#red wine online shopping

[velspicess]

Bentleigh Wine Store: Your Trusted Source for Quality Rose Wines

Sipping a refreshing glass of rose on a sunny afternoon – pure bliss! But what if you run out just as the mood strikes? Fret no more! Bentleigh Wine Store, your friendly, family-owned liquor store in Melbourne, offers a delightful selection of quality rose wines, including the ever-popular Le Chat Noir Rose, and the ultimate convenience of alcohol delivery Melbourne straight to your doorstep. Let us be your partner in creating delightful moments, one perfectly chilled glass of rose at a time.

Beyond the Bottles: The Allure of Rose Wines

Rose wines offer a delightful middle ground between bold reds and crisp whites. Bentleigh Wine Store explores the reasons why you'll love them:

Versatility: Rose pairs beautifully with a wide variety of dishes, from grilled seafood to savory salads and even charcuterie boards.

Light and Refreshing: The perfect choice for a warm day, rose wines boast a lighter body and lower tannins than reds, making them exceptionally refreshing.

A Spectrum of Flavors: Rose wines come in a fascinating range of styles and flavors, from dry and crisp to slightly sweet and fruity. Experiment and discover your favorite!

Aesthetics on Point: There's something undeniably elegant about a glass of rose. The beautiful blush color adds a touch of sophistication to any table setting.

At Bentleigh Wine Store, we curate a selection of rose wines to satisfy every palate:

Popular Picks: We stock a range of well-loved rose wines, including Le Chat Noir Rose, known for its delicate floral notes and crisp finish.

Local Gems: We support Australian winemakers by offering a selection of delicious rose wines from local vineyards.

Expert Recommendations: Our friendly and knowledgeable staff can guide you through our diverse rose selection and help you find the perfect bottle for your taste and occasion.

Beyond Bricks and Mortar: The Convenience of Alcohol Delivery with Bentleigh Wine Store

Gone are the days of running out to the liquor store just when you need a refreshing drink. Here's how Bentleigh Wine Store streamlines your rose experience:

Seamless Online Ordering: Browse our extensive selection of rose wines from the comfort of your home and place your order with a few clicks.

Efficient Delivery Services: We offer fast and reliable alcohol delivery services across Melbourne. Say goodbye to last-minute store runs and hello to chilled perfection delivered right to your door.

Wide Delivery Window: Choose a delivery time slot that works for you, ensuring your rose arrives at the perfect moment to elevate your plans.

Bentleigh Wine Store: Committed to Responsible Drinking

At Bentleigh Wine Store, responsible drinking is a priority. Here's how we promote it:

Age Verification: We strictly adhere to age verification procedures for all alcohol deliveries.

Responsible Consumption Tips: We offer resources and information on responsible drinking habits on our website.

Delivery Driver Training: Our delivery drivers are trained to identify potential intoxication and refuse delivery if necessary.

Elevate Your Next Gathering with Bentleigh Wine Store

Planning a summer barbeque, a casual get-together with friends, or simply a relaxing evening at home? A bottle of rose from Bentleigh Wine Store can transform the occasion:

Create a Memorable Atmosphere: A chilled glass of rose sets the perfect mood for a relaxed and enjoyable gathering.

Impress Your Guests: Our diverse selection of rose allows you to serve a variety that is sure to please every palate.

Enjoy the Convenience: With our user-friendly website and efficient delivery, ordering your rose has never been easier.

Bentleigh Wine Store: Your Partner in Uncorking Convenience

At Bentleigh Wine Store, we believe in making your rose-drinking experience effortless and enjoyable. From our curated selection of high-quality wines to the convenience of online ordering and Melbourne alcohol delivery, we have everything you need to enjoy your favorite rose anytime, anywhere.

Visit our Website Today!

Browse our extensive rose selection online or visit our friendly store in Bentleigh. Let our team guide you to the perfect bottle and embrace the convenience of alcohol delivery. Bentleigh Wine Store: Where quality meets convenience, one delicious sip of rose at a time!

Contact- Web - https://bentleighwinestore.com.au/product/le-chat-noir-rose/ Mail - info@bentleighwinestore.com.au Ph - 03 9579 4448 Address - 2/251 E Boundary Rd, Bentleigh East VIC 3165, AU

[thefinewinecompany]

Aging in Armagnac: What Makes It Unique?

Armagnac, the lesser-known cousin of Cognac, is a distinctive brandy hailing from the Gascony region of southwest France. Renowned for its rich flavors and complex aging process, Armagnac offers a unique tasting experience that appeals to enthusiasts and newcomers alike.

Read More Blog - https://thefinewinecompany.blogspot.com/2024/10/aging-in-armagnac-what-makes-it-unique.html

[reddotwine]

Wine Retailers Singapore - Red Dot Wine

Discover the finest wines from around the world at Red Dot Wine, one of the premier wine retailers in Singapore. We offer an unparalleled shopping experience for wine enthusiasts with a curated selection of exquisite vintages from renowned vineyards. Whether you're seeking a rare vintage or a beloved classic, Red Dot Wine is your destination for quality and sophistication in every bottle.

[brirobbins]

For the mothers in your life!

[shoppingcartdiscounts]

Buy Wine Online Delivered Right to Your Door

Hundreds Of The Most Popular Wines. Place Your Order in Minutes and Get It Delivered Within Days!

#wine

#wineshop

#champagne

#buywineonline

#winestore

#BuyWine

#redwine

#RoseWine

#whitewine

#liquor

https://tinyurl.com/3427wrwf

[generateawareness]

OutPour: Unveiling Argentina's Finest Wine Selections

Introduction: Argentina, known for its breathtaking landscapes, vibrant culture, and passionate tango, has also earned a well-deserved reputation as a world-class wine producer. With its unique climate, diverse terroirs, and a rich winemaking heritage, Argentina has carved a prominent place on the global wine stage. Among the myriad of options available, OutPour takes pride in offering the finest wines from Argentina, allowing wine enthusiasts to embark on a journey of unparalleled taste and sensory delight.

The Enchanting Argentine Terroir: Argentina's wine production primarily centers around the western region, nestled at the foot of the majestic Andes Mountains. The combination of high altitude, ample sunshine, and cool breezes from the mountains creates an exceptional terroir for grape cultivation. The unique climate allows for slow ripening, resulting in wines with concentrated flavors, balanced acidity, and remarkable aromas.

Malbec: The Iconic Argentine Wine: When it comes to Argentine wine, one grape variety stands out above all others—Malbec. Originally from France, Malbec found its true home in the fertile soils of Argentina. The country's signature red wine showcases the grape's full potential, with deep purple hues, intense fruit flavors, velvety tannins, and a luscious, lingering finish. OutPour boasts an exquisite selection of Malbecs, ranging from the elegant and refined to the bold and robust, ensuring there's a perfect match for every palate.

Beyond Malbec: A World of Diversity: While Malbec takes center stage, Argentina offers a remarkable array of grape varieties that thrive in its diverse terroirs. OutPour's collection proudly presents a range of wines crafted from other noble grapes such as Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, Bonarda, and Merlot. Each varietal showcases the unique character of the region it hails from, offering a delightful spectrum of flavors and aromas.

Torrontés: The Captivating White Wine: For white wine enthusiasts, OutPour's selection also includes the captivating Torrontés. Indigenous to Argentina, Torrontés is an aromatic grape variety that produces wines with enticing floral notes, vibrant acidity, and a refreshing finish. This aromatic white wine pairs beautifully with seafood, light salads, and spicy cuisine, making it an ideal choice for those seeking a new and exciting wine experience.

Artisanal Excellence and Sustainability: OutPour prides itself on curating a collection of wines that embodies the craftsmanship and dedication of Argentina's winemakers. From small, family-owned vineyards to renowned estates, the wines featured at OutPour represent the passion and artistry of the winemaking process. Many of these producers embrace sustainable practices, preserving the natural resources and ensuring the longevity of Argentina's wine industry.

Experiencing Argentine Wine Culture: At OutPour, it's not just about the wine itself; it's about immersing yourself in the rich wine culture of Argentina. Through tasting events, educational workshops, and expert guidance, OutPour invites wine enthusiasts to delve into the stories behind each bottle and gain a deeper appreciation for Argentina's winemaking heritage. Whether you're a seasoned wine connoisseur or an enthusiastic beginner, OutPour offers an unforgettable journey through Argentina's vinicultural wonders.

Conclusion: OutPour's dedication to offering Argentina's finest wines creates an extraordinary opportunity to explore the vast and diverse world of Argentine winemaking. From the iconic Malbec to other exceptional varietals, each bottle reflects the country's unique terroir and the passion of its winemakers. Embark on a sensory adventure at OutPour, where the finest wines from Argentina await, promising an experience that delights the palate and nourishes the soul.

[leafyeyes417]

I decided to create a masterpost or two with all the reblogs that I like in hopes that when someone sends out the “help me find that post” I can find it faster. It will be added to slowly because I do not have the patience to do it all at once. Also in no particular order of preference.

Keep in mind none of these posts are my works and I do not claim them as such.

If you see *** they are really good prompts with lots of reblogs.

Will be edited later, last updated: 7-21-24

Masterlists

Multi-story masterlists

dcxdpdrabbles

Hdgnj

Tu-turu-turah

Somnoir

Specific Story lists

Jason is Catnip to Danny

Hyena Danny

Finally Getting Help

Wrong Robin

Badger Day

Man has needs

Almanac

Take out for Dummies

Danny is just some guy

Changling AU (part 5, other part links at bottom of post)

Fast Car Driver Danny

Haunted Car

Harmless Series

Don’t eat anything

Hero Tweets

Just a Bite

Single posts

Ellie-centric

Ellie realizes how dangerous Danny’s home is

Danny’s Rescues from the Infinite Realms

Green Lanturn & crew stuck in IR

Dead on Main

Jason courting Danny with a casserole

Overprotective Fenton parents shovel talk

Danny courts Jason by giving him wine cups made from the Joker’s kneecaps

Jason becomes a Ghost Summoner after giving Danny food***

Dream Lover***

Soulmate summoning ring gone wrong

Dead Tired

Coffeeshop accident

Dead Serious

Dead Silent

Danny kills the joker with his thighs

Danny on the run from the GIW

Superman startles Danny and gets a concussion***

Danny In Gotham

Sleepwalker Danny who escapes all traps

Unknowing Fae Danny works at coffee shop

Danny pretends to be a Vampire***

Feral McGee

Danny only gets a Vacation from work in Gotham

Danny seems like an Oracle of Delphi***

The GAV affected by Fear Toxin

Tucker streams while Danny does what Danny does in the background***

Danny is kidnapped(?) by Batman***

Danny gets hired for a money laundering front***

Portal is built in Gotham, not Amity

Naga Danny

Villain Danny

Danny’s obsession is twisted, forcing him to be a villain

Danny teaches heroes their mistakes by being the villain***

Adopted Danny (as in not Bio Fenton)

Danny is Hal Jordan’s son

Harley asks Batman to take away her son

Harvey Dent is Danny’s bio parent

Danny adopted by Bruce Wayne

Danny distribution system

Danny makes a sales pitch to join the Batfam

Reincarnated Danny

They wake up as Talons

Reincarnation

Clockwork reincarnated as Alfred

Misunderstanding’s that end in chaos

High Danny mistakes Batman for Jack

Mis-text-derstanding

Summoning Danny

Number is not in service

Danny: Please get that stalker (Ra’s) away from me

Demon Twin/Brothers

Damian is normal by Amity standards

Maybe(?) his lost twin

Nyssa steals Danny

Danny undercover in Amity

Jazz decided she wanted a brother

Tim Twins/Brothers

Danny and Tim are half-siblings

Danny sleep teleports to another dimension

Jason and Danny are brothers

Jason is a Baby ghost, adopts babier ghost Danny***

Ghost King Danny

Danny needs to take care of the Lazarus pits

Danny finds out there is a Ghost LOA

Miscellaneous

Danny possesses the president

Danny takes Jason’s online cooking class

Danny forgot what is regular human

Jack was a hitman named Phantom

Ghost Calls

Danny & Jason have the same scars

Superman was supposed to wait for the JLD

Water Core Tim

Fenton Driving curse still applies

Danny asks Wonder Woman to make him a grave on Themyscria***

Kryptonite is actually trapped souls

Danny and self-fulfilling prophecy

Danny pretends to be a demigod son of Hades

Danny gifts Red Robin a jar with Ra’s eyes

Vlad Cloning Danny was actually a much worse offense, breaks oldest ghost law

Amity got put back in the wrong place after the Pariah Dark fight.

Jason involuntarily taken to the ghost hospital

Phantom Letters

Danny learns Astral magic

Miscellaneous Angst

GIW succeeds in shooting the portal

DPxMarvel

Loki falls through to the IR and is adopted by Danny

Pure DP (not crossover)

Danny was Eldritch the whole time

Danny gets sprayed with a chemical where he hallucinates the person he hates

Demon!AU (with Art)

[velspicess]

Bentleigh Wine Store: Your Trusted Family-Owned Liquor Destination in Melbourne

For Melbournians seeking a curated selection of quality wines and spirits, look no further than Bentleigh Wine Store. Nestled in Bentleigh East, this family-owned gem has been a go-to for discerning drinkers for years. But Bentleigh Wine Store offers more than just a convenient location – it's a commitment to exceptional customer service, a passion for discovery, and the ease of liquor delivery Melbourne.

A Legacy Built on Quality

Bentleigh Wine Store is a testament to the power of family values. Founded on the belief that everyone deserves access to excellent wines and spirits, the store has grown from strength to strength. The friendly team, many of whom are family members themselves, possess a deep understanding of their customers' preferences. This translates into a personalized shopping experience, where recommendations go beyond generic labels and delve into the nuances of taste and occasion.

Unveiling a World of Flavors

Step inside Bentleigh Wine Store, and you're greeted by a treasure trove of libations. Their shelves brim with an impressive selection of wines, from crisp whites and bold reds to sparkling champagnes and delectable dessert wines. Whether you're a seasoned connoisseur or a curious newcomer, the store caters to every palate. Explore established regions like France, Italy, and Australia, or embark on an adventure with lesser-known wineries. Bentleigh Wine Store champions local heroes, stocking a delightful range of Victorian wines alongside international favorites.

Beyond the Vine: A Spirit for Every Occasion

Wine may be the heart of Bentleigh Wine Store, but their offerings extend far beyond. Their collection of spirits is a curated masterpiece, featuring a wide range of options for every taste and budget. From classic vodkas and smooth whiskeys to exotic liqueurs and artisanal gins, the store caters to cocktail enthusiasts and spirit connoisseurs alike. Need something specific for an upcoming gathering? The knowledgeable staff will help you find the perfect bottle to elevate your event.

The Convenience of Liquor Delivery Melbourne

Life gets busy, but that shouldn't mean sacrificing quality beverages. Bentleigh Wine Store makes it easier than ever to enjoy your favorite drinks at home with their convenient liquor delivery Melbourne service. Simply browse their extensive online selection, choose your desired wines and spirits, and have them delivered straight to your doorstep. This time-saving option is perfect for stocking up for a party, a relaxing night in, or simply replenishing your home bar.

More Than Just a Liquor Store: A Community Hub

Bentleigh Wine Store transcends the boundaries of a mere liquor store. They actively engage with the local community, hosting wine tastings and educational events. These evenings are a fantastic opportunity to sample new vintages, connect with fellow wine enthusiasts, and expand your knowledge of the world of beverages. The friendly staff is always happy to answer questions and share their expertise, fostering a warm and welcoming atmosphere.

The Final Sip

Bentleigh Wine Store is a haven for Melbournians who appreciate quality, convenience, and personalized service. Whether you're a seasoned wine aficionado or just starting your exploration, their friendly staff and curated selection will guide your journey. So, next time you're looking to elevate your next gathering or unwind with a well-deserved drink, head over to Bentleigh Wine Store or browse their online selection for hassle-free liquor delivery Melbourne.

Contact- Web - https://bentleighwinestore.com.au/product/kookaburra-rose/ Mail - info@bentleighwinestore.com.au Ph - 03 9579 4448 Address - 2/251 E Boundary Rd, Bentleigh East VIC 3165, AU

[thefinewinecompany]

The Winemaking Process Behind Your Favorite UK White Wines

Introduction

White wines have become increasingly popular in the UK, captivating wine enthusiasts with their crisp flavors and diverse profiles. Amidst the myriad options available, The Fine Wine Company Ltd stands out as a trusted source for quality wines, offering a curated selection that reflects the artistry of winemaking.

Types of White Wines in the UK

As wine aficionados know, the world of white wines is incredibly diverse. From the citrusy notes of Sauvignon Blanc to the buttery richness of Chardonnay, the UK has embraced a variety of white wine styles. The Fine Wine Company Ltd, as wine merchants, takes pride in presenting a collection that showcases the unique characteristics of each variety.

The Vineyard Journey

The journey of a white wine begins in the vineyard, where factors like location and climate play a crucial role. The Fine Wine Company Ltd carefully selects vineyards with optimal conditions for cultivating grapes that will contribute to the exceptional quality of their wines. The choice of grape varieties is equally vital, ensuring they are suited for the production of high-quality white wines.

Harvesting: A Pivotal Moment

Timing is everything in winemaking, especially when it comes to harvesting white wine grapes. The Fine Wine Company Ltd emphasizes the significance of handpicking, a meticulous process that ensures only the finest grapes make their way into the production process. This attention to detail contributes to the superior quality of the wines they offer.

The Art of Crushing and Pressing

Once harvested, the delicate grapes undergo a gentle crushing process. The Fine Wine Company Ltd recognizes the importance of this step in preserving the nuanced flavors of the grapes. Different pressing methods are employed to extract the juice without compromising the integrity of the grapes, resulting in a vibrant and flavorful base for the wine.

Fermentation Magic

Fermentation is where the alchemy of winemaking truly takes place. The Fine Wine Company Ltd meticulously controls fermentation temperatures to bring out the best in each batch of white wine. This careful process ensures that the flavors develop harmoniously, creating a balanced and enjoyable drinking experience.

Maturation in Barrels

Maturation is a transformative period for white wines. The Fine Wine Company Ltd carefully selects barrels that complement and enhance the unique characteristics of each wine. The duration of maturation is a crucial factor, influencing the final taste, aroma, and overall complexity of the wine.

Blending: Crafting Complexity

The art of blending is where winemakers showcase their expertise. The Fine Wine Company Ltd skillfully blends different batches, creating a white wine that is greater than the sum of its parts. This process allows for the crafting of a complex and layered flavor profile that distinguishes their wines.

Filtration and Bottling

Prior to bottling, white wines undergo filtration to remove any remaining sediments. The Fine Wine Company Ltd understands the importance of this step in ensuring clarity and purity in the final product. Bottling techniques are carefully chosen to preserve the integrity of the wine, allowing it to mature further in the bottle.

Quality Assurance and The Fine Wine Company Ltd

Quality is paramount in every step of the winemaking process, and The Fine Wine Company Ltd is dedicated to upholding the highest standards. Their commitment to excellence ensures that each bottle they offer is a testament to the craftsmanship and passion behind the winemaking art.

The Convenience of Online Wine Stores

For consumers, the journey from vineyard to glass is made even more enjoyable by the convenience of online wine stores. The Fine Wine Company Ltd, as an online wine store, provides a seamless experience for enthusiasts to explore and order wines from the comfort of their homes. This accessibility adds an extra layer of enjoyment to the entire wine appreciation process.

Conclusion

In conclusion, the winemaking process behind your favorite UK white wines is a fascinating journey of artistry and precision. The Fine Wine Company Ltd, as wine experts, brings this journey to your doorstep, offering a selection that embodies the passion and dedication of winemakers. As you explore the world of UK white wines, consider the intricate process that transforms grapes into the delightful elixirs that grace your glass. Cheers to the art of winemaking!

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Gator's Girl (18+)

Ex-bf!Gator Tillman x Fem!Reader

word count:2,349

Warnings:Smut, talks of past toxic behaviours, Car sex, Dirty talk, Gator being rough with reader, possessiveness,

Masterlist

You sipped your drink, the ice clinking against the glass as you brought it to your lips. You had been waiting patiently at the bar for your date to arrive. Online dating wasn't something you had tried ever before, convinced that it just wasn't the thing for you, but one too many white wines after work a few weeks ago had brought you to where you were now, checking the door every time the bell jingled as people came and went.

Your last relationship hadn't ended well, he was the town’s sheriff, who drove past your flower shop nearly everyday on his morning patrol. One day he came in asking you which bouquet of flowers would be the best for a first date, and you’d told him that he couldn’t go far wrong with a bouquet of red roses, which after paying for them, he handed them back to you asking you to meet him for a drink that Saturday night. Things had been fun for a while, he was sweet to you and the sexual chemistry was electric, but it didn’t take long before his jealous streak began to rear its ugly head. He would question who you were hanging out with and would sneer menacingly at anybody who so much as glanced in your direction. Then there were the night's where he would text you to say he was staying late at work, but he'd come to you smelling like another woman's perfume. There was only so much you're willing to put up with.

And so that’s when you decided to end things with him. 

But here you are now, single and looking for some fun. Awaiting the arrival of your date. You take another sip of your drink, the alcohol doing a very good job of helping to settle your jangled nerves. 

“Well well well, look who it is.”

You turn around at the sound of a low voice chuckling over your shoulder, but your stomach drops when you see exactly whose voice it is.

“Gator.” You say firmly. 

Ah yes, the ex-boyfriend in question.

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this, huh?” He snarks, sitting himself down in the stool next to yours. “You're dressed up pretty fancy for a Friday night, don't ‘ya think?” he leers, his eyes raking up your exposed legs as you fight to tug at the hemline of your shorter than usual dress.

“You expecting company tonight, Petal?” He asks, taking a swig from his own beer bottle. 

The mention of his old pet name for you makes an appearance for the first time tonight. Only it doesn't make you swoon in the same way it used to. Now it just fills you with disgust. 

“You can't call me that, I’m not your girl anymore, Gator. You lost that privilege when you started sleeping around on me.”

“So who's the lucky guy?”

“That's none of your business.” You snip back, flashing your eyes to your phone's screen. It's almost an hour past the time your date said he would be here, and your stomach sinks for the second time tonight when you realise that your date isn't coming. 

Gator catches the glint of embarrassment in your eyes, he's still able to read you like a fucking book, and a smirk pulls at his pink lips. 

“Looks like you've been stood up.” he smirks, “How ‘bout I keep ‘ya company for tonight, huh? I know you miss me, Petal.”

“Yeah you wish, Tillman.” you scoff back, addressing him by his surname. Two could play that game, sheriff.

“Come on, I know you miss me. You miss me on those long, and lonely nights. Your fingers don't touch you the way mine did, do they? You can't satisfy yourself the way I can, just admit it, you miss me.”

Whilst you hate how much he's getting under your skin, even more you hate the fact that he's one hundred percent right. You'd had a few meaningless hookups after you'd broken up with Gator, each one leaving you unsatisfied and reaching for your vibrator, but it just wasn't the same. No matter how bad things got with Gator, there was always that undeniable spark of sexual chemistry between you. Screaming fights that ended with dominating kisses, nails leaving indents in each other's skin, and fiercely charged sex.

“You know what, I think I’m just going to call an uber and head home.” you say, finishing off your drink before gathering your jacket from the back of the bar stool.

“Let me take you home.” Gator says as he follows you out of the bar. “My car’s just a block away. You don’t know what kind of trouble a girl like you could get yourself into, people around here can be real shady, trust me I’ve locked half of them up already.”

You weigh up your options, waiting out in the cold in your short dress looking out for a car for 15 minutes, or walking the block with your ex boyfriend whilst he drives you home. 

“Alright sheriff, take me to your car.”

“Come on then, ‘atta girl.”

The ride to your house is filled with the music playing from the car radio, keeping your eyes trained on the dusty road ahead. 

There’s an air of thick tension between you. You know he wants to say something to you, his fingers are drumming on the leather of his steering wheel, and his eyes keep flicking over to where you’re sitting in the passenger seat.

“You hoping to score some meat-head guy to go home with, huh?” 

“And what if I was? It’s not like we’re dating anymore, so I don’t have to run every detail of my life by you, Gator.” you bite back.

“I’d forgotten how much of a mouthy brat you could be.” he chuckles darkly.

“Yeah, well you just know how to push all my buttons, don’t you.”  you huff.

There’s a beat of silence once more before Gator speaks up again.

“It’s probably a good thing that you got stood up.” he starts. “It’s not like that guy would’ve known what to do with you anyway. You would’ve got three pumps outta him if you’re lucky. The way I see it is I’m just saving you from having to do the walk of shame, Sweets.”

 Gator’s hand soon travels from resting on-top the gear shift stick, to creeping over to rest on your knee.

You didn't brush his hand away, you knew what game he was playing, and after being stood up and denied a night of mindless sex, you were all too ready to play along with his little game.

His hand keeps inching higher and higher, slowly creeping its way up your thigh. The roughness of his fingertips skimming the soft skin until he’s edging close to the skirt of your dress.

“I bet if I pulled your panties over you’d be wet for me, wouldn’t you.” he says, with his voice almost as rough as his touch.

“And what if I told you I’m not wearing any panties?” you challenge with a quick raise of your eyebrows.

“fuck it” he curses before pulling the car off to the side of the road.

“What's the matter Gator, thought you were taking me home?” You ask, all too sweet and innocent, twirling a strand of hair between your fingers.

“Yeah, and I thought you were a good girl, but we both know that's not quite true, is it Petal?” He says, turning his dark hazel eyes to you. “No, because you're not good, are you? No, you're just a little slut, looking for a good fucking.”

“You’re all talk, you know that Tillman?” you goad. You could tell by the way he was looking at you that he was close to breaking, and if you played your cards right you might just get what you wanted.

“This is your last chance to back down, because if we do this, I’m going to fuck you like the whore that you are.” he says, fixing you with that intimidating stare. 

“I want this, I want you, Gator.” you nod, giving him a knowing stare of your own.

“That’s what I wanna hear.” his voice gravels out as he grips your chin between his fingers and presses his lips against yours in a bruising kiss. “Now, get in the back seat, because I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

You quickly scramble to the empty space in the back of Gator’s car, making yourself as comfortable as you can in the small space, lying your back down on the leather seats.

As you lie there, Gator makes his way to you from the side door, opening it to see you eagerly awaiting his next move.

He unbuckles his belt, and drags his zipper down before pulling down his pants and boxers down just enough to free his cock. Bringing his hand up to his lips he spits crudely into his palm, using his spit-slick fist to jerk his cock to full attention. His hand strokes up and down his cock, coasting over every thick inch of him, his pink tip glistening with sticky pre-cum as it pokes through his fist.

“Are you gonna fuck me or not, Sheriff?” you tease, waiting to see his reaction. 

And sure enough you get it. A growled response as he stalks his way over to you in the cramped space in the backseat of his car.

“You're gonna regret getting so bratty with me, Petal.” 

And then in one swift movement he's turning your body over so that you’re lying stomach down across the spread of the backseats. 

“Face down, Ass up. Just the way I like ‘em” he says with a growl of approval, stinging a quick slap to the plump flesh of your ass, guiding his cock to your pussy and using his slick tip to trace the shape of your lips.

 He’s pressing his body over yours, teasing his dripping cock at your entrance, and the heat flaring in your stomach burns with the anticipation for what lies ahead. 

“Look at you, so wet already and I've hardly touched ‘ya. Bet I could just slide into this tight little cunt with no problem.” 

Then the tip of his cock is no longer teasing you. It’s pressing against your opening as you spread your legs apart as much as you can to accommodate him.

The once familiar feeling of his thick cock filling you to the hilt comes back to you all at once. His calloused hands find their home on your hips, holding you in a bruising grip as he begins his relentless thrusting. Drawing his hips back, pulling out almost all the way before slamming back into you with practised ease. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, you feel so fuckin’ good.” he grits out through clenched teeth, reveling in the way every ridge of your pussy glides over his cock. “This is my pussy. Mine. Nobody else gets to have you like this. Taking my fuckin’ cock like it’s the only thing you’re good for.” he groans, running his mouth the way he always does.

And you fucking love it. His words were claiming and possessive, but in the heat of the moment, they were everything you wanted to hear.

You try to hold yourself up as he hits the sweet spot inside you every single time, and it’s all you can do to stop yourself from sinking into the leather seats. 

One of his hands that’s gripping your hips travels up the length of your body until it’s framing the column of your throat. Not squeezing, but giving just the lightest touch of pressure to make you feel dizzy with pleasure. Your eyes glazing over with glassy tears bubbling in your eyelashes.

“Oh my god, Gator…you’re so big..making me feel so full..” you whine, practically drunk on him. Drunk on wanting the man you know you shouldn’t want. 

“That’s my good fucking girl.”

The knot in the pit of your stomach ties itself ever tighter, as he continues to rut himself into you with reckless abandon. You know he’s getting close too, you can tell by the way his movements falter with stuttered thrusts.

“Come..Come inside me..Please..” you beg, letting the desperate tears fall from your eyes, mascara streaks tracking down your cheeks.

“You always were such a slut for my cum, Princess.” he chuckles as he drives his hips into you.

In one final thrust he buries himself to the hilt inside the tight clench of your cunt as both of you reach your highs. He spills into you, holding still as the waves of pleasure roll over your bodies.

When the dust settles, and you feel like you can breathe again you hear a hiss from over your shoulder as he slowly pulls out, leaving the evidence of his indiscretion to drip down your thighs. He tucks himself back into his jeans and swipes a big hand through his mussed hair.

“Pull your skirt back, and sit tight, I’m not finished with you yet.” he says to you as he makes his way back around to the driver’s seat at the front.

You brace yourself over the headrests of the front seats, leaning over to where he’s sat, with the pinkish flush still gracing his freckled cheeks.

“What’s the matter, Gator? You're not gonna take me home anymore?” you tease, your breath kissing the shell of his ear.

“You’re coming home with me, I didn’t get the chance to eat your pussy since you were being such a brat, and you know better than anyone that I always get what I want.” he says confidently, turning his head towards you to capture lips once more, slipping his tongue in to dance with yours. 

Hooking up with the town’s sheriff and ex-boyfriend probably wasn’t the smartest idea in the world, but that was a problem that you’d be willing to face in the morning if just for tonight you could be Gator’s girl once more. 

@penguinsandpotterheads @sweetdreamjellybean @mrsjellymunson @userchai @sidereustales @daisy-is-a-writer @wroteclassicaly

[natewriteslol]

Creepy Crawlers

Summary: You and your college roommates decided to play a fun game of ouiji board. But what do you do when the devil wishes to make a deal for freedom? Will you be able to reach ends meet and be free from this malignant spirit, or will you be forced to join him amongst the ranks in hell?

Demon!Cater x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: talk of demons, pain, horror themes

It was a hazy Friday afternoon and you were head over heels excited to head to your apartment after a long day of work. Your roommate, Vil had just finished his classes at his university and you had gotten off of work from the coffee shop. You were both waiting for Kalim to head home from his mother’s house. She always got lonely when her son was gone for too long, so he had been gone for about 3 days, spending quality time with his mother. 

Mesmerized by your phone, you finally snapped out of the trance once you heard the familiar knocking pattern from Kalim, you and Vil welcomed him back home as he energetically started catching you guys up on what he was up too back in his home country. You both had aided in assisting him with all of the baked goods and gifts that he was given by his family. But once he got to unpacking different trinkets his mother gave to him, Kalim had brought out some sort of board? 

You and Vil had glanced at one another before breaking the ice.

“Uh...Kalim, what is that?” your blonde roommate inquired, pointing at the box. It was a deep wine red, with black, bold letters in a slightly curled font.

‘Ouija, Mystifying Oracle: Look into the Unknown for your Answers or Desires.’

You grew anxious, you didn’t know too much about ouija boards, but you sure knew enough to not mess around with them. 

“C’mon guys, why not just try it out? You’re telling me when you were kids you didn’t play around with stuff like this?” Kalim asked, excitedly taking the board out of the box onto your apartment floor. He found the directions, attempting to read the letters that were enscribed in ink on the paper, but they were far too faded to even be legible.

“You have completely different ideas of fun from Y/N and I,” Vil retorted, looking completely turned off from even glancing at the board. Yet as Kalim messed with the board, it caught more of his attention, keeping an eye on the object and not saying a word. Which in the blink of an eye, Vil had negated the dangers of the board by continuing on with, “But... I’m no chicken, I’ll play. What about you, Y/N?”

You felt immense pressure as you couldn’t fumble this. Your two roommates who you're on the brink of reaching friend status want to play a game, you can’t just leave them in the dust and be the one odd one out from a possible bonding experience.

You gave a quick nod and that was all they needed to proceed with the game.

They laid out the ouija board flat on the ground, rubbing off the dust from the red board. It was no cheap looking ouija board you get from Toys R. Us, you observed that from the black letters engraved on the red board with all the letters of the alphabet. Of course the wooden planchet followed the theme as well, a dark red with a petite glass bulb in the middle. 

"I can’t find this thing anywhere on the web” Vil inquired as he scrolled on his phone, scratching his head looking for directions online. 

“Yeah, but that’s what makes this one more unique!” Kalim cheered, excited to start playing, his palms on each side of the board as he talked to the princely blonde in front of him.

It was strange, they almost seem entranced by this game, it wasn't complete obsession but it was certaintly out of the ordinary for both of them. Kalim always was afraid of horror, wanting you to turn off movies when he was in your company and Vil would never make a decision this "stupid". The look in their eyes was just odd, they couldn't rip their eyes away from this thing...

And soon enough, neither would you as soon as your eyes laid on this board you were transfixed on playing.

You laid your fingers on the board, unfortunately becoming the leader for this session after drawing straws with your two roommates. 

“Go on, ask some questions,” Kalim urged with a smile, adjusting his fingers on the board.

“Uhm, what’s your name?” You questioned, awaiting for the chip to start sliding. The letters started moving, making all three of you freak out, you couldn’t tell if they were playing some type of trick on you but you felt extremely afraid regardless. 

C.

D.

“CD?” you asked, confused on what type of name that would be. 

“Maybe, it’s the initials? ,” Vil suggested, staring at the board, trying to gauge some form of sense from it. 

“Whatever, just keep asking questions,” Kalim said, trying to get some more fun energy flowing, which had always been something he excelled at. 

“Okay, let’s ask something only we would know. What is Kalim’s favorite color?”

G.

R.

A.

Y.

“Listen, if you guys want to play a bit on me that’s cool, but I kinda wanted to see if it would work by itself,” Kalim pouted, looking disappointed in you both. 

“Kalim, I thought your favorite color was light blue?” Vil asked quirking up an eyebrow, as they had this conversation only two weeks ago. 

“Yeah but…I changed my mind only a couple of days ago…” Kalim answered, he had never told anyone about his change in opinion. 

“Okay, I guess than put something down only you would know, not anyone else '' Vil suggested, and both of you complied. 

“What is the color of the bag under my bed?”

“Which customer always orders the frappe, carmel drizzle on the side, cinnamon sprinkle on top, with an espresso pump?”

“What did my art teacher assign for homework last night?”

Black striped.

Mrs. Han.

Essay. Da Vinci. 

“No fucking way, are you sure you guys aren’t playing a prank on me? Y/N, I put that bag under my bed two days ago. Did you go snooping?” 

“Vil, I’ve been too tired from work to go and look at what's under your bed. I haven’t set a foot in there since last week when I told you to vacuum,” you answered, completely honest with your hands by your head in defense, almost offended at such accusations.

“I’m the only one besides you who has a good memory, but there’s no way I could remember all that shit. I-I only remember events, not orders,” Kalim said, his voice wavering.

“You weren’t even home to talk about what homework you had assigned last night," Vil looked, a tone of disbelief and shock lining his voice.

It all seemed too real, so you decided to ask something you had never told anyone except for your family. The reason why you even moved from your old complex. 

“Mrs. Jameson...she died, what was her room number?”

1.

2.

3.

All of a sudden, the vintage alarm clock that sat on the quaint stand near your couch struck 12:30am. So did the grandfather clock Kalim thrifted ages ago, both of which you didn’t even know could make noise. 

You both rushed to turn it off so you wouldn’t disrupt anyone in the complex since it was already close to 1 am, the rancorous groan echoed through your apartment, completely snapping you two out of your trance.

You finally pulled the lever on the side that silenced elderly clock. But your peace did not last for long, you soon heard a heavy crash. Sounding as though all of your windows had broken and all the glasses in your cabinets had descended on your kitchen floor. All three of you picked yourselves off of the floor rushing to the kitchen, only to see absolutely nothing. 

You had all attempted to locate a source of the noise, this whole event made you so irritated and frightened that you couldn't pin point a source as to who or what was causing this torment. It couldn't be that this phantom was real, that shit only happens in movies after all.

Except as you searched throughout the room, your eyes noticed something on the ground. The paper was worn out parchment with vermillion ink reading the numbers 123. 

Freaked out from this "coincidence", you quickly dropped it on the floor, the paper then slowly started to singe, becoming only a small particles of black on the ground right before all of you. 

You didn't stick around for long and neither did the two boys, as you all knew you had to get out of this house for if you had stayed who knows what would happen to the three of you.

Which lead you to the nearest burger joint to discuss plans, and possibly how to fix this at 2am. Kalim took responsibility for paying for a baptism from a priest, while Vil pointed out the mistakes your group had made over burgers, nuggets and fries even though he too had participated.

Once the baptism had commenced a couple of days later, Kalim and Vil felt as though the weight had been lifted off of their shoulders. The weird happenings like open cabinets, broken dishes, your computer turning on by itself, the lights flickering on and off had completely stopped.

There was no more evil in your home, yet why were you still haunted? 

It wasn’t complete anxiety, you were never looking over your shoulder to see what was going on, but something just felt off. You were having strange dreams of the same night of playing the ouiji board, except you were all alone. However you just toughed it out, and blamed it on nerves. 

Three months later.

Vil’s courses at his university had gotten a lot more rigorous, he was spending more time at the library to the point it became a second home. While Kalim had been swaddled with work at the art emporium his parent's owned, needing to adopt some responsibility for one of the many family businesses they owned. So for the time being, you were left alone for an extensive amount of time, yet it seemed as if someone were always there, no matter what. 

Just watching...you.

But it was all just nerves, right?

Maybe some creep from an apartment building over was watching you?

But you had absolutely no time to be worrying over things that were all in your head, as you were in a financial pickle to say the least, You were working a shift at the coffee shop, “The Barista’s” . It was an incredibly packed and fast day and you were working front and center, and like always you were understaffed. The order was an online order, which requested a coffee, totally black which was a little out of the regular since but there was no time to pass judgement and it had made your life easier. Who were you to complain?

Once you finished you looked over at the second coworker on your shift and asked her for the order name to put on the cup to call out into the crowd. 

“Oh, um it’s CD? That’s it.”

Your eyes shot open wide, looking at the screen of placed online orders, your eyes scrolling down to the latest one.

Damien- 12:30pm

Amy- 12: 45 pm

Jamie- 1:00pm

Maria- 1:12pm

CD- 1:23pm 

No fucking way. This had to be some sick prank maybe from the guys. You never talked to anyone but them about this, not wanting to spread word or make you look crazy and alongside be made fun of for your ignorant mistake of playing that game period. It seemed as though this force had become upset that you wouldn’t acknowledge their existence enough, becoming insistent and infringing on your life. Afterall, how dare you blame this damage on nerves? 

A man came inside, you felt a shiver down your spine, he was dressed in all black, a button up with black pants and boots to match, adorning black circle sunglasses. It felt like he was concealing something, the way he moved seemed ominous and calculated. 

He smirked once he caught your gaze, you both knew that you were afraid, afraid to call out the two letters on that damn cup.

“Order for…C.D?” 

The man rose up from his seat, ready to grab his coffee that you left on the counter to avoid contact with him. 

“Thank you, Y/N,” he said in a honeyed voice, and right as you instinctively turned around.

There was no trace of him, he had vanished into thin air. 

 Not one customer had called you by name today, not even the sweet old ladies that make sure to call you by it when placing their orders. Whilst getting ready today you had been neglectful of the lack of weight on your chest, quickly realizing why.

You had forgotten to wear your nametag today. 

So how did that complete stranger know your name?

Timeskip

You had gotten off of work at 6:30pm, and your roommates hadn't gotten home yet and probably wouldn't for at least two hours. As you slipped your key into the hole and unlocked your door, you felt an icy breeze hit your face. It was near summer, yet this room managed to be frozen over in temperature. You had turned on the lights, the yellowed lighting bringing you slight ease.

Yet it felt as though there was a presence in the room with you, it was unnerving and unbearable. It had been this way for months, yet it showed no sign of stopping and you grew tired of this never ending feeling. It was isolating that you were the only person within your apartment to feel this way, with Kalim and Vil only giving you a "no" to asking them if they feel anxious. You couldn't stand driving yourself insane so, against all of your best judgement you decided to face your feelings head on. 

“Listen, I know I’m not alone in this house. Show yourself to me, now,” you commanded, yet your voice seemed to betray you. Wavering in tone and assertiveness, exposing your true feelings of being afraid and overwhelmed. The ceiling above you started to creek and moan, almost testing the waters of your nerves.

“I know it’s you…C.D.” 

The ground began to rumble and quiver, the lights once bringing a reassuring light shook alongside it. You grew completely terrified, falling to the floor, catching yourself with your own hands as lightbulbs crackled and hissed as they hit the wooden floors, leaving you in complete darkness.  

The only safe haven that allowed you to see in this abyss of your apartment is right where you were standing. A gray light above your head, only providing a circle of illumination where you stood.  

“You are quite brave, I'll give you that, human.” 

A pure black hand with nails as sharp and long as knives, gripped your wrist from the pool of darkness surrounding you. Screaming, you shook and wriggled your arm fiercely allowing the grip of the hand off of you. Your resistance had made the demon cackle. 

“W-who are you?” you exasperated, clutching onto your wrist wrung with red marks from the struggle. 

“You already know my name, you summoned me after all,” the darkness retorted.

“What...What do you want?!” you asked, trying your best to appear tough, despite shaking from fear.

“Ah, so many questions... but I’m willing to answer. It’s something that all demons from hell crave-,” the demon said, letting the vintage radio Kalim had bought two weeks ago finish. 

“A soul,” the old timey voice sang from the fuzzy speaker making the demon giggle. 

“Isn’t it funny how we can do that? I think it’s a great party trick” the archfiend jested, “hoping” that you would agree. As the creature of darkness joked, the voice began to inch closer and closer. There was no way to run from whoever this thing was.

“Now, mortal I will give you two decisions. One; you may surrender your soul to me your soul. Or you must subject yourself to a long lasting search and you get me my memories,” the shadowed room stated. 

“What happens if I get you your memories?” you asked, most definitely wanting to keep your soul. 

“Well, I am proclaimed innocent, no longer needing to serve the underworld and I am free. You see, my family was cursed by an ancient witch, and every single son within the family is doomed to spend their days in hell. Once you get to hell, you have all of your memory wiped and it is manifested into actual items on Earth,” this spirit C.D explained to you from the shadows. “If you manage to get all seven of these items, we’ll both be free. Fail, I get your soul, I stay in hell.” 

Weighing your options, you realized that they both ended with you losing. But even if you had the slightest chance of winning, you’re going to take it. 

“I...will help you find your memories,” you said hesitantly, making him laugh. 

You could hear the smirk extend on his lips, he was highly entertained with your act of resistance. It was surprising and in a sadistic way, a great form of amusement for him. "Hm...very well then, mortal. Extend your hand, we need to shake on it for it to become an actual done deal,” C.D explained, making his elongated, obsidian stained hand into your circle.

You took his hand into yours, shaking it only for a couple of seconds only for you to feel a painful burn on your wrist where his fingers lay. You were tattooed with the numbers “123” on your wrist with a shade darker of your skintone. 

“What did you do to me?!” you exclaimed, holding your wrist once more, an electrifying pain seeping throughout your arm. 

“You need my vision in order to see the artifacts. And don’t worry too much, only you can see the marking and can make others see it if you wish. It’ll go away once our deal is done,” the demon explained, thinking that it was quite obvious.

“Oh, and it’s also a part of the deal that I have to live in this home so-”

“No fucking way you’re staying here in my house,” you growled angrily, completely exasperated from this ordeal of horror.

“Woah, woah, woah I’m not the one whose soul is on the line here. I don’t need to eat or drink anything so I rarely do it. And again same rules apply, if you want to let Thing One and Thing Two see me then you can. If you want to keep this a secret, then again, you can,” CD snapped back.

“But, why C.D and why this damn number?” you asked, staring down at your wrist.

 There was a silence in the room before C.D answered, “It was my lucky number... supposed to be angel number when I get to heaven. Whenever you see it, just know that I’m around somewhere. And C.D is a nickname, the only thing the devil left me was my name from when I was a human, Cater. Cater Diamond.” 

There was a snap, light had entered your apartment completely. The once popped lightbulbs were restored back to normal, alongside with other disturbed items like picture frames and furniture. There was no sign of the body that belonged to the voice that was speaking to you.

Only once you turned around to see him in his human form sitting on the small black sofa in the corner. Spooked by his presence as you let out a yelp, it made him let out a chuckle. 

“Now, we have a deal, don’t we?” He asked for the final time, making you nod your head. 

The demon lowered his blacked out sunglasses, revealing his amber-colored eyes.

“Excellent. It was good doing business with you, Y/N.” 

~~~

Coming soon- Chapter Two: A New Roommate

Let me know if you want to be in the taglist! This was fun to write and I hope I can create more content for you guys :D<3

[notsosubtlequeer]

Happy holidays! @cowboy-bec I hope you like it <3

This was such a fun prompt to work with so thank you so much for letting me write for you. I got a bit sappy with it.

This was made for @phandomgiftexchange their event!

Here's the A03 link. Under the cut is the full fic as well. Merry Christmas <3

Something Precious

(1639 words)

“Hey, skink, look at this.”

They're curled up on the cream sofa in their living room, the thing large and intentionally selected for their long limbs to fit comfortably on.

They're sat pressed against each other in the very corner in spite of all of this. Dan is practically in Phil's lap as they both look at their phones.

Dan is watching a documentary on a species of seabirds, the commentator's voice drifting through their living room.

Phil as he tends to be, is scrolling his socials and trying to catch up on what their fanbase has been saying.

Now, he's shoving his phone into Dan's face, almost knocking it into his nose with the force of it all.

Dan, eyes squinting at the offending light-mode twitter layout, sees a piece of fan art.

He almost brushes it off as another sister Daniel piece when he looks again.

It's Phil. Dressed up in a nun costume not unlike the one he had in a bag in the back of his closet. The thigh high stockings and garter belts sketched onto art-Phil are different though. And so is the choker around his neck.

It looks nice. It's a good piece of art and nothing they haven't seen before.

“That's a cool drawing bub,” he mutters, already slumping back down to get back into his previous position of Phil's chin jabbing his temple as he lies against his chest.

He is stopped by Phil pushing the phone into his face gently.

The tip of his nose touches the screen and the image zooms in on the exposed thigh of art-Phil.

“It… would look good on you?” he tries.

Things like this are a little bit of a guessing game with Phil sometimes. Not that he minds. Far from it even.

“You think so?” comes the soft reply, and Dan knows he's cracked the code.

-

Despite Dan’s insistence on them being the exact same size, they know Phil won't fit comfortably into the Sister Daniel costume.

So, Dan goes on a hunt.

Many online shops that only ship to America and dodgy websites full of things he's decidedly NOT looking for later, he ends up with a decent selection.

He shows Phil when they're sitting on the couch a few days later, pasta with white sauce on deep plates carefully balanced on their laps. On a side table next to him, Dan has got a glass of red wine, while Phil has a glass of ribena he pinky promised Dan he wouldn't spill.

“What do you think of this one bub?”

Phil's fork pauses halfway to his mouth and he makes wide eyes at the costume Dan is showing him.

The woman who's wearing it looks into the camera with a sultry expression and Phil feels the need to avoid her eyes.

“I have some accessories too. Like in the drawing. Only if you want of course.”

There's silence then as he patiently waits for Phil to get his thoughts together. He knows how confusing and scary the whole gender expression ordeal is, and he knows that whatever Phil wants to accomplish with this new little adventure of his, Dan wants to make sure they get it right.

“I think that one would look nice yeah,” comes the soft reply from Phil, barely above a whisper as he studies the costume.

“I like the layers on the skirt.”

“You'd look so pretty, bub.”

“Hmmm. You think so?”

They chat quietly for a while as Dan shows Phil the accessories, and the latter agrees with every single piece he’s presented with, his skin tinged a light pink when it comes to picking a collar from Dan’s preferred selection.

After the conversation, they continue with their evening, sitting so close their thighs press against each other lightly and Phil's arm jostles when Dan moves, almost spilling the Ribena.

They talk about it again right before Dan places the orders. But for now it still feels light. Like another thing they're trying just because they can. Just because when it's just them, none of it feels heavy or strange, because how could it?

-

It's two weeks later and Dan has been kicked out of their bedroom.

He waits patiently. Busying himself with putting away the dishes and wiping the counter and table free of the few crumbs gathered there since morning.

He's about to get the bag of coffee beans out to refill their machine when Phil calls out to him.

“Can you come in here?”

He sounds small. And when Dan walks up the stairs and into their bedroom he looks it, too.

The expression on his partner's face iwas something timid and frightened, vulnerable and raw.

He's stood in just his pants, arms wrapped around his naked waist and eyes searching for Dan's.

Dan wanted to gather him up in his arms and protect him. Pepper his face with kisses until his eyes lose the fear that's swirling around in them.

“Hey bub,” he says instead. He walks over to where Phil is standing next to the bed. All the items that had arrived today are laid out neatly on the sheets.

“What's happening?”

“It's stupid but. I'm scared? Clothes aren't scary but…”

“Not stupid,” Dan replies automatically, and reaches past Phil to pick up the nun costume of the bed.

It's slightly more frilly than Dan's and has a few layers to the skirt. There's a hole in the shape of a heart right on the chest of the dress and Dan can already imagine running his hands over the milky white skin that would be peeking out of it.

“Let me help you?”

He gets a nod in return from Phil and then he's kneeling, the costume held in such a way that Phil can step into it easily.

His hands brush Phil's legs gently as he moves the garment up his body, quietly instructing him to hold it in place while he gets up and moves around so he can do up the zipper on Phil's back.

The moment is quiet and there's warmth roaring through Dan's chest like an inferno. Urging him on to touch, to kiss, to keep safe.

So he does.

He noses into Phil's hair as he does up the zipper of the costume. Presses a warm kiss on the junction of his shoulder and neck as he fastens the clip to keep the zipper in place.

Sneaks his arms around Phil’s waist as soon as he's done just holding him close.

“Dan,” Phil hums, voice dripping with fondness and sweet like honey.

“You look so pretty, love.”

Phil's face, neck and ears are flushed a lovely pink when Dan moves away to grab the other items still laid out on the bed.

The gloves are next, he helps Phil slip them on, fingers trailing over soft skin and barely-there freckles as he adjusts the elastic fabric. It digs slightly into the skin of Phil's forearms and Dan zeros in on it for such a long time that Phil slaps his arm playfully and tells him to get on with it.

Phil puts on the stockings himself, tracing the black cross embroidered onto the material before reaching for the next item.

Once everything is done, he looks up at Dan, who had been hovering by the closet rummaging through the barely used makeup supplies he had laying around.

“I was thinking some eyeshadow might be nice,” Phil says. And there's still the nervous edge to his voice but there's something else now too. Something fond and familiar. And Dan feels the inferno in his chest roaring to new heights.

“Okay,” he says simply, and he takes out a makeup palette.

Hovering over Phil like this, his face so open and trusting as Dan gently puts a bit of black eyeshadow on his lids, makes the inferno in his chest blaze to never before seen heights.

It's the trust of it all, he thinks.

It's how Phil from 5 years ago would have shrunk away at the very thought of putting on a dress as a joke, let alone as something more.

And it is.

There's something else underneath all of this that isn't just nerves for a jokey Instagram post.

The something that makes Phil's fingers shake when he tugs at the hem of the skirt.

The something that made his laugh bubble out of him, bright and unfiltered, as he looks at the slightly messy smokey eye Dan had given him.

The something that now, as the costume is fully complete, makes him wrap his arms around Dan's neck and lean into him.

Dan's own arms circle Phil's waist as if it's second nature and they sway gently. Standing pressed close together in the silence of their bedroom.

“We made it. Didn't we?”

It's a nonsense phrase that should have Dan confused.

But then he thinks about the time Phil tried makeup and he'd come into their lounge crying because he couldn't make it look right.

Then he thinks about a 19 year old boy in Manchester looking at the women's section in a clothing store and feeling a pang of jealousy at the amount of options they had.

Then he thinks about messily painted nails and makeup palettes long abandoned because he was too scared to use them. About the skirts that got sent their way for a ‘viewers pick my outfit’ video.

About how, when he'd first put on the sister Daniel costume, he'd felt like a part of his brain that was constantly screaming had suddenly gone quiet.

He'd felt sexy for the first time in a long long time and had felt open enough to share it with the world.

And then he thinks about Phil, and the paths they walked together, and he gets it.

“Yeah. We made it bub.”

[haybalesblog]

The Allure of the Red Wine Bag

I've recently developed a serious craving for "red wine" colored handbags. They're popping up all over my feed, and I can't get enough of them! I think my fascination began with the gorgeous Saint Laurent "Le 5 à 7 Mini YSL Shoulder Bag in Patent Leather." While it's undeniably stunning, its $1,850 USD price tag puts it firmly out of my reach. So, I've set out to find more budget-friendly options that offer a similar look.

vvvvv

-> Dupe Dupe Dupe

Let's start with a shoutout to DHGate for this amazing deal! This bag is listed for $44.46 USD, and with a $14.67 shipping fee, the total comes to just $59.13. That's a significant saving compared to the original! Keep in mind that this is the seller's listing photo, not a picture of the actual product you'll receive. However, based on the reviews, I'm optimistic. As always, when buying from DHGate, I recommend contacting the seller directly to request photos of the real merchandise before purchasing.

https://sale.dhgate.com/o5FeXi16

This is an excellent option if you are wanting a dupe, but not everyone wants a dupe, and so we continue to the next options I have for you.

-> Inspired bags

Starting off with a strong contender, I have for you the "JW PEI Women's Carly Saddle Bag". This inspired bag has been on my wishlist for at least a month. It's a stunning design that perfectly embodies the deep red wine color I'm currently obsessed with, and it's the ideal size. What sets it apart are the additional luxury-inspired details not found in the original. The saddle bag silhouette is a dream come true for me, and the faux alligator leather is absolutely gorgeous, bringing to us the luxurious feel of Hermès's exotic crocodile and alligator skins. Seeing it all come together in this rich red wine shade is simply unbelievable. It's priced at $78.99 USD, which is a bit higher than some other options, but I genuinely believe the quality reflects the price. The reviews are overwhelmingly positive, solidifying this as a top pick.

Okay, next up, we have a Shein find! This inspired bag is only $14.20 USD (as of 1/13/25)—seriously, so much more affordable. I know the color is a little more maroon than the deep red wine we're going for, but for that price? I can't say no! It's super cute and a great option if you're on a budget. It's a 10/10 from me!

Last but not least girl, an absolute ridiculous find. This cute, shiny red bag from Temu. Is it the best bag out of the options? Absolutely not, but it retails for as of right now $4.30 USD, and that is absolutely unbeatable. The reviews seem overall positive, and the girlies look cute in their pictures with it. I can't vouch for the quality, but I can promise you that this bag will give you the look of the YSL bag, on a McDonald's budget. And I am here for it.

So, there you have it—my current recommendations for YSL-inspired red wine bags. If you have any options besides these that you've found, let me know! I'm always looking for new discoveries. As always, feel free to ask me anything! This is a real passion project for me (thanks to my ADHD hyperfocus!), and I'm excited to keep this blog going strong.

Love ya,

Haybales

[bucci-cookies]

A Trip To Naples - Bruno Bucciarati x Reader

Here is a commission piece I did where the reader goes on a trip to Italy and falls in love with a lovely stranger :)

Naples: the birthplace of pizza, home of the famous Amalfi Coast and, of course, the destination of your impulsive getaway. With the stress of work pushing down on your shoulders, you needed some sort of break; those winning tickets couldn’t have come at a better time. Three weeks living in the bustling Campanian city in an all-expenses paid hotel was a perfect way to spend your annual vacation time.

One of the highlights of Naples was its colourful markets: picturesque stalls and shops lining the cobblestoned streets selling various trinkets, clothing and flowers. You found yourself in the Market of Antignano, deep in the centre of Vomero. The jovial sellers beckoned you over to look at the various slippers, cosmetics and linen sitting on the displays, eager to squeeze some money out of you before lunch. An elderly woman with thick black hair selling keyrings waved at you, shaking one of them in her hand. It was a cute little thing, a brown plastic bear holding a red heart between its paws, all connected to the metal ring. You figured that you might as well replace your old worn-out one with a new souvenir.

“Questo è perfetto per voi zucca!” She smiled, placing the ring in your hand. To your knowledge, she said it was perfect for you.

“Il mio Italiano…non è buono” You laughed awkwardly. The only fault in this seemingly perfect holiday was that you only had very little knowledge of the language. You could say enough to scrape by, but in this case, you found it easier to say you don’t know the language well.

“Ah! You speak English, zucca?” The woman asked, not phased by your inability to speak her Italian.

You sighed loudly, thankful that you could converse in a language you understood. “Yes, I do. Sorry, this is my first time in Italy.”

“Oh? How lovely!” She beamed, giving you a toothy grin. She looked down at her watch, 1 pm, almost time to close up for today. "Have you got somewhere to go for lunch?"

"Nowhere, in particular. I'll just walk around and see what looks nice." You had researched local places to eat earlier. Most of them were within the same vicinity so you planned to go to whatever seemed less busy to avoid long queues.

"Zucca, you must go to Libeccio!" She shook your hand, almost like her life depended on you going there. "It's marvellous, oh you'll love it!" She squealed. "Plus," She said with a  smirk, "it's owned by such a sweet young man, Bucciarati. He's so graceful and kind, you’ll love him!”

You remember searching up Libeccio - it was a beautiful restaurant, though you were worried it was a little out of your price range. It screamed expensive from the pictures you saw online. Well, you were on holiday, you might as well allow a little bit of luxury. You paid for the keyring, placing it in the side pocket of your bag before waving the kind woman off as she packed up her stall for the day.

Libeccio was about a ten-minute walk away, allowing you to explore parts of the region a bit more. You took note of some stylish boutiques along the way, thinking about how your wardrobe could do with a revamp. As well as some grocery stores for if you ever needed a snack.

Libeccio, unsurprisingly, was an Italianate-style building. Bay windows with pink and shamrock-like decorative window trims along both stories of the tawny-coloured building. The inside had half-cream half-dark oak walls, and a soft crimson carpet covering the entire dining area. It was a little intimidating to see so many well-dressed people sitting together. Eating meals you probably couldn’t pronounce and drinking wines you had never heard of. You felt like you stuck out like a sore thumb. You swallowed the lump in your throat and made your way to the waiting table where one of the floor workers stood, writing some notes in a large black book. He greeted you with a wide smile as his hazel eyes and tanned skin shone under the bright lights that reflected off his silver name badge that read ‘Alejandro’. He held up a finger, presumably asking you if you were the only diner, to which you nodded. Before you could get a word in, he placed you on a two-seater table near one of the windows with a menu and a glass of water to get you started.

You opened the sleek black booklet, revealing extensive lists of appetisers, starters, mains and desserts, all in clean, fancy, Italian writing. The best thing you could do was whip out Google and try to search for all these meals. You tried to note what sounded best, whittling down the list as best as you could, but you barely scratched the surface of the menu when the waiter returned, asking if you would like to order. With an embarrassed blush, you tried to explain how you were struggling to read the menu. But it seemed like he couldn’t understand you, especially over the noisy restaurant.

You didn’t notice that this interaction had caught the attention of a group of men who sat a couple of tables down from yours. “Scusi.” A sultry voice said. You looked up to see a tall man with darker skin standing next to the waiter. The mas w `A`1as dressed in a cropped sweater and sleek black jeans, offering a perfect view of his toned abdomen. His hair was thick and curly, framing his roundish face and drawing attention to his dark eyes. The man whispered something to the waiter, making him run off, before pulling a chair next to you.

“Buongiorno signora. Are you having trouble with your menu? I see you switching between it and your phone.” Before you could begin to question who this man was and how he knew you would speak English, he took the menu from your hands and began flicking through the pages before tapping one of the options. “This is gravlax bella, it's just cured salmon, comes in thin slices.” He turned over the page. “Ah and capricciosa! You’ve got mushroom, artichokes, baked ham, olives, my absolute favourite!” He said with gusto as he scooched a little closer to you. Truth be told, you didn’t feel too comfortable in this situation, a strange man in a strange country acting so familiar with you made you uneasy. And the way he so easily managed to get rid of the waiter rubbed you the wrong way, who knows what his intentions were? You simply tucked your lips in and nodded at his rambling about the menu, thankful that you at least had some options to order.

You avoided eye contact with the strange man until suddenly his voice stopped. You looked over to see another man standing behind him, one with lighter skin and short black hair. “Mista,” He sighed, his voice a smooth baritone, “la stai mettendo a disagio.” He whispered with a smile, squeezing the man’s shoulder. Instantly he looked back at you, bowing his head.

“I’m so sorry signora, I’ll get out of your way!” He dropped the menu back on the table and walked back to his original seat. He was met with the disapproving headshakes of the third man on the table. The new man moved the chair back to its original place opposite you before holding out a hand.

“Bruno Bucciarati, I’m the owner.” He shot you a dazzling smile. Thankful that he was at least affiliated with the restaurant and not another stranger, you calmly shook his hand. You had to admit, the woman from the market was right, he was handsome. His frame was tall and lean and he had a certain youthful essence in his speech and gestures. His hair was cut to his shoulders, neatly styled to form bangs that reached his thin black eyebrows. His eyes were the most noticeable feature on his face, soft blue ones surrounded by long lashes. If you had to guess, he was probably in his mid 20s. Part of you wondered how a young man like him could own such a lavish restaurant. “You’ll have to forgive my friend, he was only trying to help and he got a bit carried away.” Bruno turned around to face the man you now know to be Mista, presumably staring him down, before facing you again and rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward laugh.

“It’s fine, thank you for clarifying.” You smiled back. “I’m really glad we can speak in English, my Italian isn’t good at all.”

He cocked his head to the side, thin eyebrows furrowed. “You weren’t able to request a menu in English?”

Your jaw dropped slightly, realising this could have been resolved if you simply asked for a different menu. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know I could!” You pressed your hands against your cheeks in shame.

Bruno laughed gently, his shoulder relaxing, grateful that this wasn’t a staff complaint in the works. “It’s okay, I’m glad you know for next time, I will go get you one.” He came back shortly with an identical menu, this time with everything in English. “We get a lot of tourists here, so we print a couple menus in different languages, mainly English and French.”

“Thank you so much sir, it helps a lot.” You waved him goodbye as you flicked through the new one, picking up all of the meals you had missed out on earlier. You decided to give Mista’s suggestion a go, after all, he was just trying to be nice. A different waiter met you this time, a woman with her hair tied back in a long, blonde ponytail and an exuberant expression across on her face, ready to take your order: the capricciosa pizza, and a slice of chocolate cake with gelato for dessert.

By now the restaurant had more customers, different groups of people huddled around the tables, filling the room with the smell of their meals and another layer of noise above the soft music in the background. Couples, families and friends chuckled and chatted together, enjoying the lively mood that the Naples summer put into them as they shared glasses of wine and scrumptious desserts. It didn’t take long for your waitress to return with a piping hot thin crust pizza on a large round plate with a rich cheesy and meaty aroma exuding from it as she placed it in front of your nose. She refilled your glass of water, adding a few blocks of ice to cool you down as the weather had begun to increase, before leaving you to enjoy your meal.

You took a bite from one of the slices, enjoying how the base crunched in your mouth and sighed, it was incredible. The meat was perfectly seasoned and paired wonderfully with the assortment of vegetables. This particular version had an additional drizzle of olive oil, but to your delight, it didn’t make the dish greasy at all. You had never had a pizza as wonderful as this, you saw why that nice old lady recommended Libeccio to you, as well as why Naples is known as the pizza hotspot. It’s like the meal had some sort of hold on you, its smell wrapped around your body, making you focus on the rich ham and savoury sauce. You ordered one of the smaller sizes, making sure you had enough space for dessert, which was just as delightful. The cool vanilla gelato was a perfect pair for the thick, warm chocolate cake. You always tried to limit your sugar intake, not wanting to sacrifice your health for a few treats, but it didn’t take long for your sweet tooth to activate and completely devour the rich cake.

“Did you enjoy your meal?” Mr Bucciarati returned once your plates had been cleared, sitting on the chair opposite you. “I hope everything was to your taste?” He placed his elbow on the table, resting his head on his hand.

While wiping your lips with a napkin, you nodded enthusiastically. “I did! I guess your friend was right about the capricciosa, it’s really amazing!” You definitely planned to return to Libeccio soon, especially since it wasn’t as expensive as you thought it would be.

His cerulean eyes lit up as a toothy grin formed. Libeccio had been his favourite restaurant since he was young. When he bought the establishment from the previous owner, he spared no expense to continue to do its name justice, not wanting to cut any corners regarding the quality of service or food as some would do. “Well I’m glad you liked it, it’s one of my favourites too.” He leaned in a little towards you, clearing his throat. “Can I ask, is this your first time in Italy?”

You paused a little before replying. “Yes. I never travel much, it’s far too expensive these days. I actually won these tickets in a lottery.”

He gave an understanding nod before switching to another beaming smile. “Ahh well that’s lucky, Naples is one of the best cities here. Call me biased since I grew up here, but I thoroughly prefer it to cities up north.” He folded his arms against his chest with a jokingly smug expression on his face. To Bruno, no amount of glitz and glam in Florence or Milan could match the warm pleasure that Naples made in his heart.

“Well, I’m glad I’m in the right place.” You smiled, turning to face him a little more.

“May I ask where you’re from?”

With slight hesitation, you revealed your home country to the kind stranger, watching his eyes light up at your words.

He leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table. “Oh? I hear how beautiful it is there, especially in the Spring. I have an old friend who moved to,” He snapped his fingers as he tried to recall the name. “It’s escaped me now, but you know the small town in the south, the one with all the mountains and forests? I had a friend who moved there when we were younger. We would send each other postcards when we were little.” Bruno didn’t have many friends his age, especially as he grew up in a quieter area with an older population. This meant he cherished the few he had greatly. When his friend Mikhail moved away due to his father getting a job abroad, they vowed to always send each other letters and postcards. Sadly, this was cut short when he was twelve. You were familiar with the town he was referring to having visited there several times. It was a gorgeous area, filled with a lively artistic and historical culture, as well as being one of the largest cities from your home.

“Were you given any sort of activity list? Things to do here?” Bruno asked, fiddling with his fingers.

You shook your head. “Nothing, in particular, I don’t really know where to start.” You simply planned to rely on whatever the Internet suggested.

“If you would like anyone to go with you or show you some nice places, I’d be more than happy to show you around.”

“Oh no that’s completely fine! I don’t want to intrude on your schedule.” You grit your teeth, not wanting to inconvenience the lovely owner.

He scoffed with a light-hearted tone, shaking his head. “No, it's fine! You won’t be interrupting anything, I promise.” He paused, briefly before pulling a pen out of his shirt pocket and writing something on a napkin. “Here, this is my number. If you would like to go anywhere or need an idea, I would be more than willing to help.” He neatly folded it and handed it to you. “You don’t have to agree, this is just a suggestion! I know that being in a new country can be hard and sometimes daunting.” He quickly explained, holding his hands up as if to prove that this was just an innocent suggestion. The last thing he wanted was to make you feel as overwhelmed by a stranger as you did when Mista approached you.

You took the napkin from him, placing it in your purse. “Thank you Mr Bucciarati.” There was something about him that made it easy to talk to him: maybe it was his calm body language or his soft facial expressions, but it felt nice talking to him. In your gut, he seemed like a good guy. Besides, it would be nice to have a native speaker around to guide you.

“You can just call me Bruno by the way.” Usually, he was fine with being referred to as Bucciarati, but something in him felt like being less formal with you. “What can I call you?”

“y/n.”

He smiled and tilted his head to the side, causing his hair to fall slightly as he slowly repeated your name. “That’s such a beautiful name.”

**************************************************

It had been two days since you visited Libeccio, and still, the kind man’s napkin sat in your bag, stuffed underneath your purse. Bruno did seem nice, and at least he was the well-known owner of Libeccio, so he wasn’t a completely random stranger. It would be nice to have a personal tour guide, especially someone native to the area, it would also make your trip a lot less lonely. You pulled out the napkin and used the hotel phone to call him. After two rings, he picked up.

“Salve, Bucciarati parla.” He said, his voice was deep and groggy like he had just woken up and you could hear the sizzling of a frying pan in the background.

“Mr Bucciarati - Bruno?” You cleared your throat. “It’s y/n, I hope I didn’t call at a bad time.” You heard ceramic plates clanging against each other as well as the opening and closing of wooden drawers.

Bruno yawned before replying, rubbing his neck, soothing it after an uncomfortable night’s rest. “From Libeccio right?” His voice sounded a little chippier as he placed some bread in the toaster. He couldn’t deny that he was hoping you would call, at least this was something pleasant to start off his otherwise boring day.

“Mhm…I’m sorry I responded so late I-” 

“It’s fine, it was a bold move on my part.” He cut you off with a light chuckle as he spread some butter on a crisp slice of toast. He was never usually so forward, especially with new people, the last thing he wanted was to make you feel pressured or preyed on. “Does this mean that you’ve decided to take up my offer?”

“Yes.” You nodded, perching on the end of your double bed.

He was thankful that you couldn’t see the wide grin that spread across his face. “How do you feel about pasta making?” The kettle whistled in the background, steam bursting out of the spout before settling. “There’s a place in the Spanish Quarter, they do pasta-making sessions for pretty much anyone, they’re supposedly quite fun.” Bruno poured himself his usual morning drink, a cup of coffee with a little milk and a dash of honey. He had visited his area several times before, though never to attend a class.

The opportunity to be taught how to make a true Italian pizza did sound intriguing, and a public session would be a safe option to go with a stranger. You concluded that this would be a decent idea. “That sounds great! How much does it cost?” You eyed your purse, knowing that you put yourself on a reasonably tight budget.

“Don’t worry about that, I’ll cover you.” He said nonchalantly, taking a sip of his warm coffee.

“No no, I can’t just let you pay for me!”

Bruno let out another soft chuckle as took his usual seat on the sofa. “Don’t worry, the owner owes me anyways. So how does this afternoon sound?” He asked before taking a bite out of the soft buttered bread.

You turned to face the clock on the nightstand. “I can do two o’clock if that’s okay.”

“Meet me at Libeccio then.”

Bruno sat on a long wooden bench just outside the restaurant, arms resting on the back with his head tilted backwards. He wore a blue button-up shirt, opting to leave the top few buttons, exposing the top of his toned chest. Today was a lot warmer than the rest of the week, hence the cool lemonade sitting next to him with already melted ice cubes.

“Sorry I’m late!” You waved shyly, placing a hand on the bench. “I took a wrong turn and ended up at a marketplace.” An awkward laugh left your lips as Bruno sat up to face you, holding a hand above his eyes to avoid the glare of the Sun.

“No problem, the next bus will be here in a few minutes.” He smiled, looking down at his watch. You took a seat next to him, crossing your legs as you waited for the next bus to arrive. Libeccio was even busier than the last time you were there, the chatter from inside the restaurant poured out into the busy streets. This particular street seemed to be the centre of food service in the area, with cafes, bakeries and restaurants lining the road. Across from you was a small coffee shop with outdoor seating, while a dessert parlour with a white and lilac interior sat beside it. Through the window, you could see a group of kids and adults sitting in a booth enjoying an array of ice-creams and milkshakes, the perfect treat for such a hot day.

“That place does incredible cheesecakes,” Bruno’s voice caught your attention. “Probably the best you can get in Naples.” He pointed to the dessert place you were staring at.

“Do you go there often?” You asked, turning to face the man as he sipped his drink.

“Sometimes, when I have the chance. You should try it one day!” He gave you an enthusiastic grin. Libeccio only had limited dessert options, mainly a couple variations of cake with a simple scoop of vanilla gelato, but that wasn’t enough to soothe his sweet tooth. His usual order was a chocolate milkshake with a slice of either cheesecake or a brownie. The positions of Libeccio and  Più Golosi (Sweet Tooth) complimented each other well, a savoury and sweet place just across the street from each other, a perfect, tempting pair for customers.

Before you could respond, the small yellow bus pulled up to the stop, stuffed to the brim with a flood of travellers. The double doors swung open, releasing a swarm of people as they rushed to jump off the stuffy vehicle. As Libeccio was in the city centre, the majority of the travellers were ending their journeys here, leaving the bus nice and spacious for the two of you. Bruno led you to a seat in the middle of the bus, slightly behind a group of teenagers chatting away about whatever trip they were on. The bus drove slowly along the street, giving you a chance to gaze at the array of bright and beautiful buildings lining the road. Naples really was a gorgeous city, decorated in bright buildings of various styles: gothic, classical, italiante, modern. Its proximity to the water not only guaranteed you a few nice days at the beautiful beach, but it also meant that you would get some of the best seafood around. As schools were closed for the holidays, you weren’t surprised to see so many kids and teens walking around. Some were in swimwear, most likely from the aforementioned beach, while others were in various summer wear, laughing with friends over smoothies as they moved from shop to shop.

It didn’t take long to reach the place, a large stone building with several cars parked in front. Near one of the entrances was a tall man with cropped black hair, treating himself to a smoke break. “Cardinale.” Bruno waved at the man, causing him to look up from his lighter. On closer inspection, the man, Cardinale, had a large tattoo on his forearm reading “Frederica.”

“Bucciarati.” Cardinale nodded with a smile, walking towards the two of you. “Oh, you brought a friend?” He faced you, looking you up and down before reaching out a hand towards you. “Cardinale, as you have heard.”

You took his hand, noting his strong grip on your hand. “Y/n, a pleasure to meet you.”

“Lovely to meet you too,” He let go of your hand, looking down at his watch. “If you’re here for a class, the next one is in about five minutes, Angelica is leading. Just put on an apron and wait in the hall with the rest of the group.” He pointed you in the direction of the large entrance next to him. “Don’t worry about a fee.” He took a puff of his cigarette as he waved the two of you off.

Contrary to its rustic exterior, the inside of the culinary school was extremely modern and polished. In the long hallway stood a group of about ten people, presumably the other people joining the class, chatting amongst themselves. Along the wall was a line of aprons, well, what would have been a line of aprons if they hadn’t been taken by the rest of the group, you and Bruno helped yourselves to the last two.

The wooden door at the end of the hall swung open, revealing a young woman with thick curly hair, beckoning everyone in. “Welcome welcome! Come inside!” She held the door open for everyone, greeting each member as they entered the pristine kitchen. She was quite tall, with dark skin and hazel eyes, all complimenting the friendly smile spread across her face, revealing a set of pearly white teeth. “Two people to a bench, please wash your hands before you touch anything.”

By default, you and Bruno stayed as a pair, choosing one of the benches near the large arched windows. The woman introduced herself as Angelica, explaining that she was a final-year culinary student and would be leading this session. She took you through all the steps, from making the dough, to forming the various shapes and preparing the sauce. Bruno seemed to be a master already, calmly forming little portions of perfect gnocchi, enough to get some praise from Angelica as she walked around the benches. At first, you were dreading this, worried that you would be the only one to mess up the shapes. The first few pieces of garganelli came out rather flat or irregularly folded, but after the fourth one, you started to get the hang of it. You decided to mix it up with some gemelli, they were much easier than the radiatori which Bruno made.

“You’re so good at this.” You laughed awkwardly, eyeing the array of styles Bruno had made.

He scoffed in return. “I’ve been doing this for a long time, trust me when I say that I was worse than you when I first started.” He tutted loudly, realising he had squashed the riccioli in his hands. “As you can see, I still make mistakes.”

“I don’t think I’ll even attempt the ruote or the spighe.” Angelica had a camera set up at her station, it projected a birds-eye view of her work onto the screen slightly to the left of her. On her board were roughly thirty different types of pasta she made on the spot, ready to be cooked. They were all perfectly shaped with no sign of imperfections.

“Well, maybe when you return from your holiday you can continue practising. Being able to make pasta from home can save a lot of money sometimes.” 

“Do you make all of yours from scratch then?” You asked, using the pasta machine to flatten out a new section of dough.

“I try to if I have the time.”

You shook your head. “Owning a restaurant must take a lot of your time, I can’t imagine how much work goes into it.” You began sectioning out the dough for a batch of casarecce.

“Well yes…sort of.” Owning a restaurant was time-consuming, Bruno wouldn’t deny it. But it wasn’t the only thing that limited his time and availability. His position with Passione didn’t concern you, after all, you were a tourist and a stranger. Before the conversation could continue any further, Angelica called everyone’s attention to the front where she took everyone through the sauce.

It was a simple cream sauce with bacon, parmesan and swiss cheese, a perfect match for the pasta. While the food simmered in the separate posts, the opportunity arose for the group members to mingle with each other, only for a few minutes. You ended up conversing with the couple behind you, a pair of 19-year-old university students on a date. The four of you talked about the summer, they shared their plans to travel around Naples before returning to Rome for their studies. While you and Bruno explained that you were also on holiday here and he was showing you around.

Once everything was cooked and plated to Angelica’s standards, everyone made their way to the dining area just down the hall from the kitchen. You both sat by a round wooden table situated by a window, helping yourselves to the freshly squeezed juice offered. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for the worst as you took a bite of your dish. To your surprise it was delightful! The thick creamy sauce paired wonderfully with the light pasta, and the bacon gave an extra savoury crunch to the dish.

“See, I knew you weren’t as bad as you thought.” Bruno asked, topping up his glass of juice.

“I surprised myself honestly.” You laughed, collecting another forkful of food. “How is yours?” You noticed that he had already eaten half of his plate.

“As you can see, I thoroughly enjoyed it, it was lovely if I do say so myself.” He smirked proudly, his expression making you giggle. “Though I think I’ll add more vegetables to it if I remake it.” He ate another forkful.

The two of you conversed a little more as you cleaned up your plates and washed them up. Bruno was a real gentleman, even with the smallest things like holding the door open for you, he was a good listener and showed genuine interest in your stories about back home. There was something about him that made you very comfortable, he genuinely seemed like a friend to you, despite how little time you had known him for.

“Thank you so much for inviting me,” You said as you walked towards the bus stop. “I’m very grateful that you did this.” You rubbed the back of your neck shyly.

Bruno gave you a smile as he dug his hands into his pocket, “It’s no problem.” The bus back to Libeccio arrived and you both got on board. It was just as empty as it was when you got on it earlier, allowing the two of you to speak openly. “Y/n? While I enjoy your company and would love to show you more interesting places, I just hope you don’t pressured to meet with me. I know that being in a new country can be daunting and I don’t want you to feel unsafe around me.” Bruno said, squeezing the fabric of his trousers.

“Well, I’m thankful that you appreciate boundaries. I’d like to think I can trust you, I would like to see more places, its better than travelling all alone. You replied, resting your back against the window so you faced him.

The corners of his lips upturned lightly. “I would like that too.” He cocked his head to the side. “Just give me a call whenever you feel like meeting again.”

**************************************************

Today marked two weeks of your trip, and of those fourteen days, ten of them had been spent with Mr Bruno Bucciarati. After the success of the pasta-making class, you met up the next day to try out that dessert place you were looking at, Più Golosi. He treated you to an ice cream sundae with a fluffy waffle, while he had a tall glass of hot chocolate with a slice of carrot cake. The day after that, he took you through the underground world of the Napoli Sotteranea, through the ancient labyrinth of aqueducts, passages and cisterns, weaving through the narrow passages by candlelight. Later you visited some of the other marketplaces, trying out some of the local street food like cuoppo and graffa. Graffa was a kind of fried fluffy, potato-based doughnut covered with sugar. Cuoppo came in land and sea variations, with the land version consisting of potato crocché stuffed with cheese and ham, pasta zeppole, zucchini flowers, ricotta and scagliuozz, arancini rice and more. With the sea version contains squid and shrimp rings, seaweed fritters and fried fravaglietti. You both shared a love for music and art and expressed these through trips to the Museo e Real Bosco di Capodimonte and the busy busking-rich streets where guitarists and pianists were often found entertaining crowds dotting the area.

You and Bruno had grown closer over time, sharing more intimate sides of you over cups of coffee and walks through the shopping centres. You ended up meeting some of his friends, Giorno, Fugo and Mista. The latter you had already met through the awkward encounter in Libeccio, but you were thankful that now you had a more pleasant encounter with him. Mista was quite the comedian, loud and unhinged, while Giorno and Fugo were more mellow and casual like Bruno. You hit it off with them immediately, you bounced off each other quite well. You learnt about his childhood, how his parents were separated and he bought Libeccio just a couple of years ago; while letting him in on details of your life back in your home country. Bruno never pried into your personal affairs, always tiptoeing around anything that could seem intrusive (he didn’t even know which hotel you were staying at), respecting the boundaries set as new companions while remaining amicable. That little connection you felt to him when you first met had increased over time, and something inside you wanted to see him more and more. Maybe it was just a silly little crush, after all, having a handsome Italian gentleman showing you around the city would make anyone blush. And besides, you were on holiday, maybe the new scenery had changed you in a way. Regardless, you were not going to act on anything, you’d had enough bad luck with past relationships, no need to cripple yourself with a fantasy-like ordeal with a strange man in another country, and it’s not like you knew if Bruno felt the same.

Today you were at the beach again, for the third time this trip, basking in the Sun and soaking up a nice tan.

“Fancy a drink?” You pulled off your sunglasses, looking up at Bruno as he stood beside you, holding out a chilled can of Coca-Cola. You thanked him for the beverage and cracked it open, enjoying the refreshing drink. “I have to leave soon, a friend is coming to pick me up in a few minutes.” He said with an apologetic tone as he packed up his belongings. “We can drop you off at Libeccio if you would like us to?” He folded his towel, placing it in his small travel bag.

You had grown a little tired of today’s beach trip anyways, with it being a Saturday, more families were free to visit the beach making it more crowded and louder than normal. “If you could that would be great.” You began packing up your own items, making sure to not leave anything behind like your water bottle or sunscreen. The two of you walked over to the parking lot after changing, where a black Honda sat with the driver resting his head on the open window.

“Who’s that.” The man looked up, pointing to you.

“She’s a friend, y/n, I need you to drop her off at Libeccio.” Bruno opened the back door for you to get in, before making his way to the front passenger seat.

“I’m not your personal driver Bucciarati.” The man scowled, starting the car and pulling out of the parking space. Bruno scoffed and leaned on the window.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve done a lot more favours for you Abbacchio,” He turned around you face you, “don’t mind him, he’s just bitter for no reason.” He gave you a reassuring smile before facing forward once more.

The journey was short, just a few minutes of driving with very little traffic. Bruno and Abbacchio talked for most of the journey, presumably about something important as they only spoke in Italian, despite them speaking in English earlier. The man Bruno was with looked about your age with pale skin, long greyish hair tied back and a few bruises on the back of his hands. You assumed this was just a friend, or maybe someone he worked with at Libeccio. They dropped you off outside of the restaurant and Bruno waved you goodbye as the car drove off.

“So are we not going to address her?” Abbacchio asked, a sly smile creeping onto his face. “I didn’t know you liked picking up foreign girls, I guess this is the person you show around.” 

Bruno rolled his eyes at the teasing, refusing to let it get to him.

“Oh? Trying to act like the bigger man now?” Leone turned into the next street. “I thought you’d given up on dating after Ambra? Or Esta? Or even Genevieve?” He looked at Bruno through the corner of his eye. He picked up on the way Bruno’s jaw clenched slightly after hearing his exes' names brought into the conversation. Despite what many people would assume, Bruno Bucciarati never had any luck with girlfriends. Yes he was sweet, outgoing, polite, a great cook, loving, he checked most if not all boxes on the typical ‘perfect boyfriend’ list; but his involvement with Passione was enough to render his pros useless. Ambra and Genevieve were both frightened by this connection, cutting the relationship short and eventually just ending communication with him as a whole, while Esta ended up using him for his money, despite knowing that Bruno was in love with her. These three relationships were enough to crush his spirit and deter him from dating as a whole, not wanting to have his heart shattered by anyone else. His coping mechanisms were focussing more on Passione and buying a restaurant close to his heart, Libeccio.

“She is just a friend, that’s all.” Bruno shrugged, eyes focused on the traffic lights up ahead.

“Ha! That’s rich!” Leone snorted, stopping for the red light, he paused, considering his words before saying them. “Does she know you’re in Passione?” Abbacchio had known Bruno through two of his relationships, and as one of his closest friends, he could also tell that Bruno was already interested in you and he didn’t want him to make another mistake. 

“No, she doesn’t.” 

Leone sighed, his skepticism growing. “Why not?”

“Because she doesn’t need to know.” Bruno snapped, winding down the window slightly for air. In his gut, he was sure that Leone knew his feelings for you, he was good at reading people. But still, Bruno was stubborn and would rather avoid such an intrusive conversation.

They had reached their destination, an old motel on the outskirts of the city. “It’s very clear that you like her Bucciarati, she’s the one you’ve been touring the city with right?” Leone sighed, knowing that he would be treading on an uncomfortable, but necessary conversation. “How do you know she’s not using you? Taking advantage of a rich guy to improve her time here, how much have you spent on her?”

“Not much.” This was technically true, anytime Bruno paid for anything, you paid him back or simply split the fee.

Abbacchio grunted, stepping out of the car and making his way to the motel room with Bruno right behind him. “Jeez, you never learn do you?” He scoffed, trying to find the right key for the room. “Don’t give me any of that ‘I don’t like her’ crap, you know you do that’s why you spent all your time with her.” He managed to unlock the door. “Just don’t let her break your heart again, I can’t say I’m expecting anything good from this.”

**************************************************

“Do you know the Amalfi Coast?” Bruno asked, poking you lightly.

You tapped your chin. “I’ve seen a few pictures, it looks beautiful.” You turned back to your plate of lasagne, cutting another piece of the dish and piling some salad on top.

Bruno cleared his throat, poking his carbonara as he tried to figure out how to word his next comment. His words were stuck in his throat leading him to continue tiptoeing around the topic as he had before. “There’s a very nice hotel that I go to sometimes, its so close to the water.” He looked up at you, trying to gauge your interest. You simply nodded and sipped your water, humming in response. “I think it's the kind of place to go with someone.” His voice upturned slightly, almost like he was asking a question. You still didn’t react much as you sipped your lemonade. Bruno huffed and placed his fork down, leaning towards you. “Y/n, I’m asking if you would like to join me.” He blurted out, making your eyes widen.

“Oh.” That was all you said as your hands paused in the middle of loading another forkful. There was an awkward pause and the air grew thicker. A bead of sweat trailed down the back of Bruno’s neck as the regret pooled at the bottom of his stomach. How could he think you would even agree to this? You had only known each other for just over two weeks, him suddenly inviting you to a hotel in another area just made him look like a creep. Now you knew he had some sort of interest in you and there was no backtracking.

‘I just want to curl up in a ball and-’

“I would love to go with you Bruno.” You said, cutting off his thoughts. You folded your lips in, fiddling with your thumbs as you stared at your plate bashfully. With such close proximity, Bruno could see the slight redness of your cheeks. So it looked like you both shared similar feelings towards each other, Bruno wondered how long the two of you had been in this state without knowing.

“I’ll drive us there tomorrow then.” He smiled, refilling his mocktail.

It felt like forever for Saturday morning to arrive, you spent hours fretting over what to wear. You hadn’t been on a date in a while (was this a date?), even longer since you went on a trip with someone you were interested in, and that most certainly didn’t end well. But you felt like Bruno was different. Despite his classy sense of style or his popularity among the locals, he never came across as judgemental or arrogant and that made it easier to get ready for the trip.

At 10 am, Bruno arrived at your hotel. This was the first time you ever told him where you were staying and you would rather he picked you up than you took a suitcase with you to meet at Libeccio. This was also the first time you ever saw his car. It looked expensive, a shiny black convertible that people kept looking at as they walked in and out of the hotel’s front doors. He wore a plain white t-shirt and had a pair of gold-rimmed sunglasses on his head. He shot you a confident smile as he waved at you, getting out to help you put your suitcase in the back.

The journey was a little longer than expected, around three and a half hours with the traffic that clogged the highway. Bruno had a designated travel playlist, burned onto a CD which he played for any long journey. It was a mix of American and Italian songs, mainly different variations of jazz or romantic songs, he made sure to sing along to most of them, even when he fumbled the lyrics. Bruno had a very smooth singing voice, his baritone voice made every word sound like honey as he sang, you could listen to it for hours.

You and Bruno conversed for a while, passing the time as you sat in traffic once more between Trecase and Torre Annunziata. Bruno told you how Mista and Giorno had asked about you, hoping to see you again before you leave, carefully excluding how they teased him for planning this trip to Amalfi, well aware of your shared interest in each other. Abbacchio was still skeptical, this spontaneous trip to Amalfi, which was completely covered by Bruno, didn’t help his gut feeling about you using him. But seeing how the two of you acted around the rest of the group made him a little more optimistic about the situation. He just hoped you wouldn’t run back home and block his number instantly.

“We’re here!” Bruno pulled up in front of a grand hotel, ‘’. It was a large classical building with pillars along the front, all coated in bright white. The inside was a soft gold colour with a gorgeous chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Being here was breathtaking, you always thought your hotel in Naples was fabulous, but this was extraordinary, does Bruno really make so much money to afford this just through restaurant owning?

After Bruno checked you in, he handed you the key to your room. You and Bruno were staying in separate large rooms next to each other on the sixth floor which gave you the perfect view of the water. After a couple hours of settling in, you took a tour around the coast. Amalfi was an interesting place, it was made up of thirteen towns, all clinging to the cliffs, reaching all the way down to the beautiful shore. Tourists traipsed up and down the area, some hiking on the Path of the Gods, while others explored the Blue Grotto caves in Capri. Bruno told you that when he was younger, he assisted his father with his duties as a fisherman: from gathering bait, to fishing, to following him on deliveries to the local fishmongers. He arranged a boat for recreational fishing just off the coast of Postiano, but for the sake of preserving the natural ecosystem, participants were asked to just catch and release.

The small boat rocked slowly on the water as Bruno guided you through fishing, holding your hands in the right position to be able to reel the fish in properly. It took a couple of tries, but you managed to catch a few small sardines.

That evening, Bruno had arranged dinner at a small restaurant near the hotel.

**************************************************

La Galleria was a cosy little place specialising in seafood from the local fishing ports. Your table was on the roof with a breathtaking view of the water below as the cooler evening breeze hit the back of your neck. You wore a simple red dress, while Bruno wore a red turtleneck with a black blazer. You both had bowls of chicken caesar salad, drizzled in a rich sauce, followed by a miso-glazed black cod on white rice for Bruno, and shrimp scampi with pasta for you. As the soft jazz from below wafted up to the roof, you and Bruno reminisced on your time together these past couple weeks, from strangers in Libeccio to sharing a meal in Amalfi. Your knee brushed against Bruno’s innocently as you talked, the close proximity making your heart race. Bruno was so handsome, and even though you told yourself that you wouldn’t let a crush grow to anything more, you couldn't help but feel the urge to have his muscular arms wrapped around you or run your fingers through his soft black hair made your stomach twist. You could listen to his voice for hours on end, enjoying his cute hand gestures and his rich accent. He was so kind to you too, planning so many trips, including paying for this one. He was way too generous to you and the last thing you wanted was to come across as a golddigger of some sort, Bruno was a genuinely nice guy, so patient and attentive.

Bruno’s heart was racing too, worried he would trip on his words or forget how to say something in English as he had before when talking to you. You always looked so beautiful to him, no matter what, you always took his breath away. He couldn’t imagine the last time he had felt so at ease around someone, much less a stranger he met a couple of weeks ago.

“Thank you so much Bruno, for tonight, for everything.” You said, your fingers lightly brushing against his on the table. He wanted to hold your hand badly, to kiss it again like he had before and tell you how much you meant to him.

“You’re welcome bella, I’ve really enjoyed these past-” He was cut off by the ringing of his phone, “please excuse me.” He got up immediately, excusing himself downstairs in a rush. You didn’t see the caller ID, but usually, Bruno was fine with answering calls around you, but his behaviour made you worry. The call was short and Bruno returned within a few minutes, facing his meal as if nothing happened. Ordinarily this would be normal, but it seemed like something was on his mind, like his mood was suddenly soured. You noticed how the space between you had grown slightly bigger than before, you were no longer lightly brushing against his knuckles, and nor were your knees connected. 

“Bruno, is everything okay?” You mustered up the courage to ask, worried that you would be prying too much into private affairs. You hoped he would just tell you everything was fine, that it wasn’t anything serious, but you knew it must have been.

“Y/n…” He sighed, biting on his bottom lip, “there’s something I need to tell you. I haven’t been completely honest about myself.” He avoided making eye contact with you, which was more than enough to elevate your worry. Your stomach dropped, a million possibilities racing through your head. Maybe he didn’t really like you, maybe he was using you for attention, reeling you in with a charming persona? Maybe he had a partner and was using you to cheat?

Bruno turned to face you, clutching your hand in his as he looked earnestly into your eyes. “I’m still Bruno, bella, I’m still the same person who owns Libeccio, and likes fishing. And I do like you, so much, but I can’t keep hiding this from you and I understand if this means you don’t want to be around me anymore.” His breathing was rapid as he squeezed your hand tightly. His mind was prepared for the worst scenario, he was ready for you to scream or run away from him, locking yourself in your room and finding your way back to Naples without him. He was ready for you to get angry or upset at him for not telling you sooner. Part of him regretted bringing it up already, feeling like he had thwarted his best attempt at love, but it wouldn’t be fair to keep you in the dark if he genuinely cared.

“Y/n, do you know what Passione is?”

You exhaled deeply, yes, you had heard of Passione, a hub for organised crime in the south of Italy. Was Bruno really part of them? When you think of mafiosi you imagine much older men, using laundered money for drugs, weapons, and exploiting women, at least that is the stereotype, was Bruno really one of them? Sweet, kind, generous, optimistic Bruno who you adored being around? The same Bruno who always helped anyone he saw? Who showed the utmost respect for all the older citizens and acted with integrity? You 100% believed that not everyone involved in crime is inherently bad, many people fall into it at low points of their lives, you knew that Bruno was a good man, regardless of his affiliation with the group.

When you didn’t respond, Bruno let go of you. “I knew this was a mistake, I should have just listened to Abbacchio and stopp-”

“Bruno,” You placed a hand on his, making him lose his train of thought, “I’m not upset that you’re in Passione.” You whispered, interlocking your fingers with his. “I don’t think less of you for it, I know that people can be put in situations that make them choose that path,” your eyes darted to the side, “but I believe you’re a good person Bruno, I really do. I’m not exactly in the safest position as a woman in a foreign country, but I feel so safe with you Bruno, regardless of Passione.” You meant everything you said, keeping your eyes locked on him to show your sincerity. “I-”

Before you could speak, Bruno’s lips were on yours.

His hand remained holding yours, though squeezing slightly tighter now, while his free hand held the side of your face. His lips were soft against yours as his thumb pressed against your cheekbone. Slowly he pulled away, rubbing his nose against yours slightly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t apologise, really.” You squeezed his hand gently.

Bruno’s hand found itself fitting perfectly in the curve of your waist. “I want to be with you y/n, not just for this trip.” His voice was shaky, he tried his best to not push too hard. “It’s okay for you to say no, it is.”

“I want to be with you too Bruno, I really do.” Without thinking, your hand moved up to hold the side of his neck, feeling the heat radiating off him before moving down to his shoulder. “Can I ask, Bruno…why are you with them?”

He took a deep breath, already regretting what he was about to say. Bruno never liked talking about this incident, he never told anyone this story, not even his old girlfriends. “My father was in an accident when he was 12. He was in the hospital and one night some people tried to…to kill him.” The sympathetic look in your eyes made it easier for him to talk. “He wasn’t in a gang or anything, he was just an ordinary person. I was in the room when they snuck in, two men, I-” His words got trapped in his throat.  “I killed them.” He could tell from the small changes in your breathing, your posture, the glint in your eyes, that despite keeping an open mind about Passione, you couldn’t fully wrap your head around him being tied to murder. “If I didn’t they would have killed my father and come after me, there was nothing else I could do.” He begged, pleading for you to at least hear him out, scared that you would leave him after such a confession. “I had to go underground, I can’t do anything with something like that on my record.” The silence that followed was deafening, the sound of his heartbeat rang through his ears as his chest heaved slowly.

“It’s okay Bruno…it really is.” You whispered, “You’re the first person to know this and not run away or use me.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you, I’ve had my fair share of bad relationships. You’re the first person I’ve been able to actually feel happy with, Bruno, the first person to actually make me feel like you care.”

“Of course, I care about you bella, you mean the most to me. I hate that people have treated you that way, you deserve everything I could possibly give you and more…everything.”

The rest of dinner carried on smoothly, with Bruno’s seat much closer to yours and his hand resting on your knee. His eyes were more focused on you than the delicious food in front of him. His heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest as your leg brushed up against him and your perfume wafted into his nose. Bruno really did think you were beautiful, the way your dark hair fell to your shoulders, contrasting your crimson dress. How your cheeks turned rosy when you laughed, or your tendency to fiddle with the hem of your clothing when you were tired. There had always been something in him that knew he had feelings towards you, but kissing you, even though it was brief, solidified his feelings.

Neither of you pushed any further about the kiss, nor did you talk about your beat-around-the-bush confessions. Instead, once dinner was over, you made your way back to the hotel silently.

“I guess I will see you in the morning then?” Bruno asked, letting out a soft laugh as you stood in front of your respective doors.

“Yeah, I guess I will.” You smiled as you waved each other goodbye. It wasn’t until you had both returned to your rooms that you were able to release the tension in your body. The kiss still lingered on your lips as you pulled your night shirt over your head and you could feel your face get warmer. You couldn’t deny that the idea of him kissing you was something buried in the back of your mind, especially when he would hold you in close embraces and his natural scent would waft into your nose. There was a part of you that wanted to continue, that wanted to go to his room and lie with him on this warm evening in Amalfi. To feel what it would be like for him to hold you in his arms as more than just a friend. You shook your head, feeling like a young teenager having their first kiss.

With a heavy sigh, you turned your attention to the TV opposite your bed and flicked through the channels, landing on what looked like a random soap opera. By your bed was a small menu with all the items available for room service and decided on a jug of lemonade to cool you down. When there was a knock just two minutes later, you were a little surprised by the speed of service. You were even more surprised by seeing Bruno standing by your door.

Bruno had been standing outside your door for the past five minutes, contemplating knocking on your door. Would he be intruding? Jumping to conclusions over a simple kiss?

Ah, but it wasn’t a simple kiss was it, you had confessed your feelings to each other.

But you only had three more days in Naples, maybe this was your way of getting some sort of closure, getting your feelings out on the table before you disappear and never cross paths again. Even on the off chance that anything came from this, it doesn’t mean it wouldn’t be weird for him to approach you like this.

While Bruno reasoned this in his head, his body had other plans. It wasn’t until you swung the door open that he realised he had already knocked. 

“Hi,” He swallowed, awkwardly placing his hands behind his back. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

You shook your head as you opened the door wider, welcoming him into your room. “No no, I just haven’t been able to sleep.”

“Me neither.” He perched on the edge of the desk, watching the television next to it. “What are you watching?”

“I have no idea, I couldn’t figure out how to put it in English.” The silence from both of you overpowered the noise from the TV. Usually you would bounce off each other better, but the events at dinner seemed to leave you both somewhat shy. Deep down, you both wanted more, but neither of you had the confidence to make the first move.

Bruno walked over to you, sitting next to you on your bed, knee brushing against yours.

“Y/n…” He started, taking your hand in his, “I meant everything I said earlier, about how I feel about you.” His slender fingers traced the lines of your palm slowly. “In a perfect world, I’d want you to be with you, properly. But I know that you have to go back home soon, I understand if this has to end here.”

“It doesn’t have to.” The words spilt out of your mouth before you could even process them properly. “I mean…I can always come back, maybe sometimes you can visit me.” A long-distance relationship wasn’t something you ever really thought you would find yourself pursuing, but you couldn’t miss this opportunity with Bruno.

“I like that idea.” Bruno smiled, interlocking his fingers with yours before ducked down for another kiss, this one was shorter and sweeter, the type that gives you a warm feeling in yout gut. It was like a bridge had formed between the two of you and any worries about intimacy had been crossed out. “Out of curiosity, when are you next free?” His enthusiasm made you giggle.

You tapped your chin, recalling what you discussed with your boss before you left for Italy. “I have to use up my holidays within the next three months, maybe I can come back before they’re over.” You grinned widely, enjoying the way he his face softened at your words.

“Can’t you stay a little longer? Use up your holidays now?” He pulled you onto his lap, kissing all over your face. His demeanour had suddenly changed, knowing that he might only have to wait a couple of months to see the woman he cared so much about. You giggled as you held his broad shoulders, squeezing them lightly as you tried to pull him away from your face. He ducked down to nibble where your neck connected to your head, trying to coax you into staying.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, “I can’t afford it Bruno, and besides, I signed papers with my boss saying I would be back to work next week.” You felt him sigh against your neck.

“How much more time do you have left to use on holidays?”

“10 days I think.”

“I’ll book you a flight.”

“Bruno!” You pulled away, pinching his soft cheek “Do you not trust me?”

“Of course I do bella, but I just think it’s easier to book now that the prices are cheaper.” He wrapped his arms tighter around your form. It didn’t take long for his lips to fall back on yours, moving between them and your neck, only to be broken by a knock on your door.

“So sorry for the wait signorina, the machine wasn’t working.” The waiter apologised profusely as he placed your lemonade on the table.

“It’s no problem, thank you.” You smiled, closing the door behind him. You both shared a few glasses of the cool drink, talking more about the possibility of you coming back to Naples. Despite his earlier energetic behaviour, Bruno was quite understanding of the situation. He knew that compromises would have to be made and that things may not always work out, but regardless, he chose to be optimistic about the situation.

Once the jug’s contents had been thoroughly depleted, you found yourselves tucked under your bedsheets. You didn’t realise how tired you were until you fell asleep so quickly against his soft t-shirt, to the sound of his heartbeat. Cool air blew through the window, making you press up against him in your sleep as his hands moved down to hold your waist. Bruno’s heart was pounding like it wanted to leap right out of his ribcage. Being here, holding you, this was all he wanted. For the first time in so long, he felt like he was happy again, like you were the one for him. He gave up on this feeling ages ago, not wanting to risk another heartbreak, but now he couldn’t resist it.

He was in love.

**************************************************

Sunday was quite simple. Breakfast at a lovely little cafe, a bike ride through Sorrento and lunch back at the hotel. This was certainly not the first time you and Bruno had gone out together, but this time was different. The way he held your hand, your waist, hugged you, everything felt different now, a good type of different.

This “good different” continued to Monday and Tuesday, with Bruno being even more of a gentleman to you. He made sure to cherish every moment with you like he was making up for lost time.

The sun peeked through the window, highlighting your body as you hummed in your sleep. Bruno had been awake for a while now, the lump in his throat and the twists in his stomach making it harder to enjoy the warm summer morning.

Today was your last day, the last time he would be able to see you for who knows how long. He always knew you would leave, Naples wasn’t your home after all, and there is a chance it may never be. But now that the dreaded day had come, it just made his chest ache to the point where it made his head spin.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer until your back was pressed against him, allowing him to nuzzle into your neck. You groaned quietly, fidgeting in your sleep before settling once more. Bruno used this as an opportunity to place a kiss on your neck, enjoying the sweet natural scent emanating from your body. He slid his other arm under your body, hugging you properly as your legs tangled together under his sheets.

“Bruno…” You grinned, feeling the pressure of his body against you as he had you in a tight embrace. “I need my sleep you know?” You patted the side of his face lightly, enjoying the warmth emanating from his soft cheek.

His heart hurt even more hearing your voice, knowing this would be the last time he would hear it in person. “y/n…” He whispered, holding your hand gently in his, bringing it down to the soft mattress and interlocking your fingers with his. “When is your flight?” He mumbled into your neck, eyes locked on his thumb stroking your skin.

You inhaled sharply, realising why his tone had been so mellow this morning. “6 pm, there’s been a car arranged.” You bit your bottom lip, feeling Bruno lean away from you with a deep sigh. His arms left your body cold air hit your back.

“I’ll come with you, I’ll see you off at security.” Bruno said, laying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. You turned around to face him, watching the sun highlight the lower half of his face and chest, coating them in a pale yellow glaze. His lips were downturned slightly, forming an involuntary frown as his eyebrows furrowed. His expression made your heart sink to your stomach, you knew you would miss him so much.

You scooched closer, resting a head on his flattened shoulder as your fingers traced his chest gently. “I’ll come back Bruno,” You dragged your fingers down to his navel. “I promise.” You looked up at him, catching how his eyes shifted from you as soon as you made eye contact, realising that you caught him staring. His cheekbones were softly dusted with pink as he cleared his throat.

“I know you will, and I’ll find time to visit you.” He cupped the side of your face, “but you can’t blame me for being a little upset that you’re leaving.”

“I know, I am too.” You gave a half-smile, holding his wrist. Seeing you frown made his heart sink even more, it wasn’t his intention to dampen the mood so early in the morning.

“Y/n, why don’t we go to Libeccio? For your last meal here?” Bruno asked. Ending the trip with the place you met seemed perfect. It also gave Bruno the opportunity to make sure you received the best service possible.

“I’d love to.”

You both laid in bed for a while, enjoying each other’s warmth until noon when you finally got up for lunch. You wore a simple sundress with a red flower pattern along it, something that Bruno absolutely adored on you. Hand in hand, you left his home for the restaurant, deciding to have one last walk through the streets you grew to love. Libeccio was slightly quieter than usual, what with it being lunchtime on a Wednesday, this at least made it easier to talk to each other.

“Oh? If it isn’t the two lovebirds!” A familiar voice called, you looked up to see Mista leaning on the back of Bruno’s chair, much to his dismay, poking his nose into his menu. Bruno had made the mistake of being open to the group about his feelings for you, this ultimately left him vulnerable to childish teasing which would surely get worse when you weren’t around. “Y/n, Bucciarati says you’re leaving today?”

“Mhm, I need to leave for the airport in a few hours.”

“Ah, this one will certainly miss you,” He nudged Bruno with his elbow, “he goes on and on about you all the time anyways.” He scoffed.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Bruno asked, not bothering to look up from the menu.

“I actually came to collect an order,” He lifted up the black bag in his hand, that explained the sudden smell of shrimp. “But I might as well give Y/n a goodbye hug.” Mista walked towards you, pulling you out of your seat and hugging you tightly. Bruno knew what Mista was doing by pressing his palms on your lower back and hugging you for much longer than what was needed. But it was in his nature to tease people like that, after all, you and Mista grew to be quite good friends, and you both knew he was playing around. “Make sure to come back soon!” Mista waved as he left the restaurant.

Bruno turned back to you to see a smirk across your lips. “What?” He asked, tilting his head to the side.

“Your face when Mista hugged me, I didn’t think it would get to you.” You laughed, flicking through the calzones section of the menu.

“Can you blame me for being a little jealous?” Bruno sighed, closing his menu and placing it on the table. He waved at one of the waiters, a tall, slender young man with long wavy hair, eager to take your orders.

Over lunch, you discussed plans for when you went back home: how to fit your schedules around each other, the possibility of sending each other gifts, and Bruno travelling to visit you. The thoughts alone brought butterflies to your stomach, the idea of Bruno being in your home, visiting your favourite places, your family and friends even. You already had a list of things to do with him buried at the back of your mind.

Once the plates were cleared and the bill was paid, you found yourselves in a small park, wandering along the footpaths that weaved along the luscious green grass, between the thick oak trees.

“Y/n…we need to get to the airport soon.” Bruno whispered, pulling your waist towards him as he sandwiched you between him and an old tree.

“Mhm.” You rest your head on his shoulder in a warm embrace, his rich cologne flooding your nose with a scent you would soon miss.

“Y/n…mi bella.” The pet name made your heart well up. “I know we haven’t been together for a long time but…the feelings I have for you, it’s like I-”

“I know what you mean Bruno.” You cut him off quietly, tugging his soft cotton shirt. You felt the same way Bruno did, the tingles you got when he held your hand, the way your body perfectly moulded into his, how your stomach twisted and turned anytime he looked you in the eye. Somehow, somewhere, along the line, you realised that you had fallen in love with the kind mafioso that swept you off your feet.

“So you love me too bella?” Bruno asked, a teasing tone to his words as his lips met your forehead.

You rolled your eyes playfully, enjoying how his soft lips felt against your skin. “Well if I have to put it in words, then yes.”

Bruno’s heart pounded in his chest, he could feel the shakiness in his breathing from the relief of knowing that you felt the same way he did. It was almost laughable how quickly the chains around his heart loosened when you appeared. How his vows to never give in to another person were discarded as he got closer and closer to you. You were perfect to him, everything he wanted and more, and he knew he couldn’t just let you leave without letting you know how much power you had over him and his weak heart.

“Bella, I love you so much, more than I’ve ever loved anyone. Please remember that, always, even if I’m not there with you.”

“I love you too Bruno, truly I do. I haven’t felt this way with anyone in so long I-” Bruno’s lips pressed gently against yours, stealing your breath away.

“I’m sorry to cut you off but you just look so cute, why do you have to leave today bella, stay here with me a little longer.” He groaned, placing a soft kiss on your forehead, knowing how much he would miss this.

“Believe me, I want that more than anything, but I have to go back, Bruno.” The thought of not being able to hold him like this, to not stroke his soft black hair or look into his warm eyes, ate away at you.

“We should probably head to the airport soon then.”

Within the hour, you were at the airport, waiting in the busy queue to check in your luggage, while Bruno held you from behind, chin resting on your head. You ended up with one extra bag, filled with gifts for your friends and family: trinkets, snacks, clothing, as well as things that Bruno bought you.

“When you land, let me know okay?” Bruno hugged you one last time, his hands memorising the curve of your body, ingraining everything from your scent to the softness of your skin in his memory. His lips moved to kiss your forehead gently, “Y/n…I won’t pretend like I’m not going to miss you every day. I want us to work out bella, I’ll take time to visit you whenever I can okay?” The slight sniffles and breaks in his voice made your heart sink. Bruno loved you so much, more than he could contain, and you felt the same way about him as you inhaled his rich cologne.

“Bruno, I’ll miss you just as much, if not, more.” You whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll call you as soon as I get back mi amore.” Hearing you use that name on him made his stomach twist and turn. Being called that, by you, in your voice that soothed his soul made his heart beat even faster. At that point, he just had to steal another kiss from you, a passionate one that stuck on your lips even after you pulled away.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, letting you cross the barrier to find your gate, and with tears welling in both of your eyes, you waved each other goodbye, thankful for this spontaneous trip that brought the two of you together.