Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Wilbur! Do you know where I left my phone? I can’t believe I left without it,” you shouted at your roommate when you walked through the door. Your voice traveled throughout the apartment, but it didn’t quite reach Wilbur. He was much too focused on something else...

He laid on his bed, one hand wrapped in the tangles of his own curls and the other around his cock, jerking himself off. Many small noises left his lips as he kept his eyes shut tight.

The door to his bedroom had accidentally been left open a crack. He must not have shut it all the way. Of course, he didn’t think that it mattered. He wasn’t expecting you to be home anytime soon; you were supposed to be hanging out with your friends, not coming back for a few more hours. Wilbur had even waited 15-30 minutes after you left in case you had forgotten anything, but here we were.

He subconsciously bucked his hips, letting out swears under his breath as he felt the pit in his stomach quickly build up. He slowed down, panting heavily as he tried his hardest not to finish right then and there.

You originally planned on getting in and out of there quickly, but you had to walk past Wilbur’s room to get to yours, and his symphony of moans and breaths caused you to stop in your tracks. You knew that the right thing to do would be to keep walking and pretend that you never heard anything, but with his door slightly cracked open, it felt like Wilbur was practically begging to be seen, and a small peek wouldn’t hurt, right?

You bit your lip as you carefully looked through the cracked door, only to find a fully naked Wilbur, his erect member dripping with precum in his hand.

You felt your face heat up while you watched your roommate in this rather embarrassing, vulnerable state, but for whatever reason, you couldn’t seem to bring yourself to look away. The two of you had been living together for several months now, and you never thought of him as anything more than a friend. In this moment, though, hearing how vocal he was and seeing his body in all of its glory (especially the impressive length of his cock) made you feel something.

You even found yourself feeling a bit disappointed when you saw him drop both hands to his sides, catching his breath and staring at the ceiling. For a second, you thought that he was done. That he wasn’t even going to let himself finish. But as he grabbed a pillow and flipped himself onto his stomach, you realized that you were mistaken.

He only got louder when he began to hump his pillow. It was very clear that he was under the impression that he was home alone. You wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors could hear him. If they could, you just hoped they wouldn’t file a noise complaint.

Unfortunately, with him in this new position, you couldn’t see much. That didn’t stop your mind from wandering and imagining you were the pillow he was currently pounding–

I mean– No. You didn’t mean that. Wilbur was your roommate. You were only thinking like this because of the situation, surely. You didn’t even like him like that. At least, you never thought you did. Not until now.

His thrusts quickly became sloppier, and you saw his hand move down his body again, presumably wrapping it around his cock again. Wilbur’s breath hitched as he moaned:

“Oh my god, fuck, holy— fuck, fuck, fuck!” he whined before letting out one final, loud groan as he collapsed on top of the pillow, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took as he came down from his high.

You could only stare at him in awe until he finally began to get up. Taking a step away from the door, you put your back up against the wall next to it. You heard him moving around in his room and you knew you should walk away before he came out, but for whatever reason, you didn’t.

Wilbur’s door swung open, and he walked out in nothing but his boxers with the bedsheets and the pillowcase that were on his bed only moments ago in hand. His face was already a bit red, but when he saw you, it only got redder. He stuttered, stumbling over his words until he found the words to say. “How– how long have you been standing there? I thought you weren’t going to be back until later–”

You shrugged, glancing down at the bedding he held. He quickly hid it behind his back, but not before you saw the cum painted all over it. Choosing to ignore his question, you said, “I forgot my phone and had to come back for it. Do you happen to know where I left it?”

“I– um, it’s.. In the kitchen? Maybe?” he suggested. He was clearly embarrassed, but all of a sudden, you found it adorable.

You looked him up and down, biting your lip. “Alright. Thanks, Wil,” you smiled as you started walking towards the kitchen. You stopped before reaching the end of the hall, however, turning around to look at him. “You are very vocal, by the way. It’s kinda cute. Oh, and uh… so is the way you fuck your pillow.”

You chuckled a bit as Wilbur’s face got as red as you thought it possibly could. You could hear him stumbling over his words again as you turned, most likely to defend himself, but you ignored it, going to the kitchen to search for your phone. You took your time, silently hoping that Wilbur would end up following behind you, but he never did.

In the days that followed, you found yourself constantly replaying the scene in your mind. Each time you passed Wil in the hall, you could hardly look him in the eye. It seemed to be the same for him, too, but you figured his was for much different reasons. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so forward to him about it.

As the two of you sat in the lounge, watching TV while eating whatever meal you prepared that night, you noticed how awkward things felt. The tension was unbearable. Normally, he was always talkative, especially when you guys ate. Now, he stayed quiet, keeping his eyes on his food and occasionally looking up at the TV screen.

You grabbed the remote, pausing the show and turning to face him. “Wilbur. About the other day–”

He bit his lip, finally meeting your eyes with both embarrassment and curiosity. “Uh, yeah?”

It was now your turn to look at your plate. You pushed your food around with your fork nervously, trying to think of how to word what you wanted to say. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I–I shouldn’t have watched. I understand that it was a huge invasion of your privacy and that I should have just kept walking and pretended that I didn’t hear any of it. I just… I dunno, I guess I couldn’t help but notice how… intense it was.”

His cheeks flushed a bright red as he kind of choked on his food a bit in surprise. He took a sip of water, trying to help the food down. “I, uh, yeah. I guess you could say that.”

“I did mean what I said, though,” you admitted after a moment of silence. “About it being cute. Hot might be a better word for it, actually.”

Wilbur shifted in his seat a bit, putting his plate down on the coffee table in front of you guys. “Hot?”

You shrugged a bit. “I mean, yeah. I never really thought of you that way before, but now I don’t know. Well– maybe I did, and I didn’t realize it until now.”

“I never considered that you might feel that way. I mean, we’re just roommates. Right?”

“Yeah. We are,” you nodded, “but that doesn’t mean we have to stay just roommates.”

The suggestion hung in the air between you. Neither of you seemed to know how to respond to that. As he kept quiet while you stared at your food, again, you wondered why you said anything about it at all.

You let out a shaky breath, putting your plate on the coffee table now as well, before standing up. “Fuck, I’m sorry. Again. That was stupid of me, I need to shut up–”

You went to walk away, but Wilbur stopped you. He held onto your wrist, making you look at him. He looked back at you with a look of what you could only describe as a mix of hope and hesitation. “No, you’re right.”

“I am?”

“Well… I’d be lying if I said I didn’t fancy you at least a little bit,” he mumbled, chuckling at his confession. He rubbed the back of his neck before saying, “I just never thought that you’d feel the same way.”

Wilbur’s words lingered in the air, soft and sincere. He gave you a smile, one that was way less awkward than all of the other ones he’d given you in the last couple of days. The tension between you two seemed to ease slightly, replaced by something calmer. You sat back down beside him, closer than before. His arm brushed against yours, and neither of you moved to fix it.

“So…” he started, his voice low, “what now?”

You thought for a moment, watching his face while he awaited your response. Being this close to him, you really got a good look at him. You had no idea how you never noticed how attractive he actually was until now. His hair fell over his forehead, stopping just before his big, brown eyes.

As you took your time admiring him, Wilbur slightly pouted his bottom lip, assuming you were thinking of how to tell him that all of this was all some sort of cruel joke. Instead, you leaned in to kiss him. It wasn’t dramatic or desperate. Just a soft, careful press of your lips to his, like a question. And when he kissed you back, it felt like an answer.

When you finally pulled away, his eyes were wide, lips parted slightly like he wasn’t expecting it, even after everything. He blinked a few times, then let out a breathy laugh.

“Okay,” he said, smiling even more now. “So definitely not just roommates then.”

You laughed too, smiling back at him. “I guess not.”

You both fell quiet again, and for the first time in days, the silence between you felt comfortable. Easy. The TV was still paused, forgotten, and your plates sat half-full on the table, but neither of you seemed to care.

It was enough for now. No rushing into labels or expectations. Just two people, sitting close. Not just roommates anymore, but something new. And that was more than enough to start with.

Chapter Text

You woke up on your stomach in an uncomfortable position on the floor, a cheek against the cold linoleum. Your mouth was dry, your body ached, and your vision was still slightly blurry from having just woken up. When you went to rub your eyes, though, you realized that you were unable to move your arms… they were tied behind your back. You tried not to panic as you tried to blink the blurriness away, but you had no idea how you ended up here.

You didn’t remember anything, and you certainly didn’t understand why you were on the floor, let alone tied up. You tried to steady your breathing as you tried your best to remember something– anything. But alas, nothing came to mind. You had no other options but to stay where you were, confused as fuck.

As your vision became a bit clearer, though, you felt your heart sink to your stomach. The panic you felt quickly transitioned into fear, causing you to freeze up. You recognized this apartment. How could you not? Once upon a time, you used to practically live here, often spending the night and then staying throughout the day. You remembered the lack of lively and colorful decor, the dim lighting, and the lived-in messes that you always offered to clean. Of course, you remembered. It was the background of many of your worst memories (and a few of your favorites, too).

“Why, good morning, sleepyhead.”

Hearing his voice made you jump. It had been so long since you heard it, you had almost forgotten what it sounded like. Hearing it again was like opening a fresh wound; it fucking stung. It was interesting how much things could change over time. What once was an accent that made you weak in the knees out of love was now one that made you practically cower in fear.

“Wilbur,” you spoke flatly after having taken a deep breath to ground yourself. You tried to sound as calm as you could, but you knew it didn’t matter. If he couldn’t already see the fear that lived in you, you wouldn’t be surprised if he could smell it on you. “What am I doing here?”

He clicked his tongue. Because you couldn’t see him at the moment, you could only imagine that he was probably shaking his head as well. “Really? No good morning? No, Wilbur, wow, how are you? No, oh, Wilbur, how I’ve missed you?”

You said nothing in response. Not only for the reason that your voice was so hoarse that it sounded and felt as if it hadn’t been used in days, but also because you knew any answer you had wouldn’t please him. You had nothing nice to say at the moment, especially considering that you were currently tied up on your ex-boyfriend’s floor. Unwillingly. You still weren’t sure how you ended up here, but knowing him, you definitely had some ideas.

His heavy boots were loud as they moved across the room, the noise only getting closer to you. You kept your eyes down, especially when he took a final step in front of you. You looked at his shoelaces, which made you wonder for a moment what exactly your hands were tied up with. Your thoughts were interrupted when he kneeled down. Even though you still couldn’t quite see him yet, you could feel his eyes all over you.

“Darling,” he spoke softly, running his fingers through your hair. It took everything in you not to flinch at his touch. “Come on. Talk to me, please… I need to hear you.”

“...the last time we spoke, you said you never wanted to see or hear from me ever again. So why am I here?”

As Wilbur’s hand froze, you knew that you probably shouldn’t have brought it up and that you should have just cooperated with him so you could get out of this situation and off of the fucking floor, but for the first time throughout your guys’ never-ending toxic relationship, it was him who ended things. Wilbur. The one who worshipped the ground you walked on, but only before making you feel like a worthless nobody that no one other than him could ever love. It was like he was a completely different person each hour of the day, switching back and forth between good and evil. You knew he wasn’t good for you. You had walked away from him numerous times at this point– actually, you had lost count– but you always came crawling right back. When he was the one to finally break up with you, though, you couldn’t bring yourself to even try to return. After your conversation, you were far too scared to find out what would happen if you did.

He let out a long breath while he struggled to find the words. Finally, you tried to look up at him, but with your current position, your eyes could hardly reach his torso. You imagined that he was looking up at the ceiling, deep in thought. He spoke slowly, “I… regret. Saying all of those things to you. I wanted to apologize.”

You laughed before you could stop yourself. “So you fucking kidnapped me?”

Wilbur sucked some air through his teeth, as if hearing the truth of what he did somehow hurt him. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“What would you say then, Wil? How did I get here?”

He shifted uncomfortably. Whether it was because he actually was or was simply tired of kneeling, you couldn’t tell. “Well… I did somehow, uh, manage to slip something into the drink you got with the food you ordered to your place the other night,” he admitted. Then quickly started to explain himself: “But I didn’t do it to hurt you! I really only wanted you to be asleep long enough for me to get into your apartment and bring you here. I-I didn’t think you would come here willingly if I asked–”

“So you fucking kidnapped me,” you said again, flatter this time. “You roofied me, broke into my apartment, tied me up, and kidnapped me.”

“When you say it like that, it sounds really bad.”

“Because it is!” you shouted. “It’s actually a fucking crime! And you said a few days ago? How long have you had me hidden in your apartment, Wil?”

“Um… well, let’s see. That was on Wednesday, wasn’t it? And today is… uh, well, today is also Wednesday–”

“You’ve been holding me hostage for a fucking week?! Are you fucking insane?! Surely someone has reported me missing by now.”

Wilbur quickly got up, walking to the other side of the room. “No, no! I grabbed your phone and I’ve been texting everyone back, pretending to be you this whole time. They think you’re on a little holiday.” He came back, holding your phone in front of your face for a moment to show you. “See? It’s fine!”

You actually couldn’t believe him right now. You were speechless. You knew he was a little crazy, but this whole ordeal was a whole new level of crazy, and the fact that he saw absolutely nothing wrong with what he did was astonishing. You sighed, quickly making a mental note to yourself to later change the password to your phone and never order takeout again. But the mention of takeout and the sudden realization that you’ve been lying on your ex’s floor for a week now made your stomach growl. As much as you didn’t want to speak to him right now, after a long moment of silence, quietly, you said, “Get my face off of the ground, Wilbur.”

He got on his knees in front of you to sit you upright, but you kept your eyes shut tight. You didn’t want to see his face. Not right now. His cold hands grabbed you by your shoulders, gently placing your back against the wall. Based on the fact that his first thought wasn’t to untie you, you had a feeling you were going to be stuck here for a while longer.

“Baby,” he whined. “I know you’re upset with me, but please look at me. I missed you so much. I only brought you here because I love you, you know that, right? I love you. And I really am sorry.”

Giving in, you eventually did open your eyes. You figured it would be better to listen to him than to fight him right now, especially when he had the upper hand. Your eyes immediately met his beautiful but empty, wide, doe eyes. Strands of his long, messy hair fell over them, but he quickly pushed them out of the way, probably to get a better look at you. You noticed that the bags under his eyes were sickenly dark and that his skin was somehow paler than usual, or maybe it was the lighting. Yeah, the lighting. That’s what you told yourself, anyway. You didn’t want to think about the possibility of your absence being the reason why he looked like such a wreck.

He gave you a crooked smile, happy to finally be making eye contact with you. “You must be hungry, yeah? I made you something, for when you finally woke up. I can go get it, if you–”

“Sure.”

—

Eating something Wilbur made for you probably wasn’t the best idea. You should’ve thought about the fact that the whole reason you were here in the first place was because he literally roofied you, but you were so fucking hungry. When he mentioned food, you didn’t even give it a second thought. As he fed it to you, it crossed your mind for a second, but you figured that he wouldn’t put something in your food twice, right?

Wrong.

As you sat there on the floor, your legs pressed together with every urge to hump at the air eating you alive, you knew that Wilbur had to have something to do with it. There was no other explanation as to why you felt this horny out of the blue. You weren’t sure you had ever been this aroused in your life. Part of you wished you were still in your previous position on the floor. That way, you could make more contact… As pathetic as it was, yes, you were desperate enough to dry-hump the ground. But you didn’t want to end up stuck lying on the ground again, and Wilbur wasn’t home to help you back up. Wilbur wasn’t home to help you at all.

You groaned, breathing heavily as you shifted uncomfortably. For the first time since you had woken up, you tried moving your arms more, pulling at whatever restraints Wilbur had put on them. You did everything you could in that moment, but no matter how hard you fought against them, it didn’t seem like they were coming undone anytime soon. Tears built up in your eyes. You were beyond frustrated, sexually and mentally. There wasn’t much you could do other than rock back and forth and whine.

“Are… you alright?”

The sound of Wilbur’s voice scared the shit out of you again. You never heard the door open, and you certainly didn’t notice him enter the room. He almost looked worried, watching you in this state. You weren’t sure how long he had been standing there. You didn’t care. You had never been happier to see him.

“Wilbur–” you breathed out, looking up at him. “Wilbur, I need you to untie me. Please.”

“I’m not sure I can do that…”

“You drugged me. You kidnapped me. I know you put something in my fucking food, so untying me right now is the least you could fucking do.”

He looked confused at the mention of tampering with your food until a look of realization appeared on his face, which was quickly replaced with a look of guilt. He kneeled in front of you. “Shit– I’m sorry! I prepped it for you the other day when you were still asleep. When I gave it to you, I- I forgot that I put anything in it. I’m so sorry. After our conversation, if I had remembered, I wouldn’t have– I didn’t mean to–”

You knew that he was the reason you were here. You knew he was a terrible guy. You knew you should hate him with every bone in your body. But with your current state of mind, and the arousal only getting worse, none of that seemed to matter. Of course, giving in only meant giving him exactly what he wanted, but right now? You couldn’t seem to care.

You interrupted him. You didn’t need to hear all of his excuses right now. “Fuck me, Wilbur. Please.”

He looked at you, a bit taken aback. He stood back up, looking uncomfortable as he shook his head. “No. I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you.”

“Oh my fucking god, it’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” When he looked a bit upset at that comment, you took a deep breath, trying to find a better way to word things: “I’m asking you to, Wilbur. Don’t you remember how great we are together? You want to, I know you do. That’s why you put something in my food in the first place, right?”

Wilbur took a step back, thinking. He looked hesitant, but deep down, you already knew what his answer would be. He could never say no to you. When he finally let out a defeated sigh, you straightened your posture, looking up at him.

“Please,” you said softly one more time before he got back on the ground with you. From his pocket, he produced a small pocket-knife. Turning you around gently, he carefully cut off your restraints. The moment your hands were free, you turned around, grabbing his face and kissing him hungrily.

He kissed you back without hesitation, dropping the knife to the floor to pull you closer. If your relationship wasn’t so toxic, someone might say that the two of you were literally built for each other. Your faces slotted together perfectly, and in moments like these, you were both so in sync.

Wilbur moved a knee in between your thighs, finally giving you something to make contact with. You moved your hips to grind against it, moaning into the kiss. Wil took this opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch of it. There were times when you thought about fighting him to let you explore his, but you knew that he would win.

After a while, you slid your hands down his chest and stopped at the bottom of his shirt. He broke away from the kiss and, while catching his breath, pulled his shirt off over his head. It was as if he could read your mind. You couldn’t help but stare at him. Even in his sickly skeleton-boy state, he was truly beautiful.

You were only able to stare for so long before he helped you remove your shirt as well. He then hid his face in your neck, planting kisses everywhere he could reach and trying to find all of the different spots to mark you up.

“Wil, please,” you whined, moving your hips against his knee again. “We can skip foreplay. You should already know that I’m ready. I need you.”

“Mmm, but I missed you so much,” he spoke against your skin. “I want to love every part of you.”

“You’ll have time for that later,” you said, letting your hand travel down to his belt.

Whether or not that was entirely true, you didn’t know yet. It made him chuckle, though, pulling away from your neck and getting off the ground. You watched him carefully while his eyes traveled your body with a smirk on his face. As he took another step towards you, it was clear that he was planning something.

You opened your mouth to speak, but were caught off guard by Wilbur’s boot tapping your inner thigh. “Spread your legs for me,” he ordered.

“But–”

He kicked one of your thighs, trying to open them up himself. “Spread them.”

It shocked you at first, watching him go from so loving to demanding. Like I said before, it wasn’t too unusual for him to switch up like that, though. Besides, the sudden change in demeanor excited you. You spread your legs for him, looking up at him with anticipation. Wilbur kicked your thighs again, trying to get your legs as far apart as they could with your pants still on. He then placed his boot on top of your crotch, slowly adding pressure as he practically stepped on you.

You couldn’t help but moan, watching his smirk grow as you squirmed underneath him, having not much of a choice but to move your hips against his shoe.

Wilbur leaned down once more, his hot breath against your ear as he whispered, “You’re so responsive. I love how you react to me. Even when you don’t want to.” His hand found its way to the back of your head, gently pulling your hair to make you look up at him.

“You’re driving me crazy, Wil,” you gasped with desire.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. “Because I plan to keep doing that for a very long time.”

Chuckling, he took a step back and held out a hand for you. You grabbed it, and he helped you up. Your legs felt weak, most likely from having been on the floor for so long, or it could have been from the kicking. Wil must’ve noticed because he wrapped an arm around you, making sure you were at least somewhat supported all the way to his bedroom until you were on his bed.

He climbed on top of you and kissed you again, with just as much passion and hunger as before. You could feel the heat building between the two of you, and the tension was becoming even more unbearable. Wilbur’s touch was electric, each caress of your side sending jolts of pleasure through your body. You arched into him, wanting more, needing more.

“Wilbur. You know I can’t take much more of this.”

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on yours, and a wicked smile reached his lips. “Oh, but you can,” he teases, pulling you flush against him. You felt his hard length pressing against you while his hand moved down your body, stopping to unbutton your pants. “I want you to forget everything except for this moment, except for us. Cause that’s all that matters.”

You nod, your breath hitching as he slowly slid your pants and underwear down, his fingers brushing against your skin and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You lifted your hips to help him, your eyes never leaving his, even while he got the rest of his clothes off, too.

As he moved to position himself between your legs, you whispered, “Make me forget, Wil. Make me forget everything but you.”

He smiled, a slow, sensual curve of his lips. “Of course,” he chuckled, his hips rolling against yours. You whined again at the sudden friction, wrapping your legs around his waist and pulling him closer. You could feel him, hard and ready, pressing against your entrance. You gasped as he slowly pushed inside, already filling you completely.

He gave you a moment before he began to move. His hips moved in a steady, slow rhythm that didn’t last very long before he picked up the pace, quickly thrusting his cock in and out of you.

“God, I fucking missed you,” he groaned. “You feel so fucking good. I missed you so much.”

You could only moan in response, your body trying its best to move in sync with his, attempting to meet each thrust of his with an eager lift of your hips. The room soon filled with the sounds of both of your moans, gasps, and Wilbur’s headboard violently hitting the wall.

Wilbur’s hand moved down to find its way to touch you, earning you even more pleasure while he fucked you. The two sensations quickly become overwhelming for you. Your hands went to dig into the bed’s blankets, but with his free hand, Wil reached for yours, intertwining the two of your fingers together.

“Fuck,” you cried out, your body tensing slightly as the pressure inside of you kept building. You squeezed his hand tightly. “I’m so close already. Don’t stop. Please don’t stop–”

Upon hearing that, he increased his pace. “Cum for me,” he panted. “Please.”

His thrusts became deeper and even more urgent, determined to push you over the edge. You could feel every inch of him inside of you, showing you very little mercy; if you couldn’t walk very well before, you definitely wouldn’t be able to now.

With a final moan, you felt yourself coming undone, your body shaking as the waves of pleasure crash over you one last time. Wilbur followed soon after, his own release triggering another round of aftershocks in your body.

He pulled out and collapsed on top of you, his breathing staggered and heavy. You found yourself wrapping your arms around him, holding him close as you both came down from your highs. And while he showered you with kisses afterwards, telling you how much he missed and loved you, as always, you wondered why you two ever broke up in the first place. In that moment, though, it didn’t matter. You wrapped your fingers in his brown curls, casually letting go of anything that had happened before and letting the never-ending cycle that was the two of you start all over again.

Chapter Text

You were curled up on the couch in the living room, balancing Wilbur’s laptop on your knees. You’d offered to help him finish editing a video of his so he could take a nap; the jet lag hit him pretty hard, and he wasn’t quite used to the time difference between New York and Brighton just yet. You told him that you edited videos for Schlatt all the time, just to reassure him by letting him know that you knew what you were doing. He was hesitant at first– you couldn’t blame him– but eventually he dug his computer out of his bag and handed it over before disappearing to the guest room.

Schlatt had flown Wilbur out for a video idea he had in mind for the two of them, but the actual shoot wasn’t for a few more days. If you remembered correctly, Wil would be staying with you guys for a little over a week. You two didn’t know each other very well. Him being here didn’t bother you, though. He and your boyfriend were close, even if they lived an ocean apart.

You were so in the zone that you didn’t even notice Schlatt enter the room until he dropped next to you on the couch. You pulled off your headphones, giving him your full attention, and he gave you a crooked smile in return.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, looking at the screen in your lap. He laughed. “Is he really having you edit a video for him?”

“I told him I could,” you chuckled while you shook your head. “He was practically falling asleep trying to do it himself. Besides, it gives me something to do. I don’t mind.”

Schlatt hummed a bit, then reached over and gently lifted Wilbur’s laptop from your legs and set it on the coffee table, along with your headphones. “I can think of something better you could do.”

You scoffed, raising an eyebrow at him. “Oh, really? And what would that be?”

He placed a hand on your knee, fingers trailing slowly upward, slipping just beneath the hem of your shorts. Normally, you’d jump at the opportunity to mess around with him; he was usually too busy with work to think about any of this, let alone be the one to initiate it. As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t seem to shake the fact that the two of you weren’t exactly alone. You caught his hand and put it back at his side, shaking your head. “I don’t know what you’re thinking, but in case you’ve forgotten, your friend–”

“Is sleeping,” Schlatt interrupted. As he leaned in closer, he snuck a hand under your shirt. You shivered at his cold touch while he traced circles on your back. “That gives us what? An hour? Maybe more if we’re lucky?”

“Not if we wake him up–”

“You’ll just have to be quiet then. Won’t you, doll?” he whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine again.

He kissed your cheek, lingering there for a moment. You could feel the warm breath coming from his nose and the scratch of his mutton chops against your skin. It was the kind of closeness that made your heart flutter.

When you didn’t say anything for a moment, he spoke softly: “We don’t have to if you really don’t want to. If the thought of him being here makes you uncomfortable, I understand.”

You bit your lip, turning your head to look at your boyfriend, which was a big mistake. His eyes were watching you carefully, full of love and affection. It was nearly impossible to say no to him when he looked at you like that. And that damn smirk of his was growing– Oh, he knew exactly what he was doing. You could see it in the way he waited for your response, patient but still smug.

Rolling your eyes, you playfully hit his chest. “You’re an asshole. You’re lucky I love you,” you muttered, laughing a bit and leaning in to kiss him, sliding your arms around his neck.

Schlatt smiled against your lips, deepening the kiss as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. You shifted slightly, carefully stradling him. Almost immediately, your fingers found their way to the hair at the nape of his neck and began playing with it, resulting in a small breath from him. He took off his baseball cap, giving you full access to his hair before settling his hands on your hips. The two of you kissed each other eagerly, hardly giving the other any room to breathe. It had been so long since you guys had done anything like this, you weren’t sure if you could even remember when the last time was.

“Shit. I missed this,” Schlatt mumbled when he finally pulled away for some air, his voice rough and breathless. He rested his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, you’ve been busy,” you said, which was true. There were many nights when Schlatt got so caught up in his work that you had to practically pull him away from his desk just to eat. That was the main reason why you started helping him with editing in the first place; you thought it would help give him some more time to himself (obviously, it didn’t, but you were still happy to help him out).

He chuckled, biting his lip. “Yeah, but I still hate how easy it is to forget how great this feels.”

You moved your hips against his, a small grunt escaping his lips while he looked at you. You simply leaned in, kissing the corner of his mouth. “Then stop forgetting.”

He shook his head. You barely had time to react to it before his lips found yours for the second time. Again, the kiss was urgent and full of need, like he was trying to make up for all the lost time. You couldn’t help but melt into him. Schlatt’s touch was familiar, yet so rare nowadays that it almost felt foreign. Still, though, he knew exactly how to get a reaction out of you.

His lips never strayed far from yours, trailing down your jaw, brushing your neck, then returning to your mouth like he couldn’t stand the distance. His hands roamed your back, your sides, your thighs—everywhere he could reach. And it drove you crazy. You loved this side of Schlatt.

As you continued to rock against him every now and then, unable to do much else, he groaned. His noises covered up the slight sound of the couch creaking beneath you. Even if you could hear it, you don’t think either of you would care. You were too wrapped up in each other, both metaphorically and physically.

One of his hands traveled down your torso, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts, his fingers teasing the edge of your underwear. It happened so fast that you gasped without even thinking about it, and his free hand quickly met your mouth, covering it as his eyes met yours.

“If we’re gonna do this, you’re gonna have to be quiet,” he whispered. “Do you understand?”

You nodded your head excitedly. Schlatt went to move the hand he had down your pants, but stopped himself. Uncovering your mouth, he moved some of your hair out of your face and looked at you lovingly. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” he checked in.

You told him you were, and that was all he needed to hear before fully forcing his hand into your underwear, wasting no time to begin touching you. Your eyes fluttered shut as your body arched instinctively into his touch.

Schlatt’s hand stroked your most sensitive spots, and all you could do was squirm, biting onto your lip while trying your best not to make a sound. You hid your face in the crook of his neck, breathing heavily through your nose. But when his fingers started to tease your entrance and slowly pushed into you with no warning, a moan escaped your lips that you were unable to suppress.

“Shh, shh, shh… you’re doing so good,” he purred, covering your mouth again. “You can be quiet, I know you can. You don’t want to wake up Wilbur, do you?”

Honestly? Your mind was too clouded with pleasure that you probably wouldn’t even care. All you knew in that moment was that you didn’t want your boyfriend to stop.

His middle and ring fingers thrusted in and out of you, each move almost enough to make your entire body jolt. You could feel the pit building in your stomach, your skin flushing, and your heart racing. Schlatt noticed this and slowed his pace to a speed that suddenly felt like torture.

You whined behind his hand, trying your best to ride his fingers, yearning for him to speed back up, even if it was just a little bit. He just smirked at your desperation, saying, “C’mon. Not so fast, doll. I wanna savor this.”

Schlatt continued slowly, whispering praises in your ear, letting you know how great you were doing. His words alone were pleasurable enough. Being so focused on his speech and his fingers, you didn’t even hear the footsteps in the hallway. Nor did you see Wilbur stop dead in his tracks in the middle of the doorway, eyes widening as he took in the pornographic scene happening before him.

He blinked, unsure whether to turn around or announce himself. He didn’t speak. Didn’t move. Just watched. He wanted to turn away, but something stopped him. It might have been the curiosity, or even the disbelief. But to tell the truth, it was most likely the rising issue he suddenly had in his pants.

Wilbur’s pulse quickened as he watched Schlatt tease you. Although he couldn’t actually see much due to the fact that both you and Schlatt were still fully clothed, the sight of you two was enough to ignite his imagination. The way your body moved against Schlatt’s, the view of his hand in your shorts, and the look on your face painted a vivid image in his mind.

It all made him feel horrible, thinking about his close friend and his friend’s partner like that. The guilt gnawed at him, but it was quickly overshadowed by his own arousal. He couldn’t bring himself to look away, and before he knew it, Wilbur’s hand was carefully palming himself over the fabric of his sweatpants.

The room was filled with a tense silence that was only broken by the soft sounds of your pleasure and the occasional whispered praises from Schlatt. As Schlatt’s fingers picked up pace again, you let out a loud moan that made both of the boys’ cocks twitch.

“Schlatt,” you breathed out, moving your body in sync with his fingers. “I’m so fucking close.”

He nodded in response, making sure to curl his fingers while continuing his exploration, bringing you closer and closer to completion. All of a sudden, though, he stopped. You whined at the loss, confused, your body aching for release.

“Get up real quick,” Schlatt ordered quietly, quieter than you had ever heard him before.

Staring at him, you noticed his eyes gleamed with a look you weren’t entirely unfamiliar with– a look that showed he was planning something, but this time, it was mixed with something else. You couldn’t put your finger on what it was, even when you crawled off of his lap and he got off the couch.

A bit disoriented, you watched him as he walked to the other side of the room, where you finally saw him: Wilbur. Your cheeks flushed a bright red, wondering how long he had been standing there. Wilbur’s did, too, embarrassed by the fact that he had been caught.

Schlatt stopped in front of him, their chests close together. “Well, well, well,” he started, his voice low and mocking. “A little peeping Tom, aren’t you, Wil? You just couldn’t resist the urge to watch, huh?”

Wilbur gulped before he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out, frozen in shock like a deer in headlights.

A chuckle escaped Schlatt’s lips that sent a chill down Wil’s spine. “Cat got your tongue? You know, it’s rude to watch without permission.”

“Schlatt,” you called out, grabbing the attention of both of them. They looked at you, chests heaving. Even from the other side of the room, you could feel the tension burning between them. “Are you… thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

He bit his lip, looking Wilbur up and down. You remembered once, a long time ago, when you and Schlatt talked about some of your fantasies, drunkenly confessing them to each other over dinner, giggling and embarrassed while discussing each one. It was then that you discovered that most of the porn Schlatt watched was in the threesome category. The idea excited him, but with how possessive he actually was, he knew that if it were to ever happen, it’d need to be with someone he really trusted.

“I know you don’t know him very well, but,” he started, his eyes reaching yours, full of sincerity, “I trust him. It’s your call, though.”

You appreciated how your comfort was always Schlatt’s number one priority. Thinking about it, you looked at Wilbur. You had to admit, he was attractive; you definitely wouldn’t mind if it were him. Your eyes traveled down his body, stopping at the outline of his hardened cock in his grey sweatpants. Jesus.

He looked between the two of you, the embarrassment on his face being replaced by confusion. “Wait… what– what are you two talking about right now?”

Schlatt ignored him, awaiting your response with a raised eyebrow. You took a deep breath, your mind racing with the thought of what he was suggesting. Finally, you gave Schlatt a nod. You didn’t mind at all.

“Look– I’m really sorry,” Wilbur said. “I–I can go back to the guest room and you guys can–”

As he spoke, he didn’t notice Schlatt’s hand grabbing onto the drawstrings of his pants until Schlatt yanked on them, pulling their bodies flush together. The sudden friction of their hips crashing together earned a moan from Wilbur, who was quick to clap his hand over his mouth.

Chuckling again, Schlatt leaned in, his breath hot against Wilbur’s ear as he whispered, “Don’t act all innocent, Wilbur. You’re as hard as a rock, I can feel it.”

You watched attentively as Wilbur stumbled over his words to try to defend himself. Yet again, though, he was interrupted by Schlatt, who traced a finger along Wil’s jawline before fully closing the gap between them, pressing his lips to Wilbur’s in a slow, teasing kiss.

Wilbur hesitated for a moment, nervous and unsure, taking so much time in deciding what to do that Schlatt started to pull away, scared that he may have taken it too far. When Wilbur noticed, he quickly brought him back in and finally kissed him back.

You stayed on the couch and watched them with wide eyes. You felt your heart pounding in your chest. You were surprised by Schlatt’s actions; when picturing a threesome with him, for some reason, you never imagined that Schlatt would do much with the other person. As Schlatt and Wilbur made out, though, and you felt your arousal growing stronger, you sincerely wondered why you never did.

Schlatt’s hands slipped down Wil’s body, dipping low enough to palm the bulge in his pants through the fabric. Wil gasped, hips moving against his hand involuntarily. He brought his hands up to Schlatt’s chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if to anchor himself. The look of fear he once had melted into desire, need, and desperation.

“Jesus Christ, you’re pathetic,” Schlatt murmured against his mouth, breaking the kiss just to whisper the words. He laughed a bit while Wil squirmed beneath his touch with wobbling knees. “I bet even just a few more seconds of this could get you to cum for me.”

You cleared your throat, trying to remind the two of them that you were still there, too. Both of their heads snapped to look at you. Immediately, Schlatt dragged Wilbur to the couch, pushing him down onto the cushion next to you.

“Think you can handle a bit more, Wil, or are you gonna chicken out?” Schlatt asked, sitting on the other side of him. His hand inched up Wilbur’s thighs, watching him glance over at you. “They can take good care of you, too. Trust me.”

Wilbur shifted in his seat, seemingly getting a bit nervous again. He bit his lip. “…you’re sure you’re okay with it?”

Schlatt rolled his eyes. “They just watched me make out with you for a lonnnng time. I’m sure they feel left out by now.”

Your fingers brushed Wilbur’s arm, goosebumps rising under your touch almost instantly, while you leaned in closer, whispering in his ear, “Oh my god, Wil. Schlatt was right, you’re so fucking hard.” Your voice was breathy, full of tease as your hands then found their way into his lap alongside Schlatt’s, cupping Wil’s hard cock through his pants. He let out a small whimper, impulsively bucking his hips again, which made you giggle.

“So needy, isn’t he?” Schlatt grinned before grabbing onto the waistband of his pants.

Eagerly, Wilbur lifted his hips for Schlatt to pull his pants and boxers down, exposing his stiff cock to the cool air. Compared to Schlatt’s, Wilbur’s dick looked to be a few inches longer, but a little less girthy. It throbbed, sticking straight up with precum beading out of the tip. While Schlatt pulled Wilbur’s shirt over his head, you wrapped your hand around him, beginning to stroke slowly. His breath hitched, both from pleasure and surprise, his head falling back and eyes fluttering shut.

From that point forward, there was almost never a moment of silence. Wilbur was extremely vocal; as long as you or Schlatt were touching him, there would be a sound made in return, whether it was a moan, a shaky breath, a whimper, a gasp, etc. The symphony of noises drove you crazy.

Schlatt looked at you, his eyes glowing with approval. As you continued to slowly move your hand up and down, Schlatt stood up to remove his own clothes, stripping off his shirt in one swift motion. His fingers fumbled with the zipper of his jeans next before he was able to shove them down along with his boxers, his hard, thick cock springing free. He watched the two of you, stroking himself once with a low growl.

Wilbur lifted up his head to look at Schlatt, eyes as big as saucers, unable to look away while his dick twitched in your hand. Schlatt sat back down, chuckling, leaning in to kiss along Wilbur’s neck, his teeth grazing his sensitive skin and leaving red marks behind. Wilbur’s body could only shudder.

You decided to finally pull your clothes off as well, earning a long whine from Wilbur when you removed your hand from him. He quickly forgot about it, though, when Schlatt started forming a rather large hickey in a very visible spot on his neck.

“Schlatt!” he squeaked, swatting at him. “We still have the video to film. Everyone’s gonna see it if you leave it there–”

“Mmm, should’ve thought about that before spying on us then,” Schlatt hummed against his skin. After he noticed that you were done undressing, he smirked and held his hand out for you. “Do me a favor and suck on these for me?”

Nodding, you leaned forward, eagerly taking a few of Schlatt’s fingers into your mouth. You sucked on them hard, your tongue swirling around them while he continued to mark up Wil, whose hands hesitantly reached for your hair, gently moving some of it out of your face for you.

Schlatt pushed his fingers further in your mouth momentarily, causing you to gag on them. He chuckled as he pulled them out with a wet pop, a string of saliva connecting them briefly. “You’re always so good for me, doll,” he praised before turning his attention to Wilbur. “I’m gonna need you to bend over real quick.”

He looked nervous for a second, but wasted no time obeying. He shifted in his seat, and Schlatt helped guide him, bending him over across your lap. You rubbed circles on Wilbur’s back, watching as Schlatt’s wet fingers slid between his ass cheeks, teasing his tight entrance before slowly pushing one inside, stretching him carefully. Wilbur let out a loud moan, his body tensing and his hands gripping onto the couch.

Schlatt carefully worked him open before adding a second finger just as Wilbur’s body was starting to relax. “Oh, that’s it… Take it like the needy bitch you are,” Schlatt mumbled, moving his fingers in and out of Wilbur at a painfully slow pace. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

Tiny tears welled in Wil’s eyes at the pain while he cried out at each move of Schlatt’s fingers. You reached for his hand, which he immediately took and squeezed as hard as he could.

“You’re okay, Wilbur,” you cooed, still rubbing his back. “It’s only gonna hurt for a bit. You’re doing so well, I promise.”

Wilbur opened his mouth to respond to you, but instead of any words coming out, a heavy gasp did instead as Schlatt found his sweet spot. His body tremored, overstimulated by this new feeling. Schlatt just laughed, fingering Wilbur just as he had done to you earlier.

“Oh my god, I’m gonna cum,” Wil cried out. The second the words came out, so did Schlatt’s fingers, leaving Wilbur panting and desperate.

“No way. Not yet,” Schlatt said, pulling him up. He spat on his hand, stroking his cock a few times with a low groan. “C’mere. You’re gonna ride me and you’re gonna fucking take all of it, got it?”

Breathing heavily, Wilbur looked at you, then back at Schlatt. “But what about–”

“You’ll see. Come here,” he commanded, pulling Wilbur onto his lap and positioning him so his back was facing his chest.

He lined himself up with his entrance, giving him the chance to lower himself onto him at his own pace. Slowly, wincing through gritted teeth, fully sitting down on Schlatt’s lap, every inch of his cock inside of him. Schlatt let out a long moan, moving his hands to hold onto Wil’s hips.

After a moment of adjusting, Wilbur slowly began to move, a melody of moans beginning to escape his lips again. You almost couldn’t sit still while you watched them, especially when Schlatt started to thrust upwards, sinking himself deep into Wilbur, making him cry out. His ass slapped loudly against Schlatt’s thighs, hardly able to keep himself up.

“Fuck,” Schlatt hissed, meeting your eyes. He must have been able to tell how the image of them fucking right in front of you fueled your arousal because he curled his finger, motioning you to come closer. You did, hardly able to contain your excitement.

Schlatt stopped moving and held Wilbur’s hips down, causing yet another whine to erupt from him. He grabbed onto his chin, forcing him to look back at him while he said, “You’re gonna fill them up while I keep pounding your tight ass. Are you both okay with that?”

“Yes–” Wilbur nodded frantically. “Oh, god, fuck– Yeah–”

You chuckled a bit, quickly moving to straddle Wilbur’s lap and lining up his dripping cock with your entrance. Because Schlatt already knew what you could handle, you were not given as much grace as Wilbur was; as soon as the head of Wil’s cock was even slightly inside of you, Schlatt thrusted into him, giving him not much of a choice but to thrust up into you as well.

You gasped at how sudden it was, holding onto Wilbur’s shoulders tightly. You thought that the few inches he had on Schlatt wouldn’t make a big difference, but it felt like quite a bit more than you were expecting it to.

Wilbur thrusted up into you wildly as he rode Schlatt, his hands wrapping around your waist, bodies tangled in a sweaty, euphoric threesome. Once you got a little more used to the feeling, you bounced on him, feeling every inch sliding in and out of you.

Pulling closer to him, you grind down on Wilbur’s cock, riding him with eager, relentless bounces. His breath comes in ragged gasps in between moans, his body caught between yours and Schlatt’s grip behind him.

Schlatt’s hands tightened around Wilbur’s hips, fingers bruising the soft flesh as he drove his cock deep into Wilbur, thrusting rough and fast. “That’s it, Wilbur. Take it. Take it like the fucking whore you are,” he growled, each word met with a harsh slam that only made Wilbur jerk forward into you more.

His cock hit your sweet spot, sending waves of pleasure through you. Moans spilled out between the two of you, blending with Schlatt’s heavy breathing and low grunts. All of it made your head spin as you moved faster, gasping, “Fuck, yes, just like that!”

Leaning forward, you crashed your lips against Wilbur’s in a deep, hungry kiss. His mouth opened eagerly against yours as both of you moaned into each other’s mouths, the kiss sloppy and urgent. “You feel so fucking good, Wilbur,” you murmured against his lips, breaking the kiss just enough to whisper encouragements. “Beg Schlatt to fuck you harder. Beg me to ride you until you can’t take it anymore. Please–”

Wilbur whimpered into your mouth, his cock twitching inside you with each of Schlatt’s thrusts. Schlatt clicked his tongue. “I don’t know if he could handle it, doll.”

“No, I can,” Wilbur breathed out. “Please. I can handle it, I swear–”

Spoiler alert, he could– but not for very long. As Schlatt’s thrusts became even more brutal, each one driving Wilbur deeper into you, the joint sensations he felt from the two of you quickly became rather overwhelming. He tried his best to stay collected, kissing you again to try to focus on something else to help him last longer (not the smartest idea, because he must’ve already forgotten how great kissing you felt, too).

“You’re taking it so well,” Schlatt grunted. “You fucking love this, don’t you?”

Wilbur pulled away, but he could only nod in response, all of his words becoming lost in a series of moans and gasps. Not long after that, you could feel his body tensing underneath you. “Shit, I think I’m gonna–”

Schlatt rolled his eyes, cutting him off. Altogether, Wilbur had lasted much longer than he thought he would, so he thought it was only fair to let him cum. Without slowing down, he said, “It’s okay. You can cum, Wilbur.”

That was all he needed to hear. Once the words came out of Schlatt’s mouth, he finally let himself go with one final cry, his body shaking as he came inside of you. The pressure of his warmth inside of you was all it took for you to finish, too, cumming shortly after Wilbur. Schlatt’s grip on Wilbur’s hips tightened, his movements becoming a bit more erratic while he chased his own climax, spilling himself deep inside of Wilbur.

The three of you collapsed in a tangle of limbs, your hearts racing as you all tried to come down from your high. Shakily, you climbed off of Wilbur, sitting on the couch as you tried to catch your breath. Once you were up, Schlatt pulled himself out of Wil, watching his cum spill out of him with a bit of a chuckle.

“We might have to do that again before Wilbur goes back home,” you panted, laughing to yourself a bit. You were mostly joking, but both boys eagerly agreed, and Schlatt even mentioned extending his stay. And none of you objected to that idea.

Chapter Text

Wilbur Soot: hey lollll i’m not too far now. should be there rlly soon :)

You and Wilbur had been sending DMs back and forth through Twitter for a while before eventually moving to Discord; you followed each other because you had some mutual friends in the streaming community. Both of you were shocked at how you hadn’t heard of each other sooner, especially after finding out you both lived in the same area, and when you became such good friends so fast, spending countless nights playing games together until the sun awoke, or until one of you accidentally fell asleep on call. There were even a few times when you met in person, either grabbing lunch or just walking around Brighton.

When Wilbur finally asked if you would want to do a stream with him sometime, you were beyond excited. It took you guys some time to figure out what you wanted to do, but after some thought, you managed to convince him to do a baking stream with you.

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Wilbur’s laugh traveled through your headset when you first suggested it. “I feel like I’d fuck it all up. I’m not any good at baking.”

You had rolled your eyes playfully, even if your camera wasn’t on and he couldn’t see it. “Oh, come on! Both of us being bad would make the stream even better. It’d be funny, don’t you think?”

Hearing the excitement in your voice as you begged him was all it took for Wilbur to ultimately agree. If it made you happy, even just for an hour or so, he figured, fuck it. Why not?

So, here we were.

Wilbur raised his hand to knock on the door to your flat before shoving his hands in his pockets. He thought about checking to make sure you got his message from a few minutes ago, but it didn’t take very long for you to answer, smiling at him after opening the door.

“Hey! I’m just finishing setting everything up,” you said as you practically dragged him inside, heading straight to the kitchen. “Well, it’s basically done, so we should be ready to go whenever.”

He chuckled a bit at your enthusiasm, glancing at your kitchen island. You weren’t kidding; you already had everything laid out: ingredients, measuring cups, mixing bowls, spoons, everything you needed to make the cupcake recipe you’d sent him a few days ago.

“I planned on helping you set up, you know,” Wilbur frowned a bit, looking at it all. “Now I feel bad. This seems like it’d be a lot.”

You shrugged a little, getting into the fridge to grab the last couple of ingredients. “What? No, it’s not a big deal. I just got impatient, I’m excited!” you chuckled. “If you really still want to help, though, you can set up the stream if you want? I’m logged in and everything, but I couldn’t really figure it out.”

Wil nodded a bit, walking over to your makeshift portable stream setup. You kept glancing over at him, watching as he adjusted the camera angle, clicked around your streaming software, and made a few quiet, focused noises to himself while he made adjustments. It felt so strange seeing him in your space like this, in person. Comfortable, though. Natural, even. Like I said before, your friendship came easily.

After a moment, Wilbur stepped back, clapping his hands together. “Alright! It looks good to me. So, whenever you’re ready, I can hit the start stream button for you, and you can do your little intro or whatever before I head over there.”

You grinned, thanking him. You gave yourself a little pep talk in your head before giving Wilbur the okay; it was your first time interacting with him publicly, after all, and he had a significantly larger following than you did. You took a deep breath, hoping to ground yourself as Wilbur started the stream for you.

-

“No, stop– We have to mix the dry ingredients first, Wil,” you laughed, taking the vanilla extract from his hands.

“Right, yeah. I can do that,” Wilbur nodded as he rolled up his sleeves. He grabbed the flour that you had already measured and dumped it into the mixing bowl with a bit too much force, causing a small cloud of it to puff up into the air.

“Wilbur!” you coughed in between giggles, waving your hand. “I said pour it, not fucking throw it.”

“That was pouring! Was it not?”

-

Eventually, you had to banish Wilbur to the other side of the kitchen. At least until you were done mixing the wet and dry ingredients together. He squinted at your chat, reading some of the messages out and thanking donors for you.

“No, chat, I don’t bake very often,” he chuckled. “This was 100% their idea. Can you tell? They are much better at this than I am.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at him. “You’d be fine at it if you weren’t being so careless.”

“Shhh, I’m talking to chat!”

“My chat, may I remind you.”

-

Very carefully, Wilbur squeezed his piping bag over a cupcake, trying his best to make it look pretty. He huffed each time he made a mistake and shook his head. “Even The Great British Bake Off makes this shit look so much easier than it is.”

You laughed, looking over at his cupcake. “It doesn’t have to be pretty. If we didn’t fuck up too much, it’s still gonna taste good.”

“I can’t taste much, actually,” he shrugged casually. “Never been able to much, really.”

You set your piping bag down, putting all of your attention on him for a moment. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, genuinely. My taste buds aren’t, like, properly there. Everything tastes the same to me,” he explained, staying focused on frosting his cupcake.

“Wilbur! Now I feel bad. If I knew you couldn’t taste anything, I wouldn’t have made you do a baking stream with me. We could’ve played Geoguesser or something–”

He laughed softly, finally glancing at you. “Don’t feel bad. This is nice. Plus, it’s fun watching you care about all of the little things so much. It’s… nice. You’re like a pro.”

Before you could say anything in response, Wil dipped a finger into one of the bowls of leftover frosting, scooping up a small swirl of it. He held it out to you. “Here. You tell me if it’s any good, yeah?”

Without thinking much of it, you leaned in, closing your lips around his finger– slow, confident, and a bit too casual for what it probably looked like on camera. You let your eyes flick up to his for just a second as you pulled away smoothly. The frosting was sweet and rich, and for a second, the kitchen went silent.

“Oh, shit,” you nodded a bit, licking what was left behind off your lips. “That one’s really good. Maybe you’re right about me being a pro.”

Wilbur’s hand hovered awkwardly midair for a moment too long, as if he’d forgotten what to do with it. Then he blinked, cleared his throat, and muttered, “Cool. Uh. Good to know.”

You didn’t really notice how his demeanor changed so fast, but oh, boy, your chat definitely did. It became absolutely flooded with messages, freaking out over the interaction, many along the lines of: ‘HELLO???’ ‘WAIT WHAT JUST HAPPENED’ and ‘HE’S SO RED NOW OMG’.

Wil bit his lip, hyperfocusing on his piping bag. He definitely didn’t expect you to take his finger into your mouth like that. He figured you would just use your own finger to swipe the frosting from his. Now, he was stuck with the image of you looking up at him, oh so innocently, with his digit in your mouth on a constant loop. He kept quiet, trying not to think about it, until you asked if he was alright.

“You good?” you asked with a bit of an awkward chuckle, watching him decorate his cupcake with the utmost of focus.

“Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. I’m good,” he nodded, forcing a smile. “Just, uh… focusing on my art here. Do we have any sprinkles or something?”

-

Even when you went to end the stream, Wilbur still wouldn’t quite meet your eyes. He grabbed his phone from his back pocket, letting out a loud, over-dramatic wince. “Well, this was fun, but wow, would you look at the time– I'd better get going.”

He was already halfway across the kitchen, aiming for the door. You stepped in front of him before he could pass you, planting yourself in the middle of him and his dramatic escape.

“Dude,” you laughed, crossing your arms. “Seriously, what is up with you? You got all weird on me while we were decorating. I was dying out there.”

Wilbur blinked, biting the inside of his cheek. He looked at you for the first time in what felt like forever, then immediately looked past you again. Anywhere but your face. “What? No, I wasn’t weird. I was just… concentrating. I told you that. Frosting cupcakes is really hard work, apparently.”

“You are so full of shit. Don’t lie to me.” You frowned, “Did I say something weird? Did chat say something weird? I don’t understand–”

He shook his head, sighing as he ran a hand through his hair. “No– No, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Okay, great! Then what happened?”

The room went quiet while Wilbur stared at the ceiling, not saying anything for a moment. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other as he let out a deep breath. “Okay, fine,” he muttered. “You just– kind of caught me off guard, alright?”

“I caught you off guard?” you repeated, confused. “How?”

“Look, it’s nothing. You didn’t do anything–”

“No, Wil, you quite literally just said that I did. What did I do?”

Wilbur opened his mouth, then paused. He finally looked at you, for real this time, and the heat rose to his cheeks. It seemed like he was internally battling with himself on whether to tell you the truth or not. He definitely didn’t want to; that was for sure. He wasn’t sure how you would take it. How do you casually tell your new best friend that you thought that was hot? But he saw how upset you looked, really having no idea as to what you could have possibly done, and he felt bad.

He groaned, finally confessing, “It was the whole frosting thing. When I held out my finger and you, uh… didn’t just swipe it or whatever. You… Well, you know what you did. I didn’t really expect it. I thought you’d, like, dab it off or make some dumb joke. But then you were looking at me and–” he got red and stopped himself. “I just wasn’t ready for that, okay?”

You tilted your head, taking a step closer to him. “I don’t get it. It was just frosting.”

Wilbur huffed, not quite a laugh, but something similar to it. “Yeah, okay. Sure. Just frosting.”

His response made you pause, watching him for a moment as you tried to read him. And then it finally hit you. Your face shifted slowly: first confusion, then understanding, and lastly, amusement.

You grinned a bit. “Wait. You got all weird because you thought it was hot?”

He opened his mouth to deny it, but of course, nothing came out. But when the only thing he could do was let his face get redder, you knew you had cracked the case.

“Huh. It was kind of hot, wasn’t it?” you chuckled, mostly to yourself. Again, he said nothing. You reached over for the frosting bowl again, holding it up. “You don’t want me to do it again, do you?”

Wilbur’s head snapped to look at you. “You’re joking.”

Shrugging, you dipped your finger in the frosting, holding it up to your mouth. “Do I look like I’m joking?” you asked, licking the frosting from your own hand.

He watched you, letting out a shaky breath as you licked your finger clean. Suddenly, the kitchen felt quiet. Too quiet. No stream. No distractions. Just the hum of the fridge and the sound of Wilbur trying to pretend that his brain didn’t just short-circuit.

“I mean… unless you do really want to go home. That’s fine,” you shrugged again, biting your lip.

The words hung in the air like bait. Wilbur didn’t take it. Not yet.

The two of you had never really acted like this with each other before. Flirting wasn’t something you’d ever done. Not intentionally, anyway. You joked. You bantered. You sent each other shitty TikToks and bounced random content ideas off of each other.

But this? This wasn’t a joke.

For a second, Wilbur considered the possibility that maybe he was just dreaming. As much as he’d hate to admit it, there was a time or two when he dreamt of you like this, waking up in sticky boxers and a pile of sweat. This, however, felt way too real.

You didn’t blink. You didn’t laugh. You just watched him, waiting to see what he’d do.

Wilbur pretended to look at the clock before he finally broke the silence, speaking quieter than he had all night: “I guess I could stay for a bit longer.”

You tried to hide your smile as he stepped closer to you. While you stood there, holding the frosting bowl, you could see the conflict in Wilbur’s eyes. You decided to take initiative, gently taking his hand and guiding his finger into the frosting, making sure it was completely covered.

Looking up at him, you slowly brought his hand up to your mouth, parting your lips and taking his finger inside. This time, everything was intentional; you sucked gently, swirling your tongue around. As you held onto his wrist, you could feel his pulse quicken, his breath hitching slightly as you worked on teasing him.

His cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red, watching you with wide eyes. He tried to stay cool, but the way his body reacted was undeniable. You weren’t certain, but you were pretty sure his jeans weren’t always hugging his dick that tightly.

After getting all of the frosting off, you released his finger with a soft pop, a small smirk on your face. “This is actually kind of fun,” you chuckled before reaching for another finger, repeating the process again, this time taking your time to savor the sweetness and the taste of his skin.

Wilbur’s breathing grew shallower, using his free hand to lean against the counter for support. He was lost in the sensation of your tongue and lips working their magic, his mind racing with thoughts of what might come next until he was practically trembling with need.

Again, you released his finger when you were done with it. This time, though, instead of doing it again, you took his hand and placed it gently on your cheek, guiding his fingers to your lips. You parted them slightly, inviting him in.

He hesitated for a moment, but with a shaky breath, he began to move his fingers, slowly at first, then with increasing confidence. He explored your mouth, his fingertips tracing the outlines of your lips, teeth, and tongue. You gladly welcomed him, your tongue swirling around his fingers yet again as he practically fucked your mouth with them.

You took him deep, your eyes watering as you gagged around him. You moaned softly, the sound vibrating around his fingers, sending a shiver down Wilbur’s spine. His fingers stilled for a moment, but you encouraged him to keep going, your hands on his wrist to guide him. He kept moving them in and out of your mouth, his pace quickening. His hips bucked slightly at nothing as he lost himself in the sensation.

Eventually, he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting them for a moment. You looked up at him, trying to catch your breath with glossy lips and watery eyes. “Shit,” you breathed out, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Both of you stared at each other briefly, chests heaving. You knew that you probably should’ve stopped there– you were just friends, after all– but the tension hung tauntingly in the air between you. You simply couldn’t help yourself.

You grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him flush against you as your lips crashed against his with a fierce intensity. He kissed you back without any hesitation, the light feeling of frosting still lingering on your lips. You could feel his erection against your thigh when he pulled you closer (if that was even possible at this point), wrapping his arms around you.

Your tongues danced together, fighting to explore the other one’s mouth. The room was filled with the sounds of your ragged breaths, along with the wet noises of your kiss.

Wilbur’s hands eventually ended on your waist. He didn’t break the kiss as he lifted you up onto the kitchen island, sitting you next to all of the baking supplies. It was quite literally the perfect height. And to think that this all started because of an innocent baking stream…

He stood in between your legs, eventually breaking away from the kiss. His breath came in short gasps as he looked into your eyes. “I want you,” he whispered against your lips. “I want you so fucking badly.”

The words alone sent chills down your spine. “Fuck, Wil– I want you too,” you murmured.

You wrapped your legs around Wilbur’s waist, pulling him against you. Feeling how hard he was against you actually drove you crazy. You reached down, your hands finding the button of his jeans, quickly working to free him. While you did that, he pulled his shirt over his head, and when you were done, he quickly removed your clothes as well.

Wilbur wasted no time. He gently pushed you down so that your back lay on the marble of the island’s countertop. His hands traveled your body, stopping at your legs to hold them up, putting your entrance on display for him. You lifted your head up to watch him, the anticipation eating you alive.

He lined himself up before slowly pushing into you, letting out a long groan as he filled you completely. You winced at the way his cock stretched you open. He gave you a moment to adjust before he began to move, slowly at first, but not for long. His hips soon thrusted in a rhythm that was both fast-paced and rough. The sound of your skin slapping together quickly filled the room, as did the sounds of both of your moans.

He moved faster, slamming into you harder and deeper as if he couldn’t get enough of you. You could feel your orgasm building, but said nothing as you tried to hold back, not wanting this to end so quickly, wanting to savor every moment.

“Shit!” you gasped as Wilbur managed to find your sweet spot. “Oh my god, Wilbur, right there– Don’t stop– Please–”

Nodding quickly, he tried his best to keep doing exactly what he was doing, though his thrusts soon became sloppier as he began to reach his own climax. The two of you somehow managed to cum around the exact same time (Wilbur shortly after you, though, giving him enough time to pull out and spill out onto your stomach, decorating you that looked similar to the way he had poorly frosted his cupcake).

Both of Wilbur’s hands gripped the island, trying to hold himself up while he panted, trying to collect himself. You were in a similar boat; you could feel the aftershock of your orgasm, the way your body still trembled, and the way your heart raced in your chest. You took deep breaths as you lay there, your back sticking to the island with sweat, the same way some of Wilbur’s hair stuck to his forehead.

After a while, Wil was able to walk over to the paper towels you’d gotten out earlier, grabbing one to use to carefully wipe his cum off of you. You watched him as he did, biting your lip, a small smile appearing on your face. “You know, we should bake together more often.”

He looked up at you with a mixture of amusement and awe in his eyes. He chuckled, shaking his head a bit. “You think so?”

You sat up once your stomach had been wiped off, wrapping your arms around Wilbur’s neck. “Absolutely,” you said, planting a small kiss on his cheek before hiding your face in the crook of his neck.

He couldn’t help but smile, rubbing circles on your back as he wrapped his arms around you as well. He looked around at the mess you two had made in your kitchen between the baking and the sex. At the moment, though, neither of you cared. It could wait for now.