#in general i listened to that show so long ago that there are things I do not remember
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the-shadesys ¡ 2 days ago
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Thanks for the tag! :D
This is probably gonna be kinda long and rambly, since I love to talk (about myself/my interests) and I cannot keep things short, ever.
1. Three ships I like:
I don't really do shipping, to be honest. I'm more interested in found family (headcanons) and shipping characters in a queerplatonic way. Most if not all ships that I like I'd like just as much if not more if they were (queer)platonic. But I guess I ship Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright (Ace Attorney), although I'm again more interested in other kinds of relationships. There's also Aventurine and Dr. Ratio (Honkai Star Rail). And I guess Kaveh and Alhaitham (Genshin Impact). I think certain ships can be interesting to explore and think about but I rarely seek out fanart and fanfics for ships.
2. First ship ever:
Zutara (Zuko and Katara from Avatar: The Last Airbender). Nowadays I'm pretty neutral towards it. I don't dislike it but I now headcanon Zuko as aroace (I am kinda projecting on him there, I admit) and am generally more interested in seeing and reading stuff that's centered around other kinds of relationships.
3. Last song you listened to:
Should be Ocean Planet by Ornithology and Barnes Blvd. It's lofi and we usually listen to it when we're stressed, need to concentrate or no other music is right at the moment (& causes sensory overload). We pretty much always listen to it on loop and I think it was our most-listened-to song in our Spotify Wrapped for last year. I like the way it sounds like ice cubes in a glass of water, clinking together. It's very calming and I like how it doesn't feel too warm (some songs do that for me, might be some form of synesthesia) and doesn't have a lot going on.
4. Fav childhood book:
Lord of the Rings, hands down. It was what really got us into (high) fantasy and reading. We've read it a bunch of times since when we read it in third grade for the first time. We've watched the movies too, of course, and liked them a lot.
5. Currently reading:
Nothing, really. There's a bunch of books we started reading but I don't know which one we read last at this point. Maybe one of our books about linguistics & conlanging? I do wanna get back to reading but there's so many things going on and so much stuff we wanna do that I don't really know when (and also which of our books to read).
6. Currently watching:
I did watch a few episodes of the Loki show (Marvel/MCU) a few weeks ago but haven't been watching anything more recently. I like the show but already know what happens in it and have seen a bunch of clips from it. I was also distracted by a lot of other stuff.
7. Currently craving:
I don't really know right now. Maybe chips though? Something salty and more like a snack, since I already had dinner a while ago.
8. Currently consuming:
Nothing. Gonna drink some water in a bit though, and then I'll go to sleep.
9. Pets:
We have a dog! My mom and I also do voluntary work where we take care of a bunch of animals every week, so they kinda feel like my pets in a way, too. There's donkeys, chickens, a pony, a flock of sheep that like to be petted and cuddle, and two cats (one of which always comes up to be pet by me and he's very cute!) <3
I'm not gonna tag anyone because that kinda stuff makes me anxious and I also don't really know who to tag.
This was fun though!
Get to know the blogger
Thanks for the tag @faggylittleleatherboy
1. Three ships I like: jegulus (marauders), anderperry (dead poets society), narlie (heartstopper)
2. First ship ever: idk, probably Rapunzel and Flynn Rider
3. Last song you listened to: Kill For You - Gigi Perez
4. Fav childhood book: The Magic Faraway Tree - Enid Blyton
5. Currently reading: The King's Men - Nora Sakavic
6. Currently watching: Greys Anatomy
7. Currently craving: Dominoes pizza
8. Currently consuming: just had some water
9. Pets: I'm not allowed pets where I live, but I have a cat back home
npt @zsrntyouil @mairon-goth-minion @mushroom-enby @wishiwereheather13 @overthemoons7 @equippedtolove @andytheoverthinker @woefulstar @cbartonscoffee + anyone else
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euon111a ¡ 3 days ago
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— B L O O D L U S T
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summary: sleep with one eye open, don’t walk alone late at night, don’t trust strange men who show up at your gramma’s door. and definitely don’t move to Mississippi.
warnings: sacrificial pact/curse bond oath, themes of violence, self bloodletting, death, vampirism, supernatural elements, voodoo/occult themes, biting, minor choking/breath play, spitting, blood play.
w/c: < 11k
notes: okay, so ik everybody says this, but yes this is my first time writing, so it’s probably not gonna be perfect. yes, I’m hopping on the sinners train, I’m just original like that. there’s absolutely no use of y/n, this is entirely second pov and specifically afab reader. this also isn’t proofread, and like kinda fast and long so my bad. also, this was supposed to be out like last week, but i got kinda scared of publishing, and kinda hate how this came out, sooo yeah. i don’t have high expectations for this, chances are there might be a part two, but hopefully those who read enjoyed.
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You weren’t stupid. You knew real quick what your family was.
There wasn’t a talk, or a conversation ‘bout it, but the older you got, the more clear it became. You knew when you overheard your neighbor talking to his wife ‘bout how your family ‘walks with shadows’, and how the other females of your blood ain’t ever been right in the head. It was there in the way folks steered clear of your doorstep, looked at each other like there was a secret there that only they knew of. You weren’t embarrassed of your family, never had been even when you put two and two together, you knew what you was, and you took pride in it. Safety was a rare thing to come by, and in desperate times, some people just had to do desperate things to keep the ones they loved safe.
That’s just how life was.
Blood was thicker than water, put above all else, and that’s how it’s been for generations. Blood kept you safe, kept you alive, and you didn’t know it at first, but you understand it now. It makes sense. Plus, everybody knew what New Orleans was like, the connection certain people had, the stories, the rituals, the pure energy. Who’s to blame a young couple hundred of years ago to do what they could to keep their children, their grandchildren, and their great grandchildren safe from everything wrong in the world? They did what was needed, and there’s no shame in using your resources wisely.
But everybody’s human, and people make mistakes, so when your older brother came to terms with things and realized his part of the pact was coming up, he got scared, tried to back out. He ran off, tried to get some sort of help and then he just— disappeared. Ain’t nobody know if he died, if he just ran away and got somewhere where the shadows wouldn’t interfere, or if his part of the oath was completed, but nobody’s seen him again. Talk went around about his disappearance, people claiming to hear his voice at night, hearing his screams, the earth listening to them, and then just emptiness as the sun came up. But that was all just rumors. Things grew as quickly as it started, people bringing up the jars your daddy had lined up by the porch, the roots under the porch chairs, the herbs on the windowsill. Then it was bringing up how your family never went to church, always had everything set up for y’all’s benefit, how your momma had slipped up one night and mumbled the same prayer she’d set over you to your father in public. The rumors stopped after a week, just magically went swept under the rug like a dust bunny, but everybody remembered, kept their distance and called out Bible verses to you whenever you stepped into a shop.
Your parents had their stuff packed by the next week, they’d always been waiting for a fuckup, told you to keep on your toes, but after a heavy lightning storm had lit a neighbor’s house on fire, people started suspecting your family. Before you knew it, you was dragged up to Mississippi to your gramma’s for safety and a fresh start. Your parents hadn’t bothered telling you what state they was holed up in, told your gramma to keep it strictly secret and to get you prepared for your “time”. They told you as soon as you was old enough to fully understand, not that ripe age before you finally develop a conscience but the moment before. Told you what was comin’, what had already happened for your momma, for her momma, and for every person born from the same blood before them.
It had to happen, can’t go around tryna change fate no matter how scary it seemed for your feeble mind when they first told you. It’d hurt, it’d be a hard transition, but it ain’t about the pain. It’s about the renewal, the safety. It’s about making sure you stayed whole, had a place among the shadows. So you embraced for the inevitable, learned to live with it.
Now that was five years ago, you’re a grown woman now. Your gramma was smarter at keeping things secret, had a little bouquet of herbs nailed to the front door and a sloppy baron veve etched into the porch wood where the door mat lay. Plus, life was a lil more secretive in the countryside, nobody really went around lurking for things they shouldn’t. Things was simple for a while, you helped her where she needed it, tended to her little shop in town, and she’d mutter that same prayer your momma did before you went to bed every night.
But when you got your menarche, or what your gramma called, “the final binding”, that faux simple life had changed. She shared her deepest secrets and knowledge with you, bathed you in the river, blessed you with her own gris-gris bag, and cut off a small portion of your hair just to set on fire. That night as soon as the stars started littering the sky, she slit open your palm with the same shard of glass she used on your momma, and letting the blood pour down onto the ogou feray she dug in the dirt behind the house. It was as if things shifted right as the blood hit the dirt. The air settled, the flickering of the flames in the fireplace stilled, as if the entire earth around you took a moment to rest, to soak in the warmth of the blood. Your gramma warned you of dreams that night, to not be scared and to be open, to let it happen, to listen to what they were telling you. She told you over and over to not speak, to let the spirits and the shadows do all the talking, that’s all you needed.
There was this change, this tension deep in your gut as if a heavy weight settled in you, like a hug from someone who wasn’t there, but who squeezed on tight to make sure their presence was known. The first man in your dreams hadn’t said anything, not at first. He just watched you, studied you, gazing at you as you struggled to wrap your mind on just how real the dream felt. His eyes bored into your soul as if he was peeling back every aspect of who you were and soaking up the information he learned. He told you to keep an eye out for the night man, but hadn’t told you anything else even when you tried to ask, just cut you off to say that you’d know when you’d see him, that you’d tell yourself before your mind knew, and then you woke up.
Every night’s been the same since your cross into womanhood, your sleep was the only interesting part of your day. When your eyes were closed, you’d be reunited with family members you didn’t know of, talk to people from the past and those who just encountered the cold touch of death. You’d see life as it was beyond dreams, the physical pull of something holding you back from going too far. You dreamt of visions of warnings with symbols of men on fire and rivers of blood, the weight of more than one person lingering in your dreams but only one ever being seen. It hadn’t stopped, kept growing, kept getting more real, more fulfilling, drawing you closer and closer to that magnetized energy that chased after you, but kept hidden behind shadows until it was time.
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The heat was particularly heavy today, thick as ever, clinging to you like a second layer. Stuck to you the same way a quilt wraps ‘round you in the middle of the night. Ain’t no wind in the air this time, just the same scorching heat, pressing down like the same warmth of a brand against cattle. The nights had gotten restless, air so damp it’d slip through the cracks of the windows and have you waking up drenched in sweat. Just an endless stream of heat that don’t quit, even when the moon’s settled high up in the dark sky.
Not a lick of shade out in the countryside, nowhere to rest against to hide from the sun, just the same old open land and the same old humidity pressing on your chest. No trees in wrap around and cling to, no wild grass to linger on, just pure sun to skin. 24/7. The fields stretched out in endless rows, plants swaying like dying ashes in the breeze, and that wasn’t even the worst of it. That tiring damp in the summer air that stuck to your every pore thickened the further you went into town. The air was heavier there, clinging to you like a different weight, sticky everywhere you went, like the streets themselves was grabbing hold to you. But ain’t no peace anywhere in the summer, just the constant blend of day to night, the burn of the sun and the heat against your back.
Dust had clung to your shoes, your clothes, your hair, your lungs with every turn of the car had another puff of gravel thickening up the air. Moments like these you were particularly missing home, the weather down in New Orleans never reached as dry as it was in Mississippi. Normally, Mother Nature was less cruel back there, there’d be a week of hotness, but then the weekend would be blessed enough to have a long cloud of rain at night. Today though, it was extra sticky, and Gramma had been mighty adamant on going to town, so you brought it upon yourself to keep her company, despite her complaints against it. The shop smelled of old wood and herbs, the kind of scent that clung to the shelves no matter how often they were dusted. You traced your fingers along the countertop, the grain rough against your skin, listening to the way that momentary silence settled around you. It wasn’t an eerie quiet—just the kind that came when the world outside had dimmed, when the street beyond the window had almost emptied, when the only things left awake was the crickets and the slow hum of the overhead lamp.
“You stay home tonight.” Gramma’s voice was steady and sharp, carrying that same tone that told you that there really wasn’t no room to try to argue against her. She had you perched by the counter like some restless child who didn’t know when to quit, like you wasn’t grown enough to be on your own without her breathing down your back. Your eyes flicked away from the window, quick and ready to ask question after question as to why, but she was already turning away. Already shifting toward the older woman at the shelves, the one running her fingers along misplaced coffee tins like she had nothing else on her mind but finding the right one.
You scoffed—not loud, not reckless enough to be heard neither, just enough to let it sit on your tongue for a second before you straightened up. You settled back in as soon as she returned to the counter. “Gramma, it’s the weekend.”
The words carried, just enough weight to sound like they actually mattered, but she barely blinked, didn’t even react. Didn’t flinch, or pause, or give even the smallest sign that she was reconsidering.
Instead, she dragged that coffee tin against the countertop, tapping her fingers against the lid like the conversation wasn’t worth stopping her movements. “And?” That’s it. It was flat, unbothered, almost bored, and if you wasn’t related to her, you’d genuinely take offense to her tone. Like the weekends had never meant anything to her. Like you wasn’t looking for any excuse to get out the house tonight.
“Weekend don’t mean not waiting.” Your brows furrowed slightly, trying to untangle her words so they made sense. You didn’t even really understand what she meant, and right now wasn’t really time to go ‘round tryna decipher her words. So, you just let her talk, let the weight of the words you didn’t really understand sink in. Eventually you’d actually make sense of her ramblings, but right now wasn’t one of those times.
“Alright, prophet, you got any clearer messages, or am I supposed to just go ‘long with you?” It meant to be a joke, just enough of a tone in your voice so she would’ve known you wasn’t taking her too seriously, but from the look on her face it rubbed her the wrong way. It flattened that sad attempt to humor her and shut you up real quick.
She shifted the tin aside, settled it among the others, before pointing a finger at you like you cursed her head off. “Ain’t my job to spell it out for you.” She didn’t raise her voice or scowl, just went back to cleaning up the counter with a dusty piece of cloth. And that was it. That was all she said. No explanation or soft edges to her words to make you think she was messing with you.
No room for another shit joke.
And no space for argument.
Just her certainty and knowledge that she wouldn’t share with you pressing down like the kind of knowledge that don’t come from guessing, just from years of watching the same thing unfold again and again.
The weekend clearly didn’t matter.
Not to her, so it wouldn’t to you.
And then it was quiet again. Not just cause she was mad or the fact that you was a little scared, but because there was that unease in your gut. The kind you get after waking up from a nightmare. The little jingles of the bells by the door, the slight sniffs customers made when scanning different candles and herbs was the only thing that distracted you. That and the muffled sounds of lively conversation outside. Your gramma must’ve snuck up behind you while you did your best to try to eavesdrop on the conversations that went by ‘cause next thing you know, she’s giving you a quick swat to the back of your head. You jolted in surprise, quickly turning around to face her instead of being nosy as you rubbed the back of your head, fixing her with an annoyed look.
“Junebug, go’n get some more tins— and none of those dented ones again.” You sucked in a slow sigh at your gramma’s order, sharply turning your head to watch her as she busied herself with helping a customer. You hopped off the stool, letting the wood creak under the shift of weight. Your eyes followed her as she slipped behind the counter, fingers tapping against the wall like she wasn’t waiting on you.
“Yes, ma’am.” Words carried out of habit more than anything else, rolling off your tongue without thought. And then you moved, purposefully slow. Like the steps to the back of the shop were new, unfamiliar, weren’t anything other than the same thing you’d done a hundred times before.
Like it wasn’t routine or repetition, just so you could experience something new.
Because Gramma asked.
Because the night hadn’t changed anything yet.
Because you did the same things you’d always done— even when she allegedly knew something was coming to break the cycle soon enough.
Stuck doing the same bullshit routine, everyday, every week.
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You had all night to think now. Time to sit and stew in her words. Which wasn’t always a good thing, because the possibilities was practically eating you up. Thinking meant letting every idea come to fruition— the weight of expectation, the uncertainty, the fact there was no turning back. You couldn’t, even if you wanted to. Couldn’t afford screwing everything up. Your gramma had left after supper to close up the shop, said she’d come back before to play audience in case tonight was the night. But the echoes of her words still sat heavy in the your heart, pressing against your mind like a reminder.
You’d already cleaned the house two times over, not from the what-if’s or the possibilities, but just out of habit. It was always like this whenever she rambled unexpectedly. Bringing yourself to clean every nook and cranny of the house. To keep yourself from going crazy in anticipation. You hadn’t really meant to, but your body would move before your mind caught up—back and forth, tracing the same stretch of floor like movement might keep you steady. But your hands always needed something to do. Not because it’ll matter, but because control is control, and if you can make sure everything is in place, at least something will feel certain. Something other than wringing themselves over what might happen. Preparing for the unknown ain’t just about routine— it’s about settling the nerves, about making peace with the unknown, about bracing for something that doesn’t come with clear instructions because your gramma wanted to use it as a teaching moment.
Your breath came slow, fingers curling against the countertop, repeating Gramma’s words under your breath to remind yourself that this is just another step, just something possibly meaning to happen. And then you sat, forced yourself to just wait, like stillness and movement kept fighting for the reins of control. Forced yourself to take a breath and relieve the weight in your chest.
You weren’t sure why you were panicking, ain’t like she admitted that tonight was the night, but something in your gut shifted. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at the clock— but you noticed the stretches. You could practically feel everything, the way time dragged on, the wind outside, the cool of the night seeping through the window you was standing too close to, just so you could see before you were seen.
Gramma never said it’d come gently, never said it’d be announced— just that it was coming. That’s the way it was with her when she was your age, so you just needed to be ready. You couldn’t let yourself freeze, no matter how heavy the air gets, no matter how much your pulse shifted, you had to force yourself to move, to breathe, to listen. Had to check yourself, to make sure you were there, awake, whole.
After an hour, you made peace with not knowing who will come, how it will start, or what will happen next. You told yourself you were prepared, even if that doesn’t quite feel true. You weren’t scared, or unsteady, or doubtful, just ready for the test. The moment everything would change. You took another breath, long and deep, because what else was there to do?
Just sit.
Just wait.
Just make peace with the inevitable.
Nothing felt different.
Nothing looked different.
But that didn’t mean the weight of it wasn’t pressing down on you. So you waited more, and more. Sat with it for a while. Let it settle. But then two hours came, gramma wasn’t back, and the night man wasn’t here, so you took the liberty to finally make do to your room.
The sun’s set, darkness has come up, the sky black, empty and cloudless. No stars, no moon, just a long stretch of black on an endless canvas. The air’s thick, heavy, weighing down every movement of nature and every breath of the land. The trees connect through their limbs, tangling up into one big blob of wood and leaf. They speak to you, sway with every inhale the ground takes, deep and low. They sob, they weep, they ache, they groan. The wind stops, and for a moment, there’s stillness, no crying, no breathing, just emptiness.
The ground shifts, it moans, hollow and ragged as if life itself is pained just from its own existence. And then the earth inhales, and you’re back home. Everything’s the same, the dining table, the old painting on the wall, the faint crackling from the fireplace, but something’s not right. You can’t move, you can’t breathe, you’re not there. Not really. You’re rooted to the floor beneath you, stuck in time, prisoner to the land as it shackles you through your bones.
And then, a light. Freedom.
You can’t see it, but you can feel it, in your core, running through your veins. It’s hot, warm, a brand burning you beneath your skin, keeping you there. The red glows, vibrant and thick, and then just there, in you. He whispers your name, right there, in your ear, in your head, in you. The heat grows, it’s intense and pulls you down, magnetizing you to his voice. You try to move, try to blink, try to breathe, but you can’t. You try to listen to him, but he’s not talking anymore, you know he’s there, can feel the weight of his gaze even as you can’t see him.
Then— just, nothing.
No darkness, no silence, no weeping.
Just, emptiness.
You wake up to the same emptiness, that gnawing hollowness, that gut feeling of something being terribly wrong when nothing’s gone wrong yet. The house itself was still, like even it knew something was just off. The air was too thick, too quiet, too unmoving. The shutters of the window slapped softly against the glass, a soft ray of moonlight pushing through the wood and onto the raggedy rug by the foot of the bed before bleeding slow into the dark corners. Everything’s the same, everything’s okay, but something wasn’t quite there.
Maybe it was the dream, the heaviness of its weight still settled deep against your ribs. Maybe it was the whispers still lingering in your mind, unintelligible, unknown, but latched onto your chest like a sickness with no name. That silence that stretched too long and too thin finally interrupted. The familiar sound of the front door opening in the distance, shutting with a screechy creak and it was only then when you heard the faint sound of gravel crunching beneath wheels, that you sat up.
The air in the room sat too still, thick with the kinda silence that came when something was taken away from a child and they’re getting ready to unleash all hell. You slowly rose up from the bed, the floorboards silent under your feet. The hallway was too dark and way too empty.
The chair by the hearth was empty, rocking ever so slightly, like it had only just been left by someone. The shadows along the corner of the room shifted, melting into each other before disappearing out the window and into the night again.
Then— three knocks.
Soft, slow, deliberate, like the owner of the hand knew patience, knew you’d answer. For a moment, you wasn’t sure if you imagined it— too caught up in your own mind and the tricks that was surely being played on you. But the air shifted. Like the entire world had stilled and listened, waiting for you to respond.
Then it came again. Three knocks, heavier this time, sharp enough to carve through the prolonged silence.
Through the thin curtain, you could just make out three figures, standing still on the doorstep, waiting— like they’d been expected all along. The moment stretched even further, threatening to snap out like a band. But then you heard it. Finally noticed it.
The silence.
Not just the absence of sound, but something heavier, stretching into your ribs until all you could hear was your own breath, your own pulse beating against your ears. But you were stuck, rooted by the fireplace, caught between the weight in your chest and the whisper in your mind telling you to stay put— to just forget, to sleep, to leave the door alone. But that lump in your throat disappeared, and without thinking, without meaning to, your body moved on its own. Standing by the door, slowly turning your head to the side, you pressed your ear against the cold wood. You weren’t sure what you were looking for, maybe the sound of the wind, the creak of the porch floor, the rustle of fabric against fabric, but there was nothing.
Just a stretch of air.
“Junebug,” the nickname snapped you out of whatever trance you were in, the sound cutting clean through the walls. Your fingers curled around the door knob, not turning, just there, like the weight of your own grip was the only thing keeping you from moving and taking a step back. The voice that called out wasn’t your gramma’s. It had a feeling to it— low, smooth, drawn out just enough to make room for silence, to let it settle in the empty spaces between the syllables. There was another pause. Not long, but long enough— the kind of pause meant to remind you that this wasn’t a dream or a trick of your own mind. “I know you’re awake.”
There wasn’t any rise in his tone, no accusation or teasing in his words. Just fact. Like he knew you were alone, like he knew it had already been decided that you’d be alone, right now, tonight.
You stepped away from the door, staring at it like it would’ve forced the damn thing to tell you what exactly was behind the door. Like if you looked long enough you’d see straight through the wood, past the silence and whatever waited on the other side. There was something different, the living room felt wrong, the walls were off, it was too— raw. Like they was listening to you, like the air itself was watching you, getting ready to judge you for every wrong move you made. You took a slow look around, scanning the room like it was your first time actually seeing it.
You weren’t sure what you were looking for this time. A sign that you weren’t going crazy, or that this was the thing your gramma tried to warn you about. Maybe you were looking for a clue, a strange flicker from one of the wax candles, the same whisper in your head, or some kind of confirmation that this was happening now. They should’ve spoken by now, the shadows should’ve told you what to do, what not to do, but they didn’t. Just kept still and quiet.
It was the test, had to be. You knew it, had to know it. Gramma wasn’t there, wasn’t able to help you no matter how much you needed it right now. She wouldn’t come back to help you, wouldn’t come back to guide you, to remind you what needed doing. And the longer you brewed in your own thoughts, the more you came to realization of what had to happen. You couldn’t be scared, couldn’t run off like your brother did, this was the inevitable.
And then, something inside you just clicked.
You hummed low and certain, not a strangled gasp or a means to fight the truth, but of understanding. Before you even meant to, before your mind even had the ability to second guess, your fingers tightened around the doorknob and twisted. The door creaked open, just enough for the night air to seep into the warmth of the house.
You didn’t know the people in front of you. If you were foolish, and didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought they was some lost folks, some wandering souls who knocked on the wrong door. But you were smart, and you did know better. Hell, you knew what they were before they even introduced themselves. Your gaze peeled off the three shadows in front of you to scan the porch, to the familiar stretch of land in front of you.
She really was gone, her car wasn’t in the driveway, that faint cinnamon smell that lingered on her wasn’t close enough to be smelled. This really was happening. The very thing she’d been getting you ready for this whole time. And that weight, the one that was sat in your bones for as long as you could remember, the one that pressed down to keep you tethered to reality, kept you waiting for what was to come— wasn’t there anymore.
The wind spoke it. The glow in their eyes confirmed it. The energy sealed it. Those whispers and dreams finally came to be.
He was actually here.
“Well now,” a pause, and then a long, slow exhale, like he was deciding whether to speak at all. He tilts his head, just a fraction, not from curiosity or amusement, but just to watch. His gaze slowly drags along you and the space you’ve wedged yourself into, forcing yourself to block that small gap between the door and the doorframe. “Ain’t exactly the way to treat company, now is it?” The tone in his voice was what set you unnerved, like he had all the patience in the world, like he knew you’d eventually open the door, but the look on his face told something different. You saw it, it was quick but deliberate enough for you to see the glow in his eyes, the weight to them. He didn’t say anything after, let the silence drag on as he watched you, not rushing or giving you a look that demanded you to answer.
“You gon’ kill me?” Quick to the point. The one to the left of him let out a little sigh, maybe it was amusement, maybe it carried something deeper that you just couldn’t catch. The kind of sigh someone releases from the same question being asked over and over again. The night man barely looked over to her, had barely attempted to reassure you, to actually acknowledge it. Just glanced back at you, a quick flicker before turning back to the open door. Then with a measured breath, a subtle shift forward before finally speaking, his voice low and deliberate.
“That what you think this is?” No frustration. No sharpness. Just a question without a question mark, something that didn’t need an answer but demanded one anyway. The silence pressed on again, like everything around you wanted you to answer first. You weren’t sure now, not with the way his lips twitched up, not a full smile, just the suggestion of one. You waited again. Waited for something else, a whisper to guide you, for the wind to say what needed saying.
But nothing came. Just more silence and waiting. And the man was watching, watching like he already knew what would happen, already saw how this would play out and how it’d end.
“Aren’t you?” He let your question settle— didn’t push you to say anything else, just let the air stretch as his eyes shifted towards the people on either side of him. Then, a slow shift. Not much, just the slightest lean back, just enough to make it feel like he was really listening to you, like he was actually considering the words before deciding whether they’d mean anything at all. And then, the same flicker of a smile, like he was testing how long you’d hold out before deeming the silence to be too heavy to carry.
His eyes followed your every move. Even when you glanced back into the safety of the house, even when your gaze flickered down to your feet as you thought to yourself. You didn’t need to look up to know, you could feel it. Like he hadn’t moved at all, but somehow, with that silence, he was closer to you.
“That really what you wanna ask me?” You finally looked up, eyebrows furrowing at his question. You gave him the slightest shake of your head, not of certainty that you could’ve asked something else, but because you forced yourself to accept that you asked the wrong question. That much was clear. He made it clear. You nibbled on your bottom lip, pressing your teeth against it, trying to hold onto something physical to keep your mind from running in circles. And suddenly, the only thing you could think about was what gramma would do. Digging through your every thought, every rule and every warning you’ve been taught for this very minute.
What should you be asking?
What were you supposed to know?
What could you do so he wouldn’t stare at you like that— like he was waiting to see how you’d hold up before you overthought his very presence?
Nothing came. No pull in your chest, no reminder or flicker of knowing. Just that same hollow stretch.
“Don’t reckon I ever learned the right thing to ask.” You admitted hesitantly, rubbing the side of your neck as you pressed your lips together. A rough, vibrating sound left the man, something that came deep from his throat and rumbled into the air. Half a laugh, but heavier than one, more felt than heard. Or maybe the kind of laugh that never really forms, just the edge of it, that slight drag at the end, turning into something that was just shy of a growl but had some sort of bite to it.
And then finally, the sound— the ragged drag of breath, the edge of something close. It lingered in the air, and then a whisper. Right against your ear.
“Antre.”
Just there, curling against your skin like breath in the cold winter air. Like the moment has already moved forward before your mind could realize that it was. It was the push you needed. It’s fate. The thing you needed to get the safety you needed.
The whispers were done now. There wasn’t nothing left to try to negotiate, nothing left to question. They spoke for you, and it was needed. Already set in stone. So, you stepped back, slow and steady, opening the door despite the fact that you ain’t even know his name, or who they was. The earth made it happen. The door swung open, not with force or pressure, but the way it had to, like it knew what to do. Then he moved, a small step forward until he was close enough for you to fully see him without the casts of the shadows around him. For a second, he was just watching, like he was judging you on how you were measuring the weight of what was about to happen, the sight of you stepping back, the weight of the land moving for you. His tongue peeked out from in between his lips, dragging slow across his bottom lip, like he was ‘bout ready to pounce on you the same way a lion does to a deer.
“Come on in, then.” Your words landed soft and steady, wasn’t just permission but a statement of what was already happening. His eyes flicked up to meet yours again, a lazy grin on his face that ain’t shown an ounce of comfort or kindness. With slow steps, crossing the threshold like he’d already been inside a thousand times before, he made his way into the house. His shoulder brushed yours, not forcefully or by accident, but a deliberate gesture just enough to be felt and to stick to you. And when he turned towards the living room, the space stretched out before him, his gaze dragged. Not admiring the warmth of the decor, not on the shadows lurking around or the flicker of the fireplace, but at you. Then he took a deep breath in, savoring the air like he was settling back in after a long trip, like he was coming home from work.
“Juju always did say you’d be a smart girl.” His words landed easy, absentminded, but they wasn’t. Not really. He didn’t bother looking at you when he said it. Didn’t even really bother waiting for a reaction, didn’t seem to need one. He just stepped aside, giving space for the others to follow. Like they all understood they belonged here, and you was just some slow girl who was catching up too late.
You opened your mouth, to ask how he knew your gramma by name, to try to catch that missing piece before it disappeared forever. But the moment already passed, had kept you just a step behind them. By the time you realized it, he was already at the couch. The fabric groaned under him as he settled in, not stiff or weak, but at ease, like the house had already decided to hold him. His legs stretched out against the floor, spread out in a way that’d only be comfortable for a man. His fingers dragged lightly along the grain of the wood, taking in every texture of the couch, purposefully letting the place sink into him the way he was sinking into it. He leaned his head back against the head of the couch, his gaze glued to you as if he was waiting for you to say something before propping his arm up against the back of the couch.
“How you know gramma?” You asked quickly, a little too quickly, and he noticed. His brow lifted, not like he was startled or offended by your question, just letting the question sit before deciding what to do with it. He moved slightly. Just enough for the couch to groan beneath him, for his shoulders to sink a little lower, for his hips to shift up deliberately, like he was settling into the comfort of the house before answering your damn question. The woman snickered, but his hand was already lifting up to wave the sound off before it could finish off into a laugh.
That couple was too settled, too at ease. When your eyes finally dragged back to him— you caught the way he was looking, not like he was just watching or peeking at a stranger. It was something deeper, something far too intimate for a random. It was like water moving into cloth, taking its time to sink in, to claim space, to belong where it wasn’t invited. It wasn’t hunger, though it was almost there. But then his gaze slid down just slightly so his eyes could linger on the exposure of your neck, before he gave out a small breath of air.
“Funny that you don’t already know,” he spoke gently, curling around the space between you two. The weight of it settled into the quiet between you. He let it sit there. Let the silence soak into him, like it belonged to him as much as anything else in the room. He ran his hand along his inner thigh before casting a quick glance towards the empty space beside him. Just long enough for the meaning to settle before his eyes found you again. “Ain’t your fault, I s’pose. Got all night to remind you, ain’t in no rush.”
You blinked in momentary surprise, your eyes following his as he looked down to the cushion beside him. You could hear his order even if he didn’t speak it. The whisper in your ear, telling you to sit down, was enough confirmation. The whisper wasn’t there, not in the way the voices usually were, or the way instructions were given, but in the back of your head like you would’ve been stupid to not want to listen. But it was there, spiraling in your head until it was all you could think about. The words were soft, pressing against your ribs like a breath that hadn’t even left your mouth but still forcing through every fiber of your being. You were moving again before you had the opportunity to object, the cushion sinking beneath you as you forced a gap between the two of you. Not enough to be safe, or to go unnoticed, or out of arm’s reach, just enough to remind yourself that you had the opportunity to move if you needed to.
“You scared, or is that pretty head of yours just figuring out how deep the remembering’s gotta go?”
“I ain’t afraid.” You snapped back, a little too sharp, a second too quick, and an awful lot defensively. He caught it. Didn’t bother calling you out, or pushing back, just casted a look towards the two people he came with. For a second you’d expected one of them to call you on your bluff, but the three of them shared a glance, like they was having a conversation with just their eyes. His tongue pressed slow against his teeth, just a moment of hesitation like he was holding himself back from words that weren’t necessary just yet. All he did was take a look down to the space between you two before trailing his eyes up along your body.
“Ain’t me keeping all that space there.” He noted with a low voice, letting his eyes dip along the curve of your waist before finally meeting your face. You held his gaze for a split second before looking away towards the comfort of the fireplace like it’d give you all the answers you sought.
“That’s ‘cause you’re a stranger.” He didn’t respond at that, tilting his head to the side like he was weighing the word. Stranger. He tapped his fingers on the back of the couch just where your shoulder rested against, and though it wasn’t a means to get your attention back on him. It worked.
“Stranger ain’t the right word, girl. Reckon you know that too.” You captured your bottom lip between your teeth hard enough to keep the annoyance from surfacing at his lack of a real answer, but gave him an unsure shrug.
“I don’t know y’all, you won’t tell me what you are.” The words hung between you, capturing the heaviness of your words, the helplessness at the edge, the frustration there. He let the silence drag even longer at that. Not in avoidance or the lack of an answer, but just to study that look of annoyance on your face without the interruption of his own voice.
“Ain’t the name that matters,” he shifted forward, slow and certain, like he wasn’t considering the movement, just following a second instinct. His hand slowly moved along the curve of the couch, inching its way up to lightly brush along the fabric of your nightgown. You tensed under him, tight enough for the muscles in your shoulders to coil up just enough that you were certain he’d notice. “You can call me whatever you want— the night man, the stray, night walker. Most call me Remmick,” his hand didn’t stop, not right away, just kept following the curve of your neck before letting his hand settle there. The weight of his palm rested lazy against your skin, like it fit there, like it was a missing piece. “Ain’t too picky. S’pose I’d like to hear how it sounds from you first.”
Your gaze flickered down, catching the lack of warmth to his hand, that tight steady pressure against your neck. His thumb pressed against the side of your jaw, a slow, guiding gesture as he turned your head back to him. You peeked over, just a glance, to try to see through the shadows that hid the couple he came with. But it didn’t linger, not long enough before his thumb was tapping against your jaw to bring your eyes back to him instead. “Eyes on me.”
You were quick to look back at him, not just cause he gave your throat a gentle squeeze to snap your attention to him once more. That ain’t what pulled you back. Not really. Your body was already moving before you did. Like it was second nature. Like you was already following something that wasn’t spoken, something he didn’t have to voice twice for. That slight pressure, not like he was forcing you or demanding, just enough to remind you of where his hand was and where you were. He slowly leaned forward, just enough for the tip of his nose to nudge against the side of your cheek. “Remmick?” You mumbled slightly, tense, taken aback, confused. But the question just hung there in between the silence of the room and the creak of the couch as he moved closer. He didn’t answer right away, apparently didn’t need to, just kept his hand firm against your neck and his nose pressed against your cheek.
He inhaled slowly, deeply as if savoring every molecule of your scent and the way his name fell off your tongue. His lips brushed against the warmth of your skin in a languid path, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake as he inched his way towards your ear. He paused, taking another long, deliberate inhale, flooding his senses with every inch of you. “Ain’t even started yet, and you already tense,” his words murmured against the delicate skin of her throat, the vibrations sending shivers down your spine. His head dipped lower, his lips dragging a path of heat downwards until he found the flutter of heartbeat at the base of your throat. He stilled, the heat of his breath heavy against the pulse he hovered over. “You feel that?”
You swallowed hard, trying to calm the nerves in your stomach and that red flashing light in your head that told you this was a bad idea. "Feel what?" It came out real pathetic, barely audible like he was choking the life out you. His tongue flicked out, a fleeting, teasing caress against that rapid pulse but he was quick to reach down and grab hold of your wrist to stop you from moving.
“I’ll show you.” His grip on your throat tightened, just enough to get your heart beating against your chest like an impatient bird locked up in its cage. You jerked under him, your feet kicking and sliding against the fabric of the couch as you sucked in a sharp breath through your nose. The first touch is barely there. Then— the weight of his hand. Not holding you still, just there, pressing up against the side of your face like he was tryna give you something to lean into.
This is wrong. You gotta move. Who cares ‘bout the test? Do something. Don’t just let him sniff up on you like a dog in rut. Do something idiot.
But you couldn’t, you weren’t sure why. Maybe you liked it, maybe you was afraid, but you let him. And then, that press.
The faintest drag of teeth against flesh, just enough to have you pulling back with a shiver, enough to feel the sharpness before they sink in. His lips grazed the spot, pressing a soft kiss there, tasting the skin, testing to see if you’d pull away or lean into it. But when you didn’t fight back, just gave out a strangled hum, his teeth pressed against the pulse. It ain’t a lunge or a tear. Not sloppy or all tongue. Just pressure. That brief shock of something sharp, turned into heat, thrumming against his teeth like your body already knows what’s happening. Just sharp, fleeting pressure, like the moment before a needle breaks the surface.
Then a slow bloom of heat, something real warm rushing through your nerves like a delayed reaction. And again, your body registers it faster than your mind, not in alarm or fear, just instinctive awareness that something’s pulling, something’s taking. The faint ache of punctured skin shifts curling deep into your gut, and there’s that tug, like a slow surrender. Your pulse stutters for half a second, like your body was fully adjusting to it, almost liking it. And then— a strange, lingering warmth. You could barely make out the little groan that slipped from his lips, like it took everything in him to not indulge in the moment.
A deep, humming sensation sits beneath the surface, not of pain, but a profound growth of pleasure that suffused through you. You hadn’t even noticed the way your head had gone slack, lolling back against his hand until the pad of his thumb running along the side of your jaw had brought you back to your senses. A weak, breathy grunt escaped your lips, pushing yourself up against his hand, and he let you, quietly easing your body back. Keeping the warmth of his mouth against you deliberate, and lazy. “Shh, I know,” He murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble against your skin. His thumb traced the hinge of your jaw, a slow touch as he cupped the side of your face to guide you to look away.
Not too deep. Not too much. Just enough for the taste of you to hit his tongue, enough for the air between you to shift, and stretch so damn thin you was sure you’d pass out. It was something far more complex, a maelstrom of sensation that curled like smoke through your veins before it transformed into a quieter, more deliberate pleasure. Something just enough to mean something without taking too much. And when he pulls back, the wound isn’t much. Your hand flies up to the side of your neck, instinctively searching for the two marks, just a lingering warmth, just enough that you’d feel it long after he’s moved back from your throat. Heat blooms first, a sudden rush, something bright against the dull ache where his teeth settled in.
“You bit me.” You slurred out, as if the realization had only just dawned on you now that’d he gone pulled away from you, your voice laced with something between shock and offense. You brought two trembling fingers to your face, staring down at the crimson slick of blood and saliva that clung to your skin like a dark, glistening dew. His eyes followed your movement, a constricted, hungry glint in the shine of his pupils as he took in the sight of it. Your eyes flicked around the room, only to be met with the absence of a crowd, the dark curl of shadows stretching out over the walls.
He grinned then, a slight, wicked curve of his lips that sent a bolt of energy straight to your soul. His tongue darted out, painted in the crimson smear of your blood painting his tongue a dark, enticing red as it swiped across his bottom lip in half means to clean up the mess he’d made. “Gon’ be good and let me do it again? Or stay all dramatic?” You blinked in confusion at his question, like it’d be a normal thing to go around getting your neck chomped by the night man, but you couldn’t find it in you to try to speak or object. He leaned in closer, breath hot and heavy against your skin as he dragged the slick flat of his tongue against the indented mark his teeth left on your throat. The sensation was a sharp bolt of pleasure, one that seemed to send a warmth in your belly. His hand slid higher, fingers curling around the slender column of your throat, squeezing with a deliberate force that made your vision blur.
“You gon’ kill me.” Your breath came out too ragged, messy and taut, dragging in shallow breaths, like your body was forcing you to stay still but your mind was fighting for you to run.
You could hear the tremble in your voice, tried to ignore the ragged breaths of your body to keep from panicking any more. You tried your best to keep a level head, to remind yourself that this was a test, and you had to do what you could to not get cold feet. You forced yourself still, to remind yourself that this was a test, panic wasn’t an option. Couldn’t afford cold feet.
“Ain’t taking more than you can give,” he corrected with a gravely voice, lips hovering a mere hairsbreadth from the dark, blooming mark he'd left upon your throat. You wanted to push him for an answer, to ask him to help you make sense of his words, but instead, you lavished in the feeling of his lips planting a soothing kiss to the tender flesh. “You gonna let me?”
And without knowing, you was already nodding at his question, sucking on your bottom lip to keep from getting a shaky mouth. “Is it gonna hurt?” You could feel the smirk growing on his lips at your question, humming low and firm against your skin as one hand slipped down along the curve of your hip.
“Wasn’t easy for your brother. Can be easier for you.” His hand slid from your jaw to your shoulder, fingers curling around the delicate bone, anchoring you to him. His eyes held yours, a molten gaze that seemed to see straight through to the terrified, like he was tryna make sure you fully understood his words, yet didn’t say anything else. You stared up at the ceiling, eyebrows furrowed as you tried to connect the puzzle pieces he laid out for you.
He brought two fingers to your chin, tilting your head to the side so you can meet his scorching gaze once again. You felt the slow, deliberate slide of his fingers against the flesh of your bottom lip, parting it with a gentle insistence that brooked no resistance. “Open your mouth,” your eyes snapped to his face, scanning every inch to see if he was making a joke of you. He looked down at you, the glow of the fireplace casting a dark light in his eyes that shadowed his face so perfectly he looked unreal. “Ain’t gonna say it again.”
You hesitantly parted your lips, your eyes following every subtle shift of movement in his face as he watched you. He slowly nudged your lips further apart, his fingers pressing deeper to prop your mouth open just a little wider. Just enough that he could see the pink base of your tongue. His mouth opened, and before you could react, he was spitting the thick mixture of the coppery tang of your blood with the warm, iron laced flavor of his saliva directly onto your tongue. For a split second, a wave of emotions slapped you in the face, more offense to the man who just spit on your tongue, but the longer the taste lingered there, the more you actually liked it. It tingled across your taste buds, a dark, taboo essence that sent a strange sensation alive in your stomach.
Before you could even begin to process it, his fingers were pushing in deeper into your mouth, easing you to swallow that offering. As his digits pushed past your teeth, your tongue instinctively curled around them, the muscle fluttering and moving against his fingers with a mind of its own. He sucked in a slow breath at the sight, giving you a little nod of silent encouragement to keep going. He took cruel advantage of your mouth, using the slick, silken heat of your tongue to coat his fingers. “Oh, look at that.” He strained out with a slight groan, the hand placed on your hip slowly guiding you up against him so he was rested pressed in between your legs.
He eased you to swallow the combination of your shared essences sliding down your throat in a thick, viscous rope. The sensation was odd. The sheer depravity of it sending a bolt of hot, forbidden pleasure moving through your veins. It was as if, in that moment, you could feel his presence inside you, the claim upon your body and soul growing stronger, more absolute with each passing second. Your throat worked convulsively around the invading fingers, muscles clenching and rippling as they struggled to accommodate the sudden, unwanted intrusion.
As you finally managed to force down the last of the combination, your lungs burned with the need for air. As you gasped and choked, fighting to fill your lungs with much-needed oxygen. As you fought to regain your breath, lungs sore with the desperate need for oxygen, his fingers remained an unyielding presence in your mouth, a lewd plug preventing the heavy gasps from escaping. Each ragged, strangled inhale sent a fresh surge of humiliation coursing through you, the hidden knowledge that your body kept responding to him without hesitation. It was a twisted parody of intimacy, a perverse mockery of the way lovers might share breath and saliva in the heat of passion. And yet, despite the degradation, and deep humiliation of it all, you couldn't deny the way your body reacted, the way your skin burned up like it was on fire.
His lips crashed against yours in a messy kiss, his tongue slipping against yours, as if he meant to devour you inside out. He licked into your mouth, his tongue swirling and twining with your own in a way that physically stole your breath. It was quick, and sloppy, and not nearly as long as you secretly wanted it to be. He broke the kiss, forcing your head to turn towards the warmth of the fireplace before trailing quick kisses along your jaw. Moving further and further down back towards the mark he left a few moments before. His breath ghosts over the skin first, dragging out the anticipation. The way he kisses against your skin is controlled—slow, wet, not rushed, not impatient like the kiss was. You were so locked onto the feel of his mouth against your neck that you hadn’t even noticed the feeling of teeth there again.
The bite wasn’t like the one from before. It was sharp, deep, cutting through skin enough to the point it bordered on painful. The bite was this hot fire that seared through your flesh and bone, piercing the very essence of your being. You couldn’t even force out a scream or a gasp at the heat of teeth tearing through skin, muscle, and sinew to pierce the pulsing artery beneath.
All you could feel and see was the blood that gushed into the air, a scarlet fountain that splashed across his face to paint his skin a glistening red. All you could smell was the scent of your own blood, thick and cloying, the metallic tang of it burning through your nostrils and your tongue. The room spun, tilted wildly as the strength drained from your body, with each spurt of crimson.
As your body struggled against the change, your mind soared. Memories blurred and bled together, the line between past and present, reality and nightmare, dissolving into a hallucinatory haze. All you could think about was gramma. All your memories revolved to this very moment. All the life flashing back before your eyes, just for this.
For the feeling of the life leaving you.
All you could feel was the pain. So immense. So unbearable. So real. The last thing you felt was your heart stutter and pause in your chest, your lungs burning for air that could not fill them.
And then— just sleep.
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paleode-ology ¡ 10 months ago
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alrighty after today's tmagp ep i'm starting to think that it might be time for me to learn what happened in s5 of tma,,,,, I never listened to it and idk if I want to, i might just read the transcripts (faster) or summaries on the wiki (MUCH faster) but with all the name-dropping it's starting to seem like there's probably some relevant information that i'm missing out on atm
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seaofreverie ¡ 6 months ago
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I knew about the post concert depression but no one told me about the post concert constant feeling of AAAAAAAAAHHH that lasts days and makes everything much more bearable and beautiful and some sort of ethereal type of hope is restored into the world, or maybe it's just the "seeing your favourite band after first thinking that it would never happen and later spending many months waiting for it all the while fearing that it wouldn't happen after all because of circumstances outside my control or feeling like it was too beautiful and wonderful to be true so ofc it wouldn't come true" part of it all
#guys i love they might be giants. did you know about this#me days before the show: crying because i will see they might be giants#me days after the show: crying because i saw they might be giants#truth is that i didn't actually full on cry until yesterday evening though so once i was back home so it was all officially over#and it was time to just slow down and realize that oh well wow. so all that just happened. like for realsies#i also finally looked through my videos and my recording of the whole show (yes as an archivist freak who records audio from most concerts#i obviously had to record this one also. now i can listen to it again and again and be remided that i didn't dream it all up after all)#but yeah all this and now i'm supposed to move on and go back to my stupid daily life#like i didn't just have one of those real actual life experiences and moments of pure fun that other people generally get from time to time#and that i haven't had since idk even when a year and a half ago#thats the last time i consider truly amazing on a level somewhat comparable to this. but back to the show and the whole thing.#like this wouldn't have been quite as perfect if i didn't share that time with fellow fans / friends that i ended up attending the show wit#you don't realize how badly you've been wanting to be included in things and for people to be genuinely fond of you and like your company#until you get included and shown that fondness. like wow i'm allowed to have fun too after all. can it happen again someday please. anyway#i'm just glad that in midst of my big bad awful times i could have this truly amazing 10/10 time#and i guess it doesn't have to be the last such time right. even if it's easy to give into the feeling that it is#but ok anyway i'll get to that proper show recap later when i can think clearly again#and maybe more on that more personal side of it all too because well i have many more thoughts obviously#but whether i get to that in 3 days or 3 months is a mystery for now. just kind of a lot to think about once again#and my stupid baka life continues on also whether i like it or not so that has to be taken into consideration as well#time to think again about school that i'm so totally fully failing now with my two weeks long absence yayyy. its fine i'll figure it all out#goosepost
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sachermorte ¡ 1 year ago
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so the thing about english is that people think it's so divorced from other germanic languages based on like. words. I've even heard people try to insist that english is a romance language. because of that whole messy business in 1066 with out-of-wedlock willy and his band of naughty normans. and now a good chunk of the vocabulary is french or whatever and they're prestigious so not using them makes you sound like a rube and this and that and the other
and yes william the conqueror will never be safe from me. I will have my revenge on him. he fucked up a perfectly good germanic language is what he did. this will be me in hell
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but the thing is that most words in, say, german do have a one to one english equivalent. not all hope is lost, for those who still dare to see it. it's just that you 1066pilled normancels aren't looking in the right place
dog (en) ≠ der Hund (de) but der Hund (de) -> hound (en)
look with your special eyes. that one was easier. not all of them are this intuitive because of semantic narrowing and broadening and waltzing and hokey-pokeying and whatever else. I'll give you a few more
animal (en) ≠ das Tier (de)
aha! you think. I've got him on the ropes now.
but then
das Tier (de) -> deer (en)
nooooo!! you whine and cry in gay baby jail. the consonants are different!!! listen to me. listen, I say, putting both my hands on your shoulder. /t/and /d/ are the same sound. you just put your voice behind one of them.
nooooooooo!! you wail. deer are animals but not all animals are deer!!! listen to me. LISTEN. they used to be. animals used to be deer. that's just what we called them. it was a long time ago. it was a weird time in all our lives. it's okay.
let's try for a verb this time
to die (en) ≠ sterben (de) but sterben (de) -> to starve
same principle with the consonants, we're just changing a stop (where we completely stop the airflow and then let it through) for a fricative (where we still let some air go through. idk where it's going. maybe to its job or something.)
to starve used to mean generally to die, not just to die of malnourishment. we do that a lot. we take one word for a lot of things and make it mean one thing. or take one word for one thing and make it mean a lot of things. this is common and normal.
"okay but roland," you say, suddenly coming up with an argument. "what about tree? trees are super common. I don't think we'd fuck around too much with that. the german word is baum! what about THAT?"
"when did you learn german?" I ask, but then decide it isn't relevant right at this very moment. but fine.
tree (en) ≠ der Baum (de) but der Baum (de) -> beam (en)
beam??? you ask incredulously. beam???? BEAM?????? you continue with the same tone and cadence of captain holt from brooklyn 99.
yes. beam. like the evil beams from my eye I'm going to hit you with if you don't stop shouting.
but the vowels!!! you howl.
listen. listen to me. the vowels mean nothing. absolutely nothing. they're fluid like water. it got raised in english.
"WHAT DOES RAISED MEAN"
it doesn't matter right now. they were raised better than you, at least. stop shouting. open your eyes and see what god has given you. they're the same word.
"they're NOT the same word. they mean different things!"
we've been over this. they didn't used to. a beam was (and is) a long solid piece of wood. much like the long solid piece of wood I showed your mother last night.
FAQ:
Q: could english be some kind of germanic-romance hybrid?
A: do you become a sexy thing from the black lagoon just because you dressed up as one for halloween? english may have gotten a lot of vocabulary from norman french, but its history and syntax are distinctly germanic. that's what we base these things on.
Q: okay but what does it matter? this doesn't actually affect my day to day life
A: you come into my house? you come into my house, the house of an autistic man living in vienna austria and studying english linguistics and you ask me what does it matter? sit back down. I was going to let you go but now I have powerpoints to show you
Q: you're stupid and wrong and gay and a bad person
A: I know it's you, Willy
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moonstruckme ¡ 4 months ago
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tumblr is hiding only the request I want from me again :(
request: would u be able to do a poly emt marauders x reader where the reader is iron deficient cause she doesnt eat properly (always eating like "girl dinners") and the boys tell her off for it
cw: poor eating/nutrition intake, potential ed triggers although portions aren't mentioned and the boys aren't concerned about reader's general relationship to food, Sirius being a bit prickly because he's worried+protective
emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 821 words
It’s only just past dark, but your head longs for a pillow. Sirius’ shoulder does well for now, his fan of cards held in his other hand to avoid jostling you as he plays rummy with your boyfriends. You’d surrendered your own cards to the discard pile a few rounds ago, content to watch Sirius on your one side and Remus on your other as they both try to beat James, who’s better at the game than any of you. He radiates a smug self-assurance as he looks down at his cards that bodes poorly for your other boyfriends. 
James looks up and catches you watching him, his instinctive smile tinging with sympathy as he notes your drooping eyes. “Sleepy, sweetheart?” 
“Yeah, sorry.” You try to blink yourself to alertness. “I’ve been tired so early lately, I don’t know why.” 
There’s a brief moment of silence wherein you think to regret your statement. Then, Sirius sing-songs, “I know.” 
You groan, transfering to Remus’ shoulder in a show of dissent. He chuckles and takes you in, wrapping an arm around you. His cards fold over your shoulder. 
“He’s right, you know,” Remus says. 
“Angel.” James sets his cards down, looking at you imploringly. “Let me make you something, please.” 
“I already ate.” 
Sirius scoffs. “You had a snack.” 
You turn your forehead into Remus’ shoulder sulkily. You know any arguments will only be rebuked. 
Your boyfriends came home from their shift just in time to find you finishing up your dinner. On your plate was everything you could want—sweet, savory, and just enough to fill you up—but evidently it left something to be desired for them. Remus had looked down at it and said, “That’s not your dinner, is it?” 
“Yeah,” you replied, warily. 
“Baby,” Sirius laughed, picking up a grape. “This is not a meal.” 
You stole the grape back from him, popping it into your mouth. “It’s girl dinner.” 
“I’m fairly sure girls need just as much nutrients as everyone else, gorgeous.” 
“There’s nutrients in this.” You waved demonstratively to your plate of grapes, cheese, and crackers. That was practically half of the food pyramid, you were pretty sure. “Leave my dinner alone.” 
Remus had begun talking about the necessity of balanced meals, and things devolved from there into a debate about health and nutrition which you’d tabled by telling your boyfriends (with love) to mind their own business. You doubt you’re getting out of it again quite so easily. 
“It’s not like I had a chocolate bar,” you mumble. “It was healthy.” 
“It was healthy,” James agrees, tone placating. “It just wasn’t everything you need in a meal, sweetheart. You’re probably tired because there was no iron in there.” 
“I’ve been tired for days, though.” 
“And when was the last time you had an iron-rich meal?” Remus asks. 
You’re silent. Sirius laughs. 
“It can be hard to keep track of.” James is ever forgiving. “How about some eggs, yeah?” 
You turn your face again to look at him. “I’m already pretty full,” you say honestly. 
“One egg, then. With spinach.” He stands, leaving his cards flat on the table and stooping to drop a kiss on your head as he goes by. “Thank you, m’love.” 
“Thanks,” you say back, sheepish. 
You fall quiet again after James goes. You listen to the sound of the cupboards opening and closing in the kitchen, the crack of an egg, the stove being flicked on. After a while, Sirius snickers and pokes your ribs. 
“Don’t pout,” he says. He pokes you again until you smile, hiding it under Remus’ arm. 
“I hate it when you guys are right.” You heave a sigh, affecting a tone of mopiness. “It’s never any fun for me.” 
“Awe.” Sirius leans over to rest his head on your shoulder. Remus chuckles, shifting his arm to accommodate the both of you. “I’m sorry it happens to you so often, baby.” 
That makes you laugh, though you try to muffle the sound. “Mean.” 
“I’ve never claimed to be anything different.” 
“It’s important to be sure you’re getting everything you need from your food, dove,” says Remus, at one soft and stern. “You need to choose more carefully.” 
“Okay,” you acquiesce. In truth, the fight left you long ago. “Sorry.” 
“You don’t need to be sorry, though.” He kisses the top of your head. 
“You can totally make it up,” says James, coming back with a small plate, “by eating these delicious eggs.” 
You take the plate from him with a small smile of thanks. “Eggs, as in plural?” 
He grins, caught. “There may be two. Sorry.” 
“This is how you earn your forgiveness,” Sirius teases, sitting up so you can eat. He bumps your shoulder lightly with his. 
“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, but scoop up a forkful of eggs. After your first mouthful, you say, “These are really good, Jamie. Thanks.” 
His beaming smile is worth the stomachache. 
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verstappen-cult ¡ 10 months ago
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PRAISE, M. VERSTAPPEN.
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✶ SUMMARY. Max knows he’s good at his job, he was raised to be the best driver, the perfect son, and knows he’s talented. The bad thing is that he has to listen to people complimenting him almost everyday. He really thinks he’s good at hiding how shy and uncomfortable it makes him, and it’s just that Max can’t seem to take compliments from anyone but you.
content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. lots of fluff. my favorite kind of max: flustered max. P in V. sub/dom dynamics. praise kink. unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it kiddos. breeding kink. redbull racing slander because we are tired of them not doing their job. english is not my first language.
GWEN RAMBLES — i started writing this after the awful events of sunday, and finished it today! this was requested a while ago and to the person who asked for it – i’m sorry it took me so long! hope y’all like it. comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated.
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Max gets uncomfortable when people compliment him. He knows he's good at what he does, knows he’s talented. And when people call him handsome? Compliment his hair? His arms? He has a hard time trying not to show how affected he actually is.
However, you know him in ways the rest of the world doesn't.
Max likes it when you compliment his cooking. It's not deserving of a five star Michelin rating, but good enough to eat and perfect the dish.
"How did you came up with this?" You ask, raising a spoonful of vegetables with a sweet and sour sauce.
Max can't keep his eyes off of you, waiting for your reaction patiently and anxiously. "I saw it in a video. But it was my idea to add the sauce to give it a little spin." He shrugs, his cheeks gaining a pretty pink color the second you make eye contact with him.
"It's delicious," You whisper, licking the rests of sauce from the spoon. Max's eyes glaze over and he forces himself to look away if he actually wants to make it through dinner. "You're such a good cook, Max. If you weren't a racing driver, I'm sure you would've had a restaurant."
Now, Max blushes furiously, the spoon falling from his fingers and on the plate. He opens his mouth to say something but nothing comes to mind, and you bite your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing at his flustered state.
Max likes it when you jump into his open arms after a good qualifying session or podium celebrations, all happy and giddy as he still tries to shake off the adrenaline.
"You did such a good job!" He wraps his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground. He's still pretty much on cloud nine and with you in his arms it can't get any more perfect. "You were flying out there!"
“Oh, I wouldn’t go that far.” You are not looking at his precious face, but you know he’s blushing for the way his voice falters. Once he puts you down, Max hides his face away by busying himself with getting rid of his champagne-soaked race suit.
His reluctance to accept your compliment doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, he always brushes them off. You thought he didn't like it at first, it was really awkward when you started dating and he would ignore you, but as time went on you learned that he just doesn't know how to react to them. His PR training has helped him a lot for when the press and the public in general praise him for his excellent driving and fast reflexes almost every day of his life, but Max still gets flustered when you are the one complimenting him. You love to tease him about it.
Max likes it when you praise him during sex.
Especially when he surrenders himself to you.
"Look at you," You coo at him, the back of your hand caressing his cheek ever so slightly. "being so good for me." Max draws in a sharp breath, your touch burning in the most delicious way even if you're barely doing it.
You press a kiss on his naked shoulder, his smooth and warm skin shining with sweat.
“I’m always good.” He rasps, leaning his head to the side and presenting his neck to you.
You laugh softly, moving away to look into the depths of his ocean blue eyes. “Of course you are.” The smile he gives you makes your heart hammer in your ears.
Max opens his mouth to speak but falls silent as you continue to kiss along his collarbones, running your tongue and creating a path down over his chest, your soft lips making contact with his nipples.
He arches his back when you capture a nub between your teeth, hands grabbing the sheets because he knows he can’t touch you unless you allow him to. And he’s good. He wants to be good.
Max bites his bottom lip as you pinch his other nipple with your fingers. He’s having a hard time trying to stay still, his whole body shivers at your ministration.
“Always so sensitive.” You say, swiping your thumb over the pebbled flesh. Max only nods, his blushed face twisted in pleasure. “Such a good boy, uh?”
You lift your skirt up to straddle his hips, sitting just above his hard cock, still tucked away in his trousers.
“You did such a good job today.” You say, rocking your hips and planting your hands on his stomach. Max groans, shaking his head. “What was that?”
“It was,” He sighs, closing his eyes to try and regain some control over his body, but he’s sensitive and can feel your slick dripping over his clothed cock. “It was awful today.”
You tsk, nodding your approval. “It was.” His face falls for a moment, expression somber. “They don’t deserve you, not at all.” His eyes shine again, just like that. “You’re practically doing everything by yourself, isn’t that right?”
“Y-yes.” His knuckles are white from gripping the sheets trying to follow your earlier instructions, so you take pity on him. Your touch is soft as you take his hands and place them on your waist, and Max doesn’t waste a second on gripping you so hard you know you’ll have bruises the size of his hands tomorrow. The mere thought of walking around with his bruises makes you clench around nothing.
“No one is doing it like you, Max.” You purr his name, and his eyes roll to the back of his head.
Max lets out a low groan, hips thrusting up with force. He needs release. He needs you.
“Please.” He whispers, and you lower yourself to be at the same level, lips grazing his.
“What do you need?”
“Please,” He says again, almost whining. “Please.”
“You need to use your words. I don’t know what your please means, Max.” You pinch his nipple and he gasps, tilting his head.
His pupils are blown wide when he opens his eyes to look directly into yours. “I want – please I want you to ride me.” His voice breaks in a moan.
“See?” You cup his jaw, thumb caressing his bottom lip. “That wasn’t so hard.”
Max’s mind is blank except for thoughts of you. You on top of him. You taking care of him. You fucking him. You, you, you.
You use his chest for support as you help him get rid of his trousers and your skirt. Now, both of you are completely naked and Max can’t fight the moan that slips from his lips when he feels the heat of your cunt against his hard and leaking cock. It’s painful.
Max gazes down and his mouth waters. The thought of laying you down and claiming his favorite spot between your legs to taste you is almost enough to send him over the edge.
You trail your hand down his chest, not breaking eye contact, not wanting to miss any of his reactions. Like the way his entire face twist in pleasure, his eyebrows furrowing and his mouth hanging open, when you wrap your hand around his cock.
Max still has a little of self control but it’s exhausting, he doesn’t know how much he can actually take before reaching his limit and spilling his seed. And he doesn’t want to waste it. He wants to come inside of you, wants to fill you up and stay there. So he says it.
And you shudder in response. You’re soaking wet, so it’s enough to not need prep, even though Max is big and he loves to prep you for it; you want it to hurt today, you want to be sore and feel him all day.
You guide his cock with trembling hands, feeling the tip fighting its way into your cunt.
You place both hands on his chest as he grips your hips as his life depends on it. You sink down on him, adjusting and pressing down slowly. It is torture for Max, you see it in the way his jaw tenses and sweat coats in his forehead. But he doesn’t protest, he takes everything you give him in silence.
“You feel,” You gasp at the sensation of finally having him deep inside of you. Max tosses his head back when he feels you clench around him. “so,” He moans louder, bucking his hips into you as you start riding him, fingernails scrapping his skin. “good.”
You take him deeper every time you raise your hips, letting yourself fall down hard, your clit grinding against his skin and making you moan loudly.
Max is mesmerized by the view.
And Max really doesn’t know where to look. If your contorted face and mouth open, moans and praises falling from your lips mixing with the squelching sounds of your cunt. Or your breast bouncing with every move. Or the connection between your bodies, how his cock disappears inside of you over and over again, driving him closer to the edge.
“Fucking me so good,” You start babbling, and Max knows you’re close to your orgasm.
He pulls you down against him and starts thrusting into you with urgency. You tuck your head against his neck and sink your teeth into his skin, marking him. Claiming him.
His cock digs deep inside, the tip rubbing against that sensitive spot that makes you tremble and see stars behind your eyelids.
Max reaches his climax with loud moans and calls of your name. He fills you up and continues to fuck his seed into you until your whole body goes still and the whole world cease to exist except for you and him.
Max doesn’t pull out until he’s certain you’ve taken every last drop. It is only when it gets cold and you want to cuddle under the blankets that you move off him, his pout at not having your weight on top of him making you giggle.
“Did so good.” You whisper, not recognising your own broken voice. “My sweet boy.”
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do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | Š verstappen-cult, 2024.
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transmisogyny-explained ¡ 6 months ago
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I want to submit a perspective on "afab transfemininity" from. an afab multi gender person. I know my experience isn't representative of everyone who calls themselves this, but I wanted to at least share
I don't call myself a trans woman, I hesitate to call myself transfem. nonetheless, I feel connected to femininity in a distinctly transgender way. when I first came out, I hated being a girl. I was a transmedicalist and validated myself by invalidating others. I had to face a lot of internalized misogyny and transphobia in order to really learn what it meant to be a man. after I started testosterone about 3 yrs ago, I realized I was a lesbian, and started feeling more comfortable being, at least in part, a woman. it was different this time because it was something I liked, something new and my own, not something ascribed to me. it's not cisgender in any way, it is transfemininity
this being said, I know my experience toward transfemininity is extremely different from the norm. I am not what most people are referring to when they refer to transfems, and there are many definitions of transfem that do not include me. despite that, I do have some experiences that overlap, things I can relate to. my femininity is at its core transgender in nature. my gender now is more complex... I feel like both a man and a woman, neither and both. but that doesn't mean my feelings about my gender are predatory or invalid. I don't want to talk over transfems, I am very aware of my place in these conversations. but I still have a place, and it frustrates me to see you share posts that minimize my experience into a stereotype
Why do you view transfemininity as being, at its core, the experience of being “both a man and a woman” lmao
Get back to me when you start viewing trans women as actual women and transfemininity as actual femininity, and not an aesthetic or a vibe or “some other third thing” apart from femininity.
You “feel femininity in a distinctly transgender way?” Congrats! You’re nonbinary! But that is NOT what being a trans woman is — Their womanhood and femininity is not essentially different from cis women’s.
What you are describing is a very generic experience of being a feminine nonbinary person, and I don't say that to insult you; but to compare that experience to those of trans women’s betrays the fact that you don't view them as the same gender as cis women. Which is transmisogyny. It’s textbook third-gendering.
Call yourself a nonbinary woman- Call yourself whatever you want, in fact. But trans women and TMA people are never going to feel safe around you so long as you continue insisting that transfemininity is essentially the same as the nonbinary femininity you experience, and essentially different from “real” cis women’s femininity.
Also, can I just say that it’s a little condescending that you would end your ask by saying “I’m aware of my place in these conversations, but…”
Like, if you were really “aware of your place” and were actually listening to transfems when we talk about transfeminism, you would be able to recognize the enormous amount of transmisogyny baked into your message. On top of the third-gendering, you also managed to:
Imply that TMA people don’t understand the complexities of gender and nonbinarity like you, a TME person, do
Imply that TMA people creating the language and spaces to discuss our experiences in a way that excludes you, a TME person, is invalidating and somehow tantamount to labeling you as “predatory” (what does that even mean?)
Sent an unprompted ask to a transfem’s blog venting your frustrations with the language of transfeminism, despite the fact that I’m not even the one who made those posts?
Showed a pretty absurd amount of entitlement by insinuating that it’s somehow my problem that you feel frustration over misunderstanding the basics of transfeminist theory
Subtly demanded that I do the emotional labor of managing your frustration, which, frankly, is just classic misogyny
Displayed a complete lack of understanding towards what transmisogyny even is, nor why we, as the direct targets of transmisogyny, need the the language and spaces to discuss it
I really don’t care what transfem “experiences” you think you relate to, the fact that you perpetuate and can benefit from transmisogyny will always separate you from us, and if you actually gave a shit about us and our struggles, you would recognize that and try to be a better ally to us rather than co-opting and redefining our language in a shallow attempt to define us out of existence.
As has been said countless times now:
“Transfeminine” does not mean “trans + feminine,” it is a term coined by TMA people to describe our specific experiences with being denied our femininity. That is something which you, as a person for whom (as you said) womanhood/femininity was ascribed by the system of patriarchy, cannot understand in the way we do.
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thevampireladyambrosia ¡ 4 months ago
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Subject 013
Request via anon.
Pairing: Male!Slime x Female!Reader.
Content Warnings: Dubcon, oviposition, soft yandere, harassment, people go "missing", tentacles, general mindfuckery. I wrote this in the very early hours of the morning.
You couldn't help defending the poor slime.
It had recently been brought into the lab for experiments related to their unique biology. But when you saw the way the scientists and researchers talked to it, you had them fired and took on the case yourself, despite the ever-growing caseload you already had as a head scientist. So that's what led to you watching this slime.
It was a blue gelatinous thing. It seemed unable to speak or take a humanoid appearance. You had already marked it as one of the ones that didn't possess near-human or human intelligence. It didn't seem particularly strong either, so you wondered how it survived out there. Still, you spoke softly to it, told it what you were going to do next in experiments, and just showed it basic decency.
One day you came into the lab in tears. You had been harassed by a group of men on the street. You ended up venting to the slime, strangely enough. It was a surprisingly good listener. Despite the fact it had shown no sign of any understanding, it let out a soft noise. It was oddly comforting. You never saw the men again. You wondered if they had moved to another street to taunt women.
So you continued your research. The slime wasn't the only subject you had. So you tried to divide equal attention to all cases. You have felt really paranoid lately. You couldn't shake the feeling that something or someone was watching you.
You don't realize you had sealed your fate months ago.
Days blur into weeks. The cycle grows rather comforting. As a human there's a certain discomfort that typically comes with change. So the repetitive days are soothing. You do the same tasks, with some minor deviations, daily. You work with the same subjects. You do the same paperwork. So why couldn't you shake the growing unease?
It was a normal Monday evening when the alarms started to go off, signaling an escape. The robotic voice let you know there wasn't one, but eleven escapees. You went to run in that direction. Only to slip on… Slime? Before you can faceplant, something tentacle-like wraps around your wrist.
You turn fast. The blue slime you had been studying? It's in a human form behind you. The only difference is it has tentacle-like appendages instead of limbs.
“You possess the ability to mimic humans?” You immediately ask. You had studied this slime for months. There had been no sign of anything like this. To your shock, it actually responds.
“I possess a lot more than that.” The creature’s mouth doesn't move. It's like the voice comes from its very being. It's a rather deep voice. Almost soothing. Except your nerves are on fire, and everything is screaming at you to run or do something to help stop the subjects from escaping.
“I need to go help capture the escaped subjects.” You say. To be honest? You didn't really want to. You got this job to help the monsters. Yet, it hurts you to keep them locked up. Especially since they get captured against their will. But you also needed this job. It was the only thing that kept you alive. It paid your rent, bills, and for your food. The slime knows this.
“I don't think you actually want to do that.” It says, tightening its grip on your wrist. Before you can process, or say more, you're being pulled away. Out of sight of the cameras. Into a bathroom in the back. You don't fight or kick or anything. Even when its tentacles start to grope your tits.
“I've waited too long for this.” The slime confesses. “Far too long.” You're surprised but you don't protest, even when the slime pulls off your lab coat and melts through the fabric off your clothes. Another thing to add to the list of things you didn't know it could do.
“This is okay, yes?” It asks as it continues to grope your tits and massages your clit with tentacles. It wouldn't stop anyways. But you don't know that.
“It's okay.” You confirm. You feel so warm. So dizzy with arousal. The tentacle rubbing your clit speeds up. Your legs feel like jelly. A tentacle around your waist quickly supports you. Another tentacle penetrates you. You feel a knot tighten as you throw your head back in a moan.
“Such a pretty thing.” The slime coos. “Can you come for me?” It sounds almost condescending, yet you nod. It seems happy that you said this.
And come you do. In fact, you squirt. It's humiliating how your whole body forces out every drop of liquid. But you're too lost in pleasure to care. It feels like the Earth has stopped spinning and there's only you and the slime.
You're snapped back to reality when the first egg presses against your cervix. It hurts when it forces it open and pops in. You go to scream but the slime stops you, cooing and shushing. Another pops in. Then another.
By the time you're released you're heavily distended with eggs and cum. The slime soothes you and helps you fix your clothes. You are then whisked away from the lab.
Now that the slime has you, it intends to keep you forever.
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retiredteabag ¡ 7 months ago
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An Uninformed Narrative
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pt. 1 - next part
Synopsis: You had lived in Stardew Valley for a year before you met the hunter from the adventures guild, Sukuna Itadori. It did not take long for him to catch your attention but you couldn't help feeling as if his affection resided anywhere but you.
Pairing: Sukuna x Reader
This is a Sukuna stardew valley au, heavily inspired by @tearzintheclub's similar series with butcher!sukuna, I highly recommend reading their work, they are super kind and were a big motivation for me to make this!
〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰
You had been dying for a decade before coming to the valley, still, unmercifully, alive. The bitter years you spent milling away on a computer, endless days blurring onto the next. A monotonous cycle of tireless work for a corporation that left you unfulfilled, complacent, and depressed. Holed up in a city you did not even like.
It was corrosive, only now, a year later, could you look back and realize that life didn't begin for you until you moved to your grandfather's farm.
It had been hard work. You knew it would be. Still, the labor it took to keep up with crops and farm animals had been more than you anticipated. But you had friends now, and goals. And that was more valuable than anything.
One year ago, when you came to the valley, romance was quite possibly the last thing occupying your mind. Only now, being able to comfortably settle into your home, could you allow yourself to think about things other than the prosperity of your land and the health of your animals.
That brings us to now.
You had read books about the Stardew Valley mines back in the mountains north of town. Harvey, the village doctor, had warned you of its treacherous depths. Having focused most of your efforts on farm/house maintenance, you had not traversed into dangerous territory beyond upgrading your tools and acquiring bug meat.
This is why, after a whole year of living in the valley, you were surprised to receive a notice in your mailbox from "The Adventurers Guild", an initiation of sorts, requesting you to slay 10 slimes to be granted entry.
You had thought about it all evening. By the next morning, you felt up for the challenge. After taking care of the chores you left you made your way up past the carpenter's shop, dropped off a fish you caught the night before to your friend Linus, and entered the mines.
It had been scary but you protected yourself well and acquired some gems and geodes to show for it. It was late when you made the trek home, but you were determined to enter the adventurers guild the next day.
It had been a delight to meet Gil and Marlon, the two men who ran the guild. They sold weapons and protective gear, offered rewards for monster slaying, and purchased monster loot. Still having some on you, you traded them in for the cash. With a smile on your face, you decided to go into town to buy some icecream for Yuuji, Jas, and Vincent.
Penny, the town's teacher, had the kids in the museum for lessons until 2 PM, so you traveled quickly to meet them in time.
Penny was always a delight. Kind to everyone, even if they did not deserve it. She was so good with the kids as well, and dedicated much of her time to their education.
You had met Penny just a few days after moving to the town at the local flower shop in the Cidersap Forest. You had learned she was quite fond of Poppy flowers and the owner of the little place, Jin Itadori, was unbelievably generous, always interested in hearing about your farm, and always willing to give out a flower or two.
Yuuji, being the florist's son and Penny's student, became a quick friend of yours and always wanted to talk whenever you came by the shop. Of course, you never minded and listened intently whenever the boy felt like sharing a fun fact about the flora in his home.
--
Time passed with the changing of the seasons and it wasn't long before fall was upon you.
Ever since entering the mines and joining the Adventures guild, you have been thinking about the quests Marlon and Gil have sent you on. Though it is dangerous, scouring the mines for the flesh of monsters, it brings you a thrill to know you are doing something good for the community.
A post had gone up on the community board in town about collecting bat wings and bringing the population down to a manageable level the other day, and in your spare time, you had been working on completing the quest.
It was late one night when you began to make your way back up to the mountains from the mine's elevator, you had quite the collection and enough time to sell it at the Guild before making your way home.
"You've been keepin' busy." Marlon greeted you as the wind pushed the door open along with your arm.
You smile at the man, unloading the backpack of your finds. "Well there's always something to do around here." you reply.
"True as the day is long...." Gil rocked back and forth in his chair, pretending to hear your conversation.
"I must say I'm glad to have you 'round. The quest board in town seems to be worked through much faster now." Marlon takes the post you handed him and the 200 bat wings, he was just about to hand you the payment when the door to the Guild swung open.
The hinges seemed to rattle with the shock of the large man's blow of it. He's huffing, yanking a balaclava up and over his face.
He has thick, pink hair and bright red eyes, he's enormous, having to duck just a bit so as not to hit his head on the door frame.
You looked at him, a bit shocked at his garish entrance. He looks so familiar, but his face is covered in tattoos. A unique style you've never seen before, certainly not in Stardew Valley
Despite being at the counter yourself, the lumbering man strides right up next to you, a crumpled piece of paper in his hand. And just then, you have a thought.
Was he doing town board requests too? He was clearly not from the village, you would have met him by now. But Marlon does not spare him much of a glace, even when a stack of bones and a collection of rings is placed on his counter.
"Those damn haunted skulls are somethin' else." The man looks at Marlon with a gaze of distaste but the Guild leader just laughs. The large man doesn't look at you once.
Despite the chill of fall present in the air, he has sweat glistening on his exposed neck, he runs a hand through his hair and you can't help but notice how handsome this man is. The only thing, who was he? And why was he monster hunting in the Valley's mines?
"You got a problem?" Shocked from your thoughts, you look up. You hadn't meant to stare but upon his antagonized question your eyes bulge a bit.
"No! No, no, sorry..." You turn away, collecting the gold Marlon left out for you, ready to turn and leave when the man behind the counter made a gesture with his hand.
He called your name, "This is Sukuna, likely haven't met em' have ya? He's real reserved and all."
So he lives here? How could that be? "Oh, it's nice to meet you!" You go to shake his hand but he just looks you up and down, effectively dissuading that desire.
"So you're the rookie taking all the board requests in town, hmm?" He looks so domineering, still, even having just met him, you can reasonably assume that's just what his face looks like.
You shuffle where you stand, "Er... maybe so, yes... I'm sorry, I didn't know that was your area..." You wave your hand to the array of loot he had seemingly just acquired. He scoffs.
Marlon looks to you, "Sukuna is our most tenured monster hunter-"
Gil interjects from his rocking chair, "If ever there's a board request this here man can't handle, I know hell's right about frozen over."
The man before them did not crack a smile. A shiver went down your spine.
"I see, well, I live on the farm behind the Cidersap Forest-"
He cuts you off, looking almost annoyed, "I know who you are."
Oh.
Okay...
"Gotcha, sorry, well... it was nice meeting you." Sukuna stares at you for a moment before turning back to the Adventurers Guild leaders.
The awkwardness of the moment was painful, you already know youll be obsessing over this first impression for the next month or so and your shaking leg is telling you it is time to escape the embaressment before this man shuts down any more small talk.
You wonder if perhaps Sukuna is upset with you for "taking his job". Or maybe he had a bad day. If he really had been hunting Haunted Skulls, he had probably been dangerously deep in the mines.
Even though his gaze had been piercing, his frown looked permanent, and his tattoos gave off a highly intimidating look. You could tell there had been no malice behind his demeanor. And that, would be a small comfort as you mulled your way through the darkness.
You spent the whole walk home thinking about the large man. You had been everywhere in Stardew Valley yet had never met him.
He must live out of town, you thought as you checked the weather for tomorrow.
Rain. That meant another day in the mines. You needed an upgrade on your equipment if you were going to continue supplying for your growing crops' demands. That meant plunging deeper into the depths of the mine.
Sleep pulled at you even still, just as your eyes fell shut the memory of the pink-haired man popped back up into your brain.
His shirt stuck nauseatingly to his toned chest, his neck glimmering in the firelight of the guild, and those eyes. The red, sharp eyes he had looked you up and down with.
"I know who you are."
It was a small town. Even if you were from the outskirts. It was a shame though... having not met the man before... he certainly seemed interesting.
You shook the man from your thoughts as your dog climbed into the bed and the two of you began to doze off.
Unknown to you, a long and unexpected day awaited you at dawn.
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lyvhie ¡ 11 months ago
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hi omg read the jeno one I requested ATE DOWNNNNNN…… so for nowwwww maybe thinking jeno (sorry I love him…) x shy!reader who doesent really like the idea of jeno seeing her naked cause reader is SCAREDDDD… so he just praises her throughout the whole thing… LOVE UR WORKS they’re so good 💖
-🦋🦋🦋🦋
touch it | ljn
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jeno x fem!reader (18+ mdni)
summary: jeno never intended to invest so much time and effort just to have sex with you.
a/n: my sweet 🦋 anon... i'm sorry it took me so long to post this. as soon as i saw it i started writing but it wasn't coming out like i think it should and i didn't want to give you something bad 😞 please forgive me 🙏 i hope you like this one too, it ended up being longer than i was planning. love u, please don't give up on me!
cw: smut, shy/inexperienced!reader, jeno big dick agenda, very slightly bulge kink, fingering, oral (m), unprotected penetrative sex (bcs i forgot to write the condom part sorryyy 🫣), praising, pet names.
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jeno never considered himself a patient person. he always got what he wanted when he wanted. and that's why you were driving him crazy.
at first, he enjoyed toying with you, finding it effortless to get under your skin. it was just a game to him, a way to pass the time by teasing and taunting. he loved pushing your buttons with even the slightest action, knowing how easily you would react.
he wasn't entirely sure why you acted the way you did around him. was it shyness or fear of people in general? perhaps a combination of both. regardless, he found your reactions incredibly endearing. whenever he looked at you, he couldn't help but smile at the way you fidgeted and stumbled over your words.
it was cute. he just knew he had to fuck you. he made it his personal goal.
he was aware that winning you over wouldn't be easy, and that he'd have to gain your trust and go through the whole song and dance. but he saw it as a thrilling challenge, and he was determined to make you his.
he surprisingly found it easy to become your friend. given your lonely nature, he didn't need to put in much effort. you didn't appear to have many friends, which made it simple for him to step in and fill that role.
what began as innocent gestures, like whispering sweet nothings in your ear or tenderly tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, quickly escalated into more intimate encounters.
his “accidental” touches or the casual placing of his hand on your thigh, how he enjoyed wrapping his arms around you from behind, his chest pressed against your back as his hands gently roamed your sides. he did all of this to get rise out of you, to see you get all flustered and embarrassed and it worked perfectly.
he knew that simply being a good friend wouldn't be enough to take you to bed with your legs all open for him, so he doubled down on his efforts. he had to be the best friend you ever had.
he became the person you could count on for anything — if something was troubling you, he'd be there to listen and provide comfort. you wanted a plushie from your favorite show? no problem, he would make sure to get it for you. feeling lonely and in need of companionship? all you had to do was call him, and he'd be right there for you.
all of it was part of his grand scheme to lower your defenses and draw you closer to him. and it worked little by little.
when you confessed that you had never kissed anyone before, his response was instant: "that's what friends are for." he gauged your reaction, noticing the way you nibbled on your lip and fidgeted with the hem of your skirt, all little habits that he had noticed in you a long time ago.
his words were merely to test the waters, to see how you would respond to his subtle advances. he was overjoyed when you finally agreed to his suggestion, after taking some time to consider (a good 5 minutes). he couldn't help but feel proud that he was the one who would get to kiss your innocent lips, a thought that thrilled him. this small victory fueled his confidence in the belief that winning you over wouldn't be hard.
it was fun to him, teaching you how to kiss for the first time and seeing your reaction to his touch. the moment he reached out to touch your face, you quickly recoiled, as if you had been burned. it just fueled his desire to go further and explore this nervous, inexperienced side of you.
"relax, baby," he spoke softly, your favorite term of endearment rolling off his tongue effortlessly. he gently took your hand in his, soothingly rubbing his thumbs over your skin in a reassuring manner. it was his way of calming you down, a small gesture that never failed to affect you.
as you tried to follow his words and relax, he cupped your face between his hands and leaned in closer. with a soothing tone, he instructed you to close your eyes. he was so close that you unconsciously held your breath, which made him chuckle. his breath ghosted over your skin as he spoke, his proximity to you causing your heart to flutter in your chest.
as his lips finally touched yours, a soft gasp escaped you and you nearly jolted. he started with just a gentle peck, giving you a chance to adjust to the sensation. your heart pounded wildly in your chest, the rapid rhythm so intense that you feared it might burst out of your chest at any moment. you were almost certain he could hear it, the sound of your heartbeats echoing in your ears and filling the silence between you.
his soft voice gently commanded, "open your mouth slightly, sweetheart," and you obeyed eagerly, parting your lips. a small hum escaped you as you felt the warm, wet touch of his tongue slipping into your mouth. the sudden sensation sent chills down your spine, surprising you in the most pleasurable way.
as you started moving your tongue against his, following the rhythm he set, he was the one who couldn't help but let out a pleased hum. his hand moved from your face to your hair, fingers gently grasping the locks and pulling you closer to him.
the feeling of your mouth against his, your inexperienced but eager tongue trying to keep up with his, was beyond what he imagined. the taste of you, so sweet and untainted, drove him to become more demanding, rougher, and you didn't seem to mind, responding to his intensity with a sense of abandon.
he carefully maneuvered you onto your back on the couch, crawling over you and bringing his body on top of yours. his hands began to explore your form, tracing every contour until they reached your thighs and gently caressed the soft skin. with a sly smile, he squeezed the supple flesh, grateful that you were wearing a skirt, making his plans even simpler.
tou were so absorbed in the way his mouth captured yours that it took awhile for you to notice his hand roaming further up your skirt. the feeling of his fingers slowly tracing your inner thigh sent shivers up your spine, igniting sparks of pleasure that made you almost gasp into his mouth.
you managed to pull away from the kiss, panting for air, and stopped his hand before it went any higher. "w-wait, jeno," you gasped, your voice breathless and filled with hesitation.
jeno's breath was shallow, his mouth moving to your neck as he inhaled your scent and began to place soft, gentle kisses there, making you left a soft sigh. he hummed against your skin, his voice still unsteady as he responded to you. "what is it, baby?" he murmured against your skin, his warm breath teasing your sensitive flesh.
“i-i don't—” your words were interrupted by a gasp as he sucked on your neck, his lips creating a pleasant suction that made your head spin. but as he continued to nibble and kiss your skin, you softly pleaded, "j-jeno, stop.”
jeno grudgingly pulled away from your neck, his eyes a mix of desire and annoyance as he looked at you. but you were too flustered to notice his expression, hastily hiding your face in your hands, unable to meet his gaze. your embarrassment was palpable, and the moment was suspended in a brief silence.
before he could utter another word, you hastily scrambled out from under him, mumbling a clumsy excuse before hastily retreating to your room. he sat there on the couch, a little bewildered, as he watched you disappear. the sound of your door closing echoed in the silence that followed, leaving him alone with his frustrated thoughts.
he ran his hand through his hair. of course he wouldn't get in your panties so quickly. he got a little carried away by the moment and forgot that he needed to take things very slowly with you.
he had assumed you would lock yourself in your room for a while longer, probably consumed by a million thoughts and doubts that he was all too familiar with at this point.
after a while, he stood up from the couch and approached your door, knocking softly on the wood. "i'll be waiting," he called out softly, and that was all he said.
he was already starting to turn away, but the sound of the door opening caught his attention. you emerged from behind the opening, looking at him timidly, and he was taken aback by your whispered request.
"can we... keep practicing? j-just the kissing…" you spoke in a small voice, your words barely audible but filled with trepidation and desire. he froze for a moment, surprised by the unexpected request, before a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.
“you don't have to ask twice, sweetheart.”
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in the days that followed, a new routine was established between you and him. every time you found yourselves together, whether at his place or yours, the hours would pass in a haze of lip and tongue, mouths moving against each other in a frenzy. by the end of each session, your lips would be swollen and sensitive to the touch, a reminder of the time spent indulging in such an activity.
but what truly fueled jeno's frustration was the fact that your interactions always seemed to stop at the same point. no matter how much he touched and caressed you, nothing ever went further than a few brief moments of physical contact.
he felt an intense sense of desperation growing within him, the unfulfilled desire weighing heavily on his mind. he longed to take things further, to explore more of you, but somehow he always found himself stuck in this endless cycle of heated yet ultimately unsatisfying make-out sessions.
he was already mentally bracing himself for the challenges ahead, but then you caught him off guard once more.
sitting on his lap, your tongues intertwined in a hungry dance, you suddenly did something unexpected. you began to subtly grind against his thigh, your movements and moans so natural it was as if you weren't fully aware of what you were doing.
the sensations were immediate, and he felt a twitch in his pants. the feeling of you riding his leg set his body trembling with desire. a low groan escaped him, his kiss growing more fierce as he tried to keep himself together in the face of your unintentional provocation. he could feel his arousal growing with each passing moment, and the thought of having you so close yet so out of reach was driving him insane.
jeno's grip on your waist became a little tighter as he pulled you down, pressing you against him more firmly. the thin fabric of your shorts did little to disguise the wetness building between your thighs, leaving a noticeable dampness on his pants.
your moans grew a little louder as you lost yourself in the sensations, and jeno reluctantly broke the kiss to look at you. he clutched your waist, stopping your movements and holding you firmly in place, drawing a whine from you.
your words escaped your lips involuntarily, a soft plea for more. "jeno, please," you murmured, desperation tinging your voice. he chuckled softly at the sound of your plea, his smirk growing wider. “please what, baby?" he whispered, his lips brushing gently against yours, barely making contact, teasing you with the lightest touch.
his question hung in the air, unanswered, leaving you floundering to articulate your desires. you felt a mixture of shyness and embarrassment, unable to vocalize what you truly wanted. so, your response was a soft whine as you hid your face in the crook of his neck. his chest vibrated with a low chuckle, his amusement evident at your inability to express yourself clearly.
“you want some relief here, sweetie?” his hand slid between your legs, his middle finger pressing against your clothed cunt, making you gasp at the sudden contact.
this time, you made no attempt to stop him, instead nodding silently in agreement. you buried yourself deeper into the safety of his neck, feeling embarrassment and need. you knew deep down that you were desperate for some form of release, and the realization only flustered you.
jeno, on the other hand, was practically bursting with excitement and joy, mentally launching fireworks and wanting to dance a victory lap around the house. he was finally close to getting the hardest fuck of his life — not exactly in the good way.
his voice was a soft whisper in your ear as he nibbled gently on your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. "we should do something about it, shouldn't we, pretty girl?" he murmured, his nose nuzzling tenderly against your ear. "will you let me help you again?" he asked, his breath warm against your skin.
your response was immediate, a desperate plea for his touch. "yes, please," you managed to stutter out, your voice tinged with a hint of need.
even though he just wanted to empty his balls, he knew he had to make you experience some of the sensations and induce you to want more.
jeno leaned against the bedhead, preparing himself for what was to come. his one hand began to trace gentle circles on your thigh, while the other continued to soothe you with soft caresses on your back. "okay, baby," he assured you. "just relax and let me take care of you, alright?”
jeno had become skillful in taking care of you, and his request for you to relax was met with an immediate submission from you. he wasted no time moving your pajamas shorts out of the way, efficiently tugging the fabric to the side.
due to your current position, where you were on his lap, with your chest pressed against his and your face still buried in his neck, jeno had limited visibility of you. he could feel your body against his, but he couldn't see much more than that. despite being mildly frustrated by the lack of visual access, he knew you wouldn't pull away anytime soon, even if he asked. you seemed too focused on hiding your flustered face against his skin.
even so, he could feel how soaked your panties were and that was enough for him right now. once again, jeno wasted no time in his actions, pulling your panties to the side with decisive motion. his digits pressed gently against your sensitive flesh, eliciting sigh from you. his fingers parted your folds, gently exploring your wetness with delicate movements. he took his time, savoring the moment, your soft sounds and how you were already squirming with just a few touches.
you gasped as he slipped a finger inside you. he started pumping slowly, he could feel how tight you were and he couldn't help but feel his cock stir inside his pants, his mind swirling with thoughts of what it would be like to be inside you.
"how does it feels, baby?" he coos, adding another finger to stretch you just enough, feeling how you clenched around his digits and moaned timidly into his neck. “g-good… very good,” was all you could mutter, your breath hitching as you felt him scissor and curl.
jeno hummed, a contented sound escaping him, as he used his free hand to gently push away the strands of hair that hung over your neck. he pressed his lips against your skin, gently kissing and nibbling at the sensitive flesh, feeling a shiver run through you.
jeno's fingers began to search inside you, seeking out the spot that would make you melt. when you trembled and a loud moan escaped you, his smirk widened. "found it," he chuckled, continuing to target that sweet spot with deliberate precision.
he added pressure with his palm against your clit, rubbing it softly but firmly enough to ignite intense sensations. he knew exactly how sensitive you were, and even this gentle touch was more than enough to leave you moaning and trembling.
jeno nuzzled your ear, his breath warm against your skin as he spoke soft words to you. "you sound so pretty, baby," he murmured, his hand never ceasing its movement as he felt your body clenching around him. "i know you're close already," he continued, increasing the speed of his movements. "just let it go, don't hold it back, okay?" he coaxed.
you didn't even realize how close you were, the sensations stirring in your body completely unexpected. there was a strange feeling in your stomach, your toes curling as you clung to him tighter. then, his words struck you like a command, and suddenly, a wave of pleasure washed over you. the new sensation was overwhelming, almost transporting you to another realm.
jeno absolutely loved the way you mewled his name in the midst of your climax. he relished in the sweet sounds you made, eagerly anticipating the chance to hear more and feel more of you. his desire was palpable as he continued to watch you come undone in his arms.
with your body quivering from the aftermath of your climax, you leaned against him, allowing your weight to fully rest on him. the tingles that coursed through you seemed to reach every inch of your skin, leaving you breathless. you panted slightly as you felt your body slowly returning to a state of stability.
jeno slowly withdrew his fingers, wiping them clean on your shorts. with a gentle tug, he drew your face away from his neck, allowing him to finally get a proper look at you.
your mind was still hazy from the intensity of your climax, and you barely registered his actions until you saw the smug expression on his face. the realization that you looked so utterly wrecked just from a little fingering made jeno silently contemplate how you would look when he pushed you further than just his fingers.
you were on the verge of speaking when he silenced you with a kiss, a kiss that you gladly returned. the touch of his hands slipping under your shirt sent a shiver down your spine, his fingers gently caressing your bare skin. you felt his touch drifting over the clasps of your bra, his movements deliberate and suggestive.
despite being consumed by the myriad of sensations he was evoking in you, you couldn't help but notice the way his hand tugged at the hem of your shirt, clearly signaling his intention to remove it. but as he began to lift the fabric, you instinctively halted his movements by placing your hands over his, preventing him from proceeding further. you pulled away from the kiss, gazing into his eyes a hint of hesitation.
“n-not yet, jeno,” you managed to stutter out, biting your lower lip as you averted your gaze from him. the thought of revealing yourself even partially in front of him sent a wave of fear and nervousness coursing through you. despite the intimate moment you had just shared, the idea of baring your body to him, even further, felt overwhelmingly nerve-wracking.
frustration and disappointment etched itself across jeno's features as he suppressed the urge to curse aloud. instead, he released a soft, frustrated breath, his forehead coming to rest against yours. he had been eagerly anticipating a night of finally fucking you senseless until you can't even remember your name, and your hesitation dampened that hope once again.
your soft-spoken words brought him back from his momentary disappointment. "but i..." you began, your voice tinged with coynes and a hint of determination. "i want to make you feel good too," you confessed, your eyes drifting down to his lap, where you couldn't help but notice the evidence of his arousal. there was curiosity and desire in your tone as you confessed your wish to return the favor. “j-just tell me what to do…”
a spark of something akin to admiration and appreciation flared up in jeno's eyes as he processed your words. out of all the things you had ever said, these words felt like music to his ears. a hopeful glimmer of satisfaction shone through, a realization that the night might not be a complete wash after all.
jeno chuckled affectionately, his voice carrying a hint of genuine appreciation as he spoke. "that's so nice of you, sweetie,” he murmured, gifting you a gentle peck on the lips which prompted a smile to bloom on your face. following his instructions, you carefully repositioned yourself, assuming a kneeling position between his legs, your eyes looking up at him expectantly.
a glimmer of greed flickered through Jeno's eyes as he took in the sight of you looking up at him. his hand cupped your face, his touch soft as he traced his fingers along your cheek. a subtle smile played at his lips as he issued a command, his voice dripping with desire. “you can start by taking off my clothes,” he murmured, his eyes locked on yours, hungry and full of heat.
you followed his directions without hesitation, slowly unbuttoning his pants and gently pulling them down, the sound of the fabric rubbing against his skin filling the room. as the fabric pooled around his ankle, your eyes couldn't help but drift towards his impressive package, your breath catching in your throat at the sight.
you saw a darker spot on the fabric of his boxes, damp with pre-cum, you wasted no time in removing the remaining piece, freeing his aching cock that stood proudly in front of your eyes, eliciting a soft sigh of relief from him.
you continued to stare at his dick, blinking a few times as you processed the sight. he was big. too big.
jeno chuckled heartily at the sight of your eyes widening in surprised awe, his ego swelling with a touch of cocky confidence. he knew exactly what was running through your mind. "don't be shy, pretty girl," he teased, a sly smile playing on his lips. "you can touch it." he leaned back, resting his weight on his hands as he waited for you to make a move.
as calm and collected as he appeared to be, jeno was practically craving your touch. his muscles tensed under your gaze, and there was a hint of desperation in his eyes as he longed for your caress. however, he was determined to maintain a facade of coolness, masking his inner pleading with subtle smirks and sultry words.
as your delicate hands finally encircled him, a soft sigh escaped jeno's lips, his eyes closing for a moment as he savored the sensation. jis breath hitched, his teeth gently sinking into his lower lip in response to the pleasure coursung through him. his dark gaze was fixed on you, watching intently as you explored him with a look of curiosity and wonder in your eyes.
you started to stroke his cock slowly, the pre-cum acting enough as a lubricant, facilitating your movements. “just like that, sweetheart,” he said in low groans, his breath heavy.
yes, this. more. fast. please. he closed his eyes tight to savor the sensation. each sweet, slow movement of your hand pushed him closer to relief. and then... a new sensation joined the others. a delicate, refreshing affection, at the tip of his cock. almost like a breeze. you were licking it. rolling that pink, shy and naughty tongue around the head of his erection. kissing and tasting lightly. the feeling was intense. sublime. insufficient.
it took him by surprise how you effortlessly seemed to know what to do, and he found himself thoroughly enjoying it. his hands threaded through your hair, his fingers delving into the soft strands as he lavished his touch upon your head. in that moment, he found himself unable to hold back his words. his voice came out in a rough whisper, "put it all in your mouth.”
for a brief moment, a flicker of worry crossed jeno’s expression. he feared that his request might have intimidated you, that you may stand up from your position on the ground and refuse to continue. he was on the verge of pleading with you, nearly uttering a desperate “please,” but before he could voice his concern, you unexpectedly acquiesced to his command, enveloping the head of his cock in your wet, ecstatic heat.
you began hesitantly. which was understandable, since this was your first time. but you didn't need much skill. he throbbed with desire while you showed great enthusiasm, even though you had no experience. there was little you could have done — except bite him, perhaps — that wouldn't have been delicious.
you were more than good. it was fantastic. he found himself rocking his pelvis, trying to go deeper each time your sweet, juicy mouth descended on him.
a ragged moan escaped his lips as he spoke, his grip on your hair growing tighter as he moved his hips in a quicker, more insistent rhythm. “you are doing so well, baby. so, so, well,” his words came out in a deep, raspy tone.
the mounting tension between you had taken its toll on jeno, and he was acutely aware of the pleasure that had been denied to him for a considerable amount of time. it was a struggle to maintain control, and he found himself teetering on the edge of climax.
as you continued your ministrations, he swallowed hard, the air around him seemingly growing thinner. his body trembled under your touch, his breath escaping in ragged gasps as he felt his climax building up, on the verge of tipping into pure ecstasy.
and, before he could even warn you, he came in your mouth, holding your head in place, forcing you to take his entire load. he didn’t mean to do that, but it felt so good he didn’t want you to pull away at the best part.
as you pulled away, gasping for breath, jeno's grip on your hair loosened, his hands gently releasing their hold on you. his own chest heaved with effort, his breathing ragged and labored from the intense encounter. he gazed at you with eyes heavy with desire, drinking in the sight of your disheveled appearance and the thin line of his cum that traced the corner of your mouth. in that moment, his expression was one of pure contentment and satisfaction.
a ghost of a smirk played at the corners of jeno's lips, his voice lacking any trace of remorse. "i'm sorry, i should have warned you, baby," he said, his words carrying a hint of satisfaction rather than regret.
you glanced up at him, offering a timid smile as you assured him, "i-it's okay, it wasn't that bad,” he watched as you ran your tongue over your lips, innocently cleaning the remnants of his essence.
god, he thought, you're so sexy.
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from that point forward, not only had making out become a regular occurrence, but oral sex had become something you enthusiastically welcomed. jeno couldn't help but notice the change in you, how earnestly you seemed to embrace the act of pleasing him. it looked like you derived a sense of satisfaction from bringing him to such levels of ecstasy.
even though jeno was completely happy with the addition of a new activity to the menu, it still wasn't enough. don’t get him wrong, he loved getting a blowjob whenever either of you were in the mood, but what he really needed was to actual fuck you.
he found himself perplexed by your reluctance to take the next step. while he was fully aware of your penchant for shyness, he couldn't help but wonder why you hadn't given in yet.
considering the things you had already engaged in, he assumed that your comfort level would have already reached a point where you would be receptive to more.
the mounting impatience and desire finally got the better of him, and he decided that it was time to address the issue directly. he took a deep breath and gathered his thoughts before addressing you with a blunt question.
“baby, why don't you just let me fuck you?”
jeno caught you off guard, interrupting your casual routine as you were making your way to bed and using a towel to dry your hair. you momentarily froze, the towel suspended in mid-air as you turned to face him with widened eyes. “w-what? jeno…!” you stuttered as you hastily grabbed the towel, clutching it against your face in an attempt to conceal your flustered expression.
he couldn't help but roll his eyes, at your reaction, with a smirk on his lips and a chuckle in his voice, he reached out and pulled you closer to him, his arms encircling your waist and drawing you into his embrace. he settled his chin on your belly, gazing up at you with a curious expression and added with nonchalant tone, "i’m just curious, you know.”
with a single movement, jeno reached up and took the towel from your hands, tugging it away from your face to reveal your expression. his eyes scanned your face, taking in the adorable sight of you all bashful and shy.
"i-i..." your voice trailed off, your nervousness clearly evident. jeno's eyes remain fixed on you, waiting patiently for you to continue. sensing your hesitance, he encouraged you gently, his voice soft and soothing. "mmm, i'm listening," he urged, silently coaxing you to continue.
you averted his gaze, your voice barely above a whisper as you finally confessed. "i-it's just...you'll see me naked and all...," you admitted, the thought alone making your heart race with anxiety.
jeno's eyes widened momentarily as he processed your words, his expression alternating between disbelief and shock.
that was the reason? no fucking way.
"are you serious?" he asked, his voice filled with a touch of incredulity. you responded with an eager nod, still not looking at him, "i-i can't do that, you'll see everything!" your voice trembled slightly, the thought of being fully exposed in front of him clearly terrifying to you.
jeno couldn't believe what he was hearing. it seemed almost unbelievable that the reason you were hesitant to take the next step was solely because of the thought of being completely naked in front of him.
his facial expression softened as he tried to understand your perspective better. "baby, it's me, you know," he said, his voice gentle and reassuring. he reached out to cup your face, his touch tender. "you don't have to be embarrassed with me," he continued, his eyes searching yours.
"i...i know that," you stammered, feeling your heart fluttering in your chest at his touch and the soothing sound of his voice. despite knowing that he was someone you trusted deeply, the thought of being completely nude in front of him still felt overwhelming.
you tried to articulate your feelings, your words coming out in a shaky whisper. "but... it's just... i'm worried i won't look good enough for you," you confessed coyly.
great. you were insecure. he forgot that.
“that's just so stupid," he muttered, pulling you onto the bed with him and positioning you straddling his lap. his fingers gently cradled your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. "you know i love every single part of you, right?" he repeated, his tone tender and sincere. "even those i'm yet dying to see," he added with a smirk, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every contour. "you are just perfect.”
your eyes widened slightly at his words, his unwavering confidence in your beauty causing a flutter in your chest. insecurity still lingered, but the way he spoke with such certainty made your doubts waver.
your hands unconsciously found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as your breath hitched. "you...you really think that?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as your lips form a small pout.
jeno chuckled softly, his hands moving from your face to your hips, their grip firm but gentle as they held you in place on his lap. "i don't just think it, i know it," he replied, his eyes scanning your face as his thumbs began to trace soothing circles on your hipbones.
his voice dropped lower as his eyes held your gaze, “your body is incredible," he repeated, "i love every inch of it." his expression softened, and he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "and i would love even more if you just let me see more of you. you have nothing to be shy about, baby. let me show you just how much i appreciate every part of you.”
your heart skipped a beat, his words igniting a flutter of anticipation within you. despite your lingering insecurities, you couldn't deny the way his words made your stomach churn with excitement and nervousness, he sounded so inviting.
after a few moments of contemplation, your voice trembled as you finally gave in, your eyes meeting his.
"o-okay," you whispered, the word barely audible, as if spoken more to yourself than to him. taking a deep breath, you made the decision, your heart racing in your chest. “i-it's fine.”
as soon as the words left your mouth, granting him permission, Jeno's lips were on yours in a heartbeat, the kiss passionate and feverish. his hands didn't waste any time either, slipping under the fabric of your shirt to caress the soft skin of your back.
“that's it, sweetie,” he said against your lips. “i promise it will be worth it,” he pulled you closer, the intensity of his embrace and the hungry way his tongue sought yours sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.
jeno's impatient hands were soon tugging at the hem of your shirt, his movements eager and insistent as he lifted it over your head, revealing your bare upper body, clad only in a bra. his breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of your exposed skin, his eyes roaming over you, appreciating every inch. his hands continued to caress your skin, the feeling of flesh on flesh sending shivers down your spine.
his touch was gentle and deliberate, his fingers tracing soft lines along your collarbones, your arms, down your sides. he leaned forward, his lips pressing kisses along your neck and collarbones, nipping and nibbling at the sensitive skin there. "you are so beautiful, baby," he murmured against your skin. "i've been wanting to do this for so long.”
he continued to kiss and nibble at your neck and collarbones, his movements soft but insistent. as he trailed a path of kisses down your chest, his fingers traced the lace of your bra, tracing the edge of the fabric with the tip of his fingers.
his lips moved lower, his kisses growing more frantic as they reached your chest, his tongue tracing the contour of your cleavage as his hands continued to roam your body. his fingers trailed a path down your back to the clasp of your bra, his knuckles brushing against your skin as he fumbled to undo it.
jeno's fingers worked quickly to undo the clasp of your bra, his touch both impatient and skillful as he finally managed to free you from the confines of the undergarment. he pulled it away, revealing your bare chest to him, your tits jiggling slightly.
“fuck,” he exhaled a shaky breath, his eyes taking in the sight of your exposed flesh. "you're more beautiful than i ever imagined," he murmured, his voice filled with desire and awe.
as jeno continued to gaze at you, you couldn't help but feel a wave of shyness wash over you. your arms instinctively moved to cover your chest, attempting to shield yourself from his unabashed staring. embarrassed, you muttered, "s-stop looking at me like that.”
he reached out and gently pulled your arms away from your chest, exposing your bare skin again. “don’t be embarrassed,” he said, his voice soft and soothing. “you’re gorgeous. i could look at you all day.”
He leaned down, his hands trailing a path across your chest, his fingertips gently caressing your boobs. his touch was feather-light, almost reverent as he explored the contour of your flesh. he took his time, seemingly wanting to savor every moment of this encounter.
slowly, he lowered his head, his hand reaching out to cup one, his thumb brushed over your nipple, his fingers closing around your breast, squeezing gently as he drew your nipple into his mouth, sucking softly. he hummed contentedly, lost in the sensation, his lips working slowly, savoringly.
a soft gasp escaped your lips as jeno's tongue worked its magic, sending shivers down your spine. your body writhed beneath him, your fingers tangling in his locks, tugging at them softly.
feeling your body respond to his touch, he took the opportunity to lay you down on your back, gently coaxing you into the plush pillows. he never stopped his ministrations, he caught your nipple between his teeth, giving it a light bite and then sucking, his hands roaming over your body with a possessive touch, as if marking you as his own.
“god, you're so perfect," he whispered, he moved to your other tit, giving it the same attention. "don't hide yourself from me again.”
jeno's hands slid to the waistband of your shorts, his touch burning against your skin. he pulled them down, along with your panties, as you lifted your hips up to help him guide them down your thighs and off your body.
when you were finally bare before him, he couldn't help but take a moment from sucking your boobs to admire the sight of you laid out beneath him, open and vulnerable.
“look at how hot my pretty girl is,” he bite his lower lip, leaning closer to capture your lips in a rough kiss, his fingers making their way to between your thighs. he knew he needed to prepare you for the main event, to make sure you were ready for what he was dying to give you.
you were so sensitive that it was easy to get reactions from you, he didn't even need to finger you that much to make you come a few times, that, along a few praises on your ear while hitting your sweet spots, were enough to have you squirming under him.
jeno's breath was warm against your ear as he spoke, his words sending delightful shivers down your spine. "okay, sweetie," he whispered, his lips still pressed against the sensitive skin of your neck. "you're doing so well."
he could feel your quick breath and the sweat beginning to form on your forehead. his wrists were growing tired from his efforts, but he wasn't backing down. "i'll make you feel even better," he promised, his voice low and seductive.
he shifted his body, his hands working quickly to remove his clothes, discarding them carelessly on the floor beside the bed.
your eyes drank in the sight of jeno's body, taking in his toned muscles and the way his body glowed in the faint light of the room. your gaze fell on his cock standing proud and ready, and a wave of heat washed over you, making you instinctively press your legs together. he was so hot. it was unfair how good he looked.
“like what you see, pretty?” he asked with a smug smile. you weren't brave enough to say the words out loud, but you wanted him to know that you appreciated him too, so you only nodded fiercely, making him laugh and lean over you to press his lips against yours in a gentle kiss while positioning himself between your legs, his erection rubbing against your thigh.
jeno broke the kiss to look into your eyes, his gaze intense and serious. he gently cradled your chin in his hand as he spoke, his voice filled with concern and desire. "just listen to me for a moment, okay?" he said softly. "i need you to promise me that if it becomes too much, if it hurts in any way, you'll tell me to stop. can you do that for me, baby?”
his words hung in the air for a moment, the implications clear. you knew why he was saying that. the size of his cock was undoubtedly intimidating, and it was natural to feel a pang of fear. but your desire for him overpowered any reservations you might have had.
with a nod, you responded. "yes, jeno, i can," you gave him a small smile, "i’ll tell you if it's too much.” he studied your face for a moment, making sure you were sincere and not just saying it to please him. he could see the want in your eyes. the way you nodded your head and answered him firmly gave him the reassurance he needed.
“that’s my good girl,” he kissed your cheek, straightening his back and wrapping his hand around his cock, stroking it a few times before pressing it against your entrance, teasing you lightly by rubbing the tip up and down.
then, he slowly pushed his lenght inside you, as he advanced, you gasped and clutched the sheets, small whimpers of pain escaping your lips. you were lucky you were wet enough to ease the pain, his dick slid into you with ease, he really prepared you well.
jeno's expression mirrored pleasure, his eyes closing in ecstasy as he threw his head back and let out a silent moan. it was as if he had been waiting for this moment for an eternity, and the feeling of you enveloping him was like entering a state of nirvana.
he paused for a moment, his body trembling with pleasure and exertion, as he looked at you. he was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling as he tried to regain control of his breathing.
"are you doing okay, baby?" he asked, his voice hoarse and low, he wasn't even half way and you seemed to be struggling already.
he looked at your face, taking in the expression of pain and pleasure mingled on your features as your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes welled up with tears. despite the discomfort you were feeling, you reassured him. “y-yes, keep going," you managed to say through trembling lips, your voice shaky but determined. "i can take it, i promise.”
jeno couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for finding you so incredibly hot even in that moment. he leaned in closer, pressing his face against your neck, and sought out your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours. it was an attempt to provide some distraction from the pain, and his words were a soothing whisper against your skin.
"that's it, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and comforting. "you're doing so well. just a little more,” he continued to move his hips, causing you to gasp once more, and he couldn't help but moan at the feeling of you squeezing him. his grip on your hands tightened as he fought to maintain control of his own desire to simply fuck you hard.
and when he was finally fully inside you, a wave of relief washed over you, releasing a soft sigh from your lips, you never felt so full before.
he soon let go of your hand to straighten his back again, you were speared open by his cock and when he pressed the palm of his hand on your belly and you felt the bulge he made there, it was too much. neither of you were expecting you to cum right now, your voice crying out his name as your entire body tremble.
“fuck, baby, already?” he asked under his breath, a smile on his lips. again, that was so hot of you. he can't believe he made you come like that.
and that was enough for him. he pulled his hips back slowly, his cock almost all the way out, a brief moment of relief when your insides were empty again, which didn't take long when he pushed back into you hardly, his tip hitting your cervix, making you both moan loudly. you didn't even had time to recover from the most intense orgasm of your whole life.
“fuck,” he said almost breathless. “feel that, pretty girl?” his grip on your hips tightened enough to feel painful and leave bruises. “feel how deep i am?”
the room was filled with sounds of skin against skin as he increased his pace, thrusting even harder while voicing out a few praises to you, saying how well you take him, how good your pussy feel, how he wanted to fill you up with his cum.
he nipped and nibbled at the sensitive flesh, leaving behind a trail of kisses and light love bites as he continued to move in and out of you. your name spilled from his lips like a prayer, a plea, a mantra.
you had intended to speak, to ask him to slow down, but before you could utter a word, jeno sealed your lips with his own, effectively silencing your pleas. his kiss consumed you, capturing all your moans and protests.
he picked up the pace, his movements growing more urgent, more desperate as he feel himself getting closer to his climax. jeno's voice was a low, seductive whisper, his breath hot against your neck. "gonna fill you up, pretty," he murmured, his teeth sinking into your flesh. "you're gonna take every single drop," he whispered fiercely, nibbling at your neck once more as he continued to move, his thrusts growing more insistent.
his hand went to your clit, wanting to make you cum once again, this time right with him. he was close to his limit and he knew he was overstimulating you, then it wouldn't be so difficult. within moments, jeno felt his body become tense and his thrusts more erratic, his movements stuttering even more as he felt you tighten around him.
it didn't take long for you both to cum and you feet him fill you with his hot seed, both moaning loudly. jeno gave a few more thrusts to make sure you were going to take everything he had to give you before pulling out of you.
jeno's body collapsed onto yours, both of you panting and struggling to catch your breath in the aftermath of your climax. the room was filled exclusively with the sounds of your labored breathing.
you could feel the hotness of his skin against yours, his heartbeat racing against your chest as he tried to regain some control over his own breathing. his weight pressed you into the mattress, his body limp and sated.
he buried his face against your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck. his grip on you loosened, his arms coming to rest by your sides as he lay on top of you, completely spent.
after a few moments of comfortable silence, jeno rolled off you and settled onto his back beside you. he broke the silence, his voice gentle, "how are you feeling, baby?" he asked, turning his head to look at you. he noticed the tired yet content smile on your face.
“blissful,” you answered with a light giggle, making him smile back at you.
good. he was going to focus on that now instead of thinking about how stupid he was for cumming inside you on the first fuck and how this could be a big problem in the future.
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melanchoire ¡ 2 months ago
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Been listening to I can see you by Taylor swift so I got an idea of wonyoung x idol! Reader where in front of cam they act so professional and elegant, fans even compare them on who's the real it girl and even see them as rivals but they don't know behind cam and close doors those two are freaky with each other
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being part of a fourth generation group is a difficult job because you’re constantly facing harsh public and criticism from fans of other groups. sure, competition and rivalry between fans and companies was always present in the music world, but sometimes it was so exhausting even if you were already used to it!
rumors were the worst thing that could happen. you know, people assuming things based on theories or things they pulled out of their asses, the usual stuff! 🥰
it especially pissed you off when people outside the band would create rumours or assumptions about the relationships between your band and other artists. for example, the public said that there was some “enmity” between your group and IVE just because there was “evidence” that there was tension present and they assured that surely something that the public does not know happened behind the scenes.
a couple of times during your group’s promotion week and theirs coincided, which led to them recording a small video for tiktok or having a small interaction when one of the members of the opposing group was the MC and interviewed the group on the music show, and the interaction was completely lovely! your members were charming and the IVE girls were quite friendly and pretty 💞
but of course, people have to make sense of it! so what better than to talk about the “rivalry” between the two most popular members and with the most malicious rumors possible? 🥰
you and wonyoung were the exception. wonyoung had already said a long time ago that she didn’t have any idol friends in the industry, and you were content with just having your members and the occasional artist as close acquaintances, nut the public said that you two had a similar answer because it was probably a hint for the other, of course! 😍
and the interactions were a bit awkward… maybe when your group passed by wonyoung’s group, the IVE girls bowed as a greeting, but wonyoung is always accused of ignoring your group and pretending she didn’t see them. lr maybe you were the villain here, accused of giving a fake smile to girls and rolling your eyes as soon as you turned your back on them
but people didn’t know that secretly, you two were much more than close! it started with the news that you both would be attending paris fashion week, wonyoung representing miu miu and you representing the corresponding brand that you were an ambassador for. the fight over who would get most of the attention was to be expected, you two being the idols who always top the brand reputation were a threat to other idols, and you two would be even more so now that you were together!
and when the photo of you two sitting together was posted… the cherry on the cake! honestly, wonyoung had a big and genuine big smile unlike the subtle and soft smile she usually used in photos, and you looked so happy and comfortable next to her that it looked like a cute and adorable photo between two pretty girls 😭💕 snd of course, on the part of Internet users it was seen as a forced interaction to calm public speculation…
little did the others know that upon arriving at the hotel room, wonyoung practically ripped your clothes off and threw herself at you on the bed, fucking you like she always does every night 🥰
“do you think your fans would like to know that the same one they call a bad bitch is the one who fucks their beloved idol?” wonyoung would ask you in a teasing tone as her fingers sink deep into your pussy up to her knuckles and pump in and out of you in a way that takes your breath away completely 🥴
wonyoung doesn’t care about criticism at all! she finds it so funny that people compare her or criticize her to her dear “enemy” when every day she is the one who gets home and can kiss her and fuck her 💕 she loves to tease you about it, sometimes bringing up the rivalry when she is fucking you, saying that she would love to see the faces of fans when they see two supposed enemies secretly fucking every chance they get. sometimes taking photos when you’re under her with the thought in mind that if one day she gets fed up with the bad comments, maybe her way of silencing criticism is to post a photo of her fucking you on her instagram account, making sure everyone knows the great friendship you two have even though the public doesn’t see it possible 😉
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tarotbyjam24 ¡ 3 months ago
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Pick a pile :Describing you through poems
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Likes , reblogs and feedbacks are very much appreciated 💗
Disclaimer: this is general reading . It may or may not resonate . If reading doesn't resonate let it fly and choose another pile or simply there were no messages for you through this reading 😊 Take the reading lightly as nothing's set in stone until you believe so 🕊️
Thankyou for stopping by let's dive in ☄️ Choose the pile you feel most drawn to 🧸
Masterlist \ pick a piles feedbacks piggy bank
If you like my work you can now tip me on kofi too ,leave 🖤
I also offer paid readings you can book one as it'll help me a lot and don't forget to check the free readings offer ✨
I'd love to hear your thoughts on this reading <33
Pile 1 pile 2 pile 3
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Pile एक
A WALK
A meadow smiling in the sun,
Cows knee cleep in the stream, An elm tree waving in the wind, A silvery birch's gleam, A long white road, a rustic bridge, A brooklet gliding through, And with the sunlight on Your hair, Coming toward me-You.
DEATH
By Clarence E. Flynn
WHY do you fear me? I am your friend.
I but guide trav'lers Rounding the bend-Lead them to freedom From time and age, Help them start writing On a new page....
Seek for me never, Keep your course true-When I am needed In come to you, Then I will show you Roads without end-Why do you fear me? I am your friend.
Pile दो
i write when
i write when my heart gets too heavy to hold i write about my scars new and old. i write when i have a lot to share, but to hear it out, no one has time to spare. i write when i feel as lonely as one could be, when not tears, but the well dressed smile is what one could see.
i write when thoughts in my
mind begin to sink.
i write to share whatever i think.
i write, not with thr desire of being known, but to know the voice within my soul.
~bhoomika
I Sit Beside The Fire and Think by JRR Tolkien
I sit beside the fire and think Of all that I have seen Of meadow flowers and butterflies In summers that have been
Of yellow leaves and gossamer In autumns that there were With morning mist and silver sun And wind upon my hair
I sit beside the fire and think Of how the world will be When winter comes without a spring That I shall ever see
For still there are so many things That I have never seen In every wood in every spring There is a different green
I sit beside the fire and think Of people long ago And people that will see a world That I shall never know
But all the while I sit and think Of times there were before I listen for returning feet And voices at the door
Pile तीन
Beauty
I like simple pleasures, Like wet hair & Clean sheets.. Pomegranate sourness, & the sweetness of ripe peach..
I like contradictions, Like rainbows after rain.. The glittering eyes of happiness, after days of pain..
A cup of hot tea, during a storm.. Living wildly and out of the norm.. I like good hearts, good art, the warmth of the sun.. The days you gave your self power, When you had none..
I like solitude, serenity, The thoughts in my mind.. And how in every tragic thing, Beauty I can find..
-Alethea Spark
Each of us are given a white canvas Some may be smaller than others. But the fact remains that it is pure, With not a single drop of colour.
As the days go by, the amount of strokes grow, With different colours and shapes. Some may be sharp and jagged And others smooth and clean.
You cant erase it or start over, But you can always cover it with a better strokes. You may even give up and want to stop at times, But you keep trying so desperately
And in the end, you can step back and look at what you have created And see that it was beautiful all along.
A masterpiece painted by you.
- C.
I hope you liked the reading . Thank you so much for letting me read for you . Wishing you best ahead . 🎀Bless you and have a nice day🌸🐰
Loads of love , jam ✨
Exchanges : open , collabs for paps : open
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newtthetranswriter ¡ 10 months ago
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Hello !
Can we have some hc for Natsu , Gray , Luxus & Gajeel reuniting with their s/o after the 7y they were « stuck «  in Tenrou island ? Their s/o stayed at the guild so they still think they are dead . FT has such good angst material I wish they used it more 😞 they talked about the 7y gap only for 5 min like it didn’t deserve an entire episode about it .
A/n: Thank you for the request. I just gotta say I completely agree that they should have talked about the gap more, like a lot can happen in seven years, and they're just like 'wow seven years past, here's the like three major things that happened while we thought y'all were dead, now get back to work'. Anyways, sorry it took so long to get this out. I hope you enjoy and remember to hydrate or diedrate.
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General Background:
Hearing that the entirety of Tenrou Island had disappeared during the S-class trails broke your heart
And as much as it pains you to admit it, you were probably the first member of Fairy Tail to accept that the wizards on Tenrou had died
So when Blue Pegasus showed up saying that there was evidence to suggest that Tenrou Island was still out there, you refused to believe them
You tried to reason that is had been seven years, if the Tenrou team had survived they would have made it back by now, not to mention every trip out to look for them there was no sign of the island at all
Of course the Remaining members of Fairy Tail still held on to hope that their friends where out there somewhere, so a small group left to try and find them once again
Still not wanting to get your hopes up, you decided it was best to stay at the guild and wait for their return so you can comfort them when they show up empty handed
You had been focused on protecting Romeo from Twilight Ogre, and failed to notice the mass of Magic energy that approached the guild Hall.
So when the man holding the hammer was sent flying across the room, you were just as much shock as the rest of the guild
After the new presence beat the crap out of the rival guild members and the dust settled, you couldn't believe your eyes
Standing in the door to the Fairy Tail Guild hall was none other than the group that had disappeared seven years ago
Natsu:
Seeing the pink haired mage you had spent the last seven years mourning, standing right in front of you stole your breath away
He looked exactly the same as he did when he left for the trials, how could that be possible
After they explained what happened and everyone began talking about some of the major changes that had happened while they were gone, Natsu came over to talk to you
He thought he would be greeted by a hug and some words of how much you missed him, maybe even some happy tears, but as soon as he made eye contact you broke down into full on sobs
He immediately wrapped you in hug pulling you close and rubbing your back, whispering gentle words about how he's there for you
Being back in his arms and taking in his scent just caused the tears to fall harder, but after a few moments you finally calmed down pulling back looking him in the eyes again
He waited for you to make the next move, and when you started talking about you were sorry for not believing in him and how you should have been there when they found him, he was stunned
Being completely taken aback by that response he pulls you close again, assuring you that he's not mad about you not being there and how he can't blame you for thinking he died after all it had been seven years
Once he had gotten you to calm down again he asks if you want to go for a walk and tell him about what has changed for you while he was gone
He'd listen to every detail, how you help search endlessly for them but after a while you gave up hope, how you still lived in the shack that you shared with him and Happy because you couldn't bring yourself to part from it
He listened to how you tried once or twice to go out with someone new but every time it fell through because no matter how many times you told yourself he was gone you couldn't get over him
Natsu just listened, he knew what it was like to have someone you love suddenly disappear so he didn't blame you for any of it
He just wanted too be there for you as handled this new wave of emotions and he wanted to assure you that he would be there not matter what
Gray:
Seeing Gray standing in the guild hall once again brought tears to your eyes
Ignoring as everyone explained what had happened, you were brought back to every night you spent crying yourself to sleep after you accepted that he was dead
You stood there tears streaming down your face as you relived every memory you had with the Ice Make wizard
Once he noticed you standing off to the side with tears falling, he rushed to your side
Hearing Gray ask if you were ok snapped you out of your thoughts, reaching out placing a hand on his face you couldn't stop your self from asking if he was really there
He would just chuckle softly and assure you that he was in fact really there
Deciding that you weren't dreaming or hallucinating, you pulled him in to a tight hug, soaking his shirt in fresh wave of tears as you berried your face in his shoulder
He just let you cry as he held you close knowing that it was shock to have someone that was supposed to be dead show up again
Once you stop crying Gray would suggest the two of you go somewhere to talk
He'd listen as you told him about the past seven years, squeezing your hand any time you looked like you were about to break down again reassuring you that he was there for you know
If you even tried to blame yourself for believing he was dead or not going when the rest went to see if they were really out there, he would make you look him in the eyes as he told you that it was in no way your fault
He would make sure that you knew he would never blame you for thinking he had died, and that he would spend everyday of his life making up for the seven years of hell he put you through, if you would let him of course
Laxus:
He wouldn't wait a second after making his appearance in guild hall to find you
After all his only other friends had all been on Tenrou so there was only one person he need to catch up with
Seeing his giant frame make it's way towards you left you speechless, after all this time he was finally back and he looked the same as when he left
Not giving him a chance to speak, you wrapped him in hug expressing how much you missed him
He wasn't surprised when a damp patch started to form on his chest where your head rested
He let you cry it out, rubbing your back so you knew he was really there
Laxus wouldn't even care about the strange looks the rest of the guild was giving him, all he cared about was making sure you were okay
After you calmed down and spent a small amount of time welcoming the rest of the Tenrou Team back you found yourself going for walk with Laxus
You apologized for not being there when the rest found them, after all you didn't know he had gone out to Tenrou and thought he just stopped visiting you
He assured you that you didn't need to apologize for anything, he then apologized for not telling you he was going to Tenrou and for making you think he just abandoned you
He also promised to do whatever it took to make up for everything
Gajeel:
It took Panther Lily pushing him in your direction for Gajeel to notice you had been staring at him since the moment they walked back into the guild
Realizing you hadn't taken your eyes of him, he timidly approached and apologized for leaving you for seven years
He's not the best with words or emotions so he is startled when you pull him into a bone crushing hug followed by tears soaking his shoulder
He'd pat your back trying to get you to calm down, saying that you're going to ruin his bandages, secretly he's just happy you were there
After you calm down he lets you vent about how much you missed and how sorry you were for losing hope
Again not the best with words so he'd probably mumble about it not being your fault
Seeing that the reunion wasn't going super smoothly, Panther Lily would probably show up and assure you that while Gajeel is shit with words, he really is happy to see you
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(dividers by cafekitsune)
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fallen-w1ngs ¡ 4 months ago
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'' FIRE AND WINGS DON'T MIX ,,
|| pairing: dabi x gn!reader x hawks / touya todoroki x gn!reader x keigo takami
|| warnings: established relationship, sfw headcanons, i go between "dabi" and "touya" a lot, sorry :(
|| btw, dabi is in rehab cause i want him to be, also he ends up as a pro hero in the end
|| word count: 2.0k
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|| You, Keigo and Dabi and been dating for a few months by now. Let's just say... Endeavor's not the happiest about it. Neither are your own parents. Is it cause they hate polyamorous people? No. Is it cause they're generally homophobic? No. It's cause Dabi's a damned criminal (your family) and that Hawks is annoying as hell (Endeavors reasoning).
|| Do any of ya'll listen? Hell no. Now onto the headcanons.
|| You, Dabi and Keigo have your own places. Dabi lives with Endeavor (unwillingly) as you live in your own smaller apartment as Keigo lives in his damned penthouse. It's safe to say, when the three of you hangout you stay at Keigo's place. It's bigger, he has nicer things, and no one else lives with him. Safe to say you and Dabi even have your own towels, some clothes and toothbrushes there. It's like you live there 2/3rds of the time. Only reason you don't move out is cause you guys only started dating a few months ago.
|| PDA? Non existant, at least with you and Dabi. Dabi generally doesn't like PDA, is it for shame reasons? No, he just doesn't like it. He'd rather keep his scary, mysterious facade up in public, and you just get embarrassed easily. The most you two do is a peck on the cheek or holding hands, that's it.
|| With Keigo or all three of you on the other hand, oh PDA is a must have. Keigo loves holding both of your guys' hands, whether he's alone with Dabi or if he's alone with you or if all three of you are out. He loves giving kisses, holding hands, holding your waists. Now if you or Dabi hold onto him, he's SWOONING.
|| Jealousy? Only at some scenarios. And it's only for petty things. Let's say all three of you are at Keigo's place, if one of you guys are only showing attention to one, oh jeez. Dabi makes a whole fuss, he pretends he doesn't even wanna be there. Says shit like "No, don't even touch me fuck you" then reaches out to cuddle both of you. If Keigo's feeling left out he'll puff his wings out and brush his feathers against you two. Sending them in a flurry and you find yourself in a pile of his feathers as you both give him small kisses. However you react is your own choice, but whatever you do they both end up kissing your face all over and you rest your head on Keigo's chest and hold Dabi's hands.
|| However, if we're talking there's someone hitting on one of you guys.. Oh it's interesting. If someone's hitting on Keigo, it made sense. He was a pro hero, number two at that, and absolutely GORGEOUS. You and Touya had a protocol for this. As Keigo would turn the person down, you'd snake your arm around his waist and rest your head on his shoulder as Touya wrapped his arms around Keigo's neck and rested his head on the other shoulder. Both of you having smug smiles. If Touya's the one getting hit on, oh boy. If Touya hadn't already scared the person off himself, again there was a protocol to this. Keigo would go over first, putting his head on Touya's shoulder while you held his hands and kissed his knuckles softly, safe to say the person was scared off. Lastly, if you were hit on... Touya might just kill the person /j nah nah, he reformed... Touya would wrap his arm around your shoulders as Keigo wrapped his arm around your waist. Both absolutely GLARING at the person hitting on you. Scary dog privilege. Touya's the more.. Jealous one in the three of you? Like, would definitely ask a bunch of questions to you and Keigo like "Who're you going out with?" "Where are you going?" "You better be back soon."
|| In the winter, oh you know you and Keigo take advantage of Dabi's quirk. He can warm up his body (at least in my mind) without actually setting on fire. So, after a long cold day on patrol for Keigo and a long day at work for you, you both snuggle up against Dabi, wrapping your limbs against his body, getting as much warmth as you can as Keigo drapes his wings across all of you. Is Dabi absolutely steaming and wishing you'd both get off him? Yeah, he's sweating balls, but you two just ignore it.
|| One of the best dates you all went on? When Mr. Billionaire Hero rented out the whole aquarium to have a date with you and Touya. The only people there being the workers, which was maybe 4 or 5 people at MOST. It was peaceful, you were geeking out over the smallest fish to the biggest shark, while Touya admired the water, it was also pretty chilly in the aquarium. Not to the point you had to have layers, but it was nice and cool, he appreciated it. Then there was Keigo, being head over heels for both you and Touya. He just kept his eyes on both of you, of course he was listening to whatever you were rambling about but.. What can he say? His partners were just to pretty not to stare at.
|| Arguments? You three have had arguments before. Of course, all of them ended in hugs, kisses, apologies and make up dates, but there were a lot of times that you and Touya went to sleep with just each other in Keigo's apartment because he was working. Another argument starter was that there were a lot of times where you and Keigo had to deal with Touya's pissy mood without him telling you guys what's wrong, or deal with him ghosting you both because he's shit at communication. Biggest problem with Keigo was that he was to much of a workaholic and would bail on date nights or sleepovers because he was to busy. Biggest problem with Touya was that he was terrible with communication, he'd never say his problems because he saw it as weakness. You three get through it, of course, but it took a lot of work.
|| Who cooks? You. Keigo and Touya can't cook for shit. If you can't cook either, you're all fucked. Keigo can't cook because the commission never taught him to, and Touya was never taught either, his mom always cooked or he stole something after his "death." One time you came over to Keigo's penthouse to have a date night with the two of them, just staying in though, but what did you find? The fire alarm going off, black smoke all around the halls, and screaming. You thought they started to fight like villain and hero again, but nope. They were trying to cook. Touya tried to cook the stuff on his body because "it'd be faster" and "we wouldn't have to use electricity" and dumbass Keigo agreed to it. You helped clean up the mess and just decided to order in. That was the last time you'd ever let them try to cook.
|| Gifts? Keigo buys the most gifts for you and Touya. He's the richest, so it made sense. A lot of gifts Touya gave were home made shit or something he stole. You found it endearing, Keigo found it terrible and made him give it back. He is NOT losing one of his partners for stealing a 15$ plushie. Keigo's gifts were extravagant, of course. He'd buy you and Touya the most expensive jewelry, especially piercing jewelry for Touya since he knows he has like over 10 piercings. Keigo HAS planned a surprise vacation trip to some sort of private island for the three of you to have a weekend to relax. It was welcomed with open arms, it was just... A lot. You two didn't complain though. Your pretty boy boyfriend pampering both of you? Oh fuck yes.
|| How you get along with their friends? You get along with Keigo's friends pretty well! His friends being Mirko, Tokoyami and Endeavor... He's not as social as he seems. You and Mirko HAVE hungout together before, she's really funny and a little loud but she's fun to be around. You've met Tokoyami on multiple occasions and Keigo acts as if he's his big brother/uncle. It's so funny. Tokoyami's not the biggest fan of Touya but he's warmed up to him. Baby steps, baby steps. (They've shit talked, lovingly, about Keigo before.)... You don't like Endeavor. He's big, he's scary, and he always seems grumpy and after hearing Touya's past, you're so confused how Keigo could still hang around him normally. I mean, Touya lived with him.. And he seemed to be getting better and making up for what happened. But still.
|| With Touya's friends, aka The League of Villains.. You were scared when you first met them. Safe to say you're closest with Compress since he seemed the most chill. Toga did say she wanted to stab you, which was fun. Touya explained that's just her way of saying she liked you, and you were like "cool okay, still gonna stay away from her." You have talked to Spinner before, he was chill, surprisingly. Talking to Shigaraki was... A lot. You were scared to even be 5 feet next to him. Twice was very fun to be around! You liked Twice a lot and he seemed to like you... And for continuity sake let's say this is like.. After the Overhaul shit. So none of them were pissed at Keigo, thankfully. Honestly, Keigo's chill with everyone of the League members, a little less with Shigaraki, but it's whatever. He's closest with Twice. (kill me)
|| Do you guys ever move in together? Yes! You do. At least around a year or a year and a half of dating. You and Touya move into Keigo's big ass penthouse for obvious reasons. It was an easy "yeah sure" on all of your parts. It was already like you all lived together there since you and Touya had stuff in his apartment, so it was like extremely easy to move in and adjust.
|| Pet names? Yeah, you guys have pet names for each other. You call Keigo and Touya; "Babe" "Dear" "Love" or just their names shortened to like "Kei" or "To." You have tried calling Touya "Toto" and Keigo laughed at that so hard, calling him the dog from Wizard of Oz. Keigo would call you and Touya the stupidest shit EVER. Stuff like bird-like nicknames as a joke a lot, then it stuck. But actual pet names he'd call you guys "Dove" "Love" "Sweetness" "Sweets" or shortened versions of your guys' names. Has called Touya "Toto" after you did and finds it equally as hilarious. Lastly Touya, he doesn't do much pet names, honestly he finds them cringe. But the ones he actually does is "Doll" "Sweetheart" "Babe" and those are the ONLY ones. Anything more he's like that's bullshit. But what's weird about Touya is that he barely calls you and Keigo your actual names, or even shortened versions of your names, always those pet names. You two don't complain.
|| Media? Keigo makes sure to show both you and Touya off as much as he can. Touya's already a pretty (in)famous person so he didn't care, plus it's not like he did much. Especially if it was during his rehab. After rehab he ended up working as an underground hero since that was the only thing he really saw himself doing. There is no way he'd be some normal citizen who couldn't use his quirk everyday, like no. Through the Hero Safety Commission, he was shown off as a "second chance." For the public to believe in redemption and seeing the best in people. Keigo didn't exactly like that the Commission was using Touya like this, but Touya literally gave zero shits, so it was whatever. So now, you have two pro hero boyfriends. If you worked remotely or at home, you were more than okay with being in the media, but if your job was more open to the public you'd try your best not to be apart of the media. If you for some reason were already a famous or public figure, you were a-okay with having your relationship public.
|| You all have matching profiles on all your socials. You three are the cringey ass throuple that everyone envies or hates.
|| All in all, your relationship is wonderful! You love your boys and your boys love you!
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|| oml i love dabihawks x reader
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pia-nor481 ¡ 11 months ago
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Backpack
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Oscar Piastri x reader SMUT
1.5K words
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“Come on, you'll love it." Oscar exclaimed, looking back at her with a unusually wide smile, eagerness showing. "I don't know... It's a bit scary." That's not her way of rejecting, but more a desire for reassurance. "Love, listen, I'm a professional, but I'll go slow, just so you're comfortable." He practically whispered, hand resting on her arm. "It's still scary, I trust you, I promise. But so many people have a licence when they shouldn't." She was right, anytime Oscar was driving his car the only commentary would be his complaints. "Idiot in her fucking white Range," or "I didn't know Peugeots don't come with indicators anymore." but her personal favourite was "You and your fucking Renault." On the race track Oscar was usually sangfroid, but when his precious girlfriend in the car, it was easy to vex him. "I'll keep  you safe baby." She wanted to see him happy, and if this would, then she would be willing. "Okay, but you have to teach me." His hands covered her waist quickly, pulling her in tightly. 
What Oscar didn't tell her was how prepared he was for this, he'd already brought a helmet and some gloves, the only decent ones he could get were alpine, much to his distaste. They made way to the garage quickly, Oscar's hand tight on her waist, keeping her secure. "I will admit, its a nice bike." His excitement was clear, but her nerves continued. "So there are a few things you need to know, before we actually get on. It's mostly hand signals as I wont be able to hear your voice well while we are riding. When we turn corners you have to lean a little bit so we don't throw off the balance, so I'll tap you right leg if you to lean slightly, okay?" She nodded slowly, taking in his voice while trying to ease her nerves. "Because I'm the one driving I don't have to signal you as much, but I'll probably grab you, pull you closer...So I want you to tap my leg twice if you want me to slow down, That's the main one." She was looking between him and the bike every few words, hands becoming slightly shaky. "I want you to 'hit' me with your knuckles twice if you see either a BMW or a Range rover, hate those drivers." She giggled at his statement, voice dropping with annoyance. "Then if you see the police, or if you notice someone else do the signal, tap the top of my helmet twice. The bike is completely legal but sometimes the police are annoying, so wait for me to get off first okay." There was so much to take in but she was more than willing to learn for him. Oscar pointed to different parts of the bike, ensuring she was well informed. "Make sure you don't move your feet from here."
"Do you still want to do this?" He asked sweetly. One thing she loved about Oscar was how caring he was, he would always take her into consideration, until the last second. "Yes, I promise." A small smile adorned he face as she spoke. Oscar walked away slowly, to corner of the room. "Come here." He beckoned her over, she met him almost immediately. "Let's sort your hair first...It might actually be best to use a balaclava." He helped the best he could, despite his inexperience with hair in general. "When did you get this?" She asked, curious as to how long he's been planning on this. "A few weeks ago." He was sheepish in his answer, pink painting his face. "You're so cute." She giggled, slipping the gloves on, Oscar shook his head at the comment, deciding on when he should get her back for the statement. He pulled the helmet over her head and made sure it was secure, before turning around and dropping to his knees. She tilted her head slightly before realising he wanted her to climb onto his back. His hands were resting on her thighs as he walked back towards the bike. Oscar swung one leg over before sitting down, placing her behind him. She felt his hands trail down her legs, until he was confident she was positioned correctly. "Still sure?" He asked before pulling his helmet on. "Yes." She practically shouted. Oscar laughed at her enthusiasm, he of course could still hear, but it was better to make sure communication was as clear as possible. 
His hands left her thighs after a soft squeeze, he turned the keys and let the engine run for a while, letting her become accustom to the feeling of the bike. "Ready, Love?" He spoke looking back slightly, she nodded with a small yes and hugged Oscar's waist as tight as possible. 
Soon they made it to a quite road, Oscar was as calm and collected as ever, he could feel her loosening her grip slightly, still secure but she relaxed slightly. The feeling of being free enveloped her, she could see why so many people love riding; the breeze against her and the blur of objects in her peripheral vison. She was at ease. 
After a while, and the scare of filtering, they reached a red light. "You okay, Baby?" He asked, hands sliding up her thighs once again. "Yes." She shouted back, helmet resting against his back. A thought crossed her mind so she let her hands slide from his waist, down to his lower abs. She waited for Oscar to say something, perhaps tell her off, but no. Oscars hands squeezed the plush of her thighs once again. Soon her hands reached his quickly hardening cock, pressing down lightly and squeezing, excited to hear his voice. "Love?" Oscar gasped, words muffled by the helmet. Her hand ran up and down slowly, teasing the best she could with him fully clothed. Oscar looked up as he heard the sound of a horn and quickly realised the light was now green. His hands pulled her arms around his middle before he set off rather quick. 
Oscar enjoyed the feeling of her around him it was worrying that she was all he could think about at the moment. He shook his head slightly and focused on the roads, more specifically the road signs. The Australian was keen on finding a more secluded area. 
It took her a moment to acknowledge that he tapped her left thigh, but she slowly leaned with him and the bike as he turned into what looked like a forest. She could feel the bounce of the bike decrease slightly as Oscar slowed pulling to the edge of the road. Once fully stopped he aided her movements so both her feet were off the ground; one hand was around her waist for support and the other pulling her legs in the right direction. As she slipped the helmet and balaclava off she noticed Oscar was leaning against the side of the bike, helmet still on.  
"You can't even wait one hour to get you're hands on me, it's unreal," He laughed, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down slightly. "Come on then, since you're so desperate. One important fact about Oscar is how sweet he is, never once was he condescending, even now out in public taking his cock out just so his pretty girlfriend could suck him off. Her knees made contact with the ground swiftly. Her tongue ran up the underside of him, slow, before taking just the tip into her mouth. She sucked and kissed lightly, making sure to tease the slit. "Fuck Love, don't tease me, not now." he rushed out, hands making way to the top her her head, guiding her mouth to take him further. "That's it, so good to me." His excitement elevated as she began to suck harder, finally bobbing her head at a good pace. Once hand covered the base of his cock while the other gripped his thigh tight, needing the support. She desperately needed a breath and pulled away, letting her hands stroke him a few times, slow with a lose grip. "Ah, please Love." He groaned, head falling back slightly. She took his whole cock, tip reaching the back of her throat. She gagged around him but continued as she felt his cock twitch slightly. "Fuck Love, so close, please. She bobbed her head faster and almost immediately felt his cum running down her throat. 
"Fuck, you're too good to me." He said with haste, pulling her body up from the ground and against his, head falling to her shoulders. "I love you Oscar." She whispered, questioning if he can even hear her. "I love you Darling."
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I hope everyone is okay and I’m sorry this took so long. This is 🏎️ from the poll that I did like 3 months ago. Plus I struggled with the actual writing since it’s been so long.
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