“People were shitty,” she says quietly. “Are shitty, I’m guessing. They’re calling me what…a freak?” She frowns. “Luna the Tentacle Smut Lover?” “That’s what I call myself.” She smiles over at me. “You love tentacle smut?” I suck on my cigarette, nodding. Blowing smoke at the ceiling, I say, “It’s a favorite. I love yours.” Flush creeps up her neck, but she’s interlacing her fingers with mine and turning more towards me on the bed. “I can’t believe she let you read our smut.” Her smile widens. “I kinda love her for it.” “Ditto.”
