#forest being

“I do happen to know this,” they say, warmly, and you want to hide your face permanently. “Besides, have you not spent a large amount of time with me?” They ask, having regained their composure. You lower your hands, peeking between splayed fingers to see that same almost-smile on their wooden face. Are they… Are they teasing you? They are.

“That’s, it’s true, but-”

“You may refuse me,” Aspen tells you, leaning in even closer, like it’s a secret. “I will not be offended, I promise you.”

This is absolutely surreal. Now that the thought is in your head, you can’t deny that you’re curious. Aspen is some kind of fairy-tale forest spirit, and despite their claim of being able to imitate- Imitate what? Humans? You have to wonder what exactly that is supposed to mean. Human body parts? You don’t quite recall anything humanoid about their body other than their shape, but- Perhaps Aspen just means the act in some way, as- Well, frankly.. they’re magic. What does keeping company with a being made entirely of magic entail?

The wind picks up, making you shiver, and Aspen promptly draws you in close to their chest. You tense, startled by the movement, but when your hand comes to rest on the smooth bark of their chest, it’s warm. It shouldn’t be such a surprise, not really. You’d felt warmth when they’d breathed, which means the core of them is… heated, somehow. You stroke your hand over one of the whorls, reminded of worry stones and residual body heat, and glance back up at their face.

“Proximity raises human body temperatures, yes?” Aspen asks you, and there’s that same flicker of something green as they speak, eyes glimmering with humor, fingers gentle against your back. “I can at least keep you properly heated.”

“Yes,” you say, distracted, and still mildly embarrassed. “I- You have a tongue?” You ask, hoping you’re not crossing some kind of line because yes. Obviously they have a tongue, you saw it.

Rather than respond, Aspen’s jaw opens just a bit wider and- their tongue - tongues? They remind you of vines. There aren’t any leaves growing on them, just thick, pale green tendrils, moving like some kind of sped up video of growing things. There’s a faint sheen to them, and you wonder if they’re sticky or slick. You wonder if they’re as warm as the rest of Aspen seems to be.. You keep your hands to yourself, clenching them in your lap, though you desperately want to touch.

“Ah.”

“Is there something amiss?” Aspen asks, tongue disappearing back into their mouth. “You appear to be- strange-feeling. Upset?”

That’s definitely one way to put it.

“Not upset, not at all!” You rush to say. “Human curiosity is just… A lot sometimes,” you explain, and then Aspen is laughing again.

“Well, Lovely, if ever you feel the need to sate it…” Aspen trails off, sounding a little sly as they bundle their arms closer around you. Their face is close again, the scent of greenery strong in the air. You wonder if you’re going to smell like you’ve been rolling in it, later, if it’s going to cloud over you like perfume.

You bark out a laugh, and almost immediately regret it. Aspen twitches, surprised by your outburst, and even though they’re careful, the way their hands tighten about you has you startled in turn. And, if you’re being completely honest, a little thrilled. It’s entirely ludicrous, and some part of you is insisting that you need to forget about what they’ve said, what they’ve offered. But. They did offer.  

“Did you learn that from a human? Or humans?” You ask, slightly breathless. “Because that rather sounds like a pick-up line.”

There’s that strange almost smile again, and their hold on you loosens.

“Only if it’s working,” they tell you smugly. “Is it?”

You blink, jaw working soundlessly.  Aspen tilts their head back at the sight, jaw parting in an approximation of a grin, their eyes closing, and starts laughing again. Their laughter, the rumble of it, the vibration, reaches down into the core of you, pulling desire out just a bit further.

“It… It is,” you say softly, heart beating fast. You assume they won’t hear. Not over their laughter, not with the breeze picking up and melding with the noise- but Aspen slowly stops. Their eyes seem brighter when them open them, looking back down at you cradled carefully in their arms.

“You’re sure, Lovely?” Aspen asks, and while they still look pleased, there’s a sense of nervousness filling the air now. They had been worried about you running from them, and you might have proven that fear a true one, if they hadn’t immediately approached and then plucked you up from the ground like some errant flower. Regardless of the reason why, it is nice to be asked.

“Yes, Aspen, I’m sure,” you say, hoping your smile is only mildly shy and not awkward looking. “Whether the pickup line was good or not?” You tilt your hand from side to side, like you’re unsure and trying to balance it out. “It is working,” you assure them, leaning closer to their face.

Aspen breathes out, like you’ve assuaged all their worries with those words. You have to blink with the sudden force of their breath - it ruffles your eyelashes. The scent of sweet grass is stronger now, lingering in the air about you like mild perfume.

“Then might I ask for a kiss?”

They sound so genteel, even with that strange echo of a voice. Your eyes dart down to their mouth, to the barest hints of pale green vines flickering in and out of view as they speak. Aspen doesn’t have lips, but-

“Of course,” you say softly, reaching out and then jerking your hands back when Aspen adjusts you in their grip. Their apology is quiet and waved away with little more than a nervous smile. As soon as you feel secure, as soon as they’ve stopped moving, you reach out again, bracing your hands gently against their chin. You’re still hesitant, seeing the reflection of your face in their dark eyes, watching them close, as smoothly as you blink. You could keep waiting, for more excuses just to stare, to explore the sight of them from head to toe- You seize the moment though, before you make either of you more nervous.

You start just above the line of their mouth, pressing your lips against the smooth looking wood, wondering if there will be any give… There isn’t. Aspen is temperate and they are truly smooth though, so you aren’t chafing your lips against bark, but you’re unsure how this feels for them. After a moment of kissing a line just above their mouth though, Aspen tilts their head. Those pale green shoots flicker out of their mouth, farther even than when they’d shown you. Their vines trace the seam of your closed lips, mildly sticky, and cautiously, you open your mouth to them.

The taste of them is sweet, like nectar fresh from a blooming flower. Aspen seems to have control of all of them, and moves as slowly as you had been, undulating before a single vine wraps around your tongue. It’s only for a short moment and then they’re pulling back. The sensation is odd, as they don’t quite have the same texture as a human tongue, but not unpleasant. You can’t help licking your lips after though, chasing the sweet taste.

“Do all humans taste so-” Aspen cocks their head, searching for the word.

Your heart skips. You’re not sure what you’re expecting, for them to say bad or like animal, perhaps. Something that might mean this will never happen again, and… You don’t want that. To lose this, not when you’ve just begun.

“Lovely?”

You blink and then try and muffle a soft snort into your own shoulder. A forest spirit, born of lust and love, and they make jokes. “I think,” you say, trying to school your face into seriousness, “that each human is a bit different. And it probably depends on what they’ve eaten that day.” The kiss was… Sweet, yes, but exciting. You want to taste them again, but more than that, you just want to try again. To feel, to learn the shape of them.

Aspen hums, tilting their head towards you- and then pauses a few scant inches from your face. “May I have another?” They ask, and you find yourself shivering at the words.

“Formal, aren’t you?” You can’t help asking, lifting your hands to brace yourself again. Why refuse, when you’re just as curious, just as interested in them as they are in you? Your lips part and their vines slip in.

After more than a moment of their vine rolling smoothly into your mouth and around your tongue, leaving you hazy eyed with nothing but the taste of nectar, the kiss- feels a little more obscene than sweet and innocent. Your lips close and you suck and then Aspen makes such a long, drawn out groan of a noise that you pull back in surprise.

They’re still cradling you carefully, but they seem to be shaking, and you notice after a moment that all the greenery on them seems to be growing. Aspen was brought into being by feelings of lust… Are you- are they feeding on it?

“Are you okay?” You ask, stroking your hand over their wooden cheek. There are new buds on the branches of their head, tiny things, but you’re entirely sure that they weren’t there before.

“Wonderful,” Aspen says, breathing out slowly. “You make me feel like Spring,” they confess, tone full of wanting.

Part of you wants to laugh, wants to joke about how this is bringing an entirely new meaning to your love of trees and plant life, but you don’t want to offend them. Even though you very much doubt they’ll hurt you now, you are afraid of inadvertently hurting their feelings, because you like them. Without a doubt, Aspen is different, and you can’t say you wouldn’t scream if they surprised you in the dark - they’re so large and they’re holding you six feet off the ground - but they’re kind and… Absolutely astonishing. They left the relative safety of stillness, of watching, because they wanted to speak with you, meet you. If anyone else had truly seen them, beyond just their shadow moving through the dark, you don’t know what anyone else would have done. Cowering or running in fear is probably the best that Aspen could have hoped for, and somehow-

“I like the way you sway with my words,” they confess, and it takes you a moment to realize that they mean shiver. Every time they speak, it brings goosebumps spiraling over your flesh. “And the warmth of you-” Aspen shifts, settling you in the crook of one arm so they can reach up and stroke a single finger over the apple of your cheek. “Why are you so much warmer than the others?” They ask, though from their tone, you’re not entirely sure that they’re actually asking so much as wondering the words aloud.

“Others?” You murmur, hesitant to interrupt the obvious admiration in their eyes.

“Humans,” Aspen clarifies, or tries to clarify. It doesn’t actually explain much. “Those of you that sit against the base of my trunk, that lean against my legs- None of the others are as warm as you. Have ever been as warm as you.”

“I…” Honestly, you don’t have a concrete answer for that. The only potential answers you have are wisps of thought, carried away on the chill breeze, and you’re still kind of reeling from their kiss.

Aspen shakes their head, bits of lichen rippling with the never mind motion. “...I would still like to taste more of you. Is that the way with humans too? This want for more?”

A smirk quirks your lips upwards before you try and smooth it out. “Yes,” you say with certainty. You lean into their touch on your cheek and Aspen’s dark eyes trace over your face- and then down, to where your body is resting in their arm.

“Could I?” They ask after a moment of silence, branch-like finger finally drawing away from your face.

“Taste more of me?” You ask, overly conscious of their gaze on your thighs. Even with the chill in the air now though, you’re growing warmer. It’s kind of hard not to, with embarrassment and desire warring within you, speeding your heart- and it might just be your imagination, but it rather feels like Aspen is just a tad bit warmer too.

Aspen just nods, a slow tilt of their head towards you that draws your attention to the new buds on their branches. You wonder, if you kiss them again, if you let them taste more of you, if those buds will burst into bloom. You press your lips together to keep yourself from biting them and slowly, hesitantly, start to slide your arms out of your sweatshirt. You might regret this part of things, because despite the rising warmth between the two of you, it is still cold outside. But you want to know more of them too, to have them touch you- and perhaps touch them in return? And Aspen is.. Is watching you, closely and they look eager, for all that they don’t have a very large variance of facial expressions.

You shiver as soon as the sweatshirt leaves your shoulders and then gasp in surprise when Aspen adjusts you again. They make a basket of their fingers and hands, cradling you from shoulders to thighs, and- You have the clear and sudden thought that this is the perfect way to hold you if they want your legs wrapped around their face.

You're not sure if that's presumptuous of you or not. Maybe they only mean tasting some of your skin? Regardless, you’ve been coaxed halfway out of your clothes, you’ve left your sweater hanging over their wrist and your fingers are starting to work on the top button of your trousers.

“Might I kiss you again?” Aspen asks, noting your sudden shiver as the breeze tickles over your partially bared stomach. Their breath helps though, almost immediately, seeping under your clothes like a well angled heater. They seem almost reluctant to tear their gaze away from your bared skin, but the thought of another kiss, of the heat that fills you, the both of you-

“Please,” you say softly, as they bring you in close. Your trousers are halfway down your legs, but your shoes are still on, and you’re not willing to do some kind of acrobatic move this high up. Your shoes come to rest on their chest and then Aspen is kissing you again.

The feeling of their writhing tongues slipping back into your mouth has you making soft pleased noises and Aspen’s fingers tremble in their hold on you. When you suck again, Aspen wheezes, and the temperature around them ratchets up a few degrees. It’s still cold, but now you feel sheltered from the wind whistling through near-by branches, like you’ve stepped into a warm pocket of air. They take the vines away, leaving you breathing hard and then trail them down your neck.

They twist and lightly pinch in places, almost like they’re trying to nip without teeth, and you have to remind yourself - they’ve been watching over Makeout Point for… a long time. Aspen probably can imitate most things they’ve seen humans doing, having witnessed so much of it.

Aspen moves lower and then you gasp, clutching to their hands as they sit down. Your sweater flutters through the air, caught in the draft of their movement and then your hips are arching as their tongues slick along your thighs.

“Oh, that-” you breathe in shakily and then gasp out a quiet laugh, noting the buds starting to open on their branches. Something about this is feeding them, you think, but it doesn’t seem to be harming you any. Not unless you count how weak you feel with wanting. They lift you higher, and with their hands occupied, they use those pale green vines of theirs to tug at one leg of your trousers, pulling off one of your shoes in the process. Apparently you are going to wrap your thighs around their face.

If Aspen’s head or mouth were any larger, if they had teeth, you might feel a little awkward. You might think they wanted to eat you in a much less pleasing way- but this is pleasing. Their tongues have grown slicker and you can’t help the soft whimper that escapes you as they finally flicker over your most intimate parts. They start out gentle and slow, humming at the first taste of you and then they groan when you buck up into their touch.

“Pleh... you?” Aspen asks, words garbled with their tongues moving against you. Please you is easy enough to make out though.

“Yes,” you say, clutching tightly to their hands to keep yourself balanced. “Y- fuck. You really did take tip- tips from-” Their tongues roll, and then squeeze and you desperately want to keep arching your hips, to help them find a rhythm because you’re getting close already.

“You feel- you feel wonderful, Aspen,” you get out, gaze darting from their tongues back up to their great, dark eyes and the soft fern of their eyelashes. You’re going to come out of this a shaking mess. You bite your lower lip, heat building as they stroke and lick, until your orgasm rushes over you like the tide. You stifle the noises you want to make, biting your lip a little harder as you throw your head back, your legs twitching against their wooden cheeks. When they finally pull away, leaving you shaking in the basket of their hands, you push yourself up into a sitting position, ignoring how achy you know you’re going to feel later. Laying on branch-like fingers isn’t exactly good for anyone's back.

Aspen is staring down at you smugly when you finally meet their eyes, the buds on their head in full, riotous bloom, swaying in the wind. They look like spring flowers, and you can’t help but wonder if they’re going to last in this cold weather.

Before you can ask if you can return the favor somehow though, Aspen is tilting their head, glancing back over their shoulder like they hear something.

“Is everything-”

“Other humans are coming, Lovely,” they murmur, sighing. They set you back down on your unsteady feet, near where your sweater and shoe fell, but they don’t take away their grip on you. Which is a good thing, you might have fallen otherwise. “Young ones,” they say, and it’s then that you notice how dark it’s gotten. Teenagers then, looking to make use of the fire-pit. You hobble around, pulling your clothes back on and setting yourself to rights. “Will you return for… More company?” They ask, sounding wistful and shy as you balance with one hand on theirs. Your shoe finally pops back on.

“Try and keep me away,” you tease, and then immediately feel a little shy. You just- No. You don’t need to worry about things right now.

“I look forward to your next visit,” they say, softer than anything they’ve said yet- and then you notice the voices coming up the path.

As soon as the teens make it into the clearing, you’re left staring up at a solid looking, normal tree. If you didn’t know any better, you would assume you imagined the whole thing- but there are still flowers blooming in Aspen’s branches and your thighs and abdomen still feel weak with the force of your orgasm. And… You’re strangely warm now, like whatever magic that brought them into being, that sprung up between the two of you, has left traces. You still feel like you’re caught in that warm air pocket, protected from the chill air.

“-and then I heard- whoa,” One of the teen boys mutters, flashlight bouncing to a stop on you standing beneath the tree. “Scared us!” He says with an awkward laugh, glancing at the four others trailing along behind him, all of them toting their own lights.

“Ah, sorry,” you say with an awkward wave, and then freeze when one of the flowers floats to the ground in front of you. You pick it up, smiling shyly, and glance back up at the tree- you still can’t see any traces of Aspen in it’s trunk though. “Don’t worry guys, I’m heading out.”

“Have a light?” The same boy asks. “Gets super dark out here,” he says, like he assumes you must have no idea. “I can.. Walk you back? If you don’t. Was your car the-”

You bob your head, mildly surprised, but pleased by the offer. “Yeah! And a quick walk back would be nice. I can find my way once the trees open up again.”

Halfway back down the path, with the boy nervously fidgeting beside you, he can’t seem to keep quiet any longer. “Hey, you- you’ve heard about the creature out here, right?”

You laugh. “I think everyone around here has heard about that,” you say with a smile.

“What do you think it is? Gabe back there keeps saying Bigfoot, but I heard one of the people working at Shell say they think it’s some.. Shadow thing, searching for-”

His words halt when you snort. “I think, whatever it is out there, it found what it was looking for. No one has seen it for, what? The last week?”

“Yeah, I think so,” he murmurs, coming to a stop. He huddles further into his hoodie, like the cold is wrapping around his bones. You… You don’t feel cold at all still though. Mildly uncomfortable, maybe, but not shivering.

“And it’s most definitely not looking to scare anyone. Anyway, keep warm, hm? And thanks for the light!” You wave him off, watching him hustle to get back to his friends and then make a beeline for your car in the dusty parking area. As soon as your car door closes, you find yourself pausing, staring out at the swaying shadows of the trees. You need to plan a few more hikes out here before the cold turns icy. Despite Aspen’s strange warmth, you don’t really want to be snowed on if you’re keeping them company.

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