforever, had breakfast and took a shower so now im more recomposed to be sappy about forever like kia did on her profile despite the fact that i did not sleep at all this night. full text under the cut to not clog the tag and YES I AM GONNA TAG THIS TEXT BECAUSE WE DROVE THE FOREVER BUS I FEEL LIKE WE'RE ALLOWED TO DO THIS IF WE WANT TO 🗣️🗣️

The qsmp is my first direct experience with mcrp and this kind of smp. Previously, my only contact with stuff like this had been dealing with Dream stans on twitter so uh. Not a good light. Before the qsmp i really had a negative view on mcyt and its fans in general (specially when it comes to shipping because i didnt really understood at the time). Then, suddenly on my twitter I saw a commotion about brazilians joining a gringo minecraft series, and that kinda make me go "? interesting", but I didn't really thought much. Then, my uruguayan friend send me the brazilians announcement when it happened, asking me if I knew those streamers.

Now! Fun fact! Unlike 95% of the brazilians in this fandom, these people were, in fact, not my childhood. I knew who Cellbit, Felps and Tazercraft were, of course, they were/are famous as hell. But, at the time they were at the peak of brazilian mcyt, my side of mcyt was the opposite of theirs (I was a rezendeevil fan. long story one day we need to put all the gringos up to brazilian mcyt lore), and previously I had only watched the old guard of brazilian mcyt (venom extreme kind of stuff). FUN FACT! I HAD NO FUCKING IDEA WHO FOREVER WAS! I had literally never heard of that man before and it just seemed so random to me, a random ass guy put along Cellbit, Felps and Tazercraft FEKWGFOIKWRRE

Now, due to them not being my childhood, I didn't really care about the qsmp. Like, oh, cool, brazilians are joining. But that was it to me, I had no interest in watching it at all. Then, the brazilians first day happened while I was sleeping, and my tl was FLOODING with videos about it. I saw fun clips of Cellbit, Felps and Tazercraft and found them funny, but that was it. After that I was just gonna ignore whenever it showed up on my timeline, block tags if necessary.

...And then I started seeing clips of Forever and Philza. And it was the most HILARIOUS stuff I had seen through the week. It was their interactions that made me be ok with the qsmp constantly showing up on my timeline, and it was their interactions that made me be somewhat more okay with mcrp.

So, fast foward a month. By then, I was used to qsmp clips showing up to me and some tweets about it, and then regret arc and guapoduo happened. This made me actually get interested in actively keeping up with the qsmp instead of just waiting for stuff to show up at my timeline. After a few days, I decided I'd hope on a qsmp stream just to see how things are.

This is the fun part: I was meant to be a Cellbit main, considering how it was regret and guapoduo what motivated me to watch a qsmp stream. But when I decided to hop on, Cellbit wasn't streaming but Forever was, and I was like "oh its the philza guy right? yeah im okay watching him" and decided to hop on. I think the first stream of his I watched was the one where he set up the Jaiden stasis chamber at the ordo.

And honestly, at first I tried really hard to keep up with Cellbits pov whenever Cellbit was streaming at the same time as Forever, but it just got harder. I don't know exactly what called me into Forever's pov at the time- maybe it was his relationship with Richas, maybe it was the way Forever was handling rp at the time, which had (and when he's not 100% loreing, still has) a thin layer of meta that just aligned with my current views on mcrp at the time. But Forever ended up being the pov I grew most attached and used to. I'd watch tazercraft during afternoons, sure, and I love them! But the moment Forever would open stream I'd come over running to him. I'd watch Cellbit when Forever wasn't on, but between the two, I'd always pick Forever.

And honestly, as a main Forever pov with a private twitter account and a tumblr lurker at the time BOY it was hard. my man was getting hate for some stupid shit and elections arc is a whole can of worms im not gonna open right now. But I'd never expected to grew so attached to a minecraft pov and to actually keep up with a streamer before- after 2016 I kinda just fell out of keeping up with youtubers/streamers.

And then we have the happy pills arc. This arc CHANGED my brain chemistry. But the pre happy pills arc stream, the one with the clock, I think that's the marking point for me. Because I cried when he wrote the letter to Richas, and let me tell you something, I don't cry easily watching media. The only times I had previously cried were:

Opening up KH3 and hearing dearly beloved for the first time (I had spent MY WHOLE LIFE SINCE 2013 waiting for KH3)

"Unsaid Emily" from Julie and the Phantoms (I have issues with my mom.)

Super Sonic in Sonic 2 movie ( Im a big sonic fan lmao)

So the fact that I cried with that letter SHOCKED ME. Never in a million years I'd have thought I would be crying over minecraft rp. And then in the next day he pulls the rug from underneath out of his viewers feets with the happy pills arc, surprising EVERYONE. The happy pills arc is still my favorite qsmp arc of them all and I hold it very close to my heart.

I think it's kinda funny that I kinda had the same evolution towards rp as Forever did- at the beginning the thought rp was cringe and said he'd only play normal minecraft in the qsmp, and now he delivered us two AMAZING arcs full of rp (I'm never getting over him smiling and crying to richarlystone and the black make up with the bleached hair, what the fuck)

I think I just fried my no sleep brain after writing all this cause Idk what else to write LOL. I appreciate cc!forever a lot for all he has brought to the table in the qsmp, for how he started as "haha funny brazilian man with his antics screaming and being funny obsessed over philza" and ended with one of the most tragic qsmp characters ever. I appreciate cc!forever for changing my view towards mcrp.

And also thank quackity for inviting forever to the qsmp and thank philza for having a urahara skin LMAO things would have gone very different for me if it wasnt for them.

I'll be keeping up with stonkscraft 3, but whenever forever comes back to the qsmp I'll be ready with my arms open to embrace what this man brings to the qsmp <3

also I WAS NOT KIDDING WHEN I SAID MY GRIEF OVER QFOREVER SERVED AS A FUEL FOR MY WORK OUT. i never progressed so much weight before (my leg press is insane wtf) and never did such a well done cardio on a >leg day< before what the actual shit

#qsmp #qsmp forever

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