#Gia speaks up | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

filledwithair · 1 year ago

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saw this color coded quiz to @sustainably-du-mortain and had to do it for my babys

Elise - green character

Green characters are often hotheaded and brash, unafraid to speak their mind. They make for excellent leaders and teachers, and tend to be most devoted to a specific field, which they do well in. They have a lot of confidence in themselves, and although they can’t always see themselves positively, they are good about respecting themselves. They have a lot of common sense but are equally likely to strategically plan something out as to rush in on an impulse. They often have to work hard to get others to respect them, and sometimes receive less of it when people find out who they are. Still, they are not afraid to make others uncomfortable by being themselves, and are unlikely to waver when someone wants them to change against their will. They can be brash and loud, but also very quiet and secretive. Their humor can be a bit rude, and they don’t always display friendship and affection to the people they care about in the most conventional ways. However, they’re quite easygoing, witty, and fun-loving people. They don’t like when people are flighty and prefer to work with people who don’t quit and stand their ground. They stand out from others, both because of the way they approach the world, and because of how skilled they tend to be at what they do. Some people may not suspect that they are harmonious because of their blunt nature, but they are surprisingly good and reasonable diplomats, and can employ a lot of meaningful tact when the situation calls for it. They may feel a sense of distance or abandonment from their parental figures, as they often became emotionally or physically absent sometime in their life. Green characters hate being told what to do and put into a box, and are likely to challenge authority. They can be hard to work with at times due to their stubbornness, but they bring a lot to the table and tend to round out their friend groups. They need people in their lives who respect them, care about them, and listen to them, as well as offer them companionship without requiring them to conform to a certain preset standard.

Gia - dark blue character

Dark Blue characters are kindhearted and responsible, driven to care for others around them. They are good at strategizing in the heat of the moment, but are also quite impulsive and rush into things without a plan when they are fired up. While calm people and patient teachers, they are quite hotheaded and not afraid to stand up for what they believe in. Their sense of morality guides them, both into battle, and into healing. They get along with a wide range of people, but do have a temper that causes them to get into short-lived disagreements. They don’t like to be seen as inferior, as much of their strength comes from the softness inside of them. They like being needed and helpful, and want people to agree that they know what’s best for them, although others can get annoyed at what they perceive as nagging. They take turns being the voice of reason and the reason for the voice. They can hold their own, and believe in respecting everyone as long as everyone is respectful in turn. They often had to grow up fast and mature early, which they both take pride in and resent. They are likely to join a just cause on a whim, and do what it takes to develop the skillset they need to best help the cause, although they prefer to be at the center of the action. If they feel no one is doing anything and it needs to be done, they’ll step in. They are often close to prodigies, having some sort of incredible skill that they can expertly hone. They are inspirational and have a lot of emotional maturity. They can both maneuver people through their hardships and inspire them to rise up. They can often ignore their own feelings and needs in the process of being a sort of martyr for others, however, and can grow resentful when no one pays attention to them like they do for others. Dark blue characters need people in their lives who will encourage and uplift them in whatever cause they choose to support, as well as give them space to talk out their feelings. They also need others who will recognize when they are taking too much responsibility on, and take some time to give them care and support and affirm their willingness to care.

Carol - yellow character

Yellow characters tend to be positive and upbeat people, who try to see the bright side in most situations (although the older a character is, the less likely they’ll be as openly positive). They’re friendly and energetic much of the time, and while often genuine it can become a cover for their more negative feelings. They tend to have a lot of skill in one specific area which they have to work hard to harness and use properly. Because of this skill they can be put up on a pedestal and have high expectations placed on them to perform. Often these expectations also come from themselves. They have a strong sense of responsibility and duty placed on them that can cause them to develop a bit of a savior complex, blaming themselves for not being able to protect everyone around them. They are diffusers and peacemakers, preferring to be in harmony with everyone, sometimes making it confusing when others around them are not this way. They’re pretty cheerful and bubbly and usually the light of their friend group. They care about their friends a lot, and go out of their way to show it, although it can cause them to be jealous when they feel as if they aren’t being included. While kind people, they also have a competitive streak and like to win. They love fun and are likely to get sidetracked and drag their friends along with them. Others are able to relax in their presence and enjoy themselves, and it’s hard not to like a yellow character. While these characters may be warm and diligent though, they also have a hard time taking risks, generally preferring to stay in their comfort zone. They can have a bit of both a main character and a savior complex because of how much responsibility they put on themselves, and while well meaning it can irk other characters. Sometimes they go too far trying to help and interfere with others, and when they don’t want to do something they will often shut down and distract themselves from it. They are surprisingly mature for how innocent they seem, and when in a healthy place they always give their best effort. They are wise and interpersonal and really tie their friend group together. Yellow characters need to be given a safe space to release negative emotions without letting them build up, and they need people in their life who will help them keep a healthy balance of work and play without pressuring them too much.

#this were super spot on #elise can be tactfull but choses no to #she is petty when chosing the bed arrangement but not with rowan when they finally talk #not sure about the common sense though she did get into the fight with UW #gia is kind #that's her word #but she isnt afraid of speaking up especially for her band #and she is an amazing teacher in another universes she would be a hs teacher #gia neglecting her own emotion in favour to others????? totally #i think she is aware she does that but it's easier to ignore it #and not break the dam #and finally carol #she reminds me of spring sunny and warm #can also be tempestuous especially when competing #probably her need to win is the reason she put herself in an unreachable pedestal #oc: elise st james #oc: gia di fiore #oc: carol rezza

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roses-and-revolutions · 5 months ago

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Two Can Keep a Secret If One Of Them Is Dead

Damian Wayne, the youngest son of Bruce Wayne realizes that he doesn't want to be fighting crime for the rest of his life, nor does he want any major part of his father's company. With the utmost support of his friends and family, he pursues an art degree at GIA, Gotham Institute of the Arts.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng, the adopted daughter of Sabine Cheng and Tom Dupain, after completing her duties as Ladybug and passing the title to a suitable successor, pursues her dreams of becoming a fashion designer alongside her boyfriend Adrien Agreste. They decided that they needed to get away from Paris for a while so they went to Gotham Institute of the Arts.

Daniel 'just Danny' Fenton, recently adopted son of the Drs Fenton (what do mean I haven't been adopted in the 9 years you had me!!!), wasn't sure what to do with his life after his dreams of being an astronaut were crushed. But after getting stuck in a thermos with Ember for about a week he developed a new obsession with music. After fixing his grades and perfecting his portfolio, he was accepted into GIA's music course. He was worried about being alone in Gotham but with Tucker getting into GU and Jazz transferring there, Sam and Valerie just across the bay in Metropolis, everything looks like they're going to be fine.

A few weeks into the school year a video is going viral on Twitter. Damian Wayne and two other people who look similar to him are shouting in a cafe near the school. Well, only two of them are shouting the other one is chill as fuck. They're speaking in Arabic so not many people can understand them. The ones who do chalk it up to this: "Two of you are lying and the other one is supposed to be dead!"

Well, ain't that something?

#dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #mlb x dc x dp #mlb x dp #The reason they ended up in the same cafe together is becuse they somehow made the same mutual friends who invited #to work on a year long project that spands throuhout departments #They all walk in a few muintes within eachother

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giafaeryprincess · 3 months ago

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It's what's on the inside that matters. We should be spending money(if we live in a money-grubbing world & we do) on feeling HEALTHY and FIT. Because also plus yep didn't u know that fitness and health is attractive and always looks good, no matter the person's other features.

Also I disagree with acquiring knowledge. Because acquiring knowledge can twist and turn the mind to points of incoherence. Knowledge is of the mind, not of the heart or soul. And what matters is our hearts our souls. Mind is miraculous, but stupid .

Any money you spend on acquiring knowledge, looking good or eating well is never a waste. Invest in yourself

#gia speaks up #philosophy #conversation #communication #anti capitalism

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ailoda · 5 days ago

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˚☽˚.⋆ favourite writers

@moonstruckme

@ellecdc

@luveline

@sunnami

@crescenthistory

@unconventional-lawnchair

@iamgonnagetyouback

˚☽˚.⋆ favourite fics

Someone You Loved - @bobluvbot

Your relationship with Sirius hurt so much, that the only way forward was to forget.

This was the first fic I thought of when compiling this list. Words truly can't explain the feelings that I have, but I'll do my best :) It's absolutely breathtaking in its emotional depth and storytelling finesse. From the very first line, it draws you into a world of tender vulnerability and aching love. It's so beautifully crafted and executed, with each scene building on the last to create a narrative that feels as natural as it is compelling. The pacing is also spot-on, giving the emotional beats the room to land while steadily moving the plot forward. And don't get me started on the storyline; it's so heartfelt and bittersweet, weaving themes of loss, healing, and love in a way the feels so deeply personal. It doesn't shy away from the complexities of emotions, instead embracing them fully to create a story that lingers with you long after you've finished reading (I say this after MONTHS of failing to get over this fic). One thing that makes it so captivating is the way it captures the quiet moments—the unsaid words, lingering touches—that speak volumes. Additionally, the characterisation is stunning. The emotions of the characters are so raw and real that you can't help but be swept up in their journey. The way Dani balances the pain and hope is truly masterful, creating a dynamic that feels authentic and deeply moving. It's in the smallest details—the expressions, the gestures, even the silences—that the characters truly come alive, making their emotions feel almost tangible. Overall, this fic is a masterpiece of quiet intensity. It's not just a story—it's an experience that grips you by the heart, breaks it, and then carefully stitches it back together. I can only pray to the heavens above that there is a part two.

The Way I See You - @g1rld1ary

You're an artist, but you never let any of your friends see your work. They finally attend one of your exhibits and see your feelings on paper.

Again, one of the first fics I thought of when compiling this list. It's a beautifully tender exploration of love, self-perception, and quiet acceptance. From the first moment, it captivates you, drawing you into a story that feels both deeply personal and universally relatable. The pacing is gentle yet purposeful, allowing each emotional beat to resonate fully while weaving together a narrative that keeps you wholly invested until the very last word. The storyline is a masterclass in subtlety and emotion, perfectly capturing the struggles of vulnerability and self-doubt while showing the transformative power of love (sappy, I know, but true). The way Gia is able to build the relationship is nothing short of magical (hehe)—it's not rushed or overly-dramatic but instead grows organically through meaningful conversations, thoughtful actions, and quiet moments of connection and vulnerability. Remus is portrayed with such depth and nuance that you can't help but fall in love with him, and the reader's perspective is equally as compelling, making their emotions feel raw and real. The dynamic between them is so beautifully balanced, filling with an unspoken understanding and a tenderness that feels comforting and inspiring. What I love most about this fic is its ability to convey so much through the little things—soft touches, lingering looks, and words that carry weight far beyond their surface meaning. It's a story that feels intimate and personal, like it was written just for you. It's the kind of fic that stays with you, a quiet reminder of how love can be a healing force. It’s heartfelt, gorgeously written, and brimming with the kind of warmth that makes you want to read it over and over again—which I have :)

We Can't Be Friends (wait for your love.) - @sunnami

A joke about Remus having cute kids gets away from you in the best way.

An absolute masterclass in the subtle tension and emotional complexity of a poly relationship. The slow-burn of this story is one of its greatest strengths, and the way it unfolds allows each of the Marauders to shine individually while also showing the deep connections between them. The alternating dynamics between the reader and each of the Marauders—whether it's the tenderness, the playful teasing, or the quiet understanding—feels organic and never forced. You get a real sense of their relationships with the reader, as well as the unique chemistry each character brings to the trio. The storyline itself is deeply emotional, masterfully exploring each character and their own fears and hesitations, but ultimately supporting one another. Not only that, but the pacing is flawless, allowing space for the characters to work through their doubts and understandings, making the eventual culmination of their feelings all the more satisfying. The emotional stakes of this fic are heightened by the poly dynamic, and it’s this aspect that gives the relationships such rich depth. The way the characters handle their growing feelings for each other—dealing with jealousy, communication, and discovering how their bond can work—feels real and raw. But what really stands out to me is how each Marauder’s unique traits complement the others. Whether it’s James’ boldness, Sirius’ charm, or Remus’ quiet understanding, their interactions are electric, and you can feel the genuine affection they have for one another. There’s a sweetness to how they come together, each step in their journey feeling more intimate and grounded in trust and understanding. The ending is the perfect balance of emotional payoff and hope. It captures the essence of relationships—complex, imperfect, but filled with love—and leaves you with a sense of warmth and contentment. I re-read this fic so many times it's unhealthy.

Bless the Telephone - @777heavengirl

James Potter is positively useless with muggle technology, doesn't matter how much Remus tries to teach him, James cannot seem to grasp it— even the telephone. It’s not so bad though— At least he met you

This series is just an absolute gem—sweet, nostalgic, and just brimming with charm. It's barely just begun, but I'm so excited to read what's next! It strikes the perfect balance between lighthearted fun and deeper, emotional beats, creating a story that feels complete yet leaves you wanting more. Every interaction feels meaningful, whether it’s the playful banter that leaves you grinning, or the quieter moments of vulnerability that tug at your heartstrings. James Potter as a character is written to perfection; his charisma practically leaps off the page, but it's his softer, more tender side that truly shines. His and the reader's dynamic is so well-crafted that you can't help but root for them from the start. What I love most about it is how effortlessly it captures the warmth and excitement of falling in love. It's the little moments—the playful teasing, the stolen moments and unspoken emotions—that make it feel so real and relatable. It feels like being wrapped in a warm blanket.

You Woke Me Up For This? - @crescenthistory

Barty is bored in the middle of the night, so of course he goes to you.

Carina is a favourite for a reason—showcased by how difficult it was to choose only one fic. But this fic is an absolute delight— a perfect mix of humour, tenderness, and moments to give you butterflies. It's sharp and intentional, with a pacing that keeps you engaged from start to finish. Each scene is crafted so well, creating a soft and seamless flow that pulls you into the story while allowing the humour, emotion, and vulnerability to shine. The storyline is simple but so brilliantly executed; thriving on the charm of its characters and the intimate hilarity of their interactions, building a warm undercurrent of affection. What I adore about and serves as a testament to Carina's writing ability is the way it turns a seemingly mundane situation into something so endearingly extraordinary, layering humour and and heart in a way that feels both naturally and deeply satisfying. It has many strengths, but one of the fic's greatest is its character dynamics. The banter is somehow sharp and witty while perfectly balancing with the moments of genuine vulnerability that catch you off guard in the best way. The dialogue also feels so alive in a way that it manages to capture the personalities of the characters so vividly that you can practically hear their voices and guess their next reaction. What truly sets it apart is how it manages to intertwine the comedic and the heartfelt so seamlessly. The humour serves it's purpose masterfully without undermining the emotion, and the tender moments never feel out of place amidst the humour. It's a story that leaves you smiling—not only because it's funny, but because it's brimming with an endearing warmth and charm.

Morose Manatees - @ellecdc

James is told to leave barty x potter!reader alone.

Difficult to choose only one from Elle, but it has to be a Barty one for me, and this one is my favourite. It's a perfect mix of humour, affection, and heartwarming emotional beats, all centred around an unlikely yet perfect pairing. It moves so seamlessly between lighthearted banter and deeper, meaningful conversations while keeping the tone playful and engaging. What I love is how the dialogue showcases the character's personalities and quirks so effortlessly, especially the way they interact with each other—light, teasing, yet full of care. The storyline itself is full of charm and unexpected sweetness. The absurdity of the manatee discussion serves as a perfect backdrop for showcasing the growing affection between Barty and the reader, and as a wider representation of their relationship as a whole. James' perspective adds an extra layer of humour, with his frustration and eventual reluctant acceptance adding a perfect contrast to the lovey-dovey moments between Barty and the reader. The interactions between James and Regulus are just as compelling, with Regulus providing the right balance of humour and emotional depth as he offers his candid observations on love and loyalty—almost like a reflection of reader and Barty. What makes this fic so special is the way it portrays love—quiet, patient, and tender (the kind of love I want). Barty’s devotion to the reader is so evident, and the fic never shies away from showing how truly devoted he is, even in the smallest gestures. Whether it’s holding hands, softly kissing knuckles, or engaging in a bizarre but sweet conversation about aquatic creatures, the emotional connection between them is palpable and heartwarming. An adorable representation of tender love that leaves you smiling and wishing for your own Barty.

A Christmas Special - @moonstruckme

After Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you.

You cannot have a Marauders 2024 favourites list without including Mae, it's just which one to choose! I'm settled and happy with my choice—one that represents Mae's writing brilliantly. Now, where do I begin with this fic? It's pure magic. What truly stands out is the narrative flow—it feels like one big scene as each one flows seamlessly into the next, which creates this beautiful narrative that feels cohesive yet dynamic. Not only that, but the pacing is masterful, giving the moments of quiet intimacy the room to breathe while keeping the plot moving forward so brilliantly. Similarly, the storyline itself is a beautiful blend of festive fluff and heartfelt emotion. It balances that carefree happiness with deeper, more personal connections, making each interaction feel layered and meaningful. But Mae's attention to subtle intimacy and overall detail is what makes this story truly shine. From the small gestures that speak volumes to the way the setting is described with such vividness and clarity, it feels as though you're in the story with them. What I love most, however, is how the character's dynamics are brought to life and feel more than words on a page. Their chemistry radiates—not in a forced or overly-dramatic way, but through the kind of subtle, unspoken moments that leave you smiling and kicking your feet like an idiot. There's a particular sweetness in how the characters navigate their feelings, blending playful banter with quiet and tender vulnerability that is written so excellently it feels like you're moving along with them. All of Mae's skills I feel are fully encapsulated in this one fic—to the point where I've just barely scratched the surface as to why I love it so much (I could write an essay with references and everything), but I think I've put my point across enough for now :)

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eiightysixbaby · 5 months ago

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rise and shine

pairing: farmhand!jonathan x farmer’s daughter!fem!reader

jonathan works on your father’s farm, and you’re strictly forbidden to mess around with him. but on a sweltering summer day one thing leads to the next, and i guess what your father doesn’t know won’t hurt him… (5.5k)

cw: 18+ ONLY - SMUT. oral (m + f receiving), unprotected piv, creampie, use of petnames, jonathan’s nickname for reader is ‘birdie’, this is filthyyyy so pls let me know if i forgot anything lol

a/n: farmhand!jonathan was born during a conversation with @onegirlmanytales, so this one is for you gia. our beautiful beautiful boy <3 as always, reblogs are so incredibly appreciated! love u guys xoxo

The heat is already unbearable, and the sun is barely even up. The kind of dry, suffocating warmth that steals your breath and makes you feel sluggish.

A golden morning glow is cast across the fields as Jonathan stomps towards the barn, the rubbery soles of his boots crunching against dry grass. He heaves open the heavy metal latch to the thick wooden door, inhaling the stale, overwhelming scent of the animals. He’s mostly used to the smells by now, though they’re amplified on the brutally hot days like this one.

He starts his path from one stall to the next. His favorite horse, Nimbus, presses her hoof into the dusty dirt of the barn floor, chortling at him. A smile graces his features as he reaches a hand out to stroke her long snout, palm flat against the bristly softness of her coat.

“Hey, girl. Good morning,” he speaks softly to her, and she nuzzles into his hand. He gives her a few extra scratches for good measure before he continues to walk through and greet the rest of the bunch.

There's three other horses in this barn, along with the cows. The rabbits have their own coop outside, as do the chickens and ducks. He knows the morning routine like the back of his hand, and he floats through his tasks as if on autopilot. The animals get kisses and pats from him, snacks and fresh water. Even as he sweats through his clothes, he feels at peace caring for them all.

All of the animals seem to like him; even the ones with the wildest tempers turn mild when he's around. He tries to be modest about this, but his mom and brother definitely hear him gush about it when he comes home from a long day. He can’t help it, he’s a little bit proud of himself.

He's collecting eggs from the hens when he spots you. Beautiful, bright, perfect you flouncing down the porch steps in your pretty sundress, the fabric adorned with what he assumes are tiny flowers but can't quite discern from this distance. The yellow metal watering can sways in your hand, clanking against the concrete slab beneath the water spout as you set it down.

He doesn’t realize how hard he’s been staring until you turn to him with a cheery wave.

“Mornin’ Jonathan!” you call, and he feels his cheeks flush with warmth at the realization of being caught.

He waves, a half smile gracing his lips. “Morning, Birdie.”

The nickname is one he’d given you after he caught you awake early one morning, feeding the birds and taking notes about each type that visited your porch. He’d approached as quietly as he could so as not to disturb them, and he let you show him the feathers you’d collected and the sketches you’d done of the creatures. He marveled at it all, really, and unbeknownst to you it only made him more smitten for you.

If he's honest with himself, the best moments of his days working the ranch are when he sees you. He thinks about you constantly, and he has - on more than one occasion - come home smiling giddily about an interaction he'd had with you only to blush profusely when his brother would tease him.

The problem here, is your father. He’s the owner of the ranch and thus is Jonathan's employer, an under-the-table type of situation, and the man is protective as all hell of you. The last thing he needs to do is breach your father’s trust and risk his job. He thinks maybe he'd also be risking his life.

But the way the sunlight makes your complexion shine, bouncing off your skin radiantly makes his knees buckle. Your smile when you look at him makes his palms sweat. The soft sound of your humming floating towards him makes his heart soar.

You make him forget all of his inhibitions. And it's equal parts exciting and terrifying.

The water trickles from the can’s spout, sparkling in the sunlight as it falls over the beautiful flowers surrounding your porch. You’re careful to give each plant more than enough water, and he watches you intently as if this is some incredibly riveting task.

When you go to refill the can a second time, he realizes that he hasn't moved in far too long. He promptly forces himself to turn on his heel, heading back to let the animals out of their pens to graze. His footsteps feel mechanical, like he has a tinier version of himself controlling his body from a panel inside of his brain.

Don't be a moron, he thinks to himself. Be fucking cool.

He busies himself by cleaning out each of the pens within the barn, sweeping the old ruddy broom along the brown dirt floors, watching as its dry bristles occasionally fall off in its trail. He doesn't even flinch as he shovels waste from each stable, his once squeamish demeanor having been tampered with time and experience. He brings the back of his hand up to wipe the sweat from his forehead, his stringy bangs soaked beneath the wide brim of his hat. He can feel the fabric of his soft cotton shirt already clinging to his back, a sensation that’s entirely too much in this kind of heat.

He turns around, peeking out of the barn doors. There’s no sign of you anymore, and he doesn’t see your father or anyone else either. He supposes it’s alright to take his shirt off, given there’s no one near to offend.

Little does he know, as he reaches an arm around to his back and hoists the fabric up and off, you’re watching shyly from your kitchen window. Peering through the patterned curtains, chewing on your lip. Your fingers absentmindedly twirl a straw around your glass of lemonade, lost in a trance.

Jonathan has more muscle on him than you expected, though you aren’t sure why this is a surprise to you given the hard work he does. You can see the distinct lines on his arms where his tan doesn’t reach, the result of too many days working in the sun with t-shirts on. He stretches, his shoulder blades protruding like wings, and you nearly feel yourself start to drool as his muscles flex and pull. He bends down to retrieve his hat, the unmarked surface of his back on display.

You long to feel his skin beneath your palms, to reach out and touch his back, trace a finger from one freckle to the next until you’ve created a constellation only you can see. You want to leave marks, dig your nails in until you’ve left evidence that you’ve been there.

The longer you stare, watching him as he continues tidying up, the warmer you become. You can feel a searing desire forming between your legs, bare thighs squeezing hard together beneath your tiny dress.

You aren’t sure where your father went, but you know you haven’t seen him around the barn at all this morning. How bad could it be to go out there with Jonathan, really?

The skin of your lip grows raw as your teeth wear at it further, debating your next move or rather, hyping yourself up to make it. Your body buzzes with nerves, clenching your hands into fists before opening your palms once more.

Screw it. Screw it, you're going out there.

Before you can convince yourself to stay inside and hide away from the man, you're pouring another glass of lemonade to take out to him. Slipping on your shoes and swinging open the screen door that spits you out onto your porch. Bees buzz at your sides when you pass the flowering bushes, sun searing your skin the second you're exposed to its harsh rays.

It's sweltering, that's for certain, and coming out here under the guise of bringing Jonathan something to drink is innocent enough.

He doesn't hear you approaching, your footsteps barely making a sound as you trod across the grass. He's hunched over slightly, rinsing dirt from his hands with the garden hose and a bar of soap he keeps in the barn.

“Hey,” is all that comes out of your mouth at first. He spins to face you, visibly startled by your presence. Water runs from the hose that's now soaking the parched grass where it lays, before he hastily shuts off the water supply. “Sorry, I didn't mean to sneak up on you. Just thought you might be thirsty,” you hold the glass out to him, twisting your lips.

“Oh, t-thanks,” he stammers, accepting the offering. The glass is cold in his hand, already sweating from the heat. Droplets of water fall from the bottom of the cup and onto the ground by his boots, unable to cling to the warming surface any longer. His mouth suddenly feels dry, whether from the heat or your proximity he can't decipher, but he suspects it's the latter.

You don't move from your spot in front of him, your pretty eyes nearly sparkling as you watch him take a sip of the drink. You look like you want to pounce on him.

You watch intently as his Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he takes a few greedy swallows, your cheeks hot and feverish at all of the thoughts that swirl through your head.

“Mm,” he hums, pulling the glass rim from his lips. His eyes can't help but rake over your frame, focusing too hard on the way your dress flatters your body. “It's real sweet,” he says, gaze zoning in on your lips. How the soft layer of shiny gloss makes them look enticing, like ripe fruit ready to be picked.

Your teeth sink into the plump skin of your bottom lip, batting your lashes at him. You're toeing a dangerous line, but both of you want nothing more than to cross it.

A small noise dies in his throat, like he was going to speak but can’t bring himself to. He sets his glass down, his hands trembling slightly. You step closer to him, the heat unbearable, but you’re no longer sure if it’s the sun or your own desire warming the atmosphere. You feel two-hundred degrees, and you can guess Jonathan feels the same.

“Do you want to… take a break? You work so hard, and you must be so hot,” you say, saccharine and faux-innocent, your index finger trailing featherlight down his chest. You know what you’re doing, and he knows it, too.

“Birdie...” he warns. “Your dad—”

“Don't worry about my dad. He's not around, no one has to know,” you gaze at him, watching as he rubs a hand down his face. “I won't let anything bad happen, even if he finds out,” you add, taking his hand in yours.

You flip his palm up, running your thumb along the rough skin. He's quiet, but breathing too heavily for someone who's standing still.

God, he might regret this. But he can't bring himself to care quite enough to do anything to stop it. He knows what your next move is before it happens.

And then, in one swift motion you're pressing your lips to his, closing the gap between your bodies. His bare chest pressed to your clothed one, his breath catching in his throat. He feels himself melt into you just as you pull away.

You blink at him, having stepped just slightly backward. Instantly he's wishing you'd come back. Like now that he’s had one taste of you, he can’t fathom going another second without it. Your gaze stays focused on his lips and it makes him feel like jelly, you look like you could devour him and he wants to let you. His eyes search your face rather frantically before he makes a decision.

His hands reach up to cup your face, pulling your lips back to his. He pushes you back easily until you're pressed against the outer wall of the barn, mouthing hungrily at one another beneath the scorching sun. One hand glides up your thigh, rucking up the fabric of your dress as you expose your neck to him, letting him kiss and bite at the tender skin. Tasting the sweat that beads, lapping it away with his tongue like he'd dreamt of doing for weeks.

Then, as if suddenly remembering where he is, he draws back, looking around behind him to ensure no one's there. That typical skittish demeanor creeping back in. One of his hands remains at your hip, his eyes searching yours. His nervousness makes your heart flutter.

“Should we… could we… take this into the barn?” he asks softly, making your lips twist into a small smile.

Wordlessly, you hook two fingers into his belt loops. You walk backwards, pulling him along with you until you’re sheltered inside the building. Instantly, you’re coaxing his face to yours again, pressing your lips to his in an urgent, pleading kiss.

“No one’s gonna catch us,” you murmur against soft lips. “I promise.”

And there’s no way you can be sure of that, he knows it too, but your voice sounds so soothing that he nods in agreement.

He shuts one of the rickety barn doors just to be even safer, leaving the other open for airflow before he lets his lips attach to yours once more. You kiss each other like you’re starving, affection-deprived, and before you know it he's walking you backwards and coaxing you onto the hay bales that rest in the corner. They're stacked in neat, cut rectangles, and you perch your bottom on the top one, letting Jonathan's frame slip between your legs.

The hay is scratchy against the plush backs of your thighs, but it's only a minor annoyance in your current state. A well worth it trade-off for the way Jonathan's hands caress your knees, sliding up your legs until they're pushing up the fabric of your dress. His fingertips are searing against your skin, branding you. Now that you've felt his touch, you can never go back.

Your head spins when he drops to his knees before you, your brain lagging in its attempt to catch up with what's happening. Palms splayed on your thighs, his soft brown eyes gaze up at you, pupils wide with lust. He continues to hike up your dress until it's bunched up at your hips, your pretty cotton panties staring him in the face. An index finger reaches out to flick the tiny pink bow that rests on the waistband, a soft smirk spreading across his kissable mouth.

He leans his face forward, breath fanning out over your clothed core. You flinch, eagerly anticipating his mouth on you. He sticks his tongue out, tentatively allowing it to lick a flat stripe over your panties. Gasping, your hands haphazardly push his hat off of his head, fingers tangling in his damp mop of hair. A strangled whimper clambers from his throat, his lips mouthing at your clothed cunt. The cotton fabric grows more and more moist by the second, his tongue pressing tantalizingly against it, making your back arch.

“Jonny, please—”

His fingers loop beneath the waistband of your underwear at either hip, beginning to tug them down as if to quiet you.

“Shh, angel. Don't have to beg,” he murmurs softly, shifting to bring your legs together momentarily, pulling the small bit of clothing completely off.

Back between your thighs, he eyes your bare pussy hungrily before shifting his gaze up to meet your eyes. “Gonna take such good care of you, like you deserve.”

His mouth presses a soft kiss to your mound, tongue poking out to test the waters; to get its bearings. He licks and sucks experimentally, repeating actions when you moan or whine in favor of one in particular. Perspiration prickles on every inch of your skin, the heat of the growing afternoon coupled with the fiery blaze he's set across your nerve endings making you swelter.

He grows more confident with every second, letting his tongue lick inside of you, collecting the sweetness that pools just for him. He lets out a satisfied grunt, lapping at you ravenously, your fingers pulling roughly on his hair. He seems emboldened by this, spurred on by each tug to his soft locks. Your head tips back, moaning his name at the vaulted ceiling of the barn while he teases your clit with his greedy mouth.

He pauses to take a good look at you, his cheeks beautifully flushed, his body heaving slightly as he catches his breath. The look in his eyes makes it seem like he's trying to commit your every feature to permanent memory.

“Jonathan...” you mewl, letting your hands fall loose from his hair and cradle his face instead.

Your core throbs for him, a deep incessant ache that commands to be quelled. He reads your mind, his desperation matching yours. He rises just enough for his lips to meet yours, letting his tongue slip into your mouth. The sweet tang of your arousal has you moaning into the kiss, your hand reaching down to paw at his crotch through his jeans. You gasp at the bulge that awaits you, his impatient cock pressing against its confines.

He hisses in a pleased sort of agony, the friction so glorious yet not nearly enough. Your fingers work to undo his belt, the clunky metallic buckle falling to the side. He watches you, lips parted, as you unbutton and unzip the dust-covered jeans, pushing them down his thighs. His thin boxers do very little to conceal the shape of his cock, the size catching you off guard. Your delicate palm squeezes it, reveling in the pleased noise that escapes him in response.

“Shit,” you murmur, letting the pad of your thumb roll over the head, precum leaking through the checked fabric.

His body jerks against his will, hips bucking pitifully into your hand. Your hand slips beneath the boxers, mercifully, fingers wrapping around the base of him once his cock is fully free.

You give it a few slow strokes, watching the way his eyes flutter closed. Encouraged, you pump his length faster, the corner of your mouth kicking up when he groans.

“I've - ah - I've wanted this for so long. You have no idea,” he says. “You’re so beautiful. I swear I think about you every day.” His cheeks are rosy, shy with his confession.

“I bet I’ve wanted this just as long as you have,” you reply softly, letting the pad of your thumb swipe over the leaking head of his cock, pearlescent arousal making the motion slick.

He lets out a shuddering breath, his fingers digging hard into your thighs as you tease. You’re entranced by him, your eyes focused in on the deep blush pink of his erection. You can feel saliva collecting in your mouth, your nerve endings vibrating with a desire to taste him.

“Why don’t we switch spots? Come sit here, so I can take care of you,” you murmur, batting your lashes up at him as your fingers gently squeeze his shaft.

His eyelids flutter, the warm brown of his irises rolling back at the touch and at your words. He rises on shaky legs and you follow suit, guiding him to sit on the stacked bales. The perfect makeshift throne for him to sit upon, the perfect spot for you to kneel before him and worship him the way you so badly need to. Your knees touch the dusty ground, the rough barn floor uncomfortable against them. You pay it little mind, however, simply itching to get your lips on the prize that lay before you.

Jonathan looks down at you with his lip tugged slightly between his teeth. His hand brushes hair out of your face, cupping your head gently as you gaze starry-eyed up at him.

His cock twitches as if in a plea, and it draws you to him. You grip the base in one hand, sticking your tongue out flat to collect the pearly white beads of precum that drip from the slit. You make direct eye contact as you lick at him, his body jolting with pleasure at the first touch of your tongue to his most sensitive part. His hands grip at the earthy yellow straw beneath him before finding their way to your hair, conscious of keeping it out of your face.

“Oh, fuck,” he exhales, your soft lips wrapping around him, engulfing him in the warm, wet cavern of your mouth.

You hum, pleased, before beginning to bob your head. Your tongue glides along his shaft, coating him in your saliva. You take him as deep as you can, until there's a pressure at the back of your throat and your eyes water in warning. He groans in spite of himself when you gag, catching himself instantly to ask if you're okay.

You nod wordlessly, cheeks flushing at his sweetness. You want to pull more noises from him, and you continue to take him into your throat so that you gag again. His head is thrown back, cock twitching in your mouth. Your saliva drips down it, pooling at the corners of your mouth and dribbling down your chin. He notices this, wiping at the wetness on your chin with his thumb.

“God damn, Birdie. M-making such a mess,” he stammers, looking down at you with those glorious lust-blown eyes.

You hum around him once more, hollowing your cheeks and sucking. He whines at this, the tendons in his neck straining, putting all of his effort into not spilling down your throat.

“Please,” he pants. “Please let me be inside you.”

Pulling off of his cock, a string of spit connects your bottom lip to his red tip for only a moment before you swipe it away. He's bending down in an instant, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. He grips your face with both hands, a strained noise clawing at his throat when your tongues dance around one another.

He pulls back after a moment, but he does so in a way that makes it seem like it physically pains him to do it. His hands paw at your waist, encouraging you up. You stand, moving between his spread knees. Climbing atop his lap, you can feel yourself throb with anticipation, your body begging to have him fill it.

His rosy cheeks, flushed from both heat and exertion, dimple slightly when he smiles at you. His eyes are flecked with gold from the sunlight that trickles through the slits in the walls, looking at you like you're the most ethereal being he's ever laid eyes on.

His hands hold your hips, bunching up your dress so it pools at the juncture between hip and thigh. You grind yourself on him, your wet heat teasing his cock.

“Oh fuck, you're so perfect,” he murmurs, lips pressed to your hair, his face burying itself at the side of your neck.

A tiny content moan escapes you, your skin ablaze where his lips press to your neck.

“Please, Jonathan,” you whine, rolling your hips again.

“Didn't I say you don't have to beg, sweet girl? I'm right here, do what you want with me,” he says, and this time he's the one who sounds like he might be begging.

Do what you want with me.

Your breaths come out heavy as you raise up just enough to line him up with your entrance, beads of precum dripping down his cock and making your palm slick. He twitches at the contact, his blunt nails digging in to the meat of your ass.

A long, low grumble of a moan slowly leaves his lips the second you guide his tip past your entrance. Your lips part, head thrown back as he slowly pushes deeper inside. The stretch is euphoric, your walls expanding to accommodate him with little resistance.

“Oh, fuck—” Jonathan hisses, tilting his chin to kiss at your jawline.

Outside, you hear the hens clucking contentedly, mourning doves cooing softly from trees. For a fleeting moment you remember the possibility of getting caught, hoping you maintain your privacy at least long enough to finish what you’ve started here.

Your skin is sticky where it touches his, sweat collecting in every crease and crevice. He’s bigger than you had anticipated, and just when you think he can’t possibly have more to give you, he’s pushing in the rest of the way. He grips you tightly as he bottoms out, pressed to the hilt inside of you. You both moan in unison, your hands holding loosely to his shoulders.

He’s still for a moment, eyes pinched shut as his chest heaves with his panting.

“Just— just need a second. Sorry, you feel so fucking good,” he says, willing himself not to finish right here right now. “God dammit, you’re squeezin’ me so tight.”

“Take your time,” you purr softly, simply enjoying the feeling of being so full. You let your hands travel to his neck, thumbs tracing down the column of his throat before reaching his chest. Perspiration beads on his soft skin, pink flush reaching down his neck to his chest.

Slowly, he starts to encourage the movement of your hips. Gripping them firmly, he aids you in finding a good rhythm. You let yourself rock lightly on top of him, his strong arms helping you along and making your head spin. The soft head of his cock presses so deeply inside of you you practically start drooling, unable to stop yourself from bouncing faster.

He doesn’t discourage your increasing pace; instead his head falls back in ecstasy, curses tumbling from his kiss-bitten lips. The quicker you move the tighter his hands seem to grip your hips, fingers digging into the plush skin, sure to leave a sore spot.

You’re drenching him, easing the movements with your arousal, and each slick glide feels better than you could’ve imagined.

“Jonathan, oh my god—” you cry, hands pawing desperately at his bare chest. Your nails drag marks down the soft skin, and he groans in response.

Your body grows fatigued, thighs burning, and he notices the steady slowing of your bouncing. He takes over with ease, wrapping his arms around you and rising to a standing position. You gasp at the different angle, his cock seemingly pressing deeper still, and then you feel your back hit the wall.

He cages you in tight against the wooden slabs, your legs wrapped firmly around his thin waist. Your stomach flips in a new wave of excitement, taking him at this brand new angle. You surrender any control you had, letting him take the reins. He so desperately needs to, to get out all of that pent up frustration from day after day of watching you from afar. Wondering what you’d feel like, sound like, taste like.

Now that he has you like this, pliant and eager, he wants to give every ounce of himself to you.

He doesn’t start slow, doesn’t need to ease into it in this new position like he did at first. His thrusts come hard and fast, sending you reeling. You watch the way the tendons in his neck flex and pull, straining with exertion. He grunts with his effort, little noises escaping in time with each thrust.

He leans in to bite at the lobe of your ear, his face twisting in a sort of growl; a snarl. He’s primal in the way he fills you, claiming you as his in a surge of power he doesn’t typically possess. It’s like a switch has flipped, his shyness and hesitation disappearing. You wonder where this side of him has been hiding, and you can only hope you’ll get to experience it again.

“You feel,” he grunts, gritting his teeth for a fleeting moment as he delivers a particularly harsh thrust. “So fucking good.”

All you can do is moan in response, a high-pitched little sound that spurs him on further. Your nails sink into his back, clawing down the surface, sure to leave marks in their wake. He bites at your bottom lip, tugging on it until you whine.

The sounds your bodies make together are obscene, slippery wet squelching coupled with the slap of skin on skin. If anyone were to walk by, there’d be no doubt about what’s going on.

Every single thrust has you crying out for him, the way he hits that perfect spot inside of you each time making you tremble in his grasp. The pleasure is white-hot, lapping at every inch of your body. You can feel yourself inching closer and closer to your release, and you’re so desperate to have it.

“Jon, ‘m so close,” you whine, barely clinging on to him while he fucks you senseless.

“Ah fuck, yeah? Y’gonna cum for me?” he asks, near breathless as he continues to pound into you. He looks so fucked out and perfect; bangs stuck to his forehead and his eyes heavy-lidded in bliss, watching you carefully.

And the way he asks the question, it sounds like he’s dying for you to finish. Like he’s begging you to clench around his length, squeeze him so tight, drench him with your arousal. Like he can’t possibly believe you’re about to cum for him.

But you are, and with a few more quick and sloppy thrusts of his hips you’re crying out his name; screaming so loud you can hear the birds in the tree outside flutter away in a frenzy.

“Fuck, oh god, oh god,” Jonathan pants, and you’re certain he’s about to lose it as your walls tighten around him in a rhythmic pulsation. “Where can I cum? Where do you want it?”

“Inside, has to be inside,” you whine. “Please.”

You barely get the final word out before you can feel him hurtling to an abrupt halt, hips stilling as he twitches inside of your warm wet cunt. He paints your insides, giving you every possible drop that he has.

“Shit, Birdie,” he says, nearly gasping for air. “You’re unreal. You know that? You’re absolutely incredible.”

You stay panting like that for a while, joined together, your sticky skin against his. He noses at your cheek, pressing soft kisses to it as you try to regain a normal breathing pattern.

He pulls out slowly then, a slippery mess formed where your bodies met. Your legs fall from around his waist, standing up on wobbly limbs that barely contain the strength to support you. His hands reach up to cradle your cheeks, his eyes wild with delight as they search your face.

Your heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled, fluttering rapidly with the way he’s looking at you. Before you can say anything he’s smashing his lips against yours, a slow and passionate kiss that rivals all the others that came before.

It lasts for a while, but you don’t feel like it’s been nearly long enough when he pulls away.

“I don’t want this to be over. I don’t want to act like this never happened,” he says, an almost frantic look in his eyes.

“Jonathan—”

“I want you. And I don’t care what your dad thinks. I want to take you on nice dates, and watch the birds with you, and kiss you like this every single day.”

You feel like your heart may explode, like it’s swelling larger and larger with each of his words.

“I want that, too. We’ll figure this out, okay? I swear,” you reassure him, kissing him again. Pouring all of your affection into him and hoping he feels it.

“Promise me.”

“I promise you. I couldn’t stay away if I wanted to,” you say, smiling lightly. He laughs, pressing his forehead to yours, slick with sweat.

You know it’s time to let him get back to work, but you’re reluctant to end the moment.

“I should really get back to it,” he says bashfully, as if reading your mind and feeling sorry he had to.

“Yeah, you should,” you agree, kissing the backs of both of his hands before letting him pull away.

He redresses while you watch in silent awe, studying the way his body moves. He catches you staring, his cheeks reddening adorably.

Both of you step out of the barn, back into the unforgiving sunlight. You’re about to head inside when you stop yourself, turning on your heel.

“I know you usually go home around four. Could you be back and freshened up around five-thirty?” you ask him.

“Uh, sure. Why?”

“Because, we have a date to go on.”

“Are you sure you—”

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life,” you say earnestly, and the grin that breaks out on his face is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. You don’t know what exactly you’re going to say to your dad, but you’ll figure it out.

“Okay. Five-thirty. See you then, Birdie.”

With a little wave, you’re heading back inside. He doesn’t miss the slight wobble in your legs, or the trail of his release that runs down your thigh. And when he hears your dad’s car pull up the drive, he gives him a smug little wave.

What a way to start the day.

#jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers x fem!reader #jonathan byers smut #jonathan byers fanfic #jonathan byers fanfiction #farmhand!jonathan byers #divider by cafekitsune

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