#<-- what tags do people use for this guy...

[sprenthecreator]

D.A | C.R.E.A.M

Male reader x Danielle Marsh

16.3k words

tags: if you hate italy don’t read it (probably a galli mf), bathtub/shower sex, kinda public sex, some feet stuff, some massage oil stuff

🔙 Previous update | 📄 C.R.E.A.M

━•✦•━•✦•━

━•✦•━•✦•━

Florence was beautiful at night, yes—like all of Italy, basically. But after a 15-hour flight, you didn't have the energy to go out for a drink alone that night when you arrived.

You were so tired that you didn't even go to the hotel you were going to stay at for the rest of those days. Instead, you ended up in a modest hotel run by a kind and hospitable older woman, who even helped you carry your luggage even though you'd insisted she didn't need to. As a thank you, the next morning upon departure, you not only paid for the room, but also left her a sizable tip to look after your luggage while you did all your chores.

So, feeling full and prepared, you hit the streets of Florence to make all the preparations for Dani's arrival the next day. The first thing, of course, was breakfast, and your choice was the Pasticceria Nencioni, a small dessert shop in the Sant'Ambrogio neighborhood, near the city center. The normal thing would have been to walk, since that's what you always did, but you were so far away that you ended up calling a taxi.

You were hoping for a peaceful day, but as you got out of the taxi and walked into the pedestrian street, a couple of guys stopped you to ask for photos. It didn't bother you; you were always very friendly and receptive to people who knew you and loved your job. But you didn't expect someone to recognize you on that remote street. It was to be expected in places like Rome or Milan, full of tourists and people of all cultures, but Florence was slightly more niche. A mere coincidence? Maybe.

What was certain was that you had to start getting used to the fact that your popularity wasn't the same as it had been two years ago, when you were barely known by chronically online folks. Now things were quite different. And you didn’t know how to feel about it.

After the minor setback, you walked down the street until you reached the small pastry shop, whose facade consisted solely of its awning with the name on it and the glass doors wide open, giving it a modest and welcoming appearance. The place was already bustling with activity at that hour, so you waited patiently in line to order, your mouth already watering with the smell of baked sugar, hot butter and hazelnut. 

Your breakfast ended up being a couple of pieces of torta al semolino—a traditional pastry filled with semolina cream and covered in chocolate—a cream-filled croissant, a cappuccino, and a small glass of water that Italians always served with their coffee.

Many customers just placed their orders and left after paying, so inside the pastry shop there were a couple of free tables next to the tall wooden display case to the left of the main counter, filled with antique bottles, books, small statues, and collectibles. Although you usually sat near the front, this time you went to a table at the back so you could do what you wanted to do in peace.

It must have been around midnight in L.A, which meant Wony was already at her hotel. Your girlfriend answered the video call as quickly as ever.

"Hi honey!" Wony greeted, walking across her room to lie down on her bed. She was wearing the same pink sweater she'd been wearing in the photos she sent you while you were asleep.

"Hey, darling," you smiled at your phone screen, adding sugar to your cappuccino. "Caught you busy?"

"Oh nah, I just got back to the hotel," Wony replied, and looked away for a moment to grab something before looking at you again. Judging by the shape of what she put in her mouth, you guessed it was her multivitamins. "How was your flight?"

"Terrible," you sighed, and took a sip of the cappuccino, careful not to burn your tongue. "I didn't get to sleep, for some reason. I just read and watched movies the whole trip."

"Oh my," Wony pouted and raised her eyebrows in concern as you scooped up a piece of cake with your spoon and brought it to your mouth. "My poor boy... At least you slept when you landed?"

"Not where I had planned, but yeah," you replied, your gaze momentarily on your breakfast. The cream-filled croissant was your next victim.

"Not where you had planned?"

"Seeing as I couldn't handle myself, I told the taxi driver to take me to the first decent hotel he found," you spoke with your mouth full, so you covered it with the back of your hand to avoid being unpleasant. You quickly swallowed. "And so I ended up in a quaint little place run by a kind old granny named Giuseppina."

Wony laughed, making you smile.

"Giuseppina?" she repeated. Her Italian pronunciation was improving every day.

"Oh yeah," you nodded. "A real sweetheart. And how are you? How's Tommy Jeans treating you?"

"Wonderful!" Wony responded, her face lighting up. "They were so nice to me. And they gave me a ton of snacks and clothes."

"Clothes you'd model for me, right?"

"I always model my new clothes for you, babe. By the way, where are you?"

"Oh right," you picked up your phone, which was leaning against the vase in the middle of the table, and put the back camera on to show her the bakery, just for a few seconds so as not to upset anyone. "A bakery near the center. It's amazing. I have to take you here sometime."

"Oh gosh, it's so pretty!" Wony said as you put the front camera back on. "You're having breakfast, aren't you? Let me see."

As if you were at a mukbang, you picked up both plates with the cakes and the croissant and showed them to the camera.

"Damn, that's yummy," Wony sighed. "Now I'm hungry."

"You have snacks to spare, right?"

"Yeah, but none of them are that cake."

"Well, I know the recipe. I can make it for you when we're home."

Wony remained silent, just looking at you with her head tilted. They were eyes full of love. Whenever she looked at you like that, you kissed her out of pure instinct. You wished you could have done it at that moment.

"My sweet boy, have I ever told you how much I love you?" Wony said, making you blush like an idiot in the middle of the pastry shop.

"All the time," you smiled.

"Great, because I don't want you to ever forget it."

"I'll never forget it because you love me as much as I love you, darling."

Wony brought her camera to her lips and covered it with kisses before returning to the usual shot.

"You're not prepared for how clingy I'll be in Paris," she said. "Poor you."

"Oh come on, you say that like I don't love it."

"I'm just warning you, sweetie."

The next few minutes were spent talking about your respective flights and things that happened along the way. You'd already finished your cake and croissant, and there was only a little cappuccino left when you saw the time.

"Honey, I should go," you said, stacking the empty plates. "I still have a lot of things to do."

"Okay, baby," Wony replied. "I'll take a bath and go to sleep. Will you be awake when I wake up?"

"Most likely. Will you wake up early?"

"8 in the morning, I think," Wony nodded.

"About 5 in the afternoon here, great."

"I'll text you when I get up then," Wony waved goodbye and blew you a kiss. "Bye baby, I love youuu! Don't forget to send me pictures. Of you, if possible."

"You have my word, honey," you blew the kiss back. "Love you too. Ciao."

After hanging up the video call, you sat for a moment checking your messages and email. Sohyun had sent you pictures of your cats and asked if everything had gone well on the flight. Sully had also texted you with the same intention. Dani, for her part, had told you her flight from Seoul was leaving at midnight—around 5 p.m. there in Florence—and that she would arrive tomorrow morning. 

But the one you didn't expect a message from, considering how busy she must be with all the preparations for her trip to Milan, was Rina.

Just as you were leaving and opened her chat, she was online, and she'd sent you a photo that you feared was... God. Your heart nearly leaped out of your mouth.

You had to take a moment to make sure no one was watching your screen and to process the content of the photo. A nude, of course. Sexy as hell, as only she knew how to make them.

With the Rina issue settled for now and your stomach full, you paid for your breakfast and finally left the bakery to take a taxi to the Maserati dealership, because clearly you couldn't take a taxi everywhere while you were in Florence.

Now, last year, your visit to Milan had made you discover a guilty pleasure, and it was expensive things. Very expensive things.

This was demonstrated when you unnecessarily rented the Purosangue, only to buy it months later at a higher price than usual due to import costs to Korea. Also a couple of months ago, when in a fit of love for your beloved girlfriend you had splurged $150,000 on just one necklace—she always wore it, so it wasn’t a regret for you and, to be honest, now you saw that figure as a small change.

And now, at the Maserati dealership, you exclusively consider the high-priced options. Although it's not as if there were any cheap options. It was either expensive or... less expensive.

The salesman who advised you, realizing that you knew more about cars than he might have expected, thankfully didn't try to take you for a fool and was quite helpful. One of the options was a convertible, but the point of those cars was to drive without the top up, and considering the mess that would arise if Dani was caught co-piloting a foreign guy—the two of them alone, in an Italian city—you decided to rule it out.

The final decision was a silver GranTurismo Trofeo, a gorgeous coupe with a 550-horsepower V6 engine. It was one of the few units left that was still brand new, as Maserati would soon become a 100% electric brand in a few years. The salesman clarified that the unit they had at the dealership wasn't available for rent, and that he would contact the third-party company they partnered with to bring yours in as soon as possible.

When the car arrived, you signed all the necessary paperwork and the contract, checked the condition of the vehicle, and proceeded to pay for the days you would use it. Your little treat cost you around $4,500. Minutes later, you were driving the coupe through the beautiful streets of Florence to Grandma Giuseppina's hotel.

After picking up your luggage and leaving the elderly woman another tip, you packed everything in the trunk of the car and drove to the Four Seasons, the hotel you had originally planned to stay at with Dani for those few days.

The imposing palatial building, worthy of a Raffaello Sanzio painting, rose along the narrow one-way street. At that hour, sunlight bathed the smooth ochre facade, casting shadows from the trees in the park on the opposite side of the road, where you had parked to get out and take a quick look at the small windows on each floor before crossing the street.

On the other side of the road, you passed between the two ornate columns and went through the stately dark wooden door that led you inside the hotel.

The palatial appearance of the hotel was also preserved inside. The first thing to attract attention was the majestic marble statue in the center of the interior patio, which was surrounded by four corridors with high arches and open columns crowned with murals and ornamentation carved from the same stone. The air was fresh, sweetened by the scent of freshly picked flowers from the patio. A group of visibly wealthy people chatted with courteous ease, sitting on the chairs and the green velvet sofa in front of the statue.

The corridor you were standing in had display cases behind each column on your left, featuring Rolex watches, handbags from various Italian brands, and jeweled accessories. But as you walked toward the reception desk, your attention was drawn to the arched ceiling, coffered with hexagonal panels that covered the entire surface, each decorated with ornamentation around the edges and a carved flower in the center.

As you walked through the corridor, you passed through the open door at the far end and entered the reception. Behind the counter on your right was the receptionist, a woman with her hair tied back in a bun and wearing the hotel uniform. You went with her to inquire about the available suites, giving you a range of options, from which, once again, you chose the most expensive option.

With your reservation for the suite—if you could call it that—made, you went to the car to get your luggage and returned inside to be helped and directed by a bellboy. To get there, you went out to the hotel's back garden, which was part of the Giardino della Gherardesca: a big shared garden that took up the entire block and served as a common space between hotels and institutes.

Outside, you circled the pool and left the hotel area enclosed by the hedges behind. The garden was larger than it looked, with paths winding through groves and small points of interest like fountains and parks where people gathered for various activities.

The suite was tucked away in the opposite corner of the garden, so you had to walk a couple more minutes until you spotted it in the distance. It was a cabin preceded by a wide semi-roundabout with a fountain in the center. As you passed through it, a perfectly manicured hedge and flowerbeds caught your attention: in the center, an archway covered in vines and flowering bushes led you inside.

The bellboy spoke to you as you passed under the arch, explaining the services available, the hours of service, and also giving you some historical context about the suite.

As soon as you crossed the archway, you were greeted by the wide circle formed by the perfectly manicured garden, with the small pool—more like a good-sized jacuzzi—on the left side, next to two lounge chairs and an umbrella. On the right side, there wasn't much else, just grass, flower beds near the side of the cabin, and a tree.

The cabin consisted, of course, of a single floor, accessed through two double glass doors, flanked by windows and framed at the top by a wrought iron structure with patterns of symmetrical circles and curves. Both were wide open, one revealing the living room and the other the only bedroom.

"D'ora in poi starò bene, fratello. Grazie mille," you told the bellboy with a smile, asking for your other suitcase.

"Ci faccia sapere se ha bisogno di qualcosa, signor Leone," the bellboy replied, handing you the suitcase handle as you took a few steps back. "Buon soggiorno."

"Grazie," you nodded, shook his hand in gratitude, and followed the stone path to the bedroom.

The first thing you did upon entering was leave your backpack and briefcase on the queen-size bed to the right. The two suitcases went into the corner between the mattress and the back wall. Then, you took off your shoes and sat on the lower edge of the bed with your feet up on the upholstered bench, taking out your phone and taking some pictures to send to Wony and Sohyun. Some shots were more elaborate than others, but you made sure to show as much as possible: the chandelier above your head, the television resting on the hand-painted bombé dresser, and even the visible part of the garden.

After taking the photos, you climbed into bed and began unpacking things from both your backpack and your briefcase. Since you weren't planning on going out again, you also went to one of your suitcases and took out some sweatpants and a wool sweater to change into.

Now more comfortable and without much to do, you set out for a mini tour of the cabin. First, you went to the right. There, the small hallway, with a circular mirror on the wall, opened in two directions.

The room to the left was a sort of dressing room, with an electronic safe and spaces for hanging and storing clothes. Nothing special.

But on the other side was the bathroom, which in itself looked like the lobby of a palace thanks to the marble walls and the gilded details of the double sinks and the large mirror on the left. On the opposite side, a dressing table with a stool and an ornate mirror placed above it, which you took to take another couple of photos. And within the same room, through a door to the left of the sink, were the toilets.

The other path led to an intersection, with the glass shower door on your left. You went to the right, and smiled at the sight of the bathtub embedded in the floor in the last room. You also took a photo, but you sent it to Dani, hoping she'd understand the possible uses you could give to it.

With that part explored, you returned to the bedroom and took the path to the other end of the cabin, past the central window visible from outside and another small bathroom.

The living room wasn't exactly modern, at least not by today's minimalist standards. It was more of a perfect blend of various vintage and eclectic styles, such as the white upholstered furniture, the classic-looking rug with brown prints on khaki, the nineties chairs, and the chandelier. And the entire right-hand wall consisted of gleaming glass panels, with a recessed space for a dresser, adjacent to a shelf with another gold-framed mirror above it.

All in all, it was one of the best $24,000 you'd ever spent. There was no way you'd regret it. On top of that, Dani's company was only going to make it better.

The cold breeze was starting to pick up, and the sun was already setting. In theory, it was still winter in Italy, which meant the delicious chill would slowly begin to penetrate the cabin. There wouldn't be any need to lock the doors just yet, so you sat on the couch, put your bare feet up on the coffee table, and relaxed with your phone. You even did an hour-long IG live to update your followers.

Wony also texted you, having woken up on her side of the world. You didn't speak for too long, as she had to grab a quick breakfast and rush to her schedule. But you made sure to give her the boost of motivation and affection she needed from her boyfriend to face her day.

Hours later, you ordered dinner from the hotel staff, and after eating, you showered and finally closed the cabin doors to go into your bedroom. Then you took out your laptop and started handling business matters in your email. The most important thing was to confirm your attendance at Fashion Week in a few days. Upon doing so, your internal point of contact at Prada almost immediately sent you a dossier-like document containing information about the event, such as schedules, exact locations, content guidelines for social media, and appointments with the styling, marketing, and logistics teams before the event.

By the time you'd tied up as many loose ends as possible it was almost midnight, which meant it was time to go to sleep since Dani would arrive first thing in the morning.

So you closed your laptop, went to close the curtains, and set an alarm for 6 a.m. before snuggling under the blanket and going to sleep.

The morning in Florence was beautiful as you drove to the Amerigo Vespucci Airport. Caraphernelia by Pierce the Veil played through the car speakers at a moderate volume. There were just under ten minutes until Dani landed, so you were on time.

Traffic was light at that time of day, so you were able to cut some corners and arrive a couple of minutes early.

Once parked, you put on the sunglasses Prada had given you as part of a welcome gift a couple of days earlier and got out of the car to head into the airport, hands in the pockets of your brown aviator jacket.

When you stopped to wait near the airport shopping center it was already 7:04. But it wasn't long before Dani Marsh appeared in the distance, looking like something out of a fashion magazine, wearing a black hat, sunglasses, a pink Hysteric Glamour oversized aviator jacket, a long black skirt, and brown boots. A large suitcase in her hand and her phone in the other.

Just as she'd told you, she was coming alone. She'd mentioned something about the possibility of her sister joining her, but it seemed her plans didn't work out. It was a shame, because her sister was just as lovely as she was, and you were happy to be able to show them both Florence.

But being alone would definitely have its advantages.

Dani smiled from ear to ear when you took a few steps forward and made her notice you. Her gait quickened, dodging the traffic. You closed the distance until you met halfway and hugged.

"Hi dearrr!!" Dani squealed, her arms clinging to your neck.

"What's up, darling?" You smiled, wrapping your arms around her body and holding her tight. "How was the flight?"

"Uhm, pretty chill! I slept through most of it," she replied as she pulled away and took off her sunglasses. You did the same. "Then I woke up two hours before landing. And you? How are you doing? Sorry for making you wake up so early."

"Nah it's okay," you shook your head. "I slept enough. Although I can't say the same about my damn flight here. You were lucky, at least."

Dani giggled.

"The pills helped, believe me. I can recommend the ones I use."

"Please tell me it's Klonopin, those are my favorite."

"What the hell are you talking about, Leone?!" Dani laughed, tapping you in the chest with the palm of her hand. "Don't say that again!"

"Sorry, you made it too easy for me," you smiled, and opened an arm toward the exit. "Shall we go?"

"Alright!" Dani nodded, putting her sunglasses back on.

"Let me help you with that," you said, taking her suitcase and starting to walk outside. "I hope you're hungry. I know the perfect place for us to have breakfast together."

"Thought of everything, huh?" Dani giggled, holding onto your arm. "I am, yeah."

"Your first time in Florence can't be a mediocre experience, Marsh. Of course I thought of everything."

"Something more like my first time in Rome, then?"

Suddenly, memories of that spontaneous trip quickly flooded your mind. A jacuzzi, on a terrace overlooking the Colosseum, Hanni, Dani, and Minji, all three of them on your cock...

"Yeah, something like that," you sighed, forcing yourself to push the memory out of your head.

Dani just laughed again. Perhaps noticing the blush on your cheeks.

After a couple of minutes of walking, you walked out of the airport and headed to where you were parked, which wasn't too far from the main entrance.

"Oh wow, you didn't spare any expense either, I see," Dani said as you crossed a road, watching you press the car remote to unlock the doors.

"And wait until you see where we're staying. Hop in, honey."

You opened the passenger door for Dani and went to put her suitcase in the trunk. Then you got into your seat, took off your sunglasses, and left them folded on the dashboard. Dani followed suit, taking off her hat as well.

"Do you really know how...?" Dani pointed to the touchscreen embedded in the dashboard. "You know, how to use that thing."

"It's not that complicated," you replied, and pressed the button to the left of the steering wheel to start the engine. "Put your seatbelt on, thanks."

Dani and you put your seatbelts on, and after adjusting the car's internal GPS through the touchscreen navigation panel, you hit the accelerator and drove to Via Alessandro Guidoni, heading for the Caffè Gilli. It was about a 20-minute drive, so you told Dani to get comfortable and put on some music.

"Did you come here often?" Dani asked halfway there, her eyes on the Hilton Garden Hotel park as you rolled past. "I mean, I know you're from Milan, but you seem to know this city well."

"I've visited every city in Lombardy and Tuscany at least twice," you replied, taking a small right turn. "I used to come to Florence in particular all the time," you took another left. "I mean, I don't know every shortcut and every detail, but I'm pretty familiar."

"Oh, okay..." Dani nodded, still entranced by the park to your right. "What about the south?"

"Southern Italy? Well, I've been there a few times, yeah," you nodded. "I was recently in Naples on vacation. There's some of that on my IG feed."

"Yeah, I remember seeing some stories. But did you go alone?"

Sohee had asked you to be a walking grave about that vacation of yours last September. In her words, no one, absolutely no one, could find out about that. Months had passed since you last spoke, and you had agreed to distance yourself due to the dangerous nature of whatever it was you had going on between you, but like the gentleman you were, you were going to respect her request. The secrecy was so profound that not even your closest friends knew.

Although, of course, the sharpest among them could have made connections, since Sohee had also posted photos in the same places as you... with photos you had taken. Like, no one had ever accused you of anything, thankfully. But chances are someone would be suspicious.

"Nope, I went with a friend and his brother," you replied. "The pizza there is incredible. The scenery too. Especially on the Amalfi Coast when you take a boat ride."

"Then I have to go sometime. I love boat rides."

"You're Aussie, no surprise there."

Dani chuckled.

"Look, I could be offended but you're right. In fact, since I'm such an Aussie, I've got a spider here for you."

Dani then reached out and tickled your ribs and thigh. She knew you hated that shit.

"Hey, no!" You squirmed, between pain and laughter. But Dani wouldn't stop. "Stop!! You're going to fucking kill us!"

With your free hand, you tried to stop her, and between struggles, her hand ended up on your crotch. She could have immediately removed it and kept bothering you, but fortunately for your hatred of tickling, she didn't.

"Oh, woopsies," Dani giggled, giving your bulge a squeeze that made you gasp. Then she removed her hand. "Are you going to feed it to me one of these days?"

"Not if you keep fucking tickling me," you snapped, a little angrily.

"Okay," Dani clasped her hands in her lap and looked out the window. "I'll be a good girl... daddy."

You took a deep breath and forced yourself to focus on the road so as not to wind her up. After about 10 minutes, you were driving into the historic center of Florence, through the narrow Via del Corso, lined with buildings with shops on their ground floors. The Caffè Gilli was located in the Piazza della Repubblica, a large square famous for its cafes and restaurants, so you had to get out of the car a corner earlier to continue on foot.

Dani stopped at a few places to take pictures and have you take them for her. She seemed enchanted by the place, even though the day wasn't as beautiful as in warmer times of the year and the sky was slightly clouded. If only she knew what you had in store for her.

After filling Dani's gallery with the first photos of the trip, you finally walked toward the café.

The place had two areas: the usual facade, on the ground floor of the building, with columns between each entrance and an awning that stretched from side to side; and a large covered dining area right in front, which you entered.

It was the time of day when people usually went out for breakfast, so the tables filled up more quickly. You hurried to take one toward the back of the left wing, not too far from the rear glass wall. Dani took more photos there, until a waiter came to welcome you and take your orders.

"Are all the cafes in Italy this cute?" Dani asked a couple of minutes later, glancing around. "I remember saying the exact same thing in Rome."

"Our breakfasts are sacred," you replied, arms crossed on the table. "Most Italians' day begins right here. So all our cafes are made with love. Pure tradition."

The waiter arrived with the first part of your order: a cappuccino with oat milk for you and a doppio espresso for Dani, along with a bowl of fresh fruit with figs, grapes, melon, and berries.

"Speaking of love..." Dani's smile slowly faded. She looked down as she opened a sugar packet for her espresso. "What happened between you and Hanni? She never wanted to talk to me about it."

You sighed and looked down at the bowl of fruit to pick up a grape and eat it. That topic was already a thing of the past, or so it was supposed to be. Talking about it and rubbing salt in the wound was a bitch. Especially with how everything had happened.

"It's okay if you don't want to talk about it, really," Dani said.

"No, it's okay," you shook your head. "I just don't like remembering," you looked up. "Fuck, where do I start? Well... it was the day of her testimony in court. You know, when she was on TV and everything. That day she came to my apartment to, you know, sleep over and whatever. All cute and normal as ever.

"But the next morning she was... weird. She woke up before me. And she never wakes up before me. She didn't kiss me good morning, nor was she as smiling as usual. Of course I immediately asked her what was wrong and... fuck, it was like a fucking ice bath. It was horrible.

"But what did she say to you?" Dani asked, distressed. "You're adding too much suspense. Spill it."

"She said she couldn't do it anymore. I'm not going to go on and on about everything we talked about. But basically, she said that given her current life state, she wasn't sure she could give me the best of herself. And that there were a lot of things she needed to focus on before focusing on a relationship."

There was a momentary silence. Dani stared at you as your expression turned gloomy.

"Ouch..." Dani said.

"Yeah... I mean, now that I think about it, I understand that reason. But come on Dani, I was always there for her through thick and thin. Always. I don't think there was a single thing I couldn't help her through. Like... ugh," you groaned in frustration. "Whatever."

Just then, the waiter arrived with the food. You had ordered cornetto al pistachio, and Dani ordered a mini platter of mixed pastries: a small cannolino, a sfogliatella, and a croissant filled with lemon cream.

"Grazie," you forced yourself to say so as not to be rude, as the plates were placed in front of you.

"Thank you," Dani smiled at the waiter, but the smile faded when she looked at you again. "Jeez... I'm sorry, baby. For you know… reopening the wound."

"It sucks, but whatever," you shrugged. "I'm lucky to have found someone who helped me get over it."

"That's cute," Dani smiled. "And I'm very happy. But you should know that Hanni has been deadass jealous at least three times since then. I mean she denies it. But I can read her face."

"That's her problem. She should have known better than to leave me like a dog in the cold."

Dani chuckled.

"Look, in her defense, I must say that everyone's life is really turned upside down right now. It hasn't been easy."

"I know it hasn't been, but that doesn't stop anyone from having some emotional intelligence. Anyway, enjoy your meal, dear."

Everything was as delicious as you'd hoped, and Dani was so enamored with the sfogliatella that she ordered another one to go. You could have stayed and chatted for a while longer, but you had other places to take her. And what better way to go than to a museum?

Dani loved art; she was almost as devoted to it as you were. If there was anyone who would appreciate the Uffizi Gallery, it would be her, without a doubt. So that was your next destination.

"Hey, it's not that I'm not excited about going to the museum, but can we go shopping later?" Dani asked as you drove to the gallery. "I want you to know that my suitcase is purposely half empty."

You chuckled.

"Are you serious?" you said, your eyes on the road. "Well, it wouldn't hurt to update my closet. I'm in."

"Great! Because I don't know anyone better to be a fashion judge than you."

"Well, yeah, that's obvious. And...?"

"That you'll have to approve every item I want to buy," Dani leaned over the center console between the seats and leaned close to your ear. "Even the underwear," she whispered.

"Danielle Marsh, should I find an alley and fuck you on the hood of the car? I swear to God you're getting on my nerves."

"We don't have time for that, dummy," Dani replied, returning to her seat. "We have a museum to go to, remember? And then some shopping to do."

The sugary, innocent tone of her voice, along with her cute Aussie accent, made you let out a heavy breath. There was no possible objection you could make; after all, you were the one responsible for your itinerary. But at this rate, with two days still ahead of you, there was no doubt that things were going to happen more than once.

You sincerely hoped so, because that tight body was a marvel.

A short 10-minute drive later, you arrived at the Uffizi Gallery, a massive building that housed entire collections of Renaissance paintings on the banks of the Arno River. The tour lasted almost three hours, as you spent a good amount of time talking about each of the most interesting paintings, such as The Birth of Venus or Spring by Sandro Botticelli, or Caravaggio's Medusa, among the dozens of others in the museum.

By the time you finished your visit it was around 2 p.m. Dani loved every second of the tour, which was especially satisfying for you since it was the first place you'd thought of showing her when she'd asked you to be her tour guide a few days earlier. Nothing was better than having someone reaffirm your excellent tastes and actually enjoy them.

"The Birth of Venus is a beauty in person, wow," Dani said, scrolling through her gallery to see all the photos she'd taken. She was no longer wearing her jacket: now it was wrapped around her waist, leaving her in a fitted black polo shirt. "Wait, wasn't that the one attacked by environmental activists last year?"

"That's one, yeah," you nodded. You were taking a break in front of the gallery entrance, leaning against the stone railing that overlooked the river. The sun was already peeking out from under the blanket of clouds in the sky, reflecting on the still-calm water. "Idiots who think that'll change anything. They only gained six months in jail."

"Well, at least they tried to make a change. It's something."

"You wanna know how I think a change can be made? It's not pretty, and it has to do with multibillionaires."

"Nope, I don't wanna know," Dani said, looking up to pat you on the chest. "You know what I do want to know? How many new clothes can I bring home."

"Don't you want lunch first? I know the perfect place."

"I don't think I'm hungry yet. Let's go shopping, come on!" Dani said with a little jump, grinning from ear to ear to try to convince you.

"Consumerism consumes you, girl."

"And it makes me happy too!" Dani took your hand and pulled you along as if she knew the way—she didn't. "Walk!"

Well, anyway, you had no choice.

After a couple of minutes of walking, you reached the place where you had parked the car. You got in and headed toward Via de' Tornabuoni, a long, straight street lined with luxury brand stores on every side and at every corner.

A little over five minutes later, you were there. You parked a corner early, near the Column of Justice, an iconic monument in Piazza Santa Trinita. When you got out, you just had to walk straight until you entered the aforementioned street.

The first store was Burberry. Dani let you search first, knowing that she would be the one who would take the longest. There weren't many things that caught your eye there; you only ended up picking up a black wool sweater, an oversized cotton T-shirt, some sneakers, and a gold ring.

Dani, on the other hand, was a Burberry ambassador, and therefore felt a greater affinity for the brand than you did. Her choices were more varied, and while you didn't end up approving of all of them, the number of items she bought almost doubled yours.

And of course, she also struck the first blow.

Without you realizing it, she'd sneaked a swimsuit into the clothes she was going to try on, and she sent you a photo from the fitting room wearing the tight garment, which perfectly hugged her slim, curvy figure. There were two photos: one from the front and one from the side. Both blatantly suggestive. The design was very pretty, it was worth noting: white stripes and black checks on a beige base. Approved.

The next stop was right in front, across the street. Pucci's extravagant and colorful prints weren't exactly your favorite, so you didn't check out too many things: just an iridescent hoodie, some swim shorts, a lighter case—yes, they had those—and a three-pack of trunks. It's not like you had much to do with it, either; Pucci was a brand more focused on women, and the men's section was tiny compared to the rest of the store.

Dani took her time again. Her tastes matched her personality, and unlike you, she loved colorful clothes with abstract designs. So she swept every corner of the store, grabbing item after item to try on. She also included a three-pack of briefs, which she thought you hadn't realized she'd snatched.

So it didn't take you by surprise when, from the fitting room, she sent you photos of herself trying on the panties. One photo for each style: the multicolored one, with an abstract pattern of curved shapes in black, white, pink, purple, and beige; the white ones, and the black ones. Now you received back shots of her pretty ass, and also close-up shots of her crotch at stupidly hot angles. Approved. And now you were horny.

"You know I'm throbbing for you right now, right?" you asked quietly in her ear as she paid for her clothes. You'd already paid for yours. Between Burberry and this one, you'd already spent around $5,000.

Dani held back a smile and turned around after a few seconds to lean closer to your ear.

"Good for you," she replied. "But we still have a lot of stores to see. Hang in there."

Reluctantly, you followed her back to the opposite side of the street, this time to enter Tiffany & Co.—where the necklace you bought for Wony was from. Being a jewelry, watches, and accessories brand, there was no attack towards you this time. But it was by far the place that took you the longest.

Dani could afford to buy everything she'd been buying up until now, yes. But there were things in that store whose prices were exorbitant, so she only ended up buying two pairs of earrings for 3.100 euros each. What she didn't know was that you were feeling pretty generous that day, and you let her choose anything else regardless of the price.

Her choice was a diamond ring, specifically the Tiffany Titan designed by Pharrell Williams. 12,000 euros. Convincing her that it was fine and that you wanted to buy it because you wanted to was a difficult task, but in the end, you managed to get her to leave the store wearing the ring and with a smile on her face.

The next store was Celine. There, the number of items you bought broke that day's record, but it was Dani who was most hesitant about her choice. There were only a few things she actually tried on that you approved of. That was because her focus had changed: more damn swimwear.

Celine had been one of the stores with the most swimwear so far, and you were sure Dani had sent you photos of herself in almost all of them, including the bikinis. Some were prettier than others, you even told her to buy a pair. But they all shared the same common factor, and that was her tight body looking delicious in every single photo.

It was already getting too difficult to hide how needy you were for her. Dani knew it, and she enjoyed every second of it, knowing that, despite you being the guide and the reason she was there in the first place, she was in control. Everything indicated that she wouldn't be satisfied until you set foot in every single store on the damned street.

Sadly, that’s how it was.

Alexander McQueen, Balenciaga—one of your favorite brands—, Fendi, Jil Sander, Prada—where, to your surprise, the attendants already recognized you as a new brand ambassador, and let you choose whatever you wanted to take with you at no cost—, Gucci, Giorgio Armani, Bvlgari, and finally Versace. In absolutely every store you bought at least one or two items, and you didn't even keep track of how much you'd spent anymore.

The problem was that the number of bags you were carrying was bordering on the bizarre. You didn't know the exact number; you only knew that you were also holding two with your teeth and that you'd have to make two trips.

Thank goodness the car was close, because you were starting to feel empathy for the poor pack animals. The bags you were already carrying filled the back seats and the footwell, while the rest went into the trunk next to Dani's suitcase.

"Jesus, it seems like we raided the entire street," you sighed, getting into the car. You closed your eyes with your hands on your knees, your head resting on the seat.

"It was quite a productive afternoon, don't complain," Dani replied.

"I have plenty of reasons to complain."

Dani didn't respond. You heard her shift in her seat, but you thought she was just searching for something in her bag or something else. When you opened your eyes and looked at her, your eyes nearly popped out of your head.

She had taken off the heavy skirt she was wearing, along with her shoes. Now she was wearing only her black polo shirt, stockings, and a pair of black panties. Your sense of alarm went off, making you look around in every direction in case anyone was watching. The car windows weren't completely black, just tinted, so if anyone had taken a look, they would have seen Dani half-naked in the passenger seat.

"Dani, what the fuck are you doing?!" you asked, rushing to start the car.

"I'm making up for the inconvenience," Dani retorted, and as you hurried to get out of there, she reached out to squeeze your cock through your pants. "Or are you not throbbing for me anymore?"

"You didn't have to fucking strip in the middle of the square," you scolded her, driving without knowing where to go. An alley was what you were looking for, but being so central in the city, it would be a difficult task. "Someone could have seen you."

"So what? No one knows me here," Dani said, unbuttoning your pants to unzip them and slip her hand into your boxers. Her fingers wrapped around your cock, rubbing it until it was hard. "To them I would’ve just been some exhibitionist Asian whore."

"At least one of those three things is true."

You gasped as Dani pulled your pants down to your mid-thighs and held your cock upright, slowly moving her hand over it.

"Yeah, I may be a whore," Dani acknowledged as she gave you a lazy handjob. "But you've been craving this whore's pussy all afternoon. You haven't even bothered to hide it."

Well, that was a point well earned.

Dani sped up her hand movements, not caring how focused you had to be to drive through certain stretches and certain curves. Then she climbed onto her knees in her seat and spat into her hand before returning it to your shaft. Her wrist was now moving at a fast, steady pace. Not abrupt or frantic. Careful and measured.

As you stopped at a light, Dani stopped her hand and moved from sitting on her heels to back on the seat, only now, carefully, she leaned her back against the car door and stretched her long legs into your lap, lifting her feet and removing her stockings right next to your face. With her now bare feet, she lowered them to your cock and took it between them.

"Dani, for God's sake," you gasped, taking one hand off the wheel and moving it to her lower abdomen, rubbing her pussy over her panties with your thumb. "How do you expect me to drive like this?"

"Find a way. That's not my problem," Dani replied, now masturbating you with her pretty feet.

You were forced to return your hand to the wheel when the light turned green, and also to speed up as you searched for an alley. All the while Dani's feet moved up and down on your cock. At certain points, you could afford to touch her, rubbing her slit again and again until her panties were wet. It got to the point where her panties were already pushed aside, and whenever you could afford to finger her, you did.

It took you 15 minutes to find a damn decent spot. Along the way, you'd probably angered more than one driver with your erratic driving, but it wasn't your damn fault.

The alley was narrow enough, with a residential building on the left and the wall of a small garage on the right. A few meters ahead, where the alley opened up, there was a guardhouse, but the lights were off and no one seemed to be inside. It wasn't the right place to take her outside and commit an obscene act, but at least it gave you discretion inside the car.

As soon as you parked and turned off the car, Dani swung her legs from your lap and hurriedly climbed over the console to straddle you. Her arms flung around your neck and her lips crashed down on yours. And you hurried to use the buttons on the side of the seat to move it away from the steering wheel and then tilt it all the way back.

Dani cradled your face in her hands, kissing you between small moans and heavy breaths. Her legs settled between the sides of your body and the car seat as you wrapped your arms around her slender body, sliding your hands under her shirt to feel her back, then lowering them to her small waist and then her ass.

You lifted your hips and pulled the rest of your pants down to your heels, then pushed Dani's panties aside to grasp your cock and rub it against her folds, already slick with wetness. Dani also lifted her hips and slowly impaled herself on your cock until she took it all inside her tight pussy.

"Mmmgh fuck," Dani moaned against your lips, moving her hands down to your chest. Her firm little ass rested against your pelvis. "I can't believe it's been six months since I last had this cock inside me."

"Time flies, huh?" You gasped, holding her waist as she began to move her hips, fucking herself with every inch of you. "And who knew the first time I was inside you was also on Italian soil?"

"Oh I wouldn't mind being fucked every time I set foot in this country if it was you."

Dani went slowly at first, letting you feel her grippy folds hugging your cock every time she lowered her hips. Her lips moved from yours to your jaw and chin, planting small kisses on them, something she, being such a romantic, loved to do. Meanwhile, you groped her ass with gentle squeezes, returning the kisses she gave you but on her neck.

The car began to shake a bit as Dani accelerated, now moving her hips as fast as she could without jumping. That changed when she managed to prop her feet up on the seat and start bouncing on your cock, her hands braced under your pecs and her eyes on yours. Her face, gorgeous as usual, twisted with moans until her mouth fell open and her head fell back.

"Are you gonna cum, hmm?" you asked, holding her under her buttocks as she bounced on your cock. The sight of her abdomen bulging with your shaft increased your revs a thousandfold.

Dani just nodded, stifling a moan against her bitten lip. The sound of her ass slamming against you drowned out the music playing from the car speakers far below.

Her orgasm simmered inside her until she exploded with a squeal that muffled against your lips as she fell forward.

You wrapped your arms around her as she came on your cock, her body shaking until she moved her hips up and down again. Then, with your hands on her tiny waist and kissing her, you took control and began to fuck her hard and fast. Dani sank her teeth into your lower lip and pulled it before looking up at you.

"Are you gonna cum as well daddy?" Dani asked, gently cradling your face in her hands. "Would you do it in my mouth? I don't want to get dirty yet."

"Dirtier than riding me in the middle of a remote alley?" you gasped.

"I don't have anything on hand to clean up the big load you're gonna shoot inside me," Dani's words rushed out of her mouth. "So I'd rather swallow it."

So be it, then. Honestly, you didn't feel like getting cum on the seat of a Maserati either. Sacrilege.

Your hands moved down to Dani's ass and squeezed it as you started going faster than usual. Seconds later, as your cock began to tingle, you patted her back in warning. Dani quickly got off you and stumbled to her seat, kneeling up, bending over you, and taking the tip of your cock between her lips as you jerked off.

Dani's small sucks and licks on your tip sped up your climax considerably, and just a couple of seconds later, you exploded inside her mouth.

Dani took charge and slid her lips down your cock to suck it and take your load in her mouth. Her moans as she swallowed drop after drop made you moan too, holding the back of her head as she slurped on your shaft with slow, deep strokes.

When you emptied your balls down her throat, Dani pulled you out of her mouth and licked her lips. She straightened her back and looked at you with a sly smile, still holding your cock.

"Shall we go to the hotel, daddy?" she asked in that tone of voice that always drove you crazy, and let go of your cock to look around. Once she made sure no one was watching, she laid her eyes on you again and tilted her head. "The appetizer was delicious, but I'm starting to need that lunch."

"Yeah, but please get dressed before a busybody comes along," you said, and sat up to pull up your pants and boxers. "Those are abundant in Italy."

Dani hurried to obey your order, readjusting her underwear and putting on her skirt as you returned your seat to its normal position. When she settled into her seat, you started the car and reversed out of the alley, turned around, and headed back to the hotel.

It was around 7:30 p.m. when you finally arrived at the Four Seasons. Getting out of the car, you immediately went inside to ask some bellboys to help you with the bags you and Dani couldn't carry and with her suitcase. One of the guys—the same one who had guided you to your suite yesterday—took the lead with Dani's suitcase. The other one escorted you from behind.

Dani frowned as you stepped out into the hotel garden, confused by the path you were taking.

"Are we camping or what?" Dani asked, looking at the trees around you as you left the hotel behind. Not bothered by it, but curious. As if the possibility excited her.

"Close, but better than that," you replied. "You'll see."

A couple of minutes later, Dani's face lit up as she saw the cabin in the distance.

"No way..." she said softly, the light from the lampposts near the roundabout reflecting in her pretty eyes. "Is that...?"

"Aha," you nodded.

Dani was as amazed as you were yesterday as you passed under the arch, unable to close her mouth. She gasped in surprise as she stepped through and looked around the immense garden you had, paying special attention to the pool. The bellboys continued walking and went to leave the things they were carrying in the living room, not in the bedroom since you had left those doors closed with the curtains drawn.

"Oh gosh, this is gorgeous!" Dani sighed, a small smile on her face. The bellboys returned and offered to carry what you were carrying inside as well. "Yes, please. Thank you."

"I knew you'd like it," you smiled, handing the bags you were carrying to one of the bellboys. "Fratello, sai parlare inglese?"

"Of course, sir," one of the bellboys nodded with a thick accent.

"When you get those things inside, can you put that table here in the garden?" you asked, pointing to the table on the right side of the cabin under a small porch. "It's for lunch."

The bellboy nodded and, along with his colleague, carried the rest of the things inside.

"Man, I could live here forever," Dani said, taking a few steps onto the grass.

Dani walked a little further, passed under the umbrella, and stood on some wooden planks placed end to end to dry off after getting out of the pool. She stood on her tiptoes to peer in.

"Good thing you bought swimsuits, huh?" you asked with a chuckle, watching out of the corner of your eye as the bellboys carried the table to where you'd indicated.

"See? And then you say the afternoon wasn't productive," Dani giggled.

When the bellboys had put everything back in place, they returned to you. You thanked them both, and as you passed under the arch, you went to Dani's.

"Hey, let's go inside and call for lunch."

"Lunch? It's almost 8 at night."

"Dinnerlunch. Whatever the fuck you want to call it dude."

"Fair, let's go," Dani nodded and followed you inside. "We'll use that pool, right?"

"Of course we will," you replied. "But I think we'll have more fun in the indoor bathtub."

Dani just laughed before entering the cabin with you.

While you called the front desk, Dani took her suitcase and some of her bags to the bedroom to organize her clothes. She came back a short time later to decide what you were going to eat together.

The order you placed was large enough that you wouldn't have to order anything else for the rest of the night. You waited for it sitting at the table outside, still in your clothes since you wanted to eat before showering.

The wait staff arrived—quite understandingly considering how far the hotel was from the suite—about 15 minutes later, bringing your appetizers and drinks first. A classic bellini for Dani and a bergamot-infused negroni for you. Another 20 minutes later, the main courses arrived. Dani had ordered branzino al forno, with caramelized fennel and cauliflower puree, while you had fresh pasta with butter and white truffle. You both also had oven-roasted vegetables and arugula salad on the side.

"Hey, thanks for this, Ezio," Dani said a while later, when you'd finished your main courses. You were sipping white wine from your glass, a Vernaccia di San Gimignano. "This is just beautiful."

"Don't thank me, I like seeing people happy," you replied, setting your glass aside. "And I was looking forward to coming back here to Florence. So it's a win-win."

"You have to go to Milan after this, right?" Dani asked, then sipped her wine.

"Yup," you nodded, picking up a slice of veal left over from the appetizer and bringing it to your mouth.

"How are you holding up with that? Prada Global Ambassador, who would have thought."

"I try not to think about it," you replied, still chewing but covering your mouth with the back of your hand. "If I think about it too much I'll end up having a panic attack."

"But isn't it one of the things you've always wanted?"

"It is. But it's a whole new level of pressure for me. More exposure. More fame. You're never prepared for that stuff."

"I don't think you're taking the fame badly," Dani tilted her head. "You've been doing well so far. Although I understand what you're saying, now you have to be twice as perfect with all those cameras pointed at you."

"Yeah, and I've never dealt with anything like that. Not in the art world, at least."

"It's a new step, dear."

"A huge one," you sighed. "Anyway. Are you going to shower first, or am I?"

"Me," Dani carefully rose from her seat and took a quick sip of her wine. "And then I'll get back to organizing what I bought."

"Okay, hurry up."

Dani went inside, and you stood there alone, gazing at the slightly cloudy night sky while smoking a cigarette. After finishing it, you left two 500-euro bills under a salt shaker as a tip and went inside to call reception to come and collect the dishes. The only thing you brought inside was the bottle of wine, which you'd pay for separately.

While Dani showered, you started closing the remaining door and curtains, and, just as she'd planned, organizing all the clothes you'd bought. When she came out after about 20 minutes, you'd already replaced most of the clothes in your suitcase with new ones. But that left you with the small problem of not knowing what to do with the old ones.

"And now what am I supposed to do with all this?" you asked yourself, pointing at the clothes you'd left on the floor.

"I don't know," Dani replied behind you, getting dressed. "Buy a new suitcase?

"How the hell am I going to take three suitcases to Milan?"

"If you're taking two, you can take three."

"I don't think that's how it works," you turned your head to look at her out of the corner of your eye. "Can I turn around now?"

"No!" Dani said quickly. You could smell the oatmeal in the body lotion she was applying.

"I've seen you naked before, what's the difference?"

"Vulnerability!"

You sighed.

"Well, I'll go take a shower," you stood up. "By the way, I brought my Switch. Wanna...?"

"Yeah!"

"Nice. You can go take it out of my backpack and set it up." I'll be right back."

You walked straight to the bathroom, undressed, and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water run over your body for about five minutes before actually washing yourself. When you were finished and walked out to the bedroom with the towel around your waist, you found Dani kneeling in front of the TV, plugging in cables.

"That's it, stay like that while I get dressed," you said, going to get your clothes.

Dani chuckled.

"Vindictive bastard."

You hurriedly put on your sleepwear and went to help her. With the Switch already installed on the TV, you both climbed into bed and started playing a new game of It Takes Two—the main one was untouchable, since it was your game with Wony. The hours flew by, and you ended up leaving it when Dani felt sleepy around 1 a.m.

The next day was going to be long with all the destinations you were taking Dani to, so you couldn't afford to go to bed much later. You stood up and went to put the JoyCons back in their holders, then closed the doors and went back to bed with Dani. Soon you were asleep.

Dani woke up before you the next morning. She was the one who opened the bedroom curtains, allowing sunlight to filter through the glass door and shine directly into your eyes.

That morning you had breakfast in the suite, and immediately afterward you got dressed to head to your first stop: the Cathedral of Santa Maria del Fiore.

Before entering, you spent about half an hour seeing it from as many angles as possible, admiring the beautiful white marble façade full of small details. Then you went inside the Duomo, and finally, you paid for the access to Filippo Brunelleschi's dome.

The 463 steps you climbed to reach the top of the dome were worth every second of physical effort, as you ascended, you saw the Judgment Day frescoes by Vasari and Zuccari up close. Once you reached the top, you were greeted by a beautiful panoramic view of all of Florence that made you forget you couldn't feel your legs anymore.

About ten minutes later, after taking as many photos as possible and having the private guide you had hired fill you in on the historical context, you descended from the dome and left the cathedral to walk right next to it, to Giotto's Campanile, one of the four monuments in Piazza del Duomo.

The visit was brief there. Your legs were sore from climbing the dome a moment ago, so you settled for seeing it from the outside, delighted with admiring the bas-reliefs and niches at the base of the tower.

The tour of Piazza Duomo ended with the Baptistery of San Giovanni, one of Florence's most famous religious buildings and the oldest in the square. This was by far Dani's favorite monument, simply because of the great amount of natural light it received and the impressive Byzantine mosaics inside the dome.

The next stop was the Mercato Nuovo and then the Mercato Centrale, both local markets with vendors everywhere. There, you bought souvenirs and tried street food, and when it was time for lunch, you headed to the Enoteca Pinchiorri, a magnificent 3-Michelin-star restaurant.

After that, you still felt good enough to continue. First, to Piazza della Signoria, probably the most famous square in all of Florence and the most visited, packed with historic buildings and points of interest. You let the rest of the night go by before heading out to dinner, and exhausted from that meal, you returned to the hotel around 11 p.m.

"Fuck, I'm exhausted," Dani sighed, dropping her bag on the coffee table in the living room before throwing herself onto the couch.

"And me," you said, closing the glass doors behind you. "Those 463 steps left me feeling dead."

You walked around the table and went to sit on the other couch, sinking into the seat with your head resting on a pillow. Dani rolled over to look at you.

"Are you sleepy already?" Dani asked.

"Nah, why?" You raised your hands to hug the pillow behind your head.

"I don't know, I thought we could... you know, do something."

"Something like what?"

"Didn't you tell me we could have fun in the tub?" Dani raised an eyebrow.

You smiled.

"I was waiting for you to say that." You let go of the pillow and leaned forward. "Because actually, I prepared for it."

"Oh, did you?"

You stood up and stood beside the couch where she was lying, hands clasped behind her back.

"Will you wait here, please?"

"Go ahead, take your time," Dani giggled.

All the things you were going to use to prepare the tub were inside one of the dresser drawers in the bathroom. It was the morning Dani arrived—before you left the hotel—that you had all of that stuff brought in, and of course you had spared no expense.

The first thing you did was partially close the blinds on the window on the wall next to the tub and close the curtains on the window facing the entrance, allowing only a minimum of light from outside to filter into the room. Then you started arranging scented candles: one in each corner of the tub, and three more arranged in a triangle above the dresser. After turning them all on, you turned off the room lights and made way for the dim candlelight.

The next step was to find your portable speaker and put on a playlist of R&B and jazz of your own making, so you could concentrate on preparing the bath. While you filled it with hot water, you added mineral bath salts, a few drops of rose essential oil, and a splash of oat and almond oil to make the water silky smooth. The foam was generous, enough to cover your skin but not making it look like shaving foam.

With the bath ready, you slipped out as quietly as possible to the living room to grab the bottle of white wine you had bought and a bowl of raspberries, grapes, and pieces of milk chocolate from the mini-freezer. You placed everything on a silver tray on the floor to one side of the bath: the glasses with chilled white wine on the sides, and the bowl in the center. Finally, on the edge of the tub, you placed massage oil, a natural sponge, and homemade soap.

"Dani! Come here!" you called her.

Dani hurried to answer your call and bumped into you outside the tub room. She tried to sneak a look behind you, but you shifted your body so she couldn't see much.

"Wait a minute," you said, standing under the frame. "Close your eyes."

Dani obeyed, and you were quick to stand behind her and cover her eyes with both hands.

"Come on, walk forward," you whispered in her ear.

You and Dani walked into the tub room. Then you uncovered her eyes.

"Oh my god..." Dani gasped, looking around with a small smile. "You did all this by yourself?"

"Well, yeah, what do you think? All the doors are locked."

"Wow... you really went all out in here," Dani giggled, taking a few steps forward before squatting down on the side of the tub. She moved her fingers on the water. "Oh, it's warm."

"You like it like that?" you said behind her.

Dani looked at you over her shoulder.

"I love it. You know that."

"Should we go in?"

"Yeah..." Dani stood up to face you. "But close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Just do it, Ezio."

You closed your eyes, and instantly heard Dani stir. Clothes falling to the floor, and then the water stirring after a slight splash.

"You can look now."

When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was the pile of Dani's clothes in front of your feet, bra and panties included. Then you looked up and found her in the tub, sitting on the right side, the foam in the water covering her breasts.

"You did that so I wouldn't see you naked?" you chuckled.

"A little playfulness never hurts, right?" Dani said with a raised eyebrow. She'd also pulled her hair back into that signature double bun that looked so pretty on her, with a few strands falling down the sides of her forehead.

"Don't look at me either."

Dani giggled.

"Okay, okay. I won't."

Dani covered her eyes, and you quickly stripped down to get into the tub with her. The space wasn't too big, so you ended up touching the sides of her buttocks with the insides of your feet when you stretched out your legs. Dani then stretched out her legs too, resting her feet on your lap, right at the top of your thighs.

"Gosh, the water is delicious," Dani sighed, closing her eyes for a moment to lean back against the tub wall. When she opened them again, she looked at the floor beside you. "And what about that massage oil?"

"I don't know, just in case," you left both arms out of the water so you could pick up your wine glass. "Do you want some?"

Dani also picked up her glass, along with a couple of grapes, which she brought to her mouth to wash down with the wine.

"Mmm, che buono," Dani said, and couldn't help but laugh at your face.

"You've picked up Italian expressions so quickly?" you chuckled, as she picked up another couple of grapes.

"It's not that difficult, you say them without realizing it," Dani brought a grape to your mouth.

You plucked the grape from between Dani's fingers with your mouth.

"It's the consequence of spending days back here, sorry," you said, chewing the grape. "When I return to Korea it will be horrible to have to speak Korean again."

"God, don't even mention it," Dani sighed, and thinking you wouldn't notice, she placed a foot on your thigh, moving it very slowly. "I've been speaking English for a whole month now."

Like her, you discreetly placed your left hand on her knee to caress her skin with your fingertips.

"You can move here to Italy," you tilted your head, staring into her eyes. She looked gorgeous in the candlelight. "Naples would suit you perfectly; you're a sunshine girl."

Dani giggled, holding your gaze. Her foot moved closer to your crotch, very close to your pubic bone.

"In the future, who knows?" Dani took another sip of her wine and popped two pieces of chocolate into her mouth. "I haven't closed the door on crazier things."

"Even if it means moving to a completely different country than Australia or Korea?"

That night you were feeling peckish, eager to warm up, so you picked up your wine glass and emptied it completely down your throat.

"I'd need help, of course," Dani did the same as you, without a single scrunch, and set the glass aside. "You know, maybe a local advisor... sexy and handsome, preferably."

"As a northerner I don't think I'm exactly an expert on Naples. But I meet the last two requirements, I think."

"You meet them with flying colors, that's for sure," Dani inched her foot from your lap to your lower abdomen, caressing it with her toes. "And you're excellent at making your guests comfortable."

"Have you felt comfortable here in Florence with me?" Not wanting to be left behind, you moved your hand up as far as you could go without reaching so you could stroke her thigh with each finger.

"Oh, very comfortable," Dani nodded. "You've done a fantastic job as a guide. But you know what? I feel like you could..." Dani let the sentence hang in the air for a moment, and you felt her foot rise up your chest until it emerged from the water right in front of your face, covered in foam. "Do it better."

And with that alone, Dani got your blood pumping to your groin at the sight of part of her wet leg sticking out of the foamy water.

"Fuck, are you calling me incompetent?" you asked.

Dani laughed and rested her foot on your chest.

"What are you talking about, dummy? No, not at all." Dani moved her other leg underwater and pressed the sole of her other foot against your cock, accelerating your erection. "I'm just saying you can do even better."

"And how exactly could I do that?" you asked, taking her foot to lift it out of the water and skim off the foam. Her other foot was beginning to move along your cock.

"Just try," Dani replied. "I don't think it'll go badly for you."

Without further ado or wanting to delay the inevitable, you took Dani's foot by the heel and brought her big toe to your mouth. At first, the taste wasn't too pleasant, given all the bath products in the water, but that became irrelevant when you started salivating on her soft toes.

Dani muffled a moan against her puckered lips, rubbing you from tip to balls with her right foot. She picked up the wine bottle from the floor, and after uncorking it, she drank directly from it, a good gulp that went down her throat and spilled from the corners of her lips to her sexy neck.

"Do you want some, daddy?" Dani asked softly, while you swirled your tongue around her big toe and rubbed the underside of her thigh with your hands.

You nodded, took her foot out of your mouth, and lifted your head. Dani knelt up, finally letting you see her pretty little tits. She moved through the water until she was positioned on your lap, her knees on either side of your hips. She grabbed your head and tilted it back, and you opened your mouth for her to pour wine into it.

"It's delicious, isn't it?" Dani said, kissing you for a moment after you swallowed the wine. "What do you think of this?"

Dani took another long gulp of wine, then floated her face over yours and let the wine fall from her mouth to yours. That turned you on so much that your cock throbbed underwater and brushed against her pussy for a second.

"Fuck," you gasped, wrapping your arms around her slender frame to press her against you and taste her lips. "Give me your tits."

Dani lifted her chest and held her perky, wet breasts right in front of your eyes. You placed your hands on her back and brought one to your mouth. Dani immediately poured wine over her collarbone, letting it run down her skin and allowing you to suck it into your mouth from her breasts. As you did, she continued to drink straight from the bottle. Until, between gulps and spills, the bottle was empty.

"Turn around, darling," you said, giving one last suck to one of her nipples. "I know another way to make you comfortable."

Dani placed the empty bottle on the floor next to the tray and turned around to sit between your legs, resting her back on your chest and her head on your left shoulder. She turned her face so that it was inches from yours, and you gently took her chin and brought your lips together.

As your kiss heated up and you were exploring each other's mouths with your tongues, you slowly lowered one hand down her chest and toned abdomen until you reached her pussy, which you began to rub slowly with your ring and middle fingers.

Dani moaned against your lips and opened her legs, lifting them over yours. Your other hand slid from her waist to her breasts, cupping one to squeeze and pinch her nipple. Meanwhile, you gradually accelerated the movement of your right wrist until the rapid circles caused your lips to part and her to lean back against your shoulder and relax.

"Is this what you had in mind?" you asked in her ear, gently sucking on her earlobe. Dani twisted her hips slightly, causing your cock to rub against her lower back. "I hope I'm doing a good job."

"You're doing great, daddy," Dani gasped with her eyes closed, holding your left wrist with her left hand and your neck with her right. "But could you maybe...?"

No more words were necessary. You stopped your fingers, and between kisses on her cheek, you lowered them down her folds to carefully insert them inside her pussy. Deni tensed and tightened her grip on your neck as you reached deep inside her tight pussy, only leaving your knuckles outside.

"Open your mouth," you whispered as she let out a moan.

Dani obeyed, and you stretched out your left arm to grab a piece of chocolate and place it in her mouth. As she chewed, you made her moan by pumping your fingers in and out of her pussy.

"Oh fuck daddy," Dani moaned, her chest rising and falling with her labored breathing. She put her left hand underwater, slid it between your bodies, and with a grip that was somewhat uncomfortable for her, stroked it up and down. "I want to suck your cock so bad."

"Cum first and it'll be all yours, baby," you murmured against her neck, planting kisses.

"God, I'd be happy to."

Dani turned her face and met your lips again, arching her back and moaning against them as you pumped your fingers faster and faster. The water began to slosh and churn as you began to use all the strength in your arm to make Dani squeal with pleasure.

"Yes, yes... keep going, daddy, keep going, yes! Mmmmgh!!"

Part of Dani's breasts bulged out of the water as her orgasm crashed through her. You wrapped your left arm around her and held her close. Dani writhed underwater, causing some to spill over the side of the tub and nearly extinguishing one of the candles.

"That's a good girl," you gasped, your fingers deep inside her, only moving the tips to stimulate her upper wall. "Remind me what you wanted?"

"Suck your cock, daddy," Dani sighed, still trembling. "So bad."

"Let me up then."

Dani moved forward and gave you room to carefully stand up. When she turned around and got onto her knees, your erect, throbbing cock was between her eyes. Her hand quickly went to it to remove the lather and soap, and then she didn't hesitate to take it directly into her mouth.

You moaned as Dani's lips slid in a single motion halfway down your shaft, sucking on those first few inches without paying any attention to your eyes. Her hands stayed on the sides of your thighs as she pushed her limits further and further, finally stopping when her gag reflex kicked in just a few feet from your base. She pulled you out of her mouth with a gasp.

"Mmmm, so tasty," Dani moaned. She looked up at you while biting her lower lip. Her hand stroked your cock for a moment before placing wet kisses on the underside. "Are you going to give me the best fuck of my life with this cock, daddy?"

Dani took you back into her mouth and didn't let you respond immediately.

"God," you gasped, as Dani sucked your cock with slow, deep pumps. "I promise you won't walk well tomorrow."

"Good thing we're not planning on going out tomorrow, then," Dani replied one last time before focusing fully on giving you a wet and sensual blowjob.

Dani's loud slurps harmonized with the soothing jazz playing in the background. The scene was wonderful, and it felt even better. But Dani's slender body, wet and illuminated by the warm candlelight, was already starting to look irresistible to you.

A minute passed when you stopped her and helped her stand. Dani quickly grabbed your face and kissed you. You wrapped your arms around her in a tight hug, reciprocating the kiss while your hands moved to her back and ass. After a moment, you grabbed her by the waist and turned her around. Dani's first instinct was to bend forward, brace her hands against the wall, and arch her back to give you her ass. Then, you placed your hand on her lower back, took your cock and guided it between her buttocks, and slowly began to fill her tight pussy with throbbing flesh.

"Mmm fuck," Dani moaned softly. "Put it all in daddy, all of it. Please."

Dani let out a louder moan as the entire length of your shaft disappeared inside her tiny pussy. Her head fell between her shoulders, and she lifted it again to look at you over her shoulder. Your eyes locked on each other's as you began to pump your hips. Dani's tight walls forced you to go slowly at first, but as you stretched her inside, you finally allowed yourself to pick up speed.

"Fuck me hard daddy," Dani begged with a pretty moan. "My tight body can handle it..."

Despite her pleas, you took a moment to enjoy how good her pussy felt inside at a slow, deliberate pace, watching her outer walls clench so tightly around your shaft. There was no rush, and Dani didn't complain about it. But the look in her eyes told you that what she desperately needed was for you to pound her like an animal.

So be it.

With one hand gripping her tiny waist and the other on the back of her neck, you began pounding her pussy so hard that drops of water splashed out of her buttocks with each collision of your pelvis. Dani squealed, her tight body being shaken by every inch of your cock.

"Yes daddy, just like that!" Dani moaned, struggling to hold onto the wall without slipping. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!!"

Aware of the danger of her wet hands and the fact that she was holding onto a marble wall, you grabbed Dani by the wrists and pulled her arms back. She instinctively raised her body slightly, but kept her back arched so you could continue fucking her, while you held her behind her elbows.

Between strong, fast thrusts, Dani came a second time without warning, her knees shaking like the rest of her body. It was easy to fall there, so in an effort to avoid a tragedy, you quickly pulled her towards you and pressed her back against your chest, holding her upright with your left hand on her neck and the other on her waist.

"Give me more, daddy," Dani said in a small voice, her hand on yours at her neck. She squeezed as a signal for you to do the same, and you did, tightening your fingers around her long neck. "Just like that, fuck."

A new round of hard pounding on her pussy began, causing Dani to erupt in a wave of screams that rattled your eardrums from very close range.

The fear of falling was still there; you felt it in the unreliable grip your feet had on the bathtub floor, so you wanted to get out of there quickly. The quickest solution was to slide your right hand from her waist to her pussy, and with the use of two of your fingers, rub her clit in quick circles while you fucked her until Dani came again.

"Oh my god!!" Dani screamed, thrusting her hips back. Her spasms shook every muscle in her body. "So goood!!"

"Let's go outside, baby," you whispered in her ear after a minute, when Dani relaxed her muscles. "I wouldn't want to fall here and break my neck."

Dani nodded, and you pulled her out to hand her a towel. You both got out of the tub and dried off quickly.

"Want to try that massage oil?" you asked, somewhat desperate to get back inside her pussy but careful not to let it out.

"Whatever you want, daddy," Dani replied, leaving her towel spread out on the bathroom floor. She lay on top of it, her legs intertwined and her hands crossed on her abdomen as she looked at you.

You squatted down and grabbed the massage oil, a small purple bottle of about 300 milliliters that said it smelled of almonds and lavender. With it in your hand, you went to Dani and spread her legs to enter her pussy again. Dani arched her back and moaned, at which point you began pouring the oil in long lines all over her body.

"Mmm, it's warm," Dani said. Her eyes followed your hands as they spread the oil over her body, leaving her skin slick and shiny in their wake. "Do I look sexy?"

"You have no idea," you replied, now concentrating on her legs and moving your hips. You also covered her feet with massage oil.

Dani bit her lower lip and played with her own tits, circling her nipples with her fingers. Your slow thrusts against her pussy made her let out small moans.

"I want to do the same with you..."

"Absolutely."

You pulled out of her, and Dani stood up so you could lie down in her previous spot. She then straddled your lap, impaled herself on your cock, and, as she moved up and down, grabbed the bottle of oil and repeated the same process with your body. Your upper body was ready in a matter of seconds, and Dani then rode you in reverse to work on your lower body.

As Dani bounced on you with moans that became loud again, you noticed that her body from behind, both her back and her ass, were completely dry. So you took the bottle from her hand and let her continue enjoying your cock while you left that visible part of her skin glistening.

"Oh yeah, now we're talking," you gasped, and set the bottle aside to grab her slick ass as she bounced on your cock.

A few seconds later, you grabbed Dani by the shoulders and made her lie back against your chest. You wrapped your left arm around the back of her knees and pulled them up toward her torso. With another grip on her waist, you could now pump your hips up and down to fuck her.

"Mmmh fuck fuck fuck!" Dani moaned. Her back slid against your chest, making it difficult for her to stay still while she was pounded. Fortunately for her, neither of your grips weakened. Although you had to dig your fingers hard into her waist to keep her from slipping. "Harder daddy. Yes! Yes!"

Dani came a moment later. You both moaned. Her pussy smothered and throbbed around your cock. She gripped the sides of your body, spasming intensely, nearly causing her to fall to your left. You held her chin with your right hand and made her kiss you as she rode out her orgasm.

"Darling, I need a break," Dani said against your lips before looking into your eyes. "Are you close?"

"Enough," you nodded with a gasp.

"Use my feet," she planted a small kiss on your lips. "I know you love them."

It was somewhat embarrassing how quickly you lowered her onto the towel beside you and knelt in front of her legs. Dani gave you a teasing smile. She raised her feet, her soles facing each other. You placed your cock in the middle, and Dani brought her feet together to make a sandwich filled with your shaft.

"Oh lord..." you gasped, closing your eyes to enjoy how good her slick feet felt as you fucked them.

"Come on, daddy," Dani purred, looking into your eyes. "Give me that load... give it all."

You began pumping your hips rapidly, holding her feet by the heels to keep them in place. The sensation was overwhelmingly delicious, making you moan loudly as your climax approached.

"Fuck, Dani, I'm going...! Mmmgh!!"

A powerful jet of cum shot out of your cock as you thrust forward and exploded. It landed directly in Dani's mouth and between her breasts. As you continued pumping, the remaining jets landed on her abdomen and stained her feet as well. By the time you were done, Dani was a perfect canvas covered in thick white. So pretty, with such innocent eyes and a delicate face, it almost blew your mind.

"You came a lot daddy..." Dani said with a small smile, licking the cum that had fallen on her lips.

"Wanna go shower?" you asked, panting, still mentally dazed from that melting orgasm. "That way we can clean ourselves up."

"You still have something for me, don't you?" Dani raised an eyebrow.

"Of course I do," you nodded, struggling to your feet. "But just like you, I need a little break."

Dani extended her hand for you to help her up, and then you laced your fingers with hers as you walked slowly out of the tub, through the room with the sinks, and into the shower, a glass cubicle set between the marble walls.

It was a small space. Not claustrophobic, but small enough that with every movement your bodies brushed somehow. Dani slipped an arm under yours and turned on the faucet. The water fell cold on your body, but it turned lukewarm when Dani turned the hot knob.

Dani undid her buns and left her hair down as you washed the oil off your body. She then took your place under the shower, and with a sponge and soap, you helped her wash until her body was clean.

"Better?" you asked in her ear, your hands on her waist.

"Much better," Dani replied, pushing all her wet hair back. She turned her head to look at you as you kissed her shoulder. "And you? Have you taken your break yet?"

"Not yet," you replied, shifting kisses to her shoulder blade and then to her back. "There's something I still want to do."

You switched positions with her, leaving her facing the marble wall. Dani rested her hands there as you crouched behind her, trailing kisses down her back to her ass, where you distributed a short series of kisses and bites before parting her buttocks and planting your mouth on her pussy.

"Oh my..." Dani sighed as you ate her pussy from behind with slow licks and kisses. "I was starting to wonder when you were going to eat me out."

The warm water fell over your lower back as you devoured her, hands on her thighs. Dani's moans began to flow, indicating which spots to hit faster or which to kiss. She placed a hand on the back of your neck, tangled her fingers in strands of your hair, and as she pushed her hips back, she pulled you into her buttocks to smother you with them.

"Fuck, daddy, I missed your tongue so much," Dani moaned, tugging at your hair. Her pussy was soft and delicious. Addictive like few others. "Please make me explode in your mouth."

More than a request, that sounded like a challenge which you took very seriously. You slid your hands from her thighs to her buttocks and squeezed both, moving your tongue faster and using your head to move it in different ways. When you found the right one, you held onto it and used it until you made Dani cum.

"Mmmgh, that feels so good!" Dani squealed, grinding her ass against your face. You collected her juices and drank them, with the thirst of a castaway who had been on a random Indonesian island for days. "Put your cock inside me, daddy, please. You still have to fill me."

"Fuck, Marsh," you gasped, pulling away from her ass. "What's with this sudden thirst for cock?"

Dani didn't respond as you stood up and smashed your lips together again. She used the same hand she'd had in your hair to grab your cock and stroke it until it was hard. Then, in the middle of a hot, sloppy kiss, she guided your cock between her ass cheeks and back into her pussy.

"Mmm, are you going to fill my pussy with cum daddy?" Dani asked between kisses. You were already starting to move, both hands clamped around her waist. "Please fill me deep."

"Fuck, woman, that's what I intend to do," you managed between gasps. For some reason, you were exhausted, and you weren't sure how much you could match her energy level. But you were going to make the effort. "Just be a good girl for daddy and keep cumming."

Dani nodded between moans and bit your lower lip before kissing you again.

A sudden, autopilot trance took over you, erasing consciousness and the notion of time. All you knew was that within seconds you were fucking her like an animal against the bathroom wall, biting and kissing her neck until she came.

But without even giving her a chance to calmly ride out her orgasm, you lifted her right leg behind her knee and made her stand sideways, her thigh resting against your left arm. Similar to the way you fucked Rina that time in the elevator. Only Dani's body was considerably thinner, and the spots your cock hit in that position were more sensitive to her.

Dani squealed with pleasure, unafraid of being too loud for someone to hear. She came a second time. And then you, without thinking, lowered her leg and picked her up in your arms. Her back was pressed against the wall, her arms wrapped around your neck. Your hands spread her thighs wide, pinning her knees against the wall as you pounded her into an intense frenzy.

"Oh my fucking god!!" Dani screamed, clawing at your back with her nails. "Yes, yes, yes!!" Her screams were getting louder, and you were sure she was crying with pleasure now.

It was incredible considering the temperature in Florence at that moment, but fucking that woman had you sweating like a motherfucker. She enjoyed it three times as much, which was all that mattered to you. But for God's sake, you weren't going to need any cardio for at least two weeks.

"Cum inside me, daddy!" Dani moaned in your ear, no longer knowing what to hold on to. "I can't feel my fucking legs anymore, damn it!"

Panting like a raging bull in the middle of a run, you entered the final stretch of your climax. All your blood rushed down like adrenaline shots, until with a heavy snort, you dug your fingers into the flesh of her thighs and exploded inside her.

"YESSS!!" Dani screamed, cumming at the same time as you. The thick, abundant load you shot inside her only made her moan louder. "Oh my god, I'm going to pass out!"

"Calm your slut ass down," was the first thing you said after all that time. "I don't want to carry a dead weight out of the shower."

Dani held onto you as you emptied your balls inside her and her muscles spasmed. Completely spent, you pulled out of her pussy and let all your cum seep through her folds and spill onto the shower floor like a waterfall.

"Satisfied, darling?" You asked, looking into her eyes closely. Your arms were starting to hurt from carrying her.

"Can't you continue?" Dani asked.

You chuckled, incredulous.

"Unfortunately not," you shook your head. "At least not right now. Forgive me."

"No, silly," Dani stroked the back of your neck. "Nothing to apologize for. It's fine. You did a lot, actually."

"Not enough to quench your slutty thirst, I see."

"I never said I wasn't satisfied, I just asked if you could continue."

"And I already said no, so let's go to fucking bed, please."

"Should we clean the tub?"

You thought about it for a moment. Having to empty the bathtub, clean the floor, pick up the tray, put away what you hadn't eaten, the glasses...

Fuck, what a drag.

"No, save it for tomorrow morning."

"Fair. We'll be here all day, right?"

"That's what I had in mind, yeah."

And that's exactly what happened.

After going to bed that night, you slept a peaceful 10 hours and woke up around 11 a.m. You spent the whole day in the cabin, enjoying the outdoor pool, getting wasted on martinis and negronis, and playing games on your laptop.

By the next morning, you were both ready to catch your respective flights. Dani would be returning to Australia to meet her sister. And your next stop was the terrifying, intimidating, and also exciting Milan Fashion Week. The biggest black sheep moment of your life, potentially.

But you were so fucking ready.

[keeryhours]

don’t say you love me - chapter one

Masterlist Series Masterlist Tag Lists

Eddie Munson x Hopper!reader, Billy Hargrove x Hopper!reader

Summary:

You get yourself into a situation with two guys you should have absolutely nothing to do with.

Warnings:

Smut (18+), unprotected and protected p in v, creampie, oral (f receiving), fingering, weed use, angst, pregnancy, love triangle

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N:

Thank you so much @feral4youu my love for the idea for this fic! Your mind never ceases to amaze me.

You loved your dad.

As far as parents go, he was the best you could ask for. Loving, kind, not too terribly strict despite being the police chief. And he really, truly did love you.

Your mother had always been distant. When she left the two of you with nothing but a note, it hadn’t even been that big of an adjustment. It had always been you and your dad, and as long as you had him, you knew things would be alright.

You’d always had the type of relationship where you felt you could tell him anything. He’d come home from a long day at work and sit in the recliner with his beer, happily listening to you tell him the latest gossip in your friend group. He would listen with full attention, every now and then a genuine reaction - raised eyebrows, “Tina did what? With Carol’s boyfriend?”

The only things he could be strict about were grades, and boys.

You weren’t allowed to date until you were 15. And even then, any guy who wanted to take you out had to go through such rigorous questioning, they felt it wasn’t worth the effort. You were popular - head cheerleader, friendly, friends with the right people, smart and head of your class, and beautiful, according to the Hawkins population. So it’s not like you had a shortage of guys willing to take you out.

But your dad was having none of that.

“You don’t understand,” your dad would say. “Men are dogs, sweetheart. You’re better off without ‘em.”

Things changed your senior year.

You properly met Eddie Munson, first of all. He was a Super Senior, on his second attempt. And it’s not like you didn’t know of him before - everyone in Hawkins knew of Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson. Most of your friends had been buying weed from him for years.

Eddie always flirted with you. He’d act like a total gentleman any time you were around, making space for you to walk, holding doors open for you, pulling your chair out when you sat down during class. When you’d go with Carol and Tina to buy, he’d single you out specifically, call you beautiful and make eye contact with only you.

“Think the Freak has a crush on you,” Carol laughed as the three of you left with your stash of weed.

“You think?” you asked with hope in your voice and butterflies in your stomach.

“Oh please, don’t tell me you’d consider it?” Tina said, her eyebrows raised.

“No, of course not,” you said. “I just…didn’t think he liked me like that.”

“He’s obsessed with you,” Carol said. “It’s obvious. He’s got a major hard-on for you.”

You blushed. “I don’t think-“

“Oh, he totally does,” Tina added. “So gross.”

“And you know Jason Carver has been into you for years-“ Carol said, but you cut her off.

“You know my dad doesn’t let me date,” you reminded her, mostly just to get off the subject of Jason.

“Which is so dumb,” Carol said. “Does he want you to die alone?”

“Probably,” you mumbled.

The next time you saw Eddie, you were both alone. You had been sitting out on the picnic table in the woods behind the school, wanting time alone. The sound of Eddie’s footsteps had startled you.

“Sorry,” Eddie said, a friendly smile on his face as he held his hands up. “Didn’t expect anyone to be out here.”

“Me either,” you said, putting your feet back on the ground to get up. “Sorry, I’ll just-“

“No, stay,” Eddie had said. “I could use the company.”

Eddie was easy to talk to. He was funny, he was nice, he made you feel comfortable. And when he ended up standing between your legs, his lips on yours and his hands gripping your bare thighs, well, you couldn’t say it was totally unexpected.

Eddie was your first, and you were his. But once you’d had sex, he was feral for it. You hooked up near constantly, any time he could pull you away without suspicion, he would.

You had been scared at first. You knew it would be a disaster if your dad found out. Not only were you not supposed to be doing anything with guys, but this was Eddie Munson. Your dad knew perfectly well what Eddie did for extra cash.

You had a few particularly close encounters. You always either rode the bus or got a ride from a friend home after school - your dad worked late and never had time to pick you up. So, you started spending your time with Eddie after practice.

“Fuck, baby,” Eddie panted from behind you. His hands gripped your hips tightly, light bruises appearing beneath his fingers. He didn’t even notice, too lost in his own pleasure he was chasing inside of you. “Always so tight. I’m gonna fuckin’ cum.”

“Please,” you gasped out. “I want you to.”

Eddie groaned, his hair tickling your back as his head dropped forward on his shoulders. His hips were rutting into you desperately, pumping his entire length into you. You could feel every ridge and vein of him - but you knew his shape by heart at this point.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled your body flush against his own. He thrusted hard into you a few more times, then, with a cry of your name, he came, filling you deeply.

When he pulled out, he could see his cum dripping out of you. He watched with wide eyes, wanting nothing more than to dive back in, his cock already twitching back to life-

There was a banging on the side of the van.

“Munson!” your dad yelled. “I know you’re in there, and it better not be with my daughter.”

You both froze. “Fuck,” Eddie whispered, jumping into action and pulling his boxers and jeans back on. “Fuck!”

You pulled your dress back down, then searched all around you. “Eddie, where are my panties?”

“Oh, shit, sorry,” he said, a sheepish grin on his face as he pulled the thin lace material from the pocket of his jeans and handed them over. “Just thought I’d keep a souvenir.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as you put them back on. There was another loud banging and then Eddie threw open the back doors just as you straightened out the skirt of your dress.

Hopper looked into the vehicle, looking very pissed off. He said your name. “What are you doing in here?”

You wished you had thought of an excuse before this moment. “We have a project together.”

“Oh yeah?” Hopper didn’t sound like he believed you at all. “Where is it?”

Eddie met your eyes, like, you started this one, it’s on you. “We were just brainstorming. We just got it assigned today.”

Your dad sniffed the air- no doubt searching for the smell of weed. You just hoped he couldn’t smell the sex. When he didn’t recognize anything that set off alarms, he looked at you again. “Well, come on. I’m driving you home.”

You bid Eddie an awkward goodbye, then followed your dad to his car. You avoided looking at him as you buckled your seatbelt - you did just get your back blown out by Eddie in the back of his van, after all.

“Don’t hang out with him,” your dad said as he drove you home. “I’m serious. Anyone but him. Munson is trouble.”

“Dad, he’s not a bad guy-“

“Oh, come on,” he laughed. “I know what he does. And you’re too good to get involved in any of that. You have such a bright future, I don’t want to see it wasted on some loser.”

“Dad, Eddie is not a loser-“

“Sure,” he said. “But my point stands either way. Don’t waste time with him.”

You could still feel Eddie’s release between your thighs the whole way home.

Billy Hargrove came crashing into your life all on his own. He had come to Hawkins his senior year, taking over as the most popular guy in school. 

“He’s a fucking asshole,” Steve had said, slamming his locker shut to make the point. “Seriously. Stay far away from him.”

It seemed like that had always been a personal challenge for you.

You actually met Billy when he joined the basketball team. You spent a lot of time with the basketball guys, being head cheerleader. It was his first game with the team, and you had to admit, he impressed you. Billy was really good. Your eyes stayed glued to him the entire game, and he definitely noticed with the way he kept smirking in your direction every time he’d do something cool.

“I think Billy’s looking at you,” Chrissy leaned over and said with a huge grin on her face.

You found yourself smiling back. Sure you’d heard the rumors about Billy already, but it’s not like you needed him to fall in love with you. You were down to just have some fun.

Billy loved that about you. You caught his attention the first time he ever saw you, but once he realized you were down for no strings attached hookups? You became his favorite girl in town.

He approached you after that game as everyone was running to the showers. He was a smooth talker, that was for sure. He gave ladies man vibes the second you saw him, but hearing him talk, you could really see it. It didn’t take a lot of flirting before you were sneaking into the men’s locker room with him after everyone else had left, letting him undress you and then take you against the wall while the steam and heat surrounded you.

Billy couldn’t get enough of you once he’d had you. And once he found out you wanted to keep things secret because you were the police chief’s daughter? That made you even more irresistible.

“You’re hooking up with Billy?” Eddie said, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “Hargrove?”

“Um…yeah,” you’d said awkwardly, as Eddie was naked between your legs. He was kissing across your inner thighs, nearing where you needed him the most.

“Why?” he asked.

“Because I like him?” You sat up on your elbows, looking down at Eddie. “He’s not the worst guy ever like everyone says.”

“Only he is.” Eddie moved in and licked a stripe along your folds, making you gasp. “He’s a huge fucking asshole.”

“Well, I like him,” you defended as strongly as you could while Eddie was eating you out, groaning as he devoured you. He always knew how to get the last word of an argument.

“Why don’t you stop thinking about him and let me take care of you, baby?”

You were putting the last of your books away in your locker for the day when you felt a set of muscular arms wrap themselves around you, pulling you close into the owners’ firm body. Carol, Tina, and Chrissy gave you a mischievous look - it wasn’t hard to imagine who it was.

“Hey, baby,” Billy whispered into your ear. “What are y’doing?”

“Just getting ready to go home,” you said. “Carol’s driving me.”

Billy looked over at your friends as if noticing them for the first time. He gave them a wolfish grin before looking down at you. “Yeah, I think you’re gonna have a change of plans.”

“Oh yeah?” you laughed.

“Yeah,” he said again easily. “I think I’ll bring you home tonight.”

“Have fun, you two,” Carol said, then you watched as your friend group left you with nothing but a knowing look on each of their faces.

Billy was already kissing down your neck, his large hands sliding beneath the hem of your cheer skirt. “Need you so bad.”

You leaned back into his touch, nearly forgetting yourself and where you were. “Let’s go.”

You spotted Eddie on your way out, smoking a cigarette in the parking lot. You gave him a nod and he watched as you walked off towards the Camaro with Billy’s hand on your ass. For once, he thought it would be pretty funny if the police chief just so happened to be here.

Billy opened the passenger door for you, his hand trailing up your thigh as you slid into the seat. He was being needier than usual. Once he was seated himself, he started the car, his hand coming to rest on your bare thigh as he pulled out of the parking lot and sped off.

You always loved it when Billy drove with one hand like this. His fingers pushed up your skirt, playing with the hem of your panties. You were wet already, pushing down against him.

“Needy slut,” he hissed, although he was the one nearly begging for it. “Wait until I can get my hands on you.”

You expected him to take you to Lover’s Lake as usual, but instead he pulled up in front of his house. At least you assumed it was his house - a single story home with a screened in porch. No cars were outside. Billy had never taken you home before.

“Is this your place?” you asked him.

“Yeah,” he said. “But my dad and step mom went out of town for the weekend, so…we’re good.”

“What about your sister?”

“First of all, she’s not my sister,” he said. “And she’s staying with her friend. She won’t bother us.” He leaned over the seat towards you, placing a kiss on your lips. “We’ve got the place to ourselves all weekend. You could…even stay, if you wanted to.”

Billy was really asking you to spend the whole weekend with him? “Maybe.”

Billy smiled. He kissed you one more time, then the two of you climbed out of the Camaro. Billy unlocked the front door and you followed him inside. The inside of the house was much different than you expected. It hardly even looked like a family lived here. Billy’s weights were set up right off the living room with a tiny TV next to them. There was a closed bedroom behind it that you assumed was Max’s, then a hallway with more rooms to the right.

He dropped his denim jacket on the couch then opened the fridge and grabbed a beer, popping it open and taking a long drink. He was wearing a tight white t-shirt underneath the jacket, his even tighter jeans hugging his huge thighs. You could never say he wasn’t easy on the eyes.

He finished the beer and tossed it in the trash can, then turned to you. “D’you want anything? A beer, a soda, water…”

“I’m good,” you said. Billy smiled softly at you and then he spun you around, leading you down the short hall with his hand on your lower back. He opened the last door, revealing a bedroom that was definitely Billy’s, yet neater than you had been expecting.

His plaid bed sheets were tucked neatly, the bed made. There were no dirty clothes strewn across the floor. His cassettes and record collection were organized and put away. There weren’t even clothes poking out from his drawers. He had posters on his wall, Metallica you recognized, as well as some you didn’t know and some posters of girls.

Billy stepped around you, closing the door. “‘s not much,” he mumbled.

“It’s nice,” you smiled. He returned it.

“Now,” he said, “I’d like to see you on my bed.”

“Yeah?” you giggled as he wrapped his arms around you again, kissing all over your face and neck, down to what was exposed of your chest.

“Fuck yeah,” he said. His hands slid up your skirt again, grabbing your ass. He slapped it, making you gasp. 

“Billy!”

He groaned. “I can’t help myself, baby. Every time I get my hands on you, I can’t fucking help myself.”

He pushed your skirt down your legs so it pooled at your feet. You stepped out of it, kicking it away. Billy was already working on your cheer top, pulling it over your head.

His hands roamed your body, left in nothing but your bra and the tiniest pair of panties that left little to the imagination. Billy was losing his mind at the sight of them, his hands rubbing over your ass, up your sides and to your tits, nipping at your neck and chest.

“Gonna mark you up real good,” Billy grumbled against your skin. “Let Munson see what he missed out on.”

You playfully slapped at him- “Billy, don’t be an asshole.”

“What?” he asked innocently. “If I have to share, I can at least send you back with the proof of what I did to you.”

You gasped out a moan as he bit down particularly hard on your neck, sucking on the skin and running his tongue over the bite. “Fuck, I need you right now.”

Billy pushed you down onto his bed. You bounced slightly as you watched him watching you, eyes never leaving your body as he kicked off his shoes, tossed his shirt and worked his belt open. You were practically drooling as he revealed more of his incredible body to you. You had never been too concerned with muscles or build before, but Billy’s body was something else entirely. He was hot.

He was already rock hard as he undid his jeans and shoved them and his boxers down. He wrapped a large hand around his shaft, tip flushed red and glistening with precum. You could see his hand shuddering as he stroked himself, eyeing you like he could eat you alive.

“Fuck,” he whispered. He crawled over your body, pulling your panties down and tossing them anywhere. He placed his hands on your knees and slowly spread your legs, groaning as he finally saw your pussy, so wet and ready for him.

He made quick work of your bra, getting rid of that and immediately wrapping his lips around your nipple. You arched into him, bare pussy grinding against his cock, desperate for him to stop teasing and fuck you already.

“God, you’re such a needy little slut. And everyone thinks you’re this good girl.” He nuzzled against the side of your head, lips brushing your ear as he whispered. “What would your daddy think if he could see you like this? Desperate for my cock?”

“Billy,” you whined. “Please don’t talk about my dad right now.”

Billy chuckled, pulling back to drag his cock through your folds, teasing your hole every now and then. “I bet he thinks you’re off somewhere studying right now. Gonna get into a real good school, right? Following the rules, never lying…” His tip slipped inside and you gasped, fingers gripping onto his sheets. “Definitely not letting guys like me fuck you stupid.”

He sunk fully into you with a roll of his hips, his entire thick length splitting you open. He moaned as he began thrusting into you quickly, the sound of his skin meeting yours filling the room. You held tightly onto his shoulders.

“Billy,” you moaned, fingers threading through his mullet of dirty blonde curls. You pulled on them slightly - he always loved when you did that. This time it earned a stutter from his hips, a weak “H-oh,” from him.

Billy never liked to admit weakness, but he was weak for you. You knew all the right things to do, the places to touch, the things to say. What was he supposed to do?

He buried himself in you with every thrust, each one powerful and strong, rocking the mattress. He would never admit it to you, but he never fucked the other girls the way he fucked you. He loved to take his time with you, to feel every inch of you, to savor it. He loved fucking you slow, watching the cute faces you’d make every time he hit your g spot with the head of his cock. He just loved looking at you - especially when your face was twisted in pleasure he was giving you.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” he hummed, looking down at you. Your eyebrows were drawn together, cheeks flushed, the slightest bit of sweat across your forehead, lips parted. You looked so beautiful like this, he thought.

He grabbed onto your thighs and pushed them up, spreading you wider and giving himself a better view. He was able to get deeper like this, pound into you faster, and he took advantage of that.

“You feel how deep I’m in you?” he grunted, hand resting on your lower belly.

“M-mmhmm,” you attempted to hum in agreement, but then he was pushing down, groaning as he could feel the pressure against his cock, and you were- oh god-

“Billy,” you cried, “I’m gonna cum-“

“Yeah, shit, yeah, cum for me,” he panted, fucking you faster, his own release imminent. He hiked your leg up over his shoulder and leaned over your body, kissing you hard as he nearly bent you in half.

Your orgasm hit you, but every thrust of his cock was still hitting that spot and making it feel like it was lasting forever. You tried to tell Billy it was too much, but the way he was laying on you made it impossible. A few actual tears slipped from your eyes.

Billy noticed immediately. “Holy shit,” he said, and then he dropped his head into your neck and cried out as he came, pumping his load into you, thrusting in as deep as possible to make sure you got every drop.

His trembling body remained on top of you for a bit longer, then he rolled off, pulling out and laying down next to you. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, nuzzling his face into your neck. Billy Hargrove was not a cuddler after sex - usually it was okay thanks, bye. But with you…he never wanted to let you go.

You didn’t question it. You weren’t sure you wanted to go down that path.

Billy played with your hair as you laid there. He thought - about you, mostly. Should he actually ask you out? He’s been playing this cool guy who only does hookups role for so long, he’s almost forgotten how to initiate a relationship. Did he want one? With you, yes. Absolutely. So why didn’t he just ask? It drove him crazy that he knew you still slept with Munson. He had stopped sleeping with other girls. Sure, he hadn’t exactly told you that yet, because wouldn’t that make it too real? Would you even like that? Or would it scare you right back into Eddie’s arms? But if there’s one thing Billy knew, it’s how he felt about you.

You liked Billy. You really did. But could you even be together if you wanted to be? Your dad certainly knew of Billy, too. He’s just as high on the stay away list as Eddie.

But you let Billy cuddle you. You let him twirl your hair, trace your skin with his fingers, pepper your body in kisses and affection, whisper sweet nothings in your ear. 

Maybe it was wrong of you. Maybe you just wanted to feel loved. Maybe you really could love him back. Or maybe you never would.

You spent that weekend with Billy, with a promise to your dad that you were at Chrissy’s. You felt horrible lying to him, but there’s no way he would have let you stay otherwise. The thought was laughable.

You had never lied to your dad before this year. It felt horrible, like grime stuck to your skin you could never wash away. And to lie so you could sleep with guys? Who even were you becoming?

You didn’t dwell on that thought for the weekend. You allowed yourself to be spoiled by Billy - you fucked, you watched movies, fucked some more, cooked together, slept in bed cuddled together, fucked again. When you finally left Sunday evening, Billy had a perfectly sated smile on his face, leaning against his bedroom door in nothing but a pair of boxers, smoking a cigarette as you packed your stuff.

You heard the door open as you were zipping up your bag, then- “Ew, gross.”

You smiled as Billy scrambled to throw some sweats on. “Hey, Max.”

“Hey,” she greeted you. She always liked you, the times you’d been in the car while Billy drove her home or to the arcade. At least you were nice and didn’t totally ignore her.

“You sure you don’t want me to take you home?” Billy asked gently as you headed for the front door with your cheer bag. His hand rested on your cheek, looking into your eyes like you held the secrets of the universe there. “I don’t like you walking alone.”

“That would kind of give away the lie,” you said, with a forced playfulness. You didn’t exactly want to walk all the way home either, but you weren’t going to pull up at home in Billy Hargrove’s Camaro.

“Let me at least take you part way,” he said. “It’s a long walk.”

Eventually, you agreed to that. Billy put a shirt on and escorted you out to the car. He drove you most of the way home, stopping half a mile from your cabin. “You sure you’re good from here?”

“Yes, Billy,” you said. You were already climbing out of the car with your bag slung over your shoulder. “Thank you. For everything. I’ll see you around.”

“Yeah,” he said. “See you.”

Billy watched you walk as far as he could see, then found a spot to turn around and go back to his own house. He knew he needed to be there before his dad and Susan got home.

When you saw your dad was already at home, you breathed a sigh of relief that you hadn’t let Billy drive you all the way. You knew it was unlikely, but it was still a possibility. You walked up the front steps and let yourself inside.

Hopper looked up as you walked in, a smile on his face. “Well if it isn’t my beautiful daughter I never see. How was Chrissy’s?”

He didn’t sound suspicious at all, which was a good thing, but only made you feel a million times worse. “Good. We had fun.”

“Good,” he said. He took another sip from his beer. A pause. “That Munson boy called for you again.”

You almost rolled your eyes. You had told Eddie time and time again that you would call him. “Oh yeah? Probably just about the project.”

Your dad hummed. “You know I don’t want you spendin’ time with him-“

“-anymore than I have to, yeah I know,” you said. You tried not to let visions of things you and Eddie had already done flash through your mind, but you were powerless to stop it.

“He’s bad news, honey,” he said. “We’ve had him in the station a lot. Him and that…new Hargrove boy.”

Your cheeks flushed. Of course your two hookups were the entirety of the list. “I won’t, dad. I hardly even know them.”

“Let’s keep it that way,” he said. “You’re a good girl. You’re not dumb. Don’t do something dumb.”

“Where were you all weekend?”

Eddie’s voice purred in your ear as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close into his lean body. You giggled, letting him hold you, touch you.

“Billy’s,” you said, like it was nothing.

Eddie froze. “You were at Hargrove’s all weekend?”

“Well, yeah,” you said, turning around in Eddie’s arms. “His parents were gone for the weekend, so he asked me to stay over.”

Eddie was looking at you with his brows furrowed. “That’s serious.”

“No it’s not,” you said dismissively, waving that idea off. “He just wanted to get laid all weekend.”

“I’m telling you,” Eddie said, looking at you seriously. “It is. If Hargrove asked you to play house with him all weekend, it’s because he feels something for you. More than just sex.”

“Eddie, do we have to do this right now?” You played with the curls at the bottom of his neck, the ones that always drove him crazy. Eddie groaned, the fight leaving his body.

“Jus’ don’t want you forgettin’ about me,” he mumbled.

Your heart sunk. “Eddie, that’s not gonna happen.”

Much like Billy, Eddie also had constant thoughts of why he didn’t just ask you out. You were everything he wanted. The only thing he wanted. He didn’t look at other girls at all. He knew the thing with your dad would be an obstacle, but it didn’t have to mean there couldn’t be anything, right?

And he thought you liked him, too. That was until Billy came into the picture. Before Billy, you and Eddie just hooked up with each other, no one else. It was just a few words away from being official - at least that’s how Eddie saw it. When he learned you had started sleeping with Billy, he had to pretend to be a lot less phased than he was.

Because he had been hurt.

“What if Billy asks you out, huh?” Eddie asked. “What would you do?”

You looked up into Eddie’s big brown eyes. “Why haven’t you asked me out?”

Eddie didn’t know what to say to that. His lips parted, but no sound came. Before he could think about it too much, you connected your lips to his. Any thoughts that had been in his head swiftly left as he felt your tongue prodding against his bottom lip.

“Take me somewhere,” you whispered, and Eddie’s grip tightened on you like he was scared you’d drift away.

“Let’s go to my van,” he said.

You and Eddie practically ran out of the school hand in hand, giggling as you sprinted for his van. You got some strange looks from other students - even your friends didn’t understand your weird flip-flopping between Eddie and Billy - but you didn’t care. You never had. And you were well liked enough that no one was going to go tattling to your dad.

Eddie started up the van and drove off. He could and would have fucked you right there in the school parking lot where everyone could see the van rocking as he pounded into you, but he thought you deserved more than that.

So Lover’s Lake it was.

He pulled to a stop in front of the familiar lake, killing the engine. He nodded back towards the back, and you didn’t have to be told twice before you were climbing between the seats and to the large open space behind them. Eddie was right behind you, and then he was all over you.

He felt every inch of your body, like he couldn’t get enough of touching you. You kissed frantically, hands and lips everywhere. Eddie groaned, his pants even tighter than how they began. He shuddered when you ran your hand over the bulge in his jeans.

“Please,” he gasped. “Need you.”

Eddie could be dominant, but for the most part he was much more submissive than Billy. He had no problem begging, or letting you take control. Billy was different. He liked pushing you down, taking what he felt belonged to him. Eddie was all sweet touches and pleading and looking up at you with his doe eyes while he begged to cum.

You began undoing his belt and jeans while Eddie’s hand slipped beneath your dress. He stroked you over your panties, feeling the material soaked from your arousal. Nothing got Eddie off like seeing how badly you wanted him.

Just as you shoved his jeans and boxers down enough to free his cock, Eddie pulled away from you, pushing you back and making you gasp as he dove in between your legs. He buried his face against your cunt, breathing in your scent, nose pressed against the wet material of your thin panties. You gasped again when his tongue came out and licked you over the fabric.

“Need to taste you,” he begged. “You’re so fuckin’ sweet. Can’t resist this pussy.”

You whined. “Please.”

Eddie didn’t need to hear anything else. He slipped his ringed fingers beneath the waist of your panties and pulled them down, wasting not a single second before he was burying his face in your bare pussy. His long tongue licked along your folds, then he really dove in, two fingers slipping inside of you until you could feel the metal of his rings against your skin.

He thrusted his fingers as he worked that talented tongue over your clit, making your head absolutely spin as you writhed on the messy floor of his van. But how many times had he fucked you back here already? Eddie had fucked you lots of places, to be fair.

“Eddie, I’m- oh!” 

You cried as he sucked hard, your thighs trembling around his head, fingers tangling in his curls. You pulled on his hair, making him moan against your pussy. He was thrusting against the blanket beneath you, his dripping cock rubbing against the material providing some kind of relief.

He just needed you to cum for him, at least once. He didn’t think he could survive without it, didn’t want to cum inside you without the taste of your own release still on his tongue.

You were going to give him exactly what he wanted. You could feel it building deep in your belly, your chest heaving faster with the speed of your breaths. He sped up the pace of his fingers, his tongue working over you exactly the way he remembered you loved.

“Eddie!”

Eddie groaned as you tightened around his fingers, cumming all over his hand and mouth. He fucked you faster through your release, until you were covering your face and telling him to stop. When you couldn’t take anymore, he pulled back and placed a final kiss against your clit.

“Always taste so good,” he said with a wicked grin, like he’d gladly do it all over again. If he knew how Billy had made you cum so hard you cried, he would take it as a personal challenge.

He kissed you, pushing your dress up your body. You could fully taste yourself on his tongue, and it excited you. The first time Eddie had kissed you after going down on you, you weren’t sure you liked it - but it grew on you. He slipped your dress off over your head and threw it to the side.

“You’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know that?” he asked quietly as he nuzzled between your tits, kissing over every bit of exposed skin he could get to.

“That’s not true,” you said, like the natural reaction to being called beautiful was to shut it down as soon as possible.

“But it is,” he said. He looked down, then back up. “Do you see what you do t’me?”

“That’s not that hard to do,” you teased, and Eddie smiled.

“To this level, yeah, pretty hard to do.” He kissed you. “I only get this hard for you.”

“How romantic,” you giggled. Your laugh turned into a gasp when he bit down on your neck, covering a hickey Billy had left over the weekend.

“I can be romantic, if that’s what you want,” he said. “I just thought you liked getting fucked like a whore.”

“I do,” you said quickly. “I like both.”

Eddie smirked down at you. “I could be slow and gentle sometimes too, y’know.”

“I like when you fuck me,” you pouted.

Eddie chuckled. “I like fucking you too. I just, I don’t know…sometimes I wanna take it slow. Really look at you. Really feel you.”

Your heart was beating faster. “Yeah?”

Eddie was kissing across your chest now. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Can I do that?”

You thought about it. It seemed like it was awfully close to catching feelings, which you had promised yourself you wouldn’t do, for either of them. But the way Eddie made your heart beat, the way you wanted him to make love to you, wanted him to love you-

“Okay,” you said. “Just this once.”

Eddie smiled. He unhooked your bra and let you pull his t-shirt over his head. He kissed all over your body, taking his sweet time working his hips back between your legs.

“Don’t wanna use a condom,” he mumbled. “I wanna feel you. All of you.”

“You don’t have to,” you said. “I’m on birth control, you know that.”

Eddie knew that very well. He was paranoid about the consequences, though - usually he used a condom every time anyway, just to be safe. But sometimes…

“No fucking condom,” he said. He kissed you hard again as he lined himself up at your entrance, pushing just barely inside. He sunk into you with a slow roll of his hips, your body turning to pure electricity as you felt every single inch of him inside of you.

He was slowly grinding his hips into you, carefully thrusting at a pace slower than he’d ever used. It took everything in him not to pound you into the floor, but he was loving the feeling of savoring your body. He could really feel every inch of your velvety walls, the way you clenched around him, holding his cock tightly within your warmth.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, whispering right in your ear as he made love to you. “Feel so fuckin’ good. Always so tight for me, like your body was made for me. Only me.”

Eddie always got a little possessive, especially if he knew you had recently been with Billy. He would never say it, but it was obvious that it drove him crazy. He needed to claim you for his own.

Eddie’s lithe body rolled as he pressed his cock into you over and over, holding your body close to his. You could feel his heart beating against your own chest, and you wondered if he could feel yours, too. Eddie kissed your neck as he fucked you, covering every mark Billy had made.

He reached in between your bodies and rubbed against your clit. You whimpered, something had already been building just from the feeling of the way he was fucking you, taking you apart.

“Eddie,” you whined, “I’m…I’m gonna cum again.”

He groaned. “Yeah, baby, I want you to. Got to taste your cum on my tongue, now I wanna feel you make a mess on my cock.”

You whimpered again as Eddie began to lose himself, his hips speeding up back to a normal pace for him. His hips were snapping against yours, his moans becoming shaky and weak. You were throbbing around him as your orgasm built and built.

When it snapped, your mouth dropped open in a wide O, your nails digging into Eddie’s back and scratching down his skin, leaving bright red marks. You cried out his name again and again like a prayer, and the feeling of your pussy clenching around him combined with the look on your face pushed Eddie over the edge.

He came hard inside of you, grunting your name until it turned into more of a whine, a plead. He shook as he held onto you - Eddie always came so hard, so much. You could feel him filling you, feel the way he came so much it was dripping out from around him.

When he pulled out, he inhaled sharply, eyes glued to the mess he left behind. His favorite part, the part he didn’t get to enjoy when he used a condom. This was worth the risk.

“Fuck, look at you,” he remarked. “That’s so fuckin’ filthy.” His eyes remained glued to you, taking in the view, until a lightbulb went off in his head. “Shit, wait! Don’t move.”

You watched him curiously as he reached under his seat. He came back out holding a polaroid camera - and your eyes widened.

“I got it for us,” he said sheepishly. “Can I…?”

“You want to take a picture?” you asked, incredulous.

“Well, yeah,” he laughed. “I’ll be looking at this one every night.”

You weren’t sure how comfortable you were with this exactly, but he seemed so excited, you didn’t want to tell him no. “Okay. Just don’t get my face in it.”

“You got it.” Eddie moved back between your legs and lifted the camera to his face. He lined up the shot and took the photo. When it came out of the bottom of the camera, he held it up, waiting for it to develop. You knew it had when a wolfish grin spread across his features - “Oh, that’s a good one.” He looked up at you. “Do you wanna see?”

“I’m good,” you said, scrunching your nose up. You weren’t sure if you wanted to see yourself in that way - he could keep that to himself. He certainly seemed to love it, though, the way he kept staring at the image.

“Gonna cherish this,” he said with a smile. He stuffed the photo in the back pocket of his jeans. He grabbed a towel from the floor and cleaned you up with it, then handed you your clothes. You both redressed in a comfortable silence - you’d been here many times before.

“What do you want to do now?” Eddie asked. He pulled a cigarette from his pack. “I don’t really want you to go.”

You shrugged. “What do you think?”

Eddie lit the cigarette and brought it to his lips, taking a long drag. “We could smoke,” he offered. “We could make out. We could go back to my place and listen to music, smoke, and make out.”

You laughed. “Alright. Your place it is.”

It took you too long to realize something was wrong.

Being on birth control, you didn’t always get your period - so that didn’t set off any alarm bells for you at first. It was when you started getting sick after breakfast, when your clothes felt like sandpaper against your boobs, when you had to pee 50 million times a night. That’s when you got scared.

“What’s wrong with you?” a wide-eyed Tina asked at school when you showed up dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, hood pulled over your disheveled hair and dark circles beneath your eyes. “You look like shit. Like actually.”

“Yeah, are you okay?” Carol asked. She put the back of her hand against your forehead.

“I’m pregnant,” you said.

The girls froze.

“…What?” Carol asked, sure she hadn’t heard what she’d just heard. Her, Tina, and Chrissy leaned in. “Say that again.”

“I don’t know for sure, but-“

“No, say what you just said again,” Tina said. “You know, the thing you said just a minute ago.”

You looked up, willing the tears brewing in your eyes not to fall. “I’m pregnant. I think.”

The girls just blinked at you.

“Did you take a test?” Chrissy finally asked.

“No,” you said. “I haven’t…I’ve been scared.”

“Well, don’t just go around telling people you’re pregnant when you don’t even know,” Tina said.

“Oh my god,” Carol said, shoving her books back into her locker. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Carol led the way out of school. No one stopped the four of you as you walked out with confidence, like you were exactly where you were supposed to be. No one ever questioned the four of you.

Carol drove you all to the pharmacy. You had a whole entourage with you as you went inside, picking up one of the results in 30 minutes! tests. Minutes later you were shut in your downstairs bathroom, grateful your dad had such a set work schedule, and taking the test while the girls bickered outside.

“If she’s pregnant, I’m the godmother-“

“No, she would pick me, we’ve been friends longer-“

“Yeah, but she likes me best, so-“

The chatter stopped when you walked out. Your friends looked at you with concern. “30 minutes,” you said, as if that wasn’t a potential death sentence.

They tried their best to keep you entertained and your mind off things as you waited the 30 minutes, but it didn’t work. The seconds ticked by like hours.

When the 30 minutes were up, each of your friends squeezed your hand, offering their silent support as you went inside to see the results. You looked down, and, sure enough- blue. Positive.

You choked out a sob. The girls rushed to your side, looking down at the results and then pulling you into a group hug.

“Oh, honey,” Carol said, stroking your hair. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“You’re not in this alone,” Chrissy said. “We promise. You have us.”

“Do you…” Tina began awkwardly, like she knew she shouldn’t ask what she was about to but couldn’t help herself. “Do you know who the dad is?”

It occurred to everyone at that exact moment. No. You didn’t.

Something broke inside and the tears began flowing freely. You covered your face as choked sobs escaped your lungs - you were scared.

The girls did their best to calm you, to assure you everything would be okay, but you didn’t believe them. This was a fucking disaster. A baby, and no idea who the father was. There were two very possible options.

And what the fuck happened to your birth control? Useless, apparently.

The girls stayed with you all day. No one cared about skipping school, even though it was the first time you’d really done it. By the time the school day was over, you had come up with somewhat of a plan.

“Can you take me to Billy’s?” you pleaded with Carol.

She raised her brows. “You want to tell him? Now?”

“Yes,” you said. “I just…he’s…you know how Billy is.” You twisted one of your rings around your finger. “He…gets upset. So I just want to get it over with. I don’t want him to find out through a rumor or something.”

“We’re not gonna tell,” Carol said. Her eyes darted over to where Tina stood across the room. “Well, I’m not gonna tell. But yeah, I’ll drive you.”

You insisted Carol drop off Tina and Chrissy before taking you to Billy’s. The nerves were in place, and you admitted you were putting it off. Once the girls were gone and Carol’s car idled in front of the Hargrove residence, you just stared at the front door. Billy’s car was here - he was home. You didn’t see any other cars.

“You sure you want to do this today?” Carol asked, her face full of concern. “You don’t have to. You can wait.”

“There’s no point,” you shrugged. “He has to find out. I might as well…get it over with.”

Carol watched as you got out of the car and walked the sidewalk to the porch. You’d only been here the one time before, but you knew you were at the right place. You raised your fist - and let it hover over the door. You stood there - god, what would you even say? Would Billy be pissed? Would he blow up? Would he do something?

Your hand came down against the door.

as always, comments & reblogs are so appreciated!!

tag list

@rincallistis @emxxblog @loserboysandlithium @kellsck @jaybbygrl @lissssaarae @jeangeniex

[insanelyadd]

IT IS TIME

ONCE MORE

YOU HAVE BEEN WITH ME FOR FIVE YEARS NOW

LET PAPYRUS SAY FUCK DAY

As per usual, please feel free to participate with anything you can make, it doesn't have to be extravagant, it can be a simple little drawing. In the past I have used this event to bring back discontinued merch which now has a reference to it contained within, and the spread of it as a meme lead to it being???? referenced???? In a Papyrus interview???? Huh.

So I thank every single one of you for making this event what it is, I never expected when I made my first post about it that people would actually all come together to make a bunch of silly art for a great character. Please join me once more, for another year where Papyrus can say fuck, and if you can't post on the day itself, then that's perfectly fine! Papyrus can swear whenever the hell he wants, he's a grown ass man.

PROMPTS:

Papyrus says fuck (stubbed his toe, dropped his oatmeal, missed the newest episode of his favorite show)

Papyrus commits Arson

Papyrus wins big at poker because this man has the perfect poker face

Ambassador Papyrus repressing the urge to strangle the politicians he's dealing with

He's a brutal kind of guy! He is preparing to be the shit out of someone

Knight Papyrus

What is Papyrus "busy" with in deltarune?

Why does Flowey restrain Papyrus with 4 vines when everyone else is only restrained with 2?

Anything that portrays him as the grown man that he is

Don't forget to use the tag #LetPapyrusSayFuck as well as #undertale (or #deltarune if you're doing one of those prompts) and then also please be mindful and tag the post for including #swearing or other sensitive topics if it includes them.

Please reblog, and share with all your Papyrus-loving friends! I look forward to another fun year cheering on The Great Papyrus with all of you. <3

EDIT (I can't believe I forgot this part) THIS JUNE 16th!

[guliexe]

—ON THE LOW 18+

Dealer!Nicholas/Wang Yixiang x Female!Reader

warnings/tags: slow burn, dealer/stoner!nicho, i call him weno in this, soft dom!nicho, shy!reader, loverboy!nicho, drug use, shotgunning, romantic, making out, dry humping, praising, fingering, oral (f. receiving), p in v, mating press, crying, unprotected sex, confessing, aftercare

♡ you started buying weed for your friends and ended up falling for the dealer—turns out, he fell even harder.

w/c: 9.7k (no proofread)

You’d seen him around long before you ever spoke to him. He wasn’t the kind of guy you could ignore. Not because he was loud, Weno was anything but loud, but because he had this presence. Calm, quiet, and detached, like nothing ever really touched him. He was always there but just out of reach. The kind of person who didn’t care if people were watching, but somehow still ended up being the one everyone looked at. You had a couple classes near the same buildings. He always showed up late, always dressed like he’d just rolled out of bed—big hoodie, baggy jeans, backpack hanging off one shoulder. Never rushed. Never looked stressed. Just there. He’d walk past where you and your friends were sitting on the grass and barely glance your way. But even that one second felt heavier than it should. You didn’t know much about him, but you noticed him. You always had. Weno wasn’t exactly a mystery, everyone on campus knew what he did, they just didn’t talk about it. Not out loud, anyway. The stories passed around in whispers. That he sells, and it’s good shit too. That he never chased customers, people came to him. That if he liked you, he might give you more than you paid for. That if he really liked you, you’d know.

You didn’t know if any of that was true. But what you did know was that your friends wanted weed and were too scared to go get it themselves. So they asked you. Apparently, being the quiet one made you the designated “safe” option. It wasn’t like you and Weno were strangers, anyway. You’d talked a few times now. Nothing long, quick chats during pickups, the occasional hi at a party when you passed by each other. He’d never made you feel weird or unsafe. Just… flustered. A little warm in the chest, a little unsure what to say next. He had a way of watching you that felt deliberate, even when he said nothing at all. Your friend had shoved some cash into your hand at the last minute, babbling about how “he’s chill, he’s not scary, just please go for me, I can’t” — and you’d sighed, texting him before you could overthink it. He told you to meet him behind the dorms. 6:30. You almost didn’t go. You weren’t sure why he made you nervous, he hadn’t done anything to deserve that label. But something about him felt sharp beneath all the calm. Like he could see through you if he wanted to. When you rounded the corner that evening, he was already leaning against the side of his car, phone in hand, headphones around his neck. The sun was low, painting the edges of his face gold. You caught yourself staring before you could stop. He looked up as you approached. “Didn’t expect you,” he said, not moving. You blinked, “Why?” He shrugged, “Thought one of your loud friends would be the one to show. You’re not really the type to do this.” It wasn’t teasing exactly, but the way he said it made your face warm. You cleared your throat. “They made me come.” “Mm,” he hummed. “Figured.”

He pushed off the car, pulling a ziplock from his hoodie pocket. You reached for it automatically, but he didn’t hand it over right away. “You ever tried it?” You shook your head. “No. It’s not really… my thing.” He tilted his head slightly. Not judging, just observing. “Didn’t think it was.” he chuckled softly, then he handed it to you, fingers brushing yours for half a second too long. You looked down at your hand, not at the bag, but at where your skin still tingled. “You’re good,” he said quietly, “Let me know next time.” You nodded, muttered a soft thanks, already starting to turn away, but then he said your name. You froze and glanced back. He was still standing by his car, one hand in his pocket, the other lazily spinning his keys around his finger. The way he looked at you made your stomach flip, like he wasn’t just looking at you, but through you. “You always do stuff for your friends?” His tone was casual, but the question caught you off guard. “What do you mean?” He shrugged a little. “They want something, and you’re the one who shows up.” A pause. “That happen a lot?”You weren’t sure how to answer. It did happen a lot. They asked, you went. Not because you wanted to, but because it felt easier than saying no. You glanced down at the ziplock in your hand. “I guess,” you mumbled. “I don’t know.” He hummed low, like that told him everything he needed to know. You looked back up, ready to say something else—anything, maybe even defend yourself, but he beat you to it. “You’re a good girl.” The words were soft and genuine, but they landed heavy. Your breath caught. His gaze didn’t waver—steady, calm, like he hadn’t just said something that made your skin go warm all over. You didn’t know what to do with that. You didn’t even know what it meant coming from him. You just knew it made something flutter in your stomach. “Thanks,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. You turned and walked off a little too quickly, heart pounding, ears hot, his voice still echoing behind your ribs. You’re a good girl. You didn’t stop thinking about it for the rest of the night. It wasn’t long before your friends asked again. Same excuse, same tone, a whiny “please, he already knows you” and cash pushed into your hand like you owed them something. You hesitated more this time. Not because of them, but because of him. You hadn’t stopped thinking about last time. It replayed in your head again and again. You stared at his contact in your phone for some minutes before typing out the message.

You

hey my friends wanna grab again

He replied two minutes later.

Weno

same place 7:30

When you showed up this time, he was inside his car, driver’s door open, music playing low through the speakers. He looked up as you approached and smiled, lazy and half-lidded. “Hey,” he said, voice low. “Hey.”You tried not to sound nervous. You weren’t even sure why you were nervous. This wasn’t new. You’d done this before. But this time, it felt different. You felt different. He stepped out, shutting the car door behind him as he pulled the same ziplock from the pocket of his jeans. You took it wordlessly, but his fingers brushed yours again, on purpose this time. You could feel it in the way he didn’t rush, didn’t pull away immediately. “Still not trying it?” he asked, tilting his head. You shook your head. “Not yet.” He raised a brow. “Why not?” “I just… haven’t.” You tucked the bag quickly into your jacket pocket like it might deflect the attention. “You scared?” The way he asked it wasn’t mocking, just curious, like he wanted to understand you, not challenge you. You hesitated. “No,” you said finally. “Just don’t wanna.” He nodded slowly, watching you again with that unreadable expression. “Still doing things for your friends, though.” You pressed your lips together. “I guess.” “They ever do stuff for you?” You blinked. “What?” He shrugged. “Just wondering.” You didn’t answer. Mostly because you didn’t have one. He could probably tell, because he didn’t push. He just looked at you for a long second, eyes dropping to your mouth before flicking back up to meet your gaze as he rolled a blunt for him. “You should stop letting people use you.” The bluntness of it caught you off guard. You shifted on your feet, unsure whether to say thank you or tell him it wasn’t like that, even though maybe it was. “You don’t even like them that much, do you?” Your breath hitched. “They’re my friends.” “Mm,” he hummed. “If you say so.”

After that, it happened a few more times. The same routine: a text, a time, a quiet walk behind the dorms where he’d be waiting. Sometimes he was standing. Sometimes in the driver’s seat with the door open. Sometimes already smoking, low music humming from the speakers. And each time, it got a little easier to look him in the eye. But also harder not to look too long. Weno never talked much. He didn’t fill silence just to hear himself speak. He asked things, small things, personal in ways that didn’t feel invasive, just seen. He was trying to piece you together quietly, without making a show of it. You’d come with your friends’ money in your pocket and leave with more than you paid for. Not every time, but enough that you noticed. When you offered to give him more, he just shook his head, said “You’re good,” and he meant it, it wasn’t just about the cash anymore. You didn’t tell your friends about how often you started going. Sometimes it wasn’t even about picking up anymore. You’d hand over the cash, but he’d wave it off. “Not this time.” You started to wonder if he even gave you real amounts. If this was still a deal or just an excuse. What you did know was that somewhere along the way, something started to shift.

It was in the way your pulse picked up when his name lit up your screen. In how you started getting ready earlier than you needed to. In how you made sure your outfit and make up was cute before leaving, like that would help keep your face from giving you away when he looked at you like he always did. It was on the low. No one really knew how often you were seeing him now—certainly not your friends. To them, it was still just you doing the awkward task they were too scared for. They didn’t know that half the time you went to Weno now, it wasn’t even because of them. Sometimes they didn’t ask at all—you just found yourself texting him anyway. And he always said yes. You weren’t sure when it stopped being about weed. You weren’t sure it ever really was. Sometimes you’d sit with him for a while. In the passenger seat of his car, parked in the same quiet lot behind the dorms. He’d roll one and lean back with the window cracked, slow smoke curling out into the night while music filled the silence. He never pushed anything on you. Never asked why you stayed. But you stayed. You weren’t good at talking about yourself, and he didn’t make you. He just gave you space to exist, and maybe that was what started doing it. Maybe that’s why you kept feeling warmer every time you saw him. More sure that he saw you. And you started to open up to him. You two would hang out and talk about anything and anyone very frequently.

You were curled up in the passenger seat, legs tucked under you, jacket zipped halfway. The night was cool, and the air smelled like weed and cologne, smoke curling from the blunt between his fingers. His playlist low in the background that made it feel like time moved slower in his car. You hadn’t said much in the last ten minutes. Just sat there, letting the silence hang. But it wasn’t awkward. Weno never made things awkward. You gave him a small smile, eyes drifting out the window. The streetlights cast a warm glow across the dashboard. He tapped the ash into the tray and leaned back, one arm stretched across the back of your seat like he didn’t even think about it. “I don’t get it,” you said quietly after a moment. “You do this with all your clients?” “Do what?” he asked, eyes narrowing slightly, playful but unreadable. “This.” You motioned vaguely between you. “Sit in the car, talk like this, not charge them.” He chuckled once, deep and soft in his chest. “No.” You blinked. “No?” He turned his head, looked right at you, and shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal. “They’re not you.” Your stomach fluttered. You tried to play it off, but your smile gave you away. He tilted his head slightly, watching you through the soft haze in the car. “You know you’re my favorite, right?” Your head snapped toward him. “What?” He smirked, exhaled a slow breath, eyes never leaving yours. “Client,” he added after a beat, but the pause was on purpose. His smirk deepened like he knew what he was doing to you. Your face went warm immediately. “Shut up,” you muttered, covering your smile with your hand. “I’m serious.” His tone was calm. “You don’t talk much, you don’t ask dumb questions, you never waste my time.” “Oh,” you said quietly. But your smile stayed. “So I’m convenient.” He leaned a little closer, voice dropping low. “Nah. You’re cute.” Your heart jumped. You didn’t know where to look. You didn’t know what to say. So you laughed—awkward and soft, trying to bury your face in your hands like that might cool your cheeks. You left a little later than usual that night.

Three days later, when your screen lit up with a text from him, you answered in less than a minute.

Weno

u free tonight?

wanna chill for a bit?

♡

You

yeah :)

same spot?

♡

Weno

pull up at 10

no rush

You tried not to read into it too much. But you still picked out a different hoodie this time, your favorite one, did a little extra on your make up, styled your hair in way you knew framed your face best. It wasn’t a date. It wasn’t anything. But your hands still felt warm as you walked out to meet him. His car was already there when you arrived. You climbed into the passenger seat, familiar now with the way the door stuck a little when you pulled it. Same playlist was on, and the heat was turned up just enough to make the inside feel cozy. He glanced over as you settled in, eyes flicking down to your mouth before meeting your gaze again. “Hey,” he said, voice smooth, quiet. “Hey,” you murmured back, smiling a little.

The next hour passed easily, like it always did when you were with him. You talked about nothing and everything, classes, music, random campus drama you weren’t even involved in, movies you both halfway remembered, the last weird dream you had. He laughed more than usual tonight, low and slow, eyes squinting a little when something you said caught him off guard. His hand rested on the steering wheel as he listened, thumb tapping the leather in a lazy rhythm. He made you feel comfortable, like whatever you had to say mattered even if it didn’t. Like he was listening just because it was you talking. At some point, he lit up. You were mid-sentence when he leaned forward to spark the lighter, the soft flick of it barely cutting into the music. He offered it to you once out of habit, holding the blunt out between two fingers, and this time you didn’t shake your head immediately. You hesitated. Then, before you could overthink it, you took it. Your fingers brushed his. His expression didn’t change, but something in his gaze lingered longer than before. “You sure?” he asked, voice soft, a little more serious now. You slowly nodded. “Yeah. Just—don’t laugh at me if I cough.” He smiled, “I won’t.” He leaned back into his seat. “Promise.” You inhaled, a small hit, like you’d seen him do a hundred times now. It burned, made your throat tickle, your eyes water just a little, but you didn’t cough. He watched carefully, still smiling. “Good girl,” he murmured.

Your chest tightened at the words, heat blooming under your skin before you could stop it. You handed it back to him quickly, trying to focus on the burn in your lungs, the soft thrum of bass in the background, anything except how warm you suddenly felt. Time got slower after that. An hour passed in a haze, soft laughter, lazy conversation, both of you sinking deeper into your seats, the windows fogging slightly. He smoked again, and passed it back and forth to you. Your body felt lighter. Music melted into the background, his voice a little rough now. You both stared out at the empty parking lot for a while, just existing. It was quiet in the way that felt close, not awkward. Every time your knee brushed his, he didn’t move. Every time you shifted, his eyes flicked toward your mouth, then back to the road like he didn’t want to get caught looking. And maybe it was the high, or the way the space between you had been shrinking since the start, but something changed. You turned to say something and caught him already looking at you, staring. His arm was still draped behind your seat, but now his fingers were brushing your shoulder, light and casual. You blinked at him. “What?” you whispered, voice lower than before. He didn’t answer right away. Just looked at you for a long second, eyes warm, thoughtful. “C’mere.” You didn’t even think. You just leaned forward, heart thudding quietly behind your ribs as his hand slid slowly to the back of your neck. He tilted his head slightly. His lips brushed yours soft at first, testing. Then again, firmer. You leaned into it. Your heart stuttered, hands unsure of where to go. One found the edge of his hoodie. The other pressed lightly to his chest. His mouth moved against yours like he’d been thinking about this for a while. He wasn’t in any rush now that it was finally happening. You kissed him back slow, high and a little breathless, your skin buzzing all over. He pulled back eventually, just enough to look at you, eyes dark and steady.

“You’re high,” he said, almost teasing. “So are you,” you whispered. He smiled, gaze dropping to your lips again. “Yeah. But I still meant it.” You smiled, small and dazed, and tucked your legs under you again, curling back into your seat. The car was quiet for a few more minutes. Nothing changed. But everything had. And when you finally said you should go, he didn’t stop you. Just nodded, reached over, and opened the door for you like he always did. Before you stepped out, he caught your wrist gently. You turned back. His eyes searched yours for a moment. “Text me when you get in.” You nodded, “Okay.”

You

made it home :)

♡

Weno

good

was starting to think u got lost

♡

You

nope

just still thinking

♡

Weno

about?

♡

You

you

♡

Weno

yeah?

what part

♡

You

the obvious part

♡

Weno

mm

i liked that part too

didn’t rlly want u to go

♡

You

u didn’t?

♡

Weno

nah

wanted to kiss u again

♡

You

i wanted to too

but i got nervous :(

♡

Weno

it’s ok bby

will i see u again soon?

♡

You

yeah

if u want to

♡

Weno

i do

♡

You

can’t wait

goodnight weno :)

♡

Weno

me neither

gn <3

You didn’t stop thinking about that night. Or his texts. Or when he said he wanted to kiss you again. The way your heart stuttered when he called you bby like it wasn’t a big deal. Like it was already normal between you. It wasn’t, not really. But it was starting to be. You’d kept texting after that. Not every second of the day, but enough. Little check-ins, good mornings, music recs, late night questions that felt heavier than they sounded. He was never overly forward, not the type to blow up your phone or say things just to get a reaction, but everything he did say stuck with you. You were head over heels. Smiling at your phone and then burying your face in your pillow like an idiot every time. So when one of your friends mentioned the party coming up—some frat guy’s birthday, everyone was going, “you have to come, it’s gonna be huge”—you didn’t think much of it at first. Until she added, casually, “Pretty sure Weno’s gonna be there too, so you can’t get us some stuff as well?” That made your heart skip. You played it off, said “yeah, cool” and shrugged, but your brain had already started spiraling. What if you saw him? What if you didn’t? What if he ignored you in front of everyone? What if he didn’t? You told yourself you weren’t going for him. But you still stood in front of your closet longer than usual. You picked a dress—short, tight, something you hadn’t worn before. Simple, but it hugged you in all the right places. You did your makeup with more care than usual, spritzed perfume on your neck, your wrists, let your hair fall soft and full around your shoulders. You didn’t tell anyone why you looked a little extra tonight. But you kind of hoped he’d be there. And you really hoped he’d notice.

The house was already packed by the time you got there—music thumping through the walls, bodies crammed together in every corner, red cups in almost every hand. Lights low, flashing sometimes, music echoing through a speaker in the living room. It smelled like sweat, beer, weed, and cheap cologne. Typical. Your friends disappeared as soon as you walked in, squealing at someone they recognized near the kitchen. You stayed back for a second, just long enough to scan the crowd. Not because you were looking for anyone. Not on purpose, anyway. And then you saw Weno. Leaning against the far wall near the stairs, hoodie half-zipped over a white tank, cargo pants hanging low on his hips, the hem of his boxers peeking a little. He wasn’t dancing. Wasn’t talking loud or laughing or drinking like the rest of them. Just standing there, calm and unreadable, eyes lazily moving through the room like he’d been here a hundred times before. He was talking to someone, dapping them up quick, pulling something from his pocket and handing it off like it was nothing. No one looked twice. Just a quiet exchange, over in seconds. He didn’t try to be subtle, he didn’t have to. People came to him. You stayed near the edge of the crowd, drink in hand, pretending to be more focused on your friends than you were. But your eyes kept drifting back. He looked good. Effortlessly good. And he hadn’t seen you yet. You tried not to look over too often. Tried to focus on your friends and their chaotic conversations, the loud music, the colorful lights. You laughed at jokes that didn’t really register. Nodded along. Sipped water from your cup and told yourself it wasn’t that serious. He wasn’t even talking to you. He was doing his own thing. Still, your gaze kept drifting. Just to see if he was still there. Still. Every time you checked, he was. Some minutes passed like that—just you pretending to be more chill than you felt while your friends chattered and moved toward the crowd. You stayed behind, needing a second to breathe. You slipped into the kitchen, mostly empty now, except for the quiet hum of the fridge and the faint bass vibrating through the floor. You reached for the fridge handle, intent on just grabbing some cold water and hiding out for a bit, but when you turned, he was already there. Standing just inside the doorway. Watching. Your breath caught.

He didn’t say anything at first. His eyes scanned you slowly—top to bottom, unhurried. You felt it like a heatwave, settling low in your stomach. His gaze was darker than usual. Focused, sharp. You dropped your eyes immediately, trying not to fidget. Tugged lightly on the hem of your dress like it might help somehow, like maybe it covered more than it did. You felt your cheeks flush without him even having to speak. You weren’t even sure why you were so nervous. You’d seen him like this before, but something about tonight made it worse. Made you bite your lip without thinking. Made your cheeks burn just from the way he looked at you. “Didn’t know you’d be here,” he said, voice calm and even. A little rough from the smoke, but still warm. You glanced up, heart racing. “Yeah,” you said, “Wasn’t really planning to, but… my friends dragged me.” He smiled a little. “I’m glad you came.” Your breath hitched. You weren’t expecting that. “You look good tonight.” It landed heavy in your chest. No teasing. No smirk. Just him saying it like it was a fact. Your whole body flushed. “Oh,” you said, voice small. “Um. Thanks.” He nodded once, eyes still on you, and then glanced back toward the hallway. “I’m heading up to the balcony for a bit. If you wanna get some air.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Just gave you one last look—soft, lingering—and pushed off the doorframe to leave. “Come find me,” he said, and then he was gone. Leaving you standing in the kitchen, heart racing, lip caught between your teeth, wondering how the hell he always made you feel like this without even trying.

You lingered in the kitchen for a while after he left, pretending to scroll through your phone, half-listening to the party still pulsing through the walls. Your friends had fully disappeared into the crowd by now, probably dancing or taking shots or screaming over music. You told yourself you were just cooling off. Just getting a break from the noise. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he’d looked at you. The way he said it—You look good tonight. Like it wasn’t up for debate. Like he meant it, and he knew you’d heard him loud and clear. Eventually, you texted some excuse about needing air, said you’d be right back if anyone even cared that you left. You slipped out of the kitchen and made your way upstairs, heartbeat loud in your ears, feeling a little ridiculous and a lot nervous. The hallway was quiet, just some closed doors and the muffled hum of bass below. You found the door to the balcony slightly cracked open, soft breeze pushing in from the night. You pushed it open gently. There he was. He sat on a low, beat-up couch tucked against the wall. One leg stretched out, the other bent, arm thrown over the backrest like he owned the space. Head tilted back just slightly, hoodie slipping off his shoulder, lips parted around the blunt as he took a slow drag. The ember glowed red in the dark, lighting up the sharp cut of his jaw, the curve of his mouth. He looked unfairly good. Like the air belonged to him. Like nothing touched him. He turned his head lazily when he heard the door, eyes finding yours through the smoke. Didn’t smile. Didn’t say anything for a second. Just looked at you, then took another slow hit, exhaling with a quiet sigh before speaking.

“Knew you’d come.” You swallowed hard, heart kicking up again like you hadn’t already spent the last fifteen minutes trying to calm it down. His voice was low, almost lazy, but there was something behind it—something that made your chest tighten a little. You stepped out and quietly shut the door behind you. You sat down beside him, slow and careful, the cushion dipping under your weight. His knee brushed yours just slightly, warm through the fabric. You glanced over, then down again, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I just—I’d rather be up here with you than down there in all that chaos.” That got him to finally look at you. Head tilted slightly, eyes narrowed just a little like he was trying to read deeper than what you were saying out loud. He didn’t answer right away. Just flicked the ash from the blunt, leaned back again, eyes still on you. You breathed in through your nose, steadying yourself. Then softer, barely louder than the wind, you added, “I missed you.” He turned his head fully now, letting the blunt rest between his fingers. The pause that followed wasn’t awkward. It was heavy. Warm. His eyes softened just a bit. “Yeah?” he said, voice a little quieter than before. “I missed you too.” It landed in your chest like a weight—like the kind of thing you weren’t sure you were allowed to want, but did anyway. He leaned in a little, not close enough to crowd you, but just enough for his knee to press softly into yours. His eyes didn’t leave your face.

“You been thinking about me?” he asked, voice still calm, but something about it made your stomach twist. You blinked. Heat rushed to your cheeks again, and you had to look away. “…Maybe.” He smiled at that, small and crooked and unfairly attractive. “Same.” And then he took another hit like he hadn’t just wrecked you with a single word. He let the silence hang for a few seconds after that, the blunt burning slow between his fingers, and then he said it quietly, like it wasn’t a big deal. “Come closer.” Your eyes flicked to his, heart stuttering a little. He didn’t look away, didn’t shift or make room, just waited. You hesitated for a second and then moved, scooting over until your leg was pressed fully against his. He reached out casually, like it was second nature, and slid his arm around your shoulders. A soft tug, and suddenly you were leaning into him, your head falling against his chest like it belonged there. You could feel everything. His warmth, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the steady thump of his heart under your cheek. His hoodie smelled like smoke and laundry and him. He brought the blunt to his lips again, took a hit, then lowered it and turned his head slightly toward you.“Want some?” he murmured. You shook your head, just once. “Not right now.” He hummed, didn’t push. Just let his hand stay where it was on your shoulder, thumb brushing idly against your arm. You didn’t say anything after that. Neither did he. You both just sat there, pressed together on the old balcony couch, the party a muffled storm below you, the stars wide and scattered above. You listened to the wind. The soft scratch of fabric when he shifted. The occasional drag and exhale as he smoked. You closed your eyes for a second and just let yourself feel all of it.

He shifted a little, moving his hand lower on your arm, caressing the skin, his breath warm against your hair. You felt his heartbeat quicken just a bit beneath your cheek. The silence between you was thick. to be noticed. You glanced up at him, your eyes catching his in the dim light. There was something softer there now. Something unspoken, but heavy. Without breaking eye contact, his hand moved to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, fingers lingering near your temple. Your breath hitched. He leaned down just a little, voice low and casual, “You’re beautiful.” You swallowed, barely able to meet his gaze as your face flushed again. Then, just like that, he closed the tiny gap between you. His lips found yours slow and gentle, before deepening the kiss, like he’d been wanting to do this all night. You melted into him, your hand slowly reaching up to rest on his chest as the world around you faded. It’s not gentle anymore, it’s urgent, needy. His hand tightens in your hair, pulling you closer as his tongue slides against yours, deep and demanding. You whimper softly, the sound lost in the press of his mouth, your body melting into his. He pulls back just enough to whisper in your ear, voice husky, “Wanna get out of here? I’ve got my car nearby.” Your heart pounds so hard you’re sure he can hear it. You just nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, breath catching again as he wraps his arm tighter around you.

He doesn’t rush you, just laces his fingers through yours, warm and firm, and gives your hand a gentle tug. You follow without thinking, legs shaky as you leave the balcony behind and slip back into the quiet hallway. The party feels distant now, like the world narrowed down to just him, the weight of his hand in yours, the aftertaste of his kiss still lingering on your lips. The walk to his car is quiet, but not awkward. When he unlocks the door and slides into the driver’s seat, you hesitate for half a second before slipping in beside him. The doors shut with a soft thud, sealing you both inside the low, warm hum of the vehicle. He leans back, legs stretched out, calm like always, but there’s a heat behind his eyes when he looks at you. A spark still flickering from earlier. “I’m gonna roll real quick,” he murmurs, pulling out his tray and grinder from the center console like it’s second nature. You nod, watching him work—his fingers nimble, methodical, the lighter’s flame briefly illuminating his face when he brings the blunt to his lips. The car fills with the earthy scent of smoke, and his head tilts back slightly as he exhales, half-lidded. He looks so fucking fine like this, bathed in shadows and smoke, hoodie loose around his collarbones, the faint red glow of the blunt lighting up his lips. Then he turns his head toward you again and you don’t even get the chance to fully catch your breath before he leans in again, free hand finding your cheek as he kisses you.

The smoke still lingers on his breath, and you melt into it, moaning softly into his mouth as his tongue slides against yours. His fingers are on your thigh, squeezing gently as he pulls you closer. The kiss turns messier, full of need, soft gasps and low groans echoing through the car. Your hand grips his hoodie low, holding on like you might fall apart if you let go. He pulls back only enough to whisper, breath ghosting over your lips, “Could do this all night.” Then his mouth is on yours again. More heat, more tongue, more breathless little noises spilling from your lips as your body starts to tremble in his hands. Without breaking the kiss, his hands move, one sliding up your thigh, the other settling on your waist. “C’mere,” he murmurs against your mouth, voice low but soft. You barely register what he means until his hands are guiding you, pulling you gently, firmly, right onto his lap. One leg at a time, knees sinking into the seat on either side of him, hands braced on his shoulders, your dress hiking up as you settle onto him, straddling him, face to face. He leans back just enough to look at you, eyes hooded, red from the weed, blunt still between his fingers. One of his hands slides up your side, fingers grazing your waist and ribs over the thin fabric of your dress. He takes his time with it, like he’s learning your shape. Your breath stutters as his hand travels higher, stopping just under your arm. He brings the blunt to his lips again, takes a long, slow hit, his chest rising beneath you, and then leans in close. His free hand curves around the back of your neck, guiding your face closer to his. You part your lips on instinct, and he exhales the smoke right into your mouth, warm and slow, curling over your tongue. Your eyes flutter shut as you breathe it in, heart thudding, and then he kisses you. Kisses you like he’s taking the air right back from your lungs.

Your breath catches when you feel his hands slide down, beneath the hem of your dress. He pushes it up slowly, bunching the fabric around your waist until the cool air hits your thighs. You shift slightly, nervous, thighs tightening around his hips as he exposes more of you. He doesn’t say anything, just stares for a second, eyes flicking down to where your panties are now visible, his palms firm on the back of your thighs. “Fuck,” he mutters, almost to himself. Then he leans forward, mouth finding your neck, and everything gets messier after that. He kisses down the side of your throat, open, warm, wet, his lips dragging along the skin, tongue flicking against your pulse point, teeth grazing just enough to make your hips twitch against him. You whimper quietly, trying to stay still, but he’s already pulling you closer with both hands, guiding your body into his like he knows exactly what you need. You tilt your head for him without thinking, shy sounds escaping your mouth as he works his way up to your jaw, then down again, kissing a little rougher now. “Weno…” you whisper, voice breaking around his name. “Shh,” he murmurs, his voice low against your skin. “You’re okay.” Your arms wrap around his shoulders instinctively, face burning as you shift in his lap, unintentionally grinding down just slightly. His reaction is immediate, a quiet groan right into your neck, his hands tightening on your hips. “Just like that,” he breathes.

Your hips grind down harder without thinking, breath coming out in shaky gasps as the friction starts to feel almost too good. His hands slip under the back of your dress, squeezing the soft flesh of your ass, guiding your movement like he needs it just as bad. You’re whimpering into the heated space between you, clinging to his hoodie, your body trembling slightly with every slow drag of your hips over his. Your panties are soaked. His pants are straining. The windows are fogging up, and the whole car smells like weed, sweat, and heat. He tilts his head, catching your mouth again in another deep, tongue-heavy kiss, like he can’t stop tasting you. His hand slides up your waist, grazing under the curve of your chest over the thin fabric of your dress, and you shudder, moaning softly into his mouth. Then he pulls back, just a little, resting his forehead against yours as both of you try to breathe. “Fuck,” he whispers, chest rising and falling beneath you. “You look so fucking pretty like this.” You blink at him, dazed, lips swollen and barely parted, still trying to catch your breath. He looks at you for a long second, hands still on your waist, grounding you. “I don’t wanna do this in the car,” he says, voice rough. “You deserve better than that.” Your breath hitches, heat flaring even higher at how serious he sounds. “Wanna go to my place?” he murmurs, brushing his thumb along your side. You nod slowly, shy but needy, your fingers curling in the collar of his shirt, a little scared to let go. “Yeah,” you whisper, barely audible. “Okay.” He kisses you once more, soft and sweet, before pulling back just enough to reach for the keys.

The door shut with a quiet click, sealing you into the warmth of his place. It was dark, mostly, just the glow of a streetlamp slipping through the blinds, casting faint lines across the floor. Neither of you spoke. You turned slightly, lips parting like you might say something, but he was already reaching for you. His hands found your waist in the dark, pulling you in with no hesitation, and his mouth was on yours before you could even breathe. Kissing you hungrily, deep and needy. Everything he hadn’t said tonight was pouring out of him all at once, into the way he held you, the way his lips moved over yours. His grip was firm, hands splayed over your hips, your back arching into him as you kissed him back just as desperately. He walked you backwards without breaking the kiss, slow, steady steps through the short hallway, lips never leaving yours. You barely registered the corners of the space or how you ended up where you did until the back of your knees hit something soft. And then he was lowering you onto the bed. The mattress dipped beneath you, and your breath caught as he hovered above you, eyes dark and steady on yours. Then, without a word, he zipped down his hoodie and took it off. Now just in a white tank, it clung to his frame in all the right places, the cut of his collarbone visible, shoulders broad and sharp under the light. He looked down at you for a second longer, breathing hard, gaze lingering on your face like he couldn’t believe you were really there. Then he leaned down, kissing you again, less rushed, but just as intense. His hands slid up your sides, fingertips ghosting over the fabric of your dress, moving deliberately, memorizing the shape of you. You whimpered softly into his mouth, fingers curling in the hem of his shirt. He pulled back for a second, eyes flicking between yours, voice low and wrecked. “You good?” he asked, forehead brushing yours. You nodded, cheeks burning, lips swollen already. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I’m good.”

He didn’t wait long after your answer. His mouth moved to your neck, warm and open, lips brushing your skin before he started kissing, slow, deliberate, dragging his tongue gently along the curve of your throat. You gasped, breath hitching as he sucked softly at a spot just below your jaw. Then again, a little lower. Your hips twitched beneath him when you felt his teeth graze you. “Weno—” you whispered, but it came out as more of a breath than a word. “You’re so pretty” he murmured, voice barely there, like he was talking to himself. “Always are.” His hand moved down slowly, slipping over your waist and along the outside of your thigh before sliding back up under the hem of your dress. His touch was patient, teasing, he didn’t rush. Just let his fingertips brush along the top of your thigh, higher and higher until they were tracing the edge of your panties. He pushed the fabric of your underwear to the side, slowly, and let his fingers slide between your folds, touching your bare heat. You gasped, head tilting back into the pillow, lips parting in a silent moan. “Shit,” he whispered, breath warm against your collarbone. “So soaked f’me, baby.” Your cheeks burned, thighs tensing slightly around his hand. He kissed the hollow of your throat, then lower, just above your chest, tongue wet and warm as his fingers began to move—slow circles at first, barely-there pressure that made you squirm beneath him. His free hand gripped your waist, holding you steady like he could feel how close you already were, how much you wanted him. “You’re so sensitive,” he muttered, voice deep and low, teeth grazing your skin as he kissed up to your ear.

You whimpered his name, hips grinding into his hand without meaning to. His fingers never stopped moving, dragging slick circles against your clit as he kept his mouth on your neck. Every kiss felt more urgent, but not rushed. It wasn’t just lust. It was something else. Something heavier. And then he leaned up, lips brushing the shell of your ear, his voice barely above a whisper. “I think about you all the time,” he murmured, breath warm, fingers still teasing between your thighs. “Even when I’m not supposed to. Even when I try not to.” Your heart flipped, aching at how raw it sounded coming from him. “I don’t even think you know what you do to me,” he continued, a soft kiss behind your ear. “How long I’ve wanted you like this. Letting me touch you.” The words hit harder than anything else had—deeper than the kisses, deeper than his touch. Your chest tightened, eyes fluttering shut as your fingers slid into his hair, pulling him down until your lips met again. Your moans melted into his mouth, the rhythm of his fingers picking up as your hips rolled up into his hand. His other hand gripped your thigh, spreading you wider for him.

And then, without warning, he shifted his hand lower, deeper. Your lips parted in a quiet gasp as he slid one finger inside you, slow and careful. Your walls clenched around the intrusion, already aching from how worked up you were, how long he’d been teasing. He didn’t wait long before easing in a second finger, stretching you just a little more. His movements were smooth, curling them up inside you just right, drawing out whiny, breathless little sounds from your throat you couldn’t hold back. You buried your face in his shoulder, hands gripping his bicep, your hips rocking involuntarily into every slow thrust of his fingers. He moved deep and steady, his palm pressing into you, thumb dragging lazy circles over your clit in rhythm. He kept moving inside you, slow and deep, curling just right. You were so close, the tension winding tighter and tighter in your stomach, breath catching with every stroke. But just as your legs began to shake, just as your hips bucked up into his hand with a quiet, desperate moan—he pulled out. You whined at the loss, hips stuttering forward instinctively, chasing the friction. “Weno…” “I know,” he murmured, breathless himself, voice thick with need. “I know, baby.” He leaned back just enough to pull his shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere to the side. The soft light coming through the cracked door hit his chest just right—shoulders broad, abs toned, skin flushed and warm. His chain shifted against his skin when he moved.

Then he was reaching for you again, hands gentle. “Can I?” he asked, fingers brushing the hem of your dress. You nodded, cheeks hot, eyes wide and dazed. “Y-Yeah” He pulled it up slowly, lifting it over your head. His eyes dropped to your body as it was revealed to him—bare chest, soft skin, rising and falling with every shaky breath. He leaned his mouth to your nipple, giving it a soft suck while sliding your panties down your legs, dragging his hands along your thighs as he did. Then he moved lower. He settled between your legs like he belonged there, hands spreading your thighs gently, thumbs brushing along the inside. You whimpered, body already arching at the sight of him down there, the feel of his breath ghosting over your skin. “So fuckin’ perfect,” he muttered, more to himself than anything, eyes locked on your soaked center. And then he leaned in. His tongue was warm, slow, one long, deliberate lick up your folds that made your back arch off the bed. Then again, this time with more pressure, more intent. His mouth locked over your clit, sucking softly before he flattened his tongue and circled it. You gasped, hands flying to his hair, fingers tangling as your thighs tried to close around his head. He just groaned into you, gripping your hips and pulling you closer, keeping you wide open for him. The sounds—wet, messy, sinful—filled the room along with your breathy moans, soft whimpers, the quiet creak of the mattress beneath you.

He didn’t stop. His tongue moved with purpose, lapping, circling, flicking. You couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t do anything but moan, soft and desperate, your hips twitching with every stroke of his tongue. And then you felt his hand again. Sliding up the inside of your thigh, fingers trailing through your slick folds before one dipped inside you, curling instantly. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry. He added a second immediately, stretching you and pumping into you while his mouth never left your clit. “Weno—fuck,” you whimpered, body jolting as he curled his fingers just right. Your walls clenched around him, needy and tight. His groan vibrated through you when he felt it. His tongue pressed harder, fingers pumping deep and slow—each drag of his knuckles making your toes curl. Your moans got higher, breathier, as your body trembled under his touch. “You close, baby?” he muttered against your clit, fingers never slowing. “Wanna feel you cum on my fuckin’ fingers.” You nodded, frantic, too far gone to speak. Your back arched, thighs shaking as he held you open, ruined you with his mouth, pushed his fingers deep inside you until the heat building in your stomach finally snapped. You came hard, legs trembling, hips stuttering, a loud moan spilling from your lips as everything clenched and pulsed around him. Fingers still working you gently through it while his tongue slowed, easing the intensity but never leaving you empty. Weno pressed one last kiss to your thigh, lips lingering as he pulled his fingers from you slowly, savoring the way your body jolted at the loss. He sat back on his heels, chest rising and falling a little faster now, eyes heavy as they dragged up your body.

You watched, dazed, flushed, and breathless as he reached for the waistband of his cargos, unbuttoning and sliding them down. They hit the floor with a quiet thud, leaving him in just his boxers—black, stretched tight over the obvious bulge straining against the fabric. He palmed it slowly, eyes still fixed on you, thumb pressing down over the thick outline like it ached. You squirmed beneath him, breath catching again when he leaned forward, caging you in with his arms. He kissed you slow and deep, tongue sliding over yours, moaning into your mouth. Then he reached between you and pushed his boxers down just enough to free himself, hissing softly when his length sprang free and brushed against your thigh. “You still good?” he whispered, pressing his forehead to yours, his thumb caressing your cheek. You nodded, voice caught in your throat. “Yeah… I want you.” That was all he needed. He reached down, guiding himself to your entrance, dragging the tip through your slick folds, teasing you both with the heat of it. His hand found your waist again, grounding you as he pushed in slowly—inch by inch, thick and hot and stretching you just right. You gasped, nails digging into his biceps, body arching as he filled you completely.“Fuck,” he breathed out against your mouth, kissing you again as he bottomed out. “So tight. So good.” He didn’t move right away. Just stayed there, buried deep, letting you adjust while he pressed soft kisses to your jaw, your cheek, your lips. His hands smoothed over your sides, grounding you. And then he started to move.

He started slow and deep, rolling thrusts that dragged every inch of him along your walls. Your body clung to him, welcoming each stroke like it had been waiting, aching, for this exact moment. His hands moved down your sides, palms warm and firm, before sliding under your thighs to hitch your legs higher around his waist. The new angle made you gasp, your head falling back into the pillow as he sank even deeper. “That’s it,” he whispered, voice all breath and gravel, “So fucking perfect like this.” You whimpered, lips parting with every slow rock of his hips, every soft press of his chest to yours. One of his hands slipped under your back, pulling you closer, the other traveling to cup your breast, squeezing gently, thumb circling your nipple. “Love your body,” he murmured against your skin, lips brushing your collarbone. “Every inch. All mine now, yeah?” You could only nod, breath shaky, heart pounding. He moved again—long, deep thrusts that made your thighs tremble around him, that had you clinging tighter to his shoulders, trying to ground yourself in his touch. “So fuckin’ good,” he groaned, kissing your neck, “Fuck—look at how you take me.” He slid his hand down to your ass, gripping it tightly, pulling you up into each thrust, letting you feel just how hard he was holding back. You cried out softly, tears blurring your vision as the heat coiled tighter and tighter inside you. You felt stretched, full…loved. Every part of him was on you, in you, his lips, his hands, his voice. He slowed for just a second, chest heaving as he looked down at you.

His hand cradled your jaw, thumb brushing your lip as he whispered, “No one’s ever made me feel like this.” You blinked, another tear slipping free. He caught it with a kiss. He pushed in deep again, groaning low as your body clenched around him. Your eyes fluttered shut as your lips parted in a sob, overwhelmed. The pleasure, the emotion—it was too much, and not enough. You gasped out his name, voice broken, tears spilling freely now. “You’re doin’ so good,” he breathed, kissing the corner of your mouth. “So good for me. You feel so fuckin’ good—can’t get enough of you, baby.” He cupped your breast again, his other hand squeezing your ass as he rocked deeper, firmer, filling you completely with every thrust. The mattress creaked beneath you, skin slapping, breathy moans and whimpers. He lift your legs higher, folding them up toward your chest as his hands slid beneath your knees, guiding you open. His body shifted with yours, hovering close, his chest pressing to yours as he settled into the new position. You were utterly vulnerable, and so full. “Fuck,” he breathed as he pushed back in—deeper, impossibly deep, the new angle hitting something inside you that made your mouth fall open in a silent gasp. Your thighs trembled against his sides, your arms wrapping tight around his shoulders as he rocked into you again, slow and hard. His face was right above yours, eyes dark, mouth parted, breath hot on your cheek. His forehead pressed to yours. You pulled him down, fingers tangling in his hair, and kissed him hard, messy, open-mouthed, desperate. You sobbed into the kiss, the pleasure blurring everything, making your whole body feel like it was about to break apart in the best way.

He moaned against your mouth, thrusts picking up just slightly, deeper and deeper, hips pressing you into the mattress. One of his hands cradled your cheek as the other gripped under your thigh, holding you open for him while his body kept driving into yours, filling you perfectly. “You feel like heaven,” he whispered, kissing along your jaw between gasps. “So good for me, baby… fuck.” Your body clenched tight around him, your moans turning into cries as your nails dug into his back. “Weno— I’m close, I—please,” you gasped, barely able to form the words through the sobs that kept catching in your throat. “I got you,” he panted, hips grinding down, pace relentless now. “Cum for me, baby. Wanna feel you.” It only took another stroke. One more hit just right, and you shattered. Your second orgasm came, stealing the breath from your lungs. Your back arched, tears slipping down your cheeks as you sobbed his name, legs shaking violently around him. You clung to him like he was the only thing tethering you to earth. “Shit—baby—fuck—” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut as your body pulsed around him. “So good. So fucking good.” He barely lasted another few thrusts before he was pulling out quickly, stroking himself through the last moments, his body jerking forward with a final moan as he spilled across your stomach, thick and warm. He collapsed onto his forearms above you, forehead to yours again, breath ragged, lips ghosting yours.

He was still above you, body trembling slightly as he caught his breath, his lips brushing yours in soft, lingering kisses that felt more like confessions than touches. You were trying to breathe too, heart racing, chest rising and falling as your mind spun. Every nerve in your body was still alive, aching with how full he made you feel—physically, emotionally, all of it. And yet, even in the quiet after, something heavy sat in your chest. You swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting at his sides, your eyes darting everywhere but his face. You could feel it pressing against your tongue—those words—so big and so terrifying, but so real. Too real to keep inside. “Weno…?” you whispered, voice barely audible. He blinked down at you, soft and hazy from the afterglow. “Yeah, baby?” Your lip trembled as you looked up at him, wide-eyed and afraid. “I… I think I’m in love with you.” The second the words left your mouth, your stomach dropped. You felt exposed, like you’d stripped yourself bare in a whole new way. Your eyes filled with panic—what if he didn’t feel the same? What if this ruined everything? “I—I’m sorry,” you added quickly, voice cracking. “I didn’t mean to ruin it, I just—fuck, I don’t know, I just feel so much and I couldn’t keep it in and—” He cut you off with a kiss. Not a soft one, not a careful one, but deep, sure. His hand cupped your face as he leaned into you, kissing you like he needed to feel every word you’d just said on his tongue.

When he finally pulled back, his thumb brushed beneath your eye, catching the little tear that had escaped down your cheek. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he whispered. “You could never ruin anything.” Your heart fluttered painfully. “I’ve been in love with you,” he said, voice a little hoarse. “Since before I even knew what to call it. You don’t scare me, baby. You’re the only thing that’s ever made sense.” He kissed you again, tender. His hands wrapped around you, pulling you close until your body was pressed to his, skin to skin, and you could barely breathe from how tight he held you. You buried your face in his neck, arms tucked between your chests, your heart pounding against his. The silence that followed was heavy with warmth—safe, soft. Eventually, he shifted just enough to reach for the blunt on his nightstand, lighting it with a quiet flick of his lighter. The glow lit up his face in soft orange as he took a long drag, exhaling with a sigh, head tilted back slightly. You curled into him, cheek pressed to his chest, ear catching the steady thrum of his heartbeat. His arm came around you instinctively, holding you tighter, and his hand drifted lazily into your hair, fingers combing through the strands. You didn’t speak. You didn’t have to. He held you like he was never letting go.

my other works ➵ masterlist

@0403s

© guliexe 2025 all rights reserved.

[horsefigureoftheday]

#OP I am asking once again PLEASE what is the name of this amazing story?#I am on my knees begging#do you want my first born?#do you want me to go wrangle centaurs for you?#tell me and it’s yours just please give me the name

It's a branch on CYOC (Choose Your Own Change, the web's most comprehensive archive of choose-your-own-adventure transformation stories, most of which are porn). Here's a link. Don't worry about the page loading slowly, CYOC has always been like that. Just give it a minute. It's a passion project run by a handful of guys for 20+ years, this is just how it is. You get used to it.

Because CYOC functions like an archive, it has a lot of unsavory, triggering, and/or squicky content. Memorize the story tags and avoid the ones that trigger you. People are really bad at properly tagging, though, so proceed with caution.

I usually use the site by scrolling through new additions or by searching whatever I wanna jerk off to, but there is a really nice story index too, if you're unsure what you wanna read.

Anyone can add to any story with anything they feel like. I had a guy add an obviously chatGPT chapter in French to my story (don't ask me when I'll update it again, I am not in control of my urge to write) which was removed by mods within a day lol

Show us the ideal unicorn body

This art by Dark Natasha that rewired my brain when I was 12

[iceemochaa]

I'll Taste You First Then Devour You Whole Later

Remmick X Reader

Summary: You Come home late at night from a party, Unaware that a stranger is following you. Too bad he wont get a warning to what's about to happen. A creature that stalks your home and calls you "Mine" doesn't like it when people try and take what belongs to him.

A/N: It took me 4-5 Days to write this with pure determination and horniness. Thank you to my Remmick’s Freak writers room that showed me that life is truly worth living if Remmick gets to take you in the forest, added with drool and spit swapping. If you notice anything missing in the tags pls don’t be afraid to let me know! If you see grammar mistakes, no you didn't :)

Warning : MDNI, No use of name or Y/n, Reader isnt described, Blood, Slight Blood Play, slight Predator/Prey, Female Reader, Murder, slight sexual harassment (mentioned), Spit eating (with Blood), Possessive!Remmick, choking (slight), Humping if you squint, Remmick Drools as usual, Cursing, Drool Eating, Stalking (mentioned), Remmick is greedy asf (who could blame him?),

Word Count: 2.6k

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧⁺˚⋆｡ °✩₊˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

 He just killed someone. 

A man who was too busy trying to take what wasn’t his.

You were walking home from a party. Having caught wind of a new Juke joint opening, it only made sense to check it out. You and your merry band of friends who were bursting with excitement got ready that same day - picking out an outfit to wear, makeup that matched. Soon the opening hour was upon you. 

The place was nice, with lights suspended on balconies and a stage filled with instruments of all kinds. The Music was felt deep into the soul and the people who got in knew how to have a grand ole time. You danced and danced until your feet hurt, until your skin got all sweaty and your voice raspy from singing and hollering all night long. Once it got too late the crowd started to die down; People running to get home so they could wake up and catch the early morning. 

Once the music finally started to slow down and the crowd got smaller, You figured it was also time for you to go. So, you bid your friends a farewell. One of them offered to walk you home but You declined. You figured since it was too late nobody would be around, wondering and lurking in the night. Well, maybe except for one but that was an entirely different thing. 

He should have known better than to mess with women walking at night, alone. 

Especially women who have guard dogs waiting for them at home. 

You’re pinned down on the floor . Remmick touching all over you, marking his territory once more because some poor old bastard couldn’t read the “do not enter” sign properly. They got what they wanted. What they deserved. Now there’s multiple large, crankled, slash's deep into their chest, blood pooling from the wound. Their neck has been completely ripped off - the large organ of skin and muscle standing a few feet away from your face but you didn’t care. Not when Remmick was too busy making sure every inch of your body smelled like you again. Like him. 

If an unsuspecting viewer were to walk by they would have thought a rabid dog was mulling you to death. The scene was chaotic and obscene. A dismembered body a few feet away and a poor victim being ravaged by a beast. They would probably scream and shout for help, Ask if you were okay but nobody was coming for you. They never did. 

Not when He was around.  

In a situation like this you would have fought him off. Maybe Use anything to your advantage, grab a rock that was wedged by the tree, take the lonely branch on the side and use it as a weapon -  Like normal people would do to fight off a normal guy but he was not normal. Something that was entirely impossible to be and yet he was. 

“Remmick slow…slow down!” You cry out, gripping Remmicks shoulders for support when he licks a long, fat, strip up against your neck. It's late in the night, nothing but the cold breeze rattling the trees and startling a few birds. The dead stranger almost got you, almost had his way with you. He grabbed you from behind while you were a few feet away from your porch, pulled you close until your body was flushed against his and touched you. Wandering hands searched your skin and mouth pressed against the back of your neck. You screamed, trying your best to pull away from him, tossing your body from side to side but it was short lived when he shoved you towards the ground. 

“Quit it bitch! There aren't anybody up at this hour.” he chuckled, getting down on his knees to forcibly turn you over to your back. 

He wanted to get a real nice look at you, too bad you were going to be the last thing he ever saw. One of the things he ever saw. The moonlight shined against his face and you noticed that he looked familiar. You've seen him before, at the juke joint. He was drowning drink after drink but was short lived when he got kicked out for touching one of your friends. You remember cursing him out, screaming and shoving him out the door along with the bouncer who took notice. He was pissed, arguing that your friend asked for it. 

How stupid can men be? 

If only he had noticed that a creature lingered in the shadows of your porch. One that didn’t take too kindly at having their property be trespassed. 

“Remmick-”

“Can’t, busy. Need you to get rid of that stench you have.” Remmick says, getting in between your legs, in that comfortable position he always liked to be in , making sure his body was close enough. Remmick moves to press his face into you, rubbing his nose against the deep hollow of your neck. Pinning his body fully against your own. You can’t help the way your body reacts, the way he’s got his full weight  on you; Like he wants to get under your skin. No, he Needs to get under your skin. His hands are everywhere - His claws scraping lightly against your arms, legs, anywhere that showed too much skin. Areas that were infected by hands that didn't deserve to touch you. 

He still wasn't satisfied. 

“Remmick you killed someone!” you shout, Shoving his chest back to get his full attention. He didn't budge, he never does.  Too strong, ancient, powerful but he did stop to take you in - leaning back on his hunches,  Eyes searching your form. You weren't sure if he was inspecting you, eyes trailing down slowly and then snapping back to your face. He was frozen, quiet until after a few minutes, When the wind stopped blowing and the cicadas went silent. 

“Does it matter?” 

Your brows raised, confused at first. “Does it matter?...” you quickly repeat after, annoyance building on your tongue, “Yes! You can't have too many people up and go missing in this area cause you get all-”

“He was gonna hurt you…” he growls, a cold bloody hand reaching out to caress your face. His hand is bigger than before ; Longer, claws sharper , Like a predator. An elongated thumb glides against your cheek bone. His hands were rough, frigid and yet he held your face so softly. Careful, like you were fragile glass. 

“He was gonna take you…take what's mine away,” the pad of his thumb rubs along the bottom line of your lips, leaving a small bloody trail, “He was gonna die anyway.”

“...How…How would you have known that?” 

He sneers at your question, Disappointed that you would ask that but most importantly question him. He sighs loudly at that. Fine, he’ll entertain you, for a bit. He doesn't say anything for a short while but he does take note of how you watch him, eyeing the way he pokes his tongue out to lick the presence of blood away on his teeth. He finally decides to speak again. 

He whispers low so only you could hear him as if someone else was among the two of you. There was, he just wasn't alive to hear it. 

 “I could smell it on him,” he says, “Death.”

 The pad of his thumb gets replaced by a long claw, slowly dragged against your lip. He was careful once more; Careful not to prick the soft skin but his eyes were sharp, Dilated until there was nothing but red.  

It sends a shiver down your spine; How sinister he could look and yet moved in a way that was gentle. Ever so considerate of how human you are but soon after he adds in, interrupting the hypnotizing hold he has on you with a hint of amusement on his breath, “I just sped up the process.” 

Then a sudden grind of his groin against your clothed bundle of nerves sends signals to your brain. A pulse that Remmick hears all too easily. 

“Fuck- darlin’, I’m gonna make sure everyone knows you belong to me.“ he mutters under his breath. Talking more to the air, a warning to the universe. A threat.  A small squeak escapes your lips when he reaches under your skirt to bunch them up against your stomach, Warmth bubbling up in your cheeks. 

“W-What… What are you doing?” You ask with a shaky breath. 

Remmick looks at you with those too bright, intense, glowing eyes. Eyes that always manage to pick you apart and somehow put you back together again. He truly did look like a beast right now; drool hanging from his chin, hair rattled, clothes battered from the stranger trying to fight him off and those razor sharp teeth open to the midnight air. He doesn't say anything but his breathing is rapid, low, inhuman sounds deep in his chest. 

He sets his eyes on you, desiring building into his chest,  deciding that what he was going to do was going to be his life's goal. You feel a cold, wet, palm glide up against your thigh and you jolt. 

“Remmick!” you gasp, your leg shifting to the side but his strong grasp holds you down. 

“Shhh, baby, almost done…Just gotta get here too.” 

Blood is dripping from the corner of his mouth, his eyes locked unto your face. Hovering over your body,  There’s so much blood and drool dripping from his mouth that it starts to pool in between the crevices of your breast. 

“I should’ve known other fools would try and take you away,” he grunts, “Look what you did - what you made me do.” 

“Remmick please…” you whine. 

He pushes up against your body. Grinding his hips down hard, making sure you can feel him through his pants. “You liked that, didn’t you? Me, ripping a man apart cause he tried to take what’s mine?”

You look over once more at the corpse a few feet away. The look of terror still glazed over the man's eyes. The scene wasn't pleasant  to watch, to see a man be torn apart right in front of your eyes but the thought of a creature like that protecting you? Watching over you. Wanted you. How could you ever be ungrateful? Sure, it scared the hell out of you but all of that was forgotten. Head filled with nothing but Remmick and how much he wanted to devour you under the stars. 

If you admit that, tell him you liked it when he killed for you, how you liked that you were the one who made him like this. Well, let's just say you wouldn't make it out alive. So you lie…or atleast try your best. 

“N-No..” You turn your head away so you won't have to look in his eyes, have him see the telltale signs of a lie forming, yearning bleeding into your soul but he pulls your face back. A smirk playing on his mouth. 

“Look at me, sugar.” he says, “Dont lie-”

“I'm not lying-”

“Yes you are.” Before you have time to form another poor, fabricated excuse, Remmick moves with precision. His entire hand wraps around your throat, His claws digging into your skin and yet it did not puncture the vitals or muscles underneath. Careful. Your body leaps, not out of fear- No, far from fear but something much more terrifying.

Excitement.

 What's even more frightening than the thought of you liking what he's done, what he's currently doing to you, is the fact that he knows. 

“Look at the way ur squirming under me,” he laughs, “I can hear your heart racing.” He sits back, watching, observing. Loving the way your body reacts to him. Only him. 

“Tell me you want this,” He demands, “Or…I'll make you beg.” 

“Yes!” You say too loudly, too proudly. Embarrassment washed away with a strong passion to please. To be pleased. There was no use in denying it anymore, Eagerness building on your skin.  Remmick nuzzles his body back onto yours, his face tucked comfortably into your breast. He hums a low sign of approval, the sound seeps through his chest like a purr. Soon after a hiss flees your mouth when You feel a warm, rough, texture lap at the forgotten pool of blood and spit in between the crevices of your breast. His teeth scraping against your skin. He leans back up suddenly, the loss of contact almost makes you cry out. Desperate to feel him once more. Desperate to be wanted. 

He tucks his hand under your chin, lifting to view your face clearer. You looked beautiful like this. Under him, completely at his mercy. Like prey trapped in a predator's teeth. He wants more of you. 

All of you. 

“Open your mouth for me darlin’...” he says softly, nothing but adoration and need in his voice. 

Your body moves on its own, all logic and reasoning thrown out the window.  You obey him so easily, your autonomy completely lost to him. Your tongue lolls out, the cool breeze shrouding  the top of the muscle, anticipation building in your gut. Fuck, you wanted it . Wanted Him. Whatever he could give you.  You watch in a daze as Remmick pulls you closer, maneuvering your mouth right under his. He ghosts his open mouth over yours, slightly open, ready to drip warm trails of the substance right down your tongue. 

He can feel your thighs move to squeeze around his waist, a strong intensity blooming where he's still connected. He makes sure that he builds the mixed fluid along his tongue and lets gravity take its place. The taste was unpleasant and yet you wanted more. It comes out in thick, heavy, globs, flowing right into your mouth. The weight of it makes you gag but the ache you feel on your nerves only grows further. 

He sweetens the deal with locking his lips against yours. No permission needed to enter his tongue into your mouth so he could savor you, relishing the moment; Tasting his own spit, tasting the blood of the poor bastard who’s life was cut short. He tilts his head so he can get in deeper, push in closer, explore further. Your entire being completely, utterly, intoxicating . He makes sure to drag his tongue against the edges of your teeth, leaving nothing in your mouth untouched. The hunger only grows the more he consumes you. 

Hunger was an understatement. 

He was starving.

He only pulls away, reluctantly, when he feels you struggle against him. Your breathing completely fucked up and yet he didnt care. He made you like this, Debauched and panting against his lips; trying your best to catch your breath. He was going to ruin you, that was a fact. 

You think he's done when you feel him shift on his knees, like he was getting ready to scurry off to hunt some poor soul in the night once more. You should have thought better, Should have known better that he was only getting stirred on with every breathless moan and whimper you released into his mouth. 

“M’gonna eat you alive…” He says, the sense of Imminence in the air. Your eyes grow wide, danger prickling the hair on your skin. You should feel afraid, flight or fight should have kicked in and yet it doesn't. There's too many emotions running through you at this very moment; Fear, Danger but worse of all joy. Remmick uses his claws to drag them down your blouse, tearing the fabric in one go. Your chest and stomach are swiftly exposed to the open air. The sense of fear only spurs you on, heat pooling at your core. 

“When I'm done,” Remmick smiles inbetween, looking like a natural predator- scratch that, he Is a predator, “Nobody else will try and take you away from me. I'll make sure of it.” 

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆₊ °✦ ‧ ‧ ₊ ˚✧⁺˚⋆｡ °✩₊˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Tag list!: @cherryxhaze

[jellysmosh]

Better to Leave it Unsaid

Summary: You were a certified yapper, always chatting with anyone and everyone around the Smoffice. Everyone except for one person. Inspired by the song Talk Too Much by COIN.

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x GN!Reader

Tags: Fluff, mutual pining, extremely light angst if you squint

Word count: 6.1k

Note: This is a huge one! I didn't mean to make this so long, but I just kept going lol… I decided to post the whole thing rather than separate it and make y’all wait for a part 2, hehe. I take a lot of inspiration from music, if you couldn’t tell. Please enjoy~!

☆

You had always been talkative, a chatterbox, and a yapper. Your mother used to tell people that when you were a baby, you learned how to speak in full sentences before you learned how to stand on your own two feet. You couldn’t help it, you just loved to talk. It took you years to learn how to think before you speak.

You enjoyed talking to people, it genuinely made you happy to learn about others and share your thoughts. It was a form of connection, whether it was a late night heart-to-heart with your best friend or joking around with a stranger in line at the supermarket. If you could list ‘conversations’ as an interest on your resume, you absolutely would.

This trait worked to your advantage when you joined Smosh as a cast member.

“You’re so good at talking”, Ian joked with you after your first month, “you always seem to know what to say.”

“Practice makes perfect”, you grinned back as he laughed again.

You had quickly become a fan favourite, especially on Reddit Stories and as a guest on Smosh Mouth, being praised for the chemistry you had with the cast members and how you played off each other in discussions. You struggled a bit more on the games channel, you had very little video games experience and you found it difficult to remember board game rules when you played them for the first time. But the subscribers seemed to love making video compilations of everytime you forgot a rule or had to quietly ask for help mid-game.

Working at Smosh was so much fun, not just because you loved your work, but because there was such a diverse and interesting group of people you had long and frequent talks with. You had gotten to know everyone so well throughout the past few months, both cast and crew.

Well.

Everyone except for Spencer.

When you joined Smosh and met all the people working there, you had taken to Spencer in a different way than the others.

The crush you developed on him was quick and severe. You had no idea what to do with it. You were never good with romantic attraction, the few times you made the first move with a potential partner, it always ended disastrously. When it came to someone you really liked, you clammed up. Every time you were around Spencer, you panicked, and your heart sped up when he spoke to you. All the words that normally flowed out of your mouth got all tangled up in your head and stuck in your throat. Even when you two were doing your jobs and he was directing you on a game video, you responded to his directions with a silent, tight-lipped smile without making eye contact.

You did not handle cute guys well. And Spencer was cute. With his big green eyes, cheeky smile, and quick-witted humour, he was exactly your type to a T. It infuriated you, the person you wanted to have a connection with the most was so distant from you, and it was your own fault. You wanted to be close with him like everyone else, having lunch together, hanging out after work, you wanted it all. He definitely noticed how weird you were about him, because he drew back, hardly ever reaching out to you and only speaking to you when absolutely necessary. You couldn’t blame him.

The invisible wall between you guys that you had accidentally built seemed to get taller by the day, and you wished there was some way to knock it down.

☆

“Cut!”

That was a wrap on the most recent Board AF video and it was finally lunchtime. You and the other cast members hopped up from your seats as the room was filled with post-recording chatters.

“Good job, guys!” Spencer clapped his hands, “Amanda and Chanse, that was amazing teamwork. Shayne, super funny, as per usual.” He was wearing his green Smosh merch cap and a white T-shirt today. God, he looked so good.

You pretended not to notice he praised everyone else in the video besides you.

“And great banter, Y/N”, he added before turning to Alex to debrief.

Nevermind. You almost skipped out of the room from the high you got from him complimenting you.

You could really enjoy your lunch break after that. Sitting down between Angela and Amanda, you dug right in, conversing with the others at the table as you did everyday.

“I was watching the shoot just then, you know?” Angela nudged you, speaking between bites, “what’s up with you and Spence?”

You almost bit down on your tongue in surprise.

“What?” You laughed to cover the worried feeling that rose inside you, “what do you mean?”

“You know what I mean”, she spoke quietly, this was between you two. The rest of the table were not paying attention, holding their own conversation about the schedule for the rest of the week. “You, like, don’t look directly at him and you just silently do what he says. No reply, nothing.”

“I didn’t think I had to reply to every direction given”, you shot back, eyes on your food. You were dreading where this situation was heading.

“Okay, okay, no offence”, Angela lay a hand on your leg, eyebrows raised so high it made you laugh, “I have never seen you skip an opportunity to say something.” When she saw your jaw drop, she quickly added, “I’m saying this as a fellow yapper, okay? It takes one to know one. You seem to talk non-stop to anyone until it’s with Spencer, then you shut right up. Are you mad at him? Did he do something to piss you off?”

You sighed and put your fork down.

“No, Angela”, you both leaned back in your chairs, facing each other, “I’m not mad at him, he did nothing wrong.”

“Then?”

“I-”, you quickly glanced around you, checking nobody was paying attention to you two, “I don’t know. Like, I just can’t talk to him.”

“But why?” Angela had her hands out inquisitively, like this was a great mystery she had been thinking about for a long time. “How are you not able to talk to somebody? You start chattering when you hear someone enter the stall next to you in the bathroom. It’s disturbing. Nothing stops you.”

“I don’t know”, you were a lying liar. You knew damn well why you struggled to speak to him. “I just can’t!”

She eyed you suspiciously. She was squinting at you so hard, you resisted the urge to ask if she needed her glasses. This was one of the rare times you actually wanted a conversation to end as soon as possible.

“Right”, she finally conceded, a strange expression on her face, “totally. Yeah. You just don’t know.”

You nodded, smiling like nothing was bothering you. You could tell she wasn’t satisfied with your response but you were just glad she wasn’t pushing it anymore. She was very empathetic, so she could probably feel you were getting uncomfortable.

“Anyway”, she shook her head, poking you gently as she changed the topic, “what are you scheduled for tomorrow morning?”

☆

“And then I told him that I didn’t know where his wallet was and that I was sorry”, you explained, hands gesturing wildly.

“I mean, yeah”, Tommy responded while nodding, “you literally met him five minutes before, how were you meant to know?”

You were telling him a story about some guy you befriended at a bar a while ago when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. You spun around to see Spencer standing there, holding his laptop. You didn’t even hear him approaching while you were talking, how long had he been there?

“Hello”, he waved, you silently waved back and Tommy replied with his own ‘hello’. “I didn’t want to interrupt, but I need to speak to Y/N about an upcoming video. Sorry, Tommy.”

“No problem, don’t worry about it”, Tommy replied before heading back to his desk, “see you guys later.”

You wanted to yell for him to come back so you wouldn’t be alone with Spencer, but you were left with no choice but to quietly follow Spencer to the games set. He was going to quickly go through how to play a new board game you were set to play with a few of your cast mates because your schedules didn’t line up and you couldn’t be there when he taught the others.

“Okay”, he sighed, plopping down on the large grey couch. “Please sit down”, he nodded his head at the space next to him.

You carefully sat a respectable distance away from him, close enough to properly listen to him but far enough to not get you flustered. As he began to teach you the rules and show you the different cards, you tried your hardest to focus. He made it so difficult, he just looked so gorgeous. His curls were sitting just right today, one stray strand dangling down his forehead, and he was wearing that Creed shirt he always looked good in. His glasses slowly slipped down his nose when he leaned down and you bit your tongue as he adjusted them. You were trying to remember what each card did in the game, but your thoughts kept going back to how nice his voice sounded. He didn’t speak too fast and he kept the volume low since it was just you two sitting on the set, it tickled something in your brain.

“Y/N? Y/N!” His voice calling your name drew you out of your own thoughts.

A single ‘huh?’ was your clever response.

He sighed, seemingly a little frustrated.

“Did you hear anything I just said?”

“Yes”, you responded defensively, vaguely repeating some of the main points you managed to retain from when he was talking.

“Okay”, he nodded, “you did remember a few things. Sorta.”

He picked up the deck of cards and slid them back into their box as you silently watched his fingers work.

“Any questions?”

You looked up at his face to see him looking back at you with his eyebrows raised in question.

“Uh… no”, you flatly replied. You could feel your face and neck gradually get warmer the longer he looked at you.

“No? Any comments? Anything at all?”

You shook your head. Hopefully, this interaction would be ending soon before something devastating happened, like him noticing how red your face was or how clammy your hands were. You looked away and your eyes darted around the set. You didn’t like being speechless, it was an uncomfortable feeling for you.

“Y/N”, he gently pressed. You froze in place, eyes glued to the small table in front of you. “Why…”, he trailed off, not finishing his question before he stood up, “uh, nevermind. We’re done here, I guess. See you around.”

And then he was gone.

You felt relief and anxiety mix together at the bottom of your stomach. You wanted to talk to him so bad but you were so in your own head about him, about your feelings for him. In another world, where you could get over your feelings for him, you could be best friends. You could be talking all day long, asking about each other's days, how your families were going, what your weekend plans were.

Instead, right now, you were the only person in the room, left sitting alone on an empty set.

☆

“What is their problem?” Spencer grumbled, partly to himself, partly to Alex and Shayne, interrupting the conversation they were having right next to Spencer’s desk. They both turned to look down at him, borderline sulking in his chair.

“Y/N?” Shayne hit the nail on the head immediately. Spencer didn’t often talk about his strained relationship with you, but the few times he did have been with these two in particular.

“Yeah”, he lifted his glasses to rub his eyes, “I just met with them to explain the new game we’re playing tomorrow.”

“Awkward?” Alex grinned.

“So awkward”, Spencer threw his hands up, “I really don’t get it! They just refuse to say anything to be besides ‘yes’, ‘no’, and ‘huh?’”

They could tell Spencer was getting frustrated, not quite angry, moreso confused and unsure on what to do.

“It’s been months since they started”, Shayne crossed his arms, tone neutral, “have they not had a proper conversation with you even once?”

“Never”, Spencer replied, “what about you guys?”

“All the time”, Shayne replied sheepishly.

“Yeah, all the time”, Alex nodded, almost apologetically. “I talked to them this morning about Fortnite for like half an hour. They asked me to explain it to them.”

“You’re kidding me”, Spencer whined, he just could not wrap his head around why you guys just didn’t click. “I would have killed to explain Fortnite to someone for the first time.”

The other two seemed bemused by his turmoil. Spencer feared they may not be taking this seriously. It was serious. Over the past months, he had watched you grow close with other people at Smosh, chatting and bonding so naturally it was as if you had worked there for years. Whenever he saw you, you were always in the middle of a lengthy conversation with someone; you had gained a reputation around the office as an amazing listener who would be easy to talk to for hours. Spencer thought you two could get along great, he was not the most talkative, but he loved to chat and loved to listen. However, Spencer seemed to be the one person in the company that you refused to talk to.

It didn’t help that he thought you were very attractive. It drove him insane, he felt this inexplicable draw to you and yet you avoided even making eye contact with him. Did you find out about his crush on you? Were you grossed out? Was that why you avoided speaking to him? There was no way though, he hadn’t told a single person about how attracted he was to you.

“Look, man”, Shayne gained his attention again, “if it really bothers you, you have to talk to them. They can’t read your mind, they might not even realise they’re doing it.”

That made Spencer laugh, you definitely knew you were doing it.

“Yeah, what Shayne said”, Alex chimed in, “talking to them is going to be a way better approach than sitting on your ass, ripping out your hair trying to solve it.”

“Maybe”, he groaned, turning back to his computer to continue his work, “I’ll think about it.”

Alex and Shayne shared a knowing look before leaving him alone.

☆

The next time you spoke to Spencer alone, he accosted you in the break room.

You were stirring the tea you had just made when you heard footsteps behind you slowly coming to a stop.

Before you could turn around and greet whoever it was, you heard Spencer’s apprehensive voice, “Alex mentioned you were showing an interest in Fortnite.”

You almost dropped your mug, but you managed to keep a firm grip on it as you turned around to face him. You tried to say something but faltered before closing your mouth and nodding. You already knew this was going to be another failed attempt at a conversation. You might as well have run for it then and there.

“Okay, well”, he put his hands in his pockets as he continued, “we could play together sometime? Or I could arrange for us to play on the channel in the future or something.”

You blinked a few times. He was asking to play Fortnite together. You felt so excited, you wanted to chug your tea down like a beer and give him a huge kiss but you controlled your impulses. You were curious about the game because of Spencer talking about it all the time and showing Angela how to play, so you enquired about the game from Alex a few days ago. You saw a chance to get through the invisible wall, conquer your feelings, and really get to know Spencer. You were determined to get over this stupid crush of yours for the sake of befriending him, you were tired of being the only person that didn’t get to enjoy his company.

“That sounds fun”, you managed to blurt out, both you and Spencer seemed shocked that you were actually speaking to him. “I mean, I’m not very experienced with video games, but it looks like a lot of fun”, your voice was quivering from nerves and you just prayed he didn’t notice, “I think all the cosmetics are really cool too.”

“Yes!” Spencer seemed to almost jump at the opportunity to talk to you, “they released a Sabrina Carpenter skin. You like her, don’t you?”

Your heart was going a mile a minute, were you actually managing to talk to him? And how did he know you were a fan of Sabrina Carpenter?

“Yeah, I love her!” You found yourself actually smiling, even though you were resisting the urge to find the nearest escape route like some kind of prey animal, “I didn’t know she had a collaboration with them. I actually just ordered the Short n’ Sweet Deluxe vinyl record I’ve been wanting for ages, it took me, like, an hour to decide which colour to get.”

“And which colour was that?” He asked.

“The blue one”, you quickly replied, “the white pearl one was pretty but I wanted the brighter colour. I thought it would look cuter on my record player.”

You were so excited that Spencer seemed interested in talking to you, it almost outweighed the incredible amount of nerves you were experiencing in that moment. You were trying your absolute hardest to form normal words and sentences in his presence. Having his whole attention on you as you spoke was so foreign and just as scary as it normally was, but it was also sort of thrilling. You felt like a teenager again, trying something new and rebellious that you figured you might regret later. There was a paradox of wanting to talk to him like this more to aid in your mission to get over your feelings for him, but the more he looked at you and spoke to you, the more you felt yourself falling.

You were making crazy progress on holding a conversation with him, though. You were definitely being more reserved than when you chatted with other people in the office, but this was breaking the record for longest talk you’ve ever had with him. It made your heart beat so fast you were scared you would pass out.

You had moved onto the topic of music and your record collection, the one you had been working on ever since you moved into your own apartment.

“I have about 30 now”, you had a small, proud smile on your face, “it’s growing slowly, I try not to blow all my money on them.”

“No, I get it”, he said back, grinning, “that is so cool, frankly.”

You felt your entire upper body flush with heat when he said that, your face feeling red and tingly. Part of you wanted to squeal at his compliment and the other part wanted to disappear, dig a hole into the floor and hide in it. Yapping came so naturally to you, but it was still proving difficult to speak to him. Your brain was in overdrive, trying so hard to pick the right words to say and string them into coherent sentences, stuff that was as easy as breathing when you spoke to anybody else.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Spencer sounded worried all of a sudden. When you looked at him with a confused expression, he pointed at your mug, “your hands are shaking pretty bad right now, you might want to put that drink down.”

You hadn’t noticed, you were indeed shaking, little ripples running through your tea from the movement.

“I’m okay”, you tried to grin widely, but it felt like a grimace. You tightened your hold on your tea, willing yourself to stop trembling. You realised you had probably reached your limit on talking to Spencer for today. Any more and you may have a heart attack. “Just a bit of the shakes, I have weak arms”, you lied.

“Are you sure-“

“Yes!” Your reply was too hasty and too loud, “yes, of course! I really need to get back to work though.”

He nodded as you cautiously stepped past him and almost jogged towards the exit, careful not to spill your drink.

“Talk to you later, Y/N.”

You paused, looking at him over your shoulder. You could have sworn he looked worried, nervous even. You felt extra light on your feet knowing he wanted to talk to you again.

“Yeah”, you couldn’t help the smile that took over your face, cheeks red and hands damp with sweat, “yeah, talk to you later, Spencer.”

He smiled back in a way that made your chest hurt and you couldn’t figure out if there was actually a halo of glowing light around him or you were hallucinating. You had to turn away and keep walking or you would have burst into flames with how warm your entire body had become. The gentle way he spoke to you replayed in your head over and over and over.

How the hell were you going to get over him?

☆

Spencer couldn’t help smiling to himself as he typed. He was a little distracted from his work today.

“What’s gotten into you?” Alex asked, alarmed at his behaviour. “You’re acting weird and happy and giddy.”

“Excuse me?”

“No, it’s just… did something happen?” Alex abandoned their desk and came over to him. They could be such a gossip sometimes. “Did you finally ask Y/N what the problem was?”

“No”, Spencer stopped doing his work too, turning to look at them, “but we had, like, an actual conversation.”

Alex’s eyebrows shot up, “wow, really?”

“Yes, dude, we talked about Sabrina Carpenter in Fortnite and their record collection”, he was obviously excited, “and it wasn’t a long talk, but they spoke actual sentences to me.”

“Good for you, buddy”, Alex patted his back, trying not to laugh as Spencer turned back to his monitor with a huge smile on his face, “good for you.”

☆

It had been a week since you had that discussion with Spencer and you were still reeling from it. You both got very busy and you didn’t really find yourself alone with him after that. You were both excited and very scared about the next time you could potentially talk. You had been mentally hyping yourself up before work everyday, just in case. You were determined to push your feelings down as far as possible, so you could have a longer conversation next time.

It was a sunny Friday morning when you breezed through the door, mood high because the barista at the cafe remembered your order and gave you a dollar discount. You greeted every single person you walked past and gave Courtney a huge hug when you saw her.

“You’re in a good mood”, they laughed, “happy Friday, huh?”

“I just feel like today’s gonna be an amazing day”, you hummed, pulling away and grabbing her hand. You swung them around between you wildly as you spoke, “the weather’s gorgeous, my coffee tastes extra good this morning, you look beautiful. It’s been great so far.”

She leaned forward and laughed hard.

“Are you sure it’s not because you’re filming with Spence later?”

“What?” You stopped swinging your arm, looking at her with wide eyes, “that’s not why- no, I didn’t even know, no, well, I did know but, that’s not a reason to- like, I don’t even…”

“Okay, breathe”, Courtney was wheezing with laughter now, “I was just teasing, Y/N. You’re okay.”

You fanned your face lightly, why was it so hot in here all of a sudden? Did they know about your feelings for Spencer? You swore you were working on that. Hopefully, the mention of him won’t make you feel like this soon.

“I’ve never seen you stumble over words like that before”, they started swinging your arms again, “what was that about? I thought you didn’t like him.”

“It’s not that I don’t like him”, you explained, shaking your head, “I like him! I like him a lot!”

Another weakness of yours that came along with being a yapper was your bad habit of over-explaining. You couldn’t shut up if you tried, unfortunately.

“You… like him a lot?” Courtney raised a single eyebrow, “never heard you admit that before. That’s very interesting.”

“No!” You let go of her hand to wave yours in front of her in a panic, “no, not like that!”

“Yeah”, she replied, slowly stepping away from you and heading back in the direction she was originally going, “totally, yeah. You didn’t mean it like that.”

You rushed away to your desk, cheeks flared up and your head down to hide it. You didn’t see Courtney look back at you with a mischievous smirk.

☆

“Y/N is on one today”, Courtney gasped as everyone was trying to catch their breath. You had told an off-hand, low-brow joke that you did not expect to land, but apparently everyone at Smosh had the humour of a 12 year old boy. Your chest swelled with pride, not from making everyone at the table laugh, but for making specifically Spencer laugh so hard, he was covering his face with his hands.

You silently thanked the heavens that you got to film a Moose Master video with Spencer today without going through the emotional and physical torture of sitting directly next to him. In your opinion, he looked super hot today, he was wearing a hoodie and pushed the sleeves up instead of taking it off when the game really heated up. All you wanted was to stop looking at the cameras and just stare at his tattoos to commit them to memory. Making him laugh while he looked so good was like doing crack. Or what you imagined doing crack was like.

As the game continued, the volume in the room only increased, more rules making people screw up and yell at each other. It was getting intense.

“You said her first name!” You pointed at Noah accusingly, interrupting the tirade he was on, “you broke a rule! I got your ass!”

“Y/N”, clearly frustrated, Noah put his hand up in your face, “shut up for once!” He then continued with the argument he was having with Amanda.

The comment was played for laughs, clearly all in the lighthearted spirit of the game. You had to admit the way he worded it hurt a little bit. But at the end of the day, you knew he didn’t mean it, you had all said stuff you didn’t mean in the heat of the moment. It wasn’t a big deal, so you got over that twang of pain pretty fast.

Seeming to notice you had become uncharacteristically silent for a moment, Spencer locked eyes with you from across the table. He silently raised his eyebrows and gave you a miniscule nod, you knew this meant ‘are you okay?’ Your cheeks flushed at him paying attention to solely you amongst the chaos and you nodded back in assurance before returning to the game.

His consideration unleashed a thousand butterflies in your stomach, it was clearly not a big deal, but he still wanted to check on you. You almost wanted to be mad at him for being so cute and sweet. He really was not going to let this ‘getting over your crush’ thing easy.

☆

After an hour, filming wrapped and everyone slowly dispersed. You lingered back a little, discussing something random with Courtney. You two walked off the set a little slower than the others, and once you were back in the main section of the office, you bid Courtney adieu as they went off to take care of something else.

“Hey Y/N”, you jumped a little in surprise, you hadn’t realised Spencer was standing by the door, just out of sight. “Can we talk for a second?”

Oh my god, here we go. You had been gearing up for your next one-on-one conversation with Spencer, you wanted this one to go off without a hitch, leaving him thinking you were charismatic and clever. The problem lay in the fact that when you were finally alone with him, and his beautiful eyes were gazing into yours and only yours, your mind went completely blank.

“Yeah”, you replied, exhaling. You didn’t even realise you had been holding your breath. You were glad nobody else was around to see you embarrass yourself.

“Did…”, Spencer scratched the back of his neck, “did what Noah said during that video upset you? I mean, I know you nodded like you were okay, but I just wanted to check on you to make sure, because that was a pretty rude thing to say”, his eyes were avoiding yours this time, “even though I know you know he didn’t really mean it. That doesn’t make it okay, though. Okay, I’m rambling right now, I’m gonna stop…”

You stared at him speechlessly. He was being so unbelievably cute right now. The care he was showing for you and your feelings endeared him to you so much it hurt.

“Spencer, you’re making this so hard”, you groaned without thinking. When you realised what you said, you wanted to run again. Flight or fight activated.

He furrowed his brow in confusion, “making what hard?”

Now you’ve gone and done it. You were incredibly embarrassed, searching the floor for some sort of way out of this situation.

“No, Noah didn’t make me uncomfortable”, you said in a monotone voice.

“Y/N, what am I making hard?” He ignored you and took a step forward, you started to panic.

“That’s what she said”, you couldn’t even laugh at your joke. He didn’t laugh either, and that made you feel even worse.

“Y/N”, Spencer slowly reached for you, as if you were a skittish wild animal. You tried your hardest not to flinch when he gently put his hand on your upper arm. “What’s going on? You can tell me.”

You finally looked up at him. There was an entire galaxy in his eyes you wanted to explore. He had gotten so close to you, but you wanted him even closer.

“I know you don’t really like talking to me, but”, he swallowed, “I really want to change that. You just need to tell me what to do.”

“I do, though”, you mumbled, your face felt so hot, you could probably cook an egg on it. “I want to talk to you all the time, it’s just-”, you shut your mouth, not daring to say anything further.

“What am I making hard for you, Y/N?” He was whispering now.

There was a beat of silence. It couldn’t have been more than ten seconds, but it felt like it stretched on for hours.

“Getting over you”, you whispered back meekly, hands balling into fists by your sides. “Getting over my big, fat crush on you”, you said a little louder, you were diving into the deep end, laying bare your soul for him.

“What?” Spencer’s eyes had widened to the size of saucers, entire body almost recoiling in surprise. “That doesn’t make sense. I thought you didn’t like me. You talk to every single person in the office like they’re your best friend except for me.”

“Y-you make me nervous”, you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, “I’ve never been any good at talking to cute guys I like.”

Spencer’s cheeks flushed a deep red. He seemed almost as flustered as you.

“But!” You were fighting to save the situation, the last thing you wanted was to completely fuck up the work environment for both of you because of your schoolyard crush. “I promise I’m trying my best to get over my feelings for you. And then it’ll be so much easier to chat, and we can yap all day long together! I just need some time to work on it, that’s all.”

“Stop”, he murmured, tone pleading. He had stepped even closer, you could feel the heat coming off his body. Or it was just the heat your own face was generating. You were pretty sure you were visibly sweating. “Stop that.”

“What-”

“I don’t want you to”, he gently took your hand and you felt like you couldn’t breathe, a shiver ran up your spine, “I don’t want you to get over me.” His green eyes bore into yours, your heart thudded against your ribcage as you willed yourself not to break eye contact. “I haven’t been able to get over you, you know”, he spoke to you in a quiet tone you had never heard from him before, “ever since we talked in the break room, I’ve been thinking about you all the time.”

You opened your mouth and closed it a few times, completely in shock and searching for words that were not coming to you. You were so accustomed to knowing what to say in reply to pretty much anything, the constant flow of conversation buzzing at the back of your head came to a screeching halt. There was nothing but a heavy silence in your head as the man you’ve been pining for was metaphorically grabbing your heart out of your chest and claiming it as his.

“Just… thinking about you and how funny and bright you are”, he kept going, you had never heard Spencer word-vomit like this and it made your heart soar, “you talk so loud, but I love it because I can still hear you even though you won’t talk to me”, that made you laugh, your free hand coming up to cover your red face. “Your jokes always get me, and I love how you laugh with your whole body. I’m just always thinking about your smile, and your humour, and how kind you are to everyone, you’ve been driving me crazy.”

You covered his mouth with your trembling hand. You were so flustered, you felt like you were going to melt into a puddle any second. He looked at you with expectant eyes, round and imploring, like he was asking a silent question.

“You’re talking more than me for once”, you inspected every part of his face, you rarely had the opportunity to do that, you had been avoiding being close to him all this time after all. He chuckled behind your hand, the way his eyes crinkled a little in the corners when he smiled made you want to scream. You worried that he might be able to feel your racing pulse. “I never thought you would like me back.”

He slowly pushed your hand away from his mouth, “and I never thought you would like me. You acted like you hated me.”

“Okay”, you started, cutting yourself off with an embarrassed chortle, “I was panicking every time I saw you, I’m sorry!”

You joked with each other like that for the next few minutes, your heartbeat slowing slightly as you calmed down. Your chest tightened with excitement as you realised he had inched even closer, almost touching you. He looked at you with so much affection in his eyes when you laughed at something he said. You felt like you were on cloud nine.

“So”, you looked down at your fingers still interlocked, “what does this mean for us then?”

“Well”, Spencer pretended to think really hard, “if you can actually stand talking to me for more than five minutes,” he ignored you as you smacked his chest in fake offence, “would you like to go on a date with me?”

You hummed, also pretending to think really hard. He grinned at you, eyes fond. You wondered if he had been looking at you like that all this time.

“Yes, I think I’d like that”, you answered softly.

Feeling bold, you leaned in slightly, wondering if you could get away with kissing him on the cheek. He had other plans, tilting his head so his lips were almost grazing yours. He stayed still, waiting on you, always waiting on you. Both of you had your eyes half closed, transfixed on each other’s lips. Your stomach flipped as you took the leap, moving forward and pressing your mouth against his. It was absolute bliss.

Just like that, the invisible wall between you came tumbling down. It was like it was never there in the first place as Spencer’s hand squeezed yours tight.

☆

Note: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think! Also, I am happy for people to send requests, I want to try writing shorter fics, so that would be perfect! If you have sent me an ask, please be patient with me as I work through them, thanks guys. <333

♡ masterlist

[https-bobreynolds]

insane together

pairing: robert ‘bob’ reynolds x reader, mentions of the void x the enchantress

summary: just a random conversation on a monday morning in the kitchen with your boyfriend, bob.

author’s note: this is just pure random fluff, thanks for all the love guys <3 am not having a good time rn, reading all your comments and reblogs makes me feel so much better

“love,” you called the man, your boyfriend, who’s sitting beside you, “do you ever find it weird..?”

he gave you a look, “do i find… what, weird?”

“the fact that the two entities inside of us are also a thing?”

bob sighed, sipping on his cup of coffee. “it is a bit… weird, i suppose. why… why do you ask?”

you shrugged, “i don’t know, the thought just crossed my mind, that’s all.”

bob nodded, setting his cup down on the kitchen counter, “well yes, it is weird, but i prefer not to think too much about it, it’s-“ he paused, trying to find the right words, “it’s like… trying to make sense of an unsolvable math problem.”

you chuckled lightly, “yeah… i guess it is pretty much like that, huh?”

he nodded, a small smile on his face, “yeah… i don’t really want to get a headache trying to do the math to figure them out.”

you nodded, picking up your mug, “yeah, i don’t want to either. our relationship already confuses the public enough, imagine what their reaction would be if they find out that our respective entities are practically dating, too.”

bob chuckled quietly, his expression turning amused, “probably… probably just utter confusion and disbelief, followed by a lot of questions, and a few headaches.”

you laughed, “yeah, no kidding. they’re either going to think we’re insane or we have lost our minds completely. maybe both.”

he nodded, a smirk on his face, “oh yeah, they’ll definitely freak out. and imagine how they’ll react when they learn about the whole treaty thing we have with them…”

you rolled your eyes, a small grin on your face, “that’ll blow their minds- they’ll wonder how the hell we manage to come to an agreement with a goddess, worshipped by the pre-columbian maya and inca civilizations, AND a destructive entity which is the literal embodiment of depression.”

bob chuckled, “yeah, i’m sure they will. hell, i don’t… i don’t think they’d even believe us if we told them the whole thing… they’ll think we made it up.”

you nodded, “honestly, i wouldn’t be surprised if they do end up thinking we made it all up. the whole idea of it sounds a bit ridiculous when you say it out loud, don’t you think? who do you think will believe that?”

he sighed, “not one person for sure. they’ll think we belong in a mental institution… but… i don’t mind, though. being crazy with you seems better than being normal. a-at least, in my opinion.”

you rolled your eyes playfully at that, “yeah? you enjoy being crazy with me, huh? do you like being labeled as insane?”

he chuckled, “hey, being insane with you? i love it. as long as we stick together… i don’t care what people think of me or what they label us as.”

you cracked a smile, “yeah, who needs normalcy anyways? insane together, right?”

he returned the smile, his eyes filled with affection, “insane together indeed, sweetheart.”

tag list:

@lovetoalll

[ilxlita]

｡ﾟ(｡ﾉωヽ｡)ﾟ｡ 𝙞 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙢𝙮 𝙬𝙞𝙛𝙚, 𝙩𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙨, 𝙞 𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨 𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙖 𝙡𝙤𝙩.

SYNOPSIS: a headcanon of how bnha boys (and toga) are whenever they miss you. PAIRINGS: various bnha boys x reader, also toga is included because it'd be fucked if i used her as an image and she weren't. like she is literally the definition of "i miss my wife tails". TAGS: pure fluff. so sweet. bakugou does have a VERY VERY small section of nsfw if you squint. all characters are aged up for my own mental health. in my head toga is also a pro hero but i guess you could picture her as a villain if you're a monster /j. AUTHORS NOTE: literally toga is not beloved enough. she is the literal defintion of "I LOVE MY WIFE SO MUCH". like hello, what?

IZUKU MIDORIYA ♡ the man that he is. izuku for sure misses you as SOON as he leaves the house whether that be for a pro hero mission or for work, he is missing you. ♡ 100% is texting you as soon as you or he leaves the houses. like he is such a needy husband. he will conjure up a reason to send you a cute little text whether that be asking what you want for dinner or sending you a picture of a feral cat. ♡ izuku, when you guys are married, is not shy about how much he misses you. whenever people ask him what he's doing after his mission he will announce "me and my wife are doing..." like even if you're not a pro hero other pro heroes KNOW YOU because of how much izuku gushes over you ♡ heaven forbid he ever goes on a multiple day long mission or else he might actually call you all the time. asks you to send him voice messages of your day, asks you to call him so he doesn't fall asleep alone. sends you little videos of him going throughout his day. ♡ when he gets back it is 100% date night !! he will take you to a fancy resturant he saw, or he will take you to a cute little store and insistenet you purchase as much as you want no matter how expensive it is. he really just loves his wife.

KATSUKI BAKUGOU ♡ katsuki bakugou never misses anyone ever. if you ask him he will say he does NOT think about you during his missions because he is locked into his mission. if anyone brings up the fact that katsuki DEFINITELY stares at a photo of you when he's away HE WILL DENY. ♡ katsuki shows that he misses you never through words, but always through words. he will text you randomly throughout the day just things like "what are you eating? has to be better than this garbage ass food" or "found this candle that you would like since you like spending money on useless crap i bought it for you." ♡ KATSUKI FOR SURE GETS BUTTHURT WHEN YOU LEAVE HIM ON READ. like you're working and cannot text him back immediately? he'll respond with "guess we're just leaving each other on read then" or something like "damn guess i should've married a wall at least im not expecting a text back from it." like katsuki is the sassy man apocolapyse. ♡ he 100% buys trinkets for you that reminded him of you. a little stuffed bunny from the store? that's literally you so usually when he comes home it's with a few cute gifts depending on how long he was away for. ♡ the day he comes home is reserved for "miss you" sex and him pampering you and treating you like a princess. he will cook you a beautiful gourmet meal, present his gifts and brush little kisses on your face.

HIMIKO TOGA ♡ as stated previously. himiko is quite literally the definition of "i miss my wife" along with izuku. like she HATES going out of town for missions because she is constantly thinking of you, what you're doing, if you miss her as much as she misses you. ♡ pro hero toga would NOT take your blood and drink it to comfort herself (but villain toga for sure would), my girl is for sure bringing things that remind her of you. if you bought her cute little hair ties she will only wear those! told her one of the necklaces she wore was cute and she will wear it always. ♡ toga for sure goes harder in battles when she's away from you because she HAS TO GET HOME TO HER WIFE OBVIOUSLY. like she will not be dying today, her wife misses her :/. furthermore she is also constantly calling and texting you even if she's in the middle of battle, like she will have you on a phone call in her ear buds while in battle. ♡ "how's your day, cutie patootie?" and all you hear is an explosion in the background before you go on about your day. it is very rare that himiko is not only given out of town missions but also takes them because she hates being away from one of the few people who loves her genuinely. ♡ himiko is absolutely putty in your hands when she does get home, like literally whatever you want. she'll cuddle you close to her chest and if you see a cute pair of high heels you want she is buying them for you INSTANTLY.

HITOSHI SHINSOU

♡ due to the nature of his work hitoshi will not be texting you or calling you during his missions. he is very rarely on his phone because he is often doing undercover spy work, but please do not take that to mean he does not miss you. ♡ hitoshi is very soft; he is not used to missing someone so he is not quite sure what to do with the feeling of wanting you next to him and that usually manifests in him doing things that remind you of him especially while he's undercover. ♡ your favourite meal becomes his favourite meal while he's away, your favourite colour is now his, your favourite scent is now his. hitoshi will always leave you with a hoodie that smells the most like him but in return he's taking one his shirts that you always sleep in so he can smell you while he sleeps. ♡ because hitoshi does undercover work, he is often by other people. often surrounded, but if he's not and he's going on a mission with aizawa or another undercover pro hero he is bringing you up so often in casual conversation, someone definitely has to tell him to stop because he doesn't realise he does it. ♡ when he gets home you are not leaving the bed. he is cuddling you close to his chest, explaining the mission to you and absolutely forcing you to tell him how your days were when he was gone. he will buy take out and pay that twenty dollar delivery fee just so you two can stay wrapped in each other at all times.

SHOUTA AIZAWA ♡ shouta, much like hitoshi, is usually constantly doing cover work which means that it would be dangerous to constantly be in contact with you and he tells you this each time before he leaves just so he can remind you that he is not ignoring you; he simply has to be locked in. ♡ shouta does not text you or call you, but whenever he's alone on a rooftop or in his hotel room he will look back at the photos and videos of you two especially your wedding photos where you are just glowing. ♡ shouta for SURE has a printed out photo of you laughing at him candid on the wedding day. he has it in a little necklace that he can look at whenever he misses you too much. feel like if you have stuffed animals he steals one so he can sleep with it (not cuddle it), but for sure sleep with it. ♡ shouta also likes to buy little knick knacks for your shared home whenever he is gone. it's usually like a little special magnanet, a teddy bear to add to your collection, a snowglobe if he goes to another country, just little things. ♡ shouta when he gets home is usually dog tired so he will insist that you take a nap with him regardless of the time of day afterwards he drowns himself in domestic tasks; cooking, cleaning the home, doing laundry. all things to try and pick up the slack that he left when he was gone.

KEIGO TAKAMI ♡ keigo is in the very awkward position of missing you immensely on his missions and having absolutely no idea how to express it because he has never been in the position to miss anybody ever. like he is used to a solitary life and now he has a wife that he is missing? he has no idea what to do with himself. ♡ the first day of him gone he is playing cool and nonchalant. each time he thinks he won't miss you, but it's always something little and stupid that triggers him spiraling and missing you (usually a song or a smell) and he is spam texting you. ♡ keigo also constantly wants to do phone calls, especially at night when he is calming down and relaxing becase he thinks of you the most when he is at ease. call you up so you can fall asleep to the sound of his voice and so he can fall asleep to the sound of you talking about your day. ♡ he is also definitely indulging in buying you trinkets, but it's usually not cute little one. it's usually expensive necklaces, beautiful earrings/bracellets, and if you have any body modifications he is 100% buying expensive body jewlerry. he is a bird and showers his partner in expensive and shiny things. ♡ usually when keigo gets back it's late so he will tuck himself into you and sleep. the next day he is taking you to an expensive fancy brunch or if you want an amazing homemade dinner. literally he just wants to feed you and take care of you, he wants you to know that there was not a single moment of the mission where he wasn't thinking of you (without actually just saying it.)

[tboyrory]

Not even gonna tag this because it’s an inconsequential rant but I had the “pleasure” of stumbling on a certain blog while scrolling through my other account, and god damn.

They really do just fucking hate us. Sure I’ve seen all the posts from other trans guys about bloggers that say shit like “whiny tmes with their afab privilege,” and it’s not that I thought y’all were exaggerating, I just never wrapped my head around the fact those blogs say that shit seriously. I expected the transandrophobia, dislike of masculinity, particularly trans masculinity. I wasn’t fully prepared for the other batshit stuff. They seriously believe nonbinary and intersex people have a systemic advantage simply because they’ve shoved them into the TME label, or just straight up didn’t know what to do when person in question didn’t fit neatly into their binary built based on sex assigned at birth and gender. Yet claim they’re intersectional and against misogyny while saying shit that’s so fucking misogynistic, sprinkling in a bit of white people misappropriating racial topics so they can compare themselves to the oppression of POC, and you’ve got… whatever the fuck that was. Block button felt like therapy. Do not want to see that shit on my account dedicated to “not seeing this shit.”

If any of y’all think I’m making a straw man, go look for yourselves if you’ve got the mental space for it. I wish I was joking.

[fligniuz]

when in luzern

luigi mangione x reader x m! OC

｡𖦹°‧ you and your boyfriend make a friend during your travels.

word count: 9.7k • nsfw • read on ao3

tag list : @mangionebabymama , @mangobabygirl , @jenisaswift13 , @mangionesdaisy , @iinfinitelimits , @daydreamingwithluigi , @mrs-cactus69 , @mashkatzi , @straw8berry , @bean-is-reading , @luigis-wetdream , @difensore-del-popolo , @contrarianshitstan , @lunacelia , @lilbadblueeee , @hiscalliope , @luiluvr (comment to be added)

warnings : an ATTEMPT at representing swiss german in fic…f! reader; m! OC; EXPLICIT; threesome (m/m/f); luigi lets it all hang out during a trip to switzerland; drug use (alcohol + weed); oral (m! + f! receiving); voyeurism + exhibitionism; unprotected (practice safe sex!!!!!!); bisexual train; SAY GEX (luigi tops); multiple penetration; come sharing (i think), fluff at the end

notes : hey…so like…idk how many of you are even gonna be into this and i’m expecting it to flop but…it’s pride month and i’ve been wanting to write this concept for a while so this is what you get from me i understand if you wanna skip out on this one it was mostly for me💚 if you DO read thank you very much and happy pride from your resident enby luiginator!!!!🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️

P.S: if you need some help visualizing i kinda imagined galli looking a bit like this fine shyt who showed up for like 5 minutes of severance season 2 and then disappeared😩but you’re free to imagine him however you’d like <3

^ divider by cafekitsune

This guy playing the bagpipe at Neubad can’t keep his eyes off of you.

Or Luigi. Hard to say. 

He’s tall, a bit lanky, moving like he’s got the joints of an accordion, wearing way too much plaid, and donning a well-groomed mustache. You can’t guess the color of his eyes from this distance, but you know that they are sharp, brimming with energy and intent, focused entirely on…something in your vicinity. He could either be nineteen or thirty two. His fingers move quickly, gracefully—the head of the bagpipe’s chanter has pointy ears like that of a cat, painted with a tiny golden face. One word comes to mind: twinkish. An original invention.

He is mesmerizing, as is his stare. The music is just as hypnotic. The vibes are strong, and everyone in this venue—or, rather, former swimming pool—is feeling it. You’ve been walking around the streets of Lucerne looking for some plans to make, and when you heard the live music spilling from this cultural venue, the two of you instantly knew where you’d be spending your afternoon. You got lucky; two kind patrons offered up their front row seats on the way out, which you were quick to take.

So here you sit with your boyfriend, tapping your leg and swinging your head to the folksy rhythm filling your ears. Luigi seems to be enjoying himself, too; every so often you catch him looking toward you, the curve of his smile sneaking onto his face like a note passed under the table. He looks content. 

Right now, though, he leans over, his voice hardly louder than the music:

“Do you think that dude on the bagpipe has a problem with us?”

You shrug, still dancing in your seat. “Why would he?”

“I don’t know!” he says, brows furrowed. “Maybe he can sense that we’re Americans from that far away.”

“Or,” you rebut, grinning to yourself, “he just thinks we’re hot.”

He snorts. Nudges you with his elbow. “Yeah, okay. That would be all you. Not we.”

“How would you know?”

Luigi doesn’t answer, because the song has ended and the rows of seats behind you have risen with applause. You join them, standing up and whistling in admiration. From the corner of your eye you see your boyfriend cringing. The band thanks the crowd for joining—“merci vilmal!”—and begin to pack up their instruments, chatting amongst themselves in a cheerful blur of animated Swiss German. As people start to file out of the hollow impromptu stage, you grab Luigi’s hand and yank him toward you.

“C’mon,” you urge. “We gotta find out what the fuck this place even is.”

He laughs. “You’re nonstop.”

“You knew that already. Let’s go.”

Neubad is not only a place of culture—it is a shrine of fantastic craft beer.

You and Luigi are perched at the bar, chatting back-and-forth and nursing tall glasses of something thick and malty when someone approaches and takes the seat right next to yours with a sort of quiet confidence; as if they have done this very thing many times before.

Bagpipe Guy. 

Mr. Staring Problem himself. You could recognize those kinetic eyes anywhere—and you can see now that they are green, a beautiful, muted green that spills out from his pupils like moss on a stump. The kind of green that clings and shimmers. He says something, accent thick—question-shaped, most certainly, but you’d be better off trying to interpret braille.

He watches the confusion wash over your faces, and then laughs. It’s loud, booming and brave like a drumroll. 

“Ah,” he says. “English, yes?”

You and Luigi nod sheepishly.

“I asked how you two are doing tonight,” he clarifies.

“Oh!” You glance towards your boyfriend and smile, relieved to know you haven’t made fools of yourselves yet. “We’re doing well, thanks! Very well. We really loved your music.”

The man makes a face, one of apprehension. As if he is unconvinced. “Really? I feel that we weren’t our best tonight.”

Luigi laughs in surprise, projecting a thumb in your direction. “Nah. You guys killed it. She danced the whole time.”

You did. You know he saw.

Bagpipe Guy smiles. “Where are you two from?”

“America,” you both say simultaneously.

“I could have guessed,” he quips, nodding. “And your names?”

This time you take turns speaking.

“Very well!” he exclaims. He extends both of his hands for each of you to shake, but it looks more like he’s presenting an invisible feast. “I am Galli. It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

“Galli,” Luigi reiterates, like he’s trying it on for size. “You and your bagpipe have great chemistry.”

Galli laughs at that. “I call her Desideria! She is my better half.”

At that he points to the hard-shell case slung over his shoulders—you assume Desideria the Bagpipe lays beyond the metal and plastic. When Galli pats the head of it you imagine Desideria herself purring rhythmically inside. Luigi shares a laugh with you, takes a swig of his beer.

“What brings you both to Switzerland?” Galli asks.

“We wanted something more quiet and rustic,” Luigi explains. “And she has this fetish for Swiss cheese, so she wanted to try it straight from the source.”

“It’s true,” you affirm, nodding. “I will go to unspeakable lengths for a good fondue.”

Galli grins. “And the chocolate?”

You gasp in remembrance—of course you two have tried it. The finest, smoothest, creamiest delight that’s ever melted in your mouth is the Cailler bar you grabbed at one of the many souvenir shops the two of you have visited.

“Oh, the chocolate!” you exclaim, clasping a hand over your chest—a completely appropriate display of affection for such a religiously admired delicacy. “Absolutely bomb. Wait—how would you say it? Like, the Swiss way?”

“Mega fein!” Galli demonstrates, accentuating his words with a very serious chef’s kiss. You and Luigi repeat after him, emphasizing the ei diphthong and the soft ah, much to your new friend’s amusement.

Galli claps joyfully. “You guys are fun,” he says. “Usually, Americans, ehh…Loud. Rude. But no—you two have taste.”

Gesturing toward your boyfriend, you joke, “he thought you had a problem with us. He was like, ‘can he sense our American spirit from that far away?’ because you kept staring at us.”

“I didn’t say that,” Luigi protests, badly. Chump.

“Ah!” Galli nods. “I was staring...I apologize. How rude of me.”

You laugh, shaking off his sudden bashfulness. “We were just trying to figure out which one of us you had your eyes on.”

And then this eccentric, mustached, plaid-wearing, bagpipe-toting Swiss man pauses, glancing between the two of you as he rests his chin atop his clasped hands.

“You are mistaken,” he says. “I was staring at both of you.”

You’re not sure if Luigi looks at you first, or if you look at him—but what comes next is anticipant giggles from both of you, amusement and perhaps something more lingering in your gazes. Your cheeks are warm. Luigi’s are already pink.

“Are you drunk?” Galli asks, as casual as a yawn.

And then you’re laughing.

“Not yet,” Luigi says. You nod in agreement.

“Good,” says Galli. “I live close to here, on Sternegg. I have better liquor for you. Will you join me?”

Neither of you could possibly imagine finding better liquor than what’s at Neubad, and you have no idea where or what Sternegg is—but Galli is a local, and clearly a smart one. Should you trust a man you met not even ten minutes ago, after he stares at you for ninety minutes straight while serenading a room full of strangers with a cat-faced bagpipe? All signs point to...Plots, and they can’t be good. 

Galli, though…He doesn’t feel like a red flag. He’s an open door, a side quest, a detour. He has this way about him, and you know that Luigi can feel it too; you noticed it the moment he came to sit next to the two of you, the moment he started speaking in that eloquent Lucerne dialect. And besides—if anything were to go sour, Luigi could fold this twinkish fellow in half faster than Galli can say “figg di!”. You aren’t expecting disaster, though. Galli feels trustworthy. Galli feels like a friend.

Reaching beside you from under the bar, you squeeze Luigi’s thigh, your silent question heavy as water in the air.

He looks to you, a soft flush still painting his face, and nods.

“That sounds like a good plan, Galli,” you say. “How do we get to Sternegg?”

Sternegg, as it turns out, is simply a street just a few minutes out from Neubad, one that contains rows of homes not too similar and not too different; a cozy little suburb. Although Galli’s place seems small, it’s hiding a universe of eclecticism and adventure. One thing you notice right off the bat is that Galli is a bit of a maximalist—actually, a bit would be a disrespectful understatement. His walls are lined with framed artwork and souvenirs and hanging crosses (not in a “lowkey concerning/maybe paranoid” way; these crosses are carefully crafted and clearly hold both a spiritual and aesthetic significance). His cabinets are styled like framed paintings of winged cherubs, and atop them sits a collection of items: different styles of lamps, unlit candles, Godzilla encased in a glass display jar, sculpted bears wearing hiking gear. You find several instruments—namely a keyboard, a tie dye patterned cello, and a banjo. Just the living room alone is a collection of mementos from Galli’s clearly audacious existence, a museum of artistic wonder and space ripe for creation.

Happily, Galli leads you to the kitchen, a much more subtly fashioned room complete with decorative displays of fruit, moody lighting, and ceramic figures of a boy and girl dressed in traditional Alpine garb. It turns out, upon your inspection, that they are cookie jars; the tops of their heads screw off in an uncanny but charming manner, leaving the twins essentially scalped. You personally love the vibe. Nothing says “welcome to my kitchen!” like scalped people-shaped cookie jars.

Luigi is still busy kicking his shoes off by the time Galli is greeting you with a trio of glasses and what looks to be a bottle of red wine.

“This always impresses my guests,” he says, “so I do hope you two enjoy it.”

You take a closer look at the label: Racconti, by an indeed impressive sounding Cantina Mendrisio. 

“Sounds Italian,” you suggest.

“Did somebody say Italian?”

Luigi is now in the kitchen with you.

As Galli begins to pour the three of you a glass of Racconti, he smirks to himself. “It is Italian wine, yes. From Ticino.”

“Ticino?” you and Luigi repeat in unison.

Galli giggles, screws back on the top of the bottle. “An Italian region here in Switzerland, my friends. It is where we Swiss make our finest wine.”

He raises his glass, as if to make a toast, and you and Luigi mirror him.

“Ready?” Galli asks. “After me: Broscht!”

“Broscht!” you both repeat, clinking your glasses against Galli’s. After your cheers the three of you collectively sip, giggling back-and-forth.

“Alright,” Galli says, “come with me.”

At his word, the two of you follow Galli out of the kitchen and through the narrow hallways into his bedroom, full glasses in hand.

If what you’ve already seen wasn’t excellently elegant enough, Galli’s bedroom is nothing if not a suitable challenger. The atmosphere is a mix of grandma’s house and 70’s hippie pit, a melting pot of velvet surroundings and uniquely shaped rugs and well-fed houseplants—there are dainty wooden wardrobes with patterned slacks hanging from the doorknobs, multicolored throw pillows, IKEA boxes of records settled next to a truly jaw-dropping audio setup. But the centerpiece, of course, is Galli’s circle-shaped bed, perfectly plush and cradled by a golden frame; you instantly make a beeline for it, careful not to slosh your fancy Italian wine onto the rose-colored cushion.

The first thing Galli does upon entering does not surprise you. He walks right over to his collection of music and starts digging through the cache; he pulls out a record—Addio Alexandra—and skips to the second track, which lights up on his stereo’s display: “Ménage á trois”. 

Luigi takes his time looking around, while Galli focuses his attention on a small box on his nightstand.

“How do we feel about a smoke?” he asks, glancing up to gauge your reactions.

You sip your wine. Look toward Luigi.

Galli clarifies; in his hand is a grinder, making the kind of “smoke” in question more clear. The both of you nod.

“Excuse me,” he says, ushering over to the balcony door. 

As soon as you can feel the wind blowing into the room, you smell it: Galli is growing some dank shit on his balcony. You watch as he collects the bud from his plant and looks it over, returning back to the bed with a smile. 

You look at Luigi again. He’s still touring the room, eyes darting about like he’s in search of something.

“Do you read much, Galli?” he asks. He faces the bed, now, one hand perched on his hip. 

Ah. That’s what he was looking for.

As Galli stuffs some bud into his grinder and begins to twist, he shrugs. “I read sheet music. Not much more.”

“Luigi reads a lot,” you say. He nods in agreement, making his way toward the bed. 

“Yes?” Galli smiles, now carefully switching the flower to a thin rolling paper. “What else does Luigi do?”

Right then something clicks between the two of them that makes your brain short circuit and overload all at once—Galli’s eyes meet his, a quick but conspicuous glance, and Luigi blushes. He blushes and he smiles, his canine catching on his lip as he looks away with a low chuckle.

What the fuck was that?

“I’m pretty active,” Luigi says. “I’ve been really into running lately…Um, I dunno, baby, what else do I do?”

He looks to you now, face settled, as if that little hiccup just a moment ago was nothing but a bump in the night. It puzzles you that he can’t find much else to say about himself.

You sip your wine. “He can make a mean baked ziti.”

Galli giggles jovially, sealing the joint with a lick down one end of the paper. His eyebrows are raised with what must be surprise.

“A fellow Italian?” he asks, looking directly at Luigi.

“I kinda thought my name gave it away,” says Luigi, smirking shyly.

Befuddled, you murmur, “I thought you were Swiss?”

“Both!” Galli clarifies. “My parents are Italian-born—they moved to Lucerne when my mother was pregnant.”

“So you’re Swiss Italian.”

“I guess the mustache makes it pretty obvious, now that I look at it,” Luigi says. 

And he’s right; Galli slips the spliff between his lips and strokes his signature well-manicured mustache with both hands, using the tips of his fingers to twist the dull ends. Luigi laughs through a sip of his wine, and you join him, still slightly piqued at his boyish, seemingly charmed attitude towards Galli.

“I’ll be right back,” Galli says. “I left my lighter in the kitchen…”

The lean man is already up and about, turning down the hallway to retrieve it. The joint is still in his mouth.

You nudge Luigi’s bent knee with your foot.

“What?” he asks, face adorably peeved.

“What’s up with you and Galli?” you ask.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re acting weird,” you say, finishing what’s left of your drink. “You’re all blushy and…Weird.”

“I’m not blushy,” he shoots back, hushed, as if Galli is listening through the walls with his wine glass. “I don’t understand what you mean. I’m not being weird.”

“You are,” you rebut. “Do you like him?”

“What?”

“Do you like Galli?”

Luigi blinks. Sips. His hand is trembling, just slightly.

“I mean—I’m—I don’t know,” he stammers, looking away from you. “Do I like him? What does that mean?”

“You just seem, like…” you try to explain, struggling with the words as they escape, half-formed, from your mouth. “You seem enamored with him. I don’t know. You’d have to see it from my eyes.”

A beat passes as Luigi, too, finishes his wine. He sets his glass on his thigh and narrows his thick brows at you, eyes focused.

“What are you implying?” he pokes.

You don’t answer. Galli is returning, now holding a neon pink long-reach lighter in his hand. 

“Sorry, friends!” he says, attaining his seat on the bed. “I couldn’t find the right one, so we have to make this work.”

You stifle your laughter as Galli struggles to find a proper angle to light the joint—but he makes it work, taking a puff and retrieving the bottle of Racconti from his nightstand. As he pours the both of you a second glass, careful not to spill any on the bed, his lithe fingers pass the spliff to you, one sparkling green eye winking.

“Ladies first,” he jokes.

You giggle. Take a hit, sip from your glass. You feel as if you’re living a proper European life, sitting on this lavish bed drinking gourmet wine and smoking a Swiss Italian man’s weed with your boyfriend. Exhaling slowly, you hand the spliff to Luigi—and when he takes it from you, his fingers brush against yours in a way that feels delicate, purposeful. But then, he looks to Galli once more; his eyes flicker over with a hint of something you can’t identify, glancing back at the eccentric man who now leans against a mountain of pillows, watching the two of you with a grin that’s impossible to interpret.

Luigi coughs just once when he takes a toke. You decide to spare him the embarrassment of even acknowledging it.

“How long have you been growing, Galli?” you ask.

“Ahh…” he begins wistfully, taking the joint from Luigi. “It started in university. At first it was just an experiment, but then…I don’t know. I fell deeply in love with it. I like to watch beautiful things flourish.”

He’s not looking at the plants.

“University?” Luigi pipes in. “What’d you study?”

As you take your hit, Galli responds, “actually, try to guess.”

“Art history?” Luigi offers.

“Mortuary science,” you suggest.

Galli shakes his head, guffawing. And after a sip of wine, he provides: “Astrobiology.”

You look at Luigi. He is looking back at you.

“Astro…biology?” you repeat.

“It is exactly what it sounds like,” Galli adds. “The study of life in the universe.”

“Like…aliens?”

Luigi is laughing.

“I know, I know,” Galli says, his blunt teeth perfectly white beneath his lips. “You didn’t know that existed before I told you about it…But it’s real! And we didn’t just study…errr, ‘aliens’. We studied the origins of life and learned about early evolution. It is a very astounding discipline.”

Luigi nods, still smiling, but fascinated nonetheless. “No, I agree. That’s really cool. So why aren’t you, like, at NASA now?”

“That’s the thing,” Galli says. “I went into college not knowing what to do with myself. I settled on astrobiology because…It sounded cool. But then I met my friends, my bandmates, and I realized…What I wanted was to create, not to study creation.”

You smile, softened. “That’s profound, Galli.”

By now Luigi has the joint again. When he passes it to Galli, the Swiss devil himself asks, “what about you two? University?”

“Oh, yes,” you say. “Both of us. But Luigi especially.”

Luigi shrugs you off, but he knows just what to say next. “I went to the University of Pennsylvania.”

“University of Pennsylvania!” Galli repeats with pride. “That is a very prestigious school, no?”

You nod. “Very.”

“What did you study?” he asks, eyebrows raised in beguilement.

“Computer science,” Luigi answers.

“Very good!” Galli exclaims, taking a hit. “The only technology I understand is music. I am envious of your brain.”

“Wanna trade?” 

Galli has a laugh that lingers in your eardrums. It’s crisp and vivid, like watercolor on fresh paper, imprinted in the very electricity of your nervous system. You wonder if even the alcohol won’t let you forget it.

“You don’t like it?” he inquires, handing you the spliff.

“I do,” Luigi says. “I like code. I like to unravel things. Sometimes it just feels limiting.”

“Such is the way of life,” you murmur, smoke curling from the edges of your lips. 

Their eyes are on you. Both of them. Looking with scheme glistening behind their irises, faces blissfully relaxed. You pass the joint to Luigi; when he takes it, he strokes his fingers against yours once more—this time far more obvious, less hesitant. 

Something reeks of possibility.

You aren’t sure what shifted. Maybe it’s the alcohol you’re still drinking, or the pot you’re still smoking, both excessively European in strength—but a keen intuition tells you that this is something more than intoxicated tension. It’s raw and tugging at the edges of your connection. It’s fierce, screaming like a banshee underneath the shiny overlay of innocent fun. You ponder if either of them can feel it, too. You ponder how to swim through the ambiguous expectancy.

And, frankly, you aren’t sure how long the three of you sit talking back-and-forth, sharing the joint until it’s a roach and drinking until the room starts to feel a little too toasty. You aren’t sure of all the things that you discuss amongst yourselves. What you know for certain is the one question Luigi asks that flips the night on its head:

“Why did you invite us, Galli?”

Propped up against the high-backed, pillow-stacked headboard, your host—your new friend—smiles toothily at the both of you, mossy eyes shimmering.

“You two interested me,” he responds. “I like good company.”

And then, whether it’s the wine, the weed, or your own blatant disregard for manners, you pave the cement that forms the road of the night:

“You thought we were hot.”

Galli blinks.

Luigi delivers a gentle but firm slap to your arm, uttering your name in a scolding tone.

Galli laughs.

“You are not wrong,” he says. “But I didn’t want to…err, embarrass myself. Or frighten my guests, of course.”

You wish you could capture Luigi’s expression on camera. The subtle but palpable changes in his face are perhaps the most suitable highlight of the affair.

“We aren’t frightened,” you murmur, hand gliding up Luigi’s thigh. You squeeze him—promptly, but reassuringly. You turn to him. “Are we?”

He looks at you, looks you in the eyes, for the first proper time tonight. His face relaxes. His heart does, too.

He turns to Galli. “We aren’t,” he clarifies, voice soft, uncertain, still welcoming. “But what kind of company were you looking for?”

“You like to unravel things, Luigi,” Galli proposes, setting his wine glass on the nightstand. He leans forward. “Perhaps the three of us could unravel together. Would you all like that? With me?”

This time, you and Luigi don’t look at each other. 

You nod. Without thought, you nod. 

“We’ve never—” Luigi then adds, but he swallows the rest of his sentence quickly. Retries. “Uh, we don’t have…Much experience with this kind of thing.”

“That’s quite alright,” Galli says. “None needed.”

“Do you do this kind of thing often?” you ask. “Bring drunk tourist couples to your bedroom?”

He shakes his head, flippant. “Not really,” he answers. “I do not come across the opportunity often. Well…I do, but, err, I do not always like the candidates, I suppose.”

“But you like us?” Luigi interjects.

Galli nods. Smiles. “Yes. I do. Do you like me?”

“Yes,” you affirm.

Luigi nods in agreement, then parts his lips to mutter: “I’ve never been with another guy before.”

At this, Galli chuckles. “That’s also alright,” he assures Luigi, eyes gentle. “Would you like to be? Tonight?”

You look to him. He isn’t looking at you, but he’s clearly thinking.

Or perhaps he isn’t. He answers quickly:

“I mean…Why not try it?” Luigi responds, the leftovers of a smile creeping into his lips. “When in Lucerne, right?”

He means it to be funny, but none of you laugh. The fierce wails of your bond are far too loud to respond appropriately. You squeeze his thigh again, much like you did at Neubad, where you first met Galli. There are a few curious glances passed between the three of you. Then:

“Well, uh…How do you normally go about…Starting?” Luigi asks.

The Swiss devil next to the both of you is as nonchalant as ever, gently smirking as he speaks. “What would you two like?”

“I have an idea,” you blurt.

The boys turn to you in an instant. 

“Well, go on,” Galli goads, eyes wide and inquisitive.

Luigi’s hand presses against your back, rubbing encouragingly.

You smile. “I shouldn’t say…”

“You should,” Luigi suggests.

“Would it feel better if you whispered it to Luigi, and he relayed it back to me?” Galli offers, leaning in.

You consider. Nod. Galli beams. 

“Alright, then,” he says, relaxing back against the headboard once more. “No need to be shy.”

Palm pressed into Galli’s plush mattress, you lean over to whisper to Luigi, making a show of it by cupping your hand around where your lips nearly meet his ear. Galli watches closely with amusement.

Luigi’s eyebrows quirk as the syllables leave you. He turns to you, grinning.

“Is that what you want?” he asks.

You nod, blushing madly.

“Well, what?” Galli chimes in.

At that, Luigi speaks: “She wants to watch me suck you off.”

There is a glimmer of something adventurous in Galli’s eyes as he leans forward. “Is that so?” 

When he glances over at you, you nod again.

Galli smiles at Luigi. “Your lady is a firecracker.”

Your boyfriend flushes a little at that, laughing softly, dimples accentuated. 

“Well,” Galli says, “since we have a newcomer here…” 

He looks to Luigi, who lowers his head bashfully.

Galli continues: “I think we could use some warming up, yes?”

His slender hand begins to creep up Luigi’s thigh, enticing and suggestive—until Luigi crashes his lips into Galli’s, coaxing a noise of pleasant surprise from the leaner man. It’s a messy kiss: long strokes of tongue and the slick of spit, and you almost can’t believe your eyes, can’t believe that you’re really watching your boyfriend come to terms with something neither of you expected to confront this evening, or ever, for that matter. Your eyes widen with excitement as you watch Galli’s thin fingers tangle into Luigi’s curls, their mouths moving without any hint of hesitation or uncertainty. Leaning back against the headboard with a slight smile, you brush your fingers back-and-forth over your nipple through your cami, thoroughly enjoying the sight in front of you and the sounds that their kisses produce.

They go at this for a while, much longer than you anticipate; it’s just you easing into the moment with the slightest touch as you watch your boyfriend kiss another man, sloppy and unheeded, Galli licking into Luigi’s mouth with intent and drawing moans from the broader man that make you feel dizzy. When Galli parts Luigi’s lips with his tongue Luigi takes the opportunity to nibble at Galli, pulling back just a little, and Galli groans, smoothing his hand down Luigi’s shoulder blades. You start to think this night couldn’t get any more unpredictable.

As Luigi pulls away to catch some air their lips are still connected with saliva. Galli turns to you, notices your hand teasing yourself. 

“Liking the view?” he asks playfully.

“Oh, yes,” you nod. “Don’t mind me. Just gettin’ comfortable.”

You can see Luigi smiling sheepishly at that—a sweet little smile that slowly fades as he kisses Galli again, this time reaching forward to grip his waist. With the weed and the wine on top you’re starting to feel all fuzzy just watching them make out, Luigi’s brows furrowed in concentration as Galli slips his hand under your boyfriend’s shirt. God. Not in a million years would you have guessed that watching a folk music show at a cultural center would lead to you and your boyfriend in bed with another man, no less this specific man—but you’d be delusional to complain. The sight in front of you is something straight from porno. Galli moans when Luigi begins to kiss down the slender expanse of his pale neck, leaving wet marks and teases of teeth in his wake. At this point you decide to pull your shirt up and over your head, something that the boys are far too busy to notice, because they, too, are starting to strip; before you can blink Luigi is helping Galli out of his plaid-print vest and thin undershirt, their mouths wet and swollen with passion, lips pink and thoroughly used. Galli’s fingers trace the light freckles underneath Luigi’s eyes and you watch as fire ignites behind his statuesque face.

Glancing over to you briefly, they continue, leaving you to work the silk of your skirt down your legs. Galli’s slender hands reach for the hem of Luigi’s tee, lifting, revealing taut abs and perky nipples. Clearly you and Galli are of one mind—the Swiss man is quick to pinch at Luigi’s chest, eliciting a moan of surprise from your boyfriend. Luigi retaliates; he pushes Galli down onto his back and slots himself between the man’s legs, meeting his mouth with a bruising kiss and fumbling with his own belt buckle. You watch closely and begin to tease yourself through your panties as Luigi steps out of his khakis, earning a gasp from Galli.

“Gopfertelli,” he mumbles, eyes trained on the clearly pronounced tent in Luigi’s navy briefs.

Much of what Galli says in his native language sounds like gibberish to you—but this time it makes complete sense. 

Intimidation. Thirst. Shock. You can’t blame him.

As you’re rolling your underwear down your hips your boyfriend’s big hands meet the waistband of Galli’s corduroy pants, pulling them off swiftly along with his (unsurprisingly plaid) boxers. His cock springs free; Galli is slim, a bit skinny, and just the right size—not too big, not too small. Coincidentally quite perfect for a first-timer like Luigi, who seems subtly pleased with the sight in front of him; he leans forward and grasps Galli in his hand, pumping softly, hesitantly.

“I’ve never done this,” Luigi says, “so don’t expect much.”

Galli laughs, caresses his curly head. “Give me your best.” 

It’s fun to watch Luigi navigate a new situation. It’s just as fun to watch a proudly straight man take a cock in his fist and bring his mouth to the tip, tongue peeking out to lick tentatively at the slick slit. Galli brushes his fingers through Luigi’s hair and rests his head back, moaning softly as the larger man adjusts on his knees to slather more of his tongue over Galli’s cockhead. Holy shit. You’re really watching this. You have to resist the urge to pinch yourself, to ground yourself in any way, to convince yourself that this isn’t too sexy to be true.

As Luigi begins to ease the tip of Galli’s cock between his lips, you sneak a hand between your thighs, circling two fingers over your pulsing clit and watching intently as Luigi slowly strokes what he doesn’t have in his mouth. 

“Cazzo,” Galli whimpers. “That’s wonderful, Luigi.”

Luigi’s cheeks blossom pink at that, the same pretty shade of pink that you find on his full lips, and you slip a finger through your slick folds as he begins to properly suck on Galli’s length; your boyfriend widens his jaw to fit more into his mouth, those very same lips you adore kissing so much wrapped tight around the girth of him with only the smallest sign of struggle. When he pulls his head back Galli tugs at his curls, and Luigi moans, sending a delightful shock of vibration through Galli’s cockhead. You swear you can feel it in your clit. Your fingers glide lower, collecting your arousal and spreading it over your cunt, your movements obscenely obvious to the boys—but they hardly pay you any mind, with Luigi only looking in your direction momentarily before returning to the task at hand. Something about his concentration pumps you full of libido, shakes you to your core. Your boyfriend looks so good with a dick in his mouth.

Swirling your fingers over your erect clit once more, you can’t help but moan when Luigi manages to take more of Galli’s length, slowly but surely working every inch into his mouth. Your high washes over you in little waves of electricity as you watch Galli buck his hips, clawing at Luigi’s scalp and whispering Italian prayers to the heavens. His voice is like molasses in his throat; thick and whiny, so desperate, waging a war against itself. His dainty eyelashes flutter and he crooks his neck to look down at your boyfriend sucking him off, meeting his stone gaze. Galli’s cock bulges against Luigi’s cheek, his glans meeting pure smooth skin and mucosa, and Galli grips the edge of the bed, his chest heaving with each breath.

“Luigi,” he moans. Your two fingers are building a steady rhythm over your clit already, your thighs twitching with the beacons of pleasure that begin to cement in your body. 

Luigi licks his cockhead, presses his tongue into the crest of Galli’s slit. “Am I doing alright?” 

Chuckling, Galli caresses Luigi’s cheek. “It’s perfect,” he says. “Don’t stop.”

So Luigi doesn’t, and neither do you, teasing your entrance with your fingertips as Luigi takes Galli’s dick back into his mouth, using his large hand to spread his saliva down the length of it. His wrist tenses against his Fitbit when he squeezes the shaft, eyelids much more relaxed than when he started, like he’s slowly getting used to the tempo of it. Things are getting quite wet for you—well, more wet than you were already, anyway. Your fingers glisten and audibly slide together when you pull them away from your cunt; you angle your palm against your clit as you gently glide your middle finger inside yourself.

Things are getting quite wet for the boys, too. Luigi’s spit is making a mess of Galli’s cock, spilling from his lips and trickling down every inch. You wonder just how much he’s enjoying himself.

“God, fuck,” Galli murmurs, head lolling in your direction. “You like watching, Ängeli?” 

You nod, bottom lip trapped between your teeth. “He looks so perfect.”

“Yes,” he agrees, and Luigi raises his eyes, curious; Galli traces the slope of his wide nose and strokes the back of his head, further encouraging Luigi to lathe his tongue over Galli’s tip with vigor. “Such a darling little mouth. You are a lucky woman.”

Luigi groans at that, loud and rumbly in his chest. You curl your finger. 

The bedroom only feels hotter now, even with the breeze blowing through the open balcony door, and all you can do is spread your legs further and ease another finger into your cunt, giving the two men in front of you as much of a show as they can manage to watch in their current positions. Luigi works his hand down Galli’s girth and swirls his pointed pink tongue over Galli’s cockhead in this gentle, coy sort of way, his mouth loud and wet with slobber. The way your boyfriend’s lips curl and loosen around Galli’s dick is so intentional, so vivid, almost hypnotizing—when your fingertips press into your G-spot you moan aloud and the both of them join you, like a symphony of collective pleasure bouncing off the plaster walls. The trio of you make music in ways you wouldn’t have envisioned even with Galli’s stellar Italian wine. 

And when Luigi lowers his head as far as he can go, gagging as Galli breaches his throat, you and Galli keen in unison.

“Mio dio, non posso—” the man squeaks, gripping tight at Luigi’s curls, now damp with sweat. “Luigi, wait, please. I don’t want to come yet.”

So Luigi halts, lips pressed together, cheeks flushed—awfully puppy-like. You’ve seen the same face between your own thighs more times than you can count. 

Galli laughs. 

“Shit,” he sighs happily. “What a treat.”

Luigi smirks, and the heat of a thousand suns sparks a flame beneath his pupils. “Yeah? Was I alright?”

“More than,” Galli assures him. “Come here.”

They kiss again. This time it’s different, a little softer, more relaxed. Galli rests his hand on Luigi’s pec as he drags his lips over your boyfriend’s mouth, moaning against him, and Luigi’s blush is so bright that you think he might burst to pieces right here.

The ceiling seems to spin when you pull your hand away from your legs and shift to your knees, crawling over to the boys where they lay at the end of the bed. And predictably, when that curly head of hair spots you approaching, he instantly lurches toward you, in search of your lips, too.

But you’re curious. As Galli moves to take your previous spot at the headboard, you skim your hand over the fine hairs of Luigi’s happy trail, slipping beneath the waistband of his underwear to find…

Luigi is unspeakably hard in your palm. He’s straining against his boxer briefs, his cockhead engorged and clearly visible underneath the fabric. When you give him a gentle squeeze he dips his head into the crook of your neck and groans divinely, teeth grazing your bare shoulder. 

Yeah. You knew you were onto something.

“Did you enjoy that, Luigi?” you ask sweetly, tilting Luigi’s head up to meet his gaze. “You like blowing Galli?”

Those bambi eyes beam, both meek and undeniably obvious. “Yeah,” he mumbles, nodding. When he kisses you Galli moans deliciously.

“Did you like watching?” Luigi asks.

“Mhmm,” you hum. “I loved it. You’re really hot when you’re sucking dick.”

He smiles a little at that, grazing his nose against yours. “Who knew?”

From the headboard, Galli speaks: “Do you two mind if I watch now?”

You look over to the smaller man, grinning. “Whatcha gonna do, Galli?”

He smiles back at you. “I have an idea,” he says, the lilt of his voice mischievous.

“Yeah?”

“Do tell,” Luigi chimes in.

Galli’s face brims with wickedness. “I’m going to get myself ready so your boyfriend can fuck my ass while I fuck you.”

Luigi flushes, and you smirk devilishly. Turning to him, you ask, “would you like that, babe?”

He cheeses like the cat that got the cream. 

“I’m not opposed,” he says. “But I’ve never, uh…”

“He’s never fucked a dude,” you explain, looking back to Galli.

The Swiss man laughs cheerfully, opening a drawer of his nightstand to retrieve something. “Are you nervous, Lui?”

Luigi shrugs, still blushing madly. “A little, I guess. This is all pretty new for me. For us.”

You nod in agreement, squeezing his shoulder.

“Would playing with your lady make you more at ease?” Galli asks, now revealing what he’s grabbed from the nightstand: a bottle of lube.

Fleetingly, Luigi glances at you and smiles. “Yeah. I’d like that. Would you like watching?”

Galli nods. “Very much.”

You and Luigi have never had an audience before, obviously—so it feels a little awkward as he guides you to lay back on the bed, slotting himself between your legs and looking wistfully at your equally flushed face. You’ve never seen him more exposed. You love the way it looks on him.

And then he speaks: “Have you ever eaten pussy, Galli?”

You gasp as Luigi dips his fingers into your arousal, glancing over at Galli as the lean man slicks his own with lube. 

“Unfortunately, no,” Galli replies. “I’ve never gotten the chance.”

“It’s a treat,” Luigi murmurs, mirroring Galli’s language. “A real treat with this one.”

“Is that right?” 

Galli spreads his legs, links an arm under his knee and brings his wet fingers to his asshole. Luigi is leaning down, now, planting kisses to your forehead, the tip of your nose, your throat, between your tits; and you feel like you’re floating atop a cloud of pixie dust and your wildest dreams as he inches lower and lower, closer to your weeping cunt, where you’ve been aching for someone’s touch far longer than you have the brainpower to vocalize.

“She tastes like il miele più dolce,” he says, spreading the folds of your pussy with two fingers, teasing the hard nub of your clit with his thumb. “When I touch her here she sings for me.”

Laying back, Galli smirks. “Would you let me hear her symphony?”

Luigi doesn’t answer. He parts your thighs, shifting to flop onto his stomach and insert his face between them. Two slender fingers spread you once more; and then he licks, one long lick up from the opening of your cunt to your clit, his lips wrapping around you when he’s tasted all you have to offer with one stroke of his magic tongue. You shudder and moan and twist your fingers into his bouncy, damp curls, writhing against the rosy cushion as Luigi licks and sucks to his heart’s content.

Galli groans feverishly—you glance over, find him already working one lengthy finger inside of him, watching the both of you with admiration spilling from his nude lips. For a moment, one never ending, blissful moment, you lock eyes. His green irises and Luigi’s hot, wet tongue is all you know for an hour or so and it’s more intoxicating than any drug you’ve consumed tonight; it’s euphoric, liberating, so soft and so like home. You’ve never been happier. 

“Beautiful,” the Swiss man hums, toes curling into his plush bed. “She truly does sing.”

Luigi looks up at you from between your legs, long lashes fluttering like butterfly wings against your skin, chocolate eyes hazy with the sharpest lust. You shudder. The vulnerability of it all, of putting yourself and your boyfriend on display for a man you met today, riddles your body with gooseflesh in an instant—it’s as if Galli is an artist and the both of you his muses, acting in the nude for him to bring to life with every stroke of his brush. As Luigi slathers his tongue over your clitoral hood and through your delicate folds, Galli stretches himself further, sliding another finger into his ass and arching into his own touch. 

And then Luigi pulls away.

His mouth and stubble are sheen with your arousal, shameless proof of the night glistening on his face. He doesn’t bother to wipe his lips. He simply looks towards Galli, hands still holding your thighs apart, and mumbles huskily, “you like watching my girl, Galli?”

“I do,” Galli affirms, cock twitching. “Both of you. Such heavenly creatures.”

Luigi groans, diving back into you without hesitation, this time pressing his tongue against your hole oh so gently. Your legs shoot up with joy—and your heart stutters when he guides your thighs toward you, pushing them into your stomach to allow him better coverage. With the half-mind you still have left, you try to remember that the balcony door is open, that the entire city of Lucerne could hear you if you aren’t mindful of your volume; and alas, you cry out to the shimmering lake, to the Kapellbrücke, to the peaks of Pilatus and Rigi—you cry out to every Swiss and their brother that these men, these two men in this bed with you, have brought you to a level of pleasure so surreal and ethereal you’re terrified of your own capacity to withstand it. 

Moving his head back-and-forth against you, Luigi quickens his pace, licking at you faster and with more intensity than before; it’s now you realize that the stereo is still playing, the mellow soundwaves of slow Italian jazz jumping off the walls and flowing in the ground underneath, trilling through your fingers as they grip and pull at Luigi’s hair. It is a uniquely Mediterranean experience: a breeze whistles into the room, harmonizing with the soundtrack, all while two of the most gorgeous men you’ve laid eyes on sit naked and profoundly preoccupied with you. The world feels acceptably small. You begin to wonder if a threesome was all you needed to unlock the secrets of the universe.

Galli’s dick bobs with each thrust of his slick fingers, his pale mouth open and panting as his eyes focus in on Luigi’s ministrations between your legs. His eyes flit, encapsulated in enjoyment. He is a perfect picture of male beauty, of quiet, subtle aura. You nearly bite your tongue when he guides a third finger into his ass.

“Make her come, Luigi,” he says—you cannot decide if it’s an order or a plea. “Make her come for you.”

If there’s anything Luigi is good at, it’s exactly that. Tensing his shoulders, he brings his dexterous fingers to your entrance, gliding one, then two inside of your pussy with ease as he continues lapping at your clit. 

Galli grunts. “Perfäkt.”

Both men’s fingers move with surgical precision, each motivated by their own desires—and yet, they thrust in sync, like an orchestra of sin. It’s the most melodius sound you’ve ever heard.

“Fuck—” you whine, gasping. The collective noises and sensations of the boys exerting themselves punches the air from your lungs, leaves you shaky and gasping. “I’m, oh, oh, fuck…”

“Getting close?” Galli grins, jaw clenching.

You nod helplessly. Luigi moans as your claws sink into his scalp.

He curls his fingertips into your G-spot, pressing up into your most precious pearl effortlessly even with the distraction of Galli fingering himself—and that’s all it takes, really, because you aren’t sure if your body and let alone your mind could handle anything more. Sparks fly inside your bones as you come hard against Luigi’s mouth, howling like the wind and uttering a slur of curses with each pulse of your orgasm. He spectates with curious, proud eyes, hand still working you through the hills and peaks of your climax.

“My baby,” he murmurs, voice barely audible—but you hear him, even through your heaving breaths. “The prettiest girl.”

As he comes to meet your lips Galli turns back to the nightstand, digging through a drawer with his tongue cutely peeking out from between his lips. Luigi kisses you. Sweetly, generously; almost reassuringly. As if to check in on you. 

You cup his face in your hands, noses grazing. 

“I’m okay,” you whisper. “I’m really good. Are you?”

He nods, flushed and dazed—you almost think he’s never looked prettier. But he doesn’t answer you, not with words; he kisses you again, like only you and him exist, tugging on your lip as he pulls away.

“Cheib,” Galli spits from the headboard.

Both of you turn. “What’s wrong, Galli?” you ask.

For the first time tonight the Swiss man looks a little sheepish, like he’s miscalculated something: “I don’t have a rubber,” he admits, scratching his neck. “Err…It has been a while. Do either of you have one, perhaps?”

You look to Luigi. 

He frowns. “I wasn’t exactly expecting to be invited to a threesome while we were out. I’m sorry.”

Galli laughs at that, but the concern does not disentangle itself from his thin eyebrows.

“But…” Luigi starts again, glancing at you hesitantly. “We’re, um, both clean. Right?”

He’s looking at you. You clear your throat.

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding. “That’s right.”

“But we understand if you want to stop,” Luigi adds. 

Galli is quick to shake his head. “I…I think I am alright with that. If the both of you are.”

You nod in unison with Luigi.

“Then…” Galli peers behind himself suggestively, his smile creeping onto his face slowly. “Shall we?”

Luigi smiles coyly. “How is this gonna work?”

At that Galli leans forward, into Luigi, cupping his jaw and connecting their lips with hesitant desire. You watch as Luigi reciprocates; he sighs against Galli’s mouth, hands tentatively gripping the slimmer man’s waist, and the contrast between the span of Luigi’s fingers and the small curves of Galli’s hips has your chest feeling heavy and your cunt beating. When Luigi pulls away, he turns to you—the switch from Galli’s lips to yours feels a little awkward, clunky, but Galli’s mouth teases the crook of your neck as Luigi kisses you stupid and all you can think about is how giddy you feel right now.

You never knew that three people could somehow kiss at once. But by the grace of Gott you, Galli, and Luigi pass each other around with all the effort your high, wine drunk, sex-muddled minds can manage; you almost take turns, with Galli kissing Luigi, Luigi kissing you, and you kissing Galli time after time again. The streets of Lucerne must be empty by now. Compared to your surroundings back home, it’s much quieter, more subdued—you suppose the noise regulations must have something to do with that. All you hear is the occasional eerie call of a stray barn owl and the smacking of wet lips, the pure evidence of attraction playing out right in front of you. You could do this forever, you think.

And then Galli reaches for your arm, guiding you toward the headboard and pressing gently against your stomach.

“Lie down,” he directs. 

So you do, laying flat onto your back as Galli makes his way between your legs. Then, he reaches for Luigi, furls his fingers around your boyfriend’s thick bicep and guides him to join the line-up Galli has formed. 

It’s a train. Essentially.

Galli smiles with pride. “Wonderful. How is this for everyone?”

Luigi hums, and you nod, glancing back at the two men kneeling behind you. Galli is already stroking himself and Luigi’s face is overtaken with shyness, a quiet vulnerability, something boyish and sort of innocent. 

Reaching back to squeeze Luigi’s thigh, Galli murmurs, “I’m ready when you are, dolce amore.”

You don’t see much of what happens next—but you certainly hear it.

Galli hisses as Luigi presses inside of his ass, every inch an internal battle—and Luigi keens, loud and whiny, desperate in his throat. 

“Oh my god,” he gasps. “Oh, fuck, ‘s so tight, fuck…”

And then Galli’s cock is fucking you, swiftly and without much precision, his whimpering ringing in your ears as Luigi begins to drag his hips back-and-forth. 

Your boyfriend sounds like he’s falling apart. 

His face is hidden behind Galli’s shoulder blade, pumping mindlessly and rocking Galli forward and further into you. The voice that leaves him is wrecked, broken and put together again, an amalgamation of disbelief and awe and almost certainly ecstasy. As Galli starts to find his pace you reach around, groping his ass, feeling Luigi’s fuzzy thighs meet your fingers with each relentless snap of his hips. Both men groan deeply when you spread Galli’s asscheeks to the best of your abilities.

“Fuck!” Luigi grunts, pitch higher—you can hear each slap of his balls against Galli’s ass as he thrusts. “Feels so fuckin’ good, oh my god…”

You part your legs as wide as they can go and brush your toes against Luigi’s arms, desperate for any touch in your somewhat distanced positions; he smooths his hand down your calf, over the bottom of your foot, squeezing lightly. Galli is quick to pinch and tug at your pert nipples when you arch your back and bury your head into the mattress. The three of you move with the grace of synchronized swimmers and the improvisation of amateur porn, sloppy and unpracticed and so free, so consonant. You never want it to end.

Galli is murmuring under his breath, a haze of Italian swears and Swiss German pleas—his thumb rubs furiously at your clit, determined to please you. You tug at his sweaty, frazzled locks, pulling tight at the nape of his neck, and his hips stutter—and so you do it again, and again, and again, until he’s dragging his swollen lips down your throat and leaving heady purple and red bruises in their wake. Luigi grips the leaner man’s ass, fingernails pinching at pale, smooth skin, and Galli groans into your chest.

“You fuck me so good, Luigi,” Galli praises. “Così grande.”

Luigi grunts at that, teeth pinning down his bottom lip. 

You reach for his hand. Your fingers interlock, gripping fiercely, and Galli breaks just a little more: “Chöntisch,” he pleads, “chöntisch, please, please let me come…”

“Yeah?” Luigi teases. “You’re coming already?”

You brush the hair away from Galli’s forehead as he whimpers in confirmation, mouth hanging heavy with pants and gasps of exertion and enjoyment.

Growling, Luigi mutters, “I’m gonna come too. Your ass is so fucking tight.”

Your cunt squeezes Galli’s cock and he’s quick to pull out, stroking himself over your belly as Luigi continues to pound away at his ass. You replace his fingers on your cunt with your own and his orgasm leaves him in quick, thick spurts and full-body shudders, his once glorious voice unraveled and completely broken. You can only imagine the sensations Luigi must be experiencing; but you can certainly watch his reaction in real time, high definition, his face twisting and jaw tensing as he comes, filling Galli’s asshole.

“Fuck,” Luigi croaks. “Fuck.”

Their combined vocalizations quickly bring you to the edge, your throat creaking as you cry out. Luigi, still holding your hand, strokes his fingers over Galli’s slender hip, curling around his thigh. 

“Isn’t she perfect?” your boyfriend asks him, resting his head on Galli’s shoulder as both watch you come undone in front of them.

“Yes,” Galli agrees, smirking. “Il miele più dolce.”

For a few moments they just stay there, watching you come down, eyes curious and admiring; Galli’s eyelids are heavy with exhaustion, lashes fluttering with each blink, and Luigi looks no different than the many nights you’ve spent in post-coital bliss together, all relaxed hearts and Jello limbs. Your eyes focus in on the pool of sperm on your stomach—fresh trails of Galli left in his passion. Smiling, you use two fingers to scoop up the remains.

“Want a taste?” you ask, looking at Luigi. 

He flushes.

Galli laughs, raising a hand to stroke your boyfriend’s curls. “When in Lucerne, right?” he echoes, almost purring.

Slowly, Luigi leans forward to take your covered fingers into his mouth—he locks eyes with you, all pupils as he sucks and licks away, much like he did earlier with Galli’s dick. You spot no discomfort in his sculpted face. 

“Sweet,” he says simply when he pulls away. “You vegetarian?”

“Vegan,” Galli clarifies.

You could’ve guessed that. Luigi shrugs, face accepting.

And then you giggle. You giggle, and both men do too, collectively basking in your after sex glow, the gentle shifts of your face and voice. The bed feels invisible beneath you and all you can hear is the smooth breeze and their soft laughter, a harmony of pride and warmth and indulgence; mellowed arousal and drunkenness feel weighty in your bones, suddenly very aware of your desire for sleep. It’s peaceful. Silent. Everlasting, like a tight hug.

“Thank you, boys,” you sigh. “Thank you.”

As you cup both of their faces in your hands, they smile in tandem.

The train hums as it crawls up the steep mountain, abundant grassy hills and the occasional cow sweeping past the windows in a steady stream of image, color, and light. The sky is extraordinarily bright today; not a single cloud floats in sight, a clear and bouncy blue splayed atop the universe. A baby babbles to its mother in the booth behind you, much to the mother’s amusement. You smile at the sun. 

From beside you, Luigi squeezes your thigh.

You peel off your headphones. “Hm?”

“…I got something on my mind,” he says quietly. His book is shut against his lap. Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy.

“What’s up?”

He clears his throat, adjusting in his seat. Like he’s nervous.

You brush your hand over his shoulder. “You can tell me anything, honey.”

“What happened the other night, with Galli,” he starts, “…did that, like…Mean anything?”

“What do you mean?” you ask, brows furrowed.

He sighs. “If I slept with a dude, does that…Make me bi?”

Oh. Oh. This poor thing.

You snort. “It doesn’t make you anything, Luigi. It just means you had a threesome.”

“A threesome with a guy.”

“Yeah,” you nod. “So?”

He blinks, as if the very prospect that his sexuality is trivial never crossed his mind.

“I mean…” he trails off, flicking the edge of his softcover back-and-forth. “Aren’t people who sleep with men and women bisexual?”

“Sometimes,” you say. “If they feel that way. Do you feel like you’re bisexual, Luigi?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Fingers fiddling with the curls at the front of his head, you offer him a gentle smile. “You don’t have to know, baby. It’s okay. Labels are stupid, anyway.”

“I mean—” he stutters, flustered. “I just know that…That I liked it. I liked what we did with Galli. What does that make me?”

You trail your hand downward, grazing his bicep, then interlocking your fingers with his.

“It makes you a man who had a threesome and enjoyed it,” you say.

“…That’s all?”

“Is that all you want it to be?”

He doesn’t answer. You caress his hand.

“You’re overthinking it,” you murmur, lips close to his ear. “There’s nothing ‘wrong’ with you, babe. Bi or not. I love you for the man you are, not for who you want to stick your dick in.”

He chuckles at that, squeezing you back. His head starts to loll against your shoulder.

“Okay,” he concedes. “Whatever you say.”

You grin. Kiss his hair. And as he rests his head against you, the thrum of the train slowly pulls you deep into a well-needed nap.

merci vilmal = “thanks a lot”

mega fein = “delicious/very tasty”

figg di! = “fuck you!”

broscht! = “cheers!”

gopfertelli = “god damn me”

cazzo = “fuck”

Ängeli = “little angel”

mio dio, non posso = “my god, i can’t”

il miele più dolce = “the sweetest honey”

perfäkt = “perfect” (i think…hard to find resources on swiss german☹️)

cheib = basically “darn” or “damn”

Gott = “God”

dolce amore = “sweet love”

così grande = “so big”

chöntisch = “please”

[cute-ellyna]

I’ll tell you what I like the most about this. Other than the mirror sex itself which is always an excellent idea, I mean ;D

Under the cut cause I wrote too much XD

I drew this almost all on instinct. I’ve been drawing people for almost 3 decades guys now, but I still feel kinda insecure about myself. I rarely move without finding references first (pictures or 3D models for poses) to guide me through anatomy, cause I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep up my personal minimum level of quality anatomically speaking. I’m often so afraid that more often than not I don’t even try to “freely draw” without a guide.

This means though that I’m quite tied to whatever I find/model, and I don’t like this.

So at the beginning of this year I gave myself a goal: to slowly move away from that and start being more free in what I draw. To trust my abilities better, to just let go.

And I’m doing it. Not always, but I did it here. AND LOOK AT IT, LOOK AT WHAT I ACHIEVED. Someone in the tags commented that this was so well sculpted and that I really understand how plains work. All from inside my head, no references on the light. ME??? So all those anatomy training on my sideblog worked!! *_* I’m so proud, I’m patting myself on the shoulder guys XD

I’m finding that some of my favorite drawings or comic panels are actually the ones I let myself draw without closely follow a reference. And mind me, there’s nothing wrong in having references, in fact they are essential BUT I am/was using them like a cage and it was so wrong.

So this is my proof to me that, heck, I did learned something through the years, it’s all in my head, and I should just let it happen and not being afraid to draw.

I feel like I’ve been riding a bike with training wheels, afraid I couldn’t go without. But I actually can, and it’s obviously so much better.

The magic doesn’t always happen I’ll be honest. I often just can’t draw some poses. I still often fall back to bad habits. But hey one step at a time :)

"Don't close your eyes."

*cough* and how could she?

[bluemoonscape]

This ALNST Friday’s comic adds so much more context and depth to Mizi’s breakdown in Round 5.

You know this guy? The guy we all collectively hate now?

First thing I noticed about him is that he looks quite a bit like Luka, though his hair is a touch darker and his eyelashes are black rather than blond.

The unnamed boy in the comic messes with Mizi’s head, blaming her for making people love her, for making people attracted to her—and this translates to Mizi blaming herself for this as Till lies dying in her arms. The ghost of her past self taunts her: You knew what you were doing all along, didn’t you? You led them on just to save yourself. You led everyone on.

The encounter with this boy in the comic is the catalyst for setting off this guilt, shame, and self-loathing within Mizi. As an audience, we’ve all been fooled right along with the other characters around her into believing she’s always been naïve, blind to the way the world works run by segyein. Mizi hasn’t had enough time to tell us how she feels. There hasn’t been a right time. In Round 1, she’s singing with Sua, for Sua, so who is she thinking about? Sua. In Round 5, she’s fresh off the trauma of Sua’s death and being actively pushed closer to her death by Luka. During her time with Hyuna, everything is too fast-paced to give her time to stop and tell us how all this has affected her, or how it always has. Mizi couldn’t tell us these things, so we instead saw her through Till, Sua, and Ivan’s eyes in the videos and official side content as a beautiful and innocent girl whose facade charms them all in one way or another. The sad thing is that Mizi didn’t mean to build this facade. She never meant to hurt anyone. She built it because it’s what people needed her to be.

So we have Round 5, and Sua is dead, Mizi is alive, and it’s all her fault, because she charmed Sua right into self-sacrifice. She lost the one person whose love she could return, genuinely and without reservations. And not only does Luka mimic Sua to throw Mizi off her game, but he manipulates her through touch.

The boy in the comic told Mizi all those years ago that boys and girls can’t be friends, that they’ll only end up “mating” and it’s Mizi, the girl’s, fault. It’s her fault that people are attracted to her. She knows what she’s doing. She knows what she does to them. Doesn’t she?

In Round 5 she’s set up purposefully in a performance that, as Vivimeng stated, is meant to look like a wedding. White clothes, romantic music, a boy touching her and dancing her around the stage like a trophy. Like the boy in the comic said, right? It’ll always be a boy and a girl. They’ll always end up together. It benefits the segyein to force them together because that means more future contestants.

They killed the love of her life and now they’re forcing her with a man who’s touching her and asserting control over her.

She snaps.

Of course she snaps.

The expectation of heterosexuality even in this futuristic society is so interesting to me. Mizi experiences it plainly in this comic, and I would say Till experiences it since he claims the main reason he likes Mizi is because she’s “pretty” and then struggles so intensely with denial with Ivan. Again, I believe it’s because encouraging heterosexuality as the norm encourages “mating” and the creation of more humans to exploit and parade around. It gives the segyein more control.

That play of compulsory heterosexuality in Round 5 contributed heavily to Mizi’s crashout.

(Tagging some Alien Stage moots!! @ivanttakethis @rockwgooglyeyes @alien-til-i-stage @awaggaa @verdantlights love you guys <33)

[cosmiquenotes]

Accidental night stand???

𝙲𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚋 𝚡 𝙵𝚎𝚖!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

(Name), an aspiring researcher in the Farspace Fleet, gets her life in a mess when she accidentally sleeps with her boss.

word count: 2.5k

⋆˚࿔ in honor of Caleb's birthday, i come delivering this fun series/smau

if you want to be tagged in upcoming chapters, feel free to send an ask!!

divider credits: @/cafekitsune

Prologue

‘Wake up, coffee, work, argue with your boss, work, argue with your boss, go home

What an exciting routine. It is certainly a routine anyone would love yknow.’

Surely you would think my boss will somehow see my point of view and accept any research proposal and take me to one of the fleet’s trips? Nope. He lives to torment me.

If there is anyone I want to dropkick into the ocean right now, it would be my boss.

The Farspace Fleet Colonel.’

(Name) sighed, closing her diary and threw herself on the bed.

Another work day, another proposal denied.

(Name) is a very well-known character in the fleet, a genius in anything related to wanderers and protocores. She published a lot of papers that helped Akso Hospital in their research regarding Protocore Syndrome. She is someone who loves her work with a huge passion, and her dream was to work in the Farspace Fleet research center since this place will give her access to anything new that comes from Deepspace.

(Name) was one of the people who secretly investigated Lucius and exposed all his illegal research with Ever and that investigation caused Lucius to be thrown in jail and for ever to suffer a critical loss in finances and support from the public, causing them to hide away and losing their control over Skyhaven, with the city now under the full control of the Farspace Fleet.

She has worked for 5 whole years in the fleet, with her experience and achievements, everyone at the fleet trust her deeply when it comes to exploring Deepspace, she went on several trips with the fleet and with her medications and research, the fleet was able to deal with injuries and any encounters with mutated wanderers.

Well. That was until the fleet got a new colonel.

The new Farspace Fleet Colonel is like a wall made of iron, he is unapproachable, always serious despite everything in Skyhaven has settled down after Ever left. He is also the person who is giving (Name) a hard time at work. Every request she submits to join the fleet for a trip to Deepspace gets rejected, despite her backing it up with her evol abilities, reports about previous trips and recommendations from several high ranking fleet officers.

She tried everything, and she gets back a rejected request. The only good thing she ever received from him is a gala to celebrate her latest research on the new mutated wanderers that started appearing in the city.

“This is ridiculous. Who does he think he is huh? I know far more than he does when it comes to wanderers, I went on several trips with the fleet and came out unharmed and even the soldiers were unharmed, so why does he keep refusing me!” (Name) screamed into her pillow.

Well, luckily tomorrow is the weekend so she has time to think about how to approach him again and more importantly, unwind from this hectic week and meet her friends in Linkon.

“Everytime I send in a request to join the fleet and give him the reason why backed up with scientific research and even recommendations from several people, he rejects it. And you know what’s even worse? He keeps saying I will distract the fleet. Can you guys believe this?” (Name) huffed, taking a sip from her iced coffee.

“Isn’t your evol like, pretty strong on its own? Plus it is very useful too.” Yvonne replied, taking a bite from her cake, “You always help out the injured when a wanderer attack happens in the city. Plant manipulation is no joke girl.”

“Maybe show him what your evol can do if that is what he is worried about.” Xavier commented, taking a sip from his coffee. (Name) sighed and shook her head at his comment.

“I told him multiple times to see my evol in battle, but the only reply I get is ‘I’m busy’.” She replied, earning a chuckle from her purple haired friend.

“It’s like the old colonel told him to make your life a living hell or something.” Rafayel chuckled, earning a glare from (Name).

“This is not the time for jokes.” Yvonne said, clapping her hands together, “(Name), did you pick out a dress already? The party is tomorrow.”

“Well…. I went to the shop Rafayel recommended and got one already.” She replied, earning a grin from the artist.

“See, girl I told you, never doubt an artist. I’ll also do your makeup and make you look stunning.” He replied, (Name) smiled at him and nodded.

“Alright, thanks Raf.”

“Don’t try to drink too much alcohol though. The last thing you want is the alcohol giving you the courage to yell at the colonel in front of everyone.” Xavier warned, drinking from his coffee cup.

“Don’t worry. I won’t drink that much anyway.” (Name) replied with a grin.

“I fear you will regret those words later sis.” Xavier muttered, taking a bite from his cake.

The day continued with the group going around the mall and picking out accessories for (Name) to wear along with her dress.

Soon, the day of the party arrived, and for a party hosted by the Fleet, it was very elegant and filled with soldiers and officers from the Fleet.

(Name) hung around her colleagues from the research department, they are the only people she considered as friends in her workplace.

“Attention everyone.” The cold voice got everyone's attention to the front of the room.

There stood the Farspace Fleet Colonel. Tailored suit and cap elegantly placed on his head, sharp purple eyes scanning the entire hall as he had one hand behind his back and a hand holding the microphone to his lips.

He had a dangerous aura around him, an aura of dominance that gets every woman to fall for him. He's got everything, the looks, the authority, the money. Any woman would dream of a man like Caleb to look her way.

‘Delusional idiots. All these women throwing heart eyes at this man don't know his true nature. He is nothing but a self-centered peabrain who doesn't understand my value as a researcher and just how strong I am on the battlefield. He is a sadist who lives off my tor-’

“All of our great achievements would have never happened without the work of Fleet's research department. We are gathered here to celebrate the latest publication that helped the fleet in uncovering more secrets about Deepspace. Let's all give a round of applause for (Name).” His voice snapped the young researcher from her thoughts, smiling softly as everyone clapped their hands.

She approached the front of the room with her head held high and a haughty smile on her lips, she took the colonel’s outstretched hand and then turned to the crowd.

“Thank you. In my years serving the Fleet, I learn new things and use my years of education and experience to help out against attacks from wanderers in order to keep humanity safe from the dangers of Deepspace. Please enjoy the party.” (Name) finished off her speech and walked back to her friends as everyone clapped for her.

“Here’s to the Fleet’s pride and joy.” The department head said, handing her a glass of wine.

‘I know Xavier warned me about alcohol but it's just one glass.’ (Name) thought, grabbing the glass and drinking from it.

As the night passed, one glass became two, which became several.

“I- I need to step out for fresh air.” (Name) excused herself, taking her tipsy mind to one of the balconies to clear her head.

“Damn it…. I didn't want to be drunk today. What if I ran into that stupid colonel and proceed to yell at him for pissing me off?” The researcher muttered, resting her arms on the railing and looking down at the scenery below her.

“That's the first time I heard someone call the colonel stupid.”

“Well. He is. And he is too stubborn too. He rejected my requests 20 times. Can you believe that? 20. And his only excuse is that I’m not strong. He clearly didn't see my evol in battle.” She replied, turning around to look at the mysterious stranger who was willing to listen to her rant about her boss.

“Not to mention he never addresses me as Dr. (Name)! I did not spend my entire life doing research and getting a doctorate just for some guy to-”

“Sorry about that, I can see it now if you want to.”

Oh. Oh no.

(Name) felt the color drain from her face as her tipsy mind is trying to comprehend the fact that the mystery man is none other than the colonel himself.

“Y-You! Th-That was the alcohol I'm sorry.”

“It's alright.” He chuckled, grabbing her hand softly and leading her to a chair to sit on.

“Have some water first.” He said, handing her a glass of water which she quietly accepted and drank it.

“Well Dr (Name), you okay now?” He said with a smirk, making the researcher blush and look away.

“I'm good. Sorry for troubling you Colonel.”

“It's alright. So, about that demonstration…”

She raised her cup and smashed it on the floor, she then picked up a glass shard and made a cut on her hand.

The colonel watched as she summoned plants from the ground that quickly healed her wound, making it look as if she never got hurt in the first place.

“Not only that, but I can also heal any injuries from poisons, and also restore any limb if my evol was amplified. I can also poison wanderers and weaken them significantly. I am useful in battle, and you can ask anyone in the fleet, but you are just too stubborn.”

“Stubborn?”

“And prideful too. Just because you are the colonel doesn't mean you are above everyone else yknow. I for one know a lot about the fleet that you don't know about.”

“Like what?” He asked, placing his jacket on her shoulders when she shivered from the cold.

“I know where we hide the good coffee, I also know the best place in Skyhaven to get a nice warm bowl of noodles, and where to find the secret stash of snacks.” She said, getting up from the chair.

“And I won't tell you where they are. Since you are annoying.” She ended her speech with a huff, turning around and walking towards the exit.

After a few steps she stumbled and a pair of arms held her before she fell. She looked up and looked into the eyes of the colonel.

“Your eyes…. they are pretty. Like grapes.”

“Grapes?” He chuckled, leading her towards the elevators. “That's a first.”

“No one told you that before? That makes me special, a way to remember me.” She paused, turning to look at him.

“You drank too.”

“A bit. That's why we both need to leave and rest in our respective rooms.” He replied, entering the elevator and pressing the button to his room.

“Oh, I'm on the same floor too.” She giggled, leaning against him.

The colonel leaned back against the wall as she leaned on his arm.

“Are you treating me nicely today because it's my party? Or is it because you're tipsy like me?” She mumbled, looking up at the man next to her.

“I got used to treating everyone at the Fleet like that.”

“Oh. Did they try to kill you?” She asked, moving to stand in front of him and hold onto his shirt.

“How did you know?” His voice dropped, eyes gone cold quickly. (Name) quickly shook her head.

“People tried to kill me too. But after Ever got exposed and they had to hide, everything calmed down.” She mumbled, looking up at him.

“I keep my guard up anyway, if anyone tries to kill me they will get injected with poison.” This earned a chuckle from the colonel as he looked down at her.

The rest of the elevator ride was silent, when it reached the floor, neither of them moved from their positions.

“Well… Thanks.” (Name) said, pulling away from the tension and running down the corridor to her room.

“Wait!” A voice called out for her as the colonel caught up to her.

“I still have something to say.” He said, grabbing her arm and pulling her to him.

“Sorry…. for my attitude.” He said softly, cheeks dusted pink as he looked into her eyes.

‘Is he for real? Or is that the alcohol speaking right now?’ She thought, staring up into his eyes.

“Are you seducing me right now? Because it is working.” She replied, leaning up as he leaned down, resting his forehead against hers.

The sound of approaching footsteps jolted the two away from each other. The colonel quickly grabbed her hand and entered his room.

“Why is your room next to mine? Did you plan this?” (Name) asked when the door was shut behind her.

“Don’t know.”

“Colonel…. We can't do this yknow. You hate me, and I can't stand you. That is just the alcohol.” (Name) said, stopping herself from touching the man infront of her and turned around.

Before she could open the door, his hand slammed against it. His other hand held her shoulder softly.

“Are you sure about this?”

The night escalated, from thoughts and dreams of dropkicking the colonel into the ocean, to drinking with her friends, and finally sleeping with said colonel she wanted to dropkick into the ocean.

The night was wild, he was wild. He ate her out on the table then took her on the couch, with another round in his bedroom.

The sun’s rays hit the sleeping couple, causing the researcher to stir awake. As she tried getting up from the bed, a weight around her waist stopped her.

‘Wait. That is not my room, why are my clothes on the floor, and why is the colonel’s jacket on my dress- wait. THE COLONEL’S JACKET?’

(Name) slowly turned her head to look down at the figure sleeping next to her.

Dark hair, dog tag necklace, sharp jawline, his jacket on the floor.

‘Fuck. FUCK.’

As quietly as she can, (Name) wore her dress, grabbed her stuff and snuck out of the room.

As soon as she was out, she ran back to her room and checked out of the hotel as fast as she can.

Once safely in a taxi, she pulled out her phone to text her friends.

- - -

The Colonel stirred in his sleep, sitting up slowly as he opened his eyes.

His eyes narrowed when he saw the bed empty next to him and her clothes nowhere to be found. All that is left in the bedroom are his clothes folded neatly on a chair.

With a smirk, he got up and approached his neatly folded clothes.

"Fine. You can't run away from me in Skyhaven anyway." He mumbled with a chuckle.

Looks like work will get entertaining now.

[cupiid-777]

𝐂𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐢 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬 (𝐂𝐚𝐥𝟐𝟐) - The virus in my post apocalyptic dr

Physical symptoms (before major infection): Muscle spasms, muscle cramps, skin sore outbreak, vomiting, fatigue & temperature fluctuation, a burning sensation in the skin, dulling of all senses. Psychological symptoms (before major infection): Confusion, despair, paranoia, irritability, visual hallucinations and loss of facial recognition.

Calculi Comosis from an evolved species of Ophiocordyceps unilateralis. This species takes control of a patients muscles, and driven to it's need to survive, makes said host eat and spread the virus to other living creatures. It is spread through fluids such as blood or saliva, and we have recently discovered that it is rapidly contagious if any fluid from an infected patient enters another. Often these symptoms may cause young people and senior citizens to pass away before the infection can fully spread due to a rapid overwhelm of one's immune system. From what our research can decifer this virus causes full loss of control over ones muscles and severe slowing of the heart rate. The virus creates and destroys blood cells continuously within the host. It is essential to note the infected seem to be fully conscious (See test subject 8 & 12) However they seem to follow in the ways of the victims ophiocordyceps unilateralis, their physical bodies controlled fully by the infection. So far, we have discovered two varients:

Chriekithuene varient (C1V) Physical symptoms: Seemingly unable to speak, uncontrollable hunger, seem to be relearning how to use their bodies, partial or full loss of sight, enhanced sense of smell, seizures, loss of brain functionality, and apparent enhanced form of muscle paralysis, severe internal bleeding.

Psycological symptoms: Unable to aquire information at this point.

Hypochrynkeite varient (H2V) Physical Symptoms: All symptoms of C1V, Decay in the skin, full loss of sight, hightened hearing, burning in the light, severe enhancement of speed, hunters, highly sensitive flesh.

Psychological symptoms: Extremely aggressive. AVOID AT ALL COSTS.

Currently, there is no known cure for Cal22

So I was gonna just do a normal intro for this dr... but then i found THIS from my notes 2 years ago.

NO this was not based of The Last of Us. I hadn't watched it at the time, we had learned about Ophiocordyceps unilateralis (that fungus that controls ants and small animals in the wilderness) in class and i thought it was fucking awesome and wrote a little story. Then realised it was already a thing in tlou. sorry for yapping, this still upsets me /lh

For the JT Circus Event!

Tags ;; @kazuyas-gallerymwah , @jolyne777 , @girlberrie , @zippy-zaparoni , @joc3lynn , @behold-the-sun , @lyuovr , @softbabyskin , @antionettiesjourney , @nothyeri , @harrys-only-angel333 , @marialazer , @etrnvlr , @h1biscusgal , @theshifterbride , @soapyfairie , @a1sft

[INTERACT HERE TO BE ADDED TO MY TAG LIST]

sorry for spamming my tag list guys

[rkiveslibrary]

Chapter 1

Summary: You finally achieved your dream of writing and publishing a book and it goes well. It goes so well, your publisher wants you to write a second book. The only problem is the fans want it to be spicier and you have only had one very lackluster sexual partner in your life. Enter Kim Taehyung the cocky fuckboy of your past who is willing to lend a hand to a “friend” in need

Word Count: 4.5K

Paring: Taehyung/Reader (Side Jikook)

Rating: 18+

Tags: teasing, use of nicknames, POV switch, Taehyung's behavour is kinda gross in this one sorry, flirting. (Not much to tag because it's the first chapter)

Authors Note: I started this story in March and the fact that it is finally being posted is making me kind of emotional! LOL. As always thank you for reading!

-----

“Hi, welcome to The Oasis. What can I get…you?”

Your voice trails off as you see the couple standing in the doorway, taking in the small café with its warm brown tones and earthy greens.

Your eyes fall on the man with the dark, fluffy hair, and you recognize him immediately.

Your hands curl into fists at your side, blunt nails digging into the skin as you wish you could evaporate on the spot.

Cocky fuckboy, past captain of the soccer team, Kim Taehyung, and his flavour-of-the-week girlfriend just stepped foot into your workplace, and you had no choice but to serve them because you promised to take over for Morena, who needed to take an important phone call.

This must have been a cruel twist of fate, a punishment for something, because normally, you didn’t work the front counter.

You were much more comfortable in the back, rolling out dough and singing along to songs from the small old-school radio Mi-Suk graciously provided to give you something to listen to while you worked.

Every once in a while, you would choose to listen to music on your phone, opting for songs from your high school and university years that would throw you into a comforting wave of nostalgia.

The man in front of you was a very unwelcome wave of nostalgia, and when his dark eyes finally connected with yours from across the store, they widened in shock for only a brief moment before he was sliding up to the counter with a cocky smile on his face and his girl in tow.

You had not seen him in almost three years, but he still looked the same. Fluffy brown hair that was always a little messy in an endearing way, deep brown eyes, a small freckle on his nose, a wide, boxy smile, and pouty lips that got him out of a lot of trouble.

People tended to bend over backwards for Kim Taehyung, and it infuriated you to no end.

He was just a guy. Sure, he was handsome, but that didn’t give him superpowers or make him important.

But throughout your university years, you watched countless girls fall over themselves just at the mere presence of him walking around.

It was annoying.

“Well, hello. I didn’t know you still worked here.” He said in a smooth baritone voice that reminded you of old jazz music.

“Yeah, I do, though usually I work in the back. So what can I get you?” You ask, trying to get this interaction over as quickly as possible.

Taehyung’s eyes sparkle with mischief, and you know he isn’t going to let that happen.

Lovely.

“Come on, BabyBlue, work with me here. I haven’t seen you in ages, and that’s all you give me.” He croons with a pout on his lips that makes you roll your eyes.

In the back of your mind, you knew you shouldn’t roll your eyes at customers, but you figured someone as infuriating as Taehyung was the exception.

“Don’t call me that ridiculous name, Taehyung.” You bite out as he grins at the furious look on your face.

You thought he would have grown up in the years since you graduated, but it seemed he still was the same pain in the ass as he was back then.

“Oh, sorry BabyBlue, I didn’t know you hated that name. My bad.” He teased in a sarcastically sweet tone as his eyes flicked down to your chest.

That nickname was all his fault anyway.

Taehyung was drunk at a house party and tried to peel you from your very comfortable spot leaning against the wall to dance with him, only to accidentally wobble on his feet and spill his drink all over your favourite baby blue cropped shirt, which was very thin and very see-through, meaning in a matter of minutes everyone in your vicinity could see your nipples poking through the damp fabric.

Taehyung never once apologized; instead, he said, “Oops,” with a boxy grin, and you had to leave the party early before the stain could set in.

While everyone moved on, Taehyung adopted the nickname BabyBlue for you to commemorate that night.

“You know I hate it, Captain.” You shot back as his eyes widened in surprise, but a grin was still plastered on his lips.

You knew you wouldn’t wound him with that name.

Especially since he was the one to come up with that himself.

“Um, do you two have a history or something?” The girl next to him asks as you finally tear your gaze away from his dark eyes and focus on her.

She is shorter than Taehyung, with long curly hair and full lips, which are frowning as she looks between the two of you.

You look at Taehyung to explain, but he seems to be enjoying the chaos as he leans against the counter and doesn’t bother answering her.

What a great guy.

“Yeah, we went to university together a couple of years back. Took the same program. Had the same classes.” You explain.

Her eyes narrow, and you can practically see the gears in her head turning.

“Nothing happened between us, believe me. We just ran in the same circles, unfortunately.” You continue.

The only reason you were stuck with Taehyung as long as you were was because your best friend Mira had to go and fall in love with Taehyung’s friend Hoseok, which made you all a big happy group.

You couldn’t hate Mira for it though; she found the love of her life, and Hoseok was a great guy. He popped the question last year, and Mira accepted. They were getting married in four months, which felt crazy to you because you still remember Mira as the small girl with braids in her hair who offered you half of her snacks at recess one day.

“You mean, fortunately. I’m a delight to have around.” He boasts as the girl next to him giggles and loops her arm around him, snuggling into his shoulder, pleased you were not an ex-girlfriend.

“I wouldn’t call it that. But sure.” You respond.

“Ouch, you wound me. And here I was thinking we were friends. Besties even.” He croons with an exaggerated wink, and you can’t help it as your eyes roll up to the ceiling once more.

“We aren’t besties; you just pretended we were so you could cheat off me in class.” You reminded him.

“And yet you never once let me cheat. So rude you know. It’s always nice to help a friend in need.” He shoots back, enjoying this.

“We were never friends, Taehyung; we just ran in the same circles.”

He frowns.

“Is this because of the Baby Blue incident? I said I was sorry.”

You scoff.

“No Taehyung, you never did apologize for that one.”

His eyes widen.

“Well, you did look hot in that shirt. So hot, I just wanted to cool you down.” He recovers quickly, shooting you a playful smile.

The girl next to him huffs, and you cross your arms over your chest.

“Kinda gross to be talking to me like that when your girlfriend is right next to you.” You point out as he finally looks down at her and back at you, like he forgot she was even there.

“Oh, she’s not my girlfriend. We just fuck. A lot.”

She playfully smacks his arm and scolds him, as you feel heat rise to your cheeks.

“Anyway, what can I get you?” You say falsely bright, trying to change the subject, as you press the screen in front of you to get it to wake up.

“Can I get a latte macchiato with extra foam?” She says as you smile and punch it into the computer.

“And you?” You ask Taehyung, who is still blatantly staring at you.

“What is good here?” He asks, drumming his long fingers against the counter, seemingly more than okay with wasting your time.

“Everything. Now please, just order.” You almost pleaded.

“You never answered my question.” He quips as you fight the urge to strangle him.

Why can’t he just make your life easy and order something so you can move on and hopefully not see him again?

Or at least not see him until Mira’s wedding.

“You never answered mine either. What. Can. I. Get. You.”

Taehyung finally seems to accept you won’t give him any more information as he straightens up and finally takes a peek at the menu.

About freaking time.

“I’ll take a green tea and whatever dessert you think is best.” He orders with a smile.

“All desserts are the best; I’d know; I make them.” You respond before punching in his order.

His eyebrows shoot up.

“Impressive, BabyBlue,” he teases as his eyes scan the desert case to the right.

You don’t bother to answer him; instead, you turn your back and begin to make the drinks, focusing on deep breaths and not letting him get to you. He won’t ruin today. You won’t let him.

However, it seems the girl next to him isn’t having it, as the second you turn around, she begins to argue with him under her breath.

“What the fuck was that Taehyung?” She hisses as you work on the drinks and try your best to focus on the soft music overhead and not their conversation.

“What do you mean babe?” He asks as you see out of the corner of your eye her slip out of his embrace and cross her arms.

“You were flirting with her. Openly flirting with her in front of me.” She hisses under her breath.

“Baby, I was not. That’s just how she and I talk. We banter,” he explains as you finish making her drink and decide to leave it on the back counter while you work on his. You don’t want to be in the middle of this.

“Calling her some stupid nickname? Calling her hot? Openly eyeing her up and down. You just fucked me half an hour ago, and you already have sights on another girl. What is wrong with you?!” She says, unable to keep her voice down, so you hear everything.

“Baby, all you and I do is fuck. That’s the point of fuck buddies. I wasn’t flirting with her, but I’m also a free man.” He defends putting his hands up.

She promptly loses it, and honestly, you don’t blame her.

“You are disgusting, Kim Taehyung! I thought you would grow up and mature, and want to settle down. And here you are drooling over some minimum wage-making barista.” She shouts as her gaze whips over to you.

“Syd, I already told you when this started, I wasn’t looking for anything serious. We went over this, and you were okay with the arrangement.” He reminds her.

You are caught between them like a deer in the headlights, unable to move as you turn around and watch it all go down right in front of you.

“You are twenty-seven for fuck's sake, and you don’t act a day over seventeen! There clearly is some unresolved chemistry or some shit going on between the two of you, and I deserve better than to be tied up in it. Have a nice life Tae. Don’t bother calling me for pussy when you get bored of her.” She snaps as she turns on her heel and storms out of the café, slamming the door on the way out, making the wall décor shake.

The silence that follows is so loud you almost wonder if Taehyung could hear your heart beating under your shirt and apron.

“Are you going to…go after her?” You ask meekly as he turns away from the door and once again leans up against the counter, putting on his cool-guy persona.

“Nah, I don’t chase after women. I laid it out very clearly for her, and she thought she could change me. Don’t need to be running after that.” He responds as he runs a hand through his fluffy hair.

“I don’t know what to say here. Sorry? I guess?” You stammer as Taehyung shoots you a grin.

“Nah, don’t worry about it. The last week or so she had been getting clingy, and I was going to talk to her about it anyway. She saved me from an awkward conversation, so that’s good.”

“Um, okay. So the drinks. Uh….” You trail off, not knowing what to say.

“You never answered my question from before, you know.” He reminded, and all the tension in the room seemed to evaporate as he put on his charming smile and fluttered his eyelashes at you.

“Which one? You asked so many I lost track.” You asked him as you brought both drinks to the front counter.

“The one about you working here. You were top of our class, the smartest person I know, and yet you work here. Nothing against people who do. I have high respect for retail and food workers. I just… Don’t get it.” He explains as you push his drink towards him and pick out a chocolate chip muffin from the case.

“When I graduated, I knew I wanted to be an author, but those things take time. So I asked the owner, Mi-Suk, if I could work full-time while I write. Well, it’s been years, and I have a book published now, but I like working here. I like baking, so I decided to keep it as my main source of income while I write.” You say to him as you place the muffin in a small brown box and close the lid to keep it fresh.

You weren’t sure why you were telling Taehyung all this. Maybe you felt bad that he had just gotten broken up with. Maybe you knew telling him the truth would finally get him to shut up.

All you knew was this was one of the first times you actually had a conversation with him, a real one without teasing and being at each other’s throats, and it was…well. Nice

“You wrote a book? What’s it called?” He asked, clearly impressed, as you wiped your hands on your apron.

“Why? You want to leave me a bad review. Payback for not helping you in university?” You tease as he grins and runs a hand through his hair once more.

“Nah, I want to know what genre you ended up picking. You were undecided back then.”

You are taken by surprise that he even remembers that. You weren’t necessarily close in university. He spent all his time trying to mooch answers off you, and you spent most of your time trying to pretend he didn’t exist.

“Uh, it’s called The Tangled Web of Love and Friendship… I ended up going with romance.” You say nervously.

Before Taehyung can respond, Morena bursts through the back door and immediately apologizes about how the doctor's call was not supposed to take that long and how they lost her files, so they had to put her on hold for an extra ten minutes to find them.

She is talking so fast and in such a hurry that she doesn’t notice Taehyung standing there.

Until she does.

“Oh. Um. Hi.” She says, her demeanour immediately changing as she smooths a hand down her apron and tucks her long hair behind her ears in a shy kind of way.

“Hi. How much do I owe?” He asks, turning back to you as Morena is staring at him in the way most women stare at Taehyung.

Starstruck.

“I’ll pay for both drinks; don’t worry about it.” He says as you ring him through.

He takes both drinks and his muffin and shoots Morena a small, polite smile before turning to you.

“Good to see you again, BabyBlue. And, uh, sorry about the shirt.” He says with a wink before turning around and exiting the cafe.

You watch him go and aren’t sure how to feel. Sure, he was still incredibly cocky and arrogant, but that small civil talk you had was…nice.

“Okay, tell me everything. That man is so hot, I just about melted to the floor. How do you know him?” Morena squeals as she jogs behind the counter to stand next to you, eyes full of excitement.

“It’s just Taehyung. We went to school together.” You say, moving behind her to let her take her spot at cash.

“Is he single? He’s so hot. Wait, are you interested? I don’t want to overstep if you are.” She chirps excitedly.

“I’m not interested; believe me. He’s all yours.” You say as you start to head back to the kitchen, already putting the interaction with Taehyung behind you.

-----

Taehyung stretched his arms over his head and groaned when he felt a pop in his back.

He knew he should have painted at his easel in his spare room, but the light in here was too perfect to miss out on, so he shoved his blankets off his bed and set down a towel before sitting cross-legged and getting to work on painting the dazzling sunset in front of him.

Painting was a way for him to calm down after a long day or to silence all of the thoughts that were buzzing around his head, and he was forever grateful that his mother introduced him to it at a young age.

While his father was all about working hard and being a rough and tough man, his mother let him explore his softer side through photography and painting.

Taehyung found a healthy balance between them, though his softer side often pulled more ladies.

What lady can resist a soft, kind, artistic soul?

Taehyung fumbled around for his phone and saw he had sixteen unread messages in his group chat with his friends, so he stood up, collected his things, and cleaned his room.

He knew if he opened the chat, he would get lost in it for hours, so he took a quick shower before even touching his phone.

The hot spray felt great against his skin, and he tilted his head back and let the warm water trickle down his scalp as he lathered his shampoo.

Taehyung took his time in the shower, letting his fingers dance along his skin and letting the water relax his tense muscles from being hunched over a canvas for the last two hours.

His cock began to harden, but he didn’t bother jerking off. He already had sex twice today with a girl he would never have sex with again, and he didn’t feel the need to touch his cock and get himself all riled up.

Instead, he tugged it a couple of times, then let the warm water wash away his body wash as he turned off the tap and stepped out of the shower, towel-drying his hair as he went.

He completed his skincare fully naked to let his body air dry, then he pulled on a pair of soft grey sweatpants; he didn’t bother with a shirt because half the time he slept only in boxers or completely naked anyway.

He turned off most of the lights around his home and settled into the warmth of his bed, pulling the covers back on and scooping up his phone to see what he missed in chat.

Jungkook and Jimin were sending pictures and raving about the getaway they just came back from.

They went to a cabin in the woods for five days, and even though they kept sending pictures of the wildlife, Taehyung knew they got away to fuck like rabbits in a secluded cabin where no one could hear them.

Those two were some of the horniest men Taehyung had ever met.

Jimin and Taehyung grew up together and became instant best friends. While everyone thought Taehyung was Jimin’s platonic soulmate, there was no doubt that Jungkook was Jimin’s romantic soulmate.

They met on the first day of university and have been inseparable ever since.

Hoseok rounded out the group chat.

Smiley, Funny, Sunshine in human form. Hoseok, whom Taehyung met through Jimin, got along so well with everyone that he became a permanent fixture in their group.

He was a year older and often seen as the go-to person for advice, as he was always open and ready to listen.

Hoseok met Mira near the end of their first year and started dating her.

Mira had it all. She was tall and smart and honestly made Hoseok so happy.

With all these couples around, you would think Taehyung would want to settle down and find his own forever person, but he liked being single.

He liked the freedom to do what he wanted, when he wanted, with whom he wanted. Sydney’s little outburst today reminded him once again why he didn’t date. It was just too much work.

Taehyung was snapped from his thoughts when another message came through, and he figured he should answer instead of staring off into space holding his phone.

Taetae: Looks like fun, guys! Glad you made it back safe!

Kookie: Whoa, he lives!!!

Hoba: We thought we would have to call someone to check on you.

Jiminie: Where have you been Tae?

Taehyung leaned back against his headboard and let his legs sprawl out as he typed.

Taetae: Had a busy day then came back here and painted.

Hoba: Painted?

Jiminie: What happened?

Taetae: Nothing. Why?

Kookie: Nothing? Yeah, except you only paint when something has happened or you need to get out of your head.

Taetae: Australia and I broke up. Not why I painted though. The sunset was just pretty.

A rule of thumb for Taehyung was that he never gave out his hookup’s real name. He knew his friends well enough to know they would go on a cyberstalking spree, so everyone got codenames so they couldn’t be found.

Jiminie: What happened?

Hoba: Oh no.

Taetae: Nothing major. She wanted us to be more. I didn’t and she caused a public scene. She stormed out, and I let her go.

Kookie: You told her you just wanted a hookup, though, right?

Taetae: I always do.

Hoba: A public scene. Where were you? I thought you guys only fucked.

Jiminie: Are you okay, Taetae?

Taetae: I’m okay Jimin. I was going to talk to her anyway because she was getting clingy so it worked out for the best.

Taetae: Yes, we fucked Hoba but we both got hungry so I took her to a café like the gentleman I am.

Taehyung trailed a hand down his bare torso as he thought back to the incident at the café. He didn’t mean to bring his friends with benefits into your café specifically… It was just the one that had the best reviews.

And he could see why. The muffin you gave him was phenomenal.

Jiminie: I'm sorry that happened.

Kookie: And in public? Please tell me it wasn’t busy.

Taetae: She got mad because she thought I was flirting with the barista.

Hoba: Were you flirting with the barista Tae?

Taehyung barked out a laugh. His friends knew him well.

Taetae: For once no. But Hoba you have been withholding information, you know.

Jiminie: Wait, what? What info?

Hoba: Huh?

Taetae: You didn’t tell me BabyBlue still worked at The Oasis. Imagine my surprise when I see her behind the counter.

Kookie: Oh shit.

Hoba: What did you do Taehyung? She is my fiancé's best friend, please, for the love of God, leave her alone. Mira is stressed enough from wedding planning.

Taetae: Nothing! We just talked then Australia flew off the handle

Kookie: So you were flirting then?

Jiminie: I think you can’t help but flirt when you are around her Tae. You’ve been like that for years.

Hoba: Please tell me you didn’t call her that stupid nickname to her face. You know she hates it.

TaeTae: Oops.

Hoba: Oh my God Taehyung.

Taetae: What? She called me Captain right back! And it was not flirting you two! So stop it! We do not flirt.

Jiminie: Yes but you appointed yourself the “Captain Taehyung” title in university because you thought it would get you more women.

Kookie: Did that ever actually work?

Taetae: I’ll have you know I got laid plenty of times because of that name thank you very much!

Hoba: So you flirted with her and your girl stormed out. Classy Tae.

Taetae: We did not flirt. It was playful banter besides, Australia knew she and I were never going to be serious.

Kookie: I agree with Jimin. I think you can’t help but flirt with her. She doesn’t fall for your charms and it makes you mad

Taehyung sat back and bit his lip. He wasn’t flirting with you. He didn’t like you like that. He just liked the flustered look on your face when he teased you. It was…adorable. Plus, you were one of the only girls who didn’t immediately fall at his feet, and something about that always made him want to work harder around you. It kept him on his game because he took pride in the fact that everyone seemed to adore him.

Everyone except you.

Hoba: Please just leave her alone Tae. I’m serious! With the wedding coming up I don’t need you two at each other’s throats.

Taetae: Believe me, I was just as surprised to see her as she was to see me. Did you guys know she is a published author?

Kookie: ...Yeah?

Jiminie: Duh.

Hoba: Yes.

Taehyung frowned.

Taetae: Hoba you don’t count because you are marrying her best friend. Jimin? Kook? How did you know?

Jiminie: Because we ask about our friends we went to school with. We don’t spend our time trying to get under their skin.

Kookie: Jimin and I bought her book. I could loan it to you if you want.

Taetae: I do not spend my time trying to get under her skin. She’s just very easy to rile up.

Hoba: Oh god.

Jiminie: You mean flirt with?

Taetae: Nope. Good try though. And yes Koo I will take a look at her book. Can I come to pick it up after work tomorrow?

Kookie: Sounds good.

Taehyung dropped his phone on his chest and stared up at the ceiling. He felt weirdly proud that you did something with your degree instead of him, who ended up working an office job for his father.

Taehyung quickly pulled up his search engine and searched for your book.

His eyes widened when he saw that it was number fifteen on trending and received a lot of praise. He kept scrolling, reading review after review of people saying it was one of the best love stories they had read in a long time.

Taehyung was pleasantly surprised, as he knew you only dated one guy in university named Simon, who was an absolute pompous dickhead.

When he found out what went down between you and Simon, Jimin had to lock him in the dorm so he didn’t storm down the hall and punch Simon right in his ugly ass mouth.

He was just… protective of one of Mira’s friends, that’s all.

Taehyung set his alarm and turned out the light. He shucked off his sweatpants and pulled the covers over his naked frame.

However, sleep wouldn’t come because all he could think of.

Was you.