#just admit that fat people are cooler than you and you’re jealous

[crookedfandomquill]

My god, these notes… I’m fat. I used to be very skinny, and now I’m fat. That’s due to a combination of hormonal changes, genes, stress, exercise intolerance, and diet. And it was an adjustment but I am SO FINE WITH IT NOW. I like the way I jiggle when I take stairs. I like the way I curve in the mirror. I like how I can sleep on a floor if need be and be fairly comfortable. I like that I’m not bitterly intolerant of cold temperatures. I like that I’m squishy and comfy when my boyfriend cuddles with me. I like that I have more surface area to get tattoos.

My only insecurity is related more to mild gender dysphoria than fatness itself; my belly is very round and it sometimes makes me look pregnant, which is something I never ever ever want to be. But on the other hand, my boyfriend thinks my belly is really cute!

I also spent my childhood in a very impoverished country where fatness was culturally valued because it indicated food security and/or a body prepared to help you survive illness and deprivation. When your family’s crops have a poor yield and you come down with malaria, you know what you don’t want to be? Skinny!

So yeah. I think we’re all more than capable of moving past “fatness is neutral/not a moral failing” and into “fatness is good and sexy actually”.

it literally HAS to be okay to choose to be fat in order for fat liberation to mean anything at all tbh

[mf-despair-queen]

Fake Dates - Stuart Twombly

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Stuart Twombly/Reader

Word Count: 17,921

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Unprotected Sex, Protected Sex, Drunk Sex, Kinda Jealous Sex, Oral (both receiving), Face Riding, 69, Reverse Cowgirl, Side Sex, Sexy Finger Sucking, Making Out, Multiple Orgasms, Dirty Talk, Cowgirl, Kinda Romantic Sex, Mentions of Alcohol, Mentions of Drunk Driving (please don’t do that, it’s bad)

Notes: I will actually admit that I really liked this. That says a LOT for me! As always, if the mobile app screws with you, I’m sorry. All I can say is try opening it in the web browser if you need to, even a mobile web browser SHOULD work. Thanks to @malia--stilinski and @savage-stilinski for lurking while I wrote and editing for me because I can’t spell LOL.

“Lunch time!” You were hollering the second the clock on your desk struck noon. You barely were able to push in your chair before you grabbed your laptop, sliding it in your bag, throwing said bag over your shoulder as you moved from your spot. Bouncing towards your friend, you linked arms with her, draggin neha towards the exit and down to the cafe-coffee shop combo. Neha laughed at your excitement, joking about your love for food.

You broke away from her once you walked in, picking up a salad from the cooler and tucking it under your arm to head to the coffee counter. You ordered your two normal coffees - a tall with hazelnut cream and sugar and a tall caramel macchiato -  and shuffled towards the exit where Neha was already waiting with her own salad.

“Either you got me a coffee without telling me, you really need caffeine today, or,” she paused, nudging your side lightly so the coffee didn’t spill as you walked through the packed Google corridors, “we are expecting a third party for lunch today.”

“I hate ordering your coffee,” you smugly stated, sticking your tongue at her. “You always get something super complicated. Some… grande low-fat Italian Roast coffee with 2% milk and extra espresso and exactly two sugars, no more. Whip cream and caramel flavor and… No. Too much to remember.”

“It’s delicious though,” she hummed.

“Right,” you returned. “We know I’m not allowed more than one cup of coffee every few hours. So, yes. Stuart is joining us for lunch. He texted me about a half hour that he was on his way over. He had his optometrist appointment earlier and is just coming in for the afternoon. He said he would join us for lunch before we head back to the office.”

“Are you sure you want me there then?” She asked with an eyebrow raised. “I don’t want to interfere with you and your boy.”

“My little Stu Boo?” You laughed, Neha smirking at you. “Don’t give me that look. It’s just a nickname. You know that. There is absolutely nothing going on between us.”

“Right,” she drew out skeptically.

“What’s that supposed to mean? We are just friends, Neha! Nothing more, nothing less. He is my best friend and has been since the internship. I do not, and I repeat, do not have feelings for Stuart Twombly.”

She hummed under her breath, sounding unconvinced at your words. Instead of arguing further, you dropped it, changing the topic until you hit the lounge you normally ate in. The room was filled already, but your spot in the back corner was reserved by the sweater-wearing dumb dork that was your best friend. He pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, slumped backwards in the plush cushions of the couch he was sat upon. His nose was buried in his phone as always, not bothering to look up when you pushed the door open with some struggle. You smiled, seeing he had forgone his beanie for once. His brownish colored sweater hung open lazily, a white button up under it, his black undershirt poking through the top unbuttoned buttons. His hair stuck up in a stylish quiff, the dark chocolate color looking fluffy on his head.

“I see a Mr. Twombly in our midst,” you hummed, holding out the caramel macchiato. It was taken without looking, Stuart simply waving in acknowledgement. You sneered at him playfully, placing your coffee and salad on the table, purposefully pushing past him to take the seat to his right. “Excuse me,” you joked, tucking your skirt under you, dropping onto the couch next to him. Your flip flops slid off your feet, your legs curled under your form where you were planted.

“That’s rude,” he deadpanned, sipping his coffee. He glanced at Neha, who shook her head. “How do you put up with her?”

“I should ask you the same thing,” Neha laughed, suggestively glancing between you both. “She’s your best friend.”

“I regret that decision every day.”

“I regret it too,” you snapped back at him. “Because your rude ass got tacos on your way here from the eye doctor and you didn’t even bring me some? It’s from Jose’s too. That’s the best tacos in town, dude. You left me to get some shitty salad from the cafe. Friendship officially ruined.”

“Right,” he flatly replied, opening the bag of food he had on the table. He pulled out his platter, two loose tacos wrapped neatly on top of it. You squealed in delight, taking the tacos. “I know you and tacos, Y/N. I would have been disowned if I didn’t get you the carne asada tacos.”

“I love you,” you cheered, kissing his cheek. Wiping his cheek in disgust, the man grimaced and turned away, unamused.

“What about me?” Neha complained.

“Get your own damn tacos,” came Stuart’s blunt reply.

“Rude!”

You pulled out your laptop, browsing the internet and your calendar as you sat in silence. The only sound between your trio was the crunching of food and the slurping of drinks, joined by occasional typing of your keyboards. Three laptops covered the table, joined by the scattered cups and food wrappers. It wasn’t unusual for your group to not interact. It was the peace of being with each other that gave you solace during lunch. No words needed to be shared unless there was something that needed to be discussed.

But, seeing as you saw their faces five days a week for nine to ten hours, if not more, you were able to have plenty of conversations to pass the work time.

You leaned back in your seat, watching some stupid video on Youtube your friend shared. Neha was typing furiously on her laptop, her smile curling occasionally - probably flirting with some tech guy again. Stuart was nose deep in his phone once more, his fingers skillfully swiping at the keyboard. He was hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, letting you run your fingers along his back absentmindedly, It helped him relax; it helped you relax. Only you were allowed to touch him like that. He always said he liked your light touch.

Perks of best friendship.

“Hey, Y/N,” Stuart called. You glanced over at him in confusion, Stuart’s phone held up in selfie mode. Your head cocked to the side, unable to smile before he snapped the photo. You blinked once, scooting closer to his side to look at the photo.

“Stu, I look horrible in that!” you cried sadly. Stuart held a cute dorky, lopsided smile in the photo and you? You looked like a deer in headlights, confused why the nerd specimen beside you was calling out for you. You eyes were wide and your lips were slightly parted, head cocked ever so slightly.

“Not possible,” he said quickly, typing away on his phone. You leaned your chin on his shoulder, watching what he was doing. He had sent the photo in a chat it seemed. “I know, I should have asked first, but my friends wanted to see you.”

“You have friends?”

“Very funny,” he snapped. “They’re my best friends from home. They didn’t believe me when I said I you were my friend. They couldn’t believe that I, Stuart Twombly, had a girl friend. So, they wanted proof!”

You blinked, looking at him. “Girl… friend?”

“Yeah. A girl that is a friend,” he said, his head turning towards you. His eyes narrowed on your blank face. “What?”

“Your friends asked about you having a friend that is a girl?” He nodded slowly. “Because you told them you have a girl… friend.”

“Yeah,” he said, almost matter-of-fact.

“You didn’t think to tell them you have a female friend?” You continued.

“What’s the difference?” he asked, not understanding what you were trying to say. “Female, girl. Same thing in the end.”

“Alright, let me try saying it like this,” you tried. “Stuart has a female friend.”

“Yeah.”

“Or,” you breathed. “Stuart has a girl friend.” He blinked. “Oh my God, Stu. Girlfriend! They think you have a girlfriend! As in romantically. As in you are dating! As in you just sent them a picture of us so they think I am your girl.”

“You are my girl though.”

“Not like that!” You cried. “They think you kiss me. And we hold hands. And probably other perverted things because guys are fucking horn dogs and only think with the cocks.”

“Hey,” he sighed, almost offended.

“You can’t say you don’t,” you glared. “Need I remind you about the strip club? Or that time I walked into your dorm and you were-”

“We don’t talk about that!” he blushed, cutting you off before Neha could hear. “We agreed never to bring that up again.”

“Porn is normal,” you whispered under your breath for him to hear. “Masturbating is normal.”

“But you seeing me jerk off isn’t,” he seethed. “But, you’re wrong. These guys have known me for years. They are the only people I was able to talk to in high school. They know me and they know that I don’t mean girlfriend. Just wait and see when they reply.”

“Ten bucks says they think we’re dating,” you huffed, grabbing your phone from your bag. You stayed pressed to his side, arms wrapped around his bicep, hugging him close. Stuart didn’t protest, just resumed what he was doing before his group chat popped up you assumed. You smiled at the lock screen, a group photo of your team when you went out for dinner your first day on the job. Everyone was drunk and acting silly, but it was a night to remember.

You quickly unlocked your phone, giggling at the home screen. It was of you and Stuart, his goofy smile present on his face. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, having taken them off while you were studying in his room that day. You were pressed to his side, similar to how you were now, licking his face playfully. His words replayed in your mind, him scolding you for such a thing. “Don’t fucking slobber on me, your punk. I will lick you back!” He never followed through, but his reaction made you laugh and fall off his bed.

“Stu,” you said in a sing-song voice. “Let’s selfie!”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“No!”

“I will lick you again.”

“Fine.”

You grinned, Stuart turning to your camera, allowing you to take multiple selfies of you both making silly faces. You added a few Snapchat filters for fun, laughing between each photo. The final one was using this flower filter, flowers hover above both your heads and he leaned over, placing a firm kiss to your cheek. It was something Stuart did occasionally before hugging you close to him, constantly thanking you for being there for him. It was his subtle way of showing affection for his best friend and never once did you feel like it was something more. The butterflies in your stomach arose just by being by his side, the friendship between you both making your mood lift easily.

You didn’t like him romantically. It was just friendship.

Stuart stared at the final result, scowling. His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, shaking you off his arm to elan back. “Send that to me,” he whispered lowly, biting at his cheek. “It’s cute.”

“Never say that again,” you giggled, leaning back against the couch with him. You did as he asked regardless, tucking your phone away. “The word cute does not fit coming from your mouth.”

“Fuck you.”

“That’s better,” you smiled.

His phone chimed before he could retort, his lips tugging into a smirk. “Time to prove you wrong,” he grinned, opening the chat he had with his friends, effectively titled “404! Group Name Does Not Exist”, which made you giggle. The chat bubbles were popping up quickly, responding the Stuart’s crappy photo of you and him.

[Not a Disney Prince: Omfg Stu has a girlfriend. And she is hot as balls!]

[Memester: He wasn’t joking. This isn’t a drill guys! Stuart Twombly is dating the most beautiful girl in the world]

[Bananas Aren’t Just For Eating: What if he just conned some girl into posing with him?]

[Bananas Aren’t Just For Eating: How can we be sure he’s not playing us?]

[Not a Disney Prince: DON’T RUIN MY DREAM, GREG. OUR BOI IS NO LONGER SINGLE FINALLY.]

[Memester: I’m so proud. Our boi’s getting action finally. Did you fuck her yet?]

[Memester: Like… was she good?]

[Memester: Don’t hold out on us, dude. Deets.]

[Not a Disney Prince: He’s a prude. He’s probably still a virgin LOL]

[Memester: I just want what is best for him! I want him happy, healthy and laid by his hot gf because come on. Stu needs to be laid. And with her? I approve of him losing her virginity finally.]

[Bananas Aren’t Just For Eating: Guys, he’s not a virgin. He lost it in college, remember?]

[Memester: …]

[Not a Disney Prince: Were we drunk when he told us?]

[Bananas Aren’t Just For Eating: Hammered.]

That’s there the chat ended. The phone slipped from Stuart’s hand, his eyes wide with disbelief. His lips parted, ragged breaths escaping. It felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack, his hands shaking. “No, no, no,” he panted, his hands knotted in his hair. The man tugged anxiously at his locks, mumbling to himself, “This can’t be happening. Fuck, no. This can not be happening.”

“Stu, it’s fine,” you whispered, picking up from phone from the ground. You held it out for him, Stuart making no move to take the device from you. “Why not just tell them it’s a misunderstanding? Accidents like this happen. It’s just a miscommunication. Just tell them we aren’t dating. We are just friends.”

“No,” he replied shortly, shaking his head. “I can’t.”

“Can’t? Why not?”

“I can’t,” he breathed, clammy hands rubbing to his jeans. “You just don’t get it. I can’t tell them that. They’re my best friends…”

“Stuart, that doesn’t make sense. Why can’t you tell them?” You pried lightly. You placed your hands on his, his having clasped together in his fit of anxiety.

“I can’t,” he cried quietly. “I can’t lose them.”

“Stu?”

“I’ve never had many friends, Y/N. These are the only friends I have outside of you guys. And I’ve always been the… the nerd of the group. And I can’t imagine what they will say if I tell them I’m still single. It’s just… They’ll unfriend me because I’m just lame. I’m not cool. I’m not manly. I don’t fit in. I’m turning twenty-three soon and I’ve never had a girlfriend while they’ve had plenty. They joke enough that I’ll end up alone but if I tell them they’re wrong, they’ll leave me forever. I just want to fit in with these guys. I want them to know that I can have a beautiful girl too. That I’m capable to dating, not just computer shit. I don’t want them to look down on me because of this. I can’t…”

You frowned, sympathizing with the man. Even if it was a horrible decision, you understood why he was acting this way. You had your fair share of friends leave you for stupid things, especially when it came to not fulfilling their expectations. And Stuart had the extra pressure of being ‘manly’ to them, even if you thought it didn’t matter. Guys were complex and had this need to stand up to their friends views, showing how cool they could be. Stuart wasn’t the most manly man around, but he wanted to fit in with his friends as much as you would want to with friends back home. He was scared of losing the people closest to him, the fear of them making fun of him and leaving him for good for something as stupid as a miscommunication hanging over his head, and you couldn’t argue with that alone.

You sighed, giving him a small hug. Stuart sunk into your hold, massaging his face. “What do I do?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed.  

His phone chimed again, both of you staring at the messages that popped up.

[Memester: Isn’t Stu coming home in like… a week?]

[Not a Disney Prince: Oh yeah! HE IS.]

[Bananas Aren’t Just For Eating: So, why doesn’t he bring his girl with him? I’d love to meet her. Any girl that can win Stu’s heart must be awesome.]

[Memester: Greg, as always, makes the best suggestion in the world. I wanna meet her too! We need to meet this girl and find out why she is dating someone so far out of her league!]

[Not a Disney Prince: Hey! That’s our friend, Joe. We are supposed to be happy that he found a girl that is obviously smart, beautiful, and can stand his sarcastic ass for more than five minutes.]

[Memester: I am happy! It’s just… did you see her? Maybe she is a Stuart clone and we don’t know it though? That’s why he got such an awesome girl finally. He held off until he found a perfect female specimen!]

[Not a Disney Prince: STUART TWOMBLY. CAN YOU BRING YOUR GIRL HOME WITH YOU WHEN YOU COME VISIT? WE WANNA GET TO KNOW HER! SHE SEEMS COOL AS FUCK]

[Bananas Aren’t Just For Eating: Why all caps?]

[Not a Disney Prince: Emphasis.]

Stuart pursed his lips, staring at his phone in thought. His head turned to you, leaving you to melt in his orbs. He looked almost like a lost puppy, the liquid caramel color dripping over you. His glasses always made them darker - the color more like honey without them - but they were beautiful. Your heart broke slightly at the lost look he held, a spark of something unknown hiding in his slightly dilated pupils. His tongue ran over his lips, wetting them. He ruffled his hair, the ends sticking up more than before. He wanted to speak, his mouth opening and closing multiple times in an attempt to mold his scattered thoughts into coherent strings of words.

“I think I have an idea,” he finally choked out. “But, you have full right to decline.”

“What is it?” you asked hi, blinking slowly. He laced his fingers together, his foot tapping rapidly to the floor. You could see beads of sweat building on his forehead, a clear sign of his nervousness. You hesitated briefly before reaching forward, taking his hands in yours. “Stuart, you can ask me anything. I’m here to help.”

“Go on a date with me.”

His words were so fast, you were caught off guard. Your mouth opened, closing when nothing but a short croak came out. Stuart cast you a short glance, his eyes pleading with you with inaudible words. Your hands around his tightened subconsciously, letting out a shaky breath. “C-come again?”

“Maybe I should clarify,” he whispered. “Go on a fake date with me. I’m going home in a week. I haven’t seen these guys in months. Y-you can come with me as my… as my fake girlfriend just to show them that they are right. Then, we get back, we can fake break up because we thought it was better to stay friends. Then they won’t pick up on the lie. Everyone’s happy! I just… I’m scared of them finding out the truth and they leave me. So just one small, fake little date, appease my friends, and we can go on with our lives.”

“Why me?” you asked him. His eyes fell to the carpet, pondering for a second before he spoke.

“Because you’re my best friend and I trust you to do this with me. You know me better than anyone and I can’t do this without you.”

You stayed quiet, biting your lip. Something swirled in your gut, the feeling wrenching from side to side. I felt wrong to lie but, at the same time, it felt right to agree. It would just be one night. What harm could it do, right? He was your best friend and he made you happier than ever. Why not make him happy for once?

“Alright,” you finally squeaked, Stuart turning to look at you. “Anything for you, Stu. You are my best friend. You are one of a kind. Besides, how can I say no to a hot nerd like you?” Stuart chuckled, shaking his head. “Tell your friends I’m in. And… come by tonight. We will come up with a game plan for this fake date.”

“You,” he breathed, pulling you into a rare but tight hug. His arms looped around you with ease, crushing you to his chest. “You are a literal angel. What did I do to deserve you?”

“You got stuck with me during the internship and I wouldn’t leave you alone,” you laughed. “We just click, Stu.”

“Yeah,” he said, a small smile on his phone. “I’ll be over around seven tonight, We have a week to prepare. We need to know everything about each other. No holes. My friends will pick up on them and they’re going to want to make sure you are ‘right’ for me.”

“So,” you hummed, nuzzling into his cheek. “Studying!”

“Yeah,” he grimaced, poking at his ear. “Assuming I’m not deaf.”

“Get over it,” you laughed, kissing his cheek. “I’m gonna head back to work. Don’t forget. Studying, tonight, seven sharp. Bring pizza!”

Stuart waved you off, whipping out his phone to reply to his friends. You caught a short glance at his words as you packed your bag, gathering your garbage.

[Tech Lord: She’ll be coming with me because of you losers. Just… don’t scare her away please. She’s too good to lose.]

You smiled to yourself, tossing your stuff and rushing from the room, skirt flowing behind you.

~

Over the next week, you spent ever waking spare second of the day curled up on your bed in your tiny apartment, boxes of chinese or pizza lining the floor, crumbs covering your sheets from your constant snacking. You had your share of laughs and cries, nose buried in books and notes, practicing until things were perfect.

The first night, Stuart had shown up at seven sharp as promised. His arms were full of books and albums, the man stumbling into your apartment before they fell to the floor. He was determined to have you learn every bit of his life, forming you into the perfect ‘girlfriend’ his friends would approve of. You, too, had gathered materials from your past, wanting to make sure that every base was covered when you confronted his friends that weekend. Your answers needed to match perfectly because one slight slip up would tip them off.

Every night, you would be tested on your knowledge of the other. Likes, dislikes, music taste, college degree, relatives, first pets, allergies. Hell, even awkward things like puberty and first times came up. In those few days, you realized something. In the time you had known Stuart Twombly, the glasses wearing nerd becoming your closest friend in all of San Francisco, you never realized how eerily similar you were. You had similar pasts - bullies, choice of college, family drama. You had the exact same tastes, be it music, food or even movies. You would turn to blasting your favorite songs until your neighbors were banging at the door, letting the tunes relax you while you took turns on flash cards of the others past.

By day four or five, you weren’t sure at this point, Stuart had the bright idea to practice actual relationship gestures. If you were to be his fake girlfriend, you had to show it. His friends knew Stuart wasn’t the type for a lot of PDA, but they would want to see some sort of affection towards your respective other. If you sat stoic side by side in front of them, they would call you out for sure.

Hugs were easy. Stuart didn’t seem like it, but he was a giant teddy bear to you. He liked to cuddle during your movie nights. He hugged you good morning and good night as a normal greeting and goodbye wherever you were. His arm casually found its way around your shoulders when you were sat on the same couch, his nose not buried in his phone and his fingers not typing away on his laptop rapidly. He was used to you in his arms; it was your normal position and everyone knew it. Nick and Billy were always jealous too because Stuart nearly punches them in the gut every time they try to touch him.

The hand holding felt weird at first. It took a while to figure out how to hold his hand properly. One way was too uncomfortable while another would be sweaty. One wasn’t super romantic while one looked like he was ready to drag you to a hotel and ravish your body. When your fingers laced together, fingers tingling from the feeling of his soft skin, things felt right. Your hand fit in his exactly, the lines of your palms matching flawlessly. It surprised you how seamlessly your hands melded together - it’s like they were meant to be clasped together in a tight hold.

The most nerve wracking was practicing kisses. You were used to kissing his cheek playfully but that was it. The thought of kissing your best friend made a shiver run up your spine, your nerves through the roof. And no matter how many times he reassured you that it wouldn’t ever be big kisses - that short, chaste kisses would suffice - you would remain freaking out internally and externally. During practice, you backed out a few times whenever he got close, a wave of panic setting in before his lips could touch yours. A few times, he would be leaning in and his hand slipped from under him, landing in your lap instead of your lips that lead to a round of laughter that lasted ten minutes at a time. When you finally got a kiss out, it was like fireworks explode, your limbs giving away even though you were sitting on the bed. It was beyond perfect, and got better with each short kiss to follow.

The night before your trip to Oakland where Stuart was from, he was staying with you. You were deep in thought as he wandered your apartment in nothing but his usual sweats, making sure everything was ready for the short drive. The entire week, you were debating with yourself. You were feeling odd with the entire situation, and it wasn’t because of the lie you were partaking in.

It was Stuart himself.

Whenever you looked at him, your heart would race. Whenever he did something, your body would heat up. The look in his eyes made you melt inside. But you shook it away regardless. There was no way you were feeling anything for him. Stuart had been your friend since the early days of the Google internship. He was the only person you could bring yourself to talk to due to shyness and you were the only person he could stand to talk to reasonably. He was your best friend and there was no way it was more than that.

Right?

This isn’t a crush, you tried to convince yourself, pushing the butterflies in your stomach out forcibly, shoveling the feelings into a grave to never see the light again. But no matter what you did, a small sliver would slip through again, making you question what was going on. And as you watched the shirtless man walk out of your bathroom, a gentle look in his honey eyes that weren’t shielded by thick black frames for once, you felt your crack once more, a small ounce of fear settled deep inside you, rooted at your core.

He gave you a tender kiss to the forehead before retreating to the living room, collapsing on the couch. The lights went out around you, your mind too preoccupied to let you sleep. You spent hours staring at the wall until you let yourself drift off, asking yourself quietly if you liked Stuart. Stuart was barely able to sleep himself. He stared at the ceiling, his fingers grazing his lips, the touch of yours still lingering more than twenty-four hours later, your last practice kiss being the prior day. His mind raced with thoughts, the man unable to clear them to find the answer he sought.

Neither of you would admit that things were deeper than you thought.   

~

“Hey! Guys!” Stuart yelled to the three guys that were standing in front of the restaurant. Stuart left your side to run towards them, the three guys cheering and meeting the Googler halfway. They were tackled into a tight hug, the foursome letting out incoherent words at each other.

You were running late, the original plan of Stuart hanging with his high school buddies delayed by multiple things. The car wouldn’t start so you left later than you wanted. Stuart had to make a stop by his parents house, leaving you in the car for over and hour before you snuck out, wandering down the street to a local park. His parents didn’t know about this fake dating fiasco and he wanted to keep it that way. It was bad enough lying to his friends. He didn’t want to lie to his parents too just for you to supposedly break up days later.

By the time you were able to meet with his friends, the sky had grown dark, the time nearing seven. Your stomach was growling when you climbed into his car, yet you were elated when he mentioned you would be joining his friends for dinner at this fancy Italian restaurant in town. You were there shortly after, his friends already waiting for your imminent arrival. And the second Stuart was parked, he was running through the parking lot.

Stuart pulled from his hug when you were slowly walking over, shaking his friends off to grab your hand. Your fingers laced together as practiced, Stuart tugging you towards the group of boys. “Y/N, I want to introduce you to my best friends. Joe, Flynn and Greg.” The three guys waves in unison, you returning with your own shortwave. “Guys, this is Y/N. My girlfriend.”

Your smile fell slightly, catching the short stutter in his voice at announcing that, but his friends didn’t seem to catch his short hiccup. They all greeted you happily, pulling you from Stuarts hold to give you tight hugs. Stuart held a sour look on his face, disliking the closeness of his friends on you. The first chance he got, you were tugged back to his side, his arm securely wrapped around his waist. You fidgeted slightly in his hold, nestling closer to him regardless.

“I hate to be the one to ask,” you chimed in, all four sets of eyes turning to you. A red hot blush filled your face, making you nervous. “C-Can we eat now? I’m starving.”

“I like her,” Flynn said, pointing at you. “Get you a girl that can eat.”

“We haven’t even seen her eat,” Greg pointed out, walking towards the restaurant with Flynn by his side. “What is all she eats is salad?”

“Naw. I can tell. She’s a pasta loving girl,” Flynn reassured. “I have this food sense!”

“Sorry about them,” Joe laughed, walking with you and Stuart inside. “They’re stupid.”

“No, they’re nice,” you giggled, Stuart smiling to himself. “But, I really am starving. Don’t expect me to share any breadsticks.”

Joe laughed, nudging Stuart. “She’s a keeper, dude.”

Dinner was slightly awkward. You were able to maintain a proper conversation with the three new en in your life, Stuart chiming in occasionally to back up your words on something. But that was the easy part. Just like Stuart, you got along with his friends easily, understanding why Stuart was as close as he was with them. But it was, once again, Stuart that made your heart rate skyrocket. Your foot tapped against the ground, Stuart’s hand placed on your knee for some unknown reason. The guys couldn’t see it, so it wasn’t necessary. But the familiar heat of his touch bled into your bare knee, making you antsy.

“I don’t get how you can put up with this nerd,” Flynn laughed, handing the waiter his card for payment. You tried to protest, Stuart’s comrades repeating their desire to cover dinner since you had come out to visit. Stuart had moved his hand behind your chair, leaned back as he listened to the conversation. His eyes were glued to the side of you face, watching you laugh at Flynn’s remark.

“I dunno,” you hummed. “We just click I guess.”

“Same,” Joe laughed. “We were the fantastic four in high school, even if no one knew us. We didn’t seem like we fit together, but we were the best of friends. We had all agreed to stick together through thick and thin. Then this fool up and left us.”

“Hey, you can’t blame me!” Stuart protested.

“What happened?” you asked.

“This fool,” Flynn started, pointing a leftover breadstick at Stuart, “decided he was gonna abandon our plan to all go to Stanford because he wanted to go to Berkeley. He had full ride and everything and he gave it up.”

“Really?” you asked. You glanced at Stuart, his face a pale pink. “You gave up Standford for Berkeley? Why would you do that?”

“Better computer science program,” he said with ease. “Not like it mattered anyway. You all ended up at different schools anyway.”

“True,” Greg laughed. “Trust me, none of us were mad that he changed his path. We get it. You go where your heart tells you. We all kept in touch regardless. And we’re glad Stu was able to get where he is now. Google was always his dream after all.”

“You know,” you hummed, looking at Stuart. “I went to Stanford.”

“Oh my God!” Flynn yelled. “You squandered meeting her earlier because of your college choice? I am salty now.”

“It’s just a few years,” Stuart clarified. “Besides, I have her now, guys. That’s all I need.” He placed a kiss to your cheek, making you blush.

“You guys are sickening,” Joe fake gagged, everyone laughing. “But seriously. It’s been nice having you home, even if it’s just for dinner, Stu. We miss you around here.”

“I know, guys. It’s just hard to get away with everything back in San Fran,” he sighed. “Always busy with something.”

“Something. Or someone?” Flynn laughed, giving you both a wink. Stuart flipped him off, your head buried in his shoulder to hide your embarrassment.

“We get it, bro,” Greg reassured. “We’re just glad you’re happy. You have a great job and a great girl to share your life with. It’s nice to see you smile.”

Stuart gave a half-hearted smile, the weight of the lie on his shoulders. Your own frown was hidden, feeling his tense and knowing what he was thinking. I just lied my ass off to my best friends.

Your party headed out to the parking lot, Stuart twirling his keys. “I hate to cut the night early, but we are heading home. It’s been a long day and we have to drive home tomorrow.”

“Aw, come on Stu,” Flynn whined. “We barely get to see you. And it’s barely eight! We have time still!”

“We should hit the bar!” Joe offered. “The Dutch Pot guys? Best drinks in town?”

“Hell yeah!” Flynn and Greg cheered. Stuart frowned.

“I don’t know guys…”

“Come on, Stuart,” the guys pleaded.

“You are barely ever in town. Just a few more hours. That’s all we ask.”

“We just want to spend a little more time with you before you go back to your fancy Google life.”

“Just one drink. Please?”

Stuart looked down at you his eyes asking what his mouth didn’t. You nodded, squeezing his hand that was clasped in yours. “One drink won’t hurt, Stu.”

The man sighed, ruffling his hair. “Fine. One drink.

“One drink!” the guys cheered.

~

One drink didn’t happen.

It started with a round of shots. The one turned into two. Two turned to four. The four turned into a bottle each, the guys being kind enough to order a margarita since you didn’t care for the taste of their beer. And before you knew it, your small group was beyond buzzed, laughing and chatting happily amongst each other.

You spent time playing random drinking games, drinks being downed left and right. You were even dragged to the dance floor, your body ending up pressed firmly to Stuarts. Your hips grinded against each other, the slight blur pushing all of your skeptical emotions away. His arms were wrapped firmly around you, pulling you taut to him, your sweaty bodies moving in sync. You had unbuttoned his shirt, leaving it flopping open to reveal his dark undershirt, hands running up his torso to his neck. His hands pushed against the small of your back, shirt hiked up around your waist. The skirt you decided to wear rode up whenever you pushed your ass into him, Stuart groaning in your ear.

When the current song ended, you stumbled back to the table, the three guys sitting there with bottles in their hands.

“Have fun?” Greg asked, sipping his drink with a lazy smile. “You looked like you were.”

“It was a lot of fun,” you told him, sitting in your seat. Stuart flopped next to you, pulling you against him.

“You know. It’s weird,” Joe hummed aloud. “The entire night, we haven’t even seen you guys kiss.”

“Are you the non-PDA kind of couple?” Flynn asked.

“I guess you could say that,” you chimed when Stuart didn’t respond.

“Well, break your little code just for once. Give us a kiss guys!” Flynn cheered. You and Stuart shared a glance, shrugging in unison. You leaned forward, placing a short kiss to his lips, the touch tingling. Feel accomplished that you were able to do it so easily, you smiled at him, Stuart returning it. But when you sat back, his friends seemed unimpressed.

“Lame!” Joe whined. “That’s not a kiss!”

“What?” Stuart grumbled. “Of course it was. Maybe you’re facing drunk blindness or something.”

“I can see perfectly!” Joe claimed.

“It was lame,” Greg hiccuped. “Give her a better one!”

“A nice, sloppy, juicy lucy!”

“That’s a sandwich,” you deadpanned.

“You know what I mean!” Flynn cried. “The sloppiest, wettest, most passionate kiss in the world! Do it, guys!”

The guys started chanting ‘do it, do it” repeatedly, the words getting louder every time it circled around. The words kept hitting your ears over and over again, making you nervous. Stuart rubbed your shoulder to calm you, only making it worse. He tried to protest, but the guys weren’t having it.

“Alright!” he finally cut them off. You said nothing, turning in your seat to face Stuart completely. You felt your palms sweat, shifting uncomfortably against the leather booth. Stuart licked his lips slowly, leaning in slowly. Your heart was hammering to your chest, your only thought being Fuck, we didn’t practice this. What if I suck?

But when his lips hit yours, you instantly melted into it, arms moving around his neck. His arms moved to your waist, pulling you closer to him. Your heads tilted in opposite directions, allowing you to get closer. His lips tasted of the bitter liquid he had been consuming, but you didn’t mind. They were still soft, enveloping yours completely in a passionate connection. He didn’t push to go further, but from what you were already doing, the world around you didn’t exist. All that mattered was him and the way he was making you feel. The kiss made your stomach knot and your skin burn.

You craved more.

He pulled away slowly, licking his lips once more. Your eyes fluttered open, your mind racing to figure out when they closed. Your hands were shaking slightly, layers of bewilderment running through your veins. You stared at his face, noting how pink lips that were slightly puckered still, swollen from the single kiss. His eyes were closed, his eyelids fluttering with the movement of his orbs behind them. Your body heated up, ready to lean in again.

Your heart nearly stopped before you did though. You were holding your best friend in such an intimate way, the shrill wolf whistles of his friends cutting through the muffled sounds in your ears, blood flowing quickly in them. You had kissed him and you found yourself wanting more. You admired the way he looked, admitting how handsome he looked. It felt good to have him pressed against you, and it wasn’t in a friendship sense.

It was like the alcohol was gone in a snap, your mind sobered. I think I like Stuart, you told yourself. Maybe it was the alcohol, but the feelings that lingered weren’t the friendship you always told yourself it was. And it scared you.

“Excuse me,” you whispered, not caring that you straddled Stuart to slip from the booth, your chest hitting his face and knocking his glasses into a lopsided position. Stuart finally opened his eyes, going to stand to join you, ready to say something. But you were gone, quick steps caring you towards the bathrooms. Stuart frowned, sitting back in his seat. He was handed a beer, Stuart not hesitating in drinking.

“That was hot,” Flynn grinned, Stuart glaring.

“Fuck off.”

Inside the bathroom, you were hunched over the sink, ignoring the looks of random strangers behind you. Your ragged breathing came out in wispy gasps, tears threatening to spill over the rims of your eyes. You quickly turned on the cold water, ignoring your hours worth of makeup to splash the droplets to your skin.

“Stuart is just my friend,” you tried to tell yourself over and over again. My insane handsome, funny, smart, sarcastic best friend. I kissed my best friend. I can’t like him more than that. It’s just friendship.” You paused, glancing at yourself in the mirror. Your lips still tingled from him, the memory replaying in your mind without end. The more it replayed, the more your heart sped up, your body burning with intensity. “No, no, no. This isn’t happening. He’s Stuart. I-I can’t…”

You thought back on the years of knowing him, from the second you met in the hall for the internship to the days sent in your apartment studying every aspect of your lives. You remembered the joy you felt from him, bewilderment raining over you as you learned everything you had in common. You thought about how comfortable he made you; cuddling in his arms randomly, hanging out and watching tv, hugging him multiple times a day, and even the rare tears he would wipe away from failed dates. He was always there for you, yet the giddy feeling you felt every time was overlooked, written off as the extreme friendship you had instead of romantic emotions. Now that you looked back on it all, you were sure you were wrong, having lied to yourself since the first time he pulled you into his arms willingly for a hug.

“I have a crush on my best friend. Fuck!”

You stayed leaning against the sink for a few more minutes, allowing your breathing to regulate slightly and the tears to cease. You splashed water to your face again, drying it before attempting to apply a quick layer of makeup to hide the redness from your crying. Once you were satisfied, you dropped them back into the bag that hung on your side, taking one more deep breath. You pouted at yourself before shaking your head, slow steps carrying you towards the door. You hand met the handle, one thought crossing your mind. This fake date was the worst decision ever.

You made it back into the center of the bar, spotting the table the guys were at. Not eager to return to the drunken idiots, you wandered towards the bar, thinking to wash down your sorrows in alcohol. Sliding into the empty bar seat, the bartender sent you a smile.

“What’ll it be, sweet cheeks?” he asked.

“Something strong,” you pleaded. The bartender, whose name tag read ‘Thomas’ , nodded, turning to make what you requested. You didn’t watch what he put in it, opting to smile when it was placed in front of you. “How much?”

“On me,” he chuckled. You sent him an odd look, Thomas giving a small smile. “I know boy trouble when I see it.”

“Oh.”

“I saw you run off not too long ago,” he said. You gave him an odd look. “I’ve worked here for a long time, sweetheart. You get used to paying attention to everything.”

“Right…”

“Care to talk about it?”

You hesitated, sipping the drink in front of you. Your face puckered at the bitter taste, shaking it to rid yourself of the strong taste. Thomas chuckled, leaning on the bar. You finally caved after another sip. “I have a crush on my best friend.”

“I don’t see the problem then,” Thomas hummed thoughtfully. “Relationships are best when it’s with your best friend. My mom always told me to be friends first then lovers.”

“But, he’s my best friend. I can’t love my best friend.”

“Well, you seemed pretty loving earlier,” he quipped. “Dancing, kissing, holding hands?”

“Yeah, well, it’s not real,” you pouted. “Its all fake. I agreed to be his fake girlfriend just to show his friends that he was capable of having one. One stupid picture and wrong words made them think that we are dating. It was all a misunderstanding but here I am, pining over my nerdy best friend because he’s just… perfect. He’s so cute. He’s handsome and funny and smart. He’s sarcastic to boot. But we work so well together and I can’t picture myself without him. And it hurts because after tonight, we will go back to being friends. But I don’t know if I want that. How can I possibly go back to how things were after tonight? We were so worried about his friends accepting me and for Stuart to fit in like he wanted, for Stuart to not lose his friends, we didn’t even think about what would happen!”

You weren’t sure why you spilled your guts to him, your heart on your sleeve to this unknown man, but he smiled at your words, taking you hand. “Sweetheart, it’s fine. Things like this happen. And it happens when you least expect it. Sure, this is fake now, but who says that next week it won’t be real?”

“Because he doesn’t like me like that.”

“I doubt that. He looked pretty upset when you ran off,” Thomas claimed. “And it wasn’t the kind of look that says his best friend ran off. It was the kind of look that says the girl he liked ran off.”

“Yeah, right.”

“I guarantee it,” he laughed. “You just can’t give up. Because something good will come from this. Who knows, maybe this isn’t as fake as you think.”

“I doubt that,” you sighed. “But how are you so good at giving relationship advice?”

“Because I was in a similar situation once with my boyfriend, Isaac,” Thomas admitted. “We were ‘dating’ girls so no one would know that we were into each other. But it made us stronger because we realized how good we are for each other. And that was five years ago. We’re still going strong. The fakeness around our relationship made our relationship something we can’t forget.”

“That’s actually really sweet,” you laughed, Thomas smiling. “Thank you. I really needed that.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. You guys are cute together, so I’m rooting for you. I hope you have soe success after this little fake date. Don’t let your feelings be fake, either.”

“Oh, witty, ain’t ya?” you joked, Thomas grinning.

“Isaac loves it.”

You didn’t notice Stuart’s eyes glued to your from from his seat the man slouched deep in the leather booth with his hands in his pockets. His teeth gnawed at his bottom lip, his eyes narrowing when the bartender took your hand in his. He couldn’t hear what you were saying to each other, but his gut wrenched in discomfort from the short action. It twisted even more when he picked up on the faint echo of your laugh over the music, Stuart bouncing unhappily.

You were his fake date for the night. Sure, his friends were drunk off their asses, but that didn’t give you any right to flirt with the bartender, especially in front of him. Watching you smile and laugh hurt, his heart aching. He was pissed, but he was also sad. His fake girlfriend wasn’t by his side. His best friend wasn’t by his side.

He wasn’t going to have it. He stood from the booth quickly, pushing past people quickly. His hand wrapped around you upper arm, your eyes wide as you turned to him. “Can we talk?” he insisted harshly through gritted teeth. You frowned slightly, opening your mouth only to shut it quickly. “Please. Like, right now? It’s important.”

“Stuart, I don’t know,” you started, Stuart tugging you off the seat.

“Just come on,” he growled, tugging you away. Thomas sent you a sad look, giving you a wave. Your drink was left half finished, your body dragged through the crowd by your nerd of a crush. You stumbled behind him, arm beginning to hurt from his hold. His long legs carried him forward quickly, your own strides having difficulting keeping up with him.

“Stu, can you slow down?” you asked, Stuart not answering. “Stu, answer me.” Still nothing. His lack of response made you plant your feet, ripping your arm from his grasp. “Stuart, will you just stop?!”

He turned to you instantly, eyes flaring. Neither of you cared that you were in the middle of the dance floor, drunken idiots dancing around you. “What gave you any right to do that?” he snapped.

“Do what?” you snapped back, not backing down. “Get a drink at the bar?”

“No!” he yelled over the music. “What gave you any right to flirt with the bartender? Especially in front of me!”

“Flirt with the bartender?”

“Yes!” he practically screamed.

“Even if that were true, Stu, you seem to forget that this is a fake date. I’m not your girlfriend. This entire thing is not real!”

“I don’t care!” he hollered. “I can’t sit around watching you do that. It hurts too much to see you flirting with him. I care about you too much to watch it. I watched you run off, worried that I did something wrong, and then this? I can’t stop feeling like… like I’m losing you. I don’t care that this is a fake date! You are my girlfriend and I can’t stand seeing you talking to him. My heart hurts.”

“Stuart…”

He rubbed his lips together, massaging his jaw. “I can’t stop thinking like this, alright? I can’t stop this twisting inside me knowing that you weren’t by my side. You should have been flirting with me. I can’t watch you flirt with someone else when those words should be for me.”

You watched the man, surprise written all over your face. He just admitted that he wanted you to flirt with him instead of the bartender, even if you didn’t do what he thought. Your heart raced, slamming against your chest. Your eyes landed on his lips, admiring how perfectly plump and pink they were. His anger from before seemed to have subsided already, and now he was antsy, shifting between his feet like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

You launched forward, the fakeness of your date no longer weighing on your mind. The only thing you could think about was him. Your lips pressed his, arms wrapping around his neck to hold him close. Stuart didn’t wait to respond, his arms wrapping around your waist. He returned the kiss with the same amount of vigor, enveloping your lips with his. The sound of your lips pulling apart noisily and reconnected was washed out by the pounding music in the air. Your noses brushed together, teeth somewhat clashing whenever you leaned it. Sparks flew everytime you kissed him, your body smoldering hot in his arms. They weren’t fast kisses, but the passion level was out of this world. The taste of the alcohol on his lips mixed with his natural taste made you smile, giving him a flavor all his own. You mind was blank, nothing but him running through it.

The world around you seemed to vanish. The people dancing didn’t exist. The music was silent. The warm air was only because of your connected bodies. In that moment, with your hands on his cheeks and his moving down to grip your ass, nothing else mattered. Just the two of you in the middle of the bar, kissing like your life depended on it.

~

You stumbled together through the door, Stuart pushing you through the halls towards his room. It was a small apartment his parents continued to pay for for him so when he returned home, he had a place to stay without needed to be with his parents. They occasionally rented out the spare room in the apartment, but currently, it was unoccupied.

In retrospect, you should be glad you were in his apartment now. Alive, at that. You made the worst decision in the world, your common sense dulled by the alcohol allowing Stuart to drive you both home while intoxicated. Not the smartest decision, but your hormones were a bit haywire. He had broken a few speed limits on the way. It was also impressive that he was able to keep the wheel straight in his blurred, drunken vision, your lips pressed to his cheek and your hands running along his body. You tried to give him road head a few times, only managing to get his pants unbuttoned before he would do a sharp turn, your body flung from his lap. He was definitely antsy though with the teasing he got, jittering in his seat as he drove, overly anxious to get home - hence the speeding. You were glad, and surprised, that you weren’t pulled over with the number of traffic laws he had broken in the attempt to get home, and right now, you weren’t regretting the decision.

Tomorrow, you would though. When the hangover sets in and you remembered how you got there, you would probably vow to never drink and drive again.

Right now, your burning body was ready for more, Stuart’s touch making your blood pressure spike with desire. You were backed into the bedroom, your hands attempting to remove each others clothes. You struggled to walk and undress tripping over your own feet when you tried to pull his shirt over his head or he tried to pull and unhook your bra, your shirt left dangling on the doorknob of his bathroom. His pants were sliding down his hips, your skirt left in a heap in the hallway. Your heels clacked as you walked, Stuart bouncing to kicked his own shoes off.

Your kisses had grown messier in the tie between the dance floor and his room, strings of saliva connecting you together whenever he pulled away for air. Your tongues tangled together, his controlling for the most part, wandering your cheeks to memorize the shape and taste. His hands roamed your body as he kissed you, tugging your lip with his teeth. They were swollen from the intensity, the furious kissing making your lips hurt with want.

You bodies spun in an attempt to continue undressing. You were pushing his pants and boxers down eagerly, Stuart finally achieving his goal of unhooking your bra. But the second he pulled it free from your body, he fell back, his pants around his ankles making it hard to move. He let out a noise of surprise, falling back on the bed.

You smiled at him, dipping down to pull his pants from his legs. They were tossed behind you, breaking a lamp on the way, but you weren’t concerned with that. Your eyes narrowed on his exposed cock, licking your lips slowly at it. It was huge - larger than you were used to - with a swollen red tip. It twitched against his stomach, a string of precum connecting the tip to the happy trail of dark hair along his toned stomach. Stuart laid bare on his bed, crooked glasses on his nose as he propped himself up to watch you. He was definitely more handsome than you ever would have admitted, seeing him nude making your arousal rise. He was handsome; a toned stomach and chest, arms flexing under his weight, his giant cock twitching and ready for you, and his face staring down at you, moles lining his cheeks and his honey-caramel eyes turned a dark black. Your panties were soaked, your pussy throbbing and crying for attention.

“Fuck,” Stuart mumbled, watching you back away in nothing back your underwear and heels. You stood carefully, body wobbling from left to right uneasily to remove the heels. Your round breasts bounced with your movements, Stuart letting out raspy heaves. Your nipples were hard and taut, his mouth watering and his fingers itching to wrap around him, tugging at them. He watched you slowly shimmy from the wet panties, you ass exposed to him and your core dripping, juices running down the insides of your legs. “So hot.”

You said nothing to him, straddling him as you climbed atop him, pressing your lips to his in a steamy connection. Your tongues twisted together, swirling in circles, enjoying the taste that came from the other. Your bodies moved so you were properly laying on the bed, your nude bodies flesh against one another. His hands roamed yours as they had been since the kiss at the bar, yours tangling in his hair. Your groins rubbed against each other viciously, making your body shudder with arousal. Your core was throbbing more than before, yelling at you to do something to it.

Your lips left his, dragging down and tugging his lips with it. You kissed along his chest, flicking your tongue against his nipples to make him squirm. His breathing picked up, his eyes watching as red marks were left littering his chest. You continued down his body, licking his ab lines to his cock. You kissed it once before moving back up his body completely, connecting your lips in a sloppy, fast kiss. Your body slid up as you kissed his jawline until your lips left his skin completely, your core hovering over his face.

“Woah,” he breathed, inhaling your scent, his nose nuzzling into your clit. You mewled slightly, your nails clawing at the paint on his walls. His tongue ran through your folds, dipping into your core once before retracting. He let out a content sigh, his hands finding home on your ass. “It smells delicious. You taste even better than you smell. Fuck, I’m drooling, baby. I’m so hungry for you and your delicious pussy. Let me taste you, baby.”

“Please, Stu,” you whimpered, sinking further onto his face. He grunted happily, a low slurping coming from under you. His tongue rant through your folds repeatedly, lapping at your juices constantly. He would dip into your core, swirling circles inside you. He traced your walls, the tip smoothing over the sensitive nerves. It tapped at your g-spot, making you moan loudly. The buzz in your ears got louder, the alcohol that you had consumed making the pleasure even sweeter than normal. Or, maybe that was just him?

He made you feel amazing. He groaned against you, letting out low pants when he licked you harder and faster. He swapped between your core and your clit, spelling his name on the engorged nub and flicking it rapidly. His lips wrapped around your clit, sucking at it vigorously, tugging it with his lips. You moaned louder with each passing second, head falling back as he ravished your lady parts, loving them with extreme intensity. He ripped the moans from your throat, grinning against you.

You looked down at him, his eyes piercing into you. You couldn’t see below his eyes, but they remained unblinking, only closing occasionally to savor your fluids on his tongue. He watched your face contort happily, your breasts bouncing with the subtle thrusts of your hips. Your body shifted against his lips, pressing deeper onto him.

“Stu,” you whined. You could feel his body shuffling under you, your head turning to glance over your shoulder. His hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking it quickly, matching the pace of his mouth and tongue. The precum was smeared over the tip, his fingers wrapped tightly around his shaft as he stroked it. Your body heated up just at the sight, a trail of saliva dripping down your chin that you shamelessly wiped away with your hand. Watching him masturbate while eating you out was a dream you regretted never having because it was beyond sexy to see. “Fuck, Stu.”

You lifted off of him only to spin around, leaning over his body. Your core still pressed to his lips while your own lips replaced his hand. You bobbed along his length, Stuart ceasing his licks long to let out a long grunt. You moaned around him, the noise vibrating his cock. His licks resumed to match your bobs, your bodies moving in sync to please each other. Your nose was buried in the dark hairs at the base of his cock, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Stuart’s tongue moved to your clit, licking it rigidly until you were a quivering mess.

“I’m gonna cum,” he grunted against your core, sucking at the nub harder than before. You return the favor, tongue running along the vein on the underside of him, sucking his length harshly. His breathing quicken, your own nostrils flaring with increasing breaths. Your core knotted, unraveling quickly in a sea of fire. You were shaking violently, Stuart’s cock twitching against your cheeks. “Fuck, baby. I’m gonna cum.”

You sped up, urging him nonverbally to do as he wished. He let out a straggled grunt, his body convulsing under you. Streams of white, hot cum spilled from the tip, washing down your throat in waves. You swallowed every drop with difficulty, your own body quivering with your orgasm. Stuart let out a pleased nise the second your juices hit his tongue, the man selfishly lapping at every drop you released. He swallowed every last drop, same as you, savoring every second of it.

You pulled away, licking your lips clean of the droplets that escaped. Stuart was panting, his warm breath fanning over your core. Your desire spiked once more, your pussy contracting with want. You licked his tip teasingly, the shaft hardening from the simple action.

“Baby,” he whined, nuzzling his nose into your core. “You’re so wet still. God, you’re so wet. You must still be horny.”

“I am,” you let out in a raspy, seductive voice. You sat up from his cock, your body sliding down until you were situated on his pelvis. Your hips rolled against his, wet core making his shaft more slick than just with your saliva. Stuart grunted. Peering with dark eyes at your backside. “I want more.”

“Ride me,” he said in a husky tone. “Fuck me, baby.”

You smiled, though he couldn’t see it, lifting off his body to align him with your core, sliding down on his cock with a loud moan. Stuart groaned, letting his eyes close, relaxing under the pleasure of your tight pussy around him. You felt goosebumps run up your spine, stilling for a second to feel the pulsating of his cock against your walls, making your blood pump harder.

You circled your hips for a second before shifting forward, his cock sliding free from inside you. He was buried back instantly when you sat back, repeating the process steadily. Stuart moaned this time, his eyes cracking open to watch your ass move against him. Your body moved like a pro, rocking against him expertly. His cock emerged from your pussy soaked to the hilt, disappearing back in your tight hole with ease. Your ass jiggled timely with your motions, Stuart appreciating the way you looked as you rode him.

“You’re so hot, baby,” he gasped out, reaching forward to fondle your ass cheek. He gave it a gentle smack, making you squeal and shift against him. You moved against him faster, leaning farther forward. He coughed slightly at the new feeling, the feeling constricting around him more. “Oh, shit. So tight. You’re so tight.”

“You’re so big,” you whimpered loudly, head falling back, your hair whipping in different directions. Your sped up, Stuart thrusting up to meet your movements. “Oh God, Stuart.”

His fingers traced up your spine, his stomach tightening to keep himself upright. They tangled in your locks, tugging lightly at them. You moaned loudly, letting your head fall back more, Stuart’s tugs getting harder the faster you moved. You were on the verge of screaming, arching more from his touch.

He let go of your hair, arms wrapping around your waist. He sat up completely, your body halting. Stuart kissed along your shoulder blades until he hit your shoulder, sucking and nipping at your neck. You relaxed against him, mindlessly rubbing at your clit to please yourself. Your walls clung around him, making him bite and kiss harder at your neck. His hands moved to your chest, fondling them in the palms. He tweaked the nipples between the tips, tugging at them until they were stiff.

“Stu.”

“What, baby?” he breathed. “Do you like this? You like me playing with your nipples? Or do you wish I was sucking them?” He kissed your neck once, a smile on his face. “God, I do love your tits, baby. So round, so firm. I bet you would moan loudly when I suck on them.” One hand moved down to yours, helping to rub your clit. “Such a dirty girl you are, Y/N.”

“Stuart!”

He pulled you back with him, his back colliding with the bed. You were rolled onto your sides, Stuart’s slithering down your body to lift your leg, slinging it over his waist. His hips snapped into your backside, his arm winding around your waist to keep you close to him. You moaned loudly, head falling back against his shoulder, allowing him to thrust as much as he wanted into you.

His cock hit your g-spot with ease, the arm that had ended up under your head, gripping your breast tightly. His hips bucked against your ass, the slapping sound filling the small apartment bedroom. His cock slid in and out of you without problem, shoving into you relentlessly and rubbing along your walls. You were a moan mess against him, the ecstasy you felt from his powerful, godly thrusts making your stomach coil.

“Stuart,” you whimpered, pushing back against him harder. His thrusts sped up, his head buried into your neck as he pounded into you. His cock pistoned in and out of you quickly, making your body shake with happiness. Your leg bounced against his waist, heel kicking against his ass. His hand squeezed at your breast harder, Stuart never once slowing down.

“Y/N,” he growled, pushing his head into the back of yours. His thrusts were getting sloppier already, his second orgasm obviously approaching fast. “Shit.”

“Stuart, baby,” you gasped out. You took his hand from your chest, bringing it up to your mouth. Two fingers were wrapped by your lips, Stuart’s grunting getting louder. You moaned around the two digits, sucking at them sensually, tongue lavishly circling them. His chest heaved, his sloppy thrusts hitting your backside.

“I’m cumming,” he rasped. “I’m cumming. Fuck, I’m cumming!”

His cock twitched inside you, a loud moan in your ear ringing before he was spilling himself into you. Streams of his seed spewed from the tip into you, his thrusts slowing. The warmth of his orgasm and his seed filling you completely burned the coil that had been building inside you. You moaned around his fingers, your juices washing over him, splattering your walls. His thrusts slowed to ride out your highs, your bodies close together in a thick layer of sweat, heat, arousal and passion.

He pulled out of you slowly, rolling from the bed to stumble on uneasy feet to the bathroom. You heard the rippled of water as you laid in the bed, signalling that he was urinating before cleaning himself off. You ignore the sticky feeling between your legs, bundling in the sheets. Stuart made his way back to the bed, not bothering to get under the covers as he curled into your side.

“I love you,” he mumbled in a slurred voice, the alcohol mixing with his exhaustion. He was out seconds later, a low snore escaping his lips.

You frowned. At this point, you had sobered up, fully aware of everything that had happened between you both. You turned to look at the sleeping man, his eyes fluttering against his cheeks as he slept quietly. Your frown deepened, your heart falling. You wondered if he would remember in the morning what happened and if he would still feel the way he claimed. You wondered if things would remain this way when you returned home, or if they would be awkward, attempting to go back to the way they were.

You knew there was no going back though.

You moved his arm from your waist, sliding out of the bed. You slowly dressed yourself, taking a pillow and blanket to the couch. You sat on it, glancing at the clock before sighing, your head buried in your hand with silent tears.

“I love my best friend. But, this is all fake.”

~

Things were awkward like you had feared when you returned home.

The drive home was silent the next day, neither of you saying anything about the events in Oakland. You weren’t sure if he remembered, but he never questioned. You assumed he knew, that his words meant nothing; it was the once time that drunken words did not represent sober thoughts. So, you let it go, never once choosing to talk about it.

Your office was filled with an unusual tension, words hardly shared. You didn’t embrace each other like normal and tried to remain on different tasks that didn’t overlap to keep from interaction. You sat on opposite sides of the room, no matter where you were. You couldn’t even spare him a glance without your heart clenching, a wave of sorrow raining over you. Your heart yearned for him, but he wouldn’t return the gesture, no matter how much you hoped.

Neha tried to ask, but you changed the topic every time. You just tried to put up a front, only allowing yourself to cry in solitude at home. You loved him - an unrequited love. You wished he would remember, telling you the same three words as that night. You wished you could forget that night at the same time you wished to remember; the pleasure you felt with him was beyond you, never something you had felt before with any other guy. You had shared the perfect moment but the fake date ruined it.

It was never meant to happen.

You were sure you had ruined your friendship with Stuart Twombly because of a misunderstanding, an agreement, a fake relationship, alcohol and your personal feelings that had developed. The mixture sent your life down a spiral in the toilet, letting it plummet to the ground.

Two weeks had passed since the unspoken night with Stuart, and you had yet to share two words with him. You sat outside alone for lunch, munching on a sandwich as you typed on your laptop in an attempt to finish your current assignment. Your headphones were in, letting the music block out your surroundings.

You heard the seat across from you scratch against the concrete through the music, your eyes darting up to see who it was. You had to double take when you noticed Stuart sitting in the chair, anxiously tapping his foot. He was fidgeting in the seat, obviously nervous and uncomfortable. Carefully removing the earbuds, you cleared your throat, knowing it was dry.

“C-Can I help you, Stuart?”

The man frowned, obviously saddened by the lack of nickname he was used to. His mouth opened to answer, closing when nothing came out. He tried a few times before clearing his throat as well, licking his lips. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“What?”

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said flatly.

“What? No-”

“You’ve been avoiding me because we had sex.” Your face fell, the tears already forming in your eyes. “I’m sorry. We were drunk and I was mad. I-it was emotional and…”

“Just stop, please.”

“No!” he yelled, lowering his voice before speaking again. “I can’t. I’m sorry. But I can’t go on like this anymore. I…” he rubbed his lips together, scratching his chin. “I don’t regret it, alright? It was the best night of my life. And yes, I was drunk. But I remember everything so clearly that happened between us. Up until I… I came in you, I remember everything.”

“Oh,” you said shortly.

“I’m sorry though, alright. The fake date shit should have never happened. I ruined us because of my stupid ego with my friends. And I can’t stand what we have become from it. You’ve been avoiding me because whatever happened between us - it changed us. I feel like I hurt you because of what we did. And I want us to go back.”

“Stuart-”

“I can’t stand this anymore,” he cried, ruffling his hair until it was messy. “I can’t stand not having my best friend in my life.

You frowned. Ouch, was I just friendzoned?

Stuart rubbed his lips together, wetting them often. His mouth was dry and he was struggling to form words. “I-I can’t stand this awkward tension that has formed between us. I can’t stand not having her in my arms all the time, hugging her day in and day out. I can’t stand not being able to call her just because I want to. I can’t stand us not hanging out, watching movies or tv shows and throwing popcorn at each other. I can’t stand not hearing her beautiful voice, whether it’s happy or sad or confused or intrigued. I can’t stand…” he paused slightly, biting his lip. “I can’t stand that I can’t call her mine every day.”

“Stuart.”

“I can’t stand just being friends.” He stopped talking, leaning forward on the table. His hands were together in tight fists, pressed to his lips. His eyes were red and glossy, trying to hold back tears. That made you heart wrench, your own tears ready to spill. He ruffled his hair again, staring at the table instead of at you. “I can’t stand withholding these feelings - my feelings - because I know they won’t be reciprocated.”

You blinked once, taking in his words. You were confused slightly, taking a moment to understand what he was telling you. Your gut bubbled with delight, your body seeming to understand before your mind. You stared at him, Stuart glancing up when he got no response. When it finally clicked, you stood abruptly, leaning forward to kiss him.

But your heads bumped together painfully.

You fell back in the seat, both of you grunting in pain. You rubbed the spot on your forehead, watching Stuart do the same. His eyes met yours, a small laugh finally escaping both of you. The laugh gradually built until you were laughing loudly together, using the table for support.

“So um,” he started, leaning on the table. “All that practice we did kind of went down the drain, eh?”

“Oh, shut it,” you grumbled, kicking him playfully. He grinned, moving to your side of the table, taking your hand.

“Let me at least do this properly then,” he whispered, leaning forward to press his lips to yours. You smiled into the kiss, turning to wrap your arms around his neck. He pulled you closer by the waist, his lips enveloping yours. You felt a familiar spark, your body physically melting into his hold. It wasn’t a steamy connection - just a passionate, slow on, your feelings conveyed with every ounce of will you had. Your lips moved together, heads tilting to let the connection speak for itself.

When he finally pulled away, he smiled, caressing your cheeks with his hands. Your foreheads rested against one another, low breaths escaping your lips.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated. “The fake date was the worst.”

“It really was,” you giggled.

“But, it showed me how much I like my best friend as more than a best friend.” He smiled, kissing your lips again softly. “It showed me how bad I have it for her because she is the most amazing girl in the world. And I want to prove it by taking her out.”

“Wait, what?” you asked, backing away.

Stuart chuckled, rushing to his bag and pulling out a bag of food labeled ‘Jose’s’. “I had meant to use this as a peace offering to get you to forgive me for what happened. But, I guess now it’ll be my proposal to you.”

“P-proposal?!”

“Not like that!” he sputtered. “I meant like…”

“Stu?”

“Y/N, I want to take you out on a date,” he said full of confidence, holding the bag of tacos out. “I want to take you out on a real date this time, not a fake one. Because I have a crush on my best friend and I want to take her out for a good time to show her how much she means to me.”

You blinked, staring up at him. His face faltered, scared you were about to deny him when you nodded, taking the tacos.

“You have yourself a date, Stuart Twombly,” you told him, standing up. You kissed his lips before grabbing your stuff, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “A real date.” You walked off, leaving the man to silently cheer, fist pumping the air.

~

Stuart shoved his finger into the doorbell the following Saturday night. He tugged at the collar of his button up, sweating profusely from nervousness. He glanced up at the light above your door, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He took a second to sniff himself, wondering if he smell alright with the new cologne he was wearing. Following up, he pulled out his phone to check his slightly spiked hair and glasses, checking himself over. He prayed he wasn’t overly dressed in a simple button up and dark jeans. He let out shaky breaths, the long wait playing at the back of his mind.

Finally, he heard the lock click, the door tugged open. “Sorry. I was finishing getting ready,” you told him, leaning on the doorframe to slip on your shoes. Stuart didn’t reply, his jaw slack as he stared. “What?”

“You…” he tried to say, swallowing thickly. His Adam’s Apple bobbed up and down, his eyes roaming your body. You were in a black dress that hugged you perfectly with some black flats. You glanced down at yourself, almost worried.

“Do I look bad? Am I overdressed? Should I go change?” You rapidly asked. Stuart shook his head vigorously in response.

“No!” he almost squeaked, his voice cracking. He blushed at the sound, clearing his throat. “You look amazing. Like… beyond beautiful. I was just shocked because you look so good. I mean, you always look good but… I can’t believe I’m going out with you. And I think I’m underdressed now compared to you. We’re just going to dinner at Romano’s so it’s not fancy, but you look spectacular compared to me.”

“Stu,” you cut him off, pushing up on your toes to kiss him softly. “You look fine. Now, let’s go. I’ve been waiting all day for this.”

“Alright,” he chuckled. You shut your door, locking it and dropping your keys in your purse. Stuart held his arm out for you, yours linking through it as he walked you down to his car. He opened the car door for you, allowing you to slide in and get situated before shutting it for you, shuffling to the driver’s seat quickly. The ignition came to life, roaring with a slight hum. “You know, this is going to be hard.”

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

“It’s going to be hard to focus on this date because I can’t keep my eyes off you,” he whispered, tilting his head towards you with a bright smile that was uncommon for him. It was contagious, you own smile spreading on your cheeks. You leaned over the center console, pressing a kiss to his lips that he returned without hesitation. His lips remained puckered as you pulled away, smiling like the goofball he is.

“Now, date please?”

The date had been the best thing you had been on in all your years of dating. He had taken you out for dinner at your favorite restaurant, the two of you chatting like normal throughout the meal. You had agreed on no alcohol, considering what had happened with alcohol last time, opting for water instead. He paid for the meal despite your protests, saying how it was only right for the man to treat his girl to a god meal. That just made you blush.

Following the dinner, he took you to an aquarium on Pier 39. He was shy at first, your hands brushing as you walked through the glass tanks. When he finally gathered the courage to take you hand in his, your fingers lacing like they did when you practiced many weeks ago, you felt at home, nuzzling closer to him as you wandered through the building. Your hands even stayed connected when you stopped to pet the baby sharks and manta rays, Stuart recording the oy on your face with his phone.

On your way back to the car, you dragged him into a photo booth, Stuart almost reluctant at first. The pictures went fast, most being silly photos you would normally do with your selfies together. But you were able to catch him off guard on the last photo, turning him towards you so you could kiss him fully, the man melting into your touch and returning it before the click was heard. You each got a strip, your heart thumping rapidly at the smile he held looking at them.

The final stop was the same hill your team ventured to during your internship after the crazy night at the strip club. You sat at the same table you were at before, Stuart’s arm around your shoulders to keep you close. You head rested on his shoulder, his on top of your head, the two of you in silence as you stared at the night sky and the twinkling lights of San Francisco. After what seemed like forever, he called your name softly, making you look at him. He smiled softly, leaning in until he was kissing you, no words shared.

Just soft kisses in the moonlight to end the night.

The clock hit midnight as he parked in front of your apartment, killing the engine. He turned to you, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel before speaking, “Can I walk you to your door?”

“Do you have to ask?” you giggled. Stuart cracked a ghost of a smile, sliding out of the car to run around the front, opening your door for you. He took you hand, the two of you taking slow steps towards the door. Your hands swung in unison, a silence having formed between you both.

He stopped once you got to the door, both of you turning to face each other. You opened your mouth at the same time he did, neither of you managing to get words out before you started laughing. He rubbing his hand along your arm soothingly, playing with your fingers. “You first.”

“I just wanted to say,” you started, digging your toe into the ground, looking away awkwardly. “Thank you. Thank you for such a wonderful night. I’ve been on a lot of dates through college and even here, and nothing has compared to tonight. This was… this was perfect, Stu. Thank you.”

He chuckled, making you look at him. “You know, you took the words out of my mouth,” he mused. “I was going to thank you for letting me take you out. For giving me a chance after… after the whole fake girlfriend fiasco. I didn’t think I would get a chance like this because my dumbass proposed that whole thing. Then we had sex and I loved it but we fell apart after and I didn’t know how to talk to you about it. So I thought that This crush that had developed would be unrequited. But, when you agreed, I… I was elated, baby.” You blushed at the nickname, Stuart flushing also. “S-sorry. Slipped.”

“You know, you called me that a lot when we had sex.”

“I know,” he hummed. “I liked it a lot.”

You grinned, wrapping your arms around his neck, drawing him closer. “Well, I like hearing you call me baby.”

“You do?” he smirked, pulling you closer by the hips. “Maybe I will have to call you baby more often then.”

“I’d like that,” you whispered, pressing your lips to his. Your eyes closed, his following suit. It was a tender kiss, lips pressing against each other firmly but barely at all at the same time. His lips were soft, slowly dragging along yours as he pulled away. The low smack of your lips disconnecting filled the air, Stuart pressing his lips to yours again. Your fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his neck, making him shiver amidst the kiss.

He pulled away, licking his lips to relish the taste of you, backing away slightly, keeping his hands on your waist. “I should go,” he mumbled. “It’s late.”

“Oh, right,” you replied shortly. “Late, yeah.”

“Thank you again,” he whispered, pecking your lips and pushing your hair behind your ear before pulling away. His hands tucked into his pockets as he backed away down the walkway, give one final smile before he turned to leave.

You tapped your foot for a second, going to unlock your door. You cracked it open, turning back to your date before he made it to the car. “Stu, wait!”

He whipped around, his thick black frames almost flinging off his face from the speed he turned. His eyes lit up, the caramel color making you melt on your feet. His hair billowed softly in the light wind, a toothy smile growing on his cheeks. “Yeah, Y/N?”

“I know it’s late and all, but I was thinking,” you hummed, hugging the jacket he leant you earlier that night closer around your body. “Maybe you’d like to come in for some coffee or tea? You don’t need to rush off just yet.”

Stuart smiled, clicking the lock button on his car so it beeped, signally the alarm was set. He didn’t want to seem too eager as he bounced back up the path towards you. “I’d like that actually.”

You pushed the door open for him, both of you stepping in. The door clicked shut, Stuart helping you take off your jacket. He turned for a single second to hang it up, finding your lips on his when he went to face you again. He returned it instantly, his hands cupping your cheeks, yours back around his neck. The kiss was infinitely messier than the one minutes ago, tongues greedily battling for dominance that he easily won. The smacking sound was louder and more consistent through the entryway to your apartment, Stuart pulling away for small bursts of air before he dipped back in. He easily controlled the kiss, your teeth clashing and your noses brushing even though your heads tilted to give you the best access to his luscious lips.

He pulled away with a short gasp of air, kicking off his shoes as he talked. “Maybe we should take this elsewhere.”

“I know the perfect place,” you told him, taking the front of his shirt in your hands, slipping your flats off before backing into the house towards your bedroom.

You both fell onto your bed, laying on your sides facing each other, engaged in a heated make out session. You played with his hair, moving down to mess with the buttons on his shirt, moaning into the kiss he gave you. His hand had settled on your thigh, playing with the bottom of your dress, flipping it up your waist so he could rub your ass through your underwear. He let out a few breathy moans in the middle of the kiss, shifting to help you push off the button up, leaving him in just a white undershirt. Your legs were tangled together in a heap atop the blankets, keeping you close.

Your hand moved next to the button on his pants, popping them easily and tugging the zipper down right after. Your hand slid into the front of his pants, his breath hitching when your fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking it slowly. He pulled away to get some air, connecting his lips to yours again, shoving his tongue down your throat, tracing your cheeks to memorize the layout. His hand pushed into the front of your panties, drawing circles to your clit. You squirmed under his touch, your moans vibrating his throat and tongue in your mouth.

He pulled away from the kiss, tugging your hand from his pants after his was pulled from your panties. He sat up, pulling you with him, tugging off his shirt the second he had a chance. Your dress followed, your arms raised so he could lift the black material off your skin. Your breasts fell free, Stuart pushing up on his knees to hover over you as he kissed you for the umpteeth time that night. You were pushing at his pants as he kissed you, his hands finding your chest rather fascinating.

He struggled to kick off his jeans, letting them off over the edge of the bed when they finally hit his ankles. You were both just left in your underwear, Stuart moving to lay you back to the bed. He broke the kiss, his eyes locking with yours before he spoke. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” you breathed, scratching from his shoulders to the back of his head. “And this time, we are both absolutely sober enough to say that.”

“I never thought I’d say it, but thank God for no alcohol in my system,” he chuckled, pulling his glasses off the bridge of his nose, placing them neatly on the side table so they didn’t get damaged while you were getting frisky. The frames were apparently crooked last time. He leaned back on his heels, shuffling from side to side as he pushed his boxers off, allowing his cock to spring free. It slapped his stomach gracefully in all its glory, standing long, hard and proud at attention. It stood straight out for you, your panties growing moist at the sight. “So um…”

“What?” you asked, playing with the tip of his cock. He grunted, feeling it twitch under your touch, throbbing anxiously.

“D-Do we need a condom or anything?”

“I mean,” you blushed, turning to your table. “I have some if you prefer to be extra cautious. But I’m on the pill. And we weren’t that cautious when we had sex in Oakland.”

“W-well that… that was not the best,” he claimed. “We were drunk and I was horny a-and you were hot.”

“I know, Stu. You don’t have to justify it,” you joked. “Just make the decision. Rubber or no rubber?”

“Well, as much as I would prefer without because it feels way better, we should probably be proper adults and use it,” he huffed almost sadly. “We can work our way back into no condoms.”

“Oh. So, we’re going to have sex more than once?” you jabbed at him.

“Well, if I’m any good, you will always want me to sex you,” he laughed, leaving you to slap his chest. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. But, I would like to. You’re just that good and I don’t want to stop anytime soon.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me,” you told him, leaning over to grab the condom. You swear you heard him let out a sigh of relief, glad you had agreed. “What size? Regular? XL? XXL?”

“Do I want to know why you have that many?” he hummed, leaning down to kiss your stomach, working his way to your chest. You moaned at him, finding it hard to concentrate on the boxes in the drawer.

“I’ve had sex with guys before, Stu. And it never hurts to be prepared. But when every guy you meet is different, you have to have something for every occasion.”

“Well,” he said, sucking at your nipple harshly, tugging it with his lips to hear you moan. “Do me a favor,” he continued, sucking red marks to your breast, repeatedly kissing the stiff peak to prolong his words. You were a moaning mess, Stuart’s head nestled between your arms, your arms still outstretched to grab him a rubber package. “Toss those regular and XL ones and buy two more of the XXL because baby, you’re gonna need them with how much I’m going to fuck you.”

“Holy shit, Stu,” you whimpered, falling back on the bed, unable to fulfill the task. He was ravishly attacking your round mounds, licking and sucking at them vehemently. He was happily nipping at the buds, making them taut under his lips. He let out a throaty groan as he kissed at them, swapping between each one with a loud pop.

“I thought I told you to toss those boxes,” he joked, pulling from your chest, leaving you feeling empty. He grabbed the boxes of regular and XL condoms, physically tossing them behind him, making you break out into a fit of laughter. He pulled out the XXL box smirking at you. “Unopened?”

“No one has ever… fit my expectations for them.” Stuart rolled his eyes at your pun, opening the box and pulling out the square packet.

“Never say that again,” he scolded, placing the package between his teeth, he kept it there as he moved down, pulling your panties free from your legs. You spread your legs, two fingers running through your folds. The condom ended up falling onto the bed, his jaw slack. “Fuck, baby. You’re soaked. Are you ready for me?”

“I’ve been ready.”

“What do you want?” he asked seductively, his voice dropping an octave into a husky tone. The two fingers slid into your core, your moan loud.

“Stuart.”

“You want me?” he asked, your head nodding in agreement. “What do you want? You want my cock in you? You want me to please you while I tell you how beautiful you are?” His lips met your clit, lapping at the swollen nub. You back arched, scratching at his scalp with your nails. “You want me to fuck you, baby? You want me to pound you into your mattress until you scream my name? You want me to hold you while I show you just how perfect you are? I’m gonna make you cum, baby. Cum so hard you won’t remember your own name.”

His fingers had curled at this point, your body quivering at his words and touch.. He was able to hit you sweet spot without trying, his trimmed nails scratching along your sensitive walls. His mouth to your clit never slowed down, the man lavishly ravishing it, spelling his name over it like you remembered. He was determined to full the promise making you scream his name, the only thought racing through your mind being his name on replay. As much as you wanted his thick cock inside you tiny pussy, you were loving the way his fingers made you feel. And you knew after tonight, you would have a hard time being around him, the sight of his veiny names reminding you of what he can do.

You might get in trouble a few times because you would probably drag him off to the copy room for a little foreplay. AKA, his fingers and tongue so far up your pussy, you’d be seeing stars the rest of the day. And occasionally his cock, most likely.

“Stuart,” you gasped, aching against your sheets. His free hand reached up your body, fondling your breast firmly, giving it a squeeze to enhance your pleasure. “Oh, God, baby. I’m going to cum. Oh God, I’m going to cum!”

“Cum, baby,” he whispered against your clit, giving it a sloppy kiss. His fingers sped up, the noisy sloshing of your wet core around the digits mixing with your moans and gasps. “I want to taste your sweet juices.”

“Holy shit,” you gasps again. You body spasmed, walls clenching. “Oh, fuck! I’m cumming! Oh, God, I’m cumming! Stuart!” You screamed, violent shakes running through your form. Your juices spilled down his fingers, the digits soaked for a second before they were pulled from you, his tongue replacing them. He slurped at your pussy, drinking every last drop of liquid that you secreted, making sounds of satisfaction as he swallowed.

He pulled away, licking his lips before his arm wiped them dry, the man taking a moment to lick his fingers clean. “You taste delicious,” he quipped happily. He moved to stroke his still hard cock, the precum oozing more. “But, I think I need to be inside your tight little cunt, baby.”

“Fuck, me, Stu,” you pleaded.

You watched with half-lidded eyes as he scrambled to find the condom on the bed, having lost it when he realized how wet you were before. He cursed under his breath, finally cheering when he found it under your leg. He ripped it open with his teeth, rolling the rubber down his length expertly.

He nestled between your legs, leaning down to kiss you, his face softer than earlier. “If I hurt you, tell me to stop.”

“You could never hurt me,” you reassured him, kissing him lightly.

“I know. Just…” he sighed. “I don’t want to risk anything.”

You took his hands in yours, his body almost collapsing on top of you so you could link your fingers together with his. “I trust you and you aren’t risking a thing. I want this, Stu,” you told him.

He smiled softly, taking one hand from yours to align himself with your core, returning it to your hold when he slid in easily. You both moaned simultaneously, Stuart stilling to allow you to adjust. He laid soft kisses to your cheeks, forehead and jawline, finally kissing your lips passionately. Your tongues sensually rubbed against each other, slowly moving your lips together.

His hips shifted back, pulling himself from inside you only to snap back strongly, your moan caught in your throat. His thrusts became steady, speeding up gradually until he was wildly pounding into you. Your hands tightened around his, the hold on his hands keeping you grounded. He pulled from the kiss, his head buried in your neck instead, light kisses applied to it. Your nose buried in the side of his head, kissing at his temple and moaning into his ear.

His hips bucked anxiously, the tip skimming your g-spot with every thrust your legs wound around him, trying to tug him closer, wanting to feel him as go as deep as he could. You could hear his low grunt, feeling him piston himself in you quickly.

“Stuart,” you moaned into his ear, your hips circling against him. He grunting, telling you he was listening, a smile forming on your face. “I want to ride you.”

“Oh fuck,” you heard him rasp, rolling you both over instantly. You sat up against him, Stuart’s eye a dark shade at this point, shielded with layers of lust. “I love you riding me. You’re so hot when my cock is shoved into you, your body bouncing against my cock. Fuck, me baby. Fuck me hard.”

“Maybe I don’t wanna go hard,” you teased, rocking against him slowly. The way his cock slid out of you was slow, the slide back in even more agonizing. He groaned in dissatisfaction, bucking upwards into you. “Want do you wanna do, baby? You want me to go faster? You want me to ride you like a pro again?”

“No,” he let out. His hands found your waist, stopping you from moving. “I’m going to fuck you still.”

His hips bucked upwards quickly, rapidly shoving himself into you. A scream came from your throat, head falling back in pleasure. He hit better angles than before, hitting your g-spot full on. His movements were sloppy and fast, but they were beyond pleasurable, the level of ecstasy you felt through the roof. His cock pistoned into you core without remorse, your bodies colliding in deafening slaps. The sound of skin on skin filled the room, reverberating off the walls of the small bedroom.

“Fuck, Stuart!” you screamed, the man drooling at the sight of you over him. Your breasts bounced with each thrust, his fingers itching to touch them and his mouth watering to taste them. Your eyes were clenched, lips parted for your many moans. His cock was dripping when it slid free from you, the rubber glistening in your juices before sliding back in with ease. It was harder for him to feel aroused due to the condom, but he felt his heart racing and his stomach clenching, his cock pulsing and twitching as he neared his end. It was taking longer than he thought and hoped, but watching your pleased face made him happy and definitely was getting him closer to the orgasm he sought.

His thrusts slowed to a stop, his body pushed up until he was chest to chest with you. Your eyes cracked open, staring at his beautiful orbs, feeling him move your legs around his waist. Your arms moves around him, under his arms so he could keep you upright against him, his hips bucking into you. It wasn’t the hard, powerful thrusts as before. This was more sensual - more connected. He still could hit your sweet spots without trying, your body shaking against him.

“Stu,” you cried, nails raking down his back. Red marks lined his muscled skin, his nails digging into your hips. His steady thrusts into you made your stomach clench, eyes squeezing shut. “Oh god. I’m so close. Faster, baby.”

“Fuck,” he groaned, thrusting a bit faster than before, hips rocking into yours rhythmically. His eyes closed, lips puckering as he began chasing his orgasm, shoving into you as fast and hard as he could muster. He kissed and nipped at your collarbone, finding it harder to concentrate. Your walls were hugging him tightly, the pulsing in his shaft translating to your body. Your hearts beat together, sloppy thrusts an indication of his inevitable orgasm. “I’m cumming baby. Are you cumming?”

“Yes,” you cried shortly, out of breath. “Stuart, baby. I’m cumming,” you whimpered.

“Fuck,” he gasped, moving to kiss you instead. “I love you.”

You were taken aback, barely managing a short, “I love you too” before you were quivering in his arms, pressing your lips to his in a passionate connection. Your juices splattered around him in powerful waves, dripping down the latex around his length. Your toes curled into his back, nails clawing at him harder. Stuart’s body grew warm, the moisture and warmth of your core making his stomach clench. Even through the condom, he felt everything, his cock twitching sporadically. His seed spilled from the tip in squirts of white, filling the small air gap at the end. His groan was muffled by your lips, the knot inside both of you disintegrating. His thrusts slowed to ride out your orgasms, careful not to rip the condom before he pulled out completely.

He lifted you off the bed, still deep inside you, lying you on the bed so he could pull out. He waddled to the bathroom, supporting his condom-covered cock, stripping himself of the rubbed. It was tied off and discarded, Stuart using the bathroom before cleaning himself He returned with a warm, wet cloth, cleaning your thighs and core or your juices and sweat, giving it a light kiss when he was done.

He draped the blankets over you before curling up next to you, his head resting on your chest. Normally after sex, you would want to cuddle into the guy, but this felt more comfortable for some reason. Your hand ran through his soft hair, playing with the ends happily. You always loved his hair, the locks insanely pleasing to run your fingers through. And maybe it was just having his body pressed against yours, holding you securely, that made you comfortable.

You also knew that at some point during the night, you would adjust so you were resting on him instead. It always happens when you cuddled, falling asleep on your bed or his bed during a movie. You find yourself sleeping on his chest, his arms holding you tight.

“You know,” he mumbled sleepily. You glanced at the clock, realizing how late it had gotten. Two hours of sex later, here you were. “I can’t really sleep without my pillow.”

“I know.”

“But,” he continued, nuzzling your chest, kissing the side of your breast. “You make a better pillow I think.”

“You’re such a dork,” you laughed, continuing to pet his head. You knew he was falling asleep quickly, the man able to sleep with ease after sex it seemed. He must have been exhausted from all those thrusts he did. You pussy still aches just thinking about it. “Get some sleep, Stu Boo.”

He mumbled something incoherently, probably acknowledging what your said, He shifted against you, kissing your chest again before saying, “Be my actual girlfriend, Y/N,” he said, voice laced with sleep. “My real girlfriend, not my fake one. I can’t stand the fake shit.”

“Alright. Anything for you, Stu. You are my best friend and you are one of a kind,” you whispered. He turned to look at you, his eyes glazed with sleep. “Besides, how can I say no to a hot nerd like you.”

“I’m your hot nerd,” he whispered back, curling back against you, falling asleep. You smiled at his sleeping face, letting yourself relax on the bed.

“It’s not fake this time,” you told yourself through a yawn. “I fell in love with my best friend. And I don’t regret it.”

As a a subnote, the chat names are KIND OF inspired by friends in my real life. My friend, Joe, is the fucking memelord of our group. And my friend Greg (RIP) had once wired an audrino board to place Stepmania with bananas. It was the best thing to see while in college. 

Errthang Tag 2.0: @catcrown21; @parislight; @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone; @savage-stilinski; @honeymoonmuke; @rumoured-whispers; @youshiverwhenyouhearmyname; @caitsymichelle13; @addicttotw; @fox-lau; @xmadwonderland; @kaelyn-lobrutto24; @lobrien; @kal-pal; @espermirror; @nowthisiswaar; @belleknows; @ashpie97; @mixedupsammy; @dylobrienlover; @newtosaur250; @bandsweyhey; @crystals-marie; @livinginadreamersparadise; @tommyswolves; @veronicarapp; @bilesbilinskix; @danathewitchywoman; @thisismexxo; @you-all-have-guns; @soulaura-canavel; @bojabee; @obrienswxlf; @feelingsareharddd; @xoitsjustmexo; @supernaturaltakeover; @suggsmate; @cassiee867; @malia--stilinski; @barryallenplease; @flirtstiles; @bottleoffirewhisky; @jadalecki-jackles; @evansesdust; @everythingthatisrandom; @puppiesarehappiness; @ixlovexpeterxparker; @onlyalittleteenwolfobsessed; @tenseoyong; @jadav5 

Want to be tagged? Send as ask! - Bold accounts are ones I cannot tag.