#they are so funny and so mean to each other!!
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the warm water incases the two of you, his chest to your back. just a few minutes earlier, you came home completely stressed & angry from work, your manager being impossibly more unbearable than yesterday. matt has learned how to calm you down when you get in moods like this, his tough skin not letting any jabs you make get to him.
“how ‘ya feeling? hm?” he mumbles into your hair, his voice soft and comforting. a wet hand reaches up to rub small, tight circles on your tummy, his thumb occasionally caressing the flesh.
“a lot better, thank you. m’sorry for being a dick earlier.” you apologize, intertwining your hand with the his on your stomach. you hear an amused hum from the brunette above you, as if he was holding back a chuckle. you almost immediately look up at him with your eyebrows furrowed, not seeing what could possibly be so funny. “you mean it?” matt asks sarcastically, that infamous smile decorating his lips as he dips his head down so you were face to face.
you roll your eyes at his slight cockiness before nodding, feeding his ego just a little. the both of you stare at each other for a moment, soaking each other in. suddenly, you’re pulled out of your trance when you feel his left hand dip down in between the plush of your thighs.
matt smacks his teeth, never once taking breaking eye contact. “you see.. i’m not really convinced. c’mon, prove it to me.” he says, licking over his dry lips before leaning in & kissing yours.
#𓊆ྀི⠀ׁ⠀ㅤ © ㅤ dominicfikue ︎︎︎︎. 𓊇ྀི#sooo…….me next or what???#ugh i need him#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo angst#matt stuniolo fanfic#matt sturniolo blurb#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo imagine#matthew sturniolo#matt sturniolo x you#matt sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo triplets
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S17
Spinning Now: "Birthday Sex" by Jeremih (2009)
Pairing: Danny x female reader
Word Count: 14.3k
Description: Danny's always been that friend and roommate who you never thought of as anything more, until a birthday proposition presents itself in a way that neither of you can deny.
Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, Heavy Flirting, Praise, Dirty Talk, Touching, Wax Play
Smut: Kissing, Oral M!Receiving, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex (use protection!!)
+ This little diddly of an idea has been swimming around in my head for months now, and I've been so excited to get it going. And thanks to the reader who suggested it be a roomies trope ;) Hope ya like xoxo
Girl you know i i i...
HER POV
White or red?
There is no special occasion, simply just the bi-weekly dinner gathering of your friend group that has turned into an every-Thursday-night habit. Not that an occasion constitutes your wine choice, but still yet, the thought quickly crosses your mind. You are all meeting at your and Danny’s house tonight, along with the conjoined group of friends that has been steadily keeping each other fed for the past two and a half years, now.
You’d been living with Danny for as long as you could remember, taking claim of his spare room sometime after everyone collectively moved out of your parents’ homes. The arrangement worked perfectly, the two of you already knowing how the other ticked after being friends for many years. Your jobs kept both of you busy, giving the other enough room that you didn’t feel like you were invading space in the small house.
You pull your phone from your pocket as you peruse the wine selections, texting the group chat to check on tonight’s menu.
You: What are we making tonight again? I already forgot
Jake: Salmon and quinoa and some other stuff
Jake: God your memory sucks
You: Emma, come get your man he’s being mean to me again
Emma: Quit picking on her babe
You: Ok so I should get white wine, right? Pairs with fish?
Sam: Just get three fuckin bottles of wine, who cares
You: Ok I’m not coming if you guys are gonna continue to harass me
Sam: Too bad it’s your house and you have to be there anyway
You: I’ll lock myself in my room I don’t care
Danny: No Y/N, if they’re gonna be assholes they don’t have to come over. They can stay home and we can order pizza :)
Jake: Shut the fuck up Sam, I’m making the damned salmon and quinoa
Josh: What the fuck is quinoa
You shove your phone back in your pocket as you roll your eyes, the buzzing still consistent as you imagine they are still arguing with one another.
It's funny how much Danny has been defending you lately. He’s still his normal self, your very good friend who sometimes lets his sweet side get the better of him, but in the past couple of months, something has switched. The more the brothers pick on you, the more he stands up for you. It used to be the opposite, with him joining in on your playful dog-piling any chance he could get. But ever since a couple of months ago… ever since his last birthday…
Almost three years ago now, you and Danny had found yourselves wrapped up in each other’s arms in his bed after a drunken night that started out like any other, dinner, socializing, cards, and way too much to drink. It was his birthday party, and after everyone else had cleared out, you stayed up to clean up the multitude of plastic cups and empty bottles that were scattered around the house. You were both fairly drunk, and you knew if you got the majority of the party cleaned up that night, you wouldn’t have to bother with it all while being inevitably hungover the next morning.
“I’ll get out of your hair soon, Danny. I’m about to call an Uber to go stay with Emma.” You’d said as you dried the last of the dishes. He was sprawled out over on the loveseat, his shirt halfway unbuttoned and his mess of curls pulled up on top of his head. You’d always found him attractive, but you’d always been positive he was way out of your league. He’d never even given you a passing glance in that way. Except, that night, he looked exceptionally delicious… and your hazy, drunken mind undoubtedly had started to drift.
“What? Whyyyyy…? Don’t get an Uber, it’s too late,” he’d slurred as you walked over to sit on the ottoman his feet were rested on.
“Becauseeee… it’s your birthday and I don’t want to interrupt your time with whatever guest you might have coming over.” You remember the words felt heavy in your mouth, like it was strange that you had never talked about Danny’s personal life out loud before. Or yours, for that matter. Even after all the years of being friends and roommates, the two of you had always taken things as they’d come… watching as strangers made their way in and out of your bedrooms without a second question.
“Guest?” His face contorted. “I ‘ont have a guest coming over, Y/N…”
You’d let your mouth gape open and your hand clutch your chest in a display of over-dramatics. “Really? No one to give you a happy ending on your birthday?! You must be falling off the wagon, Wagner.”
What you do remember, though, was how hard he laughed at your half-assed attempt at a shitty joke.
“I swear! Just me, tonight.” It was at that very second that you remember becoming enamored with the way he licked his lips, how he clicked his tongue just a little, and how his eyes had fluttered closed under his lashes. He’d reached his hand out for you to grab, so you did.
“You gonna let me be lonely on my birthday, Y/N?” His warm fingers slowly worked their way to interlace with yours. This flirtatious tone wasn’t something you’d ever seen from him before, but for some reason, you found yourself tumbling for it. The deep rasp in his voice signaled something else, something so unexpected from him that you almost laughed it off as him kidding with you.
Your eyes had glanced around the room in confusion, and when you didn’t answer, you felt his foot kick into your leg, bringing your eyes back to look at him. His eyebrow was cocked in the air, as if he was waiting for an answer.
“You’re drunk, Danny… you don’t…” you’d anxiously answered, nodding your head side to side in disbelief.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t want me to… stay…” for some reason, he was making you nervous, and you were having trouble answering him. There was no way he wanted you to stay, of all people. No way in hell.
He’d laughed, sitting up on the couch and leaning over to take you in his arms in a giant bear hug. His face was buried into your shoulder, pulling you close in the warmest embrace you’d had in a while. It was strange feeling him this closely, and you shivered a little at his touch. You’d hugged him back, and then felt his lips drift close to your ear.
“I actually do… want you to stay here with me. In my room, in my bed, until tomorrow morning…” his voice crackled in your ear, the faint scent of spicy tequila still on his breath. It’d sent chills all over your body, and you had to admit, it was a strangely welcome feeling. Danny had never been this close to you, like this, ever before. His words had shocked your system, though, temporarily deeming you unable to respond.
So when he finally pulled back from the hug and confidently met your eyes again, you let yourself go with it. You were still fairly intoxicated, but this drop dead gorgeous friend of yours who had hardly ever given you the time of day was now throwing himself into your lap. Why turn him down? It was his birthday, after all.
“I never knew you were into me, Danny,” you’d cooed, watching as his fingers drifted across the back of your hand.
He sat back and dropped his head against the cushion again, cracking his fingers above his head. “I‘ve always been into you, Y/N. You’re gorgeous and fun, make me laugh… always been so good to me.”
You’d never admitted it, but of course you had pictured yourself with him a time or two. How could you not? Talented, handsome, kind and genuine…always looking for fun and always including you in his outlandish plans. But this…him laying it out on the line like this? It had your body beginning to physically yearn for him, completely out of nowhere.
“Stop playing, no you haven’t…” you’d argued, still in disbelief.
He held his hands up in surrender, cocking a sideways smile. “I swear. I just… never had the guts to say anything…”
You contemplated it all for a second, giving him a questioning look that begged for his reassurance.
“Why not, ya know? Not like we’re strangers…” you’d muttered through a sharp inhale.
You stood from the ottoman and slowly began stepping one foot in front of the other toward him, standing just between his legs. Your heart rate spiked as you answered him, your face flushing with the reality of what you were about to do. “Just a birthday hookup, huh? Just this one time?”
You let your hand brush against his thigh, your fingers lightly tickling until they reached his hip. It felt as though your hands were disconnected from your body, making their own decision to reach out and touch him as he sat reclined in front of you. Gently, his hands pulled around your waist, his thumbs digging into the flesh, strong and inviting.
“Just this one time…and that’s it.”
That night, the two of you stayed up until the winter sun was striking through the windows onto Danny’s white down comforter, and only then did the two of you finally drift off to a short but sweet slumber, until the alarm on his phone woke you both in a panic.
You’d fallen asleep upside-down on the bed, both of your heads at the foot of his king-size. His arm was draped across the small of your back, and his hair was still a messy bundle of curls at the back of his head.
“Fuck,” he’d muttered, rubbing his eyes. “What time is it?”
“I don’t fuckin’ know, it’s your alarm…”
Suddenly, now, in the light of day and the brightness of the room, the both of you became very conscious of your unclothed selves. You’d felt your cheeks blush at the sight of him, skin still dewy with the after-effects of sweat and sex. You didn’t miss his passing glance of you, too, still halfway wrapped up in his sheets as he maneuvered to the top of the bed to check the time.
“‘S only seven. Shit, I’ve got a headache…” he said, running a hand over his face.
“Me too,” you mumbled as he laid back down beside you. You pulled the covers up a bit more over your body, feeling extremely exposed in the bright sunlight. He propped himself up on his elbows, giving you a sweet and questioning look. “So, what are we supposed to do now?” you’d asked. “Cuddle?”
His laugh bounced off the walls, the glitter in his eye sending a wave of nerves through your body.
“We cuddled plenty last night, Y/N. We didn’t end up falling asleep until like, six,” he said, his voice groggy with sleep, or lack thereof.
“Fuck,” you breathed. “I’m sorry for keeping you up all night, I know you have things to do all day–” he cut you off with a kiss, his neck craning down to meet your lips with the sweetest surprise touch.
After a few fleeting seconds he pulled away, meeting your eyes as he spoke again. “Don’t you dare apologize to me, Y/N. I asked you to stay in here. Asked you to keep me company on my birthday.” His hand reached up to pull the hair away from your cheek, bringing instant flashbacks of his hands on your face and shoulders last night as he pinned you down, fucking you into his mattress. “I was just completely unaware that both of us would last for that many hours…” he laughed, rolling away to cover his face.
“God, Danny, don’t embarrass me!” you laughed along with him.
“What is there to be embarrassed about?! Shit, I think we were great together,” he went on, holding his hand out for you to low-five.
You pursed your lips together, letting your hand clap onto his. “We were, weren’t we? Never would have thought.”
“Shit, I thought about it all the time…” he admitted.
“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you played, smacking him across the chest.
“I don’t know, you’re just a girl in my friend group, ya know? My roommate that helps me with rent…didn’t want to freak you out or something and make you hate me,” he explained.
You propped up on your elbow, shaking your head at him. “So we could have been doing this all along?”
“Oh, so you enjoyed yourself, then?” he countered, rolling you to lie on your back as he pulled himself over you again.
As you gazed up at him above you, small curly strands falling around his face and onto yours, you felt your face get hot, the same need you felt in your stomach for him last night coming back full force. A need you never thought you would have for him. A need that came back to you over and over again the night before, and left you both too exhausted to even bother to see the morning.
“Danny, we fucked like five times, of course I enjoyed myself,” you tried to keep the confidence heavy in your voice.
His nose scrunched up as he giggled, light and airy into the room. He laced his fingers with yours, lifting your hands together into the air and pulling them back down between you again. This time, you took the initiative and kissed him again, straining to keep things from moving as quickly as they had moved once you finally climbed into his lap on the couch last night.
When you finally separated, both of you refraining from letting it go any further, he disconnected your hands and clenched his jaw. “What do we do now?”
You didn’t want a relationship. And neither did he. That much was very known amongst your friend group, the both of you way too busy with your own lives to devote your time to another. You stood strong in that decision, and you knew for a fact that he would, too. So your mind began wandering, thinking of ways to end this entanglement you’d found yourselves in.
“What if we just… did this sometimes?” you proposed.
His brow furrowed. “I’m listening…”
“Our birthdays. Yours in December, and mine in June… it’s perfect. If the both of us are single on our birthday each year, we make a plan to not leave the other lonely…” The idea seemed preposterous, but at the same time, it didn't. A sure-fire way to make each of your birthdays interesting each year, and after the night you’d shared last night, you’re positive he wouldn’t turn the idea down.
His eyes dashed around the room as he considered it, taking a deep breath as he sat up in the bed. You caught a glance of his naked lower half, and your eyes rolled back on their own accord as you pictured his hips pounding into yours last night in the darkness of his bedroom. You sat up too, challenging his gaze.
He held his hand out again, this time for you to shake.
“Deal.”
—-
After deciding on the three bottles of wine, two white and a red, your mind begins wandering off by itself, causing you to hardly pay attention to the fact that you are singing the words to the song playing in your headphones out loud. You bite your lips, glancing around to see if anyone had seen you, or worse, heard your horribly flat singing voice. Luckily the aisle is clear, so you make a mad dash for the checkout line, ready to get out and head back home for dinner.
The drive is short, and when you finally arrive in the driveway, you find that you’re the last one to get there.
“Hello, hello,” you sing as you let yourself inside, kicking off your flip flops at the door. You set the bag of wine bottles on his island where Jake and Sam are busy preparing the meal.
“Thank god, the booze is here!” you hear Josh sing through the house as he makes his way over to stand beside you, opening the drawer of the island to search for Danny’s wine opener. You set all three bottles in line on the countertop in a nice straight line. “Shiraz, Y/N? That’s surely a bold choice…” Josh says, rolling his eyes.
“The label looked pretty, I don’t know!” you counter, shoving your shoulder into his. “It already smells really good, guys…” you say as you leave Josh to the wine, leaning over Jake’s shoulder as he stirs a pot at the stove. Suddenly Danny is leaning over his other side, sticking his finger in whatever sauce Jake is stirring.
“Aht, aht!” Jake swats his hand away just as Danny sticks his finger into the saucepan. “It’s not perfect yet…”
“Tastes good as hell to me,” Danny says, locking eyes with you as he pops his lips over his finger. You feel your insides churn.
“So Y/N, your birthday is next week, you guys planning your weird little bi-yearly birthday hookup still?” Josh nonchalantly asks as he yanks the cork from the bottle of red. Fortunately, it only took nearly two years for your friends to catch on to your and Danny’s little birthday agreement, when Jake inadvertently tried to surprise Danny with filling up his bathroom with balloons, only to find you bent over the bathroom sink.
“Christ, Josh, you have to put it like that?” Danny intervened. “Geez…”
“What?! That’s what it is, right?” Josh says as he pulls glasses down from the cabinet. You feel your face blush, even though it’s an open topic, at this point.
Danny pulls himself up to sit on the corner of his countertop. “No, we simply enjoy the other’s company on our birthdays because both of us suck at the dating playing field and always decide to indulge in one another’s availability, right Y/N?”
“That’s correct,” you confidently agree as you listen to the others groan.
Josh throws his head back and laughs loudly.
“What?” Danny yelps.
“You don’t think it’s funny that neither of you have ever had a significant other on your birthdays for the past what, three years now?” Josh says, eliciting silent looks of agreement from his brothers.
“Mmm, no, I don’t think it’s funny. We both suck at dating, you heard him. This is just…our way of making sure we aren’t alone twice a year.” The attempt at explaining yourselves is transparent, at this point. You know you’re lying to yourselves. It's obvious. Each and every time you pull yourself from Danny’s bed, or he from yours, you feel your bones begging you to stay. You like him, you’ll admit it, but only to yourself.
Twice a year isn’t enough, it was never enough. And you know for a fact that it will never be enough. On his birthday last year, you could have sworn you heard him say something close to the ‘L’ word as he came for the third time that night, his voice low and whining as you clenched around him, bringing him to his completely fucked-out state of mind. Each hookup had gotten hotter, heavier, and more serious. Each time was better than the last, and this last one was so intense, that you ended up staying in his room a second night, completely breaking your own rules.
As you slipped out of his bedroom that second morning, his honey brown eyes were begging you to stay, his lips touching his fingertips and blowing it your way as you quietly shut his bedroom door behind you.
That morning broke you. That morning your heart told you what it wanted.
That morning was the last time you denied it to yourself– you were absolutely head over heels for him. The yearning you’d felt had begun overtaking your whole self. And it wasn’t just yearning, it was something else. Something more powerful, something you couldn’t grasp the notion of, because you’d never felt it before. It’s now become something that makes your days drag by with the thought of him, not only sexually but personally, too. You feel wrapped up in his life, intertwined with his decisions, and some days you barely even have the time to give each other more than a goodmorning and goodnight. Sure, you still meet up every week with your group for dinner, but the subtle touches and the intense glances that are being shared almost on the daily now have become too much. You want to tell him. You need to tell him.
“Hm. Okay, so… what’s the plan this year?” Josh asks, obviously wanting to pry into your business, just like always.
“Josh, it’s none of your fucking business. Can you leave them alone for a second?” Sam says as he empties the box of rice into the insta-pot.
“No, it’s fine. I have big plans…” Danny bites his cheeks in as he denies himself a cheeky smile, swinging his bare feet as he sits on the counter. His eyes are boring into yours, and you swear just a simple word from him would have you on your knees for him, anymore.
“Big plans, huh?” you try to avoid his stare.
“Mmmmhm…” he says, grinning to himself. “Might have you running away and never coming back, though.”
You nearly choke on the sip of wine swirling in your mouth. Throughout the years, you will admit, your hookups had gotten more and more mischievous as time went on, both of you pushing each other’s boundaries just a little more each time. Nothing had ever gotten too crazy, but after his birthday last year, it was an unwritten understanding that not much was off the table, at all.
Sam plugs his ears with his fingers. “La la la I don’t wanna hear details!”
Jake pulls his wooden spoon from the sauce, turning to face all of you. “I do, I wanna hear it. Keep going. What’s the plan?”
“I’m not fuckin’ tellin’ you guys, it’ll ruin the surprise,” Danny argues as Josh hands him a glass of wine.
“Okay well you can tell me after her birthday then, right?” Jake pushes.
Emma steps in front of him, taking the now dripping spoon from his hand and running her tongue up the side to catch it from going into the floor. “Yeah Danny, maybe you should give him the rundown, maybe it’ll get his wheels turning,” she challenges, bouncing her eyebrows to Jake as she places the spoon back into the sauce. You laugh at her, feeling no embarrassment in the least.
“Get my wheels turning?! What is that supposed to mean?!” Jake yells, grabbing her waist from behind and spinning her around the kitchen.
You lock eyes with Danny again as he gives you a suspicious look of excitement, like he’s trying his hardest to keep his idea locked inside.
—---
After a rambunctious and wine-drunk dinner, everyone begins to file out of the house, stumbling away to either walk down the street to their respective homes, or catching a ride out with other friends to the nearest bar. You’re left behind again, like always, helping Danny with dishes and pouring out the remaining bits of wine left behind in the glasses.
“So, next week. The big 2-5. You still down for hanging out?” he asks as he dries the last dish, as if you would ever say no.
“Actually, I think I’m going to spend this year alone, ya know? Keep it low key, order some take-out and curl up on the couch,” you say with a cheeky tone.
His jaw hangs slack as he nearly drops the towel in his hand. “Really?”
You scoff. “No, Danny. Are you serious? We shook on it, and I don’t break my promises,” you laugh. You slowly walk toward him, the line between friend and more than a friend getting blurrier as time goes on. You want to put your hands on his bare chest, press yourself against his warm body, crane your neck up to meet for a sweet kiss, but you don’t. Because you can’t. Because he isn’t yours.
So instead you just simply stand before him, leaning a hand onto the countertop.
He lets out an audible sigh of relief. “Shew, good. I was about to be pissed at you, Y/N,” he breathes as he playfully shoves your shoulder. “Standing me up on your birthday…”
You smile as you realize your feet are carrying you closer to him on their own. You try to stop them, try to tell them no, but you can’t. Now you’re standing in front of him, your chests almost touching as you let your finger trail up his arm to his neck. “I’d never stand you up, Danny. Not in a million years,” you murmur.
You feel his body stiffen as you let your singular fingertip connect with his skin, your touch a featherlight drift. You glance down at his hand balanced on the cold marble countertop, his fingers tightening and loosening under the weight of his own want to touch you back. You hear him breathe in, fast and choppy as you begin to manipulate the line between friends and more, truly unable to keep it black and white no matter how much you try. Finally you let your eyes look into his, dark and brooding and looking a lot like they do after a few rounds of self-indulgence with you.
“Good,” he growls, “because I have a hell of a night planned for us.”
Us.
“Is that right?” you question, still trailing your fingertip across his arm and neck. You can see the chill bumps forming on his skin now, and you can tell he is physically restraining himself from succumbing to his mental constraints. You have to admit, you’re finding it very satisfying, watching his mind tell his body no. The muscles in his arms flex and tighten as you step closer, slowly tiptoeing to bring your faces close, your lips barely ghosting his.
“That’s very right,” he whispers, opening his mouth slightly as if he’s going to kiss you, but instead pulling back a little. The proximity is enough to make you feel soaked already, your entire body buzzing with fire for him.
“When do you want me ready?” you breathe, letting your lips graze across his, your finger now hooked behind his bicep. His hands are still gripping as he balances between the island and the countertop as he leans down to you, restraining himself still yet.
He’s inhaling and blowing air quickly through his nose, and you know for a fact that he’s holding himself back with everything in him. His jaw clenches hard as his eyes stay trained on your lips. “Want you right now, if I’m being honest…” His words make the butterflies in your stomach explode their wings.
You can taste the wine still heavy on his breath. “But it’s not my birthday, Danny…” you retort.
He takes a deep breath. “I’m getting to a point where I don’t care.”
You swallow it down. Maybe your thoughts are mutual… Your heart is absolutely racing, like it would do when you found out your elementary school crush liked you back. You don’t even know what to say, at this point, you want him so badly…your vision blurring with the mental snaps of the two of you wrapped up in one another again.
“You should care, we have an agreement,” you admit through your teeth, as badly as it hurts to say it. “We set our rules.”
He scoffs hard. “I don’t remember signing my name on any dotted line, Y/N,” he spurts back, making you feel that drop in your stomach again. He wants to break the rules, too.
You bite your lips in, deciding to cut your losses. You step back from him, disconnecting your finger from behind his arm, and stepping away. The flushed look on his pink cheeks is enough to make you want to run back into his arms, and the look on his face makes it seem as though he just lost the one thing in his life he never planned on having, anyway.
“I asked you a question, Danny. When do you want me ready?” you say strongly.
He closes his eyes and recenters, swallowing down his thoughts. “Uh, uhm. F-Friday. Around 8.” He finally cleans up his expression and meets you with a smile again. “Be ready to celebrate.”
—--
DANNY POV
Friday rolls around more quickly than you thought it would. The group had decided to rain-check family dinner this week, planning on celebrating Y/N’s birthday the following weekend when everyone would be in town at the same time.
Your palms had been sweaty all day just at the thought of what tonight would hold, and you realize that you hadn’t been this anxious for a night together with Y/N, yet. The nerves are positively eating you alive, but you shove them down, knowing that you shouldn’t be having them in the first place. She doesn’t feel for you the same way you feel for her, and she likely never will.
It’s heartbreaking and wasteful, really, knowing that your sexual chemistry with her is only put to good use twice a fucking year when it should be being shared with her whenever you wanted to show her how much you really care, but. Here you find yourself.
She’s taking up all the extra space in your mind these days. You feel like you’re floating on air each and every time the vision of her face pops into your mind, you feel like you can feel the blood in your veins rising to a hotter temperature than you’ve ever experienced, and you find yourself wanting to give her all the things she’s ever wanted, and more. Your friend, one of your best friends, you’d say, unknowingly spinning herself into your life in a way that you can’t even tell her about.
That last birthday you shared together, your twenty-fifth, wasn’t the same as the rest before it. Sure, fucking her was high on your list of excellent sexual experiences thus far, but that last time, shit. Had your head spinning for days after. Never had a woman gotten you more fucked up than she did after that night. Two nights, really. That was when you knew it was real. When you wanted to ask her to stay, don’t go… be with me here and don’t ever leave… But your pride got the best of you. So you let her walk out, taking every single last bit of hope you had to make her yours with her as she walked out your bedroom door.
Could she not see it? Did she not notice how horribly you want her, all the time? Surely she doesn’t think you’re just being nice when you do little things for her… offer to change the oil in her car, take her lunch to work, send her every single funny meme and video you have ever come across simply because you know they’ll make her laugh…
Apparently not. But you don’t want to push too hard, too soon, either. If it’s meant to happen, it will. Hell, you hadn’t even told Sam about these feelings you’d been having. No one knows. This is a secret you’d kept bottled up for months now.
You come back inside after a quick trip to the grocery store and gently place the items from your arms onto the island, making sure the champagne bottle doesn’t tip over and break. You stick the bottle into the fridge and remove everything else from the plastic bags before rushing into your bedroom to make sure it’s presentable.
While she was at work, you’d spent the majority of the day cleaning up the general guy-ness of your bedroom, putting on a fresh set of sheets and giving the bathroom a good wipe-down. You’d never cared this much, for what she thinks of your surroundings…
…But you want tonight to be special. You want this birthday to be her favorite one, yet. And you’re determined to do so. You’d placed various candles around the surfaces of your bedroom, trying to make it romantic, but not so much that it will make her think you’re trying too hard.
When you decide that your room is as neat as it’s going to get, you go back into the kitchen and tear into the small cardboard box that’s been hiding away on top of your refrigerator for almost a month now. You’d seen an ad for it while scrolling instagram or something, and you knew right then that you had to get it. Your birthdays spent with her were becoming more and more experimental, and the idea for this year had fallen right into your lap.
You rip the packing tape off the box, letting it fall to the wayside as you open the flaps, finding the perfectly wrapped 2 and 5 candles in all their glittering glory. Shiny, crimson red wax with metallic gold trimming, long wicks and a thickness that regular store-bought candles just don’t have. You smirk as you pull them from the packaging and lay them in front of her small cake- chocolate with white buttercream icing. Her favorite. A glance at the clock on the stove lets you know you have an hour until she gets home, so you scurry off to the shower to get a last-minute scrub before you inevitably hear her coming through the door.
—--
Your stomach nearly falls to the floor when you hear the front door unlatch, and you find her a tired and flustered mess after her long shift. You busy yourself on your laptop, trying your best to seem more involved with what you’re doing than watching her unload her things from her arms onto the table.
“Hey birthday girl,” you mutter without looking back at her. “How was your day?”
You feel her lean all her body weight across the back of the couch beside you. “Long,” she huffs, “but not bad.”
You find the confidence to turn your head to her, finding her resting her head into her palm as she eyes you. You have to reel it all back in as you feel her so closely in your presence again.
“Good,” you reply, keeping it short. “Not too tired to skip our date?”
She hums a sweet laugh. “No. Most definitely not.”
“Are we…leaving the house? I’m trying to decide what to wear…” she asks shyly.
You have to remind yourself that she’s your friend, there’s nothing to be scared of, you do this all the time…
“No, actually. We’re staying home,” you reply.
Home. Your home, with her.
“Eight o’clock?” she reiterates.
“Yep, on the dot,” you tease as she stands to make her way to her end of the house.
She sways down the hallway, tossing her jacket over her shoulder as she disappears into the shadows. “I’ll meet you in the kitchen.”
—---
A few hours later, you’re leaned on the island swirling a lowball glass of tequila, waiting for her to emerge from her bedroom. You’d been standing patiently, fashionably early for your birthday date in the kitchen as you listened to the faint sounds of her music playing as she got ready.
Your nerves are already shot, the tequila doing little to assist in qualming the nervous anxiety swirling through you. So when you finally hear her bedroom door open and her steps coming down the hall, you have to tilt the rest back in hopes that it will hit you a little more quickly.
She’s dressed cute, but comfortable, and you can tell she did her hair that special way that you’d complimented a few weeks ago. She smells like sweet sugary flowers mixed with the woodsy smell of rain, and just her scent as she approached you was already driving you insane.
You meet her in the middle of the kitchen, grabbing her hand to twirl her around into your embrace. “Happy birthday, gorgeous,” you mutter, your face falling into her hair for a second.
Her arms lift around your neck, squeezing just a little as she places the sweetest kiss to your cheek. “Thank you, Danny.” You allow yourself to hold her for just a second, your right hand gripping the wrist of your left at the back of her waist.
“You hungry?” You ask as you pull away from her.
“Yeah, whatcha making?” she replies, taking a seat at the island.
You grab the box of the frozen pizza you’d previously thrown in the oven, displaying it for her.
“Oh my god, my favorite!” she squeals. “I’m so excited.”
You laugh as you fold the box up, cramming it into the trash can. “Knew you would be. It’s not a five-star birthday meal, but. Let’s be honest. I can’t cook for shit, and you love this pizza more than you love a lot of things…”
“No, you’re so right. I’ve actually been craving it for a while,” she giggles.
“Wait, I also gotttttt….” You make your way to the fridge, pulling out the bottle of champagne.
“Shit, pizza and champagne? You know exactly how to make a girl happy, Daniel.” She blushes a little, and you know you’re on the right track for the night.
“You gotta open it, though. It’s bad luck if someone else opens the champagne bottle on your birthday,” you lie, scooting the bottle to her across the countertop.
“You’re crazy. Give it,” she rolls her eyes as she takes the bottle, twisting the key seven times and removing the wire casing. She stands from her chair, gripping the bottle in both hands as she searches for somewhere to aim.
“At the wall! Just not toward a window!” you warn, closing one eye as she begins to push on the cork. Finally it pops off, flying toward the wall as the bubbly pours from the neck of the bottle. “Get it, Y/N, get it!”
She cups her lips over the overflowing bottle, slurping up as much as she can before it flows into the floor. The two of you laugh as you bring two glasses over, letting her pour them up. Just then the timer for the pizza goes off, and the sound of the beeps reminds you that time is ticking, making your nerves rush for the main event.
——-
After stuffing yourselves with pizza and downing the bottle of champagne, the two of you are piled up on the couch sharing a six pack of some crazy peach flavored beer she’d bought last week.
You’re seated on the couch as she reclines across it, her legs in your lap. You’d talked a lot tonight, like more than you maybe ever have before. Sure, you’d been friends for many years now, but majority of the time, you’re surrounded by the other guys always intervening on your conversations, or interrupting your discussions.
But after three hours of deep exchange, you swear you could talk to her until the end of time, and never get tired of it. She looks natural with her bare, sunkissed legs draped across your lap, and your hand that’s mindlessly drifting over her thigh and knee looks like it belongs there.
Her drunken laughter bounces off the walls and right into your chest, making your entire self beam with happiness and adoration for her. The way she takes up space in the home you share gives you an inexplicable feeling. Roommates doesn’t even begin to describe what you want to title your living situation with her.
Your faces are blotched red and tears are falling from your eyes as the two of you come down from a laughing fit, and a sweet recovery silence falls over the both of you. Her eyes are bloodshot from the alcohol, and her face is flushed from the belly laughs.
“You’re really pretty, Danny,” she flits, making you whip your head her way.
“What?” you ask, embarrassed.
“You’re pretty. Well, you’re handsome, of course, but. You’re also pretty,” she explains, her words making you feel shy.
“Oh, thank you, Y/N. Don’t think anyone’s ever told me that before…” you respond. Your hand grips into her thigh a little bit as your head falls back onto the couch cushion. You meet her eyes, the both of you staring at each other while everything else in the room disappears. You hold the gaze for a long while, each passing second making your breathing pick up. Fuck, she makes you nervous.
Finally, she stands, pushing her hair back behind her ear as she reaches for you to take her hand. “Take me to bed, Danny…” she whispers.
Okay.
You slowly stand, keeping her hand in yours as she pulls you into the center of the room. Like magnets, your bodies are pulled into one another, your hands finding both of hers as you turn to walk her backwards down the hall to your room. You move in slow motion as the two of you glide across the wooden floors, taking your sweet, special time.
You take her chin between your fingers, and push her hair back again before leaning down to press your lips to hers. It’s gentle and sweet and slow, her lips parting only just a little bit as you guide her down the long hallway. You allow yourself the indulgence of her lips, the feeling of her tongue gently swiping across yours, the flavor of everything that she is. It’s all perfect, she’s perfect.
Her hands finally find your face and hair, entangling themselves like they always do, pulling you further into her. For this only being the sixth time you’ve done this, it feels like the most natural thing in the world to you. It doesn’t make any sense that you waste your time thinking about it, instead of giving her the loving that she deserves.
But you plan on showing her tonight. You may not be able to tell her, but damned if you can’t try your best to show her.
“Wait, I almost forgot,” you pause as you approach your bedroom door. “I’ll be right back. Stay here,” you command, squeezing her shoulders. “No peeking,” you whisper as you watch her eyelids close.
You’d already strategically placed her cake on the table in your room, with two forks and no plates. But the last finishing touch is the sporadically placed candles. You grab your lighter from your nightstand and light them one by one, watching as the flickering flames cast a warm glow across your walls. Perfect. Lastly, you place the 2 and 5 candles in the center of the cake, but wait to light them.
You slip back out into the hall, finding her still standing with her eyes closed. You grab her hands and pull her to walk toward you. “Keep them closed.”
Her smile lights up your entire world. “What are we doing, Danny? I’m scared…”
“Don’t be scared, babe. S’just me…”
You pull her inside, instructing her to sit down on the bed as you grab the cake and lighter. You balance it in one hand and flick the lighter with the other, lighting the wicks of both the number candles.
“Open your eyes.”
Her eyes flick open, finding the room completely illuminated with orange glow. “Ah, Danny…” she gasps, glancing around the room, and finally to the cake in your hands in front of her.
“Hm hm hmm hm hmmm hmm…” you hum the Happy Birthday song, your voice a bit shaky and jittery with nerves. “Don’t forget to make a wish,” you say, watching as her eyes flick to yours, then back to the cake in your hands. She closes her eyes for a few seconds before opening them again, and blowing out the flames of her 25.
“You wanna know what I wished for?” she asks.
You shake your head. “No. But I hope it comes true.”
You set the cake down on your nightstand and you sit back down beside her on your bed. You bring her in close again, letting your forehead balance on hers before you make contact. You swear to it, you could get lost in kissing her more easily than you could get lost in a foreign country. You’d kissed her a hundred times before, but lately…now…
Things move slowly, things move sweetly…normally the two of you waste no time in ripping one another’s clothes off, biting and scratching and devouring each other like you’re starved, but tonight feels like it deserves more attention than that. It deserves to be appreciated.
Your hands drift to the bottom hem of her cream-colored eyelet lace dress, your hand drifting up her thigh. You pull the dress as you go, revealing her thong hugging her hip. Your hand slips below the waistband, and you run your fingers along it and down the front pantyline, the backs of your knuckles skimming across her heat. She whines a little at the contact, and you feel your vision growing blurry.
You continue kissing her while slowly letting your hands explore her in a way you’ve never let them before, taking special care to pay attention to your every move. The kiss becomes more longing when you let a digit slip into her folds, feeling her wetness coating your finger for the first time in six months. Her hands grip onto your shoulders, pulling your upper body into her. You push her back to lay on the bed, never once disconnecting your mouths.
Her left knee is bent into the air while the other one lies flat, so you push it to the side a little as your hand still hides in her panties. Her hand is yanking at the back of your hair as your featherlight touch drifts up and down, finally landing on her sweet spot. She cries quietly into your mouth when you land on it just right, using your middle finger to swirl her wetness across it.
She sits up a little, reaching to your back to pull your cotton t-shirt over your head. You disconnect for just a second to help her, and toss it to the floor. “Mmm there you are,” she mumbles, her hands rushing across the skin of your chest and arms while you go back to work.
You feel her legs spread, giving you the ok to move further. You let your two middle fingers dip inside of her to the hilt, her muscles already tight and twisting around you. “Fuck baby, you’re tight…” you pull away long enough to say. With your words she tightens around you on purpose, clenching herself as you begin pumping your hand in and out of her. You start to wonder if you’re the only one she’s slept with since December. Not that it’s any of your business, but, lately you’d decided that your feelings for her had gathered so heavily in your chest that that six month gap would be worth it, if it meant she could be all yours.
You watch her face in awe, suddenly feeling no ounce of shyness in the least in watching her come undone around your hand. Her bottom lip bites into her mouth as her eyelids flutter open and shut, and the sounds that escape from her lips make you realize how beyond ready for her you are.
You continue pumping your fingers in and out of her, feeling her drip down onto the bed sheets below you. “You wanna let go like this for me, baby?” you ask, having trouble keeping your breaths even.
“No. Yes, but no…” she concedes. “Wanna… want you…”
You smirk. “Go ahead, Y/N, we’ve got all night. You know how we are...” You take the opportunity to twist your fingers inside of her, turning your arm so that your palm is now pressed against her heat instead of perpendicular with it. You lean down and lick a stripe up the side of her neck as you leave your fingers buried deep, stopping the pumping altogether and instead wiggling the tips of your fingers against the spot deep inside her.
“Fuck Danny,” she breathes. “Keep it there keep it there…” Her eyes squeeze shut as you watch her chase her high, her hand squeezing at your pec and gripping onto it with everything she has.
It’s impressive really, how much you’d learned her body after just being with her a handful of times over the course of three years, learning her ins and outs and what drives her crazy for you, and stowing them away at the back of your mind until the next birthday.
You make quick and heady work of brushing your fingers across that spot, pressing your palm against her clit and adding just the right amount of circular pressure in both places. Her legs fall open even further and her head tilts back, all of her muscles tightening as she cries out, giving you her first orgasm of the night. And you had barely even removed any clothing yet.
When she’s done, you gather up her wetness and pull it onto her stomach under her dress, letting your middle finger massage it onto her skin. “Fuck…” she breathes out, wiping the hair from her face. “That didn’t take me long,” she laughs.
“No, it didn’t,” you agree, sitting up on the bed. “Must be excited to see me.”
She sits up and stands from the bed, pulling her flowy cream dress up over her hips and hiking one knee after the other across either side of you. You lean back away from her straddle, resting your arms back on the bed as you get a good look at her, already glowy. She reaches up and clasps her hands behind your neck. “Very excited to see you,” she admits shyly.
“Hm, really? You see me every day,” you poke, trying to feel out her level.
“Yeah but we can’t do this on random Tuesday afternoons, or in front of our friends, now, can we?” she presses, letting her hips fall onto your lap. You reach one finger to her chest and trail it up to under her chin, pulling her into you. Your heart begins pounding as you fall into a ravenous kiss again, this time bringing more heat than you even began to touch on a few minutes ago. Your hands fall to her waist, pulling her down onto you as she moves her knees to sit closer, pressing your chests together. Your hands travel across her thighs and to her waist, then finally around to grip her ass.
Though your tongue is burying itself deeply into her mouth, you’re metaphorically biting it. You want to tell her that yes, you do want to move things in another direction with her, you do want to hold her hand in front of your friends, you do want them to know how crazy you actually are for her. So in an act of boldness, you try.
“Maybe not in this regard, but they probably wouldn’t mind a little PDA…”
She giggles as she wraps her hands in your hair. “PDA? Like flirting with each other? In front of them?”
“Yeah, just like that. They already know we sleep together sometimes, they have to know we, ya know… are allowed to let it flow into days that aren’t our birthdays…” you swallow the words down, feeling so anxious that she may take them the wrong way, or hate them altogether.
“You think they’d make fun of us?” she asks, her mouth kissing behind your ear.
“Oh yeah, they would. But, I’d be there to slap the fuck out of them if they embarrass you,” you respond, squeezing your hands into her hips.
Her tongue is tickling the sensitive skin around your ear as she lays tiny pecks near your hairline. “I think I’d be okay with a little flirting… sometimes it almost happens naturally, anyway,” she says, making your heart rate soar again.
“Really?”
She nods, coming up to face you now, her cheeks tinted the palest pink. “Mmhm, sometimes I have to stop myself from touching you in front of them. You know, just innocently.”
You swallow hard, knowing the exact feeling all too well. When you’re surrounded by your friends making dinner or whatever it may be, you’ve found yourself having to stop your hand from grazing across her lower back as you walk by, from leaning down to kiss her cheek, anything, all the time. She’s right, it does feel natural to want to do that.
“I do, too, actually,” you admit. “You… It feels normal to me. Just a reflex.” You buck your hips up into her as you speak, your body begging you for some contact.
The whimper that leaves her chest ignites that deep carnal instinct inside you, wanting, needing to connect yourself with her again. You gather the soft fabric of her dress in your hands, signaling to her that you want to pull it off. She lifts her arms above her head, allowing you easy access to tear it all the way off of her. As her hair cascades back down over her shoulders you realize that her dress didn’t require a bra. So, you’re left staring at her left only in her thong, her breasts sitting more perfectly than you remember them. “You’re so gorgeous, Y/N, I swear…” you grit, raking over her body with your eyes.
She hops off of your lap, motioning with one finger for you to stand. When you follow her order, she falls to her knees, working her fingers to unbutton your jeans. “Fuck, wait,” you say. Her eyes glance up at you through her eyelashes. “Pull your hair back.”
She does as you say, pulling her hair into a ponytail at her neck while you undo your jeans with one swift movement. She gets done with her hair quickly, swatting your hand away and pulling your zipper down. “Take them all the way off, Danny,” she demands, and the backs of your knees hit the mattress as you lean over, kicking them and your underwear off one leg at a time. You kick them to the side as she walks on her knees closer to you, taking your already over-hard dick in her right hand, licking her lips just a little before she swirls her tongue around the tip. Everything had just happened really fast, her urgency making your blood pump. Her tongue flattened out against you, and she pressed you all the way to the back of her throat, almost making your knees buckle under you.
She grabs your hand, pulling it toward the back of her head. You take the signal and wrap your hand around her hair just as her lips meet your base, and you hold her there, feeling the saliva already beginning to pool in her mouth. “God damnit, baby, fuck you’re so good at this. Don’t even need my help…” You loosen your grip and allow her to drag her lips across your shaft, adding hard suction as she slowly ascends off.
“Want your help, though. Do it…” she motions, so you do. You use her ponytail to guide her up and down you, forcefully pushing and pulling on her head just like she likes it. The first time you did this, you were a bit thrown off, as you’ve always just let whoever was pleasing you do whatever they felt. But she likes it when you tell her when and where you want her to be.
The candles are physically heating up the air in the room, providing a heat that feels like a heavy blanket on your skin. Your mind flashes with remembering the special candles, and you feel a spark of excited electricity shoot through your body. The baby hairs around her face are beginning to stick to her forehead as her eyes glance up to look at you, doelike and pleading.
She hums onto your dick as you squeeze her cheeks together, taking a hard hold on her jawline as your opposite hand guides her motions. Your head falls back as you feel the knot tightening in your stomach, but you can’t let go just yet. Her tongue swirls around your tip and the sounds that her mouth is making sound downright ruthless, spurring on your albeit degraded current situation.
She moans onto you as her lips pull on and off, all by the force of your hand. You pull her hair particularly roughly, watching as the string of saliva connects her mouth to you, still. You take the second to sit down on the bed, physically unable to stand for another second without losing all will to hold yourself up. She moves in closer and digs her nails into the soft skin between your legs, sending a shake through your body. “Mother fucker baby, keep going with that…” you say, biting your bottom lip as you watch her. She scratches at your skin a few more times before you finally decide you can’t take it anymore, pulling and pushing on her head at a quicker pace.
“Mhmm…” she moans as she nods her head ‘yes’, and you feel the deep rumble in your stomach, telling you that you’re not far. She kisses her lips down tightly on you this time, flicking her tongue in all the right places as you feel her throat tightening around you.
“So fuckin’ deep baby, shit…” you say as your hips jut forward a few times, your dick hitting the back of her throat. Suddenly you feel your world falling apart as you let go into her, the dim orange light of the room turning into flashes of black and white as you send your streams down her throat. You wrap her hair around your hand as you hold her just where you want her, pulling her closely into you as you hiss through your release.
When you finally take a breath and your vision unblurs, you watch as she wipes her chin with the back of her hand, standing to her feet again and joining you on the bed, a completely smug and satisfied look on her face.
“The fuck are you grinning about, huh?” you ask, pulling her in toward you again.
“Nothin’, I just really love being the one to make you make noises like that,” she says, biting back another smile.
“Well, you’ve got me figured out, seriously,” you compliment her, and it was the absolute truth.
She shrugs you off. “Eh, I’m out of practice, really.”
Oh?
“No way, you’re like… well seasoned,” you kid.
“You dick!” she yells, stifling a laugh. “I haven’t even done that in six months.” You can tell she regretted saying it as soon as she did, suddenly avoiding your eyes and pulling one of your pillows up to cover her chest.
“...You’re kidding,” you breathe, truly in disbelief.
She shakes her head. “Lame, huh?”
“N-no, not lame. I–You haven’t, since…?” you stammer.
“Nope. Since your birthday. Go ahead, laugh at me all you want,” she says, motioning with her hand.
Her words hit you right in the gut. She hadn’t been with anyone since you��
“I’m not gonna laugh at you, Y/N. I… I actually haven’t been with anyone else, either.”
Her eyes meet yours in disbelief. “Really?”
You nod. “Not this time around.”
She sits for just a second, hugging the pillow to her. “Why not?”
You shrug, the nerves bubbling in your stomach. “I dunno, no one’s really…struck my interest. Not enough to bring back home, anyway.”
She pulls one shoulder up toward her ear. “Yeah, mine neither. I’ve…tried, ya know, but.” She swallows. “My birthday is my favorite holiday for a reason.”
You can’t stop the joy that rises in your chest, your extremities tingling and your heart beating in your ears as she basically admits she doesn’t enjoy anyone but you. She hasn’t made it work with anyone else in six months.
“Six months is a long time to wait, Y/N,” you mutter quietly.
She pulls the pillow down, moving closer to you on the bed. “Not when what you’re waiting for is all you can ever think about.”
Fuck… it feels like your head is going to float right off of your shoulders out of a pure high at her admission. Your chest gets warm and your mouth goes dry, and you swear if you were looking in the mirror, there would be stars in your eyes.
She feels the same.
After a few seconds of disbelief, you find the nerve to answer her, a hardly audible whisper as you bring your face close to hers. “I think I’d wait for you for fifty years, if you wanted me to…”
Her hand cups your jawline as she grits her teeth, pulling you into her again. Your mouth wants to devour her all over again, but instead you take note of the tender moment, laying a sweet kiss to her lips that has a promise behind it.
Her eyebrows furrow together when you pull away, a look you’re familiar with but also one that told you she’s confused. She opens her mouth to speak, probably to ask you if what you’d just said is true. But nothing comes out. She just stares at you in disbelief.
Your hand finds her hip as you yank her body in with a little force, almost nose to nose now.
“Yeah, you heard me right. I’d wait for you, I will wait for you, if that’s what you want me to do…” you say, feeling so anxious for the outcome of this conversation you could almost be sick. It’s either going to end really really well, or so badly that you’d end up alone in bed tonight. But the risk outweighs the outcome, and you are ready and prepared to take it, whatever it might be.
She swallows hard as you watch her eyes become glazed. Her hands are balancing around your neck and across your shoulders, and you can feel the heat rising in her palms as her digits nervously fidget. It feels like a hundred years pass in the time you wait for her to respond, and you contemplate taking it all back. Making up an excuse, saying just kidding, we’re just friends… But the panic stops as soon as she finds her words.
She shakes her head. “Wait for me… you’d, you wanna actually…?”
“Be with you more than just twice a year? Yeah, Y/N, I really would. You– you kinda have held a really special place for a long, long time now.” You swallow again, letting the words you’ve kept pent up for so long finally flow, but still feeling a little embarrassed by the admission. “I just never said anything, ya know, because of our arrangement. It worked so well for us but. I… I don’t know. It feels like more to me, lately.”
She nods hard again, a tiny smile crossing her lips as her eyes stay trained on yours. But she stays quiet.
“Can you say something, Y/N?” you ask through a huffed laugh.
“It is more, Danny. It’s been more to me for a long time, too. You take up more space in my mind than I’d like to admit,” she says, now avoiding eye contact.
Wow… finally. Finally, there it is.
“Why do we both deny it?” you whisper.
She shrugs, massaging the back of your neck. “I don’t know. But I don’t really want to anymore.”
You wrap your arm around her torso, pulling her weight from underneath her as you lay her flat on her back.
“Then we don’t,” you say as you tower over her, the candle light flickering in her eyes and off of her skin. Her body is beautiful, there’s no denying that, but what has always gotten you is how she carries herself…how her body language is always reflective of exactly what she’s feeling in the moment. And right now, as her midsection arches up into you begging you to touch her again, you have no other thoughts than to appease her.
Your mouth travels down her chest and across her belly, leaving long, lingering kisses across her body. As you get closer and closer to her heat, you move to kneel on the floor just as she had for you earlier, slipping your hands underneath her to pull her to the edge. Even in all your wild, drunken sexual adventures with her, for some reason, you’d never concentrated on this. You’d never gone down on her. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to, as it was one of your favorite activities, but the immediate pull to one another on these nights always ended up with getting straight to the good part. Neither of you really ever left time for the embellishments.
She perks up onto her elbows as she gazes at your face between her legs. “Danny…”
“Let me show you what I mean, baby,” you more ask than say, running your tongue down the inside of her thigh. Her body stiffens as she still gives you that look of hesitation. Your tongue drifts over her opening as you tease her, barely ghosting overtop of everywhere but her sweet spot. She shudders again. “Unless you don’t want me to…”
“No! No I want you to. Please. You’ve just…” she finally relaxes her head back down.
“I know I haven’t. And that’s on me. But I wanna show you that I’ve been thinking about this, doing just this since the last time I had you…” you explain, finally delving your tongue deeply into her. Her reaction is immediate, her back arching up again as her hands find your hair. The sounds she makes make you strain to keep it together, and the taste of her finally on your tongue is enough to make you want to stop altogether, and get to the good part, but you savor this instead, realizing you’ve wanted her like this for so long.
You squeeze your lips over her, inching your tongue languidly inside of her and moving it back up to circle her clit. When you finally find it, she squeals, exhaling as her hands rip into your scalp. You glance to the head of the bed, pulling down a pillow and positioning it underneath her back to get a better angle. Your hands snake under her again, squeezing her ass as you pull her in.
“Fuck Danny, why did you hold back on this for so long?” she asks through a pant, her legs opening and closing over your ears. “Shit…” You realize that you don’t really have an answer.
She’s writhing and fighting herself, and you can tell she’s nearing the peak, until she backs off again, likely wanting to make this last. She hums and purrs as you work over her clit, using your tongue and lips to kiss every single drenched inch of her. You feel like you can’t get enough, until you remember. Her birthday gift.
You slow things down, pulling away a bit until you see the disgruntled look on her face at the disconnect. “No, don’t stop… don’t go..” she begs. Her expression is desperate, and you want nothing more than to feel her lose herself at the mercy of your mouth. So you dive back in, this time with a purpose.
“‘M not goin’ anywhere, baby,” you manage through kneads of your tongue against her. You bring your arm up between the two of you, using your elbow and hand to press her legs apart while your free hand’s two middle digits enter her again. Your tongue never lets up, circling and swirling furiously as her muscles tense. You take that as your cue to work harder, feeling her clenching around your hand already. You pump in and out of her again, making sure your tongue is pointed exactly where she needs it.
“Fuck, Danny baby… yes…” she breathes, and the pet name sends a shockwave straight to your dick, hearing her utter your name followed by a word so personal. You cup your lips over her clit, using a quick and harsh suction motion as you flick your tongue across it.
When she finally lets go, her cries and slurs of curses echo through your room, the most beautiful sound you’re sure you’ve ever heard. Her hands stay tangled in your locks, forcing your face into her as close as you can get. You savor it all, the sight, the sound, the taste… you wonder why you ever denied yourselves this piece of the puzzle after all this time, but then again, maybe saving something this intimate for right now is exactly what was supposed to happen.
Her body jolts and shakes as she lets the pleasure wrack through her, and you devour every last bit. You crawl up her once she opens her eyes again, her hand freeing from your hair and back down to your face, pulling across your cheeks and mouth as she wipes her wetness from you. Her voice is strained as she finally speaks. “Fuck that was…”
“Fucking delicious,” you finish, pressing your lips to hers again, making her nod into you.
“Yeah, fucking delicious,” she agrees, wrapping her legs around you and using the leverage to pull you onto her. If you weren’t rock hard before, you surely are now after witnessing her falling apart for you like that. You can tell she’s already ready to get things going again, but you stop her, pulling away like you had done before. You stand from the bed, watching that same look of disappointment come across her features.
“Don’t look at me like that, just wanna give you your birthday gift,” you say, walking around the bed to your nightstand. You grab the cake and place it carefully into your lap, grabbing the lighter again as she comes and sits beside you.
“I already blew out my candles, Danny,” she says, balancing her chin on your shoulder.
“You did, but I didn’t tell you that these are special candles. Not meant to be blown out,” you explain, flicking the lighter to life and igniting them both.
“Not meant to be blown out? Why–”
“Because they’re really an oil,” you say, putting the lighter down and grabbing the plastic tray under the cake again, holding it up between you. “These are candles specially made for us to let melt and drip onto each other. Not like regular wax, these don’t burn as hot. Once they start to melt a little, they turn into a body oil.”
“Like a massage oil?” she asks, and you nod.
“Mmhm, see, you can already smell the lavender and bergamot. They had birthday cake scented, but. I thought that might be overkill,” you smirk. Her eyes drift down to the candles with intrigue, and she bites her bottom lip in. “We don’t have to, if you don’t want to. But, I’ve heard good things…”
She picks up one of the candles from the cake, carefully licking the icing off the bottom. She holds her opposite hand out palm down, and lets the melty wax oil drip down onto the back of her hand, a few droplets of dark red liquid dripping down between her fingers.
“Doesn’t burn at all,” she says, reaching to grab the cake from you to set on the table again. She then takes your hand, letting the wax drip down onto your hand, too.
The sensation is more of an extremely warm electrical pulse than the burn you’d expect, and it quickly dulls as the oil cools. It doesn’t harden like normal wax, instead it just turns into a thick oil. You take your other finger and rub it across your skin, feeling the softness of the lotion-like liquid sink into your skin. “Wow, no, it feels good,” you agree.
“Lay back,” you suggest, and she does, handing the candle off to you.
You question the situation, not knowing exactly where to drip the oil to make her feel the best. You assume maybe her chest and stomach, maybe even down her legs, if she feels up to it. You hold the candle directly above her sternum, raising your eyebrows in final question before you let it drip.
“Yeah, go ahead,” she says, her hand landing on your knee.
The red liquid finally falls through the air, a singular drop that lands and splatters across her chest. Her mouth opens just a little, but then her surprise quickly turns into a devious smirk. “Feel good?” you ask.
“Aha, yeah, actually. It burns pretty bad for a split second but it goes away…shit, do more,” she pleads.
You go along with her request, drizzling tiny drops between her breasts and down her stomach, nearly completely coating her in the oily liquid.
“You sure you like it?” you ask as you watch her face repeatedly turn from a surprised grimace into a devilish look of satisfaction. Thankfully, that second look, you’re more than familiar with.
“Yessss…” she hisses as another drop falls onto her skin. “I feel so…” her mouth lies open as you continue letting the oil drip and pool, the floral scent filling your nostrils.
“So what?” you ask.
Her eyes bore into yours as she bites her lips between her teeth, her hand still gripping hard into your leg muscle. “I like the pain. It’s like… I don’t know how to explain it…” she breathes. “Like a sensation I don’t want to ever end.”
You take your free hand and gently massage it in, taking time to work over her nipples and stomach. “God, that feels so good…” she whispers, her hand now digging into the muscle of your thigh. You place the candle back on the cake, turning to pay special attention to rubbing your hands over her muscles.
The heady scent of the oils mixed with the residual alcohol still flowing through your system brings a whole new dizziness to the atmosphere, and you feel as though the whole situation is only becoming heavier. You reach over to your phone sitting on the night stand, and flip your music to some psychedelic playlist. The distorted guitar and scratchy bass sounds bring you both to a new plane, and you take the moment to recognize the woman you have your hands on, and how she feels underneath them.
Her eyes flutter open and closed as your hands drift, massaging the soft oils across the mountains and valleys of her body. “You want me to do you?” she asks, eyes flicking back to the candle.
You shake your head. “No, shh. It’s your birthday, just relax.”
She smiles a little as she gets comfortable again, moving her body a little closer to yours on the bed. Your hands travel up her shoulders and neck, slowly kneading the tense muscles. Then you move on to her hips and waist, squeezing at the thickness of her. You feel yourself getting turned on all over again just by touching her this way. You watch as her hands drift across the tops of her legs, gripping at her own thighs. The visual is almost too much, watching as her fingertips pull at her skin. You reach to grab the still-lit candle, adjusting your body to sit beside her legs.
“‘M gonna try your legs, that okay?” you ask.
“Yeah, go ahead…” she mumbles, her eyes still rolling around behind her eyelids. You move between her legs and let the wax drip onto her inner thighs, not really caring if any lands on your comforter. “Ffff…” she hisses, biting onto her bottom lip. Her face contorts from pain to pleasure as the oil cools, and you replace the candle, making your way back to massaging her.
Your hands nearly cover the entirety of her upper thighs, your fingertips digging into the skin just as hers had done a second ago. You push the oil all around, paying special attention to start at her knees, and slowly work your way up. You have half a mind to lick into her again, seeing it now from this view, but you stop yourself. Your thumbs rub into the creases where her legs meet her heat, and she practically moans out at your touch.
“You’re being such a fuckin’ tease, Daniel,” she says, her hands cupping her breasts.
“Mmm, I don’t think you understand how hard it is to stop myself right now…” you huff.
She bites her lips again and shakes her head side to side, obviously feeling the same emotions as you. This doesn’t feel like it normally does, and you feel more anxiety than ever to satisfy her. You watch as she reaches her hands for you, signaling for you to get things going.
“Don’t stop yourself then,” she stutters, her voice almost shuddering. Her hand grips into your hair again and pulls you up, your hands crawling up either side of her as her nails claw and pull at your back.
Suddenly your mind finds itself again as you remember to grab protection. You balance your forehead on her sternum, both of you already panting and sweaty as you pull yourself away to reach for your bedside drawer.
“No, just—it’s fine,” she says, grabbing onto your arm.
You meet her with a puzzled look, not quite understanding that she’s changing her mind on a whim. This is one part of your agreement that you both have always stuck to.
“What? I’m—“
“Just…it’s fine. Don’t get it,” she says, giving you a look that could kill. “It’s been six months…right…”
You think it over, rolling the thought over and over in your mind. “You sure?”
She nods, “Yeah, yeah I’m sure. I’m…we’re good. I promise.”
You feel your heart growing in your chest, feeling a new wave of anxiousness and…something else bubbling up. It’s almost blinding you to even think about what’s about to take place, this already feels so different than before.
The slick of the oil across your chests make your bodies slide against one another as you line yourself up, both hands on either side of her head. Her hands gently drift across your hips, a devilish smirk sneaking across her lips.
“Gonna feel you for real for the first time…” she says gently, looking more excited than you’d seen her in ages.
“Yeah, no pressure,” you answer, pressing yourself through her folds. The sensation alone is making you quake, feeling her against you without a barrier.
“What, you nervous or something?” She asks, digging her nails into your scalp.
You clench your jaw, feeling the tip enter her just a little bit. “Kinda.”
“Daniel…shut up. No you’re not.”
“I swear,” you reply, pressing in just a little more. “Different now, like this.” You feel your heart beating from your ribcage.
Her hands grip behind you, pulling you in towards her, but you hold back. “S’okay, just me… please…” Her legs lift and her ankles cross at your lower back.
You push forward, telling yourself it’s okay to fill her all the way to the hilt. It’s now or never, and you’ve waited so long for this, wanted her for real for so long. You make sure to watch her face as you bottom out, taking in every single detail that you can.
HER POV
It’s almost dreamlike…
The dim and comforting glow of the room, the sweet scented oil that’s relaxed your muscles, the dying feeling of excitement from the gift Danny had gotten you…
But mostly, the feeling of his body towering over you and buried as deeply as he can get, finally without the use of protection.
You’d been wanting Danny for real for longer than you’d like to admit, now, and now that it’s finally happening, it’s almost as if you couldn’t have dreamt it up any better. Of course he feels nervous…you do too. Something in the air has shifted, and it’s not just because you both had finally admitted to wanting more than your predisposed agreement.
“Fuck, Danny…” you can’t help but yelp in a pitiful high-pitched squeal. Feels just like you always thought, but somehow better.
Much, much better.
He begins to pick up a pace after you lock your ankles against him harder, forcing his hips to find a rhythm. “You good?” he asks, almost shyly.
“Yeah, better than good, shit…”
His left hand grips your jaw with a little force before he brings his lips to yours in a heated mess. His thrusts are working in perfect time, hitting you in just the right spot to tighten the knot deep inside you already.
“You feel so perfect baby…god, never thought I’d have you like this…” his lips are hot against your skin as he speaks, his teeth nipping at your sensitive spots every few seconds.
“Leave a mark, baby… gimmie a reminder…” you breathe into his ear, making the light nips on your chest switch into slightly painful lovebites that you’re positive you’ll be able to see turn into bright red marks tomorrow. He growls into your skin as his teeth sink in just enough to make you squirm beneath him.
Though the room is flickering with a tangerine glow, the multicolored vibrance of the light flashing behind your eyes brings a whole new depth to what you’re experiencing, an overwhelming feeling of unwarranted pleasure that is undoubtedly ripping you apart at the seams. He’s all you’ve ever wanted, better than anything you’ve ever felt, and he’s been living under the same roof as your best friend for way too long.
You can tell he’s getting closer by the tumbling of his thrusts, but you swear you never want it to end. The euphoria taking over your mind is making you dizzy.
Suddenly he slows down a little bit, rolling himself to the bed but keeping himself inside as he plucks you to straddle his lap. Your hands find his pecs as you begin swirling your hips, feeling him at a completely different angle, now. His curls are laid out behind him on the white blankets, and his chest is gleaming from the oils.
You begin bouncing on him, his hands gripping into the thick muscle of your thighs as you grind on him. His head leans back, his jaw moving between hanging open and clenching tightly. “Y/N, shit…I’m not gonna be…”
You can feel the twist in your stomach, the deep tightening letting you know that you are close, too. You lean down and press a slow and needing kiss to his lips, showing him all the emotion that’s currently coursing through your body in the act. “Me too baby, just do it. Want to feel you…” you stammer through the ravaging feeling of your impending orgasm. You squeeze him hard, sending you both over the edge, tumbling down together in a flustered mess of echoed praises for one another.
He stays buried inside you for just a few seconds as you both come down, neither of you wanting to be the first to speak when you finally catch your breath. After a minute of silence, you let yourself come out of the cloudy bliss, sliding yourself up and off of him.
As soon as your body hits the bed beside him, he’s craning over you again, gathering you up into his arms into the most loving embrace you’d felt from him yet.
“Every six months isn’t gonna work for me anymore, Y/N…” he admits, fully submitting himself with an honest look in his eye. “I just…”
“Me neither, Danny. It’s not enough. Won’t ever be enough,” you admit, taking his face in your hands. And it was true, after experiencing him tonight in the way that you did, there was no way you’d ever be able to wait for him again. There’s too much emotion involved that you’ve both been hiding for too long. Too much still yet to explore.
“Stay, please? And not just for tonight,” he whispers, his thumb gliding across your cheek.
You nod. You know there’s nothing on this earth you want more than to wake up every day next to him…the friend who has always been just a little bit more.
“Okay,” you concede, sliding your body into his.
“Okay? Yeah?” He asks with an excited lilt.
“Yes. I’m not going anywhere,” you respond. “Couldn’t leave you if I wanted to...”
The low chuckle that rumbles through his chest and onto your cheek pressed against it feels so longingly familiar that you wonder why you ever thought it wouldn’t work out to begin with. “What took you so long?” he asks, wrapping and squeezing you hard.
“Could ask you the same…” you laugh into his chest.
You fall asleep with him that night a different woman than the one you were when you walked into his room, and not just because you’re a year older, now. You’d finally gotten everything you’d ever wanted.
Danny nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, sleep already lacing his voice. A soft feeling of comfort washes over you as you realize how safe and protected you feel in his arms, and how you aren’t too shy to admit that this feels more right than you could have ever anticipated.
Now you won’t have to wait six months to share your love with him again. You’ll be able to share it with him tomorrow, over coffee in the kitchen.
He presses a sweet kiss to your temple as you let the heaviness of sleep overtake you, already falling into a dazed place of complete contentment.
“Happy birthday, baby.”
.
Taglist:
@wetkleenex-gvf @britney-gvf @gretas-sweat @josh-iamyour-mama @highway-tuna @bestfriendsallstrungout @jjwasneverhere @gretavanbrie @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @myleftsock @edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep @jjsooobsessed @ageofcj @starcatcher-jake @capnjaket @cozyjakey @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @stardustjake @dancingcarbon @builtbybrokenbells @gretavangroupie
#greta van fleet#greta van fleet fan fiction#greta van fleet smut#greta van smut#greta van fic#danny wagner#sam kiszka#daniel robert wagner#greta van fluff#gvf smut#gvf fic#gvf#sam gvf#gvf danny#sam kiszka gvf#jacob kiszka#jake kiszka#jacob thomas kiszka#Samuel kiszka#gretavanfluff#dannygvf#jake gvf#jake kiska fic#jake kiskza x reader#jake kiskza smut#Jacob kiszka smut#danny gvf
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omg can you write Sarah best friend!reader, and rafe and reader pretend to hate each other in front of all they’re friends but behind close doors they are like friends with benefits
this is kinda different from what you asked! hope you still like <3 rafe teases reader a ton bc he wants her sooo bad idk i added a little smut so I guess that’s a warning!!!!!
“gimme that back, rafe!” you shouted.
“y/n, if you keep drinking, you will be a fucking mess like you always are,” rafe said in a sarcastic tone, snatching the drink out of your hand.
“sarah, tell him to give it back to me. your brother’s the worst,” you exclaimed.
you never understood why he was always so mean to you but never to your other friends. sarah and all your friends laughed at how much rafe would annoy you. it was like you and rafe’s weird friendship had become a norm that everyone was used to and would laugh at. he never wanted to be mean to you, but he literally couldn’t help it. rafe found you so pretty and cute, just the lovely, kind girl who was attached to sarah’s hip. he never knew how to approach you. his shyness turned into meanness every time he was in your presence.
“don’t you have your own pool, y/n? seriously, all your tanning oil is clogging up our drains!” he actually loved the tanning oil that would make your perfect skin glisten when he would watch you roll around in the sun, trying to hide his hard on.
topper laughed, “why are you always so mean to y/n? she’s literally the nicest out of all of sarah’s friends!”
rafe rolled his eyes, knowing deep down he was only mean to you because he couldn’t have you. you thought he was so dumb and annoying, but cute.
sarah went to bed. you couldn’t sleep, kind of annoyed by the way rafe was treating you. he was always mean to you, but extra mean today. you were mean to him too, but never could keep up with his cruelty. you stayed up watching your favorite show, jersey shore.
“this snooki girl is just as annoying as you, y/n!” he said as he threw himself down on the couch a little too close to you.
“rafe, i think i’m running out of shut ups to throw at you,” you replied.
the silence in the big tannyhill living room became awkward.
“you know i like you, y/n?” he blurted out.
you laughed, “you’re kinda funny sometimes, you know that?”
“no, i’m fucking serious. i want you so bad,” rafe stated with a strict look.
for a moment, you were taken aback. his eyes bore into yours with an intensity you hadn’t seen before. you realized he wasn’t joking. your heart raced, and you could feel the tension building between you two.
“okay, this is… weird. what about sarah?” you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips.
“i don’t give a fuck about sarah,” rafe said angrily.
before you could say anything else, rafe leaned in and kissed you. it was rough at first, a release of all the pent-up frustration and desire.
his hands roamed over your body, tugging at your clothes impatiently. you helped him, eager to feel his skin against yours. when he finally pushed himself inside you, it was raw and passionate, a collision of need and longing. you gasped at the sensation, your nails digging into his back as he moved inside you.
“rafe,” you whispered, your voice filled with need.
“i’ve wanted this for so long,” he murmured against your skin.
afterward, you lay next to him, both of you breathing heavily.
“you’re not so bad when you’re not being a dick, rafe,” you teased.
he rolled his eyes, pulling you closer, not wanting to let go of you. “yeah, well, maybe this changes a few things.”
#rafe cameron#rafe smut#outer banks#drew starkey#rafe x reader#dark rafe x reader#kook!reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#outerbanks rafe#rafe obx#outer banks pogues#rafe imagine#rafe cameron x pogue!reader#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe outer banks#rafe x oc#rafe x you#dark!rafe cameron#dark!fanfiction#dark!fic#dark!rafe#x reader#pogues for life#pogue#new writers on tumblr#jj maybank#Jj#sarah cameron
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kind of seems like the main reason people dislike TME/TMA is because they don’t think transmascs have privilege over transfems (which. we do). kinda funny to hear all these people be like “listen to trans people when they talk about their experiences with oppression” because they mean “listen to transmascs when we say we experience transmisogyny” and not “listen to transfems when they say we don’t understand the level of transmisogyny they face their entire life”
You’re correct that people take issue with the idea transmascs have privilege over transfems, but the main reason people dislike tme/tma in my experience is that it’s an inaccurate binary. People have more complex experiences with transmisogyny than it covers. An intersex person afab who grows facial hair may not be the intended target of transmisogyny but most certainly isn’t exempt either. Nobody is really fully exempt from any system of oppression, so it’s just not accurate. I don’t have a problem with the term tma to describe people who experience abundant transmisogyny, it’s tme I take issue with because yeah, it does talk over other people (not just transmascs, many people including cis perisex and intersex folks) about their real lived experiences with transmisogyny. And it is used for exactly what you’re acknowledging here: to say that everyone “tme” has privilege over everyone “tma.” That’s not how it works. Transmisogyny is awful but so are exorsexism and transandrophobia, from which binary trans women are exactly as exempt as non-transfems are from transmisogyny. Trans people do not have gendered privilege over each other. That is why so many people take issue with tma being used to say that transfems have it the worst of all queer people. Whatever happened to not engaging in oppression olympics? Why are we measuring privilege not based on the reality we see (transmascs having similar negative outcomes to transfems in many areas while having unique issues in other regards) but on trying to apply cis man & woman dynamics to the complex trans community?
#transandrophobia#transmisogyny#exorsexism#intracommunity issues tag#ask#mine#long post#tme/tma binary
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Skinny
Pairing: bf!Chris sturniolo x Reader
Wordcount: 700
Summary: you talk to your boyfriend about the internet (literally just the song skinny, by Billie Eilish)
Warnings: really short, angst(?), body image, the internet, hurt/comfort (?), direct quotes, idfk
(Litterally wrote this during a 1h car trip, so it’s rlly short. I was listening to the song while writing this. Hope you guys like it tho <3)
I recently met the triplets in LA. We quickly became friends, but I always felt drawn to Chris the most.
Sure they’re all considerably hot, but there was just something about Chris that made me feel something..
Turns out I wasn’t the only one that felt it, and soon enough Chris confessed to me. Wich meant a lot, considering he has commitment issues, but he was willing to commit… for me?
We dated for a while until I realized,
I fell in love for the first time.
I may only be 20, but those 20 years felt so eternally long. Chris was everything I’d been waiting for all my life, being the hopeless romantic.
I started to go to the gym more often, and eat healthier. Not for any other reason then, I was happy.
I also started to notice that Chris’ Pepsi habits got better, and he started to eat healthier as well.
We were talking one day, both of us sitting on opposite sides of Chris’ bed.
“People say I look happy, just because I got skinny.” I sigh.
The only reason why I look happier is because I have a working healthy relationship, because I’m in love. Not because my body changed.
Chris tilts his head to the side his eyes slightly furrowed as if asking me if I’m serious.
But the ‘old’ me was still me. Maybe even the real me, my actual personality when I’m on my own, And I think she is pretty.
I never really had body image issues. I never struggled with eating.
I got famous pretty young, like 17 or so. And back then I was a kid, of corse I liked to eat. I wasn’t even that big really. I was just a kid, I didn’t care about it too much.
I’m not magically happier than I was before. I still cry.
“People say I’m acting my age now.” I sigh. “Am I already on the way out, am I ‘falling off’?”
Chris tilts his head not saying anything just trying to process my words. As if my words are outlandish to him.
“I feel like a bird in a cage, you know. With all these expectations and rumors.” I sigh softly. All these things have been bugging me for a while.
“I’m sorry.” He looks at me with not pitty but understanding. “You were my secret,” when we started dating we hadn’t told the internet. “- and I didn’t get to keep it”
But like couples do we would go out on dates. With both of us being touchy people, PDA was big. But a random fan took a picture of us kissing and it spread like wildfire.
I sigh heavily at the memories. How betrayed I had felt by those so called fans looking into my business.
“The internet is hungry for the meanest kind of funny, and somebody’s gotta feed it.” I purse my lips closing my eyes briefly.
“I suppose that’s true” Chris breaths out his eyes locked on mine.
“People really think suddenly all my problems are gone and I’m all happy, not because I’m in a healthy and stable relationship but because i got skinny.” I huff working myself up, and getting angrier and angrier at something that seems like nothing.
“Do you still cry?” I ask rhetorically, my previous breathy and small voice now loud and clear. “I mean I do.” I reply to my own question.
I look at my boyfriend and the way he looks back at me with such understanding.
We look at each other in silence. “I love you. And I’ve loved you for so long. And that’s not going to change.”
Chris says firmly a small gentle smile forming on his lips. Chris opens his arms waiting for me to come to him.
I’m not upset per se, it’s just annoying seeing people comment on my body and happiness and whatnot. It’s none of their business.
I’m a content creator. I didn’t ask for them to criticize me.
I sit up shuffling over to Chris. I let myself fall into his embrace.
But in Chris’, the love of my life’s arms, like this, it doesn’t matter anyway.
Masterlist
A/N: hope you guys like this style of writing. If h goys want to be on the taglist comment. Asks & requests are open 💕
‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️
Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life , @h3arts4harry , @whosthislyssbitch , @jamiesturniolo , @sturniololover-09 , @zayyluvz , @sturnzsblog
#Spotify#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#chris sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x y/n#chris sturniolo x you#chris x reader#christopher sturniolo x reader#sturniolo smut#christopher sturniolo smut#sturniolo fluff#sturniolo angst#matthew sturniolo x reader#sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#matthew sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo#christopher sturniolo x reader smut#matt sturniolo x you#sturniolo fanfic#billie eilish
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Ok let’s talk all things Bridgerton.
First things first, we’ve all binged it the day that it came out, right?
Second, Nicola Coughlan the woman that you are.
Now let’s move on to the serious stuff.
I have to say that so far I’m liking this season but there are some things that I really don’t understand, namely all the subplots. Some of them should’ve either been cut or they should’ve had less screen time. I understand for example the introduction of Francesca and John because of how their story plays out in the future but what about the Mondriches? Don’t get me wrong I like their characters and their chemistry but I really don’t get why they’re such a prominent part of this season, hopefully their presence will be justified in part 2 for it would be heartbreaking to see unnecessary hate towards them.
Another aspect I liked is Eloise and Cressida’s friendship. In the beginning I didn’t think it would be something genuine but turns out that El does actually come to care for Cressida, who is finally not just relegated to being the mean girl.
Kate and Anthony are a dream to watch on screen, their chemistry is out of this world and they most definitely deserve the long ass honeymoon for god knows how hard these two have worked for their families.
I found Francesca to be such an interesting character and her and John were cute but the side couple that I’m really curious about is Violet and lady Danbury’s brother.
The Featheringtons were a highlight of this season to me. They had no business being this funny. Every time a scene with them came on I was prepared to laugh.
Queen Charlotte and lady Danbury are such icons you can’t help but love them.
Last but not least, Benedict. My boy what have they done to you? It’s so painfully obvious that they didn’t know what to do with his character because give me a valid reason why his storyline this time around is him going to bed with a widow; I would’ve much rather liked to see him in those artists’ parties or whatever like he did in season one and maybe explore more of that aspect of his personality in preparation for his own season, which hopefully will be next.
Time to talk about the leads:
I wish we could’ve seen more of Colin’s identity crisis but I feel like whenever the script was lacking Luke did a great job compensating with his body language and facial expressions. Also can we all agree that he’s just so whipped for Pen after their first kiss?
As a fellow wallflower I really related to the scenes where Penelope felt frustrated with the ton and all the socialising. I can confirm that even when we get all dolled up and feel confident in our own skin for once it’s still so hard to put ourselves out there. We feel called by the wall and somehow we find it more fascinating to observe all the different dynamics going on around us rather than actively taking part in them, even if sometimes we want to.
The scenes where Pen threw herself on her bed and sighed? Yep, I felt that.
I honestly didn’t mind that Colin and Pen got together by the end of the first part of the season for we’ve been watching the build up to their relationship for three seasons now. These two have been friends for ages so it’s not like they had to go through all that getting to know each other phase. Furthermore, I’m pretty sure that part 2 will focus on the unfolding of the lady whistledown storyline and having Colin and Pen be together makes more sense because now he loves and wants to marry her leading to an even more crushing reveal.
The carriage scene?! I died and resurrected in the span of like 3 minutes, and that’s just their first intimate scene I don’t know what will happen to me with the ones to come.
These were my overall thoughts on Bridgerton season 3. I can’t wait till part 2 comes out but also I will be deep in exam season so it’ll be a wild ride, let’s hope everything turns out for the best.🐝🩵
#bridgerton#polin#bridgerton season 3#kanthony#penelope featherington#colin x penelope#colin bridgerton#romancing mr. bridgerton#carriage scene#netflix#tv shows#tv series#nicola coughlan#luke newton#johnathan bailey#simone ashley#claudia jessie#luke thompson#hannah dodd
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Debunking some misinformation about Hephaestus and Aphrodite’s Marriage
I’m so sick and tired so I’m making a thread, enjoy. I’ll break it down into several points.
1. Hephaestus demanded Aphrodite’s hand in marriage in exchange for Hera’s freedom and Aphrodite was forced into the marriage
You’d be surprised by how this isn’t even attested in ancient sources, rather it’s just a theory made by modern scholars bc of how spotty and limited our knowledge about this marriage is, let’s look at the actual sources:
Notice how Aphrodite isn’t even mentioned mentioned as the “prize”? Hephaestus does ask for a goddess in exchange for freeing Hera, but it’s not Aphrodite, it’s Athena. The usual course of events is this:
Hephaestus is angry at Hera for her mistreatment and sends a golden throne that traps her
The other gods try to persuade him to free her but he refuses
Dionysus convinces him by getting him drunk
Again the theory that Aphrodite was the prize for whoever gets Hephaestus to Olympus is just that, a theory. Not a really good one either bc wouldn’t Aphrodite be married to Dionysus instead? It’s a really shallow portrayal of all figures involved tbh, why would Ares only be interested in freeing his mother if it meant he gets to marry Aphrodite? Why would anyone on Olympus not be worried about their queen being chained up? Believe it or not but Hera isn’t as disliked as one would think lol
Now even if Aphrodite wasn’t a prize how did she end up marrying Hephaestus? And was she forced into doing it? No actually (Lucian’s Dialogue of the gods):
That’s not to say this wasn’t an arranged marriage (it most likely was) but arranged marriage and forced marriage are not the same thing. If you think this is a forced marriage then what about Cadmus and Harmonia? Heracles and Hebe? Both these marriages were arranged by Zeus but no one would claim they’re forced marriages.
2. Aphrodite hated Hephaestus
Now this is more open to interpretation, after all love is subjective, but to say they outright hated each other would be incorrect, there is this myth that Aphrodite cursed Lemnos to have the men abandon their wives and female family members, usually bc they neglected on worshipping her (tho a late Latin source says it’s revenge for exposing her affair).
Apollonius of Rhodes' Argonautica:
However this bit seems to be rather… genuine? Almost as if she might have truly felt bad for what she did and wanted to reconcile, sounds like someone with a deeply messy and complicated relationship with their partner, but not outright hate.
Also there is this moment in Lucian’s Dialogue of the Gods which is pretty funny:
3. Hephaestus only saw Aphrodite as property
Ok I don’t like using the “it was a different time” card but like… it really does apply here lol
Now we’ve already established that Aphrodite was never a prize for Hephaestus to begin with so what about the betrothal gifts he gave to Zeus? Obviously that means he was buying Aphrodite right?
Well, no actually this is a normal part of Ancient Greek marriage (obviously it varied between cities and time periods but it usually goes something like this), the father of the bride and the groom exchange gifts with each other to establish a bond between the two, the bride herself wasn’t the “gift” Zeus’s gift to Hephaestus was most likely his place on Olympus.
To say that Hephaestus bought Aphrodite would mean that Odysseus bought Penelope, or Hector bought Andromache, both are ludicrous claims.
4. Hephaestus is an incel and Ares is this big feminist icon
No, just… no.
Ares was never considered “the protector of women” in Ancient Greece that’s tumblr fanfiction and plenty of other ppl have made posts debunking this (including me) so I won’t repeat that here. Now about Hephaestus being an “incel” all the male Olympians have at least one story where they harm an innocent/defenseless woman, all of them, yes including Ares who persecuted Leto while she was heavily pregnant by Hera’s orders.
5. Aphrodite cheated to “regain her sexuality”
No Patrick, cheating on your disabled spouse with his brother in the bed and palace he made for you is not a girlboss move it’s being an asshole (all the gods are flawed, how thought provoking). Hell, even Zeus wouldn’t pull shit like this with Hera.
Aphrodite and Ares most likely did this hoping it would be the last place anyone would suspect an affair, since Aphrodite could’ve had sex with Ares in his own place or some meadow somewhere but that might cause ppl to be too suspicious.
6. Ares is a big dumb brute who can’t take a hint and only saw Aphrodite for her beauty
Believe it or not, just bc I criticize Aphrodite and Ares doesn’t mean I hate them lol. Now look, all the gods care deeply about looks but that’s not the only thing that Ares and Aphrodite love about each other. Here is Ares being a total simp and actually listening to her:
Iliad book 5
Thebaid book 3
7. Aphrodite felt neglected by Hephaestus bc he’s too busy at the forge
No lol, she straight up works with him at the forge, why wouldn’t she? If anything this claim makes Aphrodite even more shallow than she actually is.
8. Aphrodite and Ares didn’t care about being humiliated in the golden net and Ares straight up brags about cucking his brother
Yes I’ve heard such claims and no Ares and Aphrodite are actually capable of feeling shame lol, almost as if they were in the wrong. Also why would Ares actively antagonize the guy who makes all his stuff? Maybe that’s why Athena keeps beating his ass, bc Hephaestus purposely gives Ares shitty weapons and armor lol
Anyways umm… I think that’s it? Maybe I missed a few things bc I’m frustrated af rn
Just so y’all know, I’m not a scholar I’m just autistic and read a lot lol. I hope I didn’t miss something or get anything wrong.
Have a good day (or night).
#greek mythology#ancient greek mythology#greek pantheon#greek goddess#hephaestus#Aphrodite#ares x aphrodite#aphrodite x hephaestus#aphrodite greek mythology#aphrodite goddess#hephaistos#aglaia#aglaea#zeus#hera#hera goddess#hera deity#hera greek mythology#ares greek god#ares#ares deity#ares god of war#Greek myths#Odysseus#odyssey#greek goddesses#greek myth#greek god#greek gods#Charis
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some comfort soencer agnew :(
It’s okay, you can cry now.
pairing: spencer agnew x fem!reader
a/n: OH WE’RE SO BACK SMOSHYOURHEADIN NATION!! i’ve missed y’all sooo much!!! kinda short but enjoy none the less 🫶 requests are open <3
as you lay on his bed, the sound of raindrops tap against the windows gently as you feel a tear roll down your cheek. his room is softly lit by the glow of the tv which is playing some shitty reality show, with plush blankets and pillows on his bed.
spencer and you met when your friend damien had invited you to be a guest speaker at his ‘funeral’ - where spencer made your sides hurt with how funny he was. from the moment you met him, there was an undeniable chemistry between you. over time, you and spencer started hanging out more, texting and calling, meeting up for coffee before he had to go to work, and you’d also started to convince damien to invite on the channel more often, as an excuse to see him - ian and anthony eventually hiring you to work on art and design.
despite the growing closeness, neither of you ever explicitly acknowledged the romantic tension that occasionally surfaced. your friendship had a mix of intimacy and comfort that neither of you wanted to jeopardize by labeling it. you were each other's confidants, sharing dreams, fears, and everything inbetween.
“hey there, y’okay?” spencer’s voice breaks you from your thoughts, as he walks into his room with two cans of sprite, seeing you blink away tears.
“um, yeah. no. i don’t know” you sit up and wipe your face, sniffling gently, and you cross your legs as he sits to face you on the end of his bed, your knees touching his.
“d’you wanna talk about anything?” he looks into your eyes, gaze soft but firm somehow.
“um,” you look away as you feel more tears forming, a lump creeping into your throat “i just... feel like i'm constantly running, trying to keep up with everything. the videos, the comments, the expectations. it's like... it's never enough, you know?"
spencer nods, his hand moving to rest atop yours. "i get it. this world can be overwhelming. but you don't have to face it alone. we're a team, remember?"
you squeeze his hand, finding a bit of strength in his touch. "i know, it's just... sometimes i feel like i'm letting everyone down. like i'm not good enough."
his eyes soften even more, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache in a good way.
"you're more than enough. you bring so much joy and creativity to everything you do. and it's okay to feel overwhelmed. it doesn't mean you're failing."
you take a shaky breath, feeling the weight of his words. "i guess i just need to hear that sometimes. that it's okay to not be perfect."
spencer shifts closer, his other hand cupping your cheek, thumb gently brushing away a stray tear. "no one expects you to be perfect. especially not me. i just want you to be you. because that's more than enough."
his words break something loose inside you, and the tears start to flow freely. spencer pulls you into a gentle hug, holding you as you let out all the pent-up emotions. his embrace is warm and reassuring, a safe haven from the storm raging inside you. you inhale deeply, and notice he smells like old books and coffee,
“it’s okay, you can cry now” he says into you hair as you sob, his fingers gently brushing through you hair
after a while, you pull back slightly, looking up at him with gratitude. "thank you, spencer. for being here, for understanding."
he smiles, a small, comforting smile. "always. you mean a lot to me, y’know that?"
you nod, a small smile of your own forming. "you mean a lot to me too, spence."
he takes a deep breath, and for a moment, you see something flicker in his eyes.
you move yourself next to him, and lay your head on his shoulder, and he presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, as you close your eyes, feeling content in the moment. the sound of the rain, the flickering light of the tv, and the steady beat of his heart lull you into a sense of calm.
and in that quiet moment, with the rain still pattering against the windows, you know that no matter what the future holds, you'll face it together.
#smoshyourheadin#amanda lehan canto#angela giarratana#courtney miller#arasha lalani#smosh#shayne topp#spencer agnew#spencer agnew x reader
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I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the very heart of me
Dorym Week, Day Two! (we aren't talking about these early EST upload times >.>) Today's work was inspired by the song prompt: "My life was a storm since I was born, how could I fear any hurricane?" ~ Francesca - Hozier
Title is from Aragorn's speech before the black gates because I couldn't help myself XD
I’ll post all my drabbles to AO3 later, but for now enjoy them here on tumblr.
(Beware minor spoilers for Episode 95)
-----
The first thing Orym noticed as he felt the snap of teleportation magic release was the bitter, biting cold.
He thought he was used to the cold; Zephrah’s place above the clouds meant that even the longest summer days were cool and the winters could be brutal. But Zephrah had nothing on the endless expanse of blinding white he saw when he opened his eyes, the air so cold he could feel his breath become brittle before it ever left his mouth.
Suddenly glad for the layers he had bought before leaving Zadash, Orym wrapped his arms tightly across his chest and squinted across the barren landscape. In some deeply unsettling way it reminded him of the desert surface of Ruidus, only cold and pale instead of vibrant bloody red.
Behind him he could hear the murmurs of the rest of the Hells getting their bearings. Well… some were murmuring.
“Fuck! That’s frigid!” Ashton’s voice rose above everyone else for a moment and Orym bit back a laugh.
“I’m not sure what you expected from a snowy wasteland,” drawled Dorian, a familiar lilt to his tone that told Orym he was also holding back humor.
“I mean. Snow. Obviously.” snapped Ashton, though there was little bite to their words. “Shit, godsdamn it… I’m sinking. Fearne can you…”
“Well, if you wanted to climb me like a tree all you had to do was…”
Orym tuned out whatever Fearne said next as a gloved hand landed on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. He looked up into Dorian’s face and felt his heart skip at the small smile he found there. Reaching up, he patted his own mittened hand against Dorian’s. The genasi’s smile widened a fraction before his gaze flicked away to take in the desolate view. Orym watched uneasily as the smile fell into a grim stoicism that was becoming more and more common with his friend.
“When Lady Keyleth said we would be heading to the ruins of Aeor I honestly expected a more visible city,” he said after a moment.
“That is because most of the city is buried,” Essek said, gliding past them to peer into the distance. He turned his head slightly to glance over his shoulder with a small twitch of his lips. “And to avoid scattering our remains across several miles of tundra wasteland I had to teleport us well outside of the crash site. As my dear partner would say: Magic does some… funny things closer to the ruins. ”
“Well that’s good to know,” muttered Dorian under his breath, quietly enough that Orym knew no one else could hear. “It’s not like every single one of us relies on magic to survive or anything.”
Orym squeezed his hand tighter. “It’s alright, Dor. We have each other’s backs if things go wrong.”
“I know. I just…” Dorian let out an explosive sigh, breath a cloud of fog in the frigid air. “It’s strange, I think. To be venturing into the ancient ruins of a city so much like my own childhood home and yet so very alien.”
“It’s alright to be worried,” Orym said. “I think we all are, especially after the last few days.”
Dorian turned to face him fully, pulling his hand away only to kneel in the snow in front of Orym, bringing their eyes level. “I’m not afraid,” he said, taking Orym’s hands in his own. “How could I fear Aeor… how could I fear anything with you by my side?”
Orym ducked his head, breaking the eye contact that made his heart flutter in his throat. “Quite easily, I’d imagine.”
“Maybe,” Dorian’s hand cupped the side of Orym’s cheek, warm through the leather of his glove. “But it won’t be so bad if we face it together.”
“Maybe not,” Orym agreed quietly, letting Dorian lift his face back into eye contact. “We’ve weathered other storms before, how is this any different?”
Eiselcross’s chill might be biting and bitter, but Dorian’s gentle smile warms Orym all the way to his toes. “Because this time I’m not leaving your side.”
#dorym week#day 2: Francesca by Hozier#dorym#dorian storm#orym of the air ashari#my writing#fanfiction#critical role#cr spoilers#kinda#no beta we die like bertrand bell: dick out and unafraid
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started scrolling through candor and ended up rereading the whole thing. here's some things that I noticed that people didn't pick up on/didn't mention in comments (ordered from most interesting (IMO) to least):
chapter arcs & stages of grief
Roughly each of the 7 chapters in Candor embodies a different stage of grief (an extended model from the 5 stage model): shock, denial, anger, bargaining, depression, reconstruction, and acceptance. because grief is inherently messy, these stages are superfluous and sometimes a chapter cycles through multiple of these moods. but, generally, each chapter shines with each stage of grief. (funnily enough, this was not necessarily intentional; I broke up the chapters in terms of vibes and readability, but it turned out quite nicely.)
theme: growth, love, and the unsaid conflict b/t AFO & Yoichi
everyone picked up on the theme of self love, but really the theme is about love despite changing. its about growing up.
you see where this theme shows the failure of love when people grow in two different directions. Yoichi and AFO in chapter 3, for example:
“You lied to me,” All For One snarls. “I told you I would take care of you. I loved you, and you lied to me.”
“The person I loved died the minute you decided to kill for no reason!” Izuku snaps.
All For One reels. “What happened to the Yoichi that cared? What happened to you?”
And:
All For One watches him curiously. “I wonder how many times my adoring little brother will watch you die,” he says simply. “I wonder how long it will take before he realizes it was his fault he changed.”
Versus Yoichi and Izuku in chapter 6:
“When you choose to love somebody, you choose to love a different version of them every day.” Yoichi looks sad. His hair curtains his face more than usual. “Maybe, when you wake up from this simulation, you will not be the same. Maybe the person who went into the simulation isn’t the one who will come out of it.”
Izuku stares.
“If they love you,” Yoichi says, “they will choose to keep loving you.”
“They can’t love someone who doesn’t exist anymore,” Izuku says, defeated.
“It exists, here, in your memories,” Yoichi replies. “And it exists in their memories too.”
it is as blatant a metaphor for growing up as I could get without starting to wax poetry. it's about changing, becoming someone so different that recognizing you is difficult. yes, it is about loving yourself, but its about loving in spite of not being the person you were once comfortable being.
the line 'it exists, here, in your memories' ('it' meaning izuku) is also a little bit funny. izuku is quite literally in his memories when this line is spoken, but he is not the person he wants to be there (he is not who he was before the simulation): instead, he is unrecognizable, monstrous, and lost. it is supposed to be paradoxical. at the same time yoichi says, "it exists here, in your memories", 'it' does not exist in his memories— 'it' is dead. the contradiction lends itself to the theme of growth often being a confusing, uncertain period.
(note that Yoichi is speaking both times here. in chapter 3 he says he loved a person who died (a younger AFO who no longer exists, who didn't kill others). in chapter 6, yoichi says that when you love someone, you choose to love different versions of them as they come. here is as close as yoichi gets to confessing that he loves afo, still, even as he hates him. what makes chapter 3 fascinating is that afo says he loves Yoichi but means it shallowly and obsessively—he means he loves a version of Yoichi that is adoring, repentant, and reliant on afo. yoichi dies with his love completely unmentioned (it's not even in the narration), though it is far more real.)
inspiration from canon
there are a lot of references to the muscular fight, and the first time is when I introduce the readers to warring identities between izuku wanting to flee and wanting to fight (civilian Deku vs. hero Deku). this dialogue is actually directly from canon (the anime, at the very least). watching it inspired that whole part of the fic.
the fourth vestige & theme: perception
less for candor, more for the series in general: people wildly overestimate the 'evilness' or twistedness of izuku's fourth vestige in perception, which is my fault because I made aizawa the POV and the man is notoriously paranoid and harsh. his personal feelings do melt into the narration quite a bit which paint a brutal picture (which I did on purpose but I underestimated how seriously people took aizawa's POV), so ill talk a little bit from behind the scenes. i find the fourth vestige to be cunning, analytical, and sort of the mastermind behind canon!izuku's brains. civilian-izuku can memorize tons of facts, but obviously, he's not much of a planner. he tends to go about things in a very headstrong way, as seen by how he mindlessly throws himself into the simulation. UA izuku (the fourth) is more creative. but much like the other vestiges, he is scared and doesn't want to be left behind. he takes satisfaction when he's seen as a person, a worthy hero, a challenge. as a result, he's much like a peacock, posturing in the way izuku does at UA to seem confident and in control, though pushed to an extreme because its hosted in a single vestige. the line that gets twisted in aizawa's POV the most, I think, is this one, where UA Izuku says this to civilian (Aldera) deku:
UA Izuku holds his hand out to the other. “I don’t want to hurt people any more than you do.” And the lie is so, so smooth.
which, if you think about it for a second, is probably not an unrealistic lie for... well, anyone. civilian Deku would cry if he stepped on a ladybug. here UA izuku is charming, knowing that civilian Deku is twitchy, frightened, and difficult to pin down, and needs to be reassured of UA Izuku's goodness and kindness. UA Izuku, understanding how explosive the other two vestiges are, has to think creatively to minimize conflict and does that by seeking out the one most likely to hurt himself to keep him safe (I find UA izuku would be the least likely). now, would UA izuku be willing to hurt others? probably, if it meant keeping himself and others safe. but that's not an evil value. hence why I titled perception the way I did... not just because more things are happening that were never seen in candor, but also because Aizawa himself, our POV and our muse for the day, brings his own biases to the table.
theme: grief, again
explaining the up-and-downs of each chapter is super complicated and circumstantial, so I wont for all of them, but I wanted to talk about chapter 3 (again! I guess it has my heart). it has a heavy focus on the warmest, most compassionate characters (fifth and seventh). as hinted above, it is also the 'anger' stage of grief. much of the chapter is about this compassionate love, but its also about loss, and the anger that accompanies it. chapter three starts with izuku whole and ends with him in pieces as he loses parts of himself in parallel of fifth/seventh's memories. candor is constantly ending at an arc where it started (but with its occupants changed, different). the material in each chapter and between chapters is circular/repetitive, much like grieving is.
fun fact, i guess
the first scene in candor is not the first scene that izuku goes through. the very first line says as much: "It’s the third time Izuku’s hit the pavement face-first... And it’s his third time dying today." It's implied that Izuku's already been at it for a while in different scenes, though it's subtle. no one seemed to pick up on that in the comments until it was shown in perception. i wanted it to be very evident what the crux of the conflict in the fic was, however, so I started with the jumping-out-the-window scene.
i dont believe this is a super inclusive look at everything candor has to offer, but here's a few things i could think of right off the top of my head. again, this is what I was thinking about when I wrote it, but I am but one person, so conveying these points might not be obvious or done poorly. nevertheless, if you ever decide to go back and reread parts of it, I hope some of my decisions are enlightening and/or interesting!!
#candor fic#i got a little bit of brainrot#but also i really wanted to talk about these little bits and bobs
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Comfort headcanons!!
⋆ ࣪. ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤 ≫ Cloud, Zack and my bby Vincent
⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ none, just fluff
⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ First little fic after a while, hope you guys enjoy!!
Cloud
★ As we all know, he isn't the best comfort buddy
★ But, through all the years he had to slowly leave behind all his trauma, he definitely has softened up
★ Secretly loves the way you would fall asleep on him after bawling your eyes out
★ Obviously not much of a talker, he prefers to listen and just be there for you
★ I just love to think that it always ends up in a hours-lasting cuddling session, doesn't matter if he was the one who needed to be comforted or the other way around
"It´s fine, really"
However, your puffy cheeks said otherwise as you adverted your gaze from him. Your arms hugging your body wearily, soft sniffles and of course, your ragged breathing was all you had let him see. His approach was sincere, walking slowly up to you just to place a hand on your shoulder, he sure had improved on how to just... listen over the years.
"Talk to me"
But still you wouldn't budge, turning your face from him, embarrassed he had to see you like this once again. So after huffing out a sigh he seemed to have been holding for quite a while now, he placed his left hand on your unoccupied shoulder and pulled you closer to him.
Then you let go, ugly sobbing into his chest as you fisted his shirt. His hands trying the most soothing patterns he recalls you drawing on his back after a rough day. He would caress as tenderly as he could, not quite being used to touching a texture softer than the handle of his sword, to hear such pretty cries and not from death.
"Sorry, I just-"
You hiccuped after you had rambled your sorrows into the tension-filled air of your room. However, he didn't budge, muffling your priceless apologies into his chest as he opted to just hold you for however you needed him to.
That was his way of showing you how much he appreciated you, everything you had done to soothe him, he will reciprocate too.
Zack
★ MAJOR comforter
★ I mean, he doesn't even have to do anything, his meere presence is just so comforting
★ He feels bad about it but he loves your face whenever you're grumpy or upset, he just finds your tear-stained cheeks so cute!
★ Oh and btw, you aren't crying more than 5 minutes when he's around
★ He would do anything to make you forget it, want some icecream? He's already bought like 10 of them. A massage? Face down lying on your mattress asap
"C'mon y/n"
You felt his saddened voice ring through your ears, his hands holding your waist as you hid your face under your palms. Your cheekbones glistening and getting irritated from the saltiness of your tears, and the more he tried to sneak a peek out of the them, the worse he felt.
"Look at me please"
He whispered as he delicately placed his still gloved hands over yours, finally prying them off your gorgerous face.
"There we go, as beautiful as I remember"
You didn't know why, but at first glance, his dumb but somewhat anxious smile looking down at you made you mimic his own expression, earning a playful laugh from him. It really wasn't fair, you thought, you could never be upset around him.
"What? Got something funny on my face?"
He joked before swiftly moving his hands and reaching the sides of your waist, nagging your sides until he had to catch you from falling on your ass as you laughed.
"You're such a dork"
You giggled out after he lifted you into his arms, your feet dangling off the floor as your arms were trapped under a bear hug. Hearts beating shakily into each other the more he nuzzled into you.
"Yeah, but you love it"
Vincent
★ Tbh I think he's the most compressive of the three
★ Would and will listen to you ramble for hours of necessary, he's such a hopeless romantic
★ Not a fan of physical contact but if you are, he would not complain if you wanted to cuddle with him
★ (I mean this mf is always sleeping on his coffin)
★ Will do whatever you felt more comfortable with, if you just want him to listen and be there, he will, if you want to be alone, he will leave you be (but ofc he later would be looking for you to see if you were fine)
"Who was it?"
A sudden deep voice rang through your ears, making you jolt up from the floor as you looked around to spot the source of it. And of course, it was your deary sneaky vampire.
"Jesus"
You choked out before turning your back to him, telling him that one, he really should stop sneaking on you like that and two, of course it was nothing.
Either way, as soon as he heard your pained voice he knew you required some comfort, he's been there already. The more you stepped away, the more he tried to approach you, finally getting to wrap his cold arms on your waist as your back pressed against his chest.
. . .
You both stayed like that for a while, rocking back and forth as he lulled you, letting you cry out your last tears before you finally felt relief, slumping down on him as sleepiness took over your features.
He huffed out what seemed a quiet laugh before dragging you back into your bed, sitting on it first as he let you nestle on his lap, your cheek pressed against his shoulder as you slowly dozed off on him.
His cloack sure was comforting.
Bonus!!
"Don't let such a stupid thing get into your head dummy"
"Yeah, she's right y/n"
You swore you couldn't feel any warmer in that moment, the girl's you've always looked up to were sweeter than ever. And yeah, it was a stupid thing you were upset about too.
Then they both took you on one of the best improvised little dates ever, taking walks and admiring the (not-so-clean) streets of Midgar. Then Aerith took you to her house, Tifa following shortly behind you as they both giggled playfully.
A cuddling session followed closely and you were absolutely living it. Snacking on some homemade food Aerith's mom had worked on the day before and nuzzling your head onto Aerith's chest meanwhile Tifa had her arms around you for behind.
"You both are the best, really"
You sighed out, your eyes not puffy anymore as you glanced at both of them. Earning more sweet comments from the brunnete and nods from the bartender.
#[ 📄 c0smos!drabbles ]#final fantasy vii#ff7#cloud strife#ffvii#ffvii x reader#final fantasy fluff#cloud strife fluff#cloud x reader#cloud strife x reader#zack x reader#zack fair x reader#vincent valentine#vincent x reader#vincent valentine x reader#tifa x reader#aerith x reader#final fantasy fic#final fantasy x reader#final fantasy 7 x reader
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You seem like a Train Professional so where would one begin in order to get into the funny little talking train show?
these are all my own opinions so take it like a grain of salt -- the common go-to would be the thomas and friends tv show. start off from season 1 then work all your way up to the top (not actually really. you can skip some later seasons like s17 if you want to). the model seasons are considered to be some of the greatest because 1) they set the foundation of the cast (besides the railway series books) 2) they contain some of the most iconic scenes from the show like gordon's ronan kirk crash, the flying kipper accident, james and the shoelaces, etc and 3) they're the originals so you know what their personalities and relationships to their peers were like and how their characterization was supposed to be like before the cgi era flip flopped them up
also check out the railway series books in the meantime! the funny talking train show was based on the book series created by reverend awdry for his sick son! the first book feature edward, henry, and gordon. thomas appears in the second book. fast forward decades later and britt alcroft created a tv show called thomas the tank engine. there are many eras of the show, from models, to model/cgi hybrid, to computer animations where the show gets passed around like a volleyball from studio to studio
here's a google spreadsheet that contains all the thomas and friends episodes in various languages. feel free to watch the show for yourself and decide which seasons you like the most
some more of my thoughts under the cut
I recommend you steer clear of the big world big adventures seasons and specials because it's probably the most controversial seasons in the fandom. replacing two of the core cast members, "pandering" to certain audiences, putting in lackluster representation for the sake of selling toys, SAID representation turns out to be racist depictions, all of it reflected the current state of mattel when handling thomas and friends. they also didn't contribute anything to the overall show, like by the time the bwba seasons were out, people dgaf and just focused on the older seasons. you can ignore bwba and you won't miss anything important about ttte. not that I'm stopping you! you have your own free will.
the thing about ttte that made many adults get into it (if not for train autism) is how ttte was a show grounded in reality. idk if that makes sense but basically despite being a show about mean talking trains for little kids, reverend awdry and britt alcroft handled the characters with care. they gave the engines so much charm by making them bicker with each other like the cranky old engines they are BUT they're not reduced to singular personality traits too. thomas is cheeky and kind of a meanie but he wants to prove himself useful. edward is old and acts as a mentor to thomas but he also wants to show that he still got it despite his old age. gordon went from being a pompous grand young express engine to a humble old engine being a mentor to the newer ones and so on! they also put a lot of historical references related to the engines' basis too and tie their backstories in (henry's a stolen faulty design hence his cynical, miserable personality at the early seasons of the show). there's even irl engines mentioned in both the books and show (flying scotsman and city of truro) and it's just neat!!! because awdry cares about history so much!!!! that he even made an "encyclopedia" about sodor, its railways, and its history
the books and the earlier seasons of ttte didn't shy away from themes of death and usefulness and all that (the story of godred, henry being a faulty engine and getting cask of amontillado'd for being uncooperative, all of gordon's siblings scrapped sans flying scotsman) because the thing about them being engines are important to them. it's their reison d'etre. they get scrapped if they cannot be of use anymore, because that's how things have always been. they get into accidents often because their ego got to them. dieselization is starting on the island of sodor and the diesels are asserting their dominance over the oldschool steam engines. the engines just exist there. they just happen to have faces and talk. idk. I think it's interesting how they view life a bit differently than humans. thank you for listening to my ramble
#asks#anonymous#also I'm not the most professional!!!! dozens of my mutuals are more qualified in this field than me
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DISCLAIMER i have not worked my way through all the eris dialogue yet so if she says something that contradicts all of this uhh. ill explode or something idk
anyway i feel like eris and hypnos actually have the potential to become besties when you think about it! like at a glance it does not seem like they'd vibe (and maybe wouldn't for a while) but i absolutely think they could
they both stand out to me bc (and honestly are both my faves bc) they don't really follow the same adherence to rules and responsibility that p much every other god does, particularly in the nyx family. hypnos constantly slacks off at work in hades 1, and the only reason he starts putting in effort is basically bc he wants approval from than and nyx. eris criticizes mel all the time for being so uptight, as well as nyx and than for being such strict rule-followers. they could both really connect over having someone else who is similarly opposed to that workaholic mindset (worth noting for eris, she refers to than as "brother number i dont even know anymore" and specifically doesnt care about him bc he's uptight like everyone else iirc, so i think she'd really appreciate having someone in the fam who isn't that way)
also, like. yes eris can be pretty cruel to mortals but hypnos is also pretty callous towards them most of the time? like he's pretty comfortable with the topic of death (which does make sense, given his job) but he just doesn't take it very seriously at all, like with natural causes he's just like "wow! sucks to be a mortal lol." plus that whole bit when he just suggests that thanatos just kill everyone all at once so they can hang out more like his ass does not care 😭 so i dont think he'd really care about eris tormenting humans, and in turn i think she might really like someone finally just being chill about it rather than looking down on her basically for being strife. also she'd probably find it funny how nonchalant he can be abt this, and in turn hypnos would enjoy her particular brand of chaos lol
thematically though, part of eris' whole thing is about how she feels ostracized from the rest of the fam bc strife is literally in her nature, while hypnos is shunned bc of his constant sleeping. both are pushed out bc of their very natures. but where they differ is hypnos prioritizes his relationships to the rest of the family and is willing to fight against his nature in order to do his job at the House and thereby impress/appease nyx and than, restoring his relationships to them at the cost of his personal happiness. meanwhile eris believes in being true to herself above all else, and if that means severing ties, then so be it. she mentions at a few different points that she's not going to change her nature for what anyone else wants, and that they shouldn't be surprised at how she acts, given that she's literally strife incarnate (an argument I've seen plenty of people give wrt hypnos sleeping at the job while being sleep incarnate). i think if they interacted more they could actually learn a lot from each other and maybe both move closer to the middle of that spectrum
also hypnos is usually seen as the childish one throughout hades 1 but eris is specifically stated to be one of the youngest in the nyx family so i would love to see some older brother hypnos content 🙏
#i fully hc that eris has curly hair but it's just cut too short to tell rn#bc with hypnos the fact that he's the only one in the fam with curly hair#is meant to show how he's the odd one out#eris is absolutely an odd duck amongst the siblings too#so i think they ought to be together in that camp#anyway i am unwell about them and rambling#hades game#hades 2#hades 2 spoilers#eris hades#hypnos hades
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Atomic Ask Bomb 3!!
We got a shorter one this time around! I hope everyone's evening is going well!
Content Warning: Long-ish, Discussions of Ableism + Queerphobia, Weird Cronus Moment™.
Same. I'd read a fanventure about that, I think.
Like, I don't personally believe WV would be allergic to being a mentor or something of a father figure, but I do have to wonder the level to which he was wigged out by the way that Dave and Karkat treat him, because Dave in particular imprints on him in a way that is... Kind of strange.
The later portions of Homestuck really baby WV. It's upsetting.
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Easy. The actual things wrong with them.
A lot of the discourse surrounding them is fabricated, or has such poor priorities it might as well be fabricated. Most critical conversations about them surrounds things people just made up over the course of years of mythologizing their #Problematicness.
For Example: Most of the discourse surrounding why Horuss had problematic writing had to do with how he was "Bad Otherkin Representation", when the real issue was the fact that Hussie was conflating Being Otherkin with having a Dissociative Disorder, and in turn saying both of them are the exact same level of Fake And Gay for the exact same reason, because to Hussie they were the same thing. To this day, people get startled every time I point out that Horuss is canonically a System despite him bringing it up just as regularly as he does being Therian. Those are totally wack priorities.
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...That's scary... I don't even have words...
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LOL. The Lost Weeaboos was a Grade A bit. Thank you Aranea, very cool.
Honestly, I don't even count Cronus as a "facade character", because it's not like he's making any efforts to hide jack shit. It's been... Interesting, watching several people refer to "his facade" lately, when, like... What are they talking about, honestly? He's pretty bold-faced about his whole deal. This isn't really a Dave situation where you could be capable of falling for it when you're younger, because Cronus couldn't be doing a worse job at "hiding" how awful he is. He's not even trying, because he knows he can get away with it. What are the other Alphas gonna do? Leave?
Hope you're having a good time!! The Alpha Trolls may be a Trash Heap, but they are my Trash Heap.
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There comes a point where it's almost comedic how unaware people are of it... Like, what do you mean you know he's a Horse Therian but not that he's a System? He literally calls himself the Host of a System and talks about Switching. IN THOSE TERMS. He's not even obfuscating it by using some esoteric Troll terminology, he is LITERALLY using the words "Host", "System", and "Switching".
It's painful. I know this is a moment befitting of an XKCD comic, but... Jeez. You'd think these things would both be on the same level of common knowledge, considering how they're traits that are directly related to each other and given equal amounts of screen time, but nope!
Unfortunately, it is a situation where this is relevant. Sad!
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All characters will become AroSpec and/or ASpec with the help of my Beam Attack.
... Except for Cronus. It's just not funny when it's him. Due to The Themes. It's not fun to headcanon a character as any minority when a huge part of their character is that they pretend to be minorities for Pity Points to eventually cash in for Sex. Ew. Making him literally anything other than Just Cronus plays directly into so many vile Queer stereotypes it's insane. Those are stereotypes that have gotten people actually genuinely killed. Just... Ew. Gross.
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#homestuck#alpha trolls#beta kids#beta trolls#the exiles#wayward vagabond#dave strider#karkat vantas#cronus ampora#horuss zahhak#cw ableism#cronus.pdf#horuss.pdf#nekro.sms
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ermmmm like i dunno if you're still doing requests buttt could you do like kustard but it turns to dustard
that dynamic always interested me but i never see much about it :3
anon, has anyone ever told you that you're a genius?
the kustard to dustard pipeline is WOEFULLY UNEXPLORED. WHICH SUCKS BECAUSE IT'S SO FUCKING GOOD. so, naturally, i was REALLY excited when i got this ask. yippie!!! an excuse to write fun fucked up dynamics!!!!!
this one is pretty tame. i can't think of any warnings you might need other than it being like..... long and, obviously, kinda angsty. it's fluffy in the end tho. but that's what you get when you ask me to write i guess LOL
thank you all for the requests btw!! i was NOT expecting so many after the kist fic, but i am pleasantly surprised and am trying to chip away at them as quickly as i can. spat this one out in a few hours, so it might not be my best work, but i'm happy with how it turned out either way :)
as always, the link to this fic on ao3 will be in the reblogs once it's posted, if that's your cup of tea (as it is mine LMAO)
i hope this feeds you well anon. thank you for the ask <3
It was undeniable that the multiverse was an entirely cruel and ruthless place.
Or, at least, that was what Red had wholeheartedly believed up until he’d met his other self, in a universe that was so very unlike his own. A universe where the typical LOVE of any given passerby was nothing higher than 1; where Sans and his brother were kind to one another in public; where there was so little need for the royal guard that the worst Sans got for sneaking off to Grillby’s during his shift was a slap on the wrist. It was difficult to believe that a place like that could exist – that it could be self-sustainable, since, logically, their weakness should have led to their downfall – and even harder to look at it as anything more than a childish fantasy that had yet to find its catch.
Initially, Red hated Sans.
It felt ridiculous, looking back upon it – in the moments when his head lay in Sans’ lap and gentle fingers traced over his scars like they were poetry written in a language Red had never bothered to learn, and he wondered what Sans saw in him that he hadn’t seen; wondered if this was what it felt like to love himself – but it was the truth. It had taken him a while to understand that the circumstances in which they’d grown were enough to turn them into two different people; that hating Sans wasn’t so much like hating himself, or what he could have been, as he wanted it to be.
Really, Sans was so unsuspecting that Red had been foolish enough to let his guard down, forgetting that then was when feeling was the most liable to appear.
He hadn’t expected to fall in love with the laugh – genuine, unabashed, and lacking all of the gruffness of his own – of someone whose humour was just as terrible as his own.
He’d been far too blind to realise how incredibly endearing it was for someone to wake up and allow themselves to be bleary and half-asleep, cuddling into his arm without even meaning to, even if it meant opening themselves up to being easily picked off.
In allowing someone into his blindspot that he’d believed to be too weak or foolish to use it against him, he’d failed to remember that it was the softest words that cut the deepest, when they would bleed him dry so tenderly and lovingly that he couldn’t even think to fight against the bloodloss; when, instead, he’d lean into the knife and ask them to twist it. The wound was soul deep, and the soul’s wounds could not be so easily ignored.
Though, it was a small price to pay to hear that raucous laughter over jokes that weren’t even funny. Trivial, really, in comparison to soft smiles and gentle touches that moved slowly just to prove to him how tender the world could really be.
“Earth to Red.”
A soul for a soul; a life for a life. They gave one another all of themselves, promised each other that it was enough, and it was. For once, it was, just to be soft.
“Come in, Red.”
There was gentleness in the multiverse, hidden until it was allowed in.
Tiredly, he bat away the hand that waved in front of his sockets, only to grab it by the wrist and pull it back down, firmly, on the crown of his skull. With a laugh, the fingers scratched gentle circles into the bone, and Red hummed happily at the feeling, allowing his sockets to slip shut as he lay against Sans’ legs.
“Where’d you go, space cadet?”
“Nowhere,” he grumbled, sighing softly as he fully relaxed into the touch. “Must’ve dozed off.”
Again, there was that laugh, and Red’s soul fluttered. “With your eyes open?”
“It’s a little known talent of mine,” he hummed.
“Gee, must be handy,” came the response, and amusement never sounded so beautiful. “You’ll have to teach me sometime.”
“Nuh uh,” and he couldn’t stop himself from snorting. “It’s genetic.”
“Ah, damn. Guess we gotta add that to the list of differences.”
“Guess so.” His breath hitched as the hand on his head trailed downward to cup his cheek. His browbones furrowed, ever so slightly, and he felt himself go tense.
“Hey. Look at me.”
After a moment, Red opened his sockets, and there was no sight more welcome than the face of his lover. Each time he saw him was like the first, and Red drank in each of his features as if they’d disappear at any moment: smooth bone, unmarred by chips and cracks; eyelights that glowed softly in dark sockets, like how he imagined fireflies might; ever present, gentle smile that smoothed away his worries. Oh, to be so untouched by cruelty. He’d do anything to keep it that way.
“‘Sup,” he breathed, and Sans’ smile widened as he snorted.
“‘Sup,” he returned. His thumb ran circles over his cheek, and Red leaned into the touch. “You okay?”
With a snicker, he rolled his eyelights at the question. “Super duper.”
Despite himself, Sans laughed too, but, still, pressed on. “You sure? You were spacing out pretty bad before. Like, way out in deep space,” he emphasised, unnecessarily. “No planets around, just stars. Way beyond our galaxy. Uncharted territory. Where no man has gone before.”
“Alright, alright, I get the picture” Red interrupted, though not without chuckling. “‘M okay. Was just thinking.”
When Sans’ head cocked to the side, Red couldn’t help but grin. “About?”
“Uranus.”
At first, his sockets simply narrowed, confused, then all at once, “Ura– Oh. Alright, perv. Har har.”
But, he was laughing, and Red was, too, like it was the funniest joke in the world despite it not even being funny. Maybe it didn’t matter, if Red was the one to say it; if Sans was the one to laugh. Maybe, then, it could be good, even if it wasn’t, really. The sound of their laughter, something shared and sacred, was what Red imagined it might feel like to hear the birds chirp when the sun rose and turned the sky whatever colours it was supposed to when it drove the night away. He hoped that it was blue, like Sans’ favourite colour, but the pictures in his textbooks were too faded to be sure.
When he tuned back in, the laughter had tapered off.
“You do that a lot, y’know,” Sans noted, almost absentmindedly, and his hands turned back to trailing shapes on Red’s skull.
He grunted at the feeling. “Do what?”
“Go to space,” Sans said, simply. “Or… somewhere else. That I can’t reach.”
Red frowned, closing his sockets to cut off the dull thrum of agony he felt in his soul whenever Sans’ smile didn’t reach his eyes like that. “I do it less than I used to. It used to be better, somewhere else – anywhere else – but ‘m not so sure anymore.”
“Where would you wanna go?” he asked, in a whisper. “If you could go anywhere. Anywhere at all.”
For a moment, Red considered. The answer would have been easy before – the surface, of course. Where Paps and every other monster longed to be – but access to the multiverse had opened up options that he’d never known existed. If he could conceive of a place, it surely existed, somewhere. Any place. Anywhere. Anywhere at all. But, if kindness was so thoroughly hidden, why should he want to look for it anywhere else?
“Think I’d rather just stay here,” he hummed. “With you.”
Maybe he should have questioned the way that Sans’ hands stilled at his answer. Maybe he should have opened his eyes; looked at his face; seen his expression; known what it meant.
But, he didn’t.
“Geez,” Sans breathed, with a laugh that sounded breathless. “My answer feels stupid in comparison.”
“Yeah? What’s yours?”
“Anywhere else. Anywhere at all.”
In hindsight, Red should have known it was too good to last; too good to stay good.
A universe where the typical LOVE of any given passerby was nothing higher than 1; where Sans and his brother were kind to one another in public; where there was so little need for the royal guard that the worst Sans got for sneaking off to Grillby’s during his shift was a slap on the wrist. It was difficult to believe that a place like that could exist – that it could be self-sustainable, since, logically, their weakness should have led to their downfall – and even harder to look at it as anything more than a childish fantasy that had yet to find its catch.
Of course, there was a catch.
There was always a catch. Every childish fantasy grew tainted with time, like the innocence of children was stripped with age. Every fairy tale book grew weary and old, pages yellowed and frayed. Every picture faded, until you couldn’t be sure whether the sky was blue or grey.
But, you hoped it was blue anyway, and maybe that was your mistake.
It was undeniable that the multiverse was an entirely cruel and ruthless place. That was what Red wholeheartedly believed. Maybe, after all, there was a reason that love and LOVE were spelled the same.
Try as he might, though, Red could not hate him.
It felt ridiculous – in the moments when hands clamped around his neck like a vice, choked by the grip and the grief that came with it, as if the two were one in the same, and they would both cry, both tremble in fear, or fury, or something worse, and Red would think that this was what it was like to hate himself – but it was the truth. It had taken him a while to understand that the circumstances in which they’d changed were enough to turn them into two different people; that hating Dust wasn’t so much like loving himself, or what he could have been, as he wanted it to be.
Really, Red had underestimated Dust as he had been before; had assumed that kindness meant the incapacity for cruelty.
And, in allowing someone into his blindspot that he’d believed to be too weak or foolish to use it against him, he’d failed to remember that it was the softest words that cut the deepest, when they would leave scars so deep that all he could think of was how much he missed the feeling; when he’d search for the knife and throw himself against it. The wound was soul deep, and the soul’s wounds could not be so easily ignored.
Before, he’d thought it was a small price to pay. Trivial, really, in comparison to what he had to gain from it. As if it were a simple transaction as opposed to something living, and breathing, and ever changing; as if he would never have to be the one who was tender; as if that made it anything less valuable.
“Red.”
A soul for a soul; a life for a life. They gave one another all of themselves, promised each other that it was enough, and it was. Just as before, it was. Harsher now, but Dust had taught Red to be soft, and Red would teach him what he’d forgotten.
“Red.”
There was gentleness in the multiverse, hidden until it was allowed in.
With a jolt, he came back to reality to a slap on the face, not hard enough to hurt, but more than enough to be startling. He frowned, but, nonetheless, took his hand by the wrist and guided it to the crown of his skull. Hesitantly, as if spurred on by some muscle memory, the fingers ran in gentle circles across his bone, and Red hummed in approval at the feeling as he lay against Dust’s legs.
“Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere,” he mumbled, unconsciously leaning into the touch. “Must’ve dozed off.”
“With your eyes open,” Dust said, and it wasn’t a question. “Freak.”
Immediately, Red snorted. “Guess we gotta add that to the list of similarities.”
Despite himself, Dust laughed; the sound short, subdued, and nothing like the laugh he’d fallen in love with, but something about it made his soul flutter, nonetheless. “Guess so.”
After a moment, Red opened his sockets. Each time he saw him was like the first, and Red drank in each of his features as if they’d disappear at any moment – as they had before – smooth bone that crackled and buzzed with magic, refusing to be underestimated; eyelights that glowed brightly in dark sockets, like how he imagined neon signs would on a city street in the middle of the night; a face shrouded by shadow, as if it was saved for him alone to see. In the end, he’d been marred by cruelty despite Red’s best efforts, but he was beautiful nonetheless.
“‘Sup,” Dust mumbled, and the edges of his mouth quirked up in an attempt at a smile.
Slowly, Red lifted his hand and, ever so gently, cupped Dust’s cheek, pausing when his breath hitched, but, with the same caution, Dust leaned into the touch; barely enough to be noticed, but Red noticed. This time, he saw. “‘Sup,” he finally returned. “You okay?”
“You’re going to disappear,” Dust whispered, and his voice broke on the words in a way that made Red feel hollowed out. “You’re going to go somewhere else. Somewhere that I can’t reach. Like you do when you go to space. It scares me.”
Browbones furrowed, Red ran gentle circles across his love’s cheek, staying silent as Dust took in a shuddering breath to continue; a quirk Red had grown accustomed to.
“I remember what you told me before,” he said, and his hand came up to desperately hold Red’s to his face, like he might forget it was there if he didn’t make sure. “That you did it because it was better to be somewhere else – anywhere else. Do you want that now? To be somewhere else? Away from me?”
“No,” Red said, and the lack of hesitation in his answer surprised even himself. “I don’t want that.”
Again, Dust’s breath hitched, and he frowned, like the answer wasn’t enough, and, maybe, it wasn’t. His fingers threaded between Red’s, and, when he clutched onto his hand, Red squeezed back, holding him with desperation to match. Dust laughed, a breathless sound. “I’m not the person that you loved.”
Scoffing, Red rolled his eyelights at the notion. “Of course you are.”
“I’m not,” Dust insisted, and something about it was a plea.
“Then,” he breathed, “I love you. This you.”
And, with a breath that was cut off with something that sounded suspiciously like a sob, Dust leaned forward – over Red’s body, as if to trap him – and pressed his chest against Red’s. His ribs fluttered with each breath, and Red guided his stuttering breaths with deep inhales that interlocked their ribs with each one. His hand remained stuck to Dust’s cheek, and he squeezed gently, relieved when Dust squeezed back to let him know he was still here; in this reality, not another.
“Breathe,” Red commanded, soft; soft, like he’d been taught. “I’m here.”
Dust took a heaving breath – deep, frantic, like he’d been drowning – and, in a voice that sounded so much like before – reminding Red once more that this was the person he loved, despite the change – he whispered, “Where would you wanna go? If you could go anywhere. Anywhere at all.”
The question made him sputter, for a moment. Then, with a breathless laugh, “Seriously?”
“Please,” he pleaded, so what could Red do but answer?
The answer would have been easy before – here; here, just like before – but, despite how they fought against it, things had changed. Did that mean his answer had to change? That his longing had to shift, too? The multiverse was infinite. If he could conceive of a place, it surely existed, somewhere. Maybe even somewhere that Sans stayed Sans, but would it be the same? Any place. Anywhere. Anywhere at all. But, if kindness was so thoroughly hidden – had been ripped from Dust’s grasp with the signature ruthlessness of the multiverse – then why shouldn’t Red be it? Like Dust had been for him, before.
“Think I’d like to stay here,” he hummed. “With you. Still.”
And, this time, Red noticed the way that Dust’s breathing slowed to a stop; felt the way that his magic crackled between his joints; how something wet slipped between their fingers on Dust’s cheek; knew what it meant.
“Okay,” Dust whispered.
“What about you? Where would you go?”
There was a pause – a moment as Dust inhaled once more; held Red’s hand tight, but oh, so gentle – before he managed to answer. “Here,” he said. “With you.”
#blaise writes#fanfiction#undertale#undertale au#sans#sans au#underfell#fell x classic#fell x dust#kustard#dustard#dust sans#dusttale#fell sans#undertale fanfiction#utmv#sanscest#angst#good lord#i speedran this bitch#it's 7 am and i have not slept#but i'd do it again
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I really like these scenes between Edwin and Crystal (& Charles) in the beginning of the second episode.
I mean, it’s made obvious from their very first scene that Edwin and Charles care for each other deeply AND it’s also made clear that Edwin and Crystal get on each other’s nerves near immediately.
But, after solving only one case together, Edwin and Crystal begin to show signs that they begrudgingly care for each other.
After they successfully found Becky, but got caught, in episode one, they did show signs of caring about each other while fending off Esther. Edwin helps her up, Crystal tries to shield him but they could potentially brush that off as in the heat of the moment.
In the above scenes though, there’s danger but not that kind that’s going to steal their wits from them (at least not prior to the Cat King whisking him away).
When Edwin tells Charles to follow him, Crystal does too. Yes, she doesn’t want to be left out but she also clearly doesn’t want him to go alone with the Cat King.
When Crystal suggests fighting their way out, because again, she doesn’t want him to get hurt, Edwin responds by reminding her that she can get hurt/killed by these cats, as was shown in a sort of power move with the dead body.
He focuses on the danger to her, before mentioning the way he and Charles can also get hurt because he does care and doesn’t want her getting hurt, especially because of him.
When he returns from his talk with the Cat King she immediately notices the bracelet on him, which would imply that she’s scanning him, looking for something to indicate that he’s been hurt.
Crystal was and kind of still is a mean girl. Edwin can very much be a rude boy. Their personalities clash because of it. But still, it’s obvious they do indeed care from what we see above.
Which makes it so much funnier when, back at Jenny’s they immediately start tearing into each other.
Danger no longer imminent, obvious signs of care withdrawn.
Good luck with your problems, I no longer care (I do, I just refused to admit it to myself or you).
All the while poor Charles is caught in the middle because not only does he care about both of them but he’s also totally okay with showing it, to both of them. So he just ends up exasperated because Edwin and Crystal can’t just talk to each other normally.
Anyways, I love them, they’re so funny.
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