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writingsbychlo · 5 years ago

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to fix a broken promise | stuart twombly

word count; 8919

summary; stuart makes a pretty big mistake and breaks a promise to you, and now he has to try and make it up.

notes; this is the first of two parts in a little tribute for my best gal @stylesharrys and her birthday. happy birthday, babey, you deserve it, just for putting up with my dumbass. the second part is the actual happy birthday bit, this just leads up to it.

warnings; smut, pretty tame to be fair, that’s about it.

Throwing his bag down onto his desk, he rubbed at his eyes, a headache forming at his temples as he tried to shake the unsettling feeling that he was forgetting something. He had his laptop charger, he had his laptop, he had a mug of coffee, he had his wallet, his phone, his house keys, he had everything, so why did he feel like something was off?

Chalking up to stress form the project they were currently working on, he flopped down onto his seat, spinning slightly in the office chair before tucking himself under his desk, humming happily as he took a deep gulp of the hot and bitter liquid. Not that it was bitter anymore, after he’d put plenty of milk and sugar into it. Opening the lid of his laptop, he pressed down on the ‘on�� button, a soft sound filling the room as the device began it’s boot up, and he sent a small nod to his coworker as she all but skipped into the room, plopping down into own seat at the desk opposite his as she got herself started up for the day as a much faster speed than he was doing.

“So, you must be excited, then?”

Stuart’s eyebrows furrowed as he looked at her, arranging all her trinkets and photos around her perfectly as she typed in her password, looking up over the edge of the computer to him, brows raised as she waited for an answer. Excited wasn’t exactly the word he would use, more like relieved. This project had been killing him for the last few weeks, he’d been throwing everything he had into it in hopes of getting a subtly promised promotion and pay rise in the outcome. Simply sending her a nod, he hummed, and she seemed to accept that answer as she grinned, and he tuned her out as she began to go off into a description of a dress she was going to wear for some kind of event as some point.

Typing in his password, he ran a hand over his face, taking a deep breath as he set off on a long days work of polishing up and perfecting the project he’d been putting his everything into for the last couple of months. He’d been pulling long nights in the office, often not going home until the sun had sunken behind the horizon, and sometimes even arriving before it had risen again in the morning.

He knew he probably should have balanced his time in a more effective way, but this way important to him, it was the first truly solo project he had been given and he wanted it to be flawless, he wanted to know he could produce something of merit and worth, and he knew he could if he put in all the work, and he had. He’d cancelled twice on his monthly visits to see his mom for it, promising that he’d come down for a whole weekend to make up for it once it was over. He’d denied every chance his friends had invited him out, opting to work on his project, and you had supported him. You’d brought him coffee and meals to his home office when he was working on the weekends, and you’d forced him to go to bed, no matter how much he’d huffed and puffed about it, only to ass out as soon as his head had hit the pillow.

The day had flown by, his stomach rumbling when lunch had rolled around and he’d actually smiled - genuinely - at Billy when the man brought him back a grilled cheese and chocolate muffin for him, a bottle of water on the side. He’d made a mental note to do something nice for the man in return, enjoying the large hand that had patted down on his shoulder as the taller colleague left him to it.

He hadn't quite realised how late it had gotten until he looked around and noticed that he was now alone in the office, his eyes glancing down to the clock in the bottom corner of his computer. Almost eight PM. He shook his head, his neck and back aching from his work and he stretched his arms up above his head, unable to hold back the grin on his lips as he hit save on his project, finished and ready to send it off. As soon as the small ‘whoosh’ sound of the email being delivered sounded out from his laptop, he cheered to himself quietly, shutting down the device and leaning his head back, letting his eyes slide closed for a moment.

He took a second, in his own solitude and joy, basking in the success of finishing his first project to the best of his ability, before rubbing at his eyes and standing up to pack away slowly. The lights in the corridor had gone off with the little movement, and so when they all began to flick on one by one, a single pair of footsteps echoing along the marble tiles, his head flicked up, meeting those of his boss as Stuart stood up straight, tugging his coat up his arms and fastening it as Chetty pushed the office door open, leaning on the glass panel as his brows furrowed.

“Twombly. What are you still doing here?”

Stuart cleared his throat, packing his bag and zipping it up as he licked over his lips, processing his words as his mind chugged slowly with his exhaustion. “Finishing up my project, sir. I just sent it over to you, I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

“I didn’t think you would still be here, isn’t tonight a special night?” The man chuckled out his words, and Stuart rubbed his hands in front of himself, brows furrowing as he rolled on the balls of his feet.

“Uh, what do you mean?”

“Isn’t tonight the night of your girlfriend’s charity event thing? Your whole office booked it off weeks ago, I had to approve all their day-off requests.” Stuart’s stomach dropped, and he felt like his blood was running cold, turning to cement in his veins as his heart just stopped beating.

That had been the feeling of something off. It had been so many months since you’d excitedly told him about it. Your work was throwing a charity event, hoping to raise some money to replace some of the equipment and get better facilities to help the residents in your care, and perhaps even take them all on a day trip out to cheer up some of those who needed it. You were giving a speech, a speech he was supposed to have helped you write and he’d been so busy with his own work that he’d completely forgotten.

He excused himself quickly, Chetty wishing him luck as he dashed outside to his car, the cold of the night hitting him at once as he made the quick walk across the campus to the car park, his feet stumbling under him as he tried to pull his phone out of his pocket. He had turned it off to stop it from distracting him, and he tapped his fingers against his leg anxiously as he watched the notifications suddenly become pouring in.

He had two missed calls and three texts from you, and a range of calls and texts from his team, before it had all gone silent around about an hour ago, and he swallowed thickly, opening a new message to you and nervously swiping his fingers over the electronic keys.

I’m on my way, baby! I’m so sorry! Be there soon! xxxx

He hopped into his car, running a hand through his hair and taking a deep breath as he thought about what he had to do. Firstly, he had to go home and change into his suit. He knew how formal this event was, and suddenly he realised why Neha had been droning on for almost thirty minutes this morning about her favourite types of formal dresses.

[Baby 🌹]

dont bother. already did my speech.

He felt sick to his stomach as he read the message, you had blatantly told him not to come, and the normal slew of kisses and emojis you normal gave him were absent, his heart clenching painfully as he made his way home slowly, cursing to himself under his breath.

Stuart had actually collapsed on the couch from how much pacing he had done, his legs aching and he was certain the carpet actually looked a little worn down from all the walking back and forth he had done. His leg would not stop jittering, no matter what he did, and his dinner had long since been cleared away, half-eaten as he gave up, worry gnawing at his insides as he awaited your arrival home.

He was just pulling out his phone to text you, to find out where you were as the late hours of the night dragged on, when he finally heard the screech of tires on the sidewalk outside the house, and he peered through the curtains, watching as you got out of the cab, waving to Neha and the others as they handed you your shoes, your body stumbling up the garden as the car pulled away, and he dashed to the front door, uncoding the latch and swinging it open to look at you.

You were paused, your key half-way to the door as you paused to look up at him, and he worried his bottom lip between his teeth, his brow furrowed as you burst out in a fit of giggles, falling forward slightly and his hands came down to grip at your hips as he guided you into the house, your heels being thrown haphazardly to the floor.

Raking his eyes along you, he swallowed thickly as he took in your makeup, hair done to perfection and a beautiful dress hanging on your body, and he recognised the colour, your dress the same shade as the tie you’d asked him if he liked a few weeks back, the one still sitting out on the counter below the mirror in your shared room. Your hands pushed his away from you, a giggled mumble of ‘I got it’ being provided as you made your way through the corridors, stumbling along happily in your steps as he followed behind you.

“Baby, I’m really sorry. I haven’t been there for you lately, and I was supposed to help you write your speech for tonight, I really fucked up.” His hands were wringing in front of his body as he watched you make your way through the one-story home to your bedroom, hands tugging idly at the zipper on the back of your dress and he reached in, undoing it for you carefully as you stripped down, leaving it in a heap on the floor.

“Doesn’t matter. I wrote my speech myself, and it was fuckin’ ace!” Your arms flew up as you spoke, a wide smile shining on your lips and he scooped your dress up, folding it delicately and placing it on your dresser as you ran your fingers through your hair, pulling out all the clips that held it up in it’s pretty style, building up a small collection on your nightstand.

“I know, but I’m still sorry. Work has just been crazy lately, an-”

“Funny, you couldn’t make it because work had been ‘oh so crazy’, but all the rest of your team did. Every single one of them showed up, but nobody knew where you were.” it was the first bit of venom you had held to him so far, and his blood ran cold, watching as you shrugged and turned away from him, laying your pyjamas out before you as you looked at them carefully, saying in your spot slightly from the alcohol in your blood and he gaped at you, unsure what to say as more apologies began to fly from his mouth, and you held your hand up to silence him, a small smile on your lips. “Don’t worry about it, Stu. I get it.”

“You.. get it?”

You giggled, deciding you wanted a shower as you kicked off your panties and undid the clasp of your bra, dropping the items into the laundry hamper as you padded across the room. “Yeah, I get it. Work is more important than relationships to some people, you’re married to your job, or whatever. It’s cool. It’s good to know. You’re one of those people, you can’t help it.”

You patted his chest as you walked past, a slight skip in your step as you made your way through the house to get to the bathroom, and he watched you go, his mind blank and ears ringing as he thought about your statement. He stumbled over his own feet as he followed after you, your hand under the water as you checked it’s temperature, waiting for it to warm up and you glanced at him over your shoulder, his shoulders sagging and a frown on his lips.

You simply offered him a smile, deciding the water was warm enough, and you turned to him before stepping under the stream, clearing your throat. “Will you make us a snack? I’m super hungry, and if I don’t eat, I’ll throw up in the morning.” You punctuated the statement with a small laugh as you fumbled for the body wash, a dopey grin on your face as you groaned out at the sensation of the warm water cascading over your head.

He simply smiled, guilt swelling in his gut as he moved from the bathroom and clicked the door shut softly behind him, pressing his forehead to the cool wood as he cursed under his breath, no idea how he could have let it get to the point that you thought he prioritized his job over you, and yet he could understand exactly why you thought that. He moved around the kitchen quietly, choking down his sadness as he tried to make you both something to eat, something that would help soak up all the drinks you’d consumed tonight so you wouldn't feel so bad in the morning, and he was just finishing up by the time you came downstairs.

Your wet hair was hanging behind you as you moved around in the space, leaving a slight damp patch on the back of the oversized shirt you were wearing over a pair of sleep shorts, a happy gasp on your lips as he placed the steaming plate of food before you. “A cheeseburger! Fuck, yeah!” He chuckled at your enthusiasm, sitting down to eat his own food as he watched you took in happily, sipping at the cold glass of water he’d provided for you between bites, small hums of satisfaction leaving you as you ate.

“Did it, um.. did it go well then?” He wasn’t sure how his question would be taken, and your eyes ficked up form your plate to look at him, stilling momentraily, before you licked the ketchup from he edge of your mouth and nodded at him, taking off into a detailed description of everything you had done during the night. You spoke about everything from the socialising to the donations to the pictures you had taken, and while he was overjoyed to see that you’d had such a good time, it only made it feel even worse for not being there. His team, his friends had all been there to support you, no matter how busy they had all been with their own work and lives, and as you showed him the picture of you all in front of one of the screens, wide smiles on all of your faces, he felt his gut twist as he noticed himself being the only face missing from the joyful lineup.

Leaving the plates in the sink to be washed in the morning, you seemed to have sobered up a little thanks to your food and the water, your footsteps more steady as you made your way to the bathroom to clean your teeth. He followed behind you shortly after, having checked that all the doors were locked and that the lights were all switched off, and you were just finishing when he arrived.

He took his time, changing into his pyjamas and getting himself ready for bed, your body curled around one of your pillows as you hugged it to your chest, your back facing his side of the bed when he finally came to crawl under the sheets. It felt unusual to sleep on his side, he was so used to sleeping on his back as you curled into his side, and yet now, he threw an arm over your waist, holding you gently and sighing out under his breath when you didn’t move back into him in the dark, instead choosing to remain where you were.

Nuzzling into his pillow, he decided that he would definitely make it up to you, and he would call into work tomorrow to book the day off and spend it with you. There was a small smile on his lips as he thought about how he would make it up to you as he drifted off into a peaceful slumber.

When Stuart awoke in the morning, he was filled with a whole new kind of energy as he set his mind toward making up for the mess he’d made. Your side of the bed was empty when he woke up, the sheets cold as he stretched, listening out to see if he could hear your movements around the house.

Rolling out of the bed, he rubbed at his eyes and fumbled for his glasses as he made his way through the home, the corridors and rooms silent, and he let out a low groan under his breath as he noticed your work shoes missing from the space they normally occupied on the rack by the door. Upon seeing the folded paper sitting on the kitchen counter, he already anticipated the words written on the paper, and yet he looked at it anyway, his body deflating as his plan to fix things all came crashing down around him once again.

‘picked up an extra shift, home at the usual time. x’

He ran a hand over his face, glancing at the clock and deciding that with nothing better to do, he may as well go to work and see Neha. If anyone could tell him how to fix a fuck-up this collosal, it was her.

He felt especially lonely while he was getting ready to go to work, the word now having a bitter taste in his mouth as he thought about the place that had consumed so much of his time that he’d completely forgotten about all the things that really mattered. The car journey was boring, and he made a quick stop at the store on his way, knowing that he may well have to bribe Neha into helping him.

His feet dragged along the floor as he neared his team office, his body riddled with anxiety and he felt weighed down, the tension making him swallow thickly as he finally pushed the door open, and the chatter in the office fell silent as he entered, all eyes on him curiously, and he offered them a tight lipped smile, letting the door shut behind him as he entered the room.

Neha was the first to approach, as he’d expected, slapping the back off his head as she tutted at him, wandering off to the kitchen, and he didn’t even bother to complain. Lyle quickly made himself busy, heading off to his desk, and Yoyo refused to meet his eyes as he spun around in his desk chair, typing at his computer. Both Billy and Nick were fixing him with looks he didn’t quite understand, and he sighed out, holding up the box in his arms.

“I brought you guys donuts.” He waved the box, dropping it down onto the central table and pushing it toward the middle as everyone looked on curiously, and Billy and Nick shared a look, cracking open the box each as they seperated on the couch, Nick patting at the space between them.

“Grab a ring and take a seat, my man.” Stuart did as he was told, taking a plain glazed donut and making his way towards them, Billy’s eyebrows shooting up as he watched Stuart move, mumbling under his breath at his surprise at not getting fought on the request, and he didn’t even have it in him to fight. He really could use the advice right now.

Collapsing down into the space, his fingers nudged his glasse sup as he ran a hand over his face, adjusting the specs back on his nose properly as he stared down at the treat in his hand, not really feeling entirely deserving of it and he leaned over, placing it down on the table as the two men either side of him chomped happily on theirs. “What happened, kid?”

“I don’t know. I forgot.”

The blond hummed, licking the icing from his fingers as he thought about it, and Billy clasped his free hand down on his shoulder. “Well, first of all, I think you should know that she was a superstar last night. She did her speech - very moving, by the way - and then talked to pretty much everyone. I think they did really well, she was on fire, really.” Nick smacked Billy behind him as Stuart bit his lower lip, nodding at the words.

“I’m glad, really. I wish I’d been there. I really fucked up. Thank you for looking after her, and for bringing her home.” Stuart whispered, sinking further into the seat and rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans. He felt a large hand muss up his hair in a playful movement, and he couldn’t even form a glare for the tall man who had done it, instead just letting his head roll back on the edge of the couch so he could stare at the ceiling.

“You really feel bad, huh?”

“Yeah. I don’t know how to fix this, guys. She thinks I care more about work than her, and can you even blame her?” Tears were welling in his eyes and he scrunched them up, growling under his breath as he refused the emotions, choosing instead to just huff out his thoughts. “I love her so fucking much, and now, she thinks I’m never going to care about her as much as I care about my job.”

Silence sat over the room at his confession, and he sniffed lightly, not even resisting the comforting pat that was placed on his arm, and not even the clicking of keyboard tiles could be heard as they all listened in on his exclamation.

“So, just show her she’s more important than work is?” It was Lyle that eventually spoke, and Stuart lifted his head, cracking his eyes open to look at the man and his brows furrowed, eyes squinting for a second as he willed away the sting of tears that hadn't been released.

“Any suggestions on how to do that would be greatly appreciated.”

All eyes turned to Neha, who was stirring her coffee, the spoon clinking against the edges of the mug as she pointedly avoided all the males’ gazes, before letting out something between a sigh and a groan, fixing Stuart with a glare as she gave in. “For the record, I’m only helping you because your girlfriend is awesome and deserves something great.”

“I could not agree more.” He muttered, and she pursed her lips, glancing at the open box of pastries on the table and Stuart offered her a grin as he sat forwards, pushing it towards her temptingly.

“And you brought donuts, so fine. I’ll help you.” The men either side of him cheered loudly, whooping and hollering as Stuart beamed, his cheeks flushing red as relief flooded his system, and Nick pointed at the sweet-treat he had abandoned at the beginning of the conversation.

“Eat your donut. We have a lot of work to do.

Nick had been right, there really was a lot of work to do. He had spent the day running around the office building to gather donations from every team he could think off, not backing down until he had checks written out just to get rid of him, a proud sum of money in a stacked collection of paper slips that he had placed into an envelope, sealing it tightly and tucking it into his bag.

It had taken hours for Neha to warm back up to him, but when she eventually had, she’d brainstormed ideas one how to fix things, and show that he really cared. He’d had to practically beg Chetty for the time off work two weeks from now, and the hour he had spent being chastised by your protective coworker on the phone had been the longest and most intimidating of his life, and he was almost afraid to show up at your work to collect you anymore.

The team had throw idea after idea at him, his mind spinning as he tried to process everything he could do, and that was exactly how he found himself standing nervously in the middle of the kitchen, his fingers drumming on the counter as she waited for you. The smell of your favourite freshly cooked dinner was hanging in the air, a bottle of wine sitting out on the perfectly laid candles flickering quietly as one of your playlists played low tunes in the background, two envelopes sitting on the table, one small and thick, the other large and flat.

Finally, the clicking of keys sounded in the doorway, your tired sigh following it as Stuart made his way into the corridor, awarding you a soft smile as he watched you toe off your shoes, wiggling your toes for relief as you hung up your coat.

“Smells good in here.”

He grinned, taking a step forward and lacing your fingers with his, raising your hand up until he could place small kisses to your knuckles, pushing his glasses back up his nose as you laughed gently at his actions. “I cooked.”

“Oh, good, I’m starving. I didn’t get a chance to grab breakfast this morning before they were calling me in and I had to go.” You chatted, brushing off the events of the previous night entirely as he guided you through to the kitchen, pulling your chair out for you as you looked around at his attempt at a romantic setting. “You know it’s not my birthday for like.. three weeks yet, right?”

“I know. But I wanted to do something nice for you. Show you how much you matter to me.” You fixed him with a curious look, your brows raised, but you took the seat he was offering, letting him tuck you under the table before taking the food from the oven where it had been keeping warm and quickly serving you both up a plate, handing it over to your waiting hands as you grinned at him.

He put his own food down in his place, before popping the cork on the bottle of wine, holding it up to you in a silent offer and you nodded, letting him pour you a glass, repeating it for himself as he moved to sit down, and your hand found a fistful of his shirt, pulling him down until you could place your lips on his gently, a sigh leaving him as he eagerly returned the sweet kiss. His hands cupped your cheeks delicately, and he smiled against your mouth, pulling away and placing a final kiss to your lips as he sat down. “This looks so good, Stu.”

“Well, I’ve made it enough times that I’m almost certain I got it right, so, here’s hoping.” You raised your glass at his joke, tapping it against his before lifting your fork, taking a bite of the food and taking a few test chews, before you were moaning out happily at the taste and placing another forkful between your lips, your eyes sliding shut. “This is exactly what I needed.”

He grinned, tucking into his own food as the two of you ate quietly, sipping at your wine and simply enjoying the music, occasionally humming along to the tunes as you ate. It was at least half way through your meal before you spoke up again, licking the sauce from your lips before guiding your gaze up to him, his gaze fixed on you as he waited for you to finish your mouthful before speaking up.

“So, how was work?”

He grimaced placing his knife and fork down as he shrugged and leaned back in his chair. “Fine. Nothing exciting happened. How was your day?”

Your brows rose as he dismissed the question, the forkful of pasta halfway to your mouth as you looked at him, your eyes narrowing slightly. “What? That can’t be true. You always want to talk about your day at work, or your big project, what’s going on?”

“None of that really matters, I’d much rather talk about you.” He confessed, and you chewed slowly as you looked at him, awarding him with a simple hum as you considered his words, and he ate anxiously as he watched you sip your wine to wash down to food, swilling it around your glass before finally speaking again.

“What did I say last night that’s making you act so different?”

His gut churned, his mouth dropping open and his cheeks flushed, his shoulders slumping as he looked at you and he let out a sigh under your gaze. “Is it really that obvious?”

“No, it’s just that you’ve been so preoccupied lately that something must have happened that made you suddenly take a night off work to cook and light candles and do all this. Seeing as you couldn't even make it to my charity event last night, something big must have happened. I’m assuming I said something about it to you last night when I got home. I’d had a fair amount to drink.” You shrugged, like it was the simplest thing in the world to say, and you continued eating as the man put down his knife and fork, watching you longingly.

“That’s just it, you didn’t say anything last night that isn’t true, that you haven’t said now.” He reached out across the table, taking one of your hands in both of his and smoothing his thumbs over your knuckles as he thought about his next words. “You said that you think I care more about my job than I care about you, and that it was okay because that’s just who I am, but it’s not okay, and that’s not who I want to be.”

“Oh, Stuart, I was dru-”

“No, don’t say it was because you were drunk, because I know that I’ve been a really shitty boyfriend lately. I just don’t want you to ever think that you aren’t the most important thing in my life, okay?” He paused, glancing up at you as you watched him carefully, giving him a small smile of encouragement. “I love you, so much.”

“I love you too, you know that.”

“I know, but I love you so much that you're all I want, you’re everything to me and I feel awful that I didn’t help with your speech and I wasn’t there to see you and support you. I feel so guilty, and I know one stupid dinner doesn’t make up for how I’ve been treating you lately, but I’m kinda’ hoping these will.”

He took one hand out of yours, handing you the small envelope and you opened it curiously, your jaw dropping as you laughed unbelievingly, flicking through all the slips in the envelope as you looked at them, all donations to your cause for getting better equipment and healthcare for the residents in your care. “Holy shit, Stuart! What did you do, go door to door at Google?” Your words were joking, but he scratched at the back of his neck, chuckling under his breath.

“Yes, actually. I was very persistent and incredibly annoying. Unlocked my secret ability to be a door-to-door salesman, apparently.” You merely rolled your eyes, placing the envelope back down as he grinned, and you pushed your chair back, rounding the table and standing before him, hands on his cheek as you pulled his face in towards you for another kiss, but he moved at the last minute, head twisting in your arms as he reached for the other envelope, and your hands moved down to loop around his neck. “That one was for making it up to you for not being at your event yesterday. This one is for making it up to you for being such a crappy boyfriend lately. It’s also a birthday present.”

You cooed at him, taking the envelope and pushing his hands out from where they were covering the front of his body, and you seated yourself happily across his lap, one of his arms coming to fasten around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as he watched you skim your thumb under the seal of the envelope to open it. Pulling out the collection of papers, you scanned your eyes over the front page of it, laughing lightly under your breath.

“I’m taking a week off work?”

“Keep looking.” He grinned, and you moved the page that had the details of you week off from work printed on to the back of the stack, the familiar bright colours of the google insignia standing out on the crisp white paper as you read quietly, the words mumbled from your lips as he watched you carefully, pulling back to press a kiss to your shoulder, before balancing his chin there once again.

“We’re taking a week off work?”

“Mhm. There’s more, you haven’t even seen the best part yet.” Your brows raised, and you twisted in his arms to press a kiss to his lips, a happy hum sounding from him before he pulled back, lips still puckered and a whine in his throat. “No, no, read first. Kiss me after.”

“Okay, okay!” You chuckled at his enthusiasm, flicking the paper over and shaking your head fondly as you turned to look at the papers. Your eyes moved over the page once, twice, three times before your jaw dropped, your face turning to Stuart’s as your eyes searched his. It was silent for a moment, the papers in your hands being placed down as you turned to look at him fully, your hands holding his face firmly between your hands as he beamed at you, a wide and toothy grin on his face. “Why am I looking at plane tickets to Rome?”

Your voice was uncertain and shaky, and his smile only widened as he looked at you. “What reason could we possibly have for plane tickets?” He moved the seat reservations from your sights to show you the final paper, the hotel room tickets and details on the final one. “I can’t possibly imagine why we would have a hotel booked too, b-”

“We’re going to Italy?”

“We’re going to Italy!” He watched your reaction, a loud squeal leaving you as you jumped up from his lap, cheering loudly as you shook the papers, practically bouncing up and down on the spot as you cheered happily. He stood up, his hands finding your hips as he pulled you toward him, taking the papers from your hands and placing them down on the table, your chest pressed flush up to his as his arms wound around your waist. “So, forgiven?”

“Hm, I think so.” You teased, your nose bumping against his and he let the weight from his shoulders fall away as he relaxed under your touch.

“Kisses now?”

“Oh, I’m going to do a lot more than kiss you, Stuart Twombly.” Your hand around his neck pulled him down, your mouths meeting in a heated embrace and he groaned into your mouth, licking along your lower lip as his fingers dug into your hips. He dipped you backwards a little, your body arching into his as he leaned down, your tongues tangling together happily, your fingers moving to play with the shorter hairs at the nape of his neck.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Stuart.” You mumbled the words into his mouth and he growled, nipping at your lower lip as he hummed, pressing a few more long kisses to your lips. “Now, are you going to take me to bed or not?” He nodded, smirking down at you as he guiding you backwards in slow steps, navigating you through the halls of your home, your feet moving in slow steps as he moved you, until you were standing in the middle of your bedroom, soft smacking sounds of your kisses echoing from the walls. Your hands smoothed up into his hair to tug on the soft chocolate strands, his own palms sliding down from your hips until he was squeezing at your ass roughly, your soft pants being swallowed by him as he kissed your hungrily, tongue dragging against your own.

“What do you want, sweetheart? Tell me how to make you happy.” You pulled back, peppering kisses along the smooth skin of his jaw as he tipped his head back for you, his breathing shallow as you did and he held you close to him.

“You do make me happy, Stuart.”

“Then tell me how to make you moan.” His voice was husky, and you took your lower lip between your teeth, whimpering under your breath as he dipped his own head, sucking on the sweet spot he knew so well as he licked over your skin, kissing and nibbling as he worked to leave a mark that wouldn't fade for days to come.

“Just show me how much you love me.”

“I can do that.” His fingers moved up, dancing along your waist as he pulled up the hem of your shirt, tugging the cotton item up and over your head, dropping it to the floor. He kissed along your neck, sinking lower and lower until he was dropping to his knees. He left open mouthed kisses along the skin of your stomach, nimble fingers popping open the button on your jeans as he inched them down and along your thighs, your hands on his shoulders as you stepped out of the restrictive material, kicking them away.

His hand smoothed up and over your thighs, massaging at the muscles tenderly before standing back to his full height, hands on your cheeks to pull your lips back to his. You didn’t even realise he was walking you backwards until your legs met the edge of the mattress, his fingers toying with the clasp of your bra, getting it undone and stripping it from your body, large and calloused palms cupping your tits and squeezing them lightly between his fingers.

Your mewls reached his ears only seconds later, your nails raking over his chest and you tugged idly on on his t-shirt, whining into his mouth.

“I want this off.” You whispered, and he chuckled deeply, stepping away from you to discard the shirt, his bare skin reflecting the dull lighting of the room, your eyes tracing each individual mole and freckle marked on his skin, the dark marks standing out prominently on his pale flesh and you swallowed thickly, licking over your lips as you took in the shirtless sight of the man you loved.

Catching your fingers in the belt loops of his khakis, you tugged his hips toward you, your lips pressings sweet kisses along his shoulders, and his rough hands rubbed up and down your sides, your skin erupting in goosebumps as heat flooded your body, leaving your skin flushed under your boyfriend’s lustful gaze. “These too?”

Two of his own fingers hooked under the waistband of his pants, tugging them away from his body a little and snapping them against his skin, your head moving before you could stop it, lips parted and mouth dry and you shivered under the look he was giving you. “Yes, please.”

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

He winked at you, his smirk never fading as he undid the front of his pants, his eyes locked with yours as he pushed them down his thighs, kicking them from his feet until the two of you were just standing before one another in your underwear; you in your panties and him in his boxers. You could feel your slick running through the thin and flimsy material of your underwear, and the wet patch forming on the tented front of Stuart’s boxers told you he was feeling the exact same way.

“You’re so beautiful.” His words could barely be heard, but you caught them, your heart swelling with pride and love as you nodded, taking his hand in yours and guiding the two of you down onto the sheets, crawling backwards up the bed as he followed above you, leaning you down until your head was buried in the pillows. His breath was fanning over your cheeks, hot and panted as the two of you watched one another, eyes locked in loving embrace.

Your hand slipped between you both, along your front and down to palm at the straining cock in his boxers, a low grunt leaving him as you did, your nails tracing the outline of his hard cock, even through the wet cotton. “Condom. Now. I need you.” You gestured to the bedside table on his side, and his jaw fell open, his eyes wide as he nodded quickly.

“Okay. Okay, I got it.” He pulled away, reaching over just far enough to grab one of the thin silver packets from the box within the drawer, the wood slamming shut soon after as he pulled back. Pulling away from your body, he dropped his boxers to the floor, foil packet held delicately between his teeth as he pumped himself slowly, moving back to kneel over you on the bed, precum leaving his red and taut skin shining as he toyed, finger pushing up underneath the head of his cock as he let out strangled sounds as he pleased himself.

Seconds later, he was tearing the packet open, rolling the rubber onto his cock and humming at the stimulation of the action, his hands finding the lace on either side of your body, your hips lifting up as he eased the material away, no longer hiding your soaked core from his views. With a hand on each knee, he parted your thighs, his body settling between them as he left wet kisses along your collarbones, moving down until he could wrap his lips around one stiff standing nipple, your back arching as a hand wove into his locks, holding his head to your chest.

Swirling his tongue around the taut bud, you whined out, hips rolling up onto his leg, a thigh clenched as you ground your dripping core onto his skin, a growl leaving him and he left wet and shiny trails on your skin as he dragged his tongue along your flesh to give the other mound the same attention. Your walls were clenching around nothing, flooding with arousal as your body thrummed with need.

He pushed two fingers through your folds, swirling them in the wetness that had gathered and pushing against your clit, and a shake ran over your body, your eyes closing and your head pushing back into the pillows, a loud cry of his name leaving your lips the second his lips wrapped around your clit. Sucking gently, he pushed a single skinny digit into you, your walls fluttering around his finger and sucking it into you deeper as the pad smoothed along your walls.

Pulling it out slowly, the nail scratched just enough to make your hips jump up, the pressure of his movements on the pulsing bud between your legs only getting quicker and rougher, his tongue joining the mix as he lapped at your core. A thin sheen of sweat covered your skin, his eyes watching as your face scrunched up in pleasure and your jaw hung open, calling his name out as he brought you waves of bliss, even just from the simple touch.

Setting a fast rhythm, he prodded a second finger at your entrance, soon allowing it to join the first, the tips of his fingers brushing your spot each time he plunged into you deeply, and he scissored his fingers, opening you up for him as your thighs trembled under his touch. Your own hands lifted up, palming at your tits and he slurped between his fingers, licking up every droplet of wet arousal you let out, drinking you in needily as wet sounds filled the room, filthy and pornographic as he moaned into your body.

The vibrations shot along your spine, and with a hand in his hair, you tugged, dragging his face back up to yours, his chin glistening with your juices as you looked at him, eyes wide and filled with lust glasses sitting askew on his face and you reached up, taking them from his face carefully and placing them on the set of drawers beside the bed. Yourhands held his face, thumbs running over his cheekbones softly as you pulled his mouth down to yours. The taste of you spread from his mouth to your own, and he groaned softly as you sucked on his lower lip, the tip of his cock prodding at your heat and he could feel the wet warmth coming from you, even through the rubber.

“I’m ready. Just fuck me, I need it. I need you.” He nodded, lips still puckered as you pulled away and he lifted one of your legs up to sit on his hip, his hand lining him up between you both and his eyes locked with yours as he sunk forward, filling you slowly, inch by inch until your hot walls were hugging around his cock tightly, your hips pressed together as he mumbled profanities and praises for only you to hear.

He gave you a moment to adjust, your walls stretching to accommodate his size and you let out a deep breath, rolling your hips up into him to give him the signal that you were ready, and he took it, moaning out your name as he pulled back slowly, feeling every dip and inch of your tight passage as he moved slowly. When he was almost all the way out of you, he snapped his hips back forward, your back arching up into his chest as he filled you up deeply once again.

Your nipples rubbed against his chest, the stimulation jolting through your body and you could feel every throb and vein of his member, your eyes fluttering shut as he held you close. One hand was sitting on your thigh as he set off in his thrusts, fingertips digging so tightly into your skin that there would be fingerprint bruises on your skin in the morning, the other holding him up above you as his movements picked up speed. “Harder, baby.”

“I got you.” His words were strained, and he gripped onto your body with more force, the hand beside your head tightening in the sheets, his thrusts hitting deep each time and he was pressing to your special spot, your vision flashing with colours as they rolled back, bliss coursing through your veins. He lifted your leg up higher, balancing it on his shoulder and a scream was torn from you at the new angle, and you only tightened around him.

“Fuck, sweetehart, you’re so tight for me.” His words were practically growled out, sweatlining his forehead as he rammed into you in touch thrusts, the bed slamming back into the wall each time he rocked his hips down, his shaft slipping in and out of you with some of the dirtiest sounds you had ever heard.

“Oh, God, I love it. I love you. Oh, fuck! Stuart!”

“That’s right, baby, scream my name.” He pulled out of you quickly, hands on your hips spinning you around until you were popped up on your knees, your face buried in the sheets, muffling the scream you let out as he slammed back into you in one swift movement. Your nails clawed at the bedding beneath you, your body jolting with every deep thrust he gave you and you felt the spring in your guts beginning to wind up tight, your eyes rolling back in your head as you pushed yourself up on shaky arms.

His hand laced in your hair, pulling your head back so that your sounds were free to echo around the room, clear and loud as you begged and pleaded for him, your back arching up closer to him, and you slammed your hips back to meet his as your thrusts were sloppy, the way he was moving making your head spin.

“Fuck, you gonna’ cum for me, sweetheart? Scream my name, tell everyone who’s making you feel this good? Tell everyone who loves you?” You nodded, gasping breathlessly for him and he leaned over you, his chest almost meeting your back as his movements became uncoordinated and sloppy.

Two of his fingers dipped into your mouth, your tongue swirling around them and soaking them with spit, and he moaned loudly in your ear at the feeling, your cheeks following around his fingers and you could still faintly taste your own essence on his skin, the thought only making you flood with wetness, soaking his cock and he slid easily in and out of you. Trailing the fingers along your skin, lines of saliva connected the tips of his fingers to your lips, until he moved them down to your clit, rubbing rapid circles onto the abused bead.

You threw your head back, letting out a near animalistic sound as your climax crashed over you like a rush. Wave after wave of pure bliss raced through your body, and he could barely move as you shook in his arms, and he held you tightly to his chest, fucking you through your climax as he reached the edge himself. He let out a deep growl into your ear as he came, teeth nibbling on your earlobe and kissing at your jaw as he rode you both through the high.

His skin slid against yours, sweaty and shining as he pulled back, your exhausted body collapsing down onto the sheets as you twitched and quivered, a dopey smile on your face as your eyes closed, a high and deep sigh leaving you as you squirmed in the sheets. Stepping back, he pulled the condom from his cock, his dick already softening as he tied it and discarded it to the bin in the corner, his muscles aching as he dropped down onto the mattress beside you.

You rolled over and lifted his arm as he chuckled tiredly at you, letting you tuck yourself under his arm and nuzzle your nose into his neck, your bodies curling up together to cuddle and he ran his fingers over your skin, tracing indiscernible patterns as you calmed your racing hearts.

“I missed cuddling with you last night. I’m glad you’re back.”

“We don’t cuddle?” You mumbled, yawning through your words and he hummed, nodding and pressing a series of kisses to the top of your head as he relaxed, his own eyes sliding closed as the two of you relaxed.

“No, you cuddled your pillow and we spooned a little.”

“When I woke up, we were curled up together. Guess my unconscious missed you too much to ignore.” He placed a hand over your face, scoffing and pushing you away from him as he teased you for your cheesy statement, and you merely giggled as a reply, squeezing your arms around him tighter as you pulled yourself back into his body, your front pressed up to his side.

“You’re sickeningly cheesy, I can’t stand it.”

“Says the one who booked a romantic trip to Rome.” You joked, and he rolled his eyes, a blush crawling up his cheek as you kissed lazily at the skin you could reach, before pulling back to tug at the sheets, trying to ease them out from under his body, and he shuffled lazily to allow you to, many groans and complaints being thrown in. However, when the covers were draped over his body, he snuggled down into them happily, your eyes rolling fondly as you looked at your half-sleeping boyfriend. “So, how did you get the time off work for both of us?”

“Oh, a lot of begging was done.” He joked, silence settling over the room, and he turned his head toward you, puckering his lips for a slow and deep kiss, which you happily granted you as the two of you adjusted yourselves under the covers. “I love you, and I promise I’ll be better.”

“You’re perfect as you are, Stuart. I love you too.” You muttered, a yawn covering your lips, and he nodded, squeezing you in a silent response. “It’s going to be a very happy birthday for me.”

“Yes. Yes it is.”

405 notes · View notes

mf-despair-queen · 7 years ago

Text

Fake Dates - Stuart Twombly

Author: @mf-despair-queen

Characters: Stuart Twombly/Reader

Word Count: 17,921

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s delicious though,” she hummed.

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

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

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

“Right,” she drew out skeptically.

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

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

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

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

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

“I regret that decision every day.”

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

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

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

“What about me?” Neha complained.

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

“Rude!”

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

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

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

Perks of best friendship.

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

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

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

“You have friends?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah.”

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

“You are my girl though.”

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

“Hey,” he sighed, almost offended.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“No!”

“I will lick you again.”

“Fine.”

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

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

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

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

“Fuck you.”

“That’s better,” you smiled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Memester: Like… was she good?]

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

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

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

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

[Memester: …]

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

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

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

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

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

“Can’t? Why not?”

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

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

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

“Stu?”

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

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

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

“I don’t know,” you sighed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Not a Disney Prince: Emphasis.]

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

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

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

“Go on a date with me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Stuart himself.

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

Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What happened?” you asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I don’t know guys…”

“Come on, Stuart,” the guys pleaded.

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

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

“Just one drink. Please?”

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

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

“One drink!” the guys cheered.

One drink didn’t happen.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can see perfectly!” Joe claimed.

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

“A nice, sloppy, juicy lucy!”

“That’s a sandwich,” you deadpanned.

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

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

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

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

You craved more.

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck off.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh.”

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

“Right…”

“Care to talk about it?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, right.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Isaac loves it.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Flirt with the bartender?”

“Yes!” he practically screamed.

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

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

“Stuart…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stu.”

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

“Stuart!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You knew there was no going back though.

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was never meant to happen.

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

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

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

“C-Can I help you, Stuart?”

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

“What?”

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

“What? No-”

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

“Just stop, please.”

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

“Oh,” you said shortly.

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

“Stuart-”

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

You frowned. Ouch, was I just friendzoned?

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

“Stuart.”

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

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

But your heads bumped together painfully.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It really was,” you giggled.

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

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

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

“P-proposal?!”

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

“Stu?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean?” you questioned.

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

“Now, date please?”

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

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

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

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

Just soft kisses in the moonlight to end the night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“D-Do we need a condom or anything?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’ve been ready.”

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

“Stuart.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, me, Stu,” you pleaded.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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architectnews · 3 years ago

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The Courtauld Institute of Art London Renewal

The Courtauld Modernisation Project London Building, Architecture Renewal Photos, Design News

The Courtauld Institute of Art London

30 September 2021

The Courtauld Gallery To Reopen To The Public

Renewal Design: Witherford Watson Mann Architects

On 19 November 2021 Following The Most Significant Modernisation Project In Its History

Tickets on sale now at www.courtauld.ac.uk/gallery

The Courtauld Gallery in London will open to the public on Friday 19 November 2021 following the most significant modernisation project in its history, providing a transformed home for one of the UK’s greatest art collections.

Visitors to the gallery in Somerset House, which has been closed since 2018, will be able to enjoy masterpieces from The Courtauld’s much-loved collection presented and interpreted across elegantly restored galleries, alongside a new contemporary commission, special displays, enhanced visitor facilities, and dynamic new spaces.

photo © Benedict Johnson Photography

Paintings from The Courtauld’s world-famous collection of Impressionist art by Monet, Degas, Cézanne, Van Gogh, Manet and others will be reunited in the spectacular LVMH Great Room, London’s oldest purpose-built exhibition space. The Blavatnik Fine Rooms, spanning the entire second floor, will provide a beautiful setting for works from the Renaissance to the 18th century. New rooms devoted to 20th century art and the Bloomsbury Group will showcase lesser-known aspects of the collection, and a new Project Space will spotlight temporary projects to connect the public with the institution’s work as a leading centre for the study of art history.

Tickets for The Courtauld Gallery are on sale now with a special introductory price of £9 (£11 weekends / concessions available) until the end of January 2022. Friends membership is available from just £5.50 a month, or £66 annually, and active members of the Friends and Patrons programmes can enjoy unlimited access to The Courtauld Gallery throughout the year.

The new Denise Coates Exhibition Galleries will be inaugurated with the exhibition: Modern Drawings: The Karshan Gift, which will run until January 2022 and feature work by European and American masters including Georg Baselitz, Joseph Beuys, Wassily Kandinsky, Paul Klee, Gerhard Richter, Louis Soutter and Cy Twombly. Also included in the ticket price will be Pen to Brush: British Drawings and Watercolours in the Gilbert and Ildiko Butler Drawings Gallery and Kurdistan in the 1940s in the new Project Space, showcasing the work of 20th century British photographer Anthony Kersting.

Tickets are also on sale for the Morgan Stanley Exhibition Van Gogh Self-Portraits (3 February – 8 May 2022), the first exhibition devoted to Van Gogh’s self-portraits across his entire career. The exhibition takes as its springboard Van Gogh’s Self-Portrait with Bandaged Ear, one of the most iconic works in The Courtauld’s collection, and will bring together an outstanding selection of over 15 self-portraits from collections around the world. The exhibition is the first in the new Morgan Stanley Series of high-profile temporary exhibitions at The Courtauld. Further exhibitions will be announced later in 2021. Van Gogh Self-Portraits is supported by Kenneth C. Griffin, with additional support from The Huo Family Foundation.

The Blavatnik Fine Rooms: photo © Hufton+Crow

Professor Deborah Swallow, Marit Rausing Director of The Courtauld, said: “We cannot wait to be able to welcome visitors back into The Courtauld Gallery after being closed for over three years. The transformation has been quite incredible, and the masterpieces in our collection now shine brighter than ever before. With improved visitor facilities, greater accessibility and a new Leon Kossoff Learning Centre we’re also looking forward to welcoming people who might not have visited The Courtauld before – as well as being once again able to use the Gallery to teach our wonderful art history, curation and conservation students.”

Sir Leonard Blavatnik said: “My wife and I are delighted to support the historic renovation of The Courtauld, including the Blavatnik Fine Rooms. We congratulate all those associated with the project, a unique addition to London and the world of the fine arts.”

Stuart McLeod , Director London & South at The National Lottery Heritage Fund, said:“We are thrilled that one of the UK’s greatest art collections will have a transformed new home in just two months’ time. Thanks to money raised by National Lottery players, a significant grant has enabled a series of transformative improvements in accessibility, as well as a new Learning Centre that will enable people of all ages to engage with the masterpieces on display. We look forward to The Courtauld Gallery reopening its doors very soon.”

When it reopens, The Courtauld’s digital offer will also be expanded, engaging new audiences and enhancing access to the collection through a partnership with Bloomberg Philanthropies to improve the Gallery’s digital infrastructure. The Courtauld will also launch a guide on the Bloomberg Connects app, a free digital guide to cultural organisations around the world featuring expert commentary, video highlights and way-finding maps which will extend access to The Courtauld Gallery for all. Bloomberg Connects makes it easy to access and engage with arts and culture from mobile devices, anytime, anywhere. The Bloomberg Connects app is free via Apple Store or Google Play.

The Courtauld Institute of Art London LVMH Great Room: photo © Hufton+Crow

The transformation of The Courtauld, led by Stirling Prize-winning architects Witherford Watson Mann, has been supported by £11 million from The National Lottery Heritage Fund and a generous donation of £10 million from philanthropists Sir Leonard and Lady Blavatnik, and the Blavatnik Family Foundation. Additional major support has been provided by AKO Foundation, the Deborah Loeb Brice Foundation, The John Browne Charitable Trust, Denise Coates CBE, Crankstart, The Garcia Family Foundation, The Garfield Weston Foundation, Dr Martin and Susanne Halusa, The Linbury Trust, LVMH Moët Hennessy – Louis Vuitton and Oak Foundation. The Courtauld is most grateful to these visionary supporters, alongside others who are making this project and its related activities possible. The collection cared for by The Courtauld Gallery belongs to the Samuel Courtauld Trust.

The Courtauld Gallery

Reopening Friday 19 November 2021

Monday – Sunday, 10am – 6pm (last entry 5.15pm)

Special introductory offer: £9 weekday / £11 weekends. Concessions available.

Free to students, under 18s, those in receipt of job seekers allowance, teachers, FE and HE lecturers

Full details: www.courtauld.ac.uk/gallery

Tickets are initially available online only. Walk up tickets will also be available once The Courtauld Gallery reopens on 19 November.

Van Gogh Self Portraits 3 February – 8 May 2022

£16 weekday / £18 weekend. Concessions available. Full details: www.courtauld.ac.uk/vg-self-portraits

Special introductory offer of £9 weekday / £11 weekends is for access to the Gallery, its permanent collection and all temporary exhibitions up to 2 February 2022. Additional charges apply to our Van Gogh Self Portraits exhibition from 3 February 2022.

THE COURTAULD Somerset House, Strand, London WC2R 0RN

SOCIAL MEDIA Instagram @Courtauld Twitter @TheCourtauld YouTube CourtauldInstitute Facebook @TheCourtauld #TheCourtauld #courtauldconnects

Previously on e-architect:

10 June 2021

The Courtauld Modernisation Project

The Courtauld Unveils Opening Programme

As Major Modernisation Project Reaches Completion Ahead Of November 2021 Opening

Masterpieces from the Middle Ages to the 20th Century presented in magnificently restored setting following three-year transformation project

The elegantly restored Blavatnik Fine Rooms will showcase some of the greatest and most-loved works from The Courtauld’s collection

World-famous Impressionist collection reunited in the LVMH Great Room – London’s oldest exhibition space

The Blavatnik Fine Rooms: photograph © Hufton+Crow

Major new contemporary commission by Cecily Brown

Oskar Kokoschka’s epic modern painting, The Myth of Prometheus, the largest work in The Courtauld’s collection, back on display in the Katja and Nicolai Tangen 20th Century Gallery

Opening exhibitions to feature remarkable gift of 24 modern drawings; rarely-seen images of Kurdistan in the 1940s; and important British drawings and watercolours

The Courtauld Gallery in London will open its doors in November 2021 following the most significant modernisation project in its history, providing a transformed home for one of the UK’s greatest art collections.

The Courtauld’s much-loved collection, which belongs to the Samuel Courtauld Trust and ranges from the Middle Ages to the 20th Century – will be completely redisplayed and reinterpreted. These enhanced spaces will allow The Courtauld to give visitors greater insight into its collections, teaching and research and enable inspiring encounters with its great works of art. In addition, two brand new galleries will provide a beautiful new home for The Courtauld’s acclaimed programme of temporary exhibitions.

Masterpieces from The Courtauld’s world-famous collection of Impressionist and Post-Impressionist art by Cézanne, Manet, Van Gogh, Gauguin, Renoir, and Monet will be reunited in the spectacularly restored LVMH Great Room – London’s oldest purpose-built exhibition space and the largest space in Somerset House.

The new displays will reveal the quality and range of the collection like never before. The Blavatnik Fine Rooms, spanning the Piano Nobile across the whole of the second floor, will provide the stunning setting for a series of new displays of works from the Renaissance to the 18th Century. A new space will be dedicated to The Courtauld’s important collection of Medieval and Early Renaissance paintings and decorative arts.

Rooms devoted to 20th Century art and the Bloomsbury Group will showcase lesser-known areas of the collection through rotating displays. A new Project Space on the second floor will provide a flexible platform for spotlighting smaller temporary projects that give visitors special insights into The Courtauld’s collection, conservation and research. Displays in this space will play an important role in better connecting the public with the institution’s work as an internationally-renowned centre for the study of art history and conservation.

The largest work in The Courtauld’s collection – Austrian Expressionist Oskar Kokoschka’s epic triptych The Myth of Prometheus (1950) – will be back on public display for the first time in over a decade in the Katja and Nicolai Tangen 20th Century Gallery.

A new large-scale painting by acclaimed artist Cecily Brown, specially commissioned for the curved wall of The Courtauld’s historic 18th Century staircase, will be unveiled when the Gallery reopens.

The Lord Browne of Madingley, Chairman of The Courtauld, said: “The opening of The Courtauld Gallery will be one of the biggest cultural highlights of 2021 and a significant first step in the transformation of The Courtauld. We are thrilled to be welcoming the public back to enjoy one of the country’s greatest art collections in a beautifully restored setting. This transformation would not have been possible without the generosity of our donors, to whom we are immensely grateful. The redevelopment allows us to showcase the range and richness of the collection as never before, and to enable a greater number of people to enjoy close personal encounters with some of the finest works of art from the Middle Ages to the 20th Century. This will be complemented by an exciting opening programme of exhibitions, which focus on new or little-known areas of The Courtauld’s collection.”

As well as the redisplayed permanent collection, The Courtauld Gallery will open with three temporary exhibitions included in the ticket price:

Modern Drawings: The Karshan Gift (Nov 21 – Jan 22) will showcase an outstanding group of modern drawings by European and American masters including Georg Baselitz, Joseph Beuys, Wassily Kandinsky, Paul Klee, Gerhard Richter, Louis Soutter and Cy Twombly, assembled by the late collector Howard Karshan and generously given to The Courtauld by his wife, the artist Linda Karshan.

Pen to Brush: British Drawings and Watercolours (Nov 21 – Jan 22) will show a wide range of works from The Courtauld’s remarkable collection of British drawings – from one of the earliest and smallest works in the collection, a pen and ink drawing by Isaac Oliver measuring 47 x 59 mm, to watercolours by J.M.W. Turner and John Constable, to modern works, including a shelter drawing by Henry Moore and the radical, near abstract Vorticist Composition with Figures by Helen Saunders.

Kurdistan in the 1940s (Nov 21 – May 22) will unearth some of the treasures of the Conway photographic Library including sites damaged or destroyed in recent conflict through the works of 20th Century British photographer Anthony Kersting, one of the most prolific and widely travelled architectural photographers of his generation.

Designed by Stirling Prize-winning architects Witherford Watson Mann, the redevelopment revitalises and opens up the building in Somerset House conceived by Sir William Chambers in the 1770s, restoring it to its former grandeur and creating state-of-the-art facilities. The project has been supported by £11 million from The National Lottery Heritage Fund and generous donations from foundations, individuals and other supporters.

COURTAULD REOPENING HIGHLIGHTS – FURTHER DETAILS:

Restored and expanded galleries showcasing treasures from the Medieval period and Early Renaissance to the 20thCentury, including the restored Blavatnik Fine Rooms

Thanks to the generous donation of £10 million from philanthropists Sir Leonard and Lady Blavatnik, and the Blavatnik Family Foundation, the elegantly restored Blavatnik Fine Rooms, a suite of six galleries spanning the entire second floor of the building, will showcase some of the greatest and most-loved works from The Courtauld’s collection from the Renaissance through to the 18th Century.

The redevelopment will enable The Courtauld to give a more generous account of this part of its collection across rooms dedicated to the Italian Renaissance, Northern Renaissance, 17th and 18th Century Europe. A major highlight will be Botticelli’s large-scale The Trinity With Saints – the only altarpiece by the artist in the UK – unveiled after a three-year conservation project. A room dedicated to The Courtauld’s celebrated collection of works by Peter Paul Rubens will also be a significant feature of the displays. New lighting and other improvements throughout these historic spaces will transform the experience of the collection.

LVMH Great Room: photo © Hufton+Crow

A new gallery has been created on the first floor to present The Courtauld’s important collection of paintings and decorative arts from the Medieval and Early Renaissance periods, including fine examples of Islamic metalwork, alongside works from Italy and Northern Europe

For the first time, The Courtauld’s significant collection of works by the Bloomsbury Group will be given a dedicated space in the Gallery, showcasing the group’s radical designs for furniture, ceramics and textiles alongside paintings and drawings by important Bloomsbury artists, including Vanessa Bell and Duncan Grant.

A spectacular new home for the UK’s greatest collection of Impressionist art

Masterpieces from The Courtauld’s world-renowned collection of Impressionist and Post-Impressionist paintings, including Manet’s A Bar at the Folies-Bergère (1882), Van Gogh’s Self-Portrait with Bandaged Ear (1889), and the most significant collection of works by Cézanne in the UK, will be shown together when The Courtauld Gallery reopens in the spectacularly restored LVMH Great Room – London’s oldest purpose-built exhibition space.

Previously subdivided, the newly renamed LVMH Great Room has been reinstated to its original breath-taking proportions and volume. It will provide an unforgettable new home for The Courtauld’s Impressionist and Post-Impressionist treasures, which will be rehung and newly interpreted. It will include masterpieces by Manet, Monet, Renoir, Degas, Seurat, Van Gogh, Gauguin and Modigliani.

Among the works on display will be Renoir’s Spring, Chatou (1873), a rarely seen Impressionist masterpiece once belonging to Samuel Courtauld and now on loan to the Gallery. Also on display will be one of the most important artist manuscripts ever to enter a UK public collection, Gauguin’s Avant et après (Before and After), a 213-page illustrated memoir featuring numerous drawings and prints revealing important insights into Gauguin’s life and work. It was acquired for The Courtauld through the UK Government’s Acceptance in Lieu Scheme in 2020 and goes on public display for the first time.

The Courtauld would like to acknowledge the generosity of LVMH Moët Hennessy – Louis Vuitton who have enabled the transformation of the historic LVMH Great Room.

Jean-Paul Claverie, Advisor to the Chairman, LMVH/Moët Hennessy – Louis Vuitton and Head of LVMH Philanthropy, said : “LVMH is delighted and proud to have supported the renovation of the magnificent Great Room in London, which has played such an important historical role in the arts. The LVMH Great Room has been reunited with its glorious past, providing an inspiring and uplifting space where visitors can enjoy The Courtauld’s unparalleled collection of French Impressionist and Post-Impressionist masterpieces. We hope that it will delight visitors from around the world.”

The Courtauld Institute of Art London Medieval Gallery photo © Hufton+Crow

The largest work in The Courtauld’s collection on show for the first time in over a decade

An epic modern painting by the great Austrian Expressionist Oskar Kokoschka consisting of three canvases measuring over eight metres long, and considered to be one of the artist’s most important works, will be displayed at The Courtauld for the first time in over a decade in the Katja and Nicolai Tangen 20th Century Gallery.

The Myth of Prometheus (1950) was commissioned in 1950 by Count Antoine Seilern, one of The Courtauld’s most important benefactors, for the ceiling of his London home. Seilern bequeathed the triptych to The Courtauld, together with his remarkable collection of Old Master paintings and drawings. Kokoschka painted the work in London in 1950, at a time when the world was poised between the Second World War and the beginning of the Cold War, retelling stories from classical myth and the Bible to evoke dramatic scenes of apocalypse and the hope of regeneration during troubled times.

The painting will be exhibited alongside a selection of photographs documenting Kokoschka working on The Myth of Prometheus in Seilern’s home, taken by the acclaimed 20th Century photographer Lee Miller.

The Courtauld would like to thank the AKO Foundation, whose generous donation has supported the creation of the Katja and Nicolai Tangen 20th Century Gallery.

Remarkable gift of 24 modern drawings including works by Kandinsky, Klee, Baselitz and Richter exhibited together for the first time

An outstanding group of modern drawings by European and American masters including Georg Baselitz, Joseph Beuys, Wassily Kandinsky, Paul Klee, Gerhard Richter, Louis Soutter and Cy Twombly, assembled by the late collector Howard Karshan and generously gifted to The Courtauld by his wife Linda, will go on public display together for the first time when The Courtauld Gallery reopens.

The group of 24 works on paper will be unveiled in the new exhibition galleries on the top floor, formed by the removal of former attic apartments to enable The Courtauld to develop its celebrated programme of international loan exhibitions. One of the most significant gifts of art to The Courtauld in a generation, the Karshan gift will transform the collection by extending its major historical holdings fully into the twentieth century. Aside from Cézanne, none of the artists included in the gift has previously been represented in the collection.

The location of the new Cecily Brown commission, at the top of the third-floor staircase: photo © Hufton+Crow

Major new commission by Cecily Brown for The Courtauld’s historic staircase

A new large-scale painting by the renowned contemporary artist Cecily Brown will be unveiled as part of the reopening displays. The work has been specially commissioned for the curved wall at the top of The Courtauld’s historical staircase and will reflect Cecily Brown’s deep interest in the paintings in the Gallery’s collection. The commission revisits the early history of the building. In the eighteenth century, a painting by Giovanni Battista Cipriani occupied this same location when this part of Somerset House was home to the Royal Academy of Arts.

The commission has been supported by The Garcia Family Foundation.

British drawings celebrated in dedicated Drawings Gallery

Pen to Brush, the opening display in the dedicated Gilbert and Ildiko Butler Drawings Gallery, will feature highlights from The Courtauld’s remarkable collection of British drawings and watercolours. They range from one of the earliest and smallest works in the collection, a pen and ink drawing by Isaac Oliver measuring just 47 x 59 mm (around 1565-1617), to Henry Moore’s powerful wartime Shelter Drawing (1942). Works from the ‘golden age’ of British watercolour include examples by J.M.W. Turner, John Constable and Edward Dayes’ panoramic view of Somerset House from the Thames. A highlight will be a little-known abstract drawing, Vorticist Composition with Figures, Black and White (1915), by Helen Saunders, one of only two female members of the early 20th-century avant-garde Vorticist group.

Rarely seen images of Kurdistan in the 1940s by Britain’s leading architectural photographer Anthony Kersting

20th Century British photographer Anthony Kersting, the most prolific and widely travelled architectural photographer of his generation, will be the subject of the inaugural display in the new Project Space when The Courtauld Gallery reopens. Born in South London in 1916, Kersting documented his extensive travels across the Middle East throughout the 1940s and 50s. His archive of over 42,000 photographic prints and negatives were given to the Conway Library at The Courtauld upon his death in 2008.

20 compelling photographs from the collection documenting the life of the Yazidi community in Kurdistan, taken by Kersting on a trip in 1944, will go on display when The Courtauld Gallery reopens. The exhibition also includes portraits and city photography of Erbil, often considered the oldest continually inhabited place on earth, and the Mosque at Nebi Yunus, the burial place of Jonah destroyed by Isis in 2014. The display will be the first to be presented in the Gallery’s new Project Space, a new room to spotlight smaller temporary projects that give visitors insight into The Courtauld’s broader teaching, conservation and research expertise.

The 1.1million photographs in the Conway Library – most of which have never been seen by the public – are currently undergoing a major volunteer-led digitisation project – supported by the National Lottery Heritage Fund – which will put these images, including Kersting’s, into the public domain.

Increasing the accessibility of the collection

The project has worked closely with the historic building to introduce improvements such as step-free access to the entrance, changes in display cabinet height, and standardising floor levels between rooms – making The Courtauld Gallery more accessible than ever before. A highlight will be the spacious, newly created visitor welcome areas, which provide greatly improved facilities and include The John Browne Entrance Hall, which has been generously supported by the John Browne Charitable Trust.

In addition, the collection’s interpretation has been completely revisited, drawing on The Courtauld’s expertise in art history education and research, as well as exploring the history of the fascinating rooms in which the collection is based. Supported by Bloomberg Philanthropies, the Gallery’s digital programme will also be expanded, engaging new audiences and enhancing access to our collections.

Professor Deborah Swallow, Märit Rausing Director of The Courtauld, said: “The Courtauld was founded in 1932 on the belief that everyone should have the opportunity to engage with art. This major redevelopment has provided a unique opportunity to look at the collection afresh, and it provides new narratives and new ways of enjoying our works.

Fresh design and interpretation throughout the gallery will open up The Courtauld as never before, enabling more people than ever to discover and enjoy our outstanding collection – furthering The Courtauld’s mission to advance how we see and understand the visual arts. Object Study Rooms and the Project Space will also provide a unique environment for The Courtauld’s teaching and research work. We look forward to welcoming people back to The Courtauld Gallery from November 2021.”

The Courtauld will launch a guide on the Bloomberg Connects app, a free digital guide to cultural organisations around the world. Bloomberg Connects makes it easy to access and engage with arts and culture from mobile devices, anytime, anywhere. Features include expert commentary, video highlights, pinch-and-zoom capability and exhibition and way-finding maps which will extend access to The Courtauld Gallery for all upon reopening. The Bloomberg Connects is free via Apple Store or Google Play.

Additional major support has been provided by the Deborah Loeb Brice Foundation, Crankstart, The Garcia Family Foundation, The Garfield Weston Foundation, Dr Martin and Susanne Halusa, The Linbury Trust and Oak Foundation. The Courtauld is most grateful to these visionary supporters, alongside others who are making this project and its related activities possible. The Courtauld would also like to thank McQueens Flowers for their support of Sculpture and Decorative Arts at The Courtauld.

Somerset House courtyard: photograph © Nick Weall

THE COURTAULD Address: Somerset House, Strand, London WC2R 0RN Website: www.courtauld.ac.uk

SOCIAL MEDIA Instagram @Courtauld Twitter @TheCourtauld YouTube CourtauldInstitute Facebook @TheCourtauld #TheCourtauld #courtauldconnects

The Courtauld Institute of Art in London

The Courtauld

The Courtauld works to advance how we see and understand the visual arts, as an internationally-renowned centre for the teaching, research of art history and a major public gallery. Founded by collectors and philanthropists in 1932, the organisation has been at the forefront of the study of art ever since, through advanced research and conservation practice, innovative teaching and research, the renowned collection and inspiring exhibitions of its gallery, and engaging and accessible activities, education and events.

The Courtauld cares for one of the greatest art collections in the UK, sharing these works with the public at The Courtauld Gallery in central London. The Gallery is most famous for its iconic Impressionist and Post-Impressionist masterpieces, such as Van Gogh’s Self-Portrait with Bandaged Ear and Manet’s A Bar at the Folies-Bergère. It also showcases these alongside an internationally renowned collection of works from the Renaissance through to the present day.

Academically, The Courtauld faculty is the largest community of art historians and conservators in the UK, teaching and carrying out research on subjects from creativity in late Antiquity to contemporary digital artforms – with an increasingly global focus. An independent college of the University of London, The Courtauld offers a range of degree programmes from BA to PhD in the History of Art, curating and the conservation of easel and wall paintings. Its alumni are leaders and innovators in the arts, culture and business worlds, helping to shape the global agenda for the arts and creative industries.

Founded on the belief that everyone should have the opportunity to engage with art, The Courtauld works to increase understanding of the role played by art throughout history, in all societies and across all geographies – as well as being a champion for the importance of art in the present day. This could be through exhibitions offering a chance to look closely at world-famous works; events bringing art history research to new audiences; accessible and expert short courses; innovative school, family and community programmes; or taking a formal qualification. Our ambition is to transform access to art history education, by extending the horizons of what this is, and ensuring as many people as possible can benefit.

The Courtauld’s home in historic Somerset House – London’s working arts centre – is currently closed for a major programme of renovation. Our students and academic staff are based near King’s Cross.

The Courtauld is a registered charity and relies on generous philanthropic support to achieve its mission of advancing the understanding of the visual arts of the past and present across the world, through advanced research, innovative teaching, inspiring exhibitions, programmes and collections. The collection cared for by the Courtauld Gallery is owned by the Samuel Courtauld Trust, which has been a partner in the Courtauld Connects project

Somerset House London

Somerset House London courtyard: photo © Nick Weall

About The National Lottery Heritage Fund

Using money raised by the National Lottery, we Inspire, lead and resource the UK’s heritage to create positive and lasting change for people and communities, now and in the future. www.heritagefund.org.uk

Follow @HeritageFundUK on Twitter, Facebook and Instagram and use #NationalLotteryHeritageFund

About LVMH

The LVMH Group is the world leader in luxury. LVMH comprises 75 exceptional Houses that create high quality products. It is the only group present in all five major sectors of the luxury market: Wines & Spirits, Fashion & Leather Goods, Perfumes & Cosmetics, Watches a Jewelry and Selective Retailing. The Group is also widely recognized for its philanthropy in support of the arts, education and humanitarian initiatives. Since 2014, the Louis Vuitton Foundation in Paris has been pursuing its own groundbreaking artistic program.

About The John Browne Charitable Trust

The John Browne Charitable Trust was established 20 years ago by John Browne, Lord Browne of Madingley, to support causes associated with his life as an engineer, businessman, patron of the arts, and son of a Holocaust survivor. It is an established supporter of major educational and cultural causes, including Tate, the Turner Prize, Paintings in Hospitals and the British Museum. Lord Browne is Chairman of the Courtauld Institute of Art and a former Chairman of Tate. jbct.org.uk

About Bloomberg Philanthropies

Bloomberg Philanthropies invests in 810 cities and 170 countries around the world to ensure better, longer lives for the greatest number of people. The organization focuses on five key areas for creating lasting change: the Arts, Education, Environment, Government Innovation, and Public Health. Bloomberg Philanthropies encompasses all of Michael R. Bloomberg’s giving, including his foundation, corporate, and personal philanthropy as well as Bloomberg Associates, a pro bono consultancy that works in cities around the world. In 2020, Bloomberg Philanthropies distributed $1.6 billion. For more information, please visit bloomberg.org or follow us on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, Twitter, and TikTok.

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bxcketbarnes · 7 years ago

Text

Injury on the Quidditch Field

Pairing: Stuart Twombly x Reader

Author: @ninja-stiles

Words: 3738

Author’s Note: I wanted to write Stuart for Stuart Week that @rememberstilinski and @sarcasticallystilinski had extended and who doesn’t love Stuart? Come on. But, thanks to my amazing best fren @mf-despair-queen for proofreading this for me!

It’s crazy how hard you have to work to be able to achieve your dreams, and then there’s this internship. Working towards this internship is like the hunger games. You fight to the death, but no one’s actually dying. Obviously. Even though I went to highly well known college, it seemed that no one actually wanted me on their team. I even had a guy demand my presence on his team based on my looks, which I was not okay with. So, now I’m in the group with the leftovers, which included Neha, Yo-Yo, Billy, Nick, Stuart, and Lyle, who was the leader of the group. They all seemed really nice except for Stuart. He seemed to have a snarky attitude, which I was immediately attracted to. Why? I don’t know exactly, but it didn’t help that he was absolutely gorgeous. He’s got dark chestnut hair that’s poking out of his navy blue beanie, black rimmed glasses with gorgeous whiskey colored orbs, moles that danced across his left cheek, trailing down onto his neck, and his lips; boy, his lips look so soft and so pink. Surprisingly, Stuart and I had gotten pretty close after I took the chance to talk to him one day.

He was sitting in the cafe area, his eyes glued to that phone of his as he sipped his coffee. I managed to grow a pair and sit across from him after I had gotten my hot chocolate. When I sat down in front of him, he didn’t even acknowledge my existence, playing with the lid of my cup as I looked over his features, biting my lip slightly.

“Why are you staring at me?” He bluntly asked, glancing up at me for a second before turning his attention back at the device in his hands.

“I’m just trying to figure you out, Twombly,” I muttered, narrowing my eyes at him as he looked surprised, raising his eyebrows.

“Why would you want to figure me out? I’m nothing special.” Stuart leaned forward, putting his phone on the table, getting his attention.

“Well, I don’t know that. You could be the most interesting person in the world for all I know, and you hide behind your phone. How am I supposed to be friends with you if you don’t utter a word outside of work?” I questioned, taking a sip of my hot chocolate and his beautiful lips parted, assuming he’s not used to someone being so straightforward with him.

“You are certainly something else, Y/N.” He smiled, shoving his phone in his pocket as he stood up about to leave when he looked back at me. “Well, are you comin’ or what?” He asked and I grinned, nodding my head, following him outside, sitting underneath a tree, talking about everything and anything.

One night, Neha and I were talking in my room, gossiping about what’s happening with other teams that are competing, bashing a few of them, Graham especially. Graham was the guy who wanted me on his team because I was pretty, which I ended up stomping on his foot before walking away from him before I did something I regretted. My phone buzzed on the coffee table, checking it, seeing it was from Stuart and a smile formed on my lips, opening it.

Hey, Y/N. We’re getting coffee/hot chocolate before the Quidditch pitch, right?

Ever since that day I first talked to him, we would go out for coffee, while I got hot chocolate every morning before our meetings. I looked forward to it every night before I went to bed and I’ve hung out with him so much that I managed to catch feels. Yup. I have the biggest school girl crush on Stuart. Hopefully I don’t make it obvious enough where the whole group knows, cause it’d be so embarrassing, especially if he didn’t feel the same way. Personally, I don’t think he feels the same way I do. Why would he want a average girl like me when he could have a gorgeous girl on his arm, like Neha for example.

“Who is it?” Neha asked, smirking as I shook my head, texting Stuart back.

Of course. Wouldn’t miss it for the world, Stu. :)

“What? Oh, nothing, it’s no one,” I muttered, taking my bottom lip between my teeth, trying to stop the smile as Stuart had quickly replied.

Good. I’ve barely seen you this weekend since I was at my parents. I miss you.

I blushed, my heart racing as I re-read the text message before my phone was roughly taken from my hand and into Neha’s. I try to get it back, but she pushed my hands away as she squeals, handing it back to me.

“Oh my god. You guys are so cute. Do you like him?” She asked, clapping her hands as i avoided eye contact, nodding my head.

“Yeah, but there’s no way that he feels the same way though.” I sighed, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear. “I mean, I’m not even that pretty.” I frowned, noticing that Stuart sent me a picture of him, his smile contagious. He’s so cute.

“I don’t know about that, Y/N. Stuart doesn’t really talk to anyone else the way he does you. You’re also super pretty, gorgeous even. You have to have faith, sweetie.” She smiled softly, patting my arm. “It’s getting late, I better go and you have to be up early for coffee with Stuart.” She smirked, winking and I chuckled, bidding her goodnight as she leaves my room.

I let out a sigh, re-reading that same text, a million thoughts running through my head. Does he like me? Or is he just being friendly? I take a cute snapchat photo, sending it to him as I wait for his response, seeing the three dots, indicating that he’s replying.

Wow. You look more beautiful than the last time I saw you.

I smiled, my cheeks heating up as I hide my face in my hands. My phone vibrated as I was fangirling, quickly picking it up, reading it.

I can’t wait to see you tomorrow. Like seriously, I’m having hug withdrawals.

I chuckled, smiling like an idiot as my thumbs hover over the keyboard, wondering if I should attempt to flirt. Fuck it.

Well, you can come over right now? I mean, I’m not doing anything and you wouldn’t have to wait to get one of my hugs. ;)

I twirled my hair on my finger, biting my lip as the dots showed up on the screen, tapping my fingers against my knee as his response showed up.

I’m on my way.

I let out a scream, jumping up and down excitedly, running over to my closet, trying to find something cute, but comfortable to wear. I browsed past one of the my silk slips that I had gotten a long time ago. It’s lavender and around the breast area is lacey. I bite my lip, taking it into consideration, wondering if I’m taking things too far. Once again, fuck it. I undressed, slipping the gown on, looking myself over in the mirror, hoping that Stuart will like it. His favorite color as well.

A quiet knock on my door snapped me out of my thoughts, rubbing my hands together, getting a little nervous. I opened the door, Stuart standing on the other side, his hands tucked away in his pockets. His eyes widening as his eyes roamed down my figure, swallowing visibly. I let him into the room, closing the door behind him and he wraps his arms around my waist. I smiled, wrapping my arms around his neck, standing on my tippy toes as I hide my face in his neck, taking in his scent.

“H-Hi.” Stuart stuttered, clearing his throat as he takes a seat on my bed, avoiding eye contact. I chuckled, shaking my head as I sat next to him, our legs brushing together.

“Stuart, are you getting flustered?” I teased, laying my head against his shoulder. He scoffed, muttering a no. I looked up at him as he looked to the floor, fumbling his fingers together. “Then how come you can't look at me?” I asked, sitting up straight and he faces me. I could tell he's trying not to look and I praise him for being a gentlemen.

“I-You just look… incredible.” He whispered, almost not hearing him and I smiled, a blush rising on my cheeks. “U-Uhm, you wouldn't mind if I stayed here tonight, would you?” He asked, his eyes connecting with mine and I shook my head, laying on the bed, patting the empty space next to me.

“Not at all, Stu.” He groaned at the nickname, shrugging his shirt off, taking a long glance at his body. My lord. He was perfectly chiseled, even if he didn't have prominent abs. He also had a happy trail that disappears into his jeans. He unbuttoned his jeans, pulling them off his legs as he crawled into my bed, facing me while laying on his side. “Are you excited for Quidditch tomorrow?” I questioned, laying my head on my hands, his hands slowly moving towards my waist.

“I guess. I’m not really excited that we’re going against Graham. He’s a total douchebag,” Stuart mumbled, wrapping his arm around my waist, pulling me closer to him. I chuckled, nuzzling my head into his neck, resting my eyes as he lets out a content sigh.

“Agreed, but I do think he’s jealous of you,” I mumbled into his neck and Stuart pulls away, looking down at me with his eyes wide, surprised.

“Really? Why would he be jealous of me?” He questioned, furrowing his eyebrows together and I play with his hair.

“Because you’re always with me.” I smiled, running my fingers through his soft hair. “I think he thinks that we’re together. He couldn’t make it anymore clear that he has this thing for me.” A smile perked up on his lips, rubbing his hand up and down my side.

“Well, he can’t have you,” He whispered, his forehead leaning against mine, my eyes fluttering shut. His hands slowly move towards my hand, our fingers grazing against each others, intertwining our fingers. “Is it crazy for me to say that I have a huge crush on you?” He asked, rubbing his thumb against my knuckles as my heart beats faster against my chest, sitting up straight, staring down at him, hoping this isn’t a dream.

“I-It’s not crazy at all, because I have a huge crush on you as well,” I mumbled, looking into his eyes as he smiled, sitting up as well, rubbing his thumb against my cheek. “Is this a dream?” I questioned, going to pinch myself when he stopped me. I looked back up at him, our faces inches from each other as his eyes glance down towards my lips.

“You tell me if you’re dreaming or not,” He whispered, leaning his face closer to mine, our lips brushing together as my breath hitches. Our lips connected, sparks flowing through my body as I bring my hand up to his chest, moving it around his neck. I move my lips against his, letting out a happy sigh as his hands rest against my waist. I pull away, his lips laid against my forehead, pressing small kisses to the skin. “That… was even better than I imagined.”

“God, Stuart. Your lips are so fucking soft,” I whispered, my hands resting against his cheeks, feeling the vibrations of his chuckling. He ran his fingers through my hair, laying my head against his chest as he laid us down on the bed. He softly grazed his fingers up and down my back, my eyes drooping shut as his soft touch lulled me to sleep.

The alarm on my phone ranged through the room, waking me up instantly, sitting up as I looked around my room. I stop the alarm, looking down, seeing Stuart sleeping soundly, his face buried in my pillow as soft snores escaped from his parted lips. I moved some of his hair out of his face, kissing his forehead before getting out of bed. I opened my dresser, pulling out a pair of orange shorts, a black sports bra and a black tank top. I pulled off my gown, throwing into into the laundry basket before slipping on my sports bra.

“Well, that’s certainly a view to wake up to,” A deep, husky voice called out, making me jump. I turned around, seeing Stuart looking at me, leaning his head on his hand as a smirk is present on his lips.

“Too bad I’m covering it up.” I chuckled, putting on my tank top and shorts, sticking my tongue out at him. He groaned, sitting up, rubbing the tiredness out of his eyes as he stood up. He walked over to me, meshing our lips together and I let out a muffled noise, my eyes widening as how brash Stuart is being. We pulled away when there was a knock on the door, both of our eyes looking towards it.

I walked towards the door as Stuart began to put his clothes from last night on. Opening the door, I find Neha on the other side of it, a bright smile on her lips as she tried to get into the room, but I blocked the door. Her eyebrows furrowed together, a little confused. “I can’t come in?” She asked, becoming suspicious as I tried to block her view. She pushed her way in, gasping as she found Stuart standing in the room without a shirt on as he gave her a small wave. “What’s this?” She questioned, raising her eyebrows, looking between Stuart and I.

“Stuart and I were going to get coffee, remember?” I lied, looking back at him, an unreadable expression on his face as he put his shirt on. He scoffed, walking past us, leaving my room and my heart breaks a little. “Stuart, wait!” I called after him and he turned around, glaring at me. “Where are you going?” I asked, playing with my fingers.

“Away from here. I didn’t think you’d keep what happened between us a secret.” He glared a bit, crossing his arms as my lips parted in surprise.

“I don’t even know what we are yet, maybe I’d want to figure that out first before telling our friends.” I let out a sigh, shaking my head. “I’m sorry that I lied to her, but I-I don’t want to lose you over that. You are far to special too me. I’ll go back there right now and tell her we made out and told each other that we have huge crushes on each other.”

Stuart shook his head, taking my hand in his as he brought me into a hug, wrapping my arms around his waist, nuzzling my head into his chest. “No, it’s okay. I see where you were coming from. I’m sorry. I’m such an idiot.” He sighed, petting my hair, noticing Neha leave the room, smiling widely as us.

“You’re not an idiot, Stuart.” I smiled, softly kissing his cheek. “Now, go put on something else that’ll be practical for quidditch and I’ll meet you at the cafe, alright?” I looked up at him and he nodded his head. I turned around, seeing Neha have a giant smirk on her lips and I groan internally, rolling my eyes as I walk back into my room, putting my sneakers on.

“So, what really happened?” She asked and I let out a sigh, clasping my hands together. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of last night, a small blush on my cheeks.

“I asked him last night if he wanted to come over because he said that he missed my hugs. He obviously ended up coming over and we hugged, talked, made out. No big deal.” I tried to brush it off with a shrug and Neha screamed, jumping up and down with excitement, like I had done the previous night.

“No big DEAL? You guys made out! My OTP!” She chanted, making me giggle as she finally calms down. “Alright, we really need to go, but I want details on the way.” She ushered, pushing me out the door as we walk towards the field where the game is held.

“Oh shit. Neha, I have to meet Stuart at the cafe. I gotta go,” I yell as I ran off, hearing her yell that I needed to give her the details later. I skidded to a stop, noticing Stuart sitting at our usual table with his coffee and my hot chocolate, his phone in his hand. “Stuart,” I panted, catching my breath as he glanced up at me, putting his phone away as he smiled. “I’m so sorry. Neha fucking distracted me by making me tell her what happened last night and as much as I’d love to skip this game, we have to go. Let me make it up to you tonight?” I asked and he chuckled, nodding his head as he gave me my cup and I take a sip, immediately feeling like I’m in heaven.

“It’s alright, babe.” Stuart smiled, pressing his lips to the side of my head as we made our way to the game. “But, I totally wouldn’t mind you making it up to me.” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows and I smacked his chest, laughing, hiding the blush that has made it’s way to my cheeks.

“God, Stu! Not like that. Someday though.” I giggle, wrapping an arm around his waist, wanting to feel his warmth radiate off his body before we have to go back to just “friends.”

Once we were introduced, we ran out onto the field, broom sticks and all. Both teams crouched down as the ref asked us if we were ready, which Lyle replied, “Bangarang,” to. Strange one he is. We began the match, Graham’s team grabbing the ball first, scoring a point immediately. I groaned, trying to stop some of his players from getting the ball, but end up getting knocked to the ground instead. I managed to get the ball, throwing it towards Stuart, which bounces off his head, into the other team's hands and I let out a sigh.

“What the fuck,” Stuart mumbled, looking towards me and I shake my head, running off. I thought he was over with being on his phone all the time. I glanced back at him as he hung his head down, slapping a palm to his forehead as he put his phone away, joining the game again. I smiled, knowing I had some sort of effect on him and I absolutely loved it. As I was running towards the girl who had the ball, someone had stuck their foot in front of mine, making me trip over it. I tumbled to the ground, twisting my ankle and I let out a painful scream, not being able to move. I looked at the figure that was standing over me. Graham. That dick. He smirked before walking away as my team ran towards me, Stuart sliding to the ground, hovering over me.

“Oh my god, Y/N. Are you alright?” He asked and I glared at him.

“Oh yes, Stuart. I’m fucking peachy.” I muttered, wincing as a medic had moved my ankle. Stuart grabbed my hand and I squeeze the life out of it as the medic was doing basic tests to find out the damage I’d done to my ankle. “Sorry.” I whispered, looking up at him as he shook his head, rubbing the back of my hand with his thumb.

“Ma’am. We’re going to have to bring you to the hospital.” I groaned in response and my whole team chuckled, knowing that I hate hospitals. “You’re allowed one guest in the ambulance, so who would you want to bring with you?” He asked and my eyes immediately landed on Stuart. The medic must’ve noticed because they started to put me on the stretcher, rolling me off the field as Stuart followed, his hand never leaving mine.

Turns out I had fractured my ankle and now I have to be on crutches for the next four weeks. The only good thing about this is that Stuart had volunteered to take care of me, which means he’d have to stay in my room with me and honestly, I would not mind… one bit. Stuart opened my door for me as I crutched my way into the room, landing on my bed with a bounce, letting out a sigh as I prop the crutches against the wall.

“Well, this absolutely sucks,” I muttered, staring at the small boot that’s engorging my foot. He kneeled down in front of me, taking my hand in his as my gaze turns away from it, looking into Stuart’s eyes.

“It may suck, but I’m here and we both know that you’re a lot happier when I’m here.” He smiled and I blushed, looking down at my lap, trying to hide it when he tilted my head back up with his finger. “You look absolutely adorable when you blush.” He muttered, rubbing his thumb against my reddened cheek as it turns a little darker, biting my lip softly.

“You sure are something else, Stu.” I whispered, never taking my eyes off him as he grinned, leaning up, pressing a kiss to my forehead, my eyes fluttering shut. I love the feeling of his lips against my skin.

“I’ll tell you what, babe.” He paused, sitting beside me on the bed. “Once you recover, I’ll take you out anywhere you want.” He smiled and I laid my head on his shoulder.

“Anywhere huh? A-As a date?” I asked, playing with his lanky fingers, glancing up at him as he nods.

“Of course. I’ve been wanting to ask you out on a date for a while, so...” He blushed and I leaned up, pressing my lips to his cheek, resting my head in the nape of his neck, the painkillers making me a little sleepy. As my eyes droop shut, I can feel Stuart lay me on the bed, crawling in next to me, letting me lay my head against his chest. “I’m so in love with you.” He muttered, rubbing my back as I fall asleep with a smile on my lips.

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just-jordie-things · 8 years ago

Text

Oceans - Stuart Twombly

inspired by the song Oceans by Seafret word count: 4614

The scene was picture perfect. Bright smiles, twinkling eyes, the fairy lights hung around the outside of the cafe illuminating the dark night. Every time I looked at the picture, I could feel my heart beating in my chest. My friends, all sitting around this horrible metal table. Arms loosely wrapped around each other, cheeks pressed together, peace signs, a typical picture of a bunch of goony young adults.

The rose gold frame sat on my desk, catching my eye every time I typed away on my laptop, or watched Netflix, or worked on a new project Google handed to me. I’d look at it for a few moments, it was never just a glance. It probably took a good chunk of my day actually. I’d stare at it, eyes flickering to every little detail. The whiteness of Neha’s teeth, Lyle’s glasses slipping slightly down the bridge of his nose, one of Billy’s eyes was half closed, my hair was messy, spilling over my shoulders from under Stuart’s beanie. My gaze would linger there, and if I was feeling peculiarly nostalgic or depressed, I’d gently caress the glass protecting the photo with my fingers, then go back to my work like nothing had happened. Oh the vicious cycle of depression.

Today was the day where I got up early, ready for whatever my job would bring me. Some days were harder than others, but never usually too difficult. Though every night I walked back into my apartment with heavy feet. But that had nothing to do with the difficulty of work. No that was just plain anxiety and stress.

See, it used to be incredible. Working on the greatest team of delinquents, that had quickly become my closest friends. Winning the intern competition last year was probably one of the greatest moments in my life, that I’d remember forever. Us dorks felt like we were on top of the world. We’d even gone out for celebratory pizza afterwards. That’s when things started happening. That’s when I grew closer to Stuart Twombly.

The irritating and sarcastic boy that couldn’t handle being away from his phone, had seemed to transform into a completely new person in a matter of forty five minutes. I hadn’t spoken much with him, in fact we’d never even been alone together or held a solid conversation without the rest of the team being there. So when he’d sat in the same booth with me, I was slightly confused. Neha had quickly slid in across from me, which I silently thanked her for, seeing she was the closest person I had on the team. Lyle was on the other side of Stuart, fitting three of us into one booth (which left absolutely no space between our legs) and Billy and Nick and Yo-Yo were squashed in with Neha.

The night was fun though, we’d ordered many pizzas, and stayed until closing. We joked around, made fun of Gharam, and his relentless act towards asking me out.

“I mean, how many times did he try?” Nick snickered. I blushed and looked down at my lap.

“Seriously, the creep should’ve left you alone after the sixtieth decline” Lyle said, an awkward laugh following. “How about a date with a real man?” My eyes widened slightly as I tried to see of he was being serious or not. I couldn’t really tell.

“Come on man, Gharam just started leaving her alone give her the space to breathe” Stuart spoke before I could say anything at all. I looked up at him for a moment, just as everyone began laughing again. But he somewhat ignored my glance, pretending to be interested in whatever Billy was saying. When I realized he wasn’t going to look back at me, I turned away and picked at my meal.

We’d stayed for another few hours that night, until a waitress came over and told us that she couldn’t let us stay any longer.

Her eyes were bored, dull as she looked over our table. I’d figured we’d annoyed her. We weren’t exactly a quiet group. But they landed on Stuart, to which she’d grinned mischievously, and her blue eyes lit up with what I could only describe as desire. Though the look didn’t bother me, it did confuse me greatly.

“Alright, we’ll be on our way” Nick had said, and everyone began sliding out of the booths. Stuart stood, and our waitress opened her mouth to speak, but he turned away from her, smiling softly towards me as I scooted out of the seat. Stuart held his hand down to me, and it landed on the small of my back as I stood. It stayed there as I walked with him to the front door of the restaurant.

Again, confusing me greatly.

But as soon as we were out of the view I looked wildly up to him, my eyes wide and brows furrowed with confusion and question. But he shook his head, just barely, but enough for me to close my mouth before any questions could be asked. The others had caught up to where we were waiting and we all left.

We walked up to the Golden Gate Bridge, as we’d done a few times before to go relax. I’d been there countless times, (I lived in San Francisco) but every time I went it was still just as breathtaking. The group of us laid down in the grass, enjoying the view of the night sky.

“Does anyone know any constellations?” Yo-Yo asked, a few feet away from me.

“Yeah I do” I said, already searching the sky for familiar ones. “There’s Orion” I said, pointing up to where I recognized his belt. “That’s Delphinus, Taurus, Pavo” I looked for more, licking my lips as I tried to remember them all. “I think.. Yeah thats Scorpius, and that’s-”

“How do you remember these all?” Stuart asked from right next to me. I turned my head, meeting his whiskey brown eyes. I blinked for a moment, then chewed on my lip.

“I uh… I minored in astrology for two years” I murmured. I didn’t mean to be quiet, my voice just sorta failed me. Stuart smiled at me, eyes flickering between mine and making my breathing shallow before he looked back up at the stars. I continued to stare at him for a moment, how freckles scattered over his jaw, and long strands of chocolate brown hair poked out from under his beanie, slightly over his ear. When I felt I’d stared for too long, I blushed and quickly looked away.

I think I was growing very fond of this Twombly boy.

When it became so late, the sun began to poke up, I was nudged. Apparently that night I’d fallen asleep in the grass.

My eyes fluttered open to see Stuart and Neha hovering over me. I waved them off and closed my eyes again, turning on my side.

“Come on y/n” Stuart sighed, and a few seconds later I felt strong arms pull me up. I yelped, jolting and opening my eyes quickly, only to hear his chuckle. “You’re fine, just go to sleep” Again, I’d found myself confusedly staring at him. But he didn’t see. He was talking quietly with Billy and Nick. This time I fell back asleep.

When I woke up again, I was being shook gently. I yawned, eyes landing on Stuart.

“Wha-where am I-”

“Calm own would you? Don’t you trust me?” I thought for a moment, opening and closing my lips. That was when I registered I was sitting in a taxi cab, and my head had been laying on his shoulder, cushioned by his beanie. Which still sat there.

“S-sorry did I fall asleep o-on you?” He chuckled and shrugged.

“Your fine. This is your complex right?” He asked, pointing up at the building lot we just pulled into. I nodded. “Good, that’s what Neha told me” He said. I straightened up, cracking my back as the driver parked. Stuart opened the door, stepping out and holding his hand out to me. My eyes locked on his for a long moment, before slipping my palm into his and letting him help me out of the car.

In fact, he’d walked me inside, and into the elevator to the third floor, down the hall to my room as I’d directed. I stuffed my hand into my pocket, grabbing my key and unlocking the door. When I stepped inside, I realized our hands were still conjoined.

“Would you like a drink?” I asked, not wanting to let go for an unknown reason.

“U-uhm sure” Stuart nodded, and I gestured my head for him to come inside. I released his hand, kicking off my shoes and padding my bare feet into the kitchen, and searching in the fridge for a beer. “I-I’ve never been here before” Stuart spoke, looking around. It was a pretty open apartment, the kitchen and living room practically conjoined. Only two doors, one leading to the bathroom, and one to my bedroom.

“No one has, really” I said, plopping two glasses onto the countertop, then searching for a bottle opener.

“Seriously?” Stuart walked over to me, standing on the other side of the counter. I nodded, going through drawers until I finally found it. I easily popped off the caps of the two glasses, and slid one over to him. He took it happily and I picked up mine.

“No, I don’t have company over for anything” I said with a shrug, heading to the living room.

“Not even Neha?”

“Not a single person” I said, plopping onto the couch. Stuart sat next to me, turning sideways to face me. “To you Stuart Twombly” I said, raising my glass. “For being my first guest” He rose his glass, to clink with mine.

We must’ve sat there for an hour, drinking until I was out of beer, and glasses of empty alcohol bottles were all over my coffee table. Not necessarily to get drunk, but we were having too good of a time. It was as though if we’d stopped, then the night would be over. We were enjoying ourselves so much, talking and laughing about little things. To think, the day before, that the only thing could tell you about Stuart Twombly, was his name, and he had an obsession with beanies and his phone.

“Okay okay okay…” I giggled and slurred drunkenly. “I’ll pick… truth” I said with a big smile. He was pensive for a moment, then grinned when he came up with an idea.

“Why’d you move here when you were so young?”

“I wasn’t that young. I was nineteen” I started, taking a swig of my beer. “My hometown sucked. I was bad at making friends so I didn’t have any, my parents… I didn’t have daddy and mommy issues by any means… but I needed a change” He nodded, content with my answer and took a drink. “Now, truth or dare?”

“Dare” He replied and I clapped my hands.

“I dare you to do a handstand!” I squealed, and he eagerly jumped off of the couch, then awkwardly laid his upper back and neck on the floor, propping his legs up, then laying his hands flat on the ground. He was able to hold himself up for a few seconds, but toppled over in a fit of laughter right afterwards.

“I almost did it” He slurred, still chuckling as he sat back up on the sofa across from me. We clinked glasses.

“Oh so close” I said with a giggle before drinking.

“Alright y/n, truth or dare?” Stuart asked, and I thought while he took a long drink.

“Okay… I’ll do a dare” I gave in, to his surprise. I had been dodging that choice the past fifteen minutes we’ve been playing. “Give me a good one though, not some lame ass prank call, you can do better than-”

“I dare you to kiss me” He said, in the softest voice I’d heard all night. My rambling was cut short, and I felt for a moment like I’d completely sobered up. I was staring straight into his honey eyes. I licked my lips hesitantly, then slid forward on the couch. I set my beer on the table, as did he. The entire environment of the room changed, and I realized my eyes had lingered on his lips for too long. I sure had a problem with staring at this boy. I looked up into his eyes for a moment, before closing mine and leaning in.

Our lips touched in a gentle kiss, my hands sliding up to frame around his face, pulling him ever so slightly closer. Stuart’s arms wrapped around my waist, tugging me further against him on the couch, until our chests were pressed together. I sucked in deep through my nose before we parted. His eyes stared into mine, and neither of us moved. Just our chests as we breathed deeply.

“Th-that was my first kiss” I told him softly between quiet pants. His brows knit together, confused.

“What? H-how?” I blinked a few times, unsure of how to answer. Maybe because I’d never had a boyfriend? But I wasn’t about to admit that now. Stuart released my waist, a hand raising to tangle his fingers slightly into a strand of my hair. “Can you promise me something, y/n?” He asked in a murmur. I nodded as he intricately placed the hair behind my ear. “Promise me you won’t forget how beautiful you are” He said quietly. I nodded my head after a moment.

“I promise” I answered, cheeks pink in a blush. Stuart smiled a small but genuine smile, and pulled away from me.

We sat back on our respective sides of the couch, and continued our game.

I thought for a moment as I remembered that night. We were so carefree, and maybe it was the alcohol, but maybe it was just how we were in general. Maybe we were just two young adults, enjoying our Friday night, getting to know each other. Or maybe it was what I had thought. Maybe we were falling in love.

Two weeks later, and Stuart and I were still complaining about our killer hangovers from our long night of drinking and talking. I’d woken up the next morning on the couch, my head in his lap, cradling an arm that didn’t belong to me. He was sat upright, his head hanging off the top of the couch and groaning about a headache. I’d remembered the events from the night before, and somehow managed to get up to retrieve aspirin.

Stuart and I became close friends. Very close in fact. The kind people constantly think are dating, not that I minded. I wasn’t sure if he did. I wasn’t even sure if he remembered what had all taken place that night, but I didn’t push the subject. We became the kind of friends who walk around holding hands, or hug, share food and drink, kiss on the cheek here and there- hell even I would think we were dating. (i wish).

We were sitting in my apartment, the night after our photo was taken at the cafe, his infamous beanie resting on my head. In fact, I was wearing it as of this moment. The both of us were sat on the sofa, watching tv. He was scrolling through his phone while I laid across his lap, my head on the armrest of the couch.

“Hey Stew” I said softly, not sure if I really wanted to ask the question I’d been hung up on for the past days.

“Mhm?” He dropped a hand to my arm to show he was paying attention, seeing that his eyes were glued to his phone.

“Do you remember the night you came over?”

“Mhm, worst hangover of my life” He snorted, glancing to me for a short moment. “Why? Wanna get drunk?”

“No, no Stew it’s important” I said as seriously as I could, but my voice was still quiet. His brows furrowed as he turned off his phone and looked at me.

“Alright” He said, meeting my eyes. “What’s going on in that messy head of yours?”

“Do you remember anything besides the hangover?” I asked, finding it difficult to hold his gaze. “At all?” I asked when he didn’t answer.

“Hold on I’m trying to think… I drank a lot that night” His eyes were squinted, and my heart managed to sink and beat faster at the same time. “I… we played truth or dare…” He started slowly and I nodded eagerly.

“Yeah yeah we did”

“And.. and I did a handstand?” I chuckled quietly and nodded again. “And… and you told me ab-”

“You asked me to kiss you” Stuart’s brows raised.

“Well that would've been something to remember” Normally I would have laughed.

“But-but you don’t?” Stuart shook his head.

“No… why was I bad?” He chuckled awkwardly to himself. I pushed myself up, and crawled off of his lap. “Why- are you alright?” I nodded, even though I wasn’t. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I’d made things awkward for you that night” I just shook my head repeatedly, staring down at my lap, where my hands were wringing together. “Hey is there.. Is there something else going on?” Stuart asked, turning to face me but I shook my head again. “y/n/n don’t lie” He put one of his hands on mine. “y/n” He said more sternly. I hesitantly turned my head meeting his eyes and I felt my foot tap quickly on the ground.

“Sorry, sorry no I don’t know what- I don’t know what got into me” He frowned, but eventually got up and stretched a little.

“I’m gonna get a drink” He said, walking over to the kitchen. I watched as he opened the fridge, and surprised me by pulling out a pop can.

“No beer?” He shook his head.

That was the last time Stuart and I talked to each other. Three months passed, and he hasn’t bothered to talk to me whatsoever. I can’t really tell why, I don’t remember having done anything that would’ve driven him away. The rest of that night I hadn’t mentioned the kiss, and it’s not like I admitted to him that I was in love with him. At first, it just really pissed me off, but now I just keep more to myself than before, and tried to ignore him at all costs.

No, that does not mean I’m happy. In fact, I’m beyond miserable. I don’t remember the last time I’d spoken to any of them, I’d hardly spoken at work at all. Just on the phone when a customer or my boss called. I’m not sure when Neha and I’s friendship ceased, somewhere along the line we just stopped talking. Sometimes she sits at my small table in the cafe for lunch, but we still don’t converse. Just sit there silently.

I walked in this morning, not anywhere near as dressed up as I used to get for work. I was in jeans, old and worn biker boots, and a tee shirt. My hair was in a ratty and messy bun, I don’t think I brushed my hair at all this morning. In fact, I don’t even remember walking to the building (I lived just two blocks away) but I can’t tell you remembering the scenery or people I passed. I groaned, rubbing my eyes as I sat down at my desk. My elbows propped up onto the desk as I dragged the skin around the edges of my eyes, hoping to rub the sleep out of them. It wasn’t working. A small groan left my lips as I turned on my computer and began to sign in.

“Good morning y/n” I jumped slightly, dropping my computer mouse onto the floor by my foot. “Oh I’m sorr-”

“It’s okay Lyle” I mumbled. “What did you want?” He seemed to swallow thickly, and readjusted the glasses on his nose. It made me think of the way Stuart used to always crinkle his nose before pushing his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose.

“Well uh, I’ve actually noticed your lack of interaction with the rest of the team, are you alr-”

“I’m fine, is here something important?” I snapped a little, but didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t want the others to notice my ‘coming out of the shell I’d been hiding in’ moment.

“Actually yes… someone from Communications is here to speak to you about your performance” I nodded my head.

“Well where are they?”

“At the door actually” I turned, and just as I did, Gharam walks over and stands himself next to Lyle, in front of me. I stared with wide eyes up at him, having heard many stories from Neha and Stuart about Gharam and his… foolish charms. “You look surprised darling” He spoke in an English accent, but something was off about it.

“I am, I wasn’t informed of any meeting, until here you are now” I straightened up, seeing that he was trying to intimidate me by leaning over, eyes downcast towards me. I pulled a slight smirk on, just small enough to be noticeable but not questionable. He only reciprocated it.

“Well love, I have an important question for you” You nodded, prompting him to continue. “Attention! Low life Google team!” Gharam held his hands out, earning the attention of Neha, Billy, Nick, Yo Yo, and Stuart, who watched me intently. But I looked back to Gharam.

“What’s this all abou-”

“Your very own lovely y/n here,has been given the opportunity of a promotion!” Besides Graham's clapping, the room was silent. I continued to stare at the englishman. “What? No applause for this stunning creature?” I wanted to be flattered by his strange way of flirting, but instead I felt like regurgitating. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Stuart walking out of the room, shaking his head. It would’ve broken my heart, if it wasn’t already shattered

“Why do I get a promotion?” I asked quietly, and Gharam grinned widely down towards me.

“Because you, my dear, would be a lovely head of the Communications department” My eyes widened like a cartoon, and my voice caught in my throat. How? My work has been average.

“I-I think you’re at the wrong-”

“Oh don’t be so modest, we can discuss the paperwork over dinner” Gharam smirked and winked, and I took a step away from him, huffing angrily.

“But I like working here!” I stated loudly, and angrily. My hands were in fists by my sides. “I like my group, I like my job I like my payroll, I don’t want a promotion” The man laughed loudly, holding his hands over his stomach like it was the most comical thing he’d ever heard anyone say.

“Oh don’t be ridiculous darling” He said, reaching a finger to swipe his thumb over my cheek. I smacked his hand away with a slap that seemed to silence the room even more. I didn’t notice that this was when Stuart came back into the room, I was too focused on the man in front of me.

“I’m not taking a job just so you can go out with me” I snapped at him, and moved to walk back towards my work space, but he followed me quickly.

“Problem? Gharam?” I spun back on my heel in shock of the voice I hadn’t heard in what felt like years. Stuart Twombly was standing in front of me, his back towards me and Gharam trying to tower over him. In seconds I watched as Gharam backed away, shaking his head and standing silently frozen. “Come on y/n” Before I could say anything, Stuart took my hand pulled me with him out the door of our large office flat. I walked quietly beside him, my hand still stuck in his as he led me through the hallways. I looked over at him, but he kept his focus on his walking. Dead ahead. He was on a mission it seemed.

“Stuart?” I spoke, my voice practically a mumble as we neared the exit of the building.

“Where have you been?” He asked as he pushed open the doors, with me still following right next to him. It was the first time his hand released mine.

“I haven’t been anywhere” I muttered, my eyes narrowing slightly at his apparent anger. “What, you’re mad at me because I haven’t been around?” He ducked his head down, instantly realizing his mistake. “Wow. Wow Stuart” I laughed bitterly, a passive aggressive grin on my face as I looked up. My palm pressed to my forehead as I calmed down my laughter. “If you don’t mind, I have work to get to” I said, turning to go back inside.

“N-no don’t leave” He quickly ran in front of me, hands out and a pleading expression on his face. “Please don’t just go”

“And why the hell not?”

“Because I miss you y/n!” He yelled exasperatedly, and my mouth hung open in shock. “I really fucking miss you” His voice softened, and I blinked, licking my lips before closing my mouth.

“I missed you too” I said weakly.

“And I do remember that night, I remember it vividly, every goddamn second of it” I couldn’t bring myself to tear my eyes off of him.

“Y-you did? Then why did you-”

“Cause I didn’t want to say the wrong thing… guess I did anyways” I frowned slightly, stepping a little closer to him.

“What did you think that you were going to say that would make me upset?”

“Upset’s not really the word… more like.. More like distant. I thought you’d be distant and I didn’t want to lose you or anyth-”

“What were you going to say?” I cut off his ramblings, stepping closer again, if I took one more step, then our noses would ‘bump together.

“I was going to tell you that..” He trailed off for a moment, looking down at his feet. “That um.. That I…” My eyebrows raised in anticipation. “y/n I really like you, I don’t know how you did it but you got me to fall for you in a matter of one night and I swear it wasn’t cause we were both drunk off our ass it was because you’re the first person I’ve ever met that’s… that’s real you felt real to me and I- I wanted to tell you that and I almost did but I didn’t want to mess things up-”

“You would’ve messed everything up” I told him.

“I know” He said quietly.

“Absolutely everything, you would’ve ruined everything” I heard him sniffle, and he still stared down at his feet. I chuckled quietly, and curled my fingers under his jaw, bringing his face up to look at me, even though he was practically above me. “But it would’ve been in the best way possible” I told him solemnly. I watched his eyes light up, and I smiled softly. Next thing I knew he leaned down, and gently pressed his lips against mine.

“I’m sorry” He mumbled between sweet kisses. “I shouldn’t have lied around it I should’ve just told you” I opened my eyes as his arms wrapped around my back, tugging me against him in a tight hug. I smiled, arms winding around his neck and holding myself there against him.

“Try not to ‘forget’ that kiss, okay?” Stuart chuckled against me.

“I’m not sure how I could”

guys i can’t tell you how happy i am to post again :) xoxo ~ joride

#Stuart Twombly #stuart twombly fanfiction #stuart twombly imagine #stuart twombly x reader #dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien fanfiction #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brien x reader #the internship #the internship fanfiction #the internship imagine #the internship x reader #the internship scenario

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angelsanarchy · 7 years ago

Note

"How much did someone pay you to wear that?" Stabby. (lmao cause she's a model geddit?)

Stuart walked into the apartment to see clothes strewn all over the place. This was a normal occurrence only when Abby had been gone away on shoots for Lindsey and wanted to separate things but also do her laundry in one fell swoop.

“Abs?” Stuart called out.

“Hey babe, I’m just throwing a load of laundry in.” Abby yelled back and Stuart picked up a random bikini or what looked like a bikini of some kind but he was unsure why it was almost entirely strings and coconut cups.

“How much did someone pay you to wear this coconut number?” Stuart carried the coconuts in his hands as he rounded the corner and saw Abby bent over in lacy boy shorts and one of his shirts.

“Enough for us to get that bigger TV we wanted. Also a bonus for being the only one willing to go completely nude.” Abby teased. Stuart tossed the bikini into the basket and gripped her hips making her jump and stand up straight.

“Any chance Lindsey got me some of those pictures to have for myself?” Stuart slid his hands up under the shirt and Abby reached back to grab his neck.

“Why do you need those photos when you’ve got me right here?” Abby could feel him pressing against her and he laughed.

“Well a guy has to handle himself when his insanely sexy girlfriend is off being naked on the beach with everyone else.” Abby laughed out loud and turned around in Stuart’s arms.

“Oh get over yourself. It was a long weekend. You were probably too busy doing nerd things with the gang to even think about jerking off so don’t give me that.” Abby knew Stuart far too well at this point. Living together for a year and a half had changed them both. While Stuart may not have been thinking about getting off, he did have trouble sleeping in their bed without her. It was kind of sweet. Sometimes he’d even crash on the couch because he couldn’t trick himself into thinking her pillow was really her.

“I just missed you and then the first thing I see of you is your ass. What’s a guy to do?” Abby rolled her eyes at him and shoved him away.

“A guy could help his girlfriend finish the laundry so they can make up for being away for the long weekend.” Stuart bent over and helped Abby throw the clothes into the basket and the washer when he felt something slap his ass hard. He shot upright and saw Abby smirking at him.

“Sorry I couldn’t help myself. You got one hell of an ass on you Twombly.” Abby teased making Stuart spin around and pick her up, making her scream as he sat her down on the dryer to finally get some prime making out in as her hands raked his shirt up and over his head tossing it into the running washing machine as the lid remained open.

“I like it when you wear my shirts.” Stuart mumbled through sucking onto Abby’s neck.

“I know you do, that’s why I wear them.” Abby reached for the belt on Stuart’s pants and he grinded his hips into her hand.

“Next time just be naked when I get home and I’ll try to be the same.” Stuart joked as Abby struggled to put her hand down the front of his jeans.

“Sounds like a deal. How about we race to see who can get naked first. Loser has to orgasm second.” Abby jumped down off of the dryer and yanked the shirt over her head running towards the bedroom.

“YOU’RE A CHEAT! But I like it.” Stuart fumbled with his pants as he ran, nearly braining himself on the coffee table. Abby was completely naked and waiting on the bed for him. He couldn’t help but smile. This is the life he always wanted.

#prompt #Stabby #thetenthdoctorscompanion #asks

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mummybear · 7 years ago

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This Dork :D Is life!

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mummybear · 7 years ago

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Gorgeous

#dylan #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien #dylan o brien #dylan o'brien photo set #Stiles #stiles stilinski #mieczyslaw stilinski #teen wolf #teenwolf #teen wolf cast #dave hodgman #thomas #Mitch Rapp #the maze runner #Maze Runner #the first time #Stuart Twombly #the internship

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writingsbychlo · 5 years ago

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café on the corner | stuart twombly

word count; 9220

summary; stuart takes his girl on the holiday of a lifetime, and realises something along the way.

notes; this is the second part of teh happy birthday fic for @stylesharrys, and it’s just pure fluff, go ahead. andenjoy.

warnings; smut, unprotected sex.

Shaking his shoulder, the man groaned as he rolled over, and you huffed out as you sat cross-legged beside him. Soft sunlight filtered through the soft cream blinds that were flowing in the room from the floor to ceiling windows to the balcony you’d been watching the birds from only moments ago.

“Stu, wake up!” You were whining the words out, and he groaned, rolling over in the bed and rubbing at his eyes. He cracked a single lid open to look at you, a smile taking over your lips as you cupped his cheeks, leaning over him and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He groaned lowly into your mouth, a hand lifting to weave into your hair as he moved his lips with yours slowly, his body shifting as he propped himself up on his free elbow, sighing when you pulled back.

“You taste like strawberries. Why do you taste like strawberries?”

He rubbed his lips together, licking over them as you pulled back, and he rubbed at his eyes as he woke up a little more. “I ordered a special breakfast. A birthday breakfast.” He sat up straight, looking over the meal sitting on the trolley delivered by room service and his stomach grumbled on queue.

“Last year I woke you up at nine to celebrate your birthday and you went back to sleep until midday. We start your birthday celebrations at..” His eyes flicked over, lifting his phone up as he checked the time, a chuckle on his lips as he saw it. “Ten to eight in the morning?”

“Last year we weren’t in Italy. Our last day in Italy, I might add.” He set himself up in the pillows, fluffing them before he was leaning back and watching as you darted around the hotel room in a quick flurry of movements, taking the wooden trays provided, stacked with sweet foods as you brought him over a plate of pancakes, drizzled with syrup and decorated with a collection of red, pink and blue coloured berries. “We need to make the most of this day! We need to really enjoy it!”

“Enjoy it? What have we been doing with the rest of the days then?”

The flight into Italy had brought a sleepy Stuart, who had snoozed for most of the flight, and a hyperactive version of you, practically buzzing in your seat, a squeal leaving you the moment the plane had landed. You had all but bounded through the airport, collecting your luggage and going through security, before the warm sun had been hitting your skin.

First stop, Rome.

Stuart had really gone all out with his planning. You had done tours of the colosseum and had lunch at a little café, sitting at a woven metal table under an umbrella, quaint stone walls with ivy tumbling down the sides as the smell of freshly roasted coffee filled the air. It had been the exact opposite of the concrete-jungle you’d come from, and it was perfect.

You’d moved from jewellery shops to little boutiques, all the shops you would never get to see in America as you bought trinkets and souvenirs, Stuart having promised that he’d bring something back for his entire team. Neha got a charm bracelet, Stuart disappearing into the store to buy it as you browsed the earrings, picking out a pair you liked just as he returned with the charm, wrapped in blue tissue paper and tucked in a paper bag with the store’s name hand-painted across the front.

Billy and Nick both got a pair of keyrings from a street-seller you’d come across while browsing open markets, and Lyle got a set of beautifully wove cushion covers for the house he’d just bought with his girlfriend. He’d been telling Stuart about her colour scheme for weeks, and so he’d enlisted your help in finding a complementary accessory that could cross as both a souvenir and a housewarming gift for when you returned. Yo-yo got a mug, with an inspirational quote in Italian and a collection of herbal teas, which he’d recently been trying instead of coffee, because he was already jittery enough, and he’d been so much better since the switch over.

You’d rearranged the items in your half-empty suitcase, purposefully left that way so that you could fit in everything you bought and wanted to take home, and you packed the delicate trinkets around your socks and t-shirts for padding.

Stuart had pressed kisses to your cheeks and your lips at every opportunity he had, mumbling his apologies for what had happened as he made up for everything that had transpired that had resulted in the impromptu birthday trip, and that night when you’d gotten to your first hotel, you’d taken his face between your hands, kissing him hard and telling him that it was all okay, and that you forgave him. He’d soon dragged you between the sheets for a memorable first night in Rome.

On your second day in Rome, you visited the Trevi Fountain and the Pantheon. The two of you had enjoyed coffee and hot, freshly-baked pastries at the same little café as the sun rose higher in the sky. You had taken cheesy photos together, both ones that you could frame and ones that would stay in your camera roll, your phone handed off to several people as you asked them to snap pictures of you and your boyfriend. He scowled each time you dragged him into another pose, but he smiled brightly and stood tall in every photo, his eyes on you in most of them as he watched how much you were enjoying yourself.

Your phone’s new lock screen was a picture you had taken before stopping to have lunch, the temple standing in the background as the sun shone down from overhead. You were on your boyfriend’s back, your legs wound tightly around his waist and arms around his neck, your lips pressing his a kiss to his cheeks and your eyes closed. That side of his face was scrunched up, a laugh on his lips from the sudden surprise of the kiss and his cheeks had tinted pink, and it had been one of your favourite photos of the two of you that had ever been taken.

After lunch, you’d travelled a little more, before making wishes at the Trevi fountain. As legend dictated, you’d stood together with your backs to the famous attraction, closing your eyes and making your wishes before flicking the coins over your shoulder, two soft splashings catching your attention as the metal disks sunk to the bottom, ripples on the perfectly clear blue water spreading from their entry-points. His arm had wrapped around your waist, dipping you down for a slow and passionate kiss as you stood beside the edge, and he mumbled just how much he loved you into your mouth as he pulled away.

His new lock screen was a picture he’d snapped secretly when you’d sat on the edge of the fountain, staring off into the distance as you took in the beautiful city around you, the wind sweeping through your hair, and despite how much you protested the picture, he claimed to love it, leaving a wet kiss on your cheek as he ignored your complaints. By the night, you were checking out of the hotel and boarding a train, snoozing together as you leaned against one another as the scenery flashed by the window in the dark.

You’d crashed at your new hotel the moment that you had gotten there, late at night and exhausted as you stripped down to your underwear. The third day of your holiday was full of teasing touches and lip bites as you both relaxed on the beach. Your favourite bikini adorned your body, a pair of khaki-green shorts on your boyfriend’s legs as he roamed the soft-sandy beach shirtless. He’d rubbed sunscreen into your skin, peppering your back and shoulders with kisses as you tanned int he sun. At lunch, you ate sandwiches from a stall and ice-cream from a beachfront shop, swapping cones halfway through and sharing flavours.

Sticky sweet kisses were shared between the two of you as his bubblegum flavoured tongue tangled with your raspberry ripple flavoured one, cold mouth soon warming up as you sat wrapped around one another on towels on the beach. When the sun had passed the centre of the sky, you’d dared to venture into the lapping waves, the clear and cool water calling to you.

You’d floated out further than the rest of the tourists were, the water lapping above your ribcage as it swam around his middle, his hands finding your hips and pulling you into him as his nose bumped yours. With nothing but quiet waves washing over your body in soothing movements, his hands roaming over your back as confessions and declarations of love were shared between the two of you, the ocean’s at the beaches of Italy being the only witness to your conversations, before you melted into his grasp, letting him scoop you up under your legs and wrap you around him as your mouths met.

You swam, and laughed, and you floated in the water and pointed out funny patterns int he clouds until the water was too cold to be in anymore as the sun painted the shy in pastel shades, and your skin was wrinkling like a prune. Your bodies were covered in sand when you lay out on the beach, watching as the day moved on and the nights closed in, stars twinkling in the sky overhead. When the cool night breeze had become too much, he’d held your hand and pressed kisses to your knuckles as you walked the quiet streets back to your hotel, brushing dried sand from one another’s bodies until you were waling through the lobby.

You shared a bath, a bottle of prosecco that you’d bought from the bar with two glasses sitting opened on the side as you leaned back against his chest in the warm and bubble-filled water, letting him slowly wash salt and sand form your skin as he sucked a delicate mark into the skin of your shoulder. The night ended with your forms wrapped in the thin sheets, your cries dying in his mouth as your back arched up from the mattress and his body rolled with yours, hand gripping the headboard and face buried in your neck.

Pisa was the next stop on your tour across Italy, and your boyfriend insisted on taking one of the goofy photos of himself ‘holding up’ the leaning tower. The place was buzzing with other tourists, more couples like the two of you were milling around and yet you still felt special. He made you feel special, he made you feel loved. His hand never left yours, the two of you climbing the tower with the tickets he’d booked in advance, your legs aching and muscles sore as you reached the top, and Stuart was mumbling under his breath about the modern age and elevators, but the view was breathtaking and worth every single step.

The journey down had been the killer, Stuart leaning against you when you were only a hundred steps down, and his large body slumped against yours only added to the struggle, but it was worth every second of it. The scenic picture of your lips locked and the sprawling Italian landscape spread out behind you both was stunning, and it was definitely one of the ones that you’d be framing and hanging on your walls at home.

You’d filled yourself with pizza form the booths set up, a huge wheel of hand-made pizza each, a portion of fries shared between you, and you’d spent the hour after that rubbing your full stomachs as you lay out on the grass, soaking up the warmth and chatting about all your best moments of the trip so far. You talked about where you’d be going next, talked about your dream travels, and indulged in a dessert from a small store, the tiramisu melting on your mouth as the taste of chocolate, coffee and cream coated your senses.

The evening had once again brought a train ride, taking you from Pisa up to Milan, and the city had been alive when you’d arrived, even in the late hour. You’d spent the night sweaty and drunk, grinding with your boyfriend in a club until you could barely stand without swaying to a beat, the thrill of good cocktails and better company buzzing through your system. His front pressed to your back, his arms on your waist and his mouth on your neck, your hands in his hair and on his shoulders, mouths pressed together and touches fleeting and roaming over one another.

The elegance of the final city in your whirlwind travels of the country had been different from the classic and historic beauty of Rome, or the fun and lighthearted ease of Pisa and the beaches of Tirrenia, and you’d spent the day strolling down the highstreets and shopping in high-class boutiques. You’d tried on dresses, modelling them for your boyfriend until you’d chosen your favourite, and he made you vow to save a dress that pretty for an occasion special enough to call for it.

Lunch in the bustling city brought a bowl of pasta shared between the two of you, kissing sauce from the sides of one another’s mouths and holding hands across the table. It was your penultimate full-day, and you were soaking up every ounce of classic culture that the beautiful country was offering. This hotel was by far the most beautiful of them all, a small balcony connected to your room with windows that spanned from the roof to the ground, opening up with delicate silk curtains covering the windows that allowed natural sunlight to filter in.

Birds would land on the balcony, a box of birdseed attached to the wall for optional feeding of the wild flocks, and the bed was king-size, soft cotton sheets for you to roll around in, and a bathtub you may as well do laps in. It was the big final goodbye to Italy, and it was incredible. It had rained on your second-to-final night, and so your plans to find a bar or club to share cocktails and dance in had slipped away, but your moods had never faltered.

Instead, the two of you ordered room service and drinks from the bar, your phone letting out the soft melodies of your favourite songs, the tunes you’d collectively gathered over your years of being together, and he danced you around, barefoot in your pyjamas as you slow danced across the carpet of your hotel room. The night had ended with the two of you watching movies, cuddling among the stuffed pillows and cushions.

At midnight, he had presented you with a cupcake. Swirling yellow and glittery icing atop the lemon-flavoured treat that you recognised from the bakery you’d passed by earlier in the day. He had produced a single candle and a lighter, letting you blow it out and make your wish. He gave you a kiss for every year of your age, before handing you the cupcake, and presenting the other five fruity and chocolatey indulgent treats, the two of you sharing the box of cakes before crashing, sleepy kisses and tired wishes of goodnight being the last to echo in the room around you.

You rolled your eyes at him, grinning as you took your own plate and settled into the pillows beside him, your bare legs stretched out alongside his, clad in plaid pyjama bottom pants. A long sleeve shirt sat on your torso, his chest bare, the two of you perfectly matching and he bumped his foot against yours, smiling as he stuffed a sliced off piece from the stack into his mouth.

“Shut up, you know what I mean.” A dribble of syrup ran along his lip, and you leaned in, licking it from his skin slowly before planting a kiss on his lips, the sugary taste spreading between both of your mouths and he grinned as he returned the affection, before turning back to his food and chewing his mouthful.

“Yeah, well, I’ve got it covered.”

His words were cryptic, and you raised a brow at him curiously. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see.” You grumbled under your breath about his lack of clarification, but chose instead to allow him to get away with it, the both of you happily eating your breakfasts. Throughout the meal, he’d cast you sly glances, the edges of his lips tipped up in a smirk as he looked at you, watching as you tried to ignore out what it was that he was scheming with, choosing instead to busy yourself by bumping your foot against his in tune with the song stuck in your head.

Upon finishing your meals, you were getting ready, the heat already beginning to come in, and while you were showering, Stuart had piled all your empty plates back up onto the room service trolley and pushed it out into the hall to be collected again later by a worker who may find it. He was freshly shaven, skin clean and smelling of aftershave when you emerged from the steamy glass cubicle, and he was wearing the smart green henley he’d brought with him and had yet to wear.

The olive-coloured material complimented the slight tan he’d picked up on your week here, and a pair of black skinny jeans-clad his legs, the cleaner pair of Adidas trainers on his feet. Instead of his usual glasses, he’d swapped them out for his prescription sunglasses, sitting atop his head as he tucked the regular pair into your purse just in case he changed his mind halfway through the day.

“You look fancy.”

His head snapped up upon hearing you enter the room, and he sent you a grin, eyes raking along your body, wrapped in a towel as you dried your hair with another one, and he licked over his lower lip. “You should get dressed, I don’t have sex scheduled until this evening if you keep standing there all wet and almost naked, we’re going to miss out plans.”

A laugh left you as you walked past him, leaning up to place a quick peck to his lips as you grabbed your hairdryer from your suitcase and plugged it into the wall, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as you ran your hand through the damp tangles. “You’ve scheduled in sex for tonight? I feel so spontaneous.”

His cheeks flushed as he scowled, dipping his head so that his sunglasses fell from the top of his head to sit over his eyes, and he stuck his tongue out at you playfully. “I had to schedule it in, because after the great day I have planned, you’re definitely going to want to suck my dick later.” He had a cheeky grin on his face as he watched your jaw drop, laughing and dodging the pillow you threw at him. “Hey! I just made that bed!”

“I’m sucking your dick on my birthday? Doesn’t sound very fair.”

“You love it when I fuck your pretty little mouth, and you know it.” He put the pillow back in place, your face going red as he looked at you, a moody pout on your lips as he won your quip-off, but he simply tipped your head up with a finger under your chin, pressing a peck to your pouted lips and smiling softly at you. “I picked out that nice white sundress you bought the other day, you should wear it. You look pretty in it.”

He left you alone, wandering out onto the balcony with his phone in his hands, no doubt to take a stream of selfies and artistic pictures of the view that he could send to his work group-chat and post on Facebook for his family to see. As introverted as he may seem, during your relationship Stuart had become well aware of how attractive he was, or at least well aware of how attractive you thought he was, and so he was definitely not camera shy.

It didn’t take long to dry your hair, and you’d almost entirely forgone makeup for your trip, choosing to let your skin breathe and simply applying sun lotion, a flick of mascara and some dots of concealer. By the time he’d deemed his photoshoot over, you were just fastening the straps on the wedge heels you’d bought that matched the dress, the boutique having been reasonably priced enough that you’d been able to afford both.

“Ready?”

“Of course.” He grinned, taking your hand and raising it up to his lips, before pulling you into him, pressing a long and sweet kiss to your lips, your mind blanking as you melted into him, hands clutching at the material of the shirt on his chest as you tried to grasp onto him for support. His lips worked slowly against yours, dragging together and working in perfect harmony, his tongue sliding along your lower lip, before he sucked on it just enough to make you gasp, your lips parting for him.

Sliding a hand into your softened hair, he tipped his head to the side, his tongue dipping into your mouth to tangle with your own and you whimpered into him, sliding your arms around his body to pull yourself closer to him, and his hand on your hip tightened. It wasn’t rushed or sloppy, but instead slow and loving and passionate, and you were breathless when you pulled away, your eyes wide when they finally fluttered open to look at him. “Woah. What was that for?”

“Because you look so pretty, and I love you, so much.” His lips pressed to your forehead before he turned you around, nudging you in the direction of the still open balcony doors. “Let me take a picture of you before we go.”

You indulged him, moving to stand out on the ledge, sun shining around you as you grinned for him, and he snapped a few pictures from different angles, before finally allowing you to come inside again, you scooped up your own sunglasses and adjusted your bag on your shoulder, checking you had everything you needed as he locked the doors, before his hand was taking yours, your fingers lacing together as he guided you from the room.

“So, what are we doing?”

He grinned at you, hitting the button on the hotel elevator and watching as the doors slid shut, the box kicking into gear. “Lots of things. Things you’ll love, I hope.” You squeezed his hand in support, placing a hand on his cheek and turning his face towards you, offering him the warmest smile you could as his eyes swept over your face.

“We could spend the entire day in the hotel room watching Netflix and I’d still love it. You brought me to Italy for my birthday, how could it be anything less than incredible?”

Your words made him smile, and he pecked the tip of your nose, the lift coming to a halt and the doors opening back up for you to allow you an exit, and he guided you out of the main doors and into the already bustling streets of the fashion-capital city. The heat hit you all at once, the air-conditioned coolness of your hotel slipping away as you followed him along the streets, a pep in your step as he guided you to your first location.

“Stu! Tell me what we’re doing!” Your voice was whiny, and he chuckled as your short walk was nearing its end, guiding you into the large plaza that was buzzing with people, both tourists and locals as they all went about their own days.

“Well, firstly, we’re going to climb up the Duomo di Milano, and take some pictures.” His mouth had formed the words perfectly, the accent coming out just right, and you smirked at him as he guided you towards the beautiful cathedral, the tall building towering over you and leaving a beautiful shadow across the ground, facts already pouring from your boyfriend’s mouth about the history of the building and what it would be like inside. The more Italian he spoke, the more facts and knowledge he poured out as he effortlessly guided you around the intricate halls and paths, you realised just how much effort he’d put into planning this day for you.

Once you had reached the top balconies, the sunlight filtering over the pale and sun-bleached stones, you pulled him onto the most aesthetic spot you could find, pulling out your phone as his arms wrapped around your waist, his nose nuzzling into your hair as you sorted yourself out with your camera. Twisting your face towards him, your lips found his, and he let out a happy hum as he eagerly returned the kiss, the sound of the camera snapping its picture being merely a dull echo behind you both as you got lost in the feeling of his lips on yours.

When he pulled back, he let out a shallow laugh against your lips, the sound carried on his little pants for air, and you bumped your noses together, before pulling away to look at the cheesy-pictures you’d taken.

“We look great. Don’t we look great?” You held the phone up for him to look at, and he lifted his sunglasses, glancing at them for a second before pressing his lips to your cheek and letting them fall back into place. “I can’t wait to get our pictures framed, or maybe make a scrapbook. Can we put some of the pictures around the house?”

“Whatever you want, baby.”

You took off in a detailed explanation of what you wanted to do with the memories you were capturing, your face lit up with joy, your thoughts all running together as you spoke quickly, the man you loved watching you with amusement, clearly not listening as he simply stared at you, before using the arms that were still wrapped around you to pull you into him, placing a quick kiss to your mouth to silence you of your hurried ramblings. “Non vedo l'ora di sposarti, un giorno.”

Your eyes were wide as you looked at him, your dropped jaw became a wide beam as you looked at him, taking his hand as the two of you moved on. “What does that mean? When did you learn Italian?”

“I spent the whole time up to the trip learning a few phrases to impress you. Did it work?”

“It did, I’m very impressed, and a little bit turned on. Did you learn anything we can use for that bit of scheduled sex later?” Your voice dipped as you spoke to him, and he gasped, a holding a hand over his chest as he guided you through the corridors and back toward the stairs, slipping a hand down to pinch your ass when he was sure nobody was looking, your body jumping and a squeak leaving you when he did.

“Voi dimmi, quando sei nudo e urlando per me.” He nipped at your earlobe as he spoke, not wanting any of the locals who spoke the language to overhear his dirty words, and your breath felt forced from your lungs as you flushed, the sudden heat on your body definitely not from the temperature the sun beating down on you was creating.

Following you trip up to the balconies of the beautiful cathedral, you wandered the plaza and the surrounding areas, taking in everything from the beautiful fountains to the scenic environment, and you couldn't have been happier of you tried, Your boyfriend was happy to follow you wherever you wanted to go, as long as by the time it was 2 p.m. you were ready for your next surprise.

That surprise happened to be a light lunch at Terrazza Aperol, overlooking the beautiful and historic building you’d been in an hour or so prior, and you were greeted with a complimentary Aperol Spritz, the two of you helping yourselves to small plates of food from their buffet tables, before settling into the comfortable seats under the shade of the umbrella. You were ecstatic, and clearly he knew, because he was grinning as he watched you settle into your seat, knowing how much you’d wanted to visit this particular spot from all the times he’d seen you save pictures of it on Instagram, or add it to your vision board for your travels to Italy.

“You know, Verona isn’t far from here.” You teased, and his brows raised as he pushed a mouthful of food up onto his fork, pausing on its way to his mouth as he sent you a crooked grin.

“You want to be the Juliet to my Romeo, baby?”

“Always. You know how much I love a classic romance.” He chuckled, chewing his food as he considered his next words, looking at you carefully.

“Okay, we can be star-crossed lovers, but only if you promise not to do anything stupid like dying on me, I need you too much. We have too much to live for yet.” You cooed at him, pressing a kiss to the edge of his mouth before pulling back, his eyes watching you with a look you couldn't quite decipher, before he seemed to clear his thoughts winking at you cheekily and moving back to his meal.

The afternoon was spent with both of your hands wrapped around one of his arms, as he took you through the Galleria Vittorio Emanuele II, letting you glance into every little shopping spot you desired, never once rushing you or looking bored, but letting you take your time, and he carried all the bags, filled with items you were purchasing as you went, never letting you carry any bag that wasn’t your purse.

By the time you had finished, the temperature was beginning to cool as you moved onto the late-afternoon, and you made the quick trip back to the hotel to put down all your shopping bags. You flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as you let pure bliss overwhelm you, the day having been more than you ever could have wished for.

“Today was amazing. Thank you so much, Stuart.”

“Don’t get too comfortable, I have one more surprise for you.” You propped yourself up on your elbows, raising a brow at him as he dug through his bag, before pulling out the smart button-up shirt he had packed in there at the beginning of the trip. Placing his sunglasses down, folded and finished with as the sun sank lower and dimmer on the horizon, he tugged the henley up over his head, and you bit your lip. Normally pale skin had a slight golden hue, the dark hairs standing out deliciously from the smatterings across his chest and down below his navel, dipping into his jeans as they sat low on his hips.

Your view was covered when he closed the new shirt around himself, doing up the buttons carefully and chuckling at you when you whined at him. “Are you sure we can’t have that scheduled sex now? You look good.”

He had a slight pink blush on his cheeks when he looked back to you, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt and placing his usual glasses on his nose, ruffling his hair a little bit as he laughed lightly. “We could, but then we’d miss our dinner reservations at one of the restaurants along the Navigli canals.”

You shot upright, looking at him with a dropped jaw, and he held his hands out for you, pulling you up and into him as you gaped. “Are you serious?”

“Do electrons carry a negative charge?” You rolled your eyes at his nerdy joke, excitement flooding through your body at the thought of the evening ahead. “It’s a nice little place, I figured if we go now, we can walk along the canals and watch the sunset before eating? What do you say?”

You nibbled on your lower lip, pecking his lips before taking his hand, a dangerous glint on your eye and a smirk on your lips when you turned back to him, swiping your bag and the hotel room keycard from the counter. “I say you were definitely right before when you said I’d be wanting to suck your cock tonight.”

You opened the door, his loud laugh ringing out into the corridors as you let it swing shut behind you, and he wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you close to his side. “Told you so.”

The elevator ride felt too slow, you could feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing up as you tapped your foot, nibbling on your bottom lip. Stuart’s arm over your shoulders felt far too heavy, but it also felt like he was anchoring you to the ground, and you were overly aware of the fingers drawing patterns on your arm.

The little old lady facing away from you was paying no attention to you, she was reading the leaflets on the inside of the door as she talked to her friend, the two of them arm in arm as they shakily read the pamphlets about activities to do within the hotel, and Stuart was mouthing your neck, leaving wet marks on your skin, his glasses fogged up and smudged as his face buried in your neck, and you had to choke down the moan that wanted to bubble up and out of you.

Only three floors to go until you reach your own.

You had walked along the canals together, snapping pictures of the sunset and holding one another close as you made the most of your final night in the European city. You’d taken pictures of the pastel colours of the sky reflecting on the water, and you’d chatted about your trip, talking together about how you promised to return one day, to do all the things you’d never had a chance to this time, before finding your restaurant and ready for the bookings.

Dinner had been incredible. You’d shared a bottle of local wine, and you’d eaten pasta and sweet desserts until you’d been full. Chat had ranged between playful banter and flirty comments, working the two of you up. It had started with his leg bumping against yours under the table, hands brushing across the table and subtle looks over one another with bitten lips. By the time dessert had been served, he’d moved onto your side of the booth, a hand on your thigh, squeezing and teasing, your bodies pressed together, feeding one another spoonfuls of gelato, slices of fresh fruit and whipped cream.

You could still taste the sweet treat in your mouth and you watched the floors count up, finally landing on yours as the moving box came to a halt and the doors slid open. Taking your boyfriend’s hand in your own, the ding of the doors closing again sounded when you were only feet out of the elevator, and you dropped his hand, desperately fishing through your purse for the keycard to your room.

Hands were hot on your hips, a growl into your neck as he used a single finger to pull the spaghetti strap of your sundress down until it fell loose over your arm, and he sucked a large mark onto the skin of your shoulder, knowing that it would be deep purple and expansive in the morning, your hands shaking as you waited for the light to change front red to green, and for the door to click open.

The second it had, you were twisting in your boyfriend's arms, stumbling through the door and wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling his mouth down to meet yours. He groaned against your lips, a sloppy kiss, all tongue and teeth and pure frantic desperations as the door slammed shut behind you and the sounds echoed from the walls. Your hands slipped down to his chest, tugging and pushing at buttons as you tried to get the button up undone, deciding to just rip it, the pieces of plastic hitting the floor as the material gaped open, and he moaned low in his throat as you did.

“Did you just rip open my shirt?”

Ducking your head, you pressed your lips to his chest, licking a wet mark across his skin and following it with your kisses, his hands on your hips tightening infinitely as his head fell back. “You bet I did. I’ll stitch the buttons back on when we get home, it’s fine.”

“I so don’t care about anything other than being buried balls-deep inside of you right now.” His voice was low and gravelly, and you wobbled on your heels, his strong arms holding you firm as your hands trailed down to rest on his forearms. Your eyes scanned over the tan skin, the veins protruding even more prominently from his strong grip on you, and you felt like you were on fire. A single hand slid around to the back of your dress, tugging down the zipper and helping you to shed the material, his breath hitching in his throat as he looked at you. “So fucking perfect for me.”

You reached up to his shoulders, pushing away the button up until it fell to the floor, and you moved to pop the button on his jeans. Large palms fondled at your ass, and you yanked down the zipper on his jeans, trying to push them down your hips as he played with the lace, letting his hands slip underneath to rest on your heated flesh. “I really need you to take these jeans off, and I need you to fuck me. Like, right now.”

“Is that a birthday wish?”

“Well, there are no candles to blow out, but I could blow on something else to make it come true?” He smirked at your words, kicking off his shoes and holding up his hands, folding them behind his head as a cocky look took over his face.

“I think we could make that work. On your knees, baby.”

You grinned, dropping down and taking a fistful of material on either side of his hips, tugging down both his boxers and his jeans until they were stuck around his thighs just above his knees, a dripping cock pointed straight at you, swollen and red as it bobbed before your face. Wrapping a hand around him, you pumped slowly, skin slick from his own precum and you licked over your lips, before taking the head into your mouth.

Swirling your tongue around the head, his hips shook, your hands rounding his thighs as your nails dug into the firm flesh, a humming sound leaving him as you focused your attention. Moving further down, your tongue flattened, trailing over the vein on the underside of his cock, until your nose was brushing the hairs at the base of his thick cock, gagging around his length and slurping at him, your eyes watering as you swallowed around him, and he let out a long groan, a hand dropping to lace in your hair as he pulled you back from his cock.

A string of saliva connected you to him, and he wiped under your chin, breaking it away as he looked down at you. His lips were parted and puffy from the kisses you had shared, and his eyes were blown with just, his hand cupping your cheek as his thumb ran over your lips.

“You’re a fucking vision. Down on your knees, chin wet with your spit from taking my cock so good. But, it’s your birthday, so get up here and I’ll give you everything you want.” He held a hand out for you, and you licked along the length of his cock, gathering the salty essence that was beading at the slit on the tip before taking his outstretched hand, lifting you up to your feet as you stood before him. Sliding his hands around to your back, your bra came loose, and he slid down your arms, your nipples pebbling in the cool air. “Tell me how you want it, and you can have it.”

“Firstly, I want it hard, and rough.”

“Like this?” He tugged you in toward him, wet cock pressed to your thigh as his hand found your hair, pulling your head back and exposing your neck to him, his mouth descending to your neck. He licked and sucked at your skin, nipping along your jaw and marking you up for anyone to see when the marks came through in the morning.

“Yeah.” Your breaths were shaky, and you wiggled your panties away and down your hips, letting them fall to the floor for yourself to step out of, leaving you in just your heels. “Then, I want it slow, show me how much you love me.”

“I can do that.” Without any further hesitations, his hand around your thighs, knocking your legs out from underneath you as he twisted you back to fall against the soft quilts lining the bed. With a hand on one ankle, he pulled you back toward the edge of the bed, your feet touching the floor one by one as he unstrapped your heels and dropped them to the floor. Wet kisses were placed up the insides of each of your legs, nips replacing the soft exchanges when it came to your inner thighs, and you were already trembling by the time he licked a stripe from your entrance to the pulsating bud of pleasure.

Two fingers prodded at your core, slipping into your slick hole with ease as he wrapped his lips around your clit, sucking harshly and your back arched up, a cry leaving you as your legs bent at the knee and your hands wrapped into his hair. Your hips were rolling into his face, and he let out a low growl against your core, one large palm spreading out over your stomach as he forced your hips back down into the bed, holding you still as his pace picked up.

His fingers were slamming into you, brushing against that spot within you each time, and he scissored them, opening you up wide with a delicious burn, cries and please leaving you as your arousal gushed around your fingers.

“Holy shit, Stuart.”

“That’s right, moan for me, sweetheart. Soon you’ll be telling all of Italy who’s making you feel good.” He dove back in, growling and nibbling at your clit, the nub swollen with joy as your hips bucked under his hold, and his mouth moved down, slurping up the juices flowing out around his fingers as pornographically wet sounds filled the room. “You want to cum on my tongue? I bet you did, I can feel how you’re squeezing my fingers, such a good girl.”

“‘M close, Stu.”

“Come on, baby. Cum for me.” On his words, his fingers pulled out of you, tongue plunging into your core as his arms wrapped around your thighs, and a squeal left you, a sob following it as your body trembled and shook, your orgasm crashing over you and racing through your body, your body feeling as though it was floating on clouds. Your arousal gushed from you, and he sucked up every drop you released, moaning and grunting into your folds as he cleaned you up, never ceasing until you were pushing his head away.

He left wet kisses up your stomach, a mouth closing around one breast as he lapped at your tits, hot breath washing over your skin as he swirled his tongue around the taut peaks, before swapping to the other one, fingers still wet with your fluids as he twisted and tugged with his fingers, his name on your lips like prayers as he worked, before finally making his way back up to your lips.

Your taste was shared with you, still strong on his tongue as it pushed into your mouth to tangle with your own, his mouth slanting over yours, and he lifted one of your thighs up to rest on his hip, the tip dragging through your sodden folds. “You want me to go get a condom, or you?”

“No, I think we can go without.”

“Holy shit, okay.” He grinned, pecking your lips before he was placing hands on your hips, kneeling back and flipping you over, your cheek pressed to the sheets as you gasped, and he planted a firm smack to each side of your ass, your body jumping with each touch, your eyes sliding shut as you moaned.

Tugging you up, your ass was up in the air, chest and face pressed into the covers and he sunk into you smoothly, buried to the hilt within a second, and a scream tore from your lips, feeling filled up and stretched out in the most perfect way. You rocked your hips back into him, and his hands held your hips firm and locked, tutting under his breath, followed by a growl.

“Keep still, baby. Be good for me.” He gave you another quick set of spankings, and you whimpered, sounds muffled by the covers, before a hand took a fistful of your hair, pulling you up to prop you on shaky arms, his hips swivelling within you. “I need you to scream for me, to tell everyone around who’s making you feel good. Leave your mark in Milan, for me?”

He had pulled back as he spoke, and snapped into you as he finished his sentence, something between a scream and a moan sounding out, and you mumbled praises to him, encouraging him to repeat the actions as his hips snapped into yours once again. Your eyes were rolling back in your head, broken and stuttered sounds leaving you as he fucked into you from behind, your knees digging into the mattress as you rocked back into him.

Your skin slapped together, one of his hands on your hip and one of his hands wrapped in your hair, holding your head back so that your moans could bounce and echo around the room. You pushed yourself up further, his arm slipping around your waist as he took the hint and he pulled you back until you were kneeling on the edge of the bed, his feet still planted firmly on the floor as he kept his chest to your back.

“Kiss me, Stuart.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, your head tipping to the side as he leaned forward, slamming into you and tapping against your sweet spot as his lips met yours. Your tongues dragged together, wet muscles wrapping together in passionate embrace as you connected in the most intimate of ways. He was buried deep within you, a repetitive rhythm that was pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm that would blow your mind, and your body was rocking with every movement he made.

You gripped at his arm, nails digging into his skin as he pounded into you, mouths pressed together as you swallowed the sounds each other made, before he was moving his fingers down to your clit. Your body jerked the second the pad of his fingers brushed across it, and he pressed down, rubbing hard and fast circled into the bus as you gasped and cried out in bliss.

Your climax crashed over you, wave after wave of bliss, his pace never letting up as your eyes rolled back, your head resting on his shoulder as he grunted and growled into your ear, fucking you through your climax with a bruising pace. Your body spasmed, and he let you go, letting you fall back into the pillows with a bounce, legs twitching and jerking until he finally pulled out, and you let out a happy sound, laughing breathlessly and moaning as the aftermath raced through your body, still able to feel his bruising touch on you, the feel of him pounding into you.

You rolled onto your back, watching as Stuart knelt on the bed between your legs, a dopey smile on his face as he ran a hand through his hair. Reaching up, he plucked the glasses from his face, putting them down on the bedside table, a thin layer of sweat making his skin shine in the low light from the street and the stars that was flittering through the window. Leaning over you, his hands held him up on either side of your head, and you wrapped your weak arms around his neck, and he pressed a series of short kisses to your lips.

“I love you so much.” His nose bumped against yours as he spoke, and you let out a sound of satisfaction, pulling him back down into a longer kiss, his hips settling between yours. Parting your legs further, he had no struggle with slipping back into your sodden heat, joint moans leaving you both as he inched into you.

You could feel every throb of his cock, every inch and ridge within you both sliding together until he was seated snugly within your walls, filling you up and stretching you in ways that made you quake, as though he had been made for you. “I love you, too.”

“I may not last long.” His face buried in your neck, a hand lifting you thighs up until they crossed over his back, heels digging into his ass as he rocked his hips slowly, dragging together in slow movements as he fucked you with purpose, his mouth leaving sweet kisses along your skin as you tipped your head to the side to grant him further space.

“That’s okay. Fill me up, Stuart, give me everything you’ve got.”

He nodded, pushing himself up so he could rock his body into yours, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him. Your walls clenched around him, drawing him back in with every thrust he made, and you rocked your hips up to meet him, kisses and mumbles of love shared between the two of you. Red streaks were left along his mole-spotted skin, your nails raking across his skin as he pleased you.

A third orgasm was building within you, your bodies sliding together as he dropped down until you were chest to chest, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed as you gasped. Your lips barely brushed, but it was enough to spark electricity within you each time, and with just a pout of the lips your mouths would be sealed together.

Hot breath washed over one another skins, quiet moans and desperate pleas slipping between the two of you, and with one final and deep thrust, his body stiffened, moans rising in pitch a few octaves, his voice cracking as he yelled out your name.

The feeling of hit cum spilling into you, shooting powerfully from his tip as he remained buried deep within you threw you into a final orgasm of your own, your back arching up as the two of you pressed together, sloppily rolling your bodies together as you rode out the pleasure, spikes of bliss still moving through your body leaving you both twitching, and he slumped down on top of you.

“That was absolutely incredible.” He breathed, and you giggled, a moan slipping from him as the action caused you to clench around him, and he pulled back, rolling himself off of you and pulling out as he collapsed beside you on the bed, an arm slung over his eyes.

“Birthday sex always is.” You mused, curling into his side and he dipped his head down to press multiple kisses along your forehead and hairline, smiling into your skin as he wrapped his arms around you tightly.

You lay there, letting your heart slow and your breathing relax, the man under you going placid as his breaths became steady, eyes closed and grip on you loosening. Twisting to look at him, his eyes were closed and his lips parted, snoozing quietly beside you. With a chuckle, you eased yourself up, making your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up before pulling on the henley your boyfriend had discarded before dinner.

Possessions were scattered around the room shoppings bags and clothes, bags and chargers, and you knew that after the night's activities, your boyfriend would be sleeping in late. You had seen a sweet little café on the corner of the street your hotel was on, and you planned to take him for a final breakfast there on your way to the airport.

Folding up your clothes and beginning to pack into your suitcases, you pulled on a clean pair of panties as you went, kneeling on the floor beside both of your open cases, choosing to just pack everything into either case, no need to pack individually as you’d only end up unpacking together anyway. As you folded away the gifts, you got each of them out, folding the beautifully patterned paper bags to preserve them as you stashed your souvenirs away safely.

Your brows furrowed when you came to packing away the gifts he had bought for his friends, two neat little packets instead of one falling from the first bag you had purchased, all the way back in Rome. Each wrapped up in the signature blue tissue paper, one was flat and flexible as the charm bracelet should be.

The other was circular and solid, and you peeled back the tissue paper carefully, squeaking when you revealed the item held in your hands, your eyes wide and jaw dropped almost to the floor. Lifting the lid carefully, a little light lit up inside of the box, illuminating before your face as it shone down on a precious golden band, a beautiful gem sitting on the ring, a smaller one on either side to decorate it, and you felt bile rise in your throat from nervous excitement.

Closing it again, you wrapped it carefully and chose to place it back inside the bag with the other one, placing it discreetly into the suitcase, choosing to hide that you’d ever discovered the gift he’d secretly bought. The rest of the packing was haphazard, your mind spinning with possibilities, and when you were finally crawling into bed beside your boyfriend - soon to be fiancée, it seemed - he barely surfaced enough to roll over and snuggle you back into him.

A mumbled and barely audible ‘I love you’ slipped from his lips, and you pecked the tip of his nose, his lips curling up happily in the state he was rendered in, somewhere between asleep and awake. Glancing at the suitcases you had zipped up, locked, and propped by the door, your eyes sliding closed as you held the man you loved close, anticipating what was to come.

There was no rush, you knew it would come and so for now, you were happy to just breeze through everything at your own pace.

“Non vedo l'ora di sposarti, un giorno.” - “I can’t wait to marry you, one day.”

“Voi dimmi, quando sei nudo e urlando per me.” - “You tell me, when you’re naked and screaming for me.”

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