#and therefore daydream about her

[astralnymphh]

I'm not sure if this would be an unusual request, but do you think Ellie would kiss reader if they were playing fortnite?-〽️

apologies for the late reply, but yeah, she would. modern!ellie would literally play fortnite religiously and ritualistically in her free time, so no doubt that entails the constant barging into your messages begging you to come over and play fortnite. such a contradicting dork, cause meanwhile she's reminding you to focus and not crash the fucking jeep, (ellie would distract me tbh.. can't eradicate the opps if there's a pretty auburnhead with willow green eyes and a honeyed voice next to me.. btw passenger princess ellie is canon here) in the same breath she's also the reason why you might crash the fucking jeep to begin with. leaning on you, lips never gone from your neck, tangling her legs with yours—usual lover shenanigans. it's only because she's battling the impulse to be silly on fortnite and the impulse to be silly with her girlfriend at the same time. bonus points if you're squadding with two other people in a lobby (jesse definitely being one of them.. ellie got him on that fortnite brainrot) and she has to mute the call/voice chat to get some corny romance pun in and kiss you. for good luck, of course. “can i get a kiss? for good luck? i won't rush into battle with no shield and a grey pistol again—pinky promise it'll work.” claims it gives her good luck every damn time. does it work? obviously not. now she doesn't believe in it! (it's because she kept rushing into battle anyway. bloodthirsty!fortniteplayer!ellie realness)

[dunmesh]

this panel from the world guide of falin being surrounded by other girls while laios is all alone kills me because. that's it. that's the key difference in their journeys.

as laios states himself, he left the village in order to create a home for him and falin elsewhere. a home that won't collapse due to others' hatred and fears like their old home did, a home where they are loved and accepted unconditionally. but as he soon found out, even before earning money, or having walls surrounding him and a roof above his head- what he so earnestly desired was to meet other people who will accept him for who he is as well. instead, he kept being tormented by those around him, shunned and sneered at. his loneliness quickly became all-consuming until he truly had nothing left except for the monsters in the pages of his book, but even that became a target of mockery and destroyed. that's why ever since the day he left the village, he never felt that he truly made the right choice. so he kept running away: unable to resist and unable to accpet.

and an ocean away from him there was his sister, who never managed to fully fit in herself. but unlike him, she met a person who became a home to her and learned what a true friendship was for the first time in her life. and laios clearly realizes that too when he finally sees falin and marcille together, he can tell his sister obtained the greatest treasure there is on her own- the exact thing he never managed to find anywhere himself, thus coming back empty-handed to the sister he left the village for.

but when you read this part of the manga, laios's focus is on falin's loneliness, not his own. he talks about how it hurts thinking about all those moments she had to spend alone because he wasn't there for her, so it almost sounds like he's the one who couldn't bear her suffering and therefore decided to not let her go again. but we do get a glimpse of their first meeting after that almost-decade long separation in the manga, and then we see more of that in the world guide and daydream hour- and it becomes abundantly clear that it was falin who was trying to protect and save him from this pit of loneliness and depression he was in.

so instead of just doing his best to atone for leaving her behind in the village and making sure she is never lonely again, it might also be that laios was desperately clinging to the one person in the world he felt that accepted and loved him unconditionally. those words he used to describe his motivation to stay by falin's side are the exact words she would've used as well; she couldn't bear leaving him behind in this state. in a sense, they were each other's shackles.

but then she did. she died for him and their friends, and ironically enough, it was by leaving him alone like this that he was finally able to stand on his own and put his full trust in others. to have the courage to reveal who he is and give others the opportunity to accept him after such a long time of hiding. it was a long journey, but his hiding finally came to an end when he faced the others after shedding his monster form. and i love that the person who was falin's "home" all those years away from laios, marcille, became just as meaningful to him during their time separated from falin- the first one to find him and show him that he isn't alone anymore. just as he did for her.

so at the end of the story when falin talks about all the places she would like to go, it's not just that she wants to pursue her own dreams- but that she actually feels free to do so and go anywhere she desires. and one of the main reasons for that is that her brother finally found new people he wants to be with; his own home.

[rafey-baby]

vampire!rafe doesn’t want to hurt neighbor!reader but he’s just so hungry and she just smells so good...

c/w: blood, vampire!rafe feeding on her w out permission, slightly suggestive, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.9k

happy halloween & kinktober to all who celebrate xx

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

To put it plainly, there has always been something off about her neighbor; a peculiarity in the air surrounding him and an eccentricity in his outlandish aura. She thinks she could count all of their conversations (consisting of a few sparse sentences) with one hand, even though he’s lived in the apartment next to her for almost a year now.   

She remembers their first encounter as clear as day. She’d chirped a friendly ‘Hi! Do you need any help?’ when she’d noticed an unfamiliar presence carrying heavy boxes, even if he made it seem like they were filled with fluffy feathers with how easily he was lifting them with those beefy arms of his.

However, in response, he’d merely halted his movements and stared down at her as if she was some sort of a folkloric monster before muttering out a cold ‘Uh, no thanks’ followed by him slamming his door closed with the back of his foot.   

After that, their interactions haven’t been anything more than awkward nods of acknowledgment in the elevator or her accidentally bumping into him in the hallways, which was more often than not her fault, with how often she got lost in her daydreams and forgot about the world around her. Each time, he’d mutter out a displeased ‘Watch where you’re going, yeah?’ while taking a notable step back for good measure.   

Despite his apparent distaste for her though, she couldn’t help but find his brooding eyes and grumpy demeanor sort of alluring. And it didn’t help that he was quite easy on the eyes as well. However, since he seemed to hate her guts (the reason unclear to her) she tried to stay out of his way the best she could, not wanting to bother him anymore than she apparently already did by simply existing.   

Therefore, she hesitates a few times before knocking on Rafe’s door to inquire if he’d happen to have any gauze or even bandages. At this point, she’ll take anything because the cut on the skin between her thumb and index finger seems to be deeper than she originally thought; warm maroon dripping down her wrist since the paper towels she’s pressing against the wound aren’t being very helpful.   

She’s not entirely sure how it happened. One second, she was contently humming to the music playing from her earphones and cutting up some sweet potatoes to turn into fries in the oven, and the next, she’s bleeding onto her cutting board. And if that wasn’t bad enough, turns out she doesn’t even own a first-aid kit.   

Normally, she’d ask the kind, elderly woman living behind her other wall for help since she’s always so lovely to her; bringing her hand-baked pies and gracing her with the warmest greetings whenever they cross paths. However, it’s rather late and she doesn’t want to wake her incase she’s already in bed.   

Therefore, her only option is her other neighbor since she doesn’t even know the names of the other people living in the same apartment complex.   

She stands on top of his doormat for a few moments, fleetingly wondering if he’s even home, before the door cracks open and all of a sudden, she’s blinking up at Rafe’s tall frame.  

“Hi, I’m so sorry to bother you. I know it’s late and all but um, was wondering if you had anything to…patch this up with?” she lifts up her wounded hand in emphasis as she stumbles over her words.   

The glimmering sapphires of his eyes slightly widen at the sight of the tissue soaked through in vermilion as he simply stares. His gaze is awfully similar to their first encounter �� like she’s just killed his cat — before seemingly snapping out of the haze he’d lost himself; clearing his throat as if there’s some sort of an itch there.   

“Yeah, uh, come in,” he ushers her in with a tense smile; like he’d rather be doing anything other than inviting her into his home.  

“Gonna see if I can, uh, find something for that…you can wait in the kitchen, yeah?” he says before disappearing into the bathroom.   

And he’s always made her rather nervous, however, right now she feels like a little kitten who’s just stepped into a lion’s den as she wanders over to what she assumes is the kitchen. Fleetingly, she wonders if he prefers to order in or eat out since the countertops and cupboards appear far too clean and empty to be used regularly. As she takes a closer look, even the stove and the oven look brand new; like they’ve never been used before.   

“Wasn’t aware my kitchen was that interesting.”   

She flinches when he’s suddenly behind her. And what he said sounded like a joke, however, when she spins on her heel to face him; his expression is as serious as a statue.   

“Sorry, I just…um, nothing, sorry,” she shakes her head to rid herself of the eerie feeling trickling down her spine; her vivid imagination getting the best of her, as always. He’s probably just a clean freak.   

“Sit,” he gestures towards the chair he’s pulled out for her before she hesitantly obeys; a strange ambience following him when he crouches down in front of her in order to take her hand in between his larger ones.   

“How did this even happen?” he flits his eyes over to hers and she could swear there’s something obscure swimming in the watery ponds, almost like a deep craving for something.   

“Oh, I was just making dinner and…got distracted while holding the knife, I guess,” she explains, embarrassed now that she has to recall the moments before disaster.   

“Clumsy girl,” he scolds her. “Should be more careful, you know?”  

“I know, sorry,” she peeps out.   

“Don’t need to apologize. Mistakes happen, yeah?” he reassures her with an uncharacteristically tender tone that confuses her to no end but before she has the chance to question it, he’s slowly breathing in through his nose; eyes fluttering shut along with his exhale as if trying to calm himself down.   

She blinks, disconcerted. “You, um, you okay?”  

“Yeah, yeah. Jus’ had a...long day,” he mutters out before swallowing.   

“Right…” she drifts off when he peels away the saturated tissue to properly inspect the injury.   

In the process, some of the maroon trickles down to stain his fingers and at that, she notices his entire form tense as he halts his movements; tongue peeking out to wet his bottom lip.  

“You sure you’re fine? Do you get like squeamish around blood or? Can do it myself if it makes you uncomfortable,” she suggests cluelessly, not comprehending why his behavior is suddenly even more unsettling than before.   

A dry chuckle tumbles from his throat in response because he’s practically doing everything in his power not to drain her of every last blood cell and she’s concerned for his comfort. What an adorable little thing.   

However, his laughter doesn’t last very long since he can hear the blood flowing in her veins; smell the sweetness of it on her palm and at the end of the day, he only has so much self-control.  

“Nah, I just…” his gaze sticks like glue to the scarlet droplets on his thumb, seemingly contemplating something. Then, to her utmost surprise, he’s bringing it up to his mouth and tucking it past his lips; a low groan rumbling from his throat when her taste melts on his tongue.  

“What are you—” her eyes widen in shock and before she can comprehend what’s happening, he’s bringing her hand closer to his mouth and sinking sharp teeth into the skin of her palm; a guttural moan following his actions.   

And it all happens so quickly, her brain only registering the throbbing pain that follows.   

“Ow, what the hell?” her voice is alarmed as she tries to yank her arm back, unfortunately to no avail since he’s much stronger and doesn’t even notice she’s trying to move; entirely too consumed by the sweet nectar she’s involuntarily providing him with.   

His bite stings; makes her gasp for breath to tolerate the dreadful ache before it turns into something else entirely, something akin to pleasure. Her brows furrow as she tries to grasp onto the nearly obscene sight before her; his eyes flickering shut as he contently hums and grunts around the flesh between his teeth.  

“Shit, why do you taste so good? What the fuck do you eat, huh?” his question is muffled around the wound he’s feasting on; his noises of gratification sending a foreign spark to stir in her guts as they echo around the otherwise quiet apartment.   

“I don’t�� I don’t know?” her fuzzy brain is having a hard time understanding what she’s supposed to do in this entirely too strange of a situation. At this point, it feels more like a fever dream than reality.  

“Can’t fucking stop. Shit, I’m sorry, haven’t had a proper meal in ages,” he rasps out as he resumes greedily satiating his sweet tooth with heady moans escaping his tongue.  

“I feel— feel kinda dizzy can you—” she mumbles; vision growing misty as the room begins to spin.   

However, he doesn’t seem to hear her; too lost in satiating his most primal urges as he nuzzles his face even more into her palm.   

“I don’t know if I....” she doesn’t have the strength to finish her sentence before her heavy lids drop closed and she feels her limbs turn lax; thoughts evaporating into thin air when she loses consciousness.   

The last thing her soupy brain picks up is him cursing under his breath before catching her limp body in a steady hold.   

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

All-consuming fatigue causes her eyelids to feel as heavy as the washing machine she had to carry to her apartment when she moved in as she blinks her eyes open; desperately trying to piece together where she is and what the hell happened.   

“Good, good, you’re awake,” an all too familiar drawl forces the memories to overwhelm her mind as she tries to sit up on the couch with softened bones and weakened limbs.   

She can still feel the pain of his sharp teeth piercing through the skin of her palm as she looks down at the piece of gauze wrapped securely around her throbbing left hand.  

“Shit, let me help,” she registers Rafe’s voice before his strong arms are maneuvering her into a seated position; steadying her.   

“There you go,” he rasps out before shoving a frigid glass filled with water into her frail hands. However, when she’s unable to properly hold onto it, he lets out a sigh and brings it closer to the seam of her lips himself.   

“Drink,” he orders with a hint of exasperation; tipping the cup and forcing her to gulp down large amounts of the fresh liquid. And she drinks greedily, not even aware she was this thirsty. All too soon though, he decides she’s had enough and draws the magical elixir away.   

And she’s about to ask for more when the reason why she fainted in the first place finally registers in her puzzled brain.  

“What the hell? Why would you— I thought…are you— you’re a vampire?” she stumbles over her words; the realization feeling surreal as she rapidly blinks up at him.  

“I thought— I thought that was a myth? Vampires exist?” her face scrunches up in mayhem as she examines him from head to toe. However, no clear signs of him being a supernatural creature catch her eye; even the maroon she remembers staining the sides of his mouth has been wiped away.   

“Uh, yeah, it’s a…long story,” he scratches at the back of his head. “But I need you to—”   

“Wait. You didn’t turn me into a vampire, did you?” she frantically asks, tongue subtly trying to inspect whether she has grown fangs over the course of her nap or not.   

“Calm down, it doesn’t work like that, I’d have to—”  

“Oh, can you compel me to forget about this like in the Vampire Diaries?” she cuts him off with rounded eyes.  

“In the what?” his gemstone-eyes are perplexed when he opens a packet of what appears to be oatmeal raisin cookies.  

“It’s such a good show, you haven’t seen it?” she gets momentarily sidetracked.   

“Stop asking stupid questions and eat,” he orders and offers the treat to her as if she’s some kind of a dog; a crease forming between his brows when she refuses to open her mouth.   

“Why aren’t you eating it?” he nearly glares at her, as if she’s a major inconvenience that he wishes would just disappear so he could continue on with whatever it is that vampires do.  

“I hate raisins,” she complains with her face crumpling up in aversion.   

“Don’t really care. Just eat it, shit, do you not wanna feel better?” he grumbles out when she pulls her face away from the delicacy.   

“Well, I wouldn’t need to feel better in the first place if you hadn’t drank like half of the blood in my body,” her tone is displeased, making him roll his eyes.   

“It wasn’t even that much. You’re fine, alright? Just eat this and you’ll feel better, yeah?” he breaks off some of the baked good; hovering it in front of her lips while looking at her expectantly.  

And for a moment, he thinks she’s not going to comply, but then she lets out a weary sigh; reluctantly opening her mouth. Immediately, he pushes the piece in while examining her carefully as if to make sure she’s actually swallowing before feeding her more.   

When she’s finished chewing two more cookies, he finally seems at least somewhat content with her cooperation and rewards her with more water that she eagerly sips on. He fills the cup to the brim once more and she’s actually able to hold it this time around; feeling some of her strength returning. She hates to admit that he was right.   

“How do you feel?” he then murmurs, a faint hue of concern painting over the question as he takes a sip from his own mug. And from the potent, metallic odor she can tell it’s not water.   

“Um…like my neighbor just drained me out of my blood without so much as a warning,” she places the now empty glass on the coffee table and flickers her accusatory eyes over to him.  

He scoffs before walking over to her. “And I apologize for that, alright? But what do you expect me to do when you’re practically shoving your bleeding hand in my face?”  

“So, it’s my fault now? Damn, sorry for not knowing you were a fucking vampire,” she huffs out; not caring that she’s poking the sleeping bear, even if he could quite literally eat her for lunch.   

At that, he lets out a deep sigh; running his fingers through his hair in frustration. “That’s not what I meant, okay? Just can’t fucking…think straight when you smell like that.”   

“Like what?” she sounds almost offended for a second.   

“I dunno, like…like real fucking appetizing.”  

Oh.  

“Right…well— since I feel great now, think I’m just gonna go,” her attempt at standing on her feet fails miserably when she stumbles on wobbly feet. She’s about to topple over to the floor before Rafe’s big arms are steadying her with his hands on her waist.  

“Careful now. Told you, you need more rest, okay?”   

“Think I can rest just fine in my own apartment...” she trails off when she notices he’s not even paying attention to her words anymore, instead his gaze is now fixed on her neck due to their close proximity; eyes starving and teeth digging into his bottom lip to seemingly contain himself.  

“You’re still hungry?” she squeaks out with wide eyes when his fingers dent the skin of her waist as he tightens his grip on her.   

“M’always hungry,” he rasps out, before clearing his throat.   

And she silently curses her caring nature for the fact that she almost feels bad for him. Doesn’t want him to suffer but doesn’t want him to drink her dry either.   

“What do you, um, usually eat?” she asks.  

“Uh, mostly blood bags I steal from hospitals. And, well, humans, but been tryna cut down on that cause it’s not…nice. But blood from a plastic bag s’just not the same as fresh from the vein, you know? Doesn’t really, uh, satisfy the cravings...makes me want more,” he explains with a heady tone.    

“Oh, um…you still wanna drink a little from me?” she has no idea why she’s offering more of her blood to him when she already feels so weak; blames it on those eyes that are near hypnotic when they seem so hopeless for some semblance of relief.   

“Don’t say that shit, already took way too much from you,” he mutters lowly. However, with his eyes still glued to the skin of her neck, he leans closer; letting out a vulgar groan when he inhales. “Don’t know how you’re affecting me so much, usually can control myself better around humans.”  

She shivers when she can feel the tip of his nose grazing against her jugular vein.  

“If I just have a little bit…” and then his soft lips are tickling her skin and making her let out a tiny whimper— something innately erotic about his desperation for her.   

All too soon though, he’s shoving her away from him and forcing her to take ahold of the arm of the couch in order to not lose her balance.   

“No, no, I can’t,” his hands turn into fists. “Need you to leave, now,” he’s nearly panting along with his face wrinkled up in frustration as he practically drags her out the front door; slamming it shut behind her.   

And she can’t do anything expect stand there and blink.   

What on earth just happened? 

[mackiebeth]

so high school

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: Growing up, you could never understand how people your age were so romantically interested in other people. You begin to understand for the first time, however, when you encounter a certain Sokovian during your first semester of university.

Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, college!au, friends (?) to lovers, college au, making out, slight angst (but not really)

Word Count: 4.0k

Author's Note: everyone say thank you taylor swift for the spontaneous new fic! also this is lightly proofread, so edits might be made later oops

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

Growing up, you never truly dated anyone. Sure, you had crushes on fictional characters in the media you consumed, and you allotted arguably too much time to admiring celebrities online; but, you never saw anyone in your personal life in such a light. At various hangouts and sleepovers over the years, you noticed just how much your friends discussed their love lives. Hushed whispers and sighs of the same phrase, “I really like them,” flooded your ears in the hallways at school. You had originally tried to join in on the conversations, not wanting to be excluded, but you simply couldn't engage in them wholeheartedly; eventually, the inability to relate began to upset you. You naturally boiled it down to something that must have been wrong with you — how could it possibly be normal to be like this when everyone else around you seemed to share these romantic sentiments?

Thankfully, you became completely preoccupied, both mentally and physically, by the prospect of university. By the time your junior year of high school had started, your love life — or lack thereof — no longer held too much importance to you. Instead of keeping whimsical love letters on your desk like others your age did, you opted to pile various books. From Camus to Aristotle, you discovered a deep fascination and affinity to the field of philosophy and the metaphysical discussions it posed. Therefore, when your senior year had arrived, you threw yourself head first into your studies, determined to build up your application in order to get into a top university.

After accepting your offer into one of the best philosophy programs in the nation, you anticipated your time at university, daydreaming about all of the things you would study and all of the people you would meet there.

But never could you have anticipated someone like Wanda Maximoff.

You had met her during one of your introductory courses in your first semester. Wanda was the type of person that, upon first glance, you would be scared. Not just because she was undeniably pretty, but she also had this stone cold exterior to her. Her lips were permanently etched into a slight frown, and she never really showed too much expression while she spoke during class. To put it simply, she intimidated you; so, you settled on admiring the brunette from afar (two seats up, one to the left — if you were to be specific).

Your plans changed, however, after the two of you got assigned to be partners for a class project. It was just a presentation, but it required you both to meet outside of class to work on it. You would be a liar if you said your heart didn't skip a beat at the thought of seeing Wanda outside of these four walls of your classroom, even if it was just to work on this assignment.

Seemingly unbothered by it all, she gave you her number for you to set up a date and time to meet. Her messages were all business, but they still made you feel like a dopey teenager every time her name showed up on your screen.

The day quickly came for you both to work on the presentation. Ultimately, you had settled on the two of you meeting in your dorm, which you made sure to deep clean before she came. You were not necessarily messy by any means, but the idea of Wanda, the most daunting person you could imagine, stepping into the safe space of your room made your blood run cold for some reason.

As Wanda knocked on your door, you rushed to open it. The two of you stood face to face for a moment, divided only by the doorframe. She still had her typical frown, but you noticed it shift into the slight uptick of a smirk. After a moment had passed, she finally broke the silence. "Are you gonna let me in, or...?" she asked, teasing you and your awkward nature.

Your cheeks flushed in embarrassment as you stepped aside for her to enter, "Oh, right... Sorry."

You led her to your side of the room, where she stood for a moment analyzing all of your possessions. You felt small as she did so, like a tiny insect under a bright, unsettling microscope.

She suddenly turned to face you, dropping her bag on the floor, "So, are we gonna work on this or not?"

That is how you found yourself on the floor, her laying on her back and you on your stomach. You had your computer in front of you, typing furiously as she provided you the words and ideas. You glanced over at her every now and then, especially if she was being awfully silent.

Most times, she would just be looking up at the ceiling in thought, her brown hair sprawled in random patterns underneath her; however, after a particularly long bought of silence, you looked over at her to find her gaze directly on you. You quickly returned your eyes to the screen of your computer and began typing whatever came to your mind. You hoped she did not notice the blush rise to your face.

She did.

She sighed, turning her body to lay completely facing you. "You're very quiet, you know," she stated, closely observing your reactions highlighted by the light of your screen.

Unsure of how to respond, you simply say, "So I've been told."

"Oh," she exclaimed, her smirk from earlier returns. "She has jokes."

You hum in agreement, "Just a few, unfortunately."

With the project now finished, the two of you abandoned it in favor of simply talking to each other. Never would you have guessed that Wanda could be this... warm. Unlike what you had witnessed in the classroom, she was very friendly and sarcastic in the privacy of your dorm.

You discovered a lot of information about the brunette during this conversation, such as how she loved coffee but only if its iced, how she never loved texting (preferring to call or talk in-person) but will do so if she must, how she immigrated with her twin brother from Sokovia when they were children. As she recounted her memories from Sokovia, you could hear the accent she once had poking through the surface; although, you did not point it out, afraid it was an insecurity of hers. Maybe you would tell her another time how nice it sounded, but for now, you bonded with her about collecting CDs and vinyl records from various artists.

While the two of you casually spoke, all you could think about was her — how pretty she was under the dimmed lighting of your dorm, how every joke she told was the epitome of humor, how much you wanted to stay in this moment with her. She was perfect.

Is this what people were talking about in high school?

As the night came to an inevitable end, you found yourself feeling quite sad, for you no longer had an excuse to hang out with Wanda. Though she had her number, you did not have the confidence to use it and ask if she wanted to meet up again.

You did not have to worry too much about it. As she packed her belongings back into her bag, swinging it over her shoulder, she spoke, "You know, you're pretty cool, Y/N."

You tried to hide the shock caused by her words, "Thank you, I think?"

She chuckled lowly, "My friends are having this thing at my place this weekend, if you wanted to join?"

Your head perked up, eyes blinking rapidly in shock. Unable to deny her offer, you nodded, "Yeah, sure... okay."

“Great,” she replied, walking toward your door. You followed behind her and reached around to open for her. She smiled at the gesture before speaking again, “I’ll text you later with the details and everything. See you in class.”

“Yeah, see you,” you returned. As you closed door behind her, you feel your mind finally catch up to reality: you, the stereotype of a nerd with very few friends, are going to hang out with Wanda and her friends.

You close your eyes, leaning your head onto the back of the door. “Oh, shit,” you whisper aloud into the open air. What have you just gotten yourself into?

Decoding your own thoughts and feelings about the Sokovian in the days leading up to your next class had revealed just how infatuated you had become; yet, you didn't even know how to act upon them. For years, you had only observed romantic behaviors from the outside looking in, whether it be through your friends' dating experiences or the words on a page from whichever sapphic novel you had picked to read. Now that you finally found yourself in the loop, what were you supposed to do?

Should you message her about whatever? No, that would come across as needy and overbearing.

What if you found her after class and ask to hang out again? No, that's even more overbearing than the text message.

The internal war waged on, resulting in your mind and body being paralyzed out of anxiety. For now, you have settled on simply waiting for her message regarding this weekend and presenting your assignment with her this week during class.

Days later, you walked into the class, practically shaking from your nerves about the presentation and the girl that you had to present with (who had just so happened to become your first teenage crush over the span of weeks).

You sat down in your unofficially assigned seat. Being so focused on the way your leg bounced repeatedly, you failed to notice the familiar brunette enter the classroom. Instead of sitting in her typical seat, however, she dropped her bag on the floor by the seat directly next to you.

Wanda instantly noted your nervous demeanor. While she had her own anxieties regarding the presentation and such, hers remained within her mind. She never showed such things outwardly, unless she was with someone with who she felt undeniably comfortable expressing those thoughts.

She slid into the seat and reached over to place her hand on your bouncing leg. Immediately, you noticed the feeling of someone's hand, breaking the chain of your anxious thoughts; upon glancing to your side, you discovered the culprit: Wanda.

"Hey," she started. "Everything is going to be fine, I promise."

Unable to find the words currently, you opted to remain silent, but you provide her with a uncertain nod in return. With a squeeze of her hand as a final attempt at reassurance, she placed her hand back within her lap and waited for the class to begin.

As always, Wanda was right. Your presentation went well; there were a few instances of stumbling words on your part, but otherwise it went great.

When the two of you returned to your seats, she leaned over and muttered under her breath for you to hear, "Told you so."

As you began to do your typical nighttime routine that evening, you heard your phone go off. Unsuspecting to who it was, you tapped on the screen under the assumption that it was just another email added to your overflowing inbox. You were wrong yet again.

Wanda: hey y/n !! are you still able to make it to the thing this weekend?? its gonna be on saturday at my place... lmk !!

You stared at the message for a moment before confirming you would still be in attendance, of course. Was it normal for your heart rate to speed up this much from mere words on a screen?

Saturday night rolled around quicker than you had anticipated. It was almost time to leave, yet you were currently standing still in your pajamas, surrounded by the miscellaneous clothing items you had thrown around. Ultimately, you had settled on the outfit you had first chosen, resulting in a bunch of unnecessary cleaning afterwards.

When you arrived to her place, you promptly knocked on the door. A moment passed before the door creaked open to reveal the Sokovian. Her outfit was considerably more casual than others you had seen her wear around campus. She stood in front of you, adorned with an oversized band tee and jeans; her fingers were still littered with her usual assortment of rings. However, the thing that surprised you the most was her lack of makeup. Not that she needed it, of course; in fact, it was quite the opposite. Tonight she seemed to have abandoned her typical heavy eyeliner and rose-colored shade of lipstick, choosing to only use her mascara and some chapstick.

"Sorry for the jumpscare," Wanda joked, her nose scrunched in amusement from your reaction. She continued to explain, "I know I'm dressed down compared to class. I just don't like putting in the effort to get ready sometimes, especially to just hang out with friends."

"No!" you exclaimed, quickly trying to backtrack the way she took your shocked expression. "No, you're fine. You're beautiful, actually, I just- I was just surprised to see you without the eyeliner and all."

Her cheeks became flushed at the compliment, but you seemed to miss it being overly concerned with your own response. She chuckled at your awkwardness, "Thanks. Oh, you can come in, by the way. I think everyone is here now."

She introduced you to each friend, after which you gave an insecure wave in return.

As the night progressed, you gradually loosened up. Whether it was time or the alcohol in your bloodstream, it frankly did not matter to you. You were not drunk by any means but definitely buzzed enough to not worry about every single decision you made. You even talked to one of Wanda's friends, Natasha, for awhile without the Sokovian present (given that she had left to use the restroom, but it still counts in your mind).

Suddenly, you were sat on the floor, playing childish party games with the others. It was fun, you couldn't lie... until it wasn't. You had already survived Truth or Dare, but someone (Tony) had suggested Spin the Bottle. With no romantic history, it was practically a given that you subsequently had not kissed anyone yet. For your first kiss to be during a stupid game of Spin the Bottle would be depressing; but, you didn't want to be the loser who said no to playing because the reason would be too humiliating to explain.

So, you elected to power through the hesitation, hoping the bottle just would not land on you.

At first, you were confident. The game was now three rounds in, and you remained lucky.

Eventually, the group had noted your lack of participation and had chosen to give you a "free spin." You silently prayed it would at least land on someone with whom you had become somewhat acquainted. With a shaky hand, you reached forward, spinning the emptied beer bottle. In the moment, it felt like the bottle would never stop spinning, but, once it did, it felt like time froze altogether.

It landed on Wanda.

Though you liked the brunette, you truly did not want your first kiss to be this way, especially with her.

She instantly noticed your apprehension. Turning to where Tony sat in the circle, she offered, "Hey, what if we did a hybrid of this and Seven Minutes in Heaven?"

Your eyes widened at the question, feeling unsure about all of this.

With a smirk on his face, Tony agreed, "I like the way you think, Maximoff. Alright, new girl, go follow Maximoff, and don't have too much fun while you're gone."

Before walking off with Wanda to the nearest bathroom, she briefly turned around to aim her middle finger at the boy. Though you were extremely overcome with anxiety about what was about to occur in the bathroom, you released a chuckle at her response.

She pulled you into the bathroom, flipping the lights on. As the door clicked shut, you faced her with your back against the wall.

"So, um, what are we supposed to do?" you asked.

"We don't have to do anything, Y/N," she replied, leaning against the bathroom counter. "I just noticed you weren't very comfortable with the idea of kissing me out there, so I improvised a little bit."

"Oh, okay," you breathed out. "Just for the record, it was not the idea of kissing you that made me uncomfortable. You- You're cool, so, it's fine."

Wanda tilted her head in curiosity, clearly not expecting that response. "Oh?" she questioned. "What was it then? Because I could clearly tell you were not very comfortable in there... I mean, you were visibly stiff."

"It's not you, I just..." you looked away, unable to meet her gaze.

"'It's not you, it's me'?" she joked, narrowing her eyes.

"Yes! No! I mean..." you exhaled. "It's not that the idea of kissing you makes me uncomfortable because, believe me, it very much doesn't. I just- I've never done this before."

The blood rushed to your cheeks during your admission. You felt utterly embarrassed, wishing you could just be back in your dorm in this moment.

"Y/N," she called softly. Despite every ounce of your body screaming at you to not do so, you returned your gaze to the Sokovian. "Do you want to kiss me?"

You couldn't read her tone. A part of you was nervous, maybe this was all some sick joke between her and her friends; yet, the other part of you was thrilled by the proposition alone.

"I wouldn't oppose," you muttered, automatically employing humor as your defense mechanism.

Wanda rolled her eyes at your antics, "Ok, then, let's play a new game." She looked down at her phone, checking the time. "We have less than four minutes in here."

Confused by the sudden change, you acquiesced in her request, "Okay?"

She stepped closer to you, standing a foot away.

Her tongue escaped her mouth, briefly licking her lips, before she proposed, "Are you going to marry, kiss, or kill me?"

Your eyes widened at the unexpected question, but you attempted to recover in order to return her playful energy, "Can I choose all three?"

Her eyebrow had risen, the infamous smirk forming on her lips. Slowly, she inched closer and closer to you until you could feel her breath on your skin. One hand found refuge on your hip, while the other she brought to the side of your face. She used her fingers to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear then cradled your face. You licked your own lips and closed your eyes in anticipation.

Then, you felt it. Her lips brushed against yours, softly and slowly as if she were testing the waters. It was only a peck, but you swear your heart burst from the experience.

A moment passed before she pulled away enough for her to speak.

"Was that okay?" she inquired, ensuring you were still interested in this.

"More than," you affirmed.

She smiled, "Good, because we still have a few minutes left, and I intend to use them."

Without another second, she connected your lips once again. This time was different, however; there was a newfound fervor behind it. Her kisses started slow like the initial pace, gradually becoming quicker and deeper. Uncertain about what to exactly do, you continue to follow her lead. You felt her slide her tongue across your lips, asking for entrance. How could you ever deny her that? As her tongue began to clumsily caress with yours, a familiar feeling settled in the pit of your stomach, but you ignored it and kept kissing her.

A knock at the door pulled you both back into reality.

"Time's up, lovebirds," the voice called. "Clothes better be on and straightened when you leave."

Wanda chuckled at her friend's words and bit her lip. For the first time, you think you see her outwardly nervous. She swallowed as she shifted her gaze from your lips to meet your eyes, "Hey, I um- I hope this wasn't a one time thing."

You sighed in relief, "With you? Never."

She leaned forward once more, placing a final peck on your lips before grabbing your hand to return to the circle. Instead of your prior placements on the floor, in which she sat on the other end, Wanda refused to let go of your hand, instead pulling you to where she had been sitting.

Thankfully, no one mentioned how your cheeks were now incredibly plagued with a pink hue, allowing the game to continue onward.

After the group decided to finish playing games and turn on a movie, you followed Wanda to the couch in order to sit next to her. As soon as you found your place at the end of the sofa, she gravitated closer, leaning into your side. Her head rested on your shoulder as if you both had been close for years.

The movie American Pie started playing, all of her friends too engrossed in it to note how the two of you were cuddled up together. She picked her head up from its place on your shoulder. You didn't think too much of it, imagining her neck must have simply gotten uncomfortable in that position.

However, she turned her head to face you, taking in the sight of you and her friends all hanging out and watching a movie. Unable to resist herself any longer, she leaned in closer, her breath hitting your ear as she whispered to you, "I can't focus on the movie. All I can think about is kissing you right now."

You rotated your head to face her, biting your lip at her words. "Shush, your friends are here," you quietly argued, but you were secretly enjoying her antics. You peered over her shoulder, observing her friends who sat quietly with their attentions fully focused on the film.

Wanda pressed a soft kiss to the base of your neck prior to returning to its original position on your shoulder. You sighed at the feeling of her affection, wondering if it would linger forever.

Soon enough, the movie ended, and it was time to go home for the night. Her friends had left moments ago, but not without saying how you should "come around more often." Honestly, you were deeply excited that you received their approval, especially after the recent developments with Wanda.

You stayed behind for a little, attempting to garner as much alone time with Wanda as you could without being interrupted.

With the others now gone, you allowed Wanda to be more affectionate; or rather, you allowed her to give in to her desires and kiss you again, and again, and again.

After the final peck, you pulled away with the cheesiest smile and swollen lips. She loved seeing you this way: giddy and carefree.

"I really like you, Wanda," you proclaimed with a sigh, effectively breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you. "Like, a lot."

"I really like you, too," she replied. "You know, in case it got lost in translation with the kissing and everything."

You playfully slapped the side of her arm. "I'm serious," you started. "You make me feel so... high school."

She raised her brow, gesturing for you to continue.

You resumed, "I never felt like this, especially during high school. For a while, I actually thought something was wrong with me." Her lips formed a slight pout at your past conflict. "I was always so... jealous of others my age, having all of these teenage experiences with crushes and romance. Since I never did, I just assumed that it was my fault, that something was wrong with me. It was isolating; it felt like some inside joke that everyone else knew about except me. But, I'm happy I waited, truthfully, because now I can experience all of those high school feelings with you."

End.

[csuitebitches]

Why Practicing Your Dream Self Privately is so Important

We all have versions of ourselves we want to be. Let’s call her “She.” 

She may be smart, beautiful, oh-so-sophisticated, knows exactly what She’s doing when walks into a room full of unknown people, accomplished…everything you’re aching to be. 

You’re struggling to achieve Her because you’re not used to being Her. You keep that version 2.0 of yourself in your thoughts but you don’t practice it irl. 

Not practicing it means that when you suddenly have to turn on your charm or have to remember etiquette in the presence of company, you can’t seem to recall those practices. Perhaps you might even feel uncomfortable, shy or awkward trying to remember all those talking points you had noted down, the “elegant gestures” that one tiktoker talks about constantly… suddenly you’re wondering how on Earth you can leave this godawful event without seeming rude. 

The problem is lack of practice. You’re so used to sitting on your couch at home with your legs spread wider than a man on a metro seat that it feels uncomfortable to now sit in a mannered way at the office dinner with the important employees. Your stomach is so used to gobbling down food without patience that you look longingly at the bread basket longer than the person seated in front of you. 

So therefore, if at home you’re not used to being even half of your best self, how are you going to feel fully confident when you’re supposed to bring “Her” out?

Obviously being fully dolled up at home makes little sense. But if you don’t practice the manners, the behaviour, the etiquette of Her - how will you comfortably transition into Her?

Do you expect to just wake up someday and become Her? Do you not think that it will take time, energy, practice to get what you want?

No amount of senseless manifesting or daydreaming is going to make your dreams come true. 

Certain habits, gestures, expressions will only come naturally to you when you make them natural to yourself by way of practice. 

You’ve read enough, saved and liked enough posts, you’ve learned all the mumbo jumbo theory to getting your life together but it’s all useless if you don’t put your learnings to practice irl.  

[sebsxphia]

your (my) life with rhett abbott.

rhett abbott x reader.

￫ summary: a life with rhett.

￫ word count: 680.

￫ warnings: mentions of sex, some angst, children and fluff.

￫ authors notes: this is a collection of daydreams i have about my cowboy husband. my main masterlist can be found here! 💌

Rhett is a little awkward and shy. For a burly bull rider, when he first asked you out, his thumb moved between each fingernail to pick at it. His hands were twitching with nerves. From a first glance, he simply looked like a man asking a person out. His hands were by his sides and he stood tall.

His father told him to never look small, even though he made Rhett feel so small sometimes.

When you replied with a beaming smile that you would love to go out with him sometime, his cheeks became flushed with a warm pink, that spread over the tops of his ears and down his neck in a hot flush.

He gets grumpy too. His eyebrows knit together in a firm line. His eyes become stone and his eyelids grow heavy. He’ll focus on one particular spot of dirt on his jeans, not baring to look at anything else. He clenches his teeth tightly together and his jaw becomes firmly set.

But, he stands up for himself and what he thinks is right. However, it comes off as him being defensive and angry when really, he’s only trying to protect the things that he loves most. That being the life you’ve built together on your ranch and most importantly, you and your little baby girl.

Bonnie Abbott was born in the early spring. You spent many days in the summer standing on your front porch, with her in your arms and watching Rhett work not too far from your home. He couldn’t bear to spend long periods away from you both, so he always opted to do work closer to your home during the day.

You would hold her chubby little hand and wave it for her, humming in a sweet voice, “Wave to Daddy, Bonnie!”

You watch as your three ranch cats jump from the rooftops and fences of the barn. Your Anatolian Shepherd, Daisy, sits by your feet and keeps a careful and protective watch over both you and Bonnie. Robin, your Blue Heeler, is always quick on Rhett’s heels and trails around behind him, as he works in the hot and sticky Wyoming summer heat. Rhett whistles sharply between his lips and Robin is always quick to follow.

You still live in Wyoming, but you chose your ranch to be two towns over from Wabang. Rhett wanted to distance himself from his family, but he couldn’t leave them completely. He’s still holding onto this deeply entrenched guilt, that therefore causes him to tether to them.

He’s working on it though. He’s working on himself.

He doesn’t deny his mother and father of seeing his grandchild. You go back to visit when you can, but you normally leave after spending the day there. Rhett can only bear so many hours before the familiar and tell-tale signs of his set frown and tense jaw begin to appear. You still go back for occasions such as Thanksgiving and Christmas. Those are the only two occasions when you, Rhett and Bonnie will stay the night.

His old room is still there. It still comforts him.

You press up against Rhett in his small bed and keep him warm, whilst Bonnie sleeps soundly beside you both in her crib. His room is nearly identical to when he left it, but these small changes with you both now being in there with him, is what gives him the harmony to fall asleep.

You asked Rhett once if he would be gentle with you, as he had your beautiful naked body below him.

“Will you be gentle with me? Please be gentle with me.”

He gave you the love that you so dearly deserved. He calls you his “baby,” his “darlin’”, his love.

He is your dream. He is your cowboy, but a man who needs to be wanted. He needs to feel wanted. He gets so much validation from you, in every way. Emotionally, physically, sexually… And you give that to him without hesitation. He’s so over the moon with you. He’s so profoundly and deeply in love with you.

taglist: @beachbabey @tallrock35 @currentlybradshaw @unmistakablyunknown @iloveprettyboysblog @flames-thebitch @randomfandomgirl97 @kmc1989 @swiftsgirlfriend

tagging those who may be interested: @sunblchdfly @sugarcoated-lame @lewmagoo @peachystenbrough @floydsmuse @rhettmotel @mearslot @rhettabbotts @hangmanapologist @withahappyrefrain @castiel-barnes @sandbarbirdie

[dollarbils]

masterlist

〘 billie eilish 〙

•

-> fics

wish you were gay

context. billie’s feelings towards your friendship change as you battle the question of your own sexuality.

can i suck it? ༄

context. your best friend, billie, wants to take a look at your new nipple piercing. so you let her...

but baby, i

context. your ex girlfriend, billie, can’t resist calling you a week after you’d broken up.

ruin it

context. billie doesn't want to ruin your friendship so she keeps her feelings to herself.

believe what you want ༄

context. your ex girlfriend, billie, shows up at your party, but fails in expressing her intentions.

american jesus

context. your girlfriend likes taking you slow and soft sometimes, choosing to drag out the experience and treat you like her princess.

male fantasy

context. when you encounter your ex girlfriend, an awkward moment turns into something more, and you both begin to rethink your decision to end things.

-> series

break up with him (1), did you break up with him? (2), i like you better with me (3) ༄

context. you and billie are broken up. but despite your new relationship, when you meet at a party, the feelings you both swore were gone, seem to resurface.

my stalker (1), crush on my stalker (2), my girl’s a stalker (3) ༄

context. your stalker doesn’t appreciate the police report you just filed.

tell me i’m your only fan (1), don’t wanna be your fan (2) coming soon..

context. your most active fan on onlyfans soon piqued your interest as she became something much more.

-> requests

tell me you think of me ༄

context. you’re fed up of billie bringing home different girls every night. that’s until one night when you overhear something of interest in one of her one night stands.

is that eilish?

context. your best friend raves on about the fact your wearing her perfume.

drunk on her touch ༄

context. when you meet billie at her party, she cant keep her eyes off you.

I think, therefore I am ༄

context. billie has a crush on her guitarist

on top of me ༄

context. early on into your relationship, billie voices an idea that’s been consuming your mind for weeks.

morning, baby ༄

context. billie wakes you up to attend to your needs, and hers.

those poor unamerican girls ༄

context. your religious parents aren’t happy about your illicit relationship with billie.

babbles ༄

context. billies a talker and she can't stop herself from rambling while you're between her thighs, or on top of her.

‘wanna make you yell ༄

context. scenes of a night you spent together end up as the visuals for billies hit me hard and soft tour

admit you want me ༄

context. billie, your roommate, starts a fight with you which soon gets heated.

such a fuckboy ༄

context. billie approaches you at an event, but you’re soon reminded that she has others waiting in line for her attention.

-> blurbs

stay quiet, baby ༄

context. billie teases you at the grammys (request).

bling ༄

context. the bling on her teeth have you daydreaming about her lips more than you should (request).

ilomilo

context. after a fight, you and billie find yourself regretting your actions.

wildflower

context. you can't help falling for her, even though you're both aware it could never happen.

i could buy her so much stuff

context. billie spoils you rotten. she couldn’t give a shit if you felt guilty, but you’re grateful for her generosity.

aftercare ༄

context. when billie has you weak and sensitive, she never forgets to care for your needs.

i know you

context. heated kisses and soft reassurance, and at the end of the day, neither of you needed more than the knowledge that you truly know each other.

patience

context. your girlfriend finds it hard to battle her impatience when it comes to needing you.

maybe just fuck off

context. billie’s in no mood for any distractions, no matter the situation

las docs uvas de la suerte

context. your best friend, billie can’t help finding your new year’s tradition the cutest thing ever.

[purplecoffee13]

NFWMB - part 3

Summary: “Harry runs into Y/N in the last place he expected her to be on a random Wednesday evening…”

Wc: 3.1k

Tropes: boxer!harry x innocent!reader

Warnings: none, really

A/N: hi lovely people, hereby I give you part 3 of NFWMB! Be mindful that this is a longer series so the build-up will, therefore, also take longer. It’s a bit of a short part but I promise the next one will make up for it! I also want to thank my bestie for constantly brainstorming this plot with me you know who you are ILYYY🥰🥰🤭🙏��️ ENJOYYY

General Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Harry had been restless ever since he said goodbye to Y/N and stepped into his car yesterday. It was like his whole body was screaming at him to turn around and kiss her. He had never felt such a need to do it before. Never experienced his body pulling him to hers like magnets, as if he couldn't breathe properly again until he kissed her.

It was scary, to say the least.

He'd had crushes before, or just people he'd found attractive and sometimes popped up in his fantasies, but this was different. It was almost laughable. How did he even know it was different, Harry ridiculed himself. He'd seen the girl— what? Two, three times now?

And then, like clockwork, that lovingly ache in his stomach would multiply in response, and Harry just knew. It was risky, he was aware of that as well, but he just wanted her close, one way or another. Even if he'd have to wait until the day she didn't want self-defense classes anymore to ask her on a date, he would, although it felt almost physically impossible to think of being that close to her and never being able to kiss her.

If he could just kiss her...

Harry frowned, staring blankly towards the heap of paperwork on his desk. He had been busy with this for the last two hours, and his daydreaming about Y/N was the only reason it was not yet finished. He tried to read again, but the letters on the paper just wouldn't form into words. Sighing, Harry looked up from his desk, looking out into the training room, which was on the empty side. It was lunchtime now, so it would fill up again in an hour or two.

The sight of Y/N walking through the room had Harry leaping from his chair. He blinked a couple times, making sure he wasn't dreaming or anything. Nope, he was not dreaming at all, Y/N was in the gym.

Not only that, she was also wearing tight sports leggings. It was paired with a wide oversized sweatshirt that covered most of her ass, but Harry let out a breath anyway as he shamelessly observed her long legs. This was not helping his case at all.

He stayed surprisingly still as he watched Y/N walk over to the treadmill, looking around the room before she steps on it. Harry tilted his head when he noticed her furiously pushing some buttons, and she began running faster and faster.

Where did she learn to run so fast? Why is she running so fast? She must be relieving some frustrations. He’d had days where his adrenaline overflowed as well.

He wanted to go up to her and talk to her, but he stopped himself before he could reach the door. He needed to finish this paperwork before he could do that. It would be great motivation to hurry the fuck up.

So, he did. He finished the paperwork in twenty minutes. It was embarrassing how little time it actually took now that he wasn't daydreaming about Y/N the entire time. It was even more embarrassing to realize that the only reason his daydreams were subsiding was because she was out there, a couple feet away.

Pathetic!

He kept shouting it at himself, yet he still couldn’t seem to care that he was acting like a lovesick teenager. With a smile, he got up from his desk and walked into the training room, going straight for the treadmills.

His face faltered, however, at the sight of empty treadmills. Harry walked over to the one he last saw Y/N on, and his brows raised at the digits he read.

She ran 7 kilometers in thirty minutes? That was incredibly fast. He would have a lot of difficulty with keeping up, he wasn't even sure if he could keep up if he tried. Why didn't she ever mention she was a running miracle?

The sound of a familiar laugh made Harry's ears perk up, and his stomach fluttered as he turned around to look for Y/N. Whatever was fluttering in his stomach died on the spot, however, when he finally caught sight of Y/N... with another man.

She was standing with Alan, one of the personal trainers he hired. Harry had always been careful with his application process, and although he knew Alan was a good guy, he the urge to drop kick him to the ground was too strong to ignore.

How could he possibly have made her laugh like that? How funny did he have to be to make that sound fall from her lips? Harry scoffed to himself, shaking his head as he approached the two.

"Hey!" He conjured a smile for Y/N, which was easy to do, especially since her face lightened up at the sight of him. It told him she felt comfortable in his presence. The assurance that ran through his veins felt like being cuddled up in a warm blanket on a snowy winters' day.

"Harry, hi!" She greeted him, seeming to forget about Alan existence entirely until he greeted Harry. She finally blinked, taking her back to reality.

"Hey man." Alan greeted him casually. Harry just nodded in a response, a small 'hey' falling from his lips before turning his attention Y/N again.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, eyes twinkling with enthusiasm which he hoped would translate into his words as well. Y/N looked away for a second, cheeks turning red as she fiddled with her hands.

"Just— blowing off some steam."

That was definitely a lie, Harry could tell. Not only because she was a terrible liar, but also because she had a habit of looking away and fiddling with stuff whenever she was scared to tell the truth— wait, her hand...

A small stabbing ache filled Harry's chest as he noticed the wrapped bandage around Y/N's palm. He turned to Alan.

"Don't you have a two o'clock?"

It was a bit harsher than Harry usually was towards his employees. He was a stern boss, but still the kind to have a nice chat with. This was a bit out of character for him, but he couldn’t care less about that now. He needed to know what happened, and Y/N would never be comfortable with telling the truth if Alan was still there.

It didn't take more than two seconds for Alan to realize what the true situation here was, raising his brows as he immediately took a step back— literally and figuratively.

"Right. See you around, Y/N." He winked at her as he walked off. Harry clenched his jaw—the pile of profanities in his mind reserved for Alan slowly growing—and eyed the girl next to him, who gave his employee a small wave as he finally disappeared.

"So," Harry looked down at Y/N's hand. "Tell me, what's really going on?"

Y/N shrugged. "Nothing. Busy day at work, so I came here to blow off some steam."

Bullshit. He didn't buy into that being the whole story. She was definitely not telling him everything, but then again, they didn't know each other very well so it was completely valid for her not to bombard him with all her secrets. He wished he could just tell her that she could trust him.

"You ran really fast." He decided to go a different route. When she didn't necessarily respond to that, he added, "like, impressively fast."

"I just had a lot of extra energy to sweat out." Another excuse rolled off her tongue, and Harry decided to stop trying to coax a real answer out of her. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable, but he couldn't resist asking one last question, though.

"What happened to your hand?"

Y/N frowned, looking down at her hand, as if only just now remembering that it was visible to other people as well. The pained look on her face stirred a feeling of worry in Harry. He hated that he couldn't read her thoughts and make sure she was really okay.

"Just my regular clumsiness." She said, sounding strained.

"Y/N, you know you can talk to me—"

"Hey! Are you going to Sophie's party?" She suddenly chimed in, cutting Harry off. He was so thrown off by the question that he couldn't think of anything clever enough to intercept her interruption.

"Uh, yes." He answered blankly.

"Oh thank God. I was hoping you'd say that, I was afraid I wasn't going to know anyone there." She smiled at him, and every other thought that Harry had had in the last hour suddenly flew out of the window. The corners of his mouth pulled up.

"Isn't Sophie inviting other colleagues as well?" He asked, still grinning from that smile she just gave him.

"Yes... but Sophie runs with the cool crowd."

Harry chuckled. "You make it sound like it's high school."

"That's because it is." She shrugged. "Sophie is with the popular kids, like a cheerleader."

"And what does that make you?" Harry tilted his head. Y/N tilted her head, thinking it over for a few seconds, before she answered:

"The audiovisual geek."

A snort escaped Harry's throat. He hadn't expected that answer at all, nor did he believe it to be true. An angel like Y/N being at the bottom of this food chain she was explaining? She was clearly undermining herself, once again.

"What? It's true!" She exclaimed, giggling softly as she watched Harry shake his head.

"Well, I'll be there, so at least you'll have one friendly face around."

"Good. But I'm warning you, I'm probably going to be clung to your side the entire night, so be prepared to get sick of me." She teased.

She teased. Was she flirting with him? By the way her lit up, doe eyes were looking at her, it kind of seemed like she was. She was especially bold today. Last week she had to chug half a water bottle after Harry touched her. He fought back the smirk that threatened to break out on his face as he answered, deciding to play into her cheekiness.

"That won't be a problem, love."

Y/N's smile faltered ever so slightly, her cheeks turning a rosy red much like they always did whenever Harry would say something like this. She swallowed, quickly eyeing at the ground before meeting Harry's gaze again, as if reminding herself to get herself together.

"Uhm, anyway, I just— I had a question... about the self defense classes."

Harry had to keep himself from laughing at how quickly she had gotten flustered, and quirked up a brow to indicate she go on.

"I want to build some muscle. You know, gain some extra strength, like you said last week." She clarified. Harry hummed, crossing his arms. "Well, Alan was telling me that he's a personal trainer, and he has these plans for beginners. Do you think it would be a good idea if I did that?"

Abso-fucking-lutely NOT.

"No." He said, his selfishness getting ahead of him.

"Oh."

The sound was small, but Harry could hear the severe disappointment. Oh god, was an absolute monster. The poor angel was telling him about wanting to put in extra effort and here he was, rejecting her idea with harshness that wasn't even reserved for her. It was reserved for Alan, and his nose, which he was going to break soon.

"I think it'd be better if I make you a custom plan, one that'll match with the self defense classes." He elaborated. To be honest, that wasn't exactly the reason why he'd said no in the first place, but he simply did not want her to be around Alan if she could be around him.

"Oh, okay." Y/N responded, her eyes lit up at the sound of his promise. "If it's not too much trouble."

Harry scoffed. "Not at all, angel."

There it went, the nickname rolled off his tongue again. He couldn't help it, it was just so easy. Despite Harry's display of coolness, he eyed Y/N to see what her reaction was to the nickname. The last time, she'd ran away, literally. She basically sprinted to her apartment. Now, her bottom lip was stuck between her teeth as she fought a smile.

He could've sworn he was going into cardiac arrest. This was the best possible reaction to him calling her angel. It was also the worst, because now all Harry could focus on were those damn plump lips.

"I should probably get a gym membership then, huh?" She tried to fill the silence that fell when Harry stopped trying to keep the conversation going and decided to just admire her face instead.

"We can take care of that next week." He said, his eyes trailing down to her lips and back up. Y/N looked like a deer in headlights, her mouth opening ever so slightly to say something, but a loud voice interrupted the both of them.

"Y/N?!"

Both their heads whipped around to see Sophie standing in the door opening. Other people were looking at the crazy woman in the doorway as well, but Sophie didn't care as she marched towards Y/N and Harry.

"What are you doing here?"

"Oh, just blowing off some steam." She smiled, using the same excuse she'd told Harry. "Wanted to go for a run outside but it's pouring rain, so I thought this would be a better option."

Sophie nodded, not entirely convinced as her eyes darted between Y/N and Harry. The sole look on her face told Harry that he wasn't going to be let off the hook so easily as soon as Sophie got him alone, which would be soon, because Y/N was quick to say

"I'm gonna go... I've got some paperwork to finish at home." She stammered, taking a few steps towards the door.

"Of course, good luck sweetie. See you tomorrow?" Sophie's voice was soft like honey as she addressed her angel of a friend. Y/N nodded and gave her a hug before peeping a small 'bye' to Harry and rushing out the door.

Harry couldn't stop staring at her, not as she walked out the door, nor as she walked to her car. He felt like he'd waste her beauty if he didn't just look at her all the time. Like, if he didn't appreciate it enough now, if he didn't memorize all the details on her face, he would regret if she suddenly left his life.

"You are going to tell me what the fuck is going on right now." Sophie's voice cut through the thoughts that clouded his common sense. When he turned his head to her, her face was stern. A born lawyer.

"Nothing." Harry frowned at her, a bit frustrated with the fact that he was speaking the truth himself. He wished he had more to lie about other than his boyish crush on Y/N. Unfortunately, 'more' seemed to be quite out of reach.

"I wasn't born yesterday, Harry. Just tell me." Sophie put her hands on her hips, waiting for her to spill her guts. Instead, Harry shrugged. He had nothing to confess, because he and Y/N were just friends. Not even, they weren't even friends. Just trainer and trainee. For some reason, that realization stung a whole lot.

"I told you, nothing is going on." He growled. Sophie raised her brows; she'd clearly hit a nerve and the expression on her face read 'bingo!'. But she didn't push him, something Harry was expecting her to do.

"Listen, Harry. You're one of my dearest friends, and I'll always support your decisions, but I'm telling you right now... be careful." She warned him slowly, the serious tone of voice making Harry's ears perk up more at what she said.

"Y/N is a great girl, sweetest person I've ever met. But she's young, Harry, and she's only lived a very secluded life so far." She explained, and Harry clenched his jaw, heart straining at the confrontational tone. "If you're serious about her, great! I love her, she's amazing and I think you'd be very good for each other. But if you view this is a 'one and done' kind of situation, then I strongly suggest you pick someone else because she really likes you, I can see it."

The corner of his mouth quirked up. "You think she likes me?"

The next sound that left him was a yelp, flinching at Sophie's hand punching against his upper arm.

"Was that seriously the only thing you got from my speech?" She squinted her eyes at her friend. He only had that cheeky grin on his face.

"It was the part that stood out most." He wiggled his eyebrows, earning another slap against his arm. Harry hissed, moving away from Sophie. "God you hit hard, do you take self defense classes or something?"

"You have five seconds to disappear or I'll go full Kung Fu on your ass, Harry." Sophie grunted, pouting an accusatory finger at him.

"Actually, what I teach is not called Kung Fu—" She corrected her, having too much fun with this situation. He wasn't able to stop himself from teasing his friend, mainly because he didn't want to. Harry was in a bit of a cheeky mood now that Sophie had told him Y/N liked him.

"Two more seconds Harry." She growled, rolling up her sleeves.

"And speaking of self defense, your punch was kind of weak. Have you been lifting those weights we talked about—"

"Time's up!" Sophie exclaimed, and before she'd finished her sentence, Harry was running back to his office. He was in his office just in time to lock the door and laugh at the middle fingers Sophie was holding up for him. After a few minutes, she gave up and began to exercise, leaving Harry alone with his running mind.

"...because she really likes you, I can see it." 

He was aware that he was grinning like an idiot as he replayed that sentence over and over in his head while creating a membership card for Y/N on his computer and sending the bill to his own bank account, but he didn't give a fuck. He didn't care if the whole word could see him giddy over this angel of his, in fact, he would only love to show her off.

She liked him. He couldn't believe it.

Taglist: @meetmeatyourworst @mema10 @seafoamwhispers @namoreno @inkedskin @fangirl509east @mellamolayla @lizsogolden @prettydelilah

[valtsv]

i went ice skating today and spent the entire time daydreaming about the silt verses gang going ice skating so here's what i came up with:

CARPENTER - competent skater, but lacks any finesse or technique and couldn't give less of a fuck. she's only there to spend some quality time with hayward and paige, who all but begged her to come, and bully the shit out of faulkner. tries to light up a cigarette and smoke it and gets told you can't do that on the ice, much to her displeasure.

FAULKNER - has never skated in his life but is convinced that he will instinctively take to the ice with the grace of a swan to water. when he inevitably beefs it he starts sulkily suggesting that ice skating is actually an affront to the trawlerman, and therefore his lack of skill is divinely ordained, while carpenter laughs mercilessly at him. refuses any and all help no matter how many times he falls, until the very end, when almost everyone has left the rink, and he allows carpenter to stand behind him and push him around. grudgingly forced to admit that it was a lot of fun, until they slipped on an uneven patch of ice and both went down in a sprawling tangle of limbs.

PAIGE - the only one in the group who can actually skate, thanks to her dad trying to buy her love with lessons for a couple of years when she was still young enough for it to almost be convincing (but not so young she didn't question where the money for them was coming from), so it's a bit of a sore subject for her. she gets to rewrite those painful memories a little by risking dredging them up again, though, which is undeniably a blessing.

HAYWARD - the closest this man has ever come to ice skating is when he slipped on a patch of black ice while out on patrol when he was still on the force. paige spends much of the day leading him around and trying to show him the ropes while he staggers about clumsily and frequently falls, much to her poorly disguised amusement. when he successfully completes a single circuit of the rink on his own, he immediately suggests that they enter next years' pairs skating nationals while paige rolls her eyes (fondly).

SHRUE - might have taken their daughters skating once a few hazy years back, hasn't been anywhere near an ice rink before or since and honestly had no problem with keeping it that way. spends the entire time standing to the side and watching the others, occasionally testing their weight on their blades gingerly like a newborn deer before lunging again for the handrail for dear life. looks miserable standing alone hunched into their jacket and scarf, but insists they're fine. to be fair, the others' antics are pretty good entertainment.

VAL - has also never stepped on ice in her life, and wouldn't remember if she had, but unlike faulkner, hayward or shrue, she lacks the self-preservation to even conceive of falling. spends several minutes smugly observing her hapless acquaintances struggle before stepping out onto the ice herself and executing a perfect, beautiful glide - right until she crashes into the opposite side of the rink and takes a spill head over heels over the barrier (she tries to make everyone forget it happened, of course, and they humour her by pretending it worked). later hears about how people have lost fingers in freak ice skating accidents and gets jealous that it didn't happen to her (either giving or receiving, she's not that picky).

[astrodice]

What career suites you best based on destiny matrix? (part 3/3)

part 1 part 2

To find out what career suits you best and what can you do to succeed, we have to look at the number under the dollar sign.

note: there are so many different career choices and the options I'm listing here are just general examples based. you're free to choose any career, and hopefully, you don't feel pressured by this post to suddenly become philosopher.

16 - The Tower

People with the tower energy are resilient to change when it comes to finances and career. They face obstacles that affect their careers and finances pretty often, but still they can overcome all the problems. These people are strong, adaptive and energetic.

The most suitable career:

lifeguard

builder

electrician

renovator

Challenges that affect career:

fear of change (the tower is a proof that you can overcome all the obstacles, rebuild yourself and your career)

self-destruction

overestimating your skills

unfortunate circumstances (something that can't be forseen like job loss)

I couldn't find famous people with this placement. If you have it, please tell me what you do for a living 🤩

17 - The Star

People with this energy usually have a dream job, and they can achieve their dream if they believe in it. They are creative, artistic and the public loves them. But it doesn't mean that their career will be necessarily related to art, it may be something more mundane, but it requires a creative approach.

The most suitable career:

artist/actor/singer

designer/architect

astrologer

astronaut

Challenges that affect career:

rejecting your dream

being shy about being talented

being passive

"star sickness"

over consumption

Famous people with this placement: Zaha Hadid (architect), Ryan Gosling

18 - The Moon

People with the moon energy are empaths who have an ability to to materialise their thoughts. The can achieve the most success when they do art or create something material.

The most suitable career:

poet/writer

doing show business

astrologer/fortune teller

psychologist

bloger

Challenges that affect career:

fear of failure

taking no action towards your dream (maladaptive daydreaming entered the chat)

storing negative energy (repressed anger, holding back tears, etc)

escapism

Famous people with this placement: Kylie Jenner, Lana Del Rey, Elvis Presley

19 - The Sun

People with the sun energy are ambitious, energetic, they know how to make people pay attention to them, know how to lead the crowd. When the energy is in the negative, these people can get fixated on one thing, which may lead to burn out.

The most suitable career:

politician

CEO

motivational speaker

global artist

top manager

Challenges that affect career:

pride

excessive demands on people around you

being critical

inaction

Famous people with this placement: Beyonce, Justin Biber, Rihanna, Kim Kardashian, Zayn, Kurt Cobain

20 - Judgment

First of all, this arcana is related to your family. You have to check how you parents/family affect your relationship with money and career. Maybe they have a belief that it's impossible to get rich, and therefore you adapt their belief. Moving on, 20 indicates success in the fields of politics, science and education. Also, 20 can indicate having a successful business with family.

The most suitable career:

journalist

politician

advocate

scientist

philosopher

teacher

Challenges that affect career:

being involved in family conflicts

controlling tendencies

dependence on the opinion of elders in the family

fear of change

denial of progress

lack of education

Famous people with this placement: Priscilla Chan (pediatrician and philanthropist, co-founder of Meta), Tatyana Kim (CEO of the largest online retailer platform in Russia, teacher, before staring business with her husband she was teaching English), Perrie Edwards, Aaliyah

21 - The World

People with the world energy are able to carry large-scale projects. They are influential, open-minded and they are in tune with the world around them.

The most suitable career:

diplomat

traveler

travel agent

software developer

artist/musician/actor

Challenges that affect career:

power abuse

staying in comfort zone

limiting beliefs

intolerance

technical backwardness

Famous people with this placement: Timothée Chalamet, Camala Harris

22 - The Fool

This arcana makes people spontaneous, they are guided by their passions and intuition. They are the ones who can come up with successful startup, business plan, etc. Also, they have creative/artistic potential. The downside of the fool is that office job and schedules make them stress too much, because they find it hard to concentrate.

The most suitable career:

bloger

movie director

startup(er)?

dancer/actor/musician

producer/movie director

poet

photographer

Famous people with this placement: Elon Musk, Kris Jenner, Marilyn Monroe, Donatella Versace

[chilling-seavey]

Love Thy Neighbour (gr63) - Part Two

↳ A/N Another day of daydreaming about househusband George sighh. This universe really holds a special place in my heart, honestly. But maybe that's because I'm addicted to the concept of the 1980s and all that I missed from not existing then-

↳ Inspired By: 'Everything She Wants' by Wham! and 'Heartbeat' by Wham!

↳ Summary: It’s the end of summer 1984 and you and your perfect little family moves into a quaint suburban neighbourhood to escape the hustle and bustle of the Manhattan lifestyle. Your next door neighbours are a picture-perfect family of their own - or so it seems from the outside. But, as you spend more time with the handsome husband, the cracks in your own 'perfect' marriage start to come to light.

↳ Pairings: George Russell x Neighbour!Fem!Reader (NO use of y/n)

↳ Word Count: 27.3k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, cheating/adultery (and the consequences that may come along with it), use of explicit language, oral (f and m receiving), choking, spanking, some biting, hair pulling, use of derogatory names (slut etc.), unprotected sex, open ending

PART ONE

October 1984

You were sure there was nothing wrong with wanting to work outside in your garden the same afternoon that George happened to be mowing his lawn. Just two neighbours innocently working on their respective properties in the same late morning autumn sun. In reality, you had nothing to really work on since you had just moved in and the seasons were already changing, therefore nothing was in your garden. But you busied yourself with the few weeds and cleaning up the edges here and there, in need of some excuse to keep an eye on your dear neighbour. 

You hadn’t seen him all weekend since your spouses were home from work and those two days were always important family time that was otherwise limited during the week. Since your whirlwind of a Friday, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about George. Every time your family ate breakfast in the kitchen, your eyes kept drifting to the counter that he had you up on. Every time you walked past the living room, all you could see was him on top of you on that floral couch. Every time Andrew kissed you, you wondered if he tasted another man on your lips. It was once guilt but now the thrill seemed to overpower it.

After taking your boys to the bus stop that morning, you and George didn’t speak much more than passing remarks about your weekends and your plans for the day. George’s comment about needing to get outside to cut the lawn captured your attention and the sight of him sharply pulling the cord on his lawn mower to bring the motor to life captured your attention out your front bedroom windows. That’s ultimately what got you outside. His bare torso glistening in the bright sunshine was what kept you outside. 

It was likely that your staring wasn’t discreet as you pawed dumbly at your empty garden and fleeting weeds, crisp new floral garden gloves on your hands to really look the part. Any advances were halted by the public space of your street you found yourselves on, knowing the gossip of the neighbourhood that could arise with ease, not to mention George’s three-year-old who was entertaining herself on the driveway with a box of chalk. The noise of the gas powered lawn mower disrupted the peaceful suburban street but you would never complain at the view it offered. With your hands distractedly in the dirt, your entire head was turned to the neighbouring property, eyes squinted slightly in the sun but steadfast and focused on the handsome man that blessed your vision. 

Your attention was soon torn away from him and to the little girl just beyond as she had stood up from the driveway and was almost skipping across the grass towards you. George kept an eye on her to make sure she wasn’t in the path of his mowing and he slowed down a bit to watch as she approached you. You sat back on your ankles with a friendly smile as the little brunette girl bounded over to you with bouncing curling pigtails. 

“Hey, you.” you greeted her sweetly. 

She clasped her hands behind her back bashfully and swayed back and forth for a moment in her short denim overalls and white sneakers that were dusted in colourful pastel chalk.

“What are you drawing over there?” you asked.

Nancy held out her hand to you, “Come see.”

You weren’t doing anything in all honesty so her little interruption was welcomed and you removed your garden gloves before letting her take your hand as you stood from the grass. She walked you right over George’s freshly mowed lawn, leaving your footprints behind in the short grass, and soon you were stepping onto the pavement of the driveway. The swirling shapes of colourful chalk filled an impressive amount of the black tar and although most of it was toddler scribbles, you could make out a few stick people and maybe a house or two. 

“This is beautiful, Nance.” you complimented as she held your hand proudly, her little fingers wrapped around your index and middle. “I love all the colours!” 

She smiled up at you, her eyes as big and beautiful blue as her father’s. 

“Hey, wanna do something cool?” you asked. 

Nancy nodded. 

“Lay down over here in this blank spot.” you guided her over to a clear area of the driveway where she had yet to colour. The three-year-old flopped herself down and laid back so she was flat and you joined her with one of the sticks of chalk. “Now stay nice and still.”

You carefully traced around her with the chalk while she giggled on the ground, so curious as to what you were doing. You spoke to her as you traced her body; going around each leg and along the length of her arms and carefully around her head so as to not snag her hair. When you stood back up, you held your hands out so you could help her up to her feet. 

“There,” you gestured to the outline of her body, “A Nancy outline that you can colour and draw clothes on and a face and everything!”

“Woah!” she beamed up at you, “Cool!” 

“Think so?” you chuckled, passing over the chalk you held, “Ought to keep you busy, huh?”

“Thank you!” she almost shouted as she dropped to the ground again to get right to work on her silhouette. 

The silence that fell over the neighbourhood had you glancing over to the lawn where George had just turned off the mower after completing the front yard. He was absolutely glistening in the sun, skin dotted in sweat from the task of mowing the lawn, and he lifted an arm up to rub his forearm across his forehead to get his hair out of his face. In doing so, his muscles rippled and your teeth naturally caught your bottom lip, feet helping themselves back across his driveway to join him on the grass. He met you halfway until you were standing right in front of each other but his gaze drifted past you to his daughter scribbling away. 

“That was a cute thing you did for her there.” he complimented. 

You shrugged modestly, “What little girl doesn’t like a little imagination makeover, hm?”

The two of you shared small smiles. There was a pause. 

“What were you doing out here?” he asked. 

“Gardening.” you answered.

“In your empty garden? In early autumn?”

“Yes.” you crossed your arms over your chest matter-of-factly. 

“No other reason?”

You licked your lips but forced yourself not to glance down at his sweaty body standing right before you, “Nope. Just taking care of my property.”

“I see.” George chuckled, certainly disbelieving. 

“You know,” you spoke bravely but still keeping your voice down so as to not be heard by little girls or any passing neighbours, “I’m mad at you.”

“Oh?” George set his hands on his hips, “Why’s that?”

“Now Andrew can’t make me fucking cum unless I’m thinking about you.”

His eyebrows peaked for a moment, “Oh, really?”

“Yep. All weekend I haven’t stopped thinking about Friday.”

“Me neither.”

“Andrew came home from work late on Friday night…joined me in bed…and all I was doing was thinking about you and how you made me cum so hard I was shaking.” 

“Mm,” George feigned a serious expression upon hearing your confession, “Well, at least your spouse still puts out.”

Your mouth fell open despite your amused smile, “Oh!”

George licked away his grin and glanced towards the street for a moment, his hands sliding into the back pockets of his denim shorts. 

But you were right on the response, countering smoothly, “Don’t know why yours wouldn’t when her husband is built like a marble statue and has a tongue that puts linguists to shame.”

He looked right back at you, his eyes dropping to your lips and then to your body before meeting your gaze again, “Don’t know why your husband can’t make his own wife cum on his own when a near stranger got her off twice in one afternoon.”

It was all just flirty playful banter so you weren’t offended in the slightest over someone half dissing your dear husband - especially since it was George of all people. Just having him in front of you made you nervous in the absolute best way and although you weren’t sweaty from working outside like he was, your skin was still burning hot. 

Your finger trailed over the thin line of brown hair that led from his navel into his shorts and you offered softly, “Wanna do it again?”

George couldn’t take his eyes off of you, “Do what again? Make you cum?”

You nodded with a soft “mhm”, keeping his lingering stare in the morning sun. 

“I’ll be sure to return the favour this time.” you added. 

“Oh, really?” George’s soft smirk teased at the corner of his lips, “Is that a promise?”

You knew exactly what you were doing, linking your finger in the belt loop of his shorts to tug on them as you spoke softly but surely right to his face, “Yes, sir.”

George’s breath shuttered slightly and he stepped away from you a bit, “Lemmy put the kid down for her nap and I’ll have a quick shower. Come over in twenty?”

“Don’t shower.” you tisked, “I like you like this.”

With a cock of his head, George asked in such a whisper that you could barely hear him yourself, “Does your husband know you’re this fucking filthy?”

“Maybe I just save it for you.” you countered expertly, both of you turning around together to swap positions on his lawn so you could drift off towards your house and he could do the same towards his. 

“Twenty minutes,” he said seriously, “No later.” 

You offered him a teasing little two-fingers salute before you were hurrying across your lawn in a near rush. You gathered your wimpy gardening tools (well, more like props) and rushed up your stone steps and right into your house, barely able to kick off your shoes before you were down the hallway and dumping your tools in the sink to keep from dirtying up the spotless house. The stairs pulled you up to your bedroom where you freshened up quickly and made sure you had no grass stains on your jeans or chalk dust on your hands. Then, for the remaining eighteen minutes, you paced your downstairs hallway impatiently. 

Making the journey back across your adjacent lawns to George’s front porch was familiar and you took your time so as to not appear too desperate to any possible onlookers from across the street. Nancy’s self portrait was resting beautifully on the driveway and you smiled at it fleetingly and the huge grin she had drawn on herself. Up the few front steps and onto the porch, you knocked three times and stepped back down a step to wait for an answer. Only a few seconds later, George was opening the door for you and ushering you inside, still in his shorts but now donning a white tank top as well. 

“Thought I said stay how you were.” you tisked as you stepped inside and he closed the door behind the both of you. 

“Felt a little weird tucking my toddler into bed all sweaty and shirtless.” he chuckled as he grabbed the bottom of his tank top and pulled it over his head so it could be tossed onto the bench in the foyer. He made his usual path down the foyer and past the stairs to the kitchen, offering to you over his shoulder as you followed him closely, “Tea?”

“We’re not going to drink it.” you argued lightly. 

George turned to face you as he stalked backwards into the kitchen, resting a hand on the counter and the other on the island, “No, but I wouldn’t be a good host unless I offered.” 

You pressed a finger between his collarbones and dragged it down between his pecs, “You are already serving me plenty.”

His warm chuckle could be felt under your touch and you bit back your lustful smile as the desire burned stronger within you again. George reached a hand out and tugged gently at the front of your blouse, “I think you have too many clothes on.”

You took his hint and you pulled your shirt off, leaving you standing in your bra and jeans in the middle of his wood trimmed kitchen. The patterned linoleum tile cradled your foot falls as you stepped towards him and urged him backwards with your hand against his chest again, walking in step until he gently hit the counter behind him. George’s eyes bore into yours and the darkness of his pupils kept that lust building inside you until you were sliding a hand up his chest and around the back of his neck and you pulled him closer until your noses brushed. Keeping him waiting, you let the both of you be tortured by the anticipation before your long awaited kiss after your afternoon of passion on Friday.  

But after a few seconds, George had enough of it and he grabbed you by the throat and yanked you closer to get his lips right on yours. You had almost fallen right against his chest at the sudden jarring move but you made no motion to complain, clinging onto him gladly as your lips slotted together messily. You shared sloppy kisses in the silence of his house like you had been deprived of each other for months and months. The way he kissed you was erotic in itself and after a few steamy seconds, you tilted your head back to break away from his persistence. 

“You okay?” he asked breathily. 

You barely offered him an audible response before you were sinking to your knees in front of him and popping the button on his shorts. George shifted in place to stand a bit more comfortably, his hands resting on the edge of the counter behind him as he watched you with his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Glancing up at him as you tugged his pants down, you asked, “This okay?”

“Yeah.” he chuckled warmly and kicked his shorts to the side across the floor, “Can’t remember the last time I got a blowjob.” 

You tisked pitifully and rubbed your hand over the front of his underwear, following the shape of his hardening cock with your gentle fingers, “Poor, poor man.” 

George lolled his head to the side slightly as you touched him, feeling him growing harder with each passing second. His soft pleasurable hums were barely audible but you were extra attuned to him and you looked up his body to his handsome face while your fingers linked in the sides of his boxers. 

“If I was your wife,” you pressed a kiss to his abdomen just above the waistband of his underwear before you started to pull them down slowly, “I would wake you up with one every morning.”

George laughed faintly, “You’re an angel on earth, you know that?” 

You sent him a little wink as you wrapped a hand around his cock and pressed a wet kiss right to the underside of the tip, pulling a soft groan from his chest before your tongue was following suit. Speaking up to him, you assured him sweetly, “And you have the prettiest dick…who wouldn’t want it in their mouth?”

You shared small smiles before you were wrapping your lips around the tip and sucking on him gently, earning your first proper taste of him. Eyelids fluttering, you moaned softly for more before helping yourself, slowly sinking your mouth deeper around him with your hand securely wrapped around the base of his dick. He was such a good size that you had to open your mouth quite a bit to make sure your teeth didn’t graze him and silently you wondered how it even fit inside you that swiftly the other day. 

The excitement of finally having him in your mouth had you drooling and it wasn’t long before your hand was getting slicked up in your spit and it could start to join in on the motions. In slow twisting strokes, your hand kept up the bottom half of his cock while your mouth followed in its pace at the top half, finding a good rhythm together. George exhaled heavily and tilted his head back towards the ceiling, eyes closed, trying to equally focus on the sensations but also distance himself from getting too into it too quickly. 

Positioned on your knees between his feet, you felt so perfectly content, tending to his dick in one hand while your other caressed his thigh and the firm muscles that made up his figure. But soon that hand was moving to join your other and it gently kneaded his balls in your warm palm, eyes glancing up at his face to gauge his reaction. The waver across his expression was paired beautifully with a gentle moan and you took that as your go-ahead. You didn’t need to do much as you just held them with a little bit of grip, your focus being all on his cock instead. 

Your mouth craved him deeper and you nestled yourself farther down his shaft until you were gagging faintly around him and picking back up those greedy bobs of your head. The filthy wet sound filled the otherwise silent kitchen and George let out the prettiest moan you had ever heard while he dropped one hand to rest at the back of your head. You lead your motions with your tongue, making sure to touch him in all the right spots every time you dropped your mouth down around him and pulled back with the perfect amount of suction that had his jaw falling slack. 

“Fuck-” he chuckled shakily, “Do you kiss your husband with that mouth?”

You pulled off of him with a messy slurp, spit dripping down your chin as you answered his rhetorical question with a proud, “I do more to him than just kiss him with this mouth.”

“Lucky fucking man, holy shit.” George groaned. 

“Yeah, you really are.” you spoke up at him from your knees before swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. 

His hand on the back of your head pulled you down on him again smoothly and you gladly picked up where you left off, choking yourself on his cock until he was completely coated in your spit and his face mimicked that of an expression you’d find in a dirty magazine. You swore he could have easily taken centrefold in your eyes; maybe you were the lucky one to be on your knees for him like that. But you still gave him your best work that was guided by his hand in your hair and he kept himself quiet through a bitten lip as the pleasurable sounds started to come a little stronger now. 

Then he was gently tugging at your hair to get you to let up with a breathy, “Stop.”

You sat back from him and coughed faintly from the absence of him in your throat and you wiped your spitty chin with the back of your hand, “What?”

“Get up.” he grabbed your arm and brought you to your feet, “Bend over.” 

The orange countertop of his nearby kitchen island caught you gracefully and you gladly bent forward over it with your forearms against the cool surface. George’s hands worked quickly at the button and zipper on your jeans and yanked them and your underwear down your thighs before stepping right up close behind you. 

“Fuck, please.” you exhaled, trying to look behind you to get a glimpse of him. 

He bent at the knees slightly just to get that perfect angle to nudge the head of his cock against your dripping cunt and the first graze had you absolutely shuttering. He teased you a little more as he dragged it up and down a few slow times, speaking to you, “I can’t wait until Nancy starts school so I can fuck you every day of the week, uninterrupted, where we can be as loud as we want.” 

The realization that he would be wanting and willing to keep up this escapade for that long and thensome had your heart racing and was just enough of a distraction just before he finally pushed inside you. Your hands fell flat against the island with a tight gasp from your throat and George set his hand on your shoulder to hold you steady as he slipped in deeper. His quiet groan was stiff and rich and you felt your muscles throb around him greedily. 

“Yes, please.” you whimpered, even as his other hand wrapped around to press his palm against your mouth. You still managed to mumble against his hot skin, “Please, sir.”

“Oh my God.” he groaned, starting to thrust into you strongly. 

Your hands slid across the smooth countertop to wrap around the sides of the island, gripping onto the edge of the counter tightly as he helped himself to your body. You were already soaked for him and he was dripping in your spit, meaning that right off the bat his otherwise quiet kitchen was privy to the lewd wet sounds of your cunt taking every inch of him with every hard thrust. The reverberations could be felt right up your spine and you gaped against his palm as you stared straight ahead at the fridge on the opposite side of the kitchen, eyes fluttering with the intense pleasure that you had missed so terribly over the weekend. 

You tried to stay quiet but the moans that tumbled from your chest were almost completely involuntary and George’s hand tightened over your mouth and he hushed you over your shoulder. He leaned in close almost enough for his body to mould against the shape of yours while he fucked you over the side of the island.

“Get too loud and I’ll stop.” he threatened against your ear. 

“No.” you choked out, the simple word muffled by his palm. You reached a hand back to grab his waist behind you, trying to make sure he kept going despite his warning. He was already going so aggressive with it that you could hardly get a good grip on him and you ended up having to slam your hand back down against the countertop. “Please don’t stop!” 

“God, you really like it rough, don’t you?” George tisked. 

He let go of your mouth and, instead, wrapped his slender fingers around your throat to yank you back towards his chest. You kept your back arched the best you could still with how you now were forced almost straight up and his heavy warm breaths against your ear and your neck were sending you dizzy. Your fingers magnetized to his hair, tangling in the messy and sweaty strands as if in an attempt to pull him closer into you. The filthy clap of his skin against yours was invigorating, falling in steady rhythm with his rough thrusts that made your toes curl against the linoleum tile and behind a bitten lip, you tried to smother your blissful moans the best you could. 

“He doesn’t fuck you like this, does he?” George taunted against your ear without missing a beat. 

“Not anymore.” you stumbled out.

“Anymore?” George chuckled lowly across your neck, his hand still wrapped snugly around your throat to hold your head back almost against his shoulder, “Could he ever make you feel this good?”

It was hard to think when he was fucking you like that, hard to think back six years when you and your husband were newly acquainted and had the passion of Manhattan and nightlife running through you. It was ages ago now, a lifetime ago even, and it all felt so hazy and muted when George had you like that - it was hard to think of anything else but him. 

“Answer me.” he ordered against your ear, still shoving into you in rough strokes that pulled the air from your lungs. 

“No, sir.” you said squeakily, “He couldn’t.”

“That’s why you come to me.” George spoke lowly, his hot breath tickling your ear and the nape of your neck in time with his precise thrusts, “That’s why you think of me when he’s fucking you.”

“Yes, sir.” you whimpered, gripping onto the sides of the island again, face screwed up in pleasure. 

In a swift movement, he let go of your throat in exchange for a grip at the back of your neck and he pushed you right down onto the island so you were bent over it properly, your cheek pressed against the cool countertop. You gasped sharply in surprise but didn’t object, almost thrilled by the weight of his hands holding you down and the edge of the counter digging into your upper thighs. Giving up control to him was so easy and so ridiculously rewarding, you were already so addicted. 

“Look at us, just fucking using each other.” George spoke down to your through his teeth, his focus narrowed in on the motions of his hips as he rammed into you hard over and over again, “Can’t remember the last time I had a perfect fucking pussy like this to just have my way with.”

“It’s yours.” you stumbled out, “I’m yours.”

“Uh huh.” George’s hand tightened on the back of your neck and his other pressed you stronger down against the counter between your shoulder blades. If you could have seen him, you would have been blessed by the sight of his face taken by intense pleasure, his head tilting back to look up at the ceiling with a mouthed curse in near disbelief. But then he was looking back down at you bent over for him, held down under his hands so willingly, and he audibly moaned, “Fuck, yeah, you’re mine.”

The angle he had you at was so good that you swore you were seeing stars, feeling him in every inch of your body like he was completely taking you over. It was lust to an extent you had never felt before and you could only gape dumbly across the kitchen as he held you down and fucked you until your thighs were quivering. The gasping moan that fell from your chest even took you by surprise as your insides churned with pleasure and you could feel yourself tightening up around him, squeezing his entire cock until that warm pressure that spread across your hips had you drooling. 

“I’m gonna cum-” you warned shakily, knuckles turning white with how tightly you gripped the edge of the countertop. 

“Go on then.” George encouraged. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, don’t stop!” you squeaked, scrunching your eyes shut tightly as it kept building and building inside you. 

George didn’t move an inch as he kept going exactly how you needed even if he was starting to get a little worn from the intensity of it all. His deep groans were invigorating and his hands on your body drew fire across your skin and you kept yourself in the moment with absolute ease. 

You were a messy chant of ‘yes’ and ‘please’ and other unintelligible words you could hardly remember saying. And, when he made you cum, your entire body shuddered against the counter and you bit down onto your own forearm to keep yourself quiet as your eyes literally rolled shut and the sounds poured from your mouth without mercy. George had already been close enough by your mouth so it didn’t take him long to follow after you, sent into waves of pleasure himself by the addicting vice-like grip of your cunt that literally pulled the orgasm from his body. 

He slumped over you a little as he shoved hard into you, his hair falling over his eyes as he came inside you with rich wavering grunts. The feeling of him spurting warmly inside you had you wriggling back on him some more, grinding against his cock to make sure he was giving you every last drop as deep as he could. His hands left your body to set on the countertop on either side of you as he leaned down to kiss your neck softly, humming faintly in the tapering off of his orgasm that he shared with you. 

“Fuck.” you huffed, shuffling your forearms under you so you could get your chest off the counter enough to find his lips with yours over your shoulder for a few breathless kisses. 

“Was that what you wanted?” he teased as he pulled away from your sloppy kiss. 

“Mm, mhm.” you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip to hide your smile, eyes flicking between his gaze and his swollen plush lips. You reached a hand up to pull his face back in for a few more off-centered kisses before he was standing up properly again. 

George carefully pulled out and then shuffled up your jeans for you, giving your bum a little smack over the denim and the surprise had your muscles fluttering enough to feel yourself leaking into your underwear. How dirty and glorious. 

“Do I have your permission to shower off this sweat now?” he asked as he gave your hips a squeeze, letting you catch your breath for a moment as he stood in the nude behind you. 

You stood yourself up straighter too, leaving your hands resting aimlessly on the orange countertop as you replied to him over your shoulder, staring him right in the eyes, “Only if I can join you.”

George’s little smirk that grazed his expression had you turning around to face him and you slung your arms around his shoulders to pull him right up close to you, chest to chest. His hands fell to your waist and he leaned in to pull a few slow kisses from your lips before he answered in a whisper, “Okay.”

Upstairs in the Russell’s bathroom, you found yourself almost too easily dropping your clothes onto the tile floor while George started the water in the shower. He had made sure to lock the door just in case his napping three-year-old woke up from down the hall and came looking for him. The cassette player radio sat on the blue bathroom countertop, the metal antenna angled upwards to gather the radio station signals through the steamy warm air as the shower water grew hotter. The modest bathroom was easily filled with the quiet music of that month’s hits as you stepped into the porcelain bathtub together and George pulled the geometric shower curtain closed behind you. 

Still buzzing from your hookup in the kitchen, you shared grinning smiles as your arms swirled around each other; George taking to your waist and you taking to his shoulders. Your chests pressed together closely until water was building in the crevice between your breasts and his pecs and trailing down your naked bodies. His lips were completely addicting to you and you kissed him with every ounce of passion you had in you, even as he kept up expertly with your eager pace. The radio and the shower muted the sounds of your kisses, sending you into a steamy cloud of white-noise isolation together. 

After a few moments, you pulled away from his plush lips with a sigh, “Is this too domestic?” 

George licked his lips with a sigh of his own and a passive response, “I dunno. I’ve never done this before.”

You smiled, “Me neither.”

“Haven’t gotten my hands on a manual for the right way to cheat on your spouse.” he whispered. 

You tangled your hand on the back of his wet hair and pulled his mouth back on yours for a few more kisses, speaking to him between them, “Is it bad that I don’t feel guilty?”

George’s lips dusted across your cheek, “I dunno.”

“Because it feels good.” you mumbled, tilting your head to the side as he kissed down your neck and your eyes fluttered shut, “It feels really fucking good.”

“Mhm.” 

“Friday was my wedding anniversary.”

His kisses halted on your neck for a moment as your words settled in the steamy shower around you. He lifted his head up to look you in the eye, searching for your feelings in your expression, his mouth formed in a small ‘o’ and his eyebrows furrowed slightly in the middle. You reached up to gently caress the crease between his brows away. 

“I forgot.” you confessed, “Andy brought me home flowers and everything like he always does. He really tried to make me feel special but all I could think about was you.”

“I’m sorry.” George stumbled out. 

You tisked softly and slid your hands down his chest, “What on Earth do you have to be sorry for?”

“I dunno.” he said for the nth time since you stepped in the shower, pulling you closer by your waist as if being chest to chest wasn’t close enough, “I just feel like I need to say it.”

“Well, you don’t.” you promised and leaned in to kiss him once, “I promise.”

“And promise me that if this gets too much that you’ll tell me and we’ll stop.” George insisted politely, “I don’t want to ruin your life.”

“My gosh, and I don’t want to ruin yours.” you tisked, taking his face in your hands to pull him in for more kisses. 

You shared the warmth of the shower water together, kissing slowly under the steady stream, hands roaming naked bodies like it was something you had done for years. You swore that there was no way he could ruin your life. Right there, just how it was, was so perfect. That silly no-strings-attached affair with your neighbour of all people made life feel vibrant and new and worthwhile again. You had once thought that life was beautiful and perfect but it wasn’t until you had a taste of what could have been that you started to see tears in the fabric of your marriage. Maybe there was a way to have the best of both sides. 

You pulled away from George’s lips with one more kiss and you bumped your nose against his, offering in a whisper behind the symphony of music and water, “Turn around. Lemmy wash your back.” 

He let you, facing away from you against the shower wall to give you a trusting view of his naked body. You took the washcloth and soap and lathered him up under gentle hands, caressing each curve of his figure in sudsy circles that the warm water washed away with ease. You kissed the back of his neck and stood right up close behind him so your skin was pressed to his, taking your time on his handsome body to give it the loving attention it so deserved. Your heart thudded heavily in your chest, warmth from more than the steamy shower water ghosting across your skin, and you couldn’t help yourself but wrap your arms around his waist and lean your cheek against his shoulder blade. 

How could something so morally wrong feel so right?

“Two tickets to Crimes of Passion, please.” 

“That’ll be $6.72.”

Andrew shuffled through his wallet to pull out some bills and he slid them through the opening in the glass of the box office. The attendant counted the money and then turned to collect the tickets. As she did, you slid your hand around your husband’s arm and leaned closer to him habitually, thrilled to finally be on an adult-only date with him after so long. One of the older sisters to one of Richard’s teammates babysat in her spare time and it was about time you took her up on that offer. Your steamy fling with the neighbour seemed to have drifted from your mind as you settled into your date night; holding hands in the car and standing close together at the box office. Just a reminder of the simplicity of life and how much you still loved your husband. 

The box office attendant returned the change to Andrew and slid you your tickets with a flat, “Enjoy the show.” 

You thanked her in unison and then Andrew was leading you towards the doors of the theatre. He held the door for you so you could go in first and your hands naturally found each other as you approached the concession stand. Stopping a few feet away on the multi-coloured geometric patterned carpet, you eyed the menu above the counter to decide on what to order. You were so focused that you didn’t notice Andrew staring at you until you were startled by his quick kiss to your cheek. 

Glancing over at him, you chuckled, “What was that for?”

He shrugged, “No reason.” 

You wanted to reply with something flirty until your eye was caught by someone disappearing into the theatre, someone who you swore looked a lot like George. Stunned to silence, you just turned back to the concession stand as your husband guided you by the hand to the cash register. He ordered you a popcorn to share and two Cokes and you also added on a box of sour patch kids gummies. 

Andrew tisked fondly at your order as the cashier totalled it up, “Just like our first date.”

You just leaned into him warmly and rested your cheek on his shoulder. 

Once the snacks were paid for and in your hands, you headed towards the double doors leading into your corresponding theatre as written on your ticket. The trailers were already playing as you entered and the dimly lit theatre welcomed you in. The seats were only about half full and as you started to make your way up the stairs to find a row, someone waving caught your eye. Sure enough, what you had figured was a hallucination was actually reality, as George and his wife were there as well and they were waving you over with smiles. 

You glanced back at Andrew, “Do you wanna sit with them?”

“Sure. I don’t mind.” he nodded. 

You led the way into their row and you all greeted each other politely, your spouses ignorant to the way you and George stared at each other just a little longer. Since you entered the row first, you were in the seat between George and Andrew; a perfect metaphor for your current internal dilemma you were faced with. 

“Fancy seeing you two here.” George greeted as you got settled.

He was holding his wife’s hand on the arm rest between them, unmoving even as you joined them. 

“Great minds think alike.” Andrew replied with a smile, “A good ol’ Saturday kid free night.”

“Did you get a babysitter too?” you asked them. 

“Yeah,” Jennifer nodded, “One of the sisters of one of the boys on James’ baseball team.”

“Us too.” you chuckled. 

“Really great minds then.” George concluded. 

You had to force yourself not to look at his soft smiling lips. You all turned to the screen. 

Once your snacks were arranged and you were comfortable, Andrew tucked his arm around your shoulders and you tried not to think about the way George stared at you as you scooted a little closer to your husband. You were there on a date after all and you hadn’t expected to see him there, yet alone be sitting beside him. 

It wasn’t long until the movie started and the theatre was dimmed into near perfect darkness, illuminated by only the light of the screen and the flickering scenes. Almost right away, the underlying theme of the film was apparent and its ‘R’ rating was very obvious as the salacious plot was layered on thickly. The main character - although a prostitute - was torn between two men who both shared sufficient love scenes with her that had you shifting in your seat. Hitting a little too close to home. 

George nudged you as if sensing your slight unsettledness and when you looked over at him, he held out the yellow box to you with a soft, “Raisinets?”

You smiled fondly at him and reached into the box to take a few, “Thanks.”

When you offered him some sour patch kids in return with a tip of the box, his eyes lit up, “My favourites.”

Jennifer elbowed him from his other side, “Shh.”

Andrew glanced over at the three of you for a second before looking back to the screen, unbothered by you shaking some of the gummy snacks into George’s open palm. Then, you turned back to the movie yourself, munching on your shared handful of Raisinets, comfortable under your husband’s arm. 

It was hard to focus on the movie as every passionate and dark scene that played in front of you had your mind straying, torn between the men you were sandwiches between, although the memories with the one on your left were more recent and much more thrilling. Your brain whispered to you that you and George could have recreated this movie. You shifted again to hush your mind. 

A slight graze against your thigh had you looking down to your lap, only to see George’s hand underneath your shared armrest with his fingers ghosting along the side of your jeans. You licked away your smile at his sneaky move and slowly inched your hand off your lap to join his between the two of you. His pinky brushed against yours without turning his attention away from the film like a real professional and your teeth sunk into your bottom lip to hide your smile as you linked your pinky with his. 

Sizzling electricity flowed between the two of you and you could feel it tingling up your arm. Your small diamond ring on your left hand nudged against his knuckle as if as a reminder of what sins you were committing together. It was all expressed in the film playing in front of you, shoving right in the faces of your oblivious spouses. Your discreet touches were so risky but, like everything you found yourself with George, you couldn’t seem to stop. 

Once the movie was done and the lights were back on, you separated once more and you turned your attention away from each other and to your spouses. Andrew retrieved the empty bag of popcorn from the ground as the credits rolled up the screen and he looked over at you as you collected your purse. 

In a hushed voice, he confessed to you in an amused tone, “That film was so dirty that I swear it almost got me hard in the cinema.”

“Oh my gosh.” you laughed, trying to ignore the near puddle you were sitting in more thanks to your sneaky neighbour than the film, “You’d have to put on your own little movie then.”

Andrew licked away his smile and gave you a little nudge, “Very funny.”

“I’d pay to see it.” you teased as you stood up from your seats. 

He just wrapped his arm around your shoulders again and pulled you close to kiss your cheek and then the corner of your mouth and before he could get your lips, you turned your head to your neighbours smoothly. George was already looking at you and part of you felt embarrassed - embarrassed by the affection of your own husband - but you played it off coolly and asked them how they enjoyed the movie. Jennifer wasn’t crazy about it but George complimented the acting with rave reviews, explaining how it was unlike anything he had seen before as the four of you walked out of the theatre together. 

Andrew could barely be more than a few centimeters away from you the entire walk to the parking lot and when his arm grew tired around your shoulders, his hand fell lazily into yours instead. It was rare that he was so publicly affectionate but you had to admit it was nice - even if you wished George wasn’t there to witness it. It was a strange balance of content and guilt and embarrassment that you forced yourself to pull the positives out of. 

You said goodbye to your neighbours once you had to part ways to your respective cars and you had to stop yourself from habitually moving in to give George a hug. Your mind whirled as you climbed into the passenger seat of your station wagon and Andrew walked around the other side to get behind the wheel. He turned the key in the ignition but let the engine run as he turned to you instead. 

“This was a really fun night.” he confessed. 

You lolled your head to the side to look at him with a small smile, “It really was.”

“We should really do this more often. And if we now have neighbour friends that want to double date, that’s even better.”

You swallowed your pride, “Yeah, for sure.” 

Andrew leaned in and his hand ghosted across your cheek to guide your lips to his, melting into slow tender kisses in the front seat of your family car. You could taste the intent behind his kiss and you smiled against his mouth as he pulled away for a moment. 

“Mm, I need to take you to dirty movies more often.” you giggled, pressing a gentle hand to his chest over the fabric of his tank top tucked under his white denim vest, “I like when you’re all touchy and all hot and bothered.”

“Hot and bothered?” he repeated, thoroughly amused, in that sweet accent of his that just made you pull him in again to kiss your smiling lips. 

You kissed in the front seat of your car for a few moments with hands faintly pulling at clothes and the back of necks, desperate to get impossibly closer. Part of you didn’t even want to leave the parking lot; just willing to throw caution into the wind and pull him into the backseat with you. But, when you made a move to push his vest off, he broke away from your kiss. 

“We gotta go home.” he chuckled. 

“But our kid is at home.” you mumbled with a pout as he straightened himself out in his seat, “I wanna be risky with you.”

Andrew kissed you once more before putting the car in drive and his hand fell to your thigh, “Another time.”

It was always another time. 

Another time didn’t come all week - at least with your husband. While your spouses were at work, you and George certainly made the most of the empty houses the best you could while he still had to watch his daughter. Because of that, you only managed to get together one afternoon (and almost a second before the three-year-old nearly caught you) but that was enough to keep you somewhat satisfied for the week. 

When Friday rolled around, the last thing you had really expected was to be standing in George’s foyer in a party dress. Andrew had a work event that you were actually invited to and you were certainly not going to pass up an opportunity to join him in the city for extra one-on-one time when you could take it. In your periwinkle dress, Richard stood beside you with his small suitcase in hand, ready for his sleepover with James who had just come barrelling down the hallway. The young boys embraced messily and you barely managed to crouch down to get a hug and kiss from your son before he was slipping away to play with his friend. 

“Thanks again for having him stay over.” you said to Jennifer as you stood back up. 

“No problem at all.” she shrugged. Still in her work skirt and blazer, she hadn’t even had a chance to take off her shoes yet upon her arrival home by the time you showed up. “We’re just glad that James has found such a good friend.”

“And one that just lives next door at that.” you chuckled. 

She smiled politely at you and then turned towards the kitchen, calling out, “George! Are you ready? You’re going to make her miss her train at this rate.” 

“Yeah! Coming!” he called back. 

Then, he was emerging from around the corner, half distracted still with a tea towel still draped over his shoulder. 

“Sorry, was just putting the last of the dinner on.” 

Jennifer snatched the tea towel off his shoulder as George got his first look at you. He nearly stopped in his tracks although under the eye of his wife, he had to play it off coolly. You held your clutch purse in your hands and had to look away from him to keep from blushing like it was your senior high school prom or something just as ridiculous. The voluminous periwinkle frills of your sleeveless party dress encircled the top hem across the sweetheart neckline over your chest and around to your back, leaving your collarbones exposed to house a string of pearls. The snug bodice followed the shape of your figure into a stitched V-across your hips where the fabric flowed outwardly into a satin skirt that rested around your knees. 

“Wow, you look amazing.” George complimented passively, although once he walked past his wife to grab his car keys from the small hook beside the door, his eyes were raking shamelessly down your body. 

“Thanks.” you answered softly. 

He turned back to Jennifer, “You most likely won’t need to touch the dinner. It should be ready for me to serve when I get back.”

“Okay, good.” she chuckled and they both leaned in to share a brief kiss. “Drive safe.”

“I will.” George opened the door and ushered you outside first. 

Although Jennifer closed the door behind the both of you before you had even stepped off the porch, you still walked at a bit of a distance from each other towards the driveway and George’s family car. It was still warm from Jennifer’s drive home from the train station that George was now taking you to. 

“Thanks for driving me.” you said as you got in the passenger seat. 

“Of course.” George replied as he turned the key in the ignition, “Anything for you.”

His eyes darted towards his house as if scanning to make sure no one was looking out the windows before he reached an arm around your shoulders and pulled you in for a quick sneaky kiss. 

As you both settled back in your seats with giddy little grins, he complimented again, “And you look so fucking beautiful.”

“Thank you.” you breathed, glancing down at the skirt of your dress that was draped out over your lap in stain waves. Your white heels were resting politely on the floor of his car, your knees together, and your hands folded over your clutch purse like a proper lady. 

George pulled out of the driveway and headed down the street in the direction of the train station and, as you peered out the window at the passing evening neighbourhood, you couldn’t help but try to figure out the feelings that were burning within you. On one hand, you were excited to see Andrew and have this special night with him and have a chance to reconnect as husband and wife, but, on the other hand, you had George beside you who made your heart race like it was the honeymoon phase all over again. As if reading your mind, George reached across the front seat and set his hand on your knee, caressing your skin with his thumb, and the shivers that rose at his touch tingled right up between your legs. 

The train station was mostly emptying as commuters from the city were heading home during the peak rush hour chaos. You were one of the few who were heading into the city at such a late time as the others who were on the same page as you were ready for a Friday night out in Manhattan with their friends. That used to be you. How different life was now. 

George parked and you looked over at each other with calm smiles, his hand giving your thigh a tender squeeze. In the privacy of his car, you leaned in to kiss his soft lips, lingering there for a few seconds before pulling away again. His hand lifted from your lap to the side of your neck as he licked his lips in anticipation and pulled you in for more. You met halfway for a few more close-mouthed kisses with your hands still staying perfectly still on your lap.

When he pulled away, he glanced down at your body, eyes lingering on the strapless dress wrapped snugly around your chest with the frills accenting the sweetheart neckline, “This dress…is unreal.” 

“Think it’s okay?” you asked, reaching up to nudge at some of the frills. 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re gonna be the best looking one there.” George draped his arm around the back of your seat, “But that is usually the case.”

You smiled sweetly at him and leaned in for more kisses, easily locking his lips with yours as the passion in his modest car rose by the second. His hand on your face pulled you in to deepen your kiss, his tongue teasing yours, and when you opened up for him, you shared soft pleasant hums of appreciation. 

“God, your husband’s a lucky fucking man.” George mumbled between kisses, “He better be showing you off tonight.” 

You giggled softly into his mouth, blindly shifting your hand from your lap to his chest and up to his shoulder. His head tilted naturally to the side a little more to deepen your kiss and the way he took control had your insides twirling with desire. Your fingers tangled in the back of his soft hair, tugging gently at the roots to get him impossibly closer, and George moaned softly into your mouth at your insistence. 

He pulled away after a few more seconds with a bite to your bottom lip, “Looking like that and kissing me like this…you’re gonna send me home to my wife with a boner.” 

You smiled proudly and whispered against his lips, “And she won’t even do anything to help.” 

George chuckled lightly and gave you a few more kisses before answering, “No. I’ll have to have a wank in the shower and think of you.” 

You broke away from his kiss with your hand sliding down to his chest to put some more space between you, glancing down to his lap habitually before saying, “I’d offer to just bend over and fix it myself if I didn’t have a train to catch.” 

George’s hand around your neck startled you pleasantly as he tugged you in for more sloppy feverish kisses and your fingers tightened on the material of his t-shirt. He kissed you like it was the last time you were going to see each other, like he wanted to make sure you didn’t forget him, and his tongue helped himself to your mouth between ungraceful impolite kisses. Dizzy from the way he kissed you, when he let you break away, you were panting despite the grin plastered across your face, lipstick slightly smudged and cheeks flushed pink. 

You pulled down the sun visor in his car to clean up your makeup and he watched you with his hand on your thigh as you opened your clutch purse to reapply your lipstick and powder quickly. His hand squeezed your thigh and slid up your skirt and back down tauntingly until you had to nudge him away. 

“I’ll see you.” you said with a smile as you opened the door. 

“See you, gorgeous. Have a good night.” George wished you off as you climbed out of the car. 

You leaned back into the car and pointed a warning finger at him, “Take good care of my boy.” 

He grabbed your finger and pulled you closer to leave you with one more kiss, staining his lips in the fresh application of your pink lipstick, before he promised you with a soft, “Of course.”

You almost didn’t want to leave him but with a final wave through the windshield as you headed towards the station building, you hurried on your way. After buying your ticket and finding your seat on the train, you forced yourself to look forward to the man who was waiting for you at your destination despite the uncomfortable ache that burned between your legs for the man who had dropped you off. Torn between two and managing to play it off, life felt thrilling. 

It was about an hour to Grand Central Station and, as promised, Andrew was waiting for you in the main terminal. You saw him from the top of the stairs, leaning against one of the old stone walls that framed the impressive arched atrium amongst the bustling Manhattan crowd around him. He spotted you at almost the same time and with a warm smile, pushed himself away from the wall to meet you as you reached the bottom of the stairs. 

“There’s my girl.” he greeted sweetly as your hands naturally found each other’s and he gave you a brief kiss before taking a second to admire you in your dress, “You look beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.” 

“Thank you, honey.” you smiled. 

“How was the train ride? Alright?” 

“It was fine.” you kept one hand in his as he started to lead you off through the busy station to the main doors, “How was work?”

“Lowkey, which was nice for once. Just getting set up for the party tonight, mostly.” Andrew said. 

You emerged outside together into the crazy chaos of Manhattan as the sun set behind the skyscrapers and the lights and sounds of the city guided you towards the crosswalk. Standing together on the curb, hand in hand, you scooted a little closer to him and tucked your free hand around his bicep just to be closer. It was thrilling to keep the secret that before you got on the train you were making out with another man in his car and, now, you were the perfect image of husband and wife back in the city where you met. And Andrew was completely clueless. 

“I’m glad you could come.” he spoke to you behind the noise of the city. 

You looked at him fondly, “Me too.”

His office building wasn’t too far away from Grand Central Terminal and after only a brief walk, you found yourselves in the elevator and headed up to the floor. Andrew reminded you about the context of the party - that it was one of the higher up’s retirement party - and he was going to make sure to introduce you around so you knew who was who. It had been a while since you had been around his co-workers and although you knew them somewhat, there was a lot that had changed apparently. 

As promised, once out on the office floor surrounded by nicely dressed employees and a few celebratory streamers and balloons, framed in floor to ceiling glass that overlooked the New York wonder around you, Andrew took you around by the hand and introduced you proudly as his wife to his co-workers. A few recognized you but a few others had to be filled in but were generally nothing but polite. Some of the higher ranking individuals made sure to praise Andrew’s hard work well to you - as if you didn’t already know - to which your modest husband went a little pink in the cheeks and brushed it off with a smile. 

It wasn’t long before the introductions and brief discussion about families and kids naturally fell into conversations about work. By then you had a drink in your hand with your other tucked in the crook of Andrew’s arm as you stood at his side while he chatted. Time and place called for work talk since there wasn’t much else that made sense to talk with co-workers about but you couldn’t help but hide a yawn behind your glass before playing it off with a lengthy sip. The fruity alcohol burned slightly as you finished the last bit in the bottom of your icy glass and your bored mind kept straying to George and what you had gotten up to in his car earlier. Lingering in that unfulfilled puddle of desire, it was easy to transfer that need towards your handsome husband in his collared button up and tie. 

You tugged on his arm gently and when he looked over at you, you whispered to him, “Come get another drink with me?”

Andrew looked back to the small group he had been mingling with, “Excuse us.” 

He took his hand out of his pocket to intertwine your fingers as you walked together across the office floor towards the glass framed conference room where the table was stocked full of drinks and food. There was even a hired bartender that had a cooler with him and could mix up a few simple drinks if you wanted and that was where you went first, asking for a refill on your cocktail while Andrew grabbed a small plate and picked at the snack arrangement of finger sandwiches and vegetables and dip. 

With your drink in hand, you joined him with a sigh, “I’m starving.” 

He offered out a slice of carrot to you and you ate it out of his fingers before he added a few more to his plate, “I got us a few things to share.” 

Your hand slid over his shoulders and down his back and you whispered to him softly against his shoulder and the blue fabric of his button up shirt, “You look so unbelievably handsome tonight.”

Andrew offered you a smile in reply, his brown eyes shining, but before he could answer, everyone was called out to the main office space by the CEO clinking his fork against his glass. The two of you joined the rest of the large group and lingered near the back to share your small plate of snacks while the CEO spoke highly about the retiring individual and all that he had accomplished for the company. 

Although you didn’t care much about the man who was retiring since you hardly knew him, you were there to support Andrew and that’s where your attention lay. Once your plate was empty, Andrew had his arm around your waist to hold you close at his side with his gaze on the speech going on across the office. You set your hand on his back and trailed ghostly twirling shapes up his spine and back down and when he glanced at you, you just smiled softly at him. 

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

You merely nodded and he kissed your cheek. 

The speeches wrapped up not long later and the music was turned louder to really begin the party. Some people even started dancing while most lingered around to mingle and chat and there were more than a few wives in attendance who looked as bored as ever, hearing their husbands drone on about work talk. 

“Andy,” you glanced back at your husband, “can we sneak off for a bit?”

“Sneak off?” he chuckled, “What for?”

You were so obviously staring at his lips but you forced your eyes to his when you made some passive excuse, “It’s just a little loud. Can I see your desk?”

Andrew smiled widely and set the empty plate down on the random desk you had been leaning against together and he took your hand, “Alright. Right this way, my lady.” 

Although the music from the party was played through the office speakers, the farther away from the large group you walked, the less the added noise of conversation interfered with your mind. Across the stretch of the office floor, Andrew led you by the hand towards his desk and weaved through the endless rows of desks and chairs and filing cabinets to get there. Near the middle of it all, he fell to a stop in front of a desk that looked just like all the others with a small chunky Macintosh computer monitor and a neat row of files. 

You helped yourself to his desk chair and you leaned your arms on his desk to admire where he spent more time than he did with you. The framed wedding photo of the two of you was set right in your line of vision and you reached over to pick it up with a smile. You could see the slight bump of growing Richard that was not quite hidden well enough under your white fall dress in the picture taken outside the New York City city hall. Andrew leaned back against his desk beside you, watching you admire all his little belongings he had at his desk to make it feel more personalized and homey. When you set the wedding photo back down, you smiled at the baby picture of Richard right beside it, your little boy sitting happily on the floral couch in your tiny apartment almost four years ago. 

“What do you think?” he asked.

You looked up at him from your spot in his chair, “Very nice.”

“Yeah?”

You glanced at the small box-like monitor in front of you, “You even have a computer!” 

“Really neat, isn’t it?” Andrew tapped the top, “It really speeds up our work sometimes. Truly incredible.” 

“And you have pictures.” you gushed, sliding a hand across his desk again to poke at the wedding picture.

“Of course, I have pictures. I always like having you around.” 

You looked up at him and he lifted a hand up to gently caress your cheek with his thumb, his simple touch swirling that strange mixture of lust and guilt around in your stomach. Searching for a distraction for your mind, you stood up from the chair and situated yourself in front of him, standing between his feet in his dress shoes and his hands found your waist. You leaned against his chest as he was resting back on his desk and your arms draped around his shoulders, letting your lips capture his softly. 

In the quiet corner of the office separate from the rest of the party going on only a few metres away, you kissed slowly at his desk, arms around each other so tenderly. It was so easy to kiss him; you had the history together that made it easy. You moved so well together like it was a rehearsed dance and every move was anticipated, knowing just how he would tilt his head and just about when his hands would move across your waist. His palms took to the curve of your ass over your satin dress and with a gentle squeeze of your flesh, you were moaning softly into his mouth, tugging at the back of his neck to get him to kiss you harder. 

“Okay, sugar,” Andrew chuckled out of your kiss as he turned his head away from you, “We should go back.”

You peppered kisses across his cheek, staining his skin in faint lipstick prints, making your way back to his lips, ignoring his pitch. He kissed you a little longer, pulling you right up against his body greedily as he did, and you could have stayed there for hours. 

“Seriously,” Andrew patted your bum to get you to let up after a few more seconds, “we can’t do this here.”

“Take me to the bathroom.” you pitched, batting your mascara lined lashes at him as your hands dragged down his chest. 

Andrew grasped your wrists in his hands, “We have a whole empty house waiting for us later.”

“But that’s later.” you said, “This is now.”

“This is also my office.” he whispered to you, “My boss can turn the corner at any moment or walk into the bathroom at any moment. We can’t afford for me to lose this job.”

You pouted, “Right.”

“When we get home,” he said against your cheek, “I promise.”

“Do you?” 

It was out of your mouth before you could think about it, sounding so doubtful of his word right to his face, but who could blame you? 

Andrew blinked at you in half surprise and he nodded once, his eyebrows furrowing slightly, “Yes. I promise.”

You pulled a tight smile and nodded back, brushing it under the rug until he would be able to really follow through, and you stepped away from him with your hands falling into his, “Come dance with me then.”

Andrew pushed himself away from the desk with a loving smile and let you pull him back towards the party and the noise of the office. Once you were back amongst the crowd, your hands joined and you moved together to the upbeat music with his co-workers, not unlike how you would share late night dances in Manhattan clubs when you were freshly twenty and freshly met. Only you two in the crowd. Although, your mind couldn’t help but drift to George and wondering what he was doing at that moment. 

When the party was over and you both had enough drinks to be slightly buzzed, you and Andrew returned to Grand Central Terminal to catch your train back home. The coach was quite empty at the late hour it was since not many suburbia-folk were leaving the city at nearly midnight; most were long at home and in bed. Because of this, you had your train car to yourself as it trekked along out of the city and towards the quiet outskirts and the tamer life on the border of Connetiticut. 

Your feet were tossed up on Andrew’s lap beside you and his hand was running up and down your shin carelessly as you stared at each other and eased into the uncomfortable train seats. You broke your momentary silence first with a soft, “Tonight reminded me of when we were younger and cooler.”

Andrew smiled over at you with a playful scoff, “Speak for yourself. I’m still cool.”

“Sometimes.” you humoured him. 

He gently pulled one of your heels off and helped himself to your foot, pressing his thumbs into the sole to give your tired and sore feet a massage. You watched him for a moment, debating delving into a conversation that had been on your mind for a while, but the liquid courage in your system helped to answer that question. 

“Do you miss life before Ritchie?” you asked him. 

Andrew looked up at you again with furrowed brows, “What do you mean? I love our son, I can’t imagine life without him.”

“I know, I know. Me too.” you assured him easily, “I just mean…when we didn’t have the responsibilities we do now. When we could go out - no questions asked - on a Friday night and dance at clubs until we could hardly stand and come back to our shitty little apartment and fuck like rabbits.”

“My God.” Andrew laughed, habitually glancing down the train car as if to make sure no one could hear your confessions. He looked back at you, “I mean, sure, I miss that - it was fun and thrilling and everything - but I don’t miss it more or less than what we have now. We have a family together now, sugar, isn’t that wonderful? A family and a house of our own and you’re my wife. It’s different, but it’s just as good in its own way.”

You looked down, picking aimlessly at the frills along the top of your dress. 

Andrew gave your ankle a squeeze, concern in his voice, “Do you not feel the same?”

“I dunno.” you shrugged, “I am happy. I am so unbelievably happy that we have Richard and that I have you and we have that absolute dream of a house to call our own. That part is so wonderful and I am so thankful for you for working so hard to be able to provide us with all the niceties.”

“But?”

“But I…” you sighed, trying to find the right words. 

Andrew kept his concerned gaze on you, reaching out for your hand to hold reassuringly and you linked your index finger with his over your thighs.

“I miss the passion.” you whispered, speaking to his hand on your lap, “I miss when making love wasn’t just boring old people missionary that lasts three seconds. It’s like we got married and had a kid and now we’re stupid celibate senior citizens or something. It used to be so good. It used to be incredible.”

Andrew had a gentle pout on his face when you finally glanced up at him to gauge his reaction. He rested his head against the train seat, the darkened nature whizzing past behind him through the large windows as he focused all on you, and his other hand caressed your thigh just under the hem of your dress, “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, “You don’t have to say that.”

“I miss it too.” Andrew confessed, “I just…I just feel old now. Almost like moving to this bigger place has completely exhausted me and I feel so guilty for not giving you what you need. Even when you ask for it, I’m so worried about letting you down that I just shut you out instead.”

“You can’t let me down.” you promised, leaning forward towards him to kiss the corner of his mouth before resting back in place in your seat, “I’m trying to be more understanding because I know work demands so much of you and I never want you to feel like it’s a chore.”

“Oh,” Andrew scoffed with a smile, “Sex with you is never a chore.” 

You gave his hand a little tug, “Sometimes it feels like it’s done because it has to, not because we want to. That’s when it feels like a chore.” 

“What can I do?” he asked genuinely. 

You thought for a moment, shamelessly thinking about the prior three weeks with George and all the magical afternoons you shared, while also thinking back to life when you were newly dating and everything was so fresh. You smiled softly at it all before answering, “Be rougher with me.”

Andrew’s worried expression melted into amusement and he turned his head away from you for a second with a smile he tried to lick away before he was looking back at you and his warm brown eyes flicked between your lips and your eyes. 

“Being soft is nice sometimes but…you know how I like it. Be really demanding and rough with me and toss me around.” you slid your foot back from his lap and gently rubbed it over his inner thigh and across the front of his slacks, “And surprise me with it…come up behind me in the kitchen or something. Remember that one time in the apartment?”

Andrew chuckled softly, “Yeah…you broke two plates. The set was a gift from my mum.”

“Yeah.” you laughed faintly, “Make me break more important shit. That’s what I want. That’s the passion I want.” 

“Well,” his hand that wasn’t linked with yours trailed up your shin and back down in ghostly touches as your bare foot rested on his thigh, “we do have the house to ourselves tonight…and I did make a very important promise to you earlier, did I not?”

You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, “Mhm.” 

Andrew leaned towards you slightly, his hand sliding farther up your leg until it was disappearing under the skirt of your dress, “And you are so unbelievably beautiful tonight. Won’t be difficult to hold up my promise.”

You reached out and grabbed his tie and yanked him closer messily by it, forcing his lips on yours in an ungraceful kiss. His hand lifted from under your dress to the side of your neck to hold you close, melting effortlessly into your touch after your years together, sharing in the passion on the empty midnight train. The hints of his promise could be tasted on his lips and tongue and you tugged a little harder at his tie until he was almost completely leaning over you, his hand in yours pulling away to slide along the inside of your thigh and up under your dress, teasing you with ghostly touches that made you shiver. 

The call for your stop through the speaker system interrupted you and you pushed your husband away with a giddy grin and a lick to your lips that were smudged with your lipstick. Just like George’s had earlier, Andrew’s mouth was also dotted in the faint pink hue and you turned your smile away from him at the realization that you had two men completely claimed by you, enamoured by you, and you selfishly were thrilled by the entire concept. 

Andrew followed you off the train and then took your hand for the walk across the darkened and nearly empty parking lot to your family car. You walked right across the empty parking space where George had kissed you goodbye earlier and you swore it rose a shiver up your spine at the mere memory. Since then, you had been absolutely burning for touch and Andrew’s promise lingered in the front of your mind and stayed ever present by the way he nearly pulled you by the hand across the parking lot. 

The drive home was silent apart from the radio and once Andrew pulled into your driveway by the light of the single porch lamp you had left on, your gaze shifted to the neighbour’s house. It was dark, all the lights off and everyone asleep at the very late hour it was. You silently wondered if Jennifer managed to get over herself long enough to put out. 

“Coming?”

Andrew’s voice startled you out of your thoughts as he climbed out of the driver’s side and leaned back down into the car. You only smiled at him and gathered your purse to hurry after him along the front walk and up the stone steps and into your house, letting the door close behind you.

You had barely had a chance to put your clutch purse down on the console table inside the floral wallpapered foyer before Andrew was coming up behind you and wrapping an arm around your middle to pull you right back against his front. Smiling into the entryway of your darkened house, illuminated by only a single lamp left on in the living room, you set your hands over his arm around your waist and his other hand gently brushed your hair over your shoulder so his lips could have access to your neck. You tilted your head to the side slightly to give him room to kiss across your skin, trailing slow open mouthed kisses along your shoulder and right up under your ear. 

“Oh my God.” you chuckled breathily, finally assured that he really was going to keep his promise. 

Andrew’s soft moan against your neck had your mouth falling open slightly, eyelids fluttering as you basked in his warm kisses in all the right spots on your neck, and his hands caressed your hips and around your waist. He pulled you back on him a little harder and you habitually leaned forward just the very slightest amount so you could discreetly rub your ass back against the front of his slacks. 

“That’s it.” he breathed against your ear, hands sliding up your body still tucked in the flattering bodice of the periwinkle dress until he reached your chest. He kept kissing your neck while his familiar hands traced the curve of your breasts over the frilly top of your strapless dress and soon he was pulling it down just enough to reveal your chest to your empty house. 

You reached a hand back to slide around the back of his neck and into the ends of his dark hair, holding his face in your neck as he licked over your soft skin and kissed up under your ear while his hands groped your breasts possessively. The metal of his wedding ring grazed your warm skin and reminded you of your devotion to each other, almost allowing your neighbour to be completely forgotten from your mind. It was easy to not think of anything else when your handsome husband was moving slowly with you, grinding on each other until you were falling breathless, not unlike how you spent a lot of Friday nights in the clubs of Manhattan before responsibilities took over. 

But then he was grabbing your arm and pulling you a few steps over to the open entryway into the living room and he situated you to face the wall, forcing your hands up against the drywall. You leaned your forearms against the flat surface so you could bend over a little more for him, wiggling your ass back against his crotch again. His hand came down in a precise smack against your ass over your dress and you sunk your teeth into your bottom lip in anticipation. 

“This what you wanted?” he asked lowly. 

In the dimly lit house, you were attuned to the sound of his belt being undone and your insides pulsed with desire at what that simple sound implied. 

“Yeah.” you exhaled in response to his question. 

Your dress was bunched up around your waist next and your husband tugged your underwear down until they rested around your ankles and he stepped up close behind you. His left hand then went around your neck and you hummed contently at his touch, letting him pull your head back enough for him to kiss along your jaw, while under the fabric of your dress you could feel him nudge the head of his cock against your dripping cunt. 

When he pushed inside you steadily, your mouth fell open at the warm pressure it pushed across your hips and his hand tightened slightly around your throat. Andrew’s soft moan against your ear was igniting and you reached a hand back again to pull him in for a kiss by the back of his neck. Your tongues met first in off-centered kisses that moulded into your rehearsed dance of swollen greedy lips just as he started to thrust into you properly. Still in your heels, you spread your legs a little wider over the foyer floor, bending forward towards the wall to get him deeper. 

“Fuck.” Andrew huffed stiffly, taking his hand from your throat for a grip on your shoulder while his other tried to push up the satin skirt of your dress out of the way. He gave you another light smack to your bum before grabbing a snug handful of your flesh as if to tug you back into his precise strokes, “Just want me to take what’s mine, huh?”

“Yeah.” you exhaled dreamily, lifting your forehead from the wall to turn towards the living room instead, letting your soft pleasant moans tumble from your lipstick-smudged lips. 

“My God, you feel incredible.” he groaned, fucking into you a little harder, a little faster. 

Once so distracted by him, your attention soon focused on the single lamp in the adjacent living room that cast a warm glow over the carpeted floor and floral couch. Your memory served you well as you thought of your first afternoon with George when he took you into that very same living room and changed your world. You could almost see it now, too, as you stared at the couch, watching you and your neighbour engage in such unspeakable acts while your husband was away at work. Now, said husband was very much present, nestled deep inside you where George had once been, his hands all over your body and his lips meeting your neck again in hot wet kisses. 

“Andy…” you breathed. 

He rested a hand against the wall you were leaning forward against, taking you over in strong thrusts that nearly had your legs struggling to stay steady underneath you. If it weren’t for the familiar scent of his fading cologne, you would have so easily fallen into the mindset that he was George and you knew you needed to get away from the living room before it ruined your night.

“Andrew…honey.” you tried again, grasping his wrist. 

He slowed, heavy breaths falling against your cheek, “You okay?”

“Yeah, I just…” you pushed yourself away from the wall a little which had you backing stronger into him, pulling a small grunt from his chest, “I wanna go upstairs. Want to get out of these stuffy clothes and get my hands on you properly.” 

Without a word, Andrew pulled your head back against his shoulder and his lips found yours in sloppy kisses, hands trailing your body before he was guiding you away from him, letting his dick slip out of you, “Okay. Go on then.” 

You stepped out of your underwear around your ankles and left them on the floor as your priority was turning around long enough to grab him by his tie so you could pull him after you to the nearby staircase. The living room lamp was left on in your rush upstairs, the darkened second floor welcoming your hurried footsteps across the wood floor and into your shared bedroom that was blessed by the faint light of the street lamps outside your front windows. 

You switched on your bedside table lamp and when you turned back to your husband, he was already kicking off his dress shoes and shoving down his pants to the floor. To save time, you helped him to loosen his tie and start on the buttons on his shirt and as you did, his hands slid around your body to unzip your dress. Neither of you had to share a word as your lust for each other took control, breathily heavily together in the comfort of your empty home under familiar touches of your spouse. 

When you pushed Andrew’s shirt off his shoulders and it fell to the floor, you ordered him firmly with an excitable grin, “Get on the bed.”

He obeyed you easily and sat on the side of the bed so he could shuffle himself backwards to the middle and he situated himself back against the headboard, draped out naked for you. His hands went behind his head as he watched you leave your dress in a puddle on the floor and his habitual lick to his lips as you joined him on the bed, naked apart from your pearl necklace, had you smiling cheekily. 

“How do you want me?” he asked. 

As he tried to move from his spot, you pressed a hand against his chest to stop him, “Like this.”

You tossed a leg over his lap and then spit into your hand so you could reach down and stroke his dick before angling it properly against your cunt. The look on his face was erotic, staring wide-eyed at your hand on him with his bottom lip held snugly between his teeth. And when you sank down on him slowly, his jaw fell slack, face fluttering in pleasure, and he let out the sweetest moan you had heard from him in a long time. 

“Oh my God.” he exhaled. 

You adjusted your position a little with your feet anchored flat on the mattress on either side of him so you were squatting over his lap and when you started bouncing, his breath caught in his throat. At the pace you set, the erotic clap of your skin filled your bedroom and certainly reached out into the hallway through your open bedroom door; the joys of an empty house were not to be taken lightly. It had been honestly years since you had been on top of him like that and Andrew had been so focused on work and the boring side of life that he forgot how much he had once enjoyed it. 

His big brown eyes stared at you like he didn’t want to look at anything else for the rest of his life, hands resting faintly against your thighs to let you do it yourself, gaping up at you in near awe. But the sounds he made were enough to make your heart race. You hadn’t heard him whimper like that for who knew how long and with the house being empty, he wasn’t worried about being too loud. 

“Fuck, baby.” you choked out, anchoring yourself against his chest with both hands as your knees ached underneath every bounce of your hips. 

“Yes.” he whimpered, his face screwed up in handsome pleasure, dark features shadowed by the warm light of the lamp, “Yes, yes, fuck-”

The broken moans and whimpers that tumbled from his swollen lips were addicting, wavering as if he were near tears, and they only grew louder and more insistent as you kept going, bouncing on his lap harder, faster, until his head was tossing back against the pillows. He moaned richly to the ceiling, eyes squeezing shut, struggling to catch his breath, and his hands tightened on your thighs until you swore he was pressing indentations from his nails into your flesh. 

“Knew you missed it too.” you said cheekily down to him as you stopped your motions to grind right down on him. 

Andrew reached a hand behind him to grab onto the pillow, still whining through your shared bedroom as you flicked your hips back and forth messily on his lap. He panted underneath you, staring up into your eyes with unmissable lust spread all over his face, and you just had to move back into those greedy bounces to watch how his expression withered under your control. He turned soft so easily when you took over, unlike George who always seemed to have the upper hand even when you didn’t expect it. The thought of George had your eyes squeezing shut to try and keep him out, striving to focus on your husband underneath you and the pretty sounds that he let out. 

His fading accent always seemed to get thicker like that, laced into his words more strongly than normal, especially with how his voice whimpered, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit-”

“You’re so fucking gorgeous.” you groaned softly, “Wanna make you cum so bad.”

It was as if that line alone flipped a switch in him, reminding him who had been the one to initiate the night after all, reminding him that it was your desires that spurred the need for making the most of this empty house. Andrew sat up under you quickly and wrapped an arm around your back to keep you against him even as he flipped you both over, trapping you underneath him smoothly. Your gasp froze in your chest as he pinned your wrists down beside your head and started fucking your properly without wasting a second. 

The air left your lungs for a moment in surprise and you could only gape up at him dumbly for a moment, even as he stared right back down at you with those beautiful brown eyes that you had fallen so deeply in love with. When your brain finally caught up, you heaved for breath in a gasp that was laced in so effortlessly with a moan, head tossing back against the bed with your hands bunching into fists from where he had you held down. 

“That’s it.” Andrew praised from above you. “That’s more like it, huh?”

“Fuck!” you squeaked, “Holy shit, yeah, that’s what I want!” 

“Yeah?” he chuckled breathily, keeping up that same pace and same angle just to watch how your face contorted in pleasure. 

“Choke me.” you begged, “Please, please choke me.”

He let go of your wrists so he could set both hands around your throat, remembering just what you liked from those wild Friday nights in your early twenties. You grasped onto his biceps as he kept his arms straight, your nose scrunching up slightly as that warmth grew inside you so quickly and you linked your ankles together behind his back to keep him close. He was suddenly easily comparable to George with how quickly he was getting you there and, of course, that thought that passed your mind brought you right back to your neighbour’s house when he would rock your fucking world mid-week. 

As your eyes shut tightly and your jaw clenched your mouth into a pulled tight line, your mind filled with images and memories of the man next door, almost taking Andrew’s heavy breaths and handsome moans as his. He was just doing everything right that you were getting dizzy, moaning uncontrollably through your bedroom even as the bed squeaked underneath you and the strength your husband was putting out for you. The world easily fell away, hovering you in a blissful world of isolated pleasure. 

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

It was out of your mouth before you could think, running on pure instinct, initially unaware that you let the title only reserved for George slip past your lips when addressing your husband. Andrew groaned heartily and cluelessly from on top of you, his dark hair falling over his forehead and his hands tightening a little more around your throat. 

“Fuck, that’s it.” he said through his teeth, “Cum for me.”

You were right there, so close, desperate to feel those addicting waves of pleasure tear through you. But you were stuck there, lingering right on the precipice, and you desperately reached down to rub at your clit while your husband fucked you into your bedsheets and your mind pictured George all around you. Your moans grew higher and more desperate, your body tensing. 

“That’s it, that’s my girl.” Andrew egged you on breathily from over top of you, still shoving into you hard, “Cum for me. Come on.”

George would have dirty talked you right into orgasm and you let the words he once spoke to you take up your mind, letting him talk you into it even from a distance, and in seconds you were falling into that quiver worthy orgasm. It shook right through you, arching your back off the bed and you cried out through the warm air of your bedroom as your fingers pressed into the flesh of Andrew’s bicep. It was a miracle you didn’t moan George’s name when you came from how much he took over your mind in order to get you there but you still slung your arm around your husband’s shoulders and pulled him down on top of you. 

“Fuck.” he groaned into your neck, embracing you closely even as his thrusts turned faster and sloppier. 

You just had to tighten your legs around his waist, ankles linked and locking him in, although you didn’t need to beg much at all because he made no move against your limited strength to pull out. He came inside you strongly, grinding into you in precise strokes that had you clinging onto him around his shoulders and your fingers tangled in his hair. You shared in the bliss together in a tangle of sweaty limbs and soft pleasurable sounds. Part of you was so caught up in the fantasy that you were almost startled when the man on top of you leaned back from your embrace just enough to look you in the eye and it was Andrew and not George. But you played it off with a smile and he kissed you a few times, giving you both a second to ease out of the waves of pleasure that had just taken you over. 

“That was absolutely unreal.” Andrew breathed as he shifted off you and laid at your side, draping an arm across his forehead as you both stared up at the ceiling and tried to catch your breaths. He glanced over at you, “Was that okay?”

A smile perked at your lips, trying to ignore the guilt that bubbled within you over the fact that you still couldn’t get George off your mind, and you told your husband softly, “That was fucking amazing.”

He grinned and rolled over to kiss you once before he was getting up, “I’m so exhausted.”

“I need a shower.” you stated and got up after him, reaching behind your neck to unclasp your pearl necklace. 

“This late?” he questioned as he retrieved a pair of underwear from his dresser drawer. 

“Yeah? I have train germs and cum all over me.” you pinched his hip on the way past and dropped your necklace onto the surface of the dresser.

“Oh, hardly all over you.” Andrew called after you playfully as you disappeared into the ensuite bathroom, “I was very organized in my delivery, thank you very much.” 

“Truly. I am most impressed.” you responded over the sound of the water once you turned the shower on. 

You stepped into the shower and let the warm water caress your body, your eyes staring unblinking to the tile wall, wondering where you went wrong in life to find yourself in such a predicament. You had the best husband you could have possibly asked for, who was willing to listen to you and do whatever you wanted, and yet you still couldn’t be properly satisfied without thinking of another man. The water was turned hotter until it made your skin turn red, burning the reminder of your own filthy shortcomings from your conscious. 

When you closed your eyes in the heat of the shower, the water washing away the day and the essence of your husband leaking down your inner thighs, all you could think about was George’s hands on your skin, his body pressed against yours in the shower stream, and the yearning to have something that wasn’t yours. 

November 1984

Richard looked so small carrying his baseball bag over his shoulder, the body of the bag nearly dragging along the gravel parking lot as he trudged towards the baseball field all set for his big end-of-season tournament. Every time Andrew tried to offer to carry his bag for him, he was met with a very determined ‘no’ from the five-year-old until finally your husband gave up and you shared the responsibility of watching your son figure life out on his own. As always, you proudly carried the cooler full of snacks for the team, making the most out of the last game until next year. 

The November air of New England was growing cooler now and the trees were starting to change into their brilliant autumn hues of orange and rich red. Although it had only been a few weeks since you had moved into your new house, nearing three months, the days seemed to speed by - and only more so when you had your neighbour to keep you company while your spouses were at work and your kids were at school. 

Said neighbour greeted you with a smile when your little family approached the baseball diamond and he crouched down to offer Richard a fistbump, “All ready for today's big game, all star?”

“Yeah!” Richard grinned back at him, bumping his little hand against his. 

“Yeah, we’re gonna kick some butt, aren’t we?”

“Gonna kick butt!” Richard agreed excitedly. 

George stood back up and ruffled Richard’s dark hair, “That’s the spirit. Now go on and get warmed up with the team.” 

Lugging his bag with him, Richard struggled to run over to the team bench where the other little boys were goofing around in the dirt. As always, George and Andrew shared polite handshakes in greeting and you shared pleasantries with your neighbour not unlike how anyone else would. 

“By the way, you both are still coming to the barbeque after the game, right?” George asked, “Most of the team already RSVP’ed but I figured since you don’t have far to travel, that it would be a given to see you there.”

“Of course. Wouldn’t miss it.” Andrew answered. 

“Did you want us to bring anything?” you asked politely. 

“Just your beautiful selves.” George grinned at the both of you, his lingering glance at you in particular going unnoticed by your husband, “I already have everything ready to go.”

“Think it’s going to be a big celebration?” Andrew asked, “Our team has been pretty good recently.”

“Oh, yeah.” George set his hands on his hips with a playful scoff, “I have no doubt our boys are gonna win. But either way, it’s been an incredible season so there will be something to celebrate regardless of today’s outcome.” 

You couldn’t help but stare at him in his blue jeans and navy blue and yellow team t-shirt, the matching branded baseball cap sitting on his head and his biceps causing the short sleeve shirt to pull tight around his arms. With a lick to your lips, you forced your eyes away from him and looked out towards the field where the opposing team was getting into their positions. 

“We should let you coach.” you told him, “I will see you at break with the snacks.”

George sent you a smile and a friendly wink, “Looking forward to it.”

Then, you followed Andrew towards the metal bleachers that were packed with other parents and family members who had come to watch the final game of the season. Some of the other mothers whom you had grown somewhat close to over the season had saved you a spot and you and Andrew sat amongst friendly faces that seemed so common in your quaint neighbourhood. It was barely even mid-morning but you were already feeling tired and you watched the game set up in silence, half-listening to the other women chat together while Andrew busied himself with gossip with the other fathers. 

Baseball games were always a great way for you to pass the time as you could often stare shamelessly at George while making it look like you were watching your son. Of course, Richard took up the majority of your thoughts but his handsome coach was a close second. That day was no different. 

As anticipated, their team won the final game of the season - and thanks to Richard’s last home run that brought two boys back to home plate. You and Andrew literally jumped out of your seats cheering as your son ran around the bases with a huge grin across his face and even George was cheering loudly from the team bench. All the little boys ran into the centre of the field for a big group hug and then they were lined up to shake hands with the opposing team to show their good sportsmanship. 

The first thing that Richard did when he ran off the field was make a beeline straight to you and you dropped to your knees to welcome him into your arms as he shouted, “Mommy! Daddy! Did you see me?!”

“Oh my gosh, we sure did! That was so amazing!” you gushed, holding him close. 

“Talk about kicking butt, Rich, that was incredible!” Andrew added, couching down for a high five to which your son smacked his little palm against his. 

“We are so proud of you!” you finished as you pulled away from your hug to hold Richard’s grinning face in your hands. 

But then he was wiggling out of your grasp with a passive, “Thanks!”

He was of the age where his friends were growing in importance and you watched him rush back over to his team to celebrate in their youthful exuberance together. Andrew set his hand on your shoulder and, as you stood up, it slid down to your back so he could pull you close and press a kiss to your cheek. 

“He’s getting so big, huh?” you smiled fondly. 

“Sure is.” Andrew rested his head against yours. 

You nibbled faintly on your bottom lip with an ache in your heart rising to the surface. Richard definitely was growing up and that just meant more and more of a reminder that your first and last baby was slipping through your fingers. You wanted another so badly but maybe it just wasn’t written in your cards. 

The post-tournament barbecue was held in the backyard of the Russell’s house and all the families of the boys on the team gathered to celebrate the winning game and the successful season. Carrying little plastic trophies, the boys ran around the backyard together in their baseball uniforms and pretended to fight each other with the trophies as makeshift lightsabers. Meanwhile, the sisters of the team - some slightly older and some slightly younger - played on the swingset and around in the grass and tried to not get stomped on by their adrenaline swelled brothers. 

The parents lingered on the spacious back patio and you and Andrew had taken to one of the outdoor couches with cold drinks in hand, chatting amongst the group although both of you tended to listen more than talk. Well, you weren't doing much listening either because across the patio stones was the barbecue where George was grilling up the hot dogs and hamburgers in only his jeans and a white tank top, still with that darned baseball cap sitting over his frazzled hair. With the glass bottle of your Coca-Cola resting against your pursed lips, you stared at him shamelessly, taking in the muscles of his bare arms and the shape of his body that, in private, you were very familiar with. 

Jennifer walked out of the back door of their house with a plate of fruit and dip and on her way past, George stepped back from the barbeque to reach a hand out to stop her. She stopped expectantly but when he went in to kiss her cheek, she pulled a frown and stepped away from him, muttering something to him that you couldn’t make out from your distance. George’s eyes followed her to the outdoor table where she placed the spread and then he was staring right at you. Neither of you made any expression to each other or any indication of what was going on in your heads and he just turned back to the barbeque with a quick adjustment of his hat. 

You turned to Andrew at your side, his arm still comfortably around your shoulders, and you set a hand on his chest to get his attention, “I’m gonna see if they need help with lunch.”

His sweet brown eyes followed you as you stood up, letting his hand linger in yours for a moment longer, “Alright, love.”

With your Coke bottle in hand, you walked across the patio stones to the smoking barbecue and you situated yourself beside George, “Need any help?”

He smiled softly at you, “Nah. I got this handled.”

You glanced around discreetly before speaking quietly, “Saw her dodge your kiss.”

George scoffed with a shake of his head, his attention focused on flipping the burger patties on the grill, “Yeah. Embarrassing, huh? How revolting I must be to have my own wife not want to kiss me.”

“Hardly revolting.” you countered. “In fact, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

He glanced over at you and licked away his smile, “Brave of you to come over here and flirt with me with all these people around.” 

You gaped in mock offence, “I am not flirting.”

“Oh really?”

“I am merely stating the obvious.”

“Which is?”

“That your arms right now look like you could really throw me around and show me a good time.”

“If you’re good, I can prove that to you later.” 

“I’m always good.” 

George’s gaze dropped to your lips for a split second before he was looking back to the barbeque with a small clear of his throat. You tried not to stare at him for too long but it was hard when he looked so good, somehow looking just as warm and delicious as ever even in the slight breeze of the autumn air. Looking back across the patio, Andrew felt your eyes on him and he looked at you in return, raising his hand up for a little wave. You smiled lovingly at him for a moment before focusing back on George’s grilling and the way his hands worked those tongs like a masterchef. 

You pushed yourself away from the barbecue with a quiet, “I’m going to see if your prudish wife needs help inside.” 

“Okay.” George laughed, physically restraining himself from smacking your ass on your way off. 

Jennifer was inside the kitchen through the single back door, hurriedly arranging the burger toppings onto various plates for people to serve themselves from. At the sound of the door opening and you stepping inside, she glanced up for barely half a second before her attention was back to her work. 

“Was wondering if you needed any help.” you asked. 

“Yeah, can you take these out to the table?” she thrust a stack of paper plates and napkins at you without so much as a look, “Thanks so much.” 

You pulled a tight lipped smile in reply and turned on your heel to leave just as quickly as you had entered. As requested by your gracious hostess, you arranged the plates and napkins on the large glass outdoor dining table and made sure there was going to be room for all the food. Some of the serving dishes were already out there as neighbours had brought some side dishes and you began unwrapping the saran wrap from the top of the bowls of potato salad and coleslaw. 

Only moments later, George came up beside you with the platter of hamburgers and sausages and he excused himself politely to squeeze past you but still managed a faint graze of your waist on his way that sent shivers up your spine. Jennifer finished bringing out the rest of the condiments and toppings including buns and soon the crowded backyard was all piled around the outdoor table to eat away the excitement of the morning. The hostess was desperately trying to keep some semblance of order as the children rempaged the table and the adults were not much different. Andrew helped Richard to get his burger all dressed up and although you were sure George’s grilling skills were wonderful, you didn’t feel very hungry. For once, it wasn’t due to guilt. 

Standing out the outskirts of the distracted party, you lingered with an empty plate in your hand. George suddenly appearing beside you startled you slightly but his hand on your back eased you quickly. 

“Not eating?” he asked. 

“Not really hungry.” you answered without tearing your eyes away from your husband and son. 

George grabbed your wrist and leaned in to whisper, “Come with me.”

Completely trusting of him, you let him pull you into the house through the back door and you discarded your unused plate onto the kitchen island as you swept right past it. You didn’t even have time to take off your shoes as he led you down the hallway and right around to the carpeted stairs, nearly taking them two at a time. This wasn’t new and you could tell exactly what his obvious insistence was hinting towards but it had always ever been when your spouses were far away in the city. This was risky. 

“George.” you whispered sharply as he rounded the corner at the top of the stairs and pulled you down the second floor hallway. 

He helped himself to one of the doors near the end of the hall, turning the handle and walking right into his bedroom. You had never stepped foot in that room before and part of you didn’t even want to walk over the threshold but he was persistent and he yanked you in after him until you were stumbling against his chest. The wallpapered master bedroom could barely be offered a second of your attention as George swallowed your lips up with his, kissing you like he hadn’t felt real human touch in years. His skin was beautifully warm and he still smelt like the charcoal from the barbeque and the sweat from the baseball game, the complete essence of masculine energy that made you weak. 

“George,” you mumbled against his lips, raising your hands to cradle his face, “we can’t do this.”

He didn’t seem to care as he kicked off his sneakers and knocked his hat off his head, letting it fall to the carpeted floor with a dull thud. Despite your protesting words, you were still the one who yanked him in by the back of his neck for more greedy kisses, shoving your tongue against his until he was moaning into your mouth and you were kicking off your shoes yourself. 

“We can’t do this.” you repeated between kisses as his hands pulled your shirt over your head and then went right to the button on your jeans as his lips trailed messy kisses down your neck. Your eyes caught on the window across the room, the sheer curtains still allowing the rustling trees of the backyard to be visible and if you focused, you could hear the muffled chatter of the party down below on the patio, laced in with music from the radio. You clung onto him tightly, using the last ounce of ethics in you, “Our families are just out that window in the backyard-”

But he shut you up with another kiss, his large hand tangling in the back of your hair to pull your lips on his so strongly that you swore your knees almost went weak. Your arms tossed around his shoulders as he shoved your jeans down your thighs and you blindly shimmied them off and kicked them away. George lifted you right off the ground and carried you over to his bed only a few short steps away and he dropped you down on the floral duvet and soft mattress. 

You scooted farther to the middle, not bothering to process the fact that this was the bed he shared with his wife every night because he was standing in front of you and peeling off his tank top and unbuckling his pants. Your teeth captured your bottom lip as he dropped them to the ground, denim pooling around his ankles, leaving him entirely bare in front of you for the uncountable time since you moved into that quaint house next door. 

“Gotta be quick.” George joined you on the bed, glancing back over to the door to make sure he had locked it before he was tapping your thigh to get you to move. You shifted out of the way and he laid himself down on the bed properly before he was grabbing your leg to guide you back over to him. You weren’t sure exactly what he wanted you to do but then he was situating your body to straddle his face and your eyes went wide. This was new. As if reading your mind, he offered an explanation while his warm hands rubbed up your thighs to your hips, “I’m gonna go fucking crazy if I wait any longer to eat your pussy.”

Before you could reply, he was wrapping his hands around your thighs and pulling you down onto his mouth, letting you settle down right on his tongue. Your mouth fell open through a shaky gasp at his first touch and your hands bunched into fists in the air, unsure where to even touch. George moaned up against you as he licked his way into your body, his eyes fluttering open to gauge your reaction. Your stiffness had him chuckling and he turned his head to kiss your thigh. 

“Put your hands in my hair.” he instructed, “Or on the headboard. Whatever you want.”

You dropped your hands down to rake through his tangled hair that was slightly dotted with sweat from the long morning in the autumn sun and his hands on your thighs slid up your hips to start to rock you on his mouth. You soon caught on and you kept up those movements yourself, grinding on his mouth and tongue with your hands snug in his hair. 

“Oh my God.” you exhaled, eyelids fluttering. 

“Have you never ridden someone’s face before?” George mumbled up against you and when you shook your head, he gave your bum a little smack with a casual, “Your husband is missing out.”

“Shut up.” you tugged at his hair to get his mouth back on you, nustling yourself down on his tongue a bit harder. 

George chuckled lowly as he groped your ass and lapped at your pussy with his warm wet tongue, working with the movements of your hips. It certainly wasn’t the first time you had his mouth between your legs but being able to set the pace yourself was unreal and you gaped at the wall in front of you and you ground yourself on his mouth harder, faster, fingers tugging at his hair. He only encouraged you on with pleasurable moans against your pussy, trying to keep up with your motions until you were just smearing your liquids all over his face. 

His hot breath against your skin was shiver-worthy and his hands only ignited your sense ten-fold as he reached up to grope your breasts and pinch your nipples. You pulled one hand out of his hair to set on his chest behind you for added stability, trying to smother your sounds through a bitten lip just in case someone was close enough to hear. But the house was perfectly empty with everyone distracted in the backyard, meaning only George was privy to the sounds of pure erotic pleasure that tumbled from your lips. 

Your clit was aching against his tongue and he tended to it generously, eyebrows furrowing with pleasure as he had you falling into bliss on top of him. His name coming from your mouth was the sweetest sound like that’s where it was meant to be and soon it came over and over again like a chant, gradually getting higher and needier. Your hand in his hair tugged harder as your hips moved faster on his mouth as if you were just completely using him, feeling erotically prioritized like never before. You were dizzy. 

No, really, you were actually dizzy, and once you clued into the way the room spun around you a little, you slowed to a stop. Your legs were quivering on either side of his head and George - not wanting to waste time - took that opportunity to switch positions and roll you over onto your back with him in his rightful place on top of you. 

“You okay?” he chuckled softly, noticing your wide blinking eyes. 

“Yeah. Got a little dizzy there for a second.” you confessed, sliding your hands up his biceps. 

“Wanna stop?” he asked. 

“No.” you answered almost too quickly. “I’m fine.”

With the muffled sounds of the guests and the music outside, George angled the tip of his hard cock against your messy pussy, dragging it between your slick folds a few times before plunging it steadily inside you all the way. Your head dropped back against the pillow that smelt like him, offering him the sweetest groan to the ceiling. 

“That’s it.” George exhaled, shifting slightly to grab your legs and he pushed them back towards your chest. With his thumbs hooked in the backs of your knees, he had you nearly folded in half, giving him a perfect unobstructed view he started to thrust into you. 

Your hands grasped the pillow on either side of your head as he fucked the sweetest sounds from your chest. Every single time he always knew just how to treat you and it never got old; it only ever made you crave him stronger, addicted to the way he could fuck you like no one else could. On his knees for you, his thrusts were slow but hard, shoving into you roughly each time until the headboard was almost hitting the wall in time with the rhythm. 

“How’s that?” he asked you, gaze unwavering from yours. 

“Faster.” you begged, “Faster, please, sir.” 

“Yeah? Want me to make you cum and send you back to your husband with my cum dripping down your thighs?”

“Yes, sir.” you nodded, voice breaking slightly as he started to fuck you faster. Your mouth dropped open and your eyes nearly rolled back, letting out a jagged moan to the ceiling with your knuckles turning white from how you gripped the pillow case. 

“Yeah, you’re my dirty fucking slut, aren’t you?” he removed his left hand from your leg to wrap his fingers around your throat, pinning you down snugly to his bed, ordering, “Hold your legs open for me…let me in as deep as I can go.” 

You let go of the pillow to grab a hold of your legs, pulling them towards your chest by the backs of your knees. Staring up into his eyes, it felt like heaven. The way he treated your body felt like pure erotic heaven. Nothing had ever felt so good before him and you swore nothing would ever feel that good after him. 

“Good girl.” George praised through his teeth, making a beautiful harmony with the wet squelch of your cunt taking his aggressive thrusts and the bed squeaking underneath you. “Good fucking girl…I want you to cum for me.”

“Yes, sir.” you whimpered, watching closely as he lifted his right hand to slip his thumb in his mouth before dropping it down to rub at your clit. Your mouth fell open with a whiney gasp, eyes struggling to stay open as the intensity tore through your body. All you could manage out was a faint chant of “yes, yes, yes” as you felt the warmth building inside you. 

George’s handsome groans were a struggle to hold back too and you could see the way his jaw clenched behind the bite to his bottom lip as he tried to hold back. But you and him were a red-hot mix, unbelievably passionate, like you were two halves of a whole, and it was impossible to slow down together. 

So you came together, like perfect harmony, clinging onto each other with limbs tangled on top of bed sheets, sweaty bodies meshing as one, and you never wanted to let him go. It nearly brought a tear to your eye as you shuttered in his arms and came around him, squeezing him so tightly that he let out the richest moans against your neck as he curled into you. With a few more strong thrusts from your handsome neighbour, you were mouthing a blissful swear word to the ceiling as you felt him coming deep inside you like he always did. 

As if hit by a sudden streak of clarity, your momentary pleasure dropped off into shocking realization. Playing it off, you still offered George a smile and a kiss as he shifted off of you and right away he was reaching for his underwear. You had a party to return to, after all. 

So you forced yourself to your feet as well and got dressed alongside him, happily accepting his kisses before he walked you to the door. The moment you reached the end of the hall together and the top of the stairs - George tucking his hat back on his head - Jennifer turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs. 

“There you are.” she said, “Where were you?”

You kept walking down the stairs as casually as you could, trying not to let the quiver of your legs show too much. George answered for you, “She wasn’t feeling well so I showed her the bathroom and got her some ibuprofen.” 

“Just needed a second.” you said with a tight smile to his wife, “Nothing serious.” 

She nodded faintly, leaning on the handrail as you drifted past her and she turned her attention to George, “I need help cleaning up.”

“Yeah, of course.” 

The three of you emerged from the house together and you habitually smoothed down your hair as you approached Andrew and a few of the other parents. Your husband smiled at you warmly and slid his arm around your waist with a kiss to your cheek, “There you are. Where’d you run off to?”

“Just the bathroom.” you said softly, unable to even feign a smile. 

Andrew stared at you for a moment, assessing your melancholy expression, and he rubbed your back and leaned in closer to check in, “You okay?”

You pulled a tiny close-lipped smile in his direction and nodded, “Feeling a little funny but I’m okay.”

“Did you want to go home?”

“No, no.” you waved him off, “I’m fine.”

Andrew turned back to the conversation with a few of the other parents, his arm still around you comfortingly, and his hand slid into the back pocket of your jeans. The move would have usually made you blush pink but instead you were just hoping he couldn’t feel how your legs quivered underneath you. You crossed your arms across your chest and let your mind stew, piecing together all the ways you hadn’t felt yourself that last week, all leading up to today. 

As if on cue, you felt a thick drop of cum slip out of you and into your underwear, unbeknownst to everyone around you including your husband. You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath and said a silent prayer in hopes that you weren’t pregnant. 

First thing the next morning, you took the car to the grocery store to pick up a few things to prepare for the week ahead. You were still feeling off even after your good night’s sleep and although you pinned it to an annual fall cold, you found yourself in the pharmacy aisle in front of the home pregnancy tests. Maybe it was because you had been through it once before that subconsciously you knew what your symptoms could have been hinting towards, but outwardly, you wanted to avoid it at all costs. In fact, you almost went home without one because if it happened to come back positive, you swore your life would be entirely ruined. But you bought one and hid it in the bottom of one of the brown paper bags so when you carried them into the house, it wasn’t easily noticeable to your husband or your son. 

The moment you walked in the door, Richard was rushing over to greet you, already dressed for the day undoubtedly by his father since he was still in pyjamas when you had left. Your little boy trailed after you into the kitchen where you set the paper bags on the counter and he pitched to you sweetly, “Mommy, can I go ask if James can play?”

“Of course, baby.” you reached down to pet his hair, “Did you already ask Daddy?”

Andrew appeared in the doorway to the kitchen too in his usual running gear, giving your son a playful little nudge to the back of his head, “I already said yes, silly goose. Why do you have to ask Mommy again?”

“I dunno.” Richard giggled and slid around your legs to hide from his father. 

“Because you’re a Mommy’s boy, aren’t you?” you said with a smile, glancing down behind you to your son who had himself wrapped around your legs. 

Richard only smiled bashfully against your thigh, his cheeky brown eyes sparkling up at his father who crossed his arms over his chest dramatically. 

“I get it.” Andrew sighed heavily. “No one loves dad.” 

Richard giggled from behind you and slithered between your legs to cheer up his father with a hug of his own and a promised, “I love you, Daddy.”

“Oh, thank you.” Andrew gushed and crouched down to swallow his laughing and squirming son into his arms properly, showering him in kisses all over his face, “I love you too.”

“Ew!” Richard squealed and wiggled away from him. “No kisses!”

“Go play.” Andrew gave his bum a little pat to send him off down the hallway, “Get outta here.” 

The sound of Richard’s feet down the hallway brought a fond smile to your face as you turned your attention to the filled grocery bags without making a move to unpack them. Andrew stood back up and tugged at the corner of one of them, trying to peek in.

“What’d you get?”

You grabbed them away from him a bit harder than anticipated, “Nothing exciting.”

His eyebrows furrowed briefly despite the amused smile on his face, “Okay.”

“You going on a run?” you asked casually. 

Andrew looked down at his snug white t-shirt and red jogging shorts, answering sarcastically, “Nah, I just know how much you love my tiny shorts so I thought I’d wear them around the house some more.”

“Shut up.” you laughed lightly. 

Andrew set his hand on your back as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, “I’ll be back in an hour or so. Love you.”

“Okay. Love you.” you kissed him goodbye and watched him leave. 

When the front door was shut and both your husband and son were gone, you hurried to throw any refrigerated items into the fridge before grabbing the pregnancy test box from the bottom of one of the grocery bags and you hightailed it upstairs. You closed your bedroom door and closed your ensuite door just to be safe before opening the box and removing the contents onto your bathroom counter. 

It looked not much unlike one of Richard’s play chemistry sets as you carefully set up the two vials in the provided stand and filled them both with a few drops of liquid from the small eyedropper. Then, you sat yourself on the toilet with the clear plastic cup held between your legs, silently wishing for a miracle. You were hoping it would be negative and Andrew would never have to know and it could all be brushed under the rug and forgotten about. Yes, you wanted more kids more than anything but life had made it a bit more complicated. 

When you were finished and flushed, you used the second eyedropper to add urine to both vials before capping them to let rest and you discarded the garbage and washed your hands. There was a forty-five minute wait on the at home tests - the fastest of its kind so far, the advancement of technology was truly incredible - but that still felt like an eternity to you. So you left the tests on the small plastic stand on your bathroom counter and returned downstairs to finish putting away the groceries. 

As a distraction, you selected an album from your library and turned on your record player in the living room, turning up the volume a little more to keep your mind away from the life-changing decision that was brewing in your upstairs bathroom. You tended to the dusting of the main floor and you put away some of the clutter that mostly consisted of Richard’s toys, letting the music take you away. Well, so much so that your mind was completely invested in the melody rather than the weight that lingered on your shoulders. 

Andrew returned from his run an hour later as promised and he greeted you in the kitchen where you were making lunch. You didn’t acknowledge him much as the song that was playing had you invested in the rhythm and you swayed softly around the kitchen, barely processing him telling you that he was going to get a shower before lunch. It wasn’t until he was halfway up the stairs that it clued into your mind and you dropped the knife onto the counter with a clatter. 

“Wait! Andy!” you called loudly after him to try and top the music. You hurried down the hallway and yanked the needle off your record to send screeching silence through the house before you took the stairs two at a time, calling his name again desperately as you turned into your bedroom, “Andy, honey.”

But he was already in the ensuite bathroom and that was right where you found him, standing at the counter with the two vials in hand. He turned to you, revealing the creamy white toned liquid inside - the white colour indicating a positive result. You swallowed back the bile in your throat for reasons he need not know about. 

“What is this?” he asked firmly, his furrowed expression unreadable. 

“I-” you swallowed, holding yourself up on the doorway, “I didn’t want you to see that yet.”

“You’re pregnant?” his eyebrows raised. 

You didn’t quite know what to say. Andrew turned back to the counter and set the vials back on the stand before bending over to the trash bin to retrieve the empty box. You knew perfectly well what the colour meant but you let him double check and when he did, the box was tossed back into the bin and he set his hands on his hips with an exasperated sigh. 

“Fuck.” he swore stiffly, raking a hand through his hair and he rubbed his fingers over the back of his neck. 

Your words had abandoned you, not having prepared to find out this way - right in front of him. You could see him through the reflection of the mirror, staring at how his face was screwed up in thought as if he were going through every phase of grief in his mind, trying to figure out what to say or do next. 

Finally, he inhaled deeply and said, “I thought we agreed that we were going to stop at one.”

“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose.” you protested strongly. 

Andrew turned back around to you, “I have been nothing but completely accommodating to what you need…putting my own shit to the side for you because I love you. But I specifically said…”

He faded out, pressing his fingertips to his temples in frustration. 

“What are you talking about?” you couldn’t help the edge that came to your voice. 

“These last few weeks, after you asked me for another kid and I said no, you have been on some mission to ‘rekindle our passion’ and have just been pulling me to bed every chance you get.” he laughed humorlessly, “Now I see why.”

“What the fuck?” you frowned, “That’s the biggest amount of bullshit I have ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“I don’t want another kid!” Andrew said sternly. “I barely wanted the first one! But we made it work because you were happy and it was what you wanted and I gave up my apartment and my goals and my life for this family because it was important to you. You who I had only known a few months but I swore was the perfect girl for me. I love you so much but now it’s just a blatantly obvious infinite loop of you taking, taking, taking and me just giving it all up for you.”

Andrew pushed past you into the bedroom and your head turned after him with mouth agape. You were entirely stunned speechless. In his white t-shirt and short red shorts, it was almost humorous how this conversation was happening as he paced the room.

He turned to you again, tossing a hand in the air, “When do I get what I want? Huh? When do you do something for me?”

“When do I do something for you?” you snapped back, “Are you serious? I do literally everything for you! I raise your kid, I cook your meals, I do absolutely everything around the house so you don’t have to lift a finger!” 

“I mean in life! With our goals! Why do we always have to do what you want? This house was what you wanted, getting married was what you wanted, having a bunch of kids is what you wanted. I didn’t want this! I didn’t want this stupid job that I am working my ass off day in and day out to get enough money to get by.”

“Oh, Andrew, stop it.” you scoffed, “What was your other choice, huh? A musician? An actor? A fucking Formula 1 driver? You had no sufficient, sustainable, real plans before me. You were a loose cannon before me. You were going to be broke and starving until someone got you straightened out and that just happened to be me. Life isn’t fantasies. You’re not going to be some top of the charts musician on MTV or World-Fucking-Champion and you just have to get over it.”

Andrew shook his head angrily and crossed his arms over his chest with a huff, turning away from you, “Can’t bloody believe this shit.”

“You’re twenty-six-years-old, Andrew! You’re a grown man with a wife and a home and a kid and a nice-paying stable job. So many people would kill to be in your position.” 

He turned back around to you quickly, jabbing his finger against his chest, his voice loud and firm, “But it’s not what I want! I’m sick of working my ass off every single day just to get by at a job I can’t stand! I put my blood, sweat, and tears into providing for this family and all I ask is a little compassion and a little give.”

You threw out your hands, shouting back at him, “What do you want from me?”

“How do you expect me to provide for a second kid when we can barely survive with the first?” Andrew took an angry step towards you, “I wish you just listened to me when I told you no-”

“You sound ridiculous! I didn’t knock myself up behind your back.” you snapped. Your words tasted bitter on your tongue with the silent knowledge that you truly may have done just that. You didn’t want to throw gas on the fire and make it a million times worse. Instead, you could only push away your internal battles and pray to God that the child growing inside you had the same dark features that were now staring angrily into your face. 

“Do you want me to tell you that I’m happy?” Andrew retorted. “Do you want me to lie to your face and tell you that I’m overjoyed and that we’re one big cheery happy fucking family?”

“Talk about compassion.” you spat, “A little reassurance wouldn’t kill you.”

“I can’t work any harder than I do.” Andrew reiterated, pressing his palms together, “One step further and my back will break. I will break.”

“I just want a family with you!” you protested loudly, tears brimming in your eyes, “I’m sorry that I love you and that I want children with you! I’m sorry that I’m a shitty wife for…for whatever I did that you’re currently yelling at me over!” 

“Well I’m sorry that my best isn’t ever good enough for you!” Andrew countered even louder. 

You couldn’t hold back the small frustrated sob that slipped past your lips. 

“Shit.” he huffed and turned away from you, taking a few steps across the room with his hands raking through his hair. 

The sudden silence lingered tense between you and you choked on it as you took a jagged inhale through your tears. Andrew stood a few paces away from you, still in his ridiculous jogging outfit, his fingers clutching his dark hair as if he were about to rip it right out of his head. You habitually looked over to one of the side windows of your bedroom that stared directly towards the neighbour’s house and in that moment you could have given anything to just be with George instead, wanting to just fall into his arms.

Andrew sniffled and turned around to you, barely able to even look at you as he said flatly, “I’m just gonna go for a walk.” 

“I made lunch.” you called after him as he walked right out of your room. 

“I’m not hungry.” he replied from the stairs. 

You listened to his every footfall on the stairs and then the sound of the front door opening and then shutting loudly. The house fell silent. Perfectly, eerily silent. You swore the sound of your breathing was echoing in your ears. 

Out of pure anger and frustration and self-hatred, you stormed back into the ensuite bathroom, bursting in so strongly that the door flung open hard enough to hit the wall. You caught yourself against the counter where the small plastic standing housing the two vials stood, both tests containing the murky white liquid of your positive result. Swearing loudly at yourself, you dumped the vials down the sink and threw everything in the trash bin as tears blurred your vision. 

Now that you were alone, you had the opportunity to let yourself process what this positive meant but the fight with your husband that was fresh on your mind just caused you to crumple to the ground with the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes. You swore to yourself over and over until your voice was breaking and the tears that leaked down your cheeks overflowed from your palms and onto the tile floor. 

But, as always, you had to pull yourself together. Lunch was growing warm down in the kitchen and you had to go get your son from his playdate so he could eat. You wiped your eyes in the bathroom mirror and straightened out your hair the best you could before returning downstairs. Stalling, you switched off your record player and set Andrew’s plate in the fridge just in case he wanted it later, before you finally allowed yourself to step outside. 

The crisp fall air filled your lungs and you took a deep refreshing breath as you walked down your front porch steps and began the short walk across your lawn to the neighbour’s house. Life felt like a hazy dream as you ascended their porch and knocked on the front door, barely processing anything that had happened that morning. Maybe dissociating was the right thing to do because subconsciously you knew that if you didn’t, the moment George opened the door and you saw him, you would have completely broken down. Instead, you greeted him with a tight lipped smile. 

“Just here to grab Richard for lunch.” you said flatly, the roughness to your voice from your crying obvious to everyone but you. 

George hesitated for a moment, staring at you, before turning into the house, “Ritchie, your mom’s here!”

Your little boy’s voice called back from upstairs, “Coming!”

George looked back at you, asking quietly, “You okay?”

You sniffled and nodded faintly, turning your head away from him to keep your composure. 

“Hey,” he reached out a hand to touch your wrist, “what’s going on?”

You stepped away from him, out of his reach, “I’m fine, George.”

Richard bounded down the stairs and burst right out the front door, throwing himself around your legs, “Mommy! Can we eat fast? James and I were in the middle of a race.” 

You put on the best smile you could offer the light of your life as you took his precious face in your hands, “Of course, my love.”

Richard took your hand and nearly pulled you down the stairs of the Russell’s front porch and George stepped out after you to stand on the top step. He watched while your son led the way home and you didn’t offer your concerned neighbour a second glance. 

You ate lunch with your son at the kitchen table, expertly dodging his questions about his father’s whereabouts. He scarfed down his sandwich and chips quite quickly - in a rush to get back to his friend and their play - but you picked haphazardly at yours, your already limited appetite only dwindled more so since your hostile conversation with your husband only moments before. You couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting another little angel just like Richard and you admired him adoringly as he squeezed the life out of his juice box until the straw made a loud slurping noise. 

“Done!” the five-year-old announced, turning to you with that sweet smile that had his pretty brown eyes scrunching closed at the corners, “May I be excused, Mommy?”

You reached over to pet his face, wanting to engulf yourself in your son completely, wanting your entire life to revolve around him and nothing else, “Yes, my love. Go and play.” 

He hopped off his chair and threw his arms around you for a fleeting hug before he was rushing back down the hallway and out the front door. You stood from the table and collected your dishes to bring to the sink, tossing out your barely touched sandwich on the way alongside Richard’s empty juice box. It didn’t feel real that Richard was going to have a sibling in a few short months - if you thought about it too much and the weight that it carried on your conscious, it made you absolutely nauseous.

You stood at the sink with your hand pressed to your mouth, trying to take deep breaths, and trying not to think about how a blue-eyed baby with light features would be the worst thing to happen to you in your life. What would that mean for you? For Andrew? For George and his marriage? You had to take this secret with you to the grave. You had to cut things off with George and never speak of it ever again. 

And then your hands flew to the side of the sink to catch yourself as you vomited. 

About an hour later, you were cuddled up on the couch under the family room blanket, flicking through the TV channels for something of even the slightest interest to you. But with your mind so busy, nothing seemed distracting enough. Your eyes drifted to the clock on the kitchen wall that placed you in the later half of the afternoon and you sighed. That’s when the front door opened. 

After six years of marriage, you could recognize Andrew’s footsteps without even needing to look and you kept your eyes on the TV screen playing some talk show through the otherwise silent house. Your attention was attuned, instead, to the sound of the front door closing and his keys on the table and his every footstep into the family room. He lingered in the archway for a moment and you didn’t dare look at him. Your curled up figure and the tissues that scattered the coffee table pitched your sorrow well enough. 

“I’m back.” he said flatly. 

You sniffled before answering with a faint shrug, “Okay.”

Andrew sighed and took a few more steps into the room, “Can we talk, sugar?”

“Not if you’re just gonna yell at me again.” you mumbled. 

“I didn’t…” he exhaled deeply and fell to a stop at the opposite end of the couch from you, “I didn’t mean to freak out on you like that.” 

You sniffled again. You didn’t look up. 

“I was just really taken by surprise. I didn’t expect that and I just…had a bit of an existential crisis, I’m afraid, and might have taken it out on you which was very wrong of me.”

You grabbed the remote from beside you on the couch and turned off the TV to give the conversation the attention it deserved although you still didn’t want to look at him. Maybe it was the anger or the guilt, you weren’t quite sure. Andrew took your move as an invitation to sit down and he did, keeping a respectful distance between you. 

“I’m really sorry I got so upset. I was a real prick to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Picking at the blanket that was draped over you, you muttered, “Thank you.”

“Maybe this all isn’t what I had dreamt up for my life initially but it doesn’t mean it’s bad.” he continued, “In fact, it’s really good. It’s so good that sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve it.”

You finally looked over at him, “You deserve the world.” 

He met your gaze and offered you a small half smile, “So do you.” 

There was a pause where you just stared at each other from opposite ends of the couch for a moment. 

“Do you really not want another baby?” you asked. 

Andrew sighed and looked at the carpet, “It’s not that I don’t, it’s that I don’t want to never see you again. I already feel so distant with how much I have to work and to afford another kid? Even the thought of what that would entail exhausts me.”

“Maybe you gotta ask for a raise.” you said lightly. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled faintly, “I might have to.”

You turned your attention back to picking at the threads of the blanket. 

Andrew looked over at you again, “I never even asked: How are you feeling about it?”

Tired? Stressed? Terrified? Exhausted? Guilty? Depressed? Nauseous? 

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Kinda bad after our blow-up this morning.”

Andrew sighed and scooted closer to you, holding out his arm and you instinctively met him halfway on the couch to cuddle into his side. He pressed a kiss to your head as you rested against his shoulder and he held you close. 

“Don’t let your crap husband get in your head.” he teased. 

You smiled faintly and reached a hand out of your blanket to tap his thigh under the short fabric of his red jogging shorts, “You in those ridiculous shorts.”

“Hey,” he swatted your hand away, “you love these shorts on me.”

He was still faintly sweaty from his earlier jog and then from walking the neighbourhood for who knew how long but you still gladly shifted on the couch with him to drape yourselves out together, cuddled up and forgiving in each other’s arms. With your head on his chest, you closed your eyes to listen to his heartbeat and your arm around his middle squeezed him closer, wanting to absorb yourself into his familiarity and go back to when life was simpler. Andrew’s fingers trailed over your shoulder and into the roots of your hair, easily calming you down and taking the edge off of your stresses, his lips dusting a few soft kisses to your head. 

He then shifted beside you to face you a little more and he pushed the blanket farther down so he could lift up the bottom of your shirt and his fingers ghosted across your abdomen. It still looked the same as it always had but the secrets it housed inside were almost unspeakable. With your heads resting together comfortably, you and your husband stared down your body to the spot which warmly housed what you prayed was your baby grown in wedlock. 

“I love you.” Andrew promised into the air. “And this baby was made from that love and there is nothing more beautiful than that.”

You pulled a tight smile, barely whispering an audible “I love you” in return. 

The following week went by in a haze. The news of your pregnancy stayed between you and Andrew and although your husband seemed to be warming up nicely to the idea of having a second child, you were in a state of limbo. When Andrew was at work and Richard was at school, you didn’t dare leave your house in fear of running into George. In fact, you were even having Richard wait outside on your front porch until he saw George and James heading to the bus stop so he could go with them instead of you. In reality, it all sounded so pathetic. 

But you knew that one look at him and you would crumble and if you were set in your ways to break things off with him for the sake of your family, you needed to be strong. There were certainly better ways to go about it but it was a dire circumstance and your brain was foggy and the early months of pregnancy were really starting to hit hard with the symptoms. Karma, you were sure. You had dug yourself a hole and you were being forced to lie in it. 

When Andrew returned home on Friday night just in time for dinner, as usual, you were already exhausted from a long day of doing not much of anything. Fatigue was real and you had spent it all on making dinner, therefore not offering much conversation over the meal. Besides, your mind was going a mile a minute anyway - way too much going on to really formulate a coherent thought. 

With Richard watching TV and playing in the family room after dinner, Andrew helped you to clear the table and start on the dishes. You washed them at the sink and he took drying duty, making sure to put everything away where it went around the kitchen. 

“I ran into Jennifer on the train tonight.”

You didn’t acknowledge his statement at first, silently waiting for him to keep talking as you held out one of the wet plates to him. 

“Jennifer Russell. Our neighbour?” Andrew continued and took the plate from you to dry it off. 

“Yes, I know who you meant.” you said softly. 

“Oh. Well, she and I got to chatting and we were thinking about having another double date night soon. Maybe just something simple like a dinner? I offered that we could host.”

You laughed breathily towards the sink, “I’m hardly up to cooking a whole meal for two families right now. I’m lucky if I go an hour without puking.”

“That’s okay. We can order something in.” Andrew offered, “It’d be a nice treat.”

You debated quietly for a moment as you scrubbed the plate in your hand. In reality, your hesitation wasn’t necessarily about the need for dinner prep as it was more towards the anxiety of seeing Jennifer’s husband face to face. Then, you asked, “When?”

“Tomorrow?”

The part of you that really missed George tugged at your hormonal heartstrings and you debated for one more second before finally, “Okay.”

And tomorrow came before you knew it. 

And George then was standing in your foyer talking to your husband with a clueless smile on his face, his hand resting on his wife’s back. 

And you were wondering why on earth you thought this was a good idea. 

“Come on in.” Andrew hung up your guests’ jackets in the front closet, “Make yourself at home.”

While the children helped themselves to the family room where Richard’s plentiful toys were littered across the carpet, you four grownups took to the living room to chat while you waited for dinner to arrive. Andrew chose a record from your abundant collection and as he did so, the rest of you took your seats. 

On your way across the room, George’s hand ghosted over your back and he offered a breathy, “Hey.”

You barely smiled in return, “Hi.”

He and his wife took to the chairs and you and Andrew shared the modest floral sofa. Conversation progressed easily although your mind was distracted by the memories you held with your neighbour on that very couch. It seemed George was thinking the same thing as he stared at the upholstery and then met your gaze, letting a faint smirk prick at the corner of his mouth. You looked to your lap, unresponsive. George’s smile faltered. 

But you pitched into conversation where possible to appear as normal as you could to your unsuspecting spouses. You were good at playing the part of devoted wife - as you had learned over the prior few weeks - and your hand rested on Andrew’s thigh innocently as you talked amongst yourselves and stayed tucked under his loving arm. George seemed to be analysing your every move with his eyes not often straying from you. You tried not to give him much in return, focusing your attention on Jennifer’s incredible mundane story about work. 

KFC was ordered for dinner and when the driver arrived, Andrew got up to pay while you got the dishes ready in the kitchen and organized the kids at the table. Your polite guests helped to plate the take-out food once Andrew brought in the brown paper bags and you divided everything up and served the children first. You made sure they each had a juice box and plentiful napkins and George cut up Nancy’s chicken for her on her plate at the same time. Andrew and Jennifer took your grown-up plates to the dining room, leaving you and George alone in the kitchen with the kids for a moment. 

When you drifted over to throw away the plastic straw wrappers in the trash bin under the sink, George followed you to rinse his hands quickly. Before you could escape, he grabbed your sleeve with one finger to stop you. 

In a quiet voice, he asked, “Are you avoiding me?”

“No.” you answered flatly.

“Are you sure? I haven’t seen you all week and on Sunday you seemed upset. Now you can hardly look at me. Does Andrew know-”

“No.” you said firmly, stopping the conversation quickly in such a risky location. Your eyes darted past him to the kitchen table where your children were munching away happily, clueless. You looked back at him, “I don’t want to talk about this. Especially not right now.”

Then you slipped away from him and through the doorway into the adjacent dining room. Andrew and Jennifer were already sitting at the set dining room table, diagonally from each other, and your husband pulled out your chair for you beside his with a smile. You sat down with a quiet thanks to him and George joined you and took his spot across from Andrew, his eyes lingering on you with uncertainty. 

The side dishes were lined in the centre of the table and you all passed around the bowls and helped yourselves to the servings over casual chatter. You stayed quieter than usual, picking at the food on your plate as you tried to keep your nausea at bay - the cause being your newly discovered pregnancy but also the guilt that never failed to turn your stomach and raise bile in your throat. Your fork nudged against a piece of macaroni salad as George shared a story from that week surrounding something cute that Nancy had done but you were barely listening. Instead, you stared at your plate and took the smallest bites known to man, silently praying - as you constantly had been all week - for a brown eyed baby. In reality, you knew that the likelihood of that was not in your favour. 

The sudden feeling of your mouth dampening had you setting your fork down onto your plate with a shaky, “Excuse me a moment.” 

Andrew watched as you got up quickly from your chair, your napkin falling to the floor, and you disappeared out of the dining room. Your guests sat, startled, as your footsteps hurried up the stairs to the second floor followed by a dull thud of your door closing. 

You dropped to your knees in front of the toilet just in time to throw up into it, your hands gripping the sides of the bowl as the cool tile stung against your knees. Tears burning your eyes and you shut them tightly as you slowly wiped your lips with the back of your trembling hand, sniffling back your regretful sorrow. The soft knock at the bathroom door had you flushing the toilet before answering with a faint acknowledgment. You had half hoped it was George - but why would it have been? - although Andrew slipping inside the bathroom with you shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise. 

“Hey.” he cooed, crouching onto the ground with you and he pulled your hair out of your face and away from your flushed skin, “You okay, my love?” 

You sniffled and slouched against the toilet, “No.”

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” he kissed your temple and then carefully helped you to your feet and over to the sink. Like he always had done when you were pregnant with Richard, he wiped your mouth with a cool damp cloth and brushed your tangled hair for you as you rested lazily against the vanity. 

“It’s so embarrassing.” you mumbled. 

“Hm?” Andrew encouraged as he finished with your hair, fluffing the soft curls over your shoulders. 

“We have guests and I just ran away from the table to puke. That’s so embarrassing.” 

Andrew smiled softly as you leaned back against his chest and he tucked your hair behind your ear so he could kiss your cheek, “I’m sure they understand.” 

A slight panic hinted at your voice, “You didn’t tell them, did you?” 

“No. Although I’m thinking we should.”

“No.” you answered quickly. 

Staring at each other through the mirror, his arm around your middle and his hand rested over your stomach, Andrew questioned, “Why not? Now seems like a perfect time.”

You couldn’t think of a valid excuse that wouldn’t completely give you away. You merely shrugged. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, sugar.” Andrew reassured you with a warm smile, “They have two kids of their own, after all. I’m sure they’ll be happy for us. Besides, maybe now Nancy can have a playmate.”

Oh yes, you thought to yourself, George is going to be just so happy. This whole situation just screamed ‘happy’. 

Back in the dining room, you and Andrew returned to your seats and you offered a soft apology to your guests over your sudden disappearance. 

“Are you alright?” George asked politely, his wife at his side watching you worriedly, both of them full of friendly compassion. 

You pulled a tight smile and a curt nod as you picked up your fork again, “Fine.” 

You couldn’t look at him. You knew that if you did, you would be sent to vomit again by the hellscape of emotions that swirled around your mind. But Andrew had a different plan as he set his hand on top of yours on the table and he looked over at you as if asking for your permission to speak. You didn’t move, eyes downcast to your plate, played off effortlessly as shyness. 

“We actually have some news we want to share.” Andrew announced to your guests. 

The children in the adjacent kitchen laughed and chatted loudly, the sounds of their joy echoing around in your mind, stirring stresses of how much their lives could be affected by this simple announcement. Nothing felt simple anymore. 

George shifted in his chair as if he knew something was going on - something not quite right. He speared another bite of his dinner with his fork without taking his attention away from Andrew’s accidentally dramatic pause while his wife continued to eat, unfazed, at his side. Andrew gave your hand a squeeze and your mouth felt dry, blood gone cold, and your breath was held in your lungs. 

Your husband looked at your guests with that soft smile of his, “We’re expecting.” 

As Jennifer swooned with celebratory congratulations, the noise of the room fell into echoing silence as you finally looked up from your plate and your gaze instantly magnetized to the man sitting diagonally across from you. George was already staring at you, his handsome face fallen in stricken shock. Your internal thoughts settled heavily on your conscious, realization that the choices you shared were the sole cause of this announcement that was feigned at joy by your spouses. 

You only had to glance at George to see it all over his face. 

He knew it too. 

THE END

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[dark-moonlust]

A December to Remember

Commission December 2024 for anon

Disclaimer: Copyright @ 2024 by Kate Hart

This commission is owned by Kate Hart. As the original writer, I strictly forbid any form of reproduction, replication, or translation of my stories without my explicit consent.

Pairing: orc x fem reader

Summary: this story follows reader and her orc boyfriend, Ghrath, through their first Christmas together. They try to find the perfect Christmas tree and celebrate their first Christmas together.

Warnings: no smut but it’s implied, flirty and funny moments, touches, kisses, fluffy and romantic themes, Xmas story about love, laughter, decorating, and first-Christmas together —may cause excessive smiling or daydreaming about orc boyfriends! 😘

Cold winter air stung your cheeks as you drew your orc boyfriend, Ghrath, deeper into the snow-covered forest. You tightened your scarf around your neck as you walked through the woods, Ghrath's hand enfolding yours, calloused yet warm. His emerald-green skin shone out against the white winterland but the cold didn't seem to hurt him at all—as if it ever did. You were dressed in warm layers but unlike you, your boyfriend wore jeans and a thin shirt. The snow crunched beneath his boots as his golden eyes darted between the trees.

“Okay, explain this again, my love," he mumbled, his deep voice vibrating through you. "We cut down a tree, drag it inside, and then decorate it? Why?"

"Because it's tradition. It's also festive and makes the house feel cozy,” you explained, squeezing his hand. He was amusing you but you could tell he secretly liked it—anything that made you happy was worthwhile to him.

"Hmph," Ghrath didn’t speak but his expression softened as he noticed how your cheeks flushed red with enthusiasm.

It was the most bizarre thing he’d ever heard. Orcs didn’t celebrate Christmas like that. They fought battles and took part in mighty competitions. For him, picking the best Christmas tree was less of a holiday tradition than an odd human quest, but he was determined to enjoy it. His mate wanted a tree, therefore you would get one.

Whatever made you happy, he would do it.

"This one looks strong," Ghrath said, pausing in front of a gigantic pine that was easily 20 feet tall. He stood boldly, arms folded across his wide chest, waiting for your approval.

You tried not to laugh. "Babe, we don't need a tree that can double as a watchtower. I told you it needs to fit in the living room."

Ghrath frowned as he looked between the high tree and you. “Are you sure? I think it would create a statement. Guests would see it and think, "Yes, Ghrath must be the strongest mate to find such a mighty tree."

You laughed, coming closer and running your fingers along the tree trunk. "It's not all about size, big guy.”

He arched a brow. “You didn’t think that this morning when you were choking my di—”

“Hey! Don’t bring sex into this!” You lightly smacked his chest, your cheeks stinging with heat. "This is about our tree.”

"You are adorable when I tease you.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him, the warmth of his body seeping through your thick jacket. "I'll behave. I promise.”

You gave him a sharp look but your lips twitched with a grin you couldn't hide. "You better."

“Okay, my love, tell me what to look for when searching for the perfect Christmas tree."

“Well, the tree needs to be healthy. Green and with needles that bend rather than break. See how this one's needles are stiff and brittle?" Walking to one of the trees, you took a branch and showed him, the needles snapping beneath your fingertips. "That suggests it is very dry. It’s not the one.”

Ghrath tilted his head, fascinated, and bent down to sniff the branch. The pines tickled his nose. "Hmph. Fine, my love. I will find the perfect tree for you."

You smiled, pulling his hand to lead him farther into the trees. His heavy boots made the snow crunch louder as you searched the woods. Every now and then, Ghrath would pause and point theatrically to –surprise– yet another massive tree.

"This is the one! Look at it, my love. It's straight, tall, and sturdy. Like me, yeah?" His tusks glinted as he gave you a playful wink.

"Ghrath," you murmured, stifling a giggle, "that tree looks fine but again, it’s too big. It would crush our house. Where would we even put it?"

"I'll cut off the top and stick it through the ceiling,” he said casually. “Problem solved."

This time you burst out in laughter, leaning in and burying your face in his chest. His hand immediately reached up to cradle the back of your head and his deep chuckle echoed through you.

“What? You think I can’t carry it? I'm the strongest.”

"Ghrath, I don't need to test you. I already know you're the strongest," you said, pulling him down by the front of his shirt and kissing his lips softly. "But all I want is the ideal tree. Not a mountain that will destroy the house."

Your mate sulked and walked over to another tree that was smaller but equally absurdly tall. "This one, then?”

“Babe, are you kidding me?”

“No? You are impossible to please, woman." He gestured toward a small crooked fir. "What about this one?"

"Ghrath, that one looks completely haggard.”

“Hmm… it is a little weak,” he hummed to himself. “Not good for you, my soft little mate. I will find one more satisfying."

After what seemed like miles of travel and several teasing comments from Ghrath (one of the trees was "too skinny—it would snap like a twig." Another one was "clearly too short and weak—look at those sad little branches." By the time you spotted a medium-sized but perfectly symmetrical evergreen, you were virtually in tears. Ahhh, finally! The tree was strong and sturdy, with soft needles that clung to its branches as you ran your gloved fingertips down them.

You turned to Ghrath, grinning. "This is the one, babe! It’s perfect!"

Here’s a little peek at the commission! Since it turned out a little bigger than expected, the rest is posted for free over on my Patreοn if you’d like to read it. Hope you enjoy!

[holdmytesseract]

Hello sweetie!!!

Good to know that you've opened requests because do I have A WONDERFUL request for YOU!

Okay okay, of course for me I'm going to request Loki so here goes...

Loki and Reader are arranged to marry and have never met before (either Reader is a princess or just a lady). The day of the wedding, reader suggests a first touch with her fiance - how could Frigga deny that? So they do it. Then, when they see each other at the altar, it's as if the world stops for them both.

I left it a bit vague so you can expand but I am so excited to see what you make of it! I love you so much and please do DM me if you need something 🫂🥰❤️

~LRM

Marrying a Stranger

Loki Odinson x fem!Princess!Reader

Summary: You are arranged to marry Prince Loki of Asgard. Fear and pre-wedding nerves get the better of you and you can't help but ask Frigga for help. Of course is the good-hearted Queen more than willing to help out...

Warnings: arranged marriage? angst, fluff, sweet Loki

Word Count: 2,5k

a/n: I actually wanted to post a new chapter of 'Through the Years' today, BUT the birthday of my wonderful friend @lady-rose-moon is definitely more important. 🥰 Therefore, I'd like to post this lil' oneshot as a gift. 😊 Again, happy (belated) birthday, friend!

Ps. I'm also incredibly sorry that his took me so long to write... I hope you like it nevertheless! I love you, too! 💚

Tags: @lady-rose-moon @huntress-artemiss @muddyorbsblr @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @chennqingg @smolvenger @alexakeyloveloki @theaudacitytowrite @jennyggggrrr @asgards-princess-of-mischief @eleniblue @vanilla-daydreaming @loz-3 @valencia-rou @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @fictive-sl0th @bunny24sstuff @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @lovingchoices14 @linaax @mochie85 @goblingirlsarah @glitchquake @lokidbadguy @icytrickster17 @gruftiela @lulubelle814 @mandywholock1980 @november-rayne @chantsdemarins @simping-for-marvel @lou12346789 @aagn360 @lokiforever @anukulee @multifandom-worlds (Continuing in the comments!)

Masterlist °☆• Loki Masterlist

The day had arrived. The day you looked forward to in excitement and anticipation, but also with fear and nervousness. Your wedding. Your arranged wedding, to be precisely.

You were a princess. Only daughter of the king and queen of Vanaheim. And due to the royal blood pumping through your veins, you were not allowed to choose the man you'd marry. The man would be chosen for you. At first, you didn't approve of this and were literally appalled by the mere imagination of marrying a strange man you had never seen before, but your mother and all your tutors had quickly put you in your place.

There was no way out of this - and you had to accept that. It was your fate. Your destiny. The destined path for a princess.

This is not of importance, sweetheart. You don't have to meet your future husband, in order to marry him.

A few centuries ago, when you had reached womanhood, your marriage was arranged and announced within the kingdom. You were bespoken to king Odin's and queen Frigga's youngest son... Prince Loki of Asgard.

Throughout all the years you had never met your betrothed.

That is the man I shall marry?

That was what your mother had answered to your question if you could meet the prince you were going to marry.

So, the topic was off the table. You had been taught to obey your mother, so why would you dare to ever ask her again? The decision was made. No meant no. You only ever heard stories of your future husband... That he was quite special - and not in the good way. Most people spoke of his mischievous and cunning nature. Some even said villainous, brute and rebellious. To hear those words scared you.

You had dreamed of true love and romance. Of being courted and wooed. You dreamed of a sweet, kind man who would treat you like you deserved - and not of a brute who would treat you like his maid. You spent endless sleepless nights within your chambers, thinking about your future with Loki. What if he truly was just a harsh, mischievous scamp? What if your dreams were about to shatter?

And now, suddenly the moment had come...

But then you started to hear other stories of Loki Odinson as well. About how charming and witty he is. How gentlemanly and eloquent. And how utterly handsome he shall look.

You were torn. Torn by every story they told you - and the worst part was that you never got to find out what the truth was and which talk was cheap. At least not until the day you would marry him. It left you a mess.

You were standing in a huge chamber in the royal palace of Asgard. The room bustled with maids, who were preparing everything to get you ready for the wedding ceremony. You nervously fumbled your fingers; constantly tugging at the soft fabric of your wine red dress. Your mother had just left the room along with your father; leaving you and your troubled mind alone.

From the first encounter with Frigga, you could tell that she had a heart of gold. She was so kind and lovely. Perhaps the most good-hearted person you ever met. You got along with your future mother-in-law instantly. She had welcomed you with open arms. And right in that moment, you couldn't picture another way out.

You couldn't deny the anxiety any longer. It hit you full force; realisation dawning on you like the sun... I can't marry a man I never saw in my life.

So, you decided to order a maid to fetch the only person you hoped would be kind enough to help you. Queen Frigga. The Allmother. You and your family had arrived about a week ago and even in that week you never got to see Loki. Only the king and queen. Not the princes.

Frigga gently took your hands in hers and led you over to the bed; sitting down with you. "What is the matter, dear? The fear within you is stronger than your nervousity. I can feel it." You swallowed hard, "I- It's... It's just..." and had to take a deep breath. "I'm afraid of marrying a man I never saw in my life. I-I know that this is not of importance and probably even forbidden, but-" A radiant smile forming on the queen's lips interrupted you. You furrowed your brows; were confused. Even more when she started to chuckle.

Only a few moments passed, before the young maid returned to your chambers; following the queen.

"Y/N, my dear..." She immediately walked up to you. "You called for me?" You just nodded; anxious eyes meeting Frigga's beautiful blue ones. "I-I did. Could we... Could we talk in private?" "Of course!" She reassured you, then clapped her hands twice. "Would you all please leave and give us some privacy?" All the maids stopped in their tasks and immediately rushed to leave your chambers.

"My son requested the exact same. Barely before you called me to your chambers, I sat with Loki and spoke about this with him as well. I guess you are quite similar in that case." She chuckled again and reached for your hand again. You just stared at her; not quite believing what she just said. "I understand you, dear. I couldn't do such a thing either. Back when I had to wed my husband, I demanded to at least see him and share a few sentences with him beforehand as well. It helped me to adapt to the situation I was in. Therefore, I can't deny yours, neither my son's wish." Frigga stood up and offered you her arm. "Come on."

You swallowed hard; feeling your heart beat rapidly against your chest, as you approached the little pavilion.

You blinked; were utterly speechless. You knew Frigga would understand you, but that... That wasn't something you anticipated to happen. Still a bit stunned, you stood up and took her offer. She led you out of your chambers, down several hallways you had never seen before, until you were outside the palace and had reached a beautiful garden. She stopped, nodding towards a small pavilion quite a few meters away, which was surrounded by rose bushes and cherry trees.

"My son is waiting for you in the pavilion." Frigga let go of your arm and gave you a smile. "You have about an hour before the maids will return to get you both ready for the ceremony. Make sure to be back at your chambers by that time." With a wink and a soft pad on your arm, she turned around and left.

Your heart skipped a beat.

Carefully - almost shyly, you peeked around the corner.

A man was standing in the middle of the small pavilion, with his back towards you; hands clasped behind his lower back. You could see that he was wearing a green tunic and black leather boots. Gold accents highlighted his whole outfit.

He had long hair - as black as the feathers of a raven. It fell in soft curls over his shoulders. Your gaze climbed up and down his body. He was tall. Norns, he was so tall - and his hands were big. You could tell. They would swallow yours whole.

"H-Hello?" A dark, smooth and slightly high-pitched voice spoke. "A-Are... Are you Princess Y/N?" You could tell by his voice that he was nervous, too. Probably even afraid - just like you.

You didn't even notice how your mouth fell agape. Or how you made another small step forwards; totally enhanced by the God you saw standing in front of you.

Barely after you set one foot in front of the other, a small twig snapped underneath the weight of your body. You flinched - and the man quickly turned to face you; flinching the slightest bit as well. The gust which was created by Loki's quick spin was sent directly into your direction and no second later, his scent hit you; invaded your nostrils... Leather, something dark and musky, charred wood and a slight hint of mint and something fruity. It smelled so rich, so divine, but also so addictive and cosy. You almost fainted.

You needed a moment to get yourself together. "Y-Yes, I-" Your words faded into a gasp as your eyes met his for the first time ever. He had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. Blue like water and as deep as the oceans. They held so many emotions. Nervousity and fear, but also curiosity and excitement. But above all kindness - the same kindness which sparkled within his mother's eyes.

Loki smiled and took a few cautious steps towards you. "It is my utmost pleasure to meet you, my princess." He gathered a bit of his bravery and hesitatingly reached for your hand, taking it gently in his. With a soft bow, he bestowed a small kiss upon your knuckles; soft, smooth lips brushing against your cold skin. A shudder rippled through you.

"The- The pleasure is a-all mine, my prince." You more or less stammered out, now utterly distracted by his chiselled facial features. High cheekbones, sharp jawline and a perfectly shaped nose. Norns, you thought. He looks like carved out of marble.

Loki gave you a smile. "Thank you for agreeing to this little... secret meeting. I-I just had to see you before the ceremony, I-" You gave his hand - which still enveloped yours a soft squeeze. "I know. I felt the same way." A nervous chuckle left his lips, followed by an even bigger smile. "That makes this situation so much easier..." You reciprocated his smile. "Indeed, my prince."

You took a seat on the small, cosy bench and decided to use the time you had left to talk and get to know each other at least a little bit, before you'd become husband and wife. It was exactly what you - and Loki needed. But especially, it calmed your fears of marrying a brute, despiteful man. They had been wrong... Oh so wrong. Loki was not like that. He was like you hoped he'd be. Kind, gentlemanly, sweet - and utterly romantic. His heart may be battered and bruised, but you could feel that this man would do everything to be a good, loving husband for you.

The hour flew by way too fast; within the blink of an eye and soon it was time to part ways - for now.

"Thank you, my pri-" "Loki. Please... It's Loki for you." That made you blush even more - if that was even possible. "Thank you, Loki." You smiled. "I can't believe I'm going to be wed to such a handsome, polite and sweet man either."

"Again... Thank you for agreeing to this." Loki said; voice soft. You shook your head. "No need to thank me. I wanted this, too, you know..."

Silence settled over the both of you, until he let out a soft, breathy chuckle. "I can't believe I'm marrying such a beautiful, kind-hearted woman in barely a few hours." You blushed in the darkest shades of crimson at his words; suppressing a girlish giggle to slip past your lips.

That caused Loki to blush.

A nervous chuckle bubbled from deep within his chest. "Thank you-" "Y/N." You interrupted him. "Y/N." The way he rolled his name off your tongue almost send you into another dimension - you were sure of it.

His words hit you straight into your heart. You could swear it was aflame by now, burning for this man you knew so little, but were going to wed in a few hours.

"Are you still nervous?" Loki asked then; eyes soft. You nodded. "Y-Yes, I- I'm afraid it's going to get worse..." You giggled nervously; desperately trying to play it cool, but failing.

He took your hand in his again; gently caressing the back of your hand with his thumb. "I know this is normal. I-I am nervous, too, but... Please don't worry. You are not alone in this. I'll be there - and I won't ever let go of you."

You took deep breaths; smiling brightly. Now you could say that you were really looking forward towards your wedding. For the first time in centuries.

"T-Thank you. That is really reassuring to know. I-I won't let go either." Loki smiled, "That's good to know, my darling." and leaned in for a delicate, small peck on your lips. It was gentle and barely lasting - but it felt so right. So good.

Before you were able to answer something, his hand slipped from yours as he was passing you by; stepping out of the pavilion and out of your sight.

"You look beautiful, sweetheart." Your mother said with tears in her eyes. She placed her pointer finger underneath your chin. "It's time for you to enter the next chapter of your life. A lot is going to change, I know - but your whole life was spent preparing you for exactly that moment. You're a strong woman, Y/N. Never doubt that. And Loki is going to be a wonderful husband. He's the perfect match."

By now, you had to fight off the tears as well.

Your mother leaned in and placed a lingering kiss on your forehead. "I'm so proud of you, just like your father. I love you." You smiled; swallowing hard to get rid of the lump in your throat. "Thank you, mama. I love you, too." She gave you a loving, motherly smile and left to sit with the other wedding attendants.

You took a deep breath and with the sounds of the fanfare, you stepped through the golden doors and slowly walked down the red carpet towards Loki - who stood at the altar; dressed in his ceremonial armour, waiting for your arrival.

All eyes were on you, but you only had eyes for your prince.

When his eyes landed on you, they widened immediately; his mouth falling agape. He watched how your wedding dress swayed softly with each step you took.

She looks absolutely beautiful, he thought; feeling his heart beating rapidly against his chest.

It was all you needed in that moment.

You walked slowly, gracefully - like you've been taught. It felt like an eternity, until you finally reached him.

Loki immediately stretched out his hands for you to lay yours in his - and you did. The moment you touched, it felt like you could finally breathe normal again. His skin was so soft and warm; giving you the feeling of warmth and comfort. For you, his touch was a safe haven. He was anchoring you; preventing you to get lost in the sea of no-man's-land.

You looked up. His endless blue eyes met yours for the second time - and time seems to stand still around you. In that moment, it was only you and him.

You smiled and finally weren’t afraid anymore of the future. Not if it involved the man right in front of you.

[emeraldbloodcrown]

ONCE MORE

Chapter: One - Not Easy Pairing: Poly; Tattoo Artists!141 x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Deciding to get a head start in cleaning up the bakery, you end up hitting up the hardware store and meet a handsome stranger, willing to help you out. Content/Warning: Word Count: 2.6

Days passed, with both of you crashing in your old room, switching between who got to take the too old bed and who had to make due with a mattress on the floor. All of your essentials were strewn around your old desk or were still in your backpacks while the rest of your belongings had taken temporary residency in a storage facility.

In the meantime, you had been able to call a cleaning company and get them to sweep through the shop, taking all of the items that had fallen victim to the fire and documenting the damage for insurance. The safety assessment had already happened before your grandmother had written you, so today would be the first day, you’d be able to work towards the renovation.

You were sitting on the mattress, waiting for Anna to finish in the adjacent bathroom, while scrolling on your phone. You heard her return before you saw her as every step she took was accompanied by a small sound of discomfort.

“How can that bed be more uncomfortable than the damn floor?”

Without looking up, you answered her. “Cause it wasn’t chosen for comfort but for the design.” For emphasis, you clapped twice, making the LED butterflies around the frame light up.

“Never would’ve expected a 16-year old you to be so cheesy.”

“Don’t be jealous”

Anna stretched, letting out a satisfied groan when her spine cracked back into place, and she plopped down next to you.

“So what’s on the agenda?”

“Well we have someone coming to see if our electricity is intact, as well as check our plumbing, which wasn’t necessarily hit but since we have to renovate most everything, why not that too?”

Anna hummed.

“Grandma told me that the hardware store has some sort of sale today, so we should check that out and maybe get as much of what we’re gonna need as we can get.”

“Alright, you wanna do that? I can stay and be with the workers.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

Making a small detour to get yourself a quick breakfast on the way, after having to swear to your grandmother for the umpteenth time to only visit the family shops and ’not any of the fast-paced run of the mill stores that seemed to pop up everywhere’, you drove to the hardware store.

You still remembered it, having already existed for a long time before you were born but what had once been a small company with only a handful of employees, most of them related to each other, had expanded into a three story tall store.

When your grandmother had told you about needing your help with restoring her shop, you had anticipated that, until it got to the point of baking and selling, you’d be very out of your depth. Building had always been your grandfather’s thing, not something you held a lot of interest in, not that you would’ve been allowed to indulge in it if you had.

A part of you still recalled the look he had given you when you had needed a chisel for a school project and, not knowing the name for it, had just called it the ‘thing for wood stabbing’. An accurate description, you found, but he had not been amused.

So it wasn’t like you thought you would just wing it, but seeing the sheer size, and therefore implied variety in options, made you wonder if your original assessment of doing it yourself with the help of some friends and intense tutorials on YouTube wouldn’t just turn out to be very wishful thinking.

Still you decided to park your car and after minutes of circling the parking lot, you found a free spot quite a bit away out of the entrance. The sale had brought out more customers, you were sure, but you wondered just how well this shop was doing.

Grabbing a cart, you were still staring at the massive store, not watching where you were going and were suddenly taken out of your daydreaming when you stumbled into someone.

Losing your balance, you arm shot out to grab the pillar next to you to save you the landing on concrete, when at the same time the person grabbed your other arm, steadying you. Bitterly a part of you noticed, how he was completely unfazed by you bumping into him. He could’ve at least swayed a little out of politeness.

Apology and thanks already at the tip of your tongue, it remained exactly there when you took a look at the stranger.

At first glance, all you could think about was how handsome he looked, not quite sure if his rugged features was adding to that or if nothing could distract from and ruin his appearance.

He was wearing boots with dark jeans, both having seen better days, as they showed clear signs of wear and tear, as well as several paint blotches, with the jeans also having been haphazardly patched up.

Hoodie and coat were in the same condition, and you wondered if this was his usual attire for working.

Finally making it up to his face, you noticed his long hair, which peaked out underneath the beanie on top of his head, almost reaching his shoulders and curling around his neck. It seemed less of a fashion choice and more like he had just chosen to let his hair grow wild, which was only proven by the state of his beard. Full and long but also very unkempt.

Where you could see skin, he seemed to have strong feature, sharp jaw line only partially hidden but coming full force around his cheeks and brow. He looked wild, edging on dangerous but any fear his features might have caused were forgotten when you looked into his.

Blue.

Stunning and deep, and so very kind. There were little stress lines around them, accompanied by the darkness and bags underneath.

All in all, he looked rough, the kind you’d be polite to but keep a safe distance to. He looked like he had been dealt some shitty cards by life lately but despite it all, you couldn’t help but stare and think how beautiful those eyes of his were.

“Luv?”

And apparently he had also been blessed with an unfairly attractive voice.

In your daze, you only managed to reply with a dumbfounded: “Huh?”

Embarrassment flooded your system as soon as the words had left your mouth, pressing your lips into a thin line, before you tried to save some grace.

“Sorry, what was that?”

His hand on your arm tightened for a moment, only until he was sure you could keep your balance on your own, and then he let you go. You might not have noticed it, if it hadn’t been for you missing his warmth immediately, and the utter confusion at yourself that followed.

Alright. You made a mental note to check Tinder for any local hookups, if you were that touch starved that a stranger could cause such a reaction you were in more of a need for a good fuck than you had assumed.

“Was jus’ askin’ if you were alright. Didn’t get hurt?”

“I bumped into you. Should probably ask you that instead.”

The corners of his mouth lifted, making the lines around his eyes crinkle, giving his eyes a softer edge now.

“Takes a lot more than a pretty bird to send me tumblin’.”

You know it was meant to be a good-hearted joke, nothing serious but you still flushed a little and even he seemed taken aback by his words.

He cleared his throat, “So not hurt, right?”

Noticing the sudden awkwardness, you chose to simply hum in agreement and give him a little wave when you parted ways.

Except you didn’t, because as it turned out, you weren’t just heading to the same store but remaining on the same floor and even going to the same aisle. He looked over his shoulders, probably to make sure you weren’t some weird stalker but when he did, your eyes weren’t even on him.

Instead you looked up at the daunting and overwhelming variations of floor coatings, with more than half of them looking nearly indistinguishable to your very uninitiated eyes.

You looked and felt out of your depth and helpless, trying to figure out what the differences were, when your stranger took pity on you.

“First time?”

You heaved a sigh, “That obvious, huh?”

“‘fraid so. You want some help?”

You took a look at him but didn’t answer yet. Even in his kindness, he looked tired and you had a feeling that he would appreciate you rejecting his polite offer, but the chances of you faring without him were so thin, and with so many customers coming in for the sale, you doubted an employee would have enough time for you, so you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

“My grandma will have my head for this but I fear I’m gonna need it.”

He smiled again and you found yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often and making a mental note to try it for however long he was gonna help you.

“No beheading today. It’s no bother. What do you need?”

He closed the distance between you and you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. Pulling up the shopping list you had made beforehand, you turned your phone for him to see. His finger quickly scrolling over the display to see the length of the list before leading you to the first stop.

“I’m John, by the way.”

John turned out to be a saint, patiently explaining to you what each option he presented to you for each item on your list was for and what you needed to look out for when installing it.

“Pretty big project for a beginner.”

“Not by choice. My grandpa was the handyman in our family but I can’t really ask him, and actually calling in a service has always left me with outrageous bills. ‘Course I didn’t think I could just wing it, but last I was here this shop was much smaller.”

He hummed, taking one more glance at your phone before showing you another selection to choose from.

“Lived here before?”

“Yeah, grew up here for the most part actually.”

“Glad to be back?”

“For the most part, I guess. Not too sure just yet.”

John finished by putting the final piece into your cart, giving you a polite smile.

“Well, good luck to you.”

He turned on his heel but you stopped him as just letting him leave wasn’t sitting right by you.

“I know you said, it’s no bother but let me make it up to you.”

There was a moment where you looked at each other, both of you with crossed arms over your chest, trying to gauge who would give into the other first but John must’ve seen something in your eyes because he huffed a little before answering you.

“Alright, luv. Just give me a ring and I’m all yours.” He pulled a small notepad from one of his many coat pockets and quickly scribbled his number on it before handing it to you.

After he left you, you finally allowed you to smile at the weird encounter. That definitely hadn’t been on your schedule but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. Taking your cart, you pushed it towards check-out, bracing yourself for the next hurdle: actually paying for the many things in it.

There had been an easiness in John’s limbs as he got out of the shop, his lips almost humming as he got into the car and he caught himself tapping along the steering wheel but the closer he got to his destination, he felt the weight return, as if his bone marrow had turned into cement, dragging him down with every movement.

For a moment, he remained in his car after he parked, listening to the sounds around him and hoping against his better judgement to hear the familiar tunes, smell that scent of her baking, but of course there was nothing.

So he got out, grabbed his purchases and walked into his house. A house that was now solely his, despite the fact that it had been built for a family, for an ours. For her, by him.

The house was musty, needed to be aired and properly cleaned. John knew that if she could see the state it was in, she would throw a fit, tear him a new one for ever letting it come to this.

‘You gotta take care of our home’, she’d say, usually with a whisk in her hand, more often than not making her cinnamon apple buns, the very thing she brought him after their first date when he’d told he hated sweets and she’d told him, he’d love hers.

(She had been right.)

But that was just the thing. For her, their home had been their garden, the reading nook he’d built, the many pictures of their lives and all of the other finer things she had insisted on. For him, she had been his home, and with her gone, he couldn’t find it in him to care, partially hoping that the mess would call out to her and bring her back, even if he couldn’t.

Instead he had taken to disappearing in his work shed for hours on end, working on smaller and bigger projects, anything to take his mind of things. The only break of that routine was the daily phone call from Kate.

He answered her questions more on autopilot, but she hadn’t called him out for it yet so he counted his peaceful days for as long as he could, until she would inevitably drag him back to work to relieve Simon from doing his own and John’s job.

Almost, as if on cue, his phone rang, showing Kate’s number and he answered. He had the practiced replies ready for her but she finally asked him about what he had been doing, the words froze on the tip of his tongue, melted into liquid and got swallowed with saliva, as he surprised both Kate and himself by what he actually told he.

“I met someone today.”

“So what’s the verdict?”

Anna had come outside of the shop as soon as she saw your car pull up and had helped you with bringing your purchases inside. Afterwards, you had both grabbed a quick dinner, settling down on the ground while discussing your plans for the next step, also giving you a chance to check in with the results of her day.

“Well, thankfully it’s not really a must/red light situation and more a might as well/yellow situation. Both teams said that our electricity and water is working fine but that it’s gonna need some work soon, and since we’re already doing everything else, we might wanna look into that too.”

“That can’t be cheap…”

“Nope, but we should definitely be safe for at least a month or two. I mean, we did account for a lot of repairs.”

Taking a bite, you pointed at one of the papers next to her, the bright colors a stark contrast to the white of the service bills.

“What’s that?”

Following the direction of your finger, she pulled it out and showed it to you.

It was a flyer advertising an autumn festival, promising lots of foods, a show and some dancing.

“Didn’t take you for the type to go to these.”

Anna scoffed and shook her head.

“I’m not. But lots of the town’s people will probably be there.”

“And?” You prompted her to continue, not quite getting her point.

“And, your grandmother made such a fuss about community, not just from what you told me about her but also from all the times she reminded us to go to family shops instead of any of the new coffee shops or fast food restaurant. Would be a good way to get to know the people, maybe we’ll meet someone who can help us.”

[iouinotes]

All for you | Carl Gallagher

pairing: Carl Gallagher x female!reader

show: Shameless

warnings: angst, fluff, smut (the reader and Carl are 18 years old in this ff)

summary: Carl is challenged that he can get your money, if he makes you fall in love with him. He loves the challenge until he loves something else more...

authors note: sorry for so many pov switched, I didnt notice it, when I first wrote this ff. Also I haven't had the chance to watch all the seasons yet, but I still hope that Carl's character is somewhat accurate :))

Carl's pov

"Frank, goddamit youre no help! Why are you even lying around here - oh forget it, I don't want to hear it." Fiona's voice echoes in the room, while the entire Gallagher household is present.

The everyday discussion has been going on for too many minutes in which I could have done something better. The damn question “How do we get enough money?”

Lip at college, Ian with his gangster boyfriend, my shitty sister with her kid and then Liam. This family is screwed. No wonder with a father like Frank.

As the argument continues to escalate, I have the misfortune of sitting right next to him.

"You care to share some money, son?" Of course, my attempts to ignore him are unsuccessful.

"The drug trade doesn't always work out so well, but the weapon thing was something. You could give one to your good old dad, you know what the neighborhood is like." I run my hands through my hair in frustration, shaking my head.

"Just get one or two girls pregnant at school, then all of our problems are solved. But she has to be rich. After all, you want to get your hard work paid." Why the hell am I still here?

"You used to be more enthusiastic about my ideas. If you don't want to do play daddy, then use your charm. When I was your age, my cock was enough and the girls were happy."

"Be fucking quiet, no one wants to hear about your pathetic youth." It's no use, he keeps talking.

"I'm only saying, If you make a rich girl fall in love with you, then you can get money to do something nice for your family."

As I get up and walk away from him I take a breath, the tension caused by this idiot sucks.

Still, his words got me thinking. Maybe there's a new girl who would be perfect for this job...

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

When I moved here, I wasn't sure what to expect. New school, maybe mean classmates and bad cafeteria food. That I might be able to join a group and make friends, people who laugh with me in class or go to the cinema together on weekends.

I was prepared to get lost in the hallways a few times, perhaps to be peppered with embarrassing questions by the teachers. I had even prepared myself for being called a nerd again and therefore spending my lunch breaks alone.

Then things turned out differently. I met two girls who, although they scared me at first with their need to gossip all the time, are good people at heart.

They studied with me (meaning they told me the newest gossip and braided my hair while I did our homework), showed me the city and its pitfalls. I felt comfortable, prepared and confident for what awaited me here.

Oh lord, was I wrong.

On a Thursday in the middle of the week I met a boy who messed everything up. Literally.

I met him when he was running through the halls twenty minutes late, but stupidly didn't pay attention to me, who was about to cross his path. Let's put it this way, it ended with my books on the floor, my jacket hanging off my shoulder, and his hair being a huge mess.

When he looked at me, I expected to hear something like "sorry" or "I'll help you."

You want to know what he said?

"Cute top. Let me know if you need help taking it off."

Then he got up casually and walked into the classroom across the hallway, a grin on his face as if he had won the Bachelor title.

After this encounter two things became very clear to me. 1. Look both ways when crossing the halls and 2. Stop daydreaming about this boy, even if he has beautiful blue eyes.

The first thing worked better than the second.

After a few descriptions, which actually only consisted of "incredibly impudent and incredibly good-looking", it was explained to me who I was dealing with.

Carl Gallagher. A boy who has lived here since he was born, someone who is rumoured to be more dangerous than the Italian Mafia.

Even though I thought that was exaggerated, I quickly realized that I should stay away from him and that he meant trouble.

Aside from the fact that I wasn't going to be in the situation of talking to him again anyway, my eyes couldn't stop themselves from looking at him.

There was something that defined him, something that made me want to watch a grin creep across his face when he made an inappropriate joke, how he would push his blonde hair back and his eyes would shine mischievously, as if he had already planned the next bank robbery.

I wasn't the only one who found his charisma attractive tho, of course not when he looked like one of God's angels, but he never really seemed interested in other girls. At least not with any serious intent, you might hear him flirting or making comments about his free bed, but you would never saw him in a relationship.

He never held hands or kissed anyone, had a real smile on his face or said sweet things, he was just Carl.

Suggestive, hot-tempered and like a flag that proclaimed: Stay away from me, because you will lose this fight.

I also felt that if I continued to watch him, I would lose the battle for platonic feelings towards him too.

"Please don't tell me you're looking at our school bad boy again. You better be careful, he might want to sell you a gun." Kenzie's voice makes me sigh.

"These are just rumors. Besides, it's not my fault, he's just -" Her hand on my shoulder interrupts me.

"We know, you have heart eyes every time you talk about him. There are so many great guys in this world, I'm not saying at this school, but you choose this one?" Her look says more than a thousand words as she looks over at Carl, who is pushing his way trough the crowd.

"I'm not in love, just curious. Those are two different things, okay?" Her eyebrows raise.

"You mean, curious how his lips would feel on yours?" Her laughter at my expression is lost in the sounds of the cafeteria.

"Very funny." I murmur to her, food forgotten on my plate. When the school bell rings, I stand up and pick up my backpack.

"My class is canceled now, but I'm going to the library. Will you meet me later?" As I walk backwards I see her thumbs up and the hearts she makes in Carl's direction. My reaction is two quick middle fingers.

As I walk out of the school building, I check my phone and tie my hair into a braid. The library is a few blocks away and the cool air makes me shiver.

When I get there and wave to the boy at the entrance, I turn to my favorite department. Call it cliche, but I love romance books. I mean, I don't know what it feels like to love someone with all my heart, but that doesn't mean I don't love reading about it.

The books I actually need are a few rows away. History, literature, everything I am assigned to get for school.

As I stroke over a few tapes and finally pull out a book to read the first few pages, I hear a noise next to me that makes me look up. After all, the library is usually a pretty quiet place.

As I look into the familiar blue eyes, I feel my cheeks turn red.

I have to stop myself from staring.

"Always a book in your hand, I see." Oh his voice hasn't changed. I try to shrug casually as I answer, but I'm not sure if it actually works.

"Aren't you going to be late for class again?" At my sarcasm he smiles, he takes a step in my direction which weakens my control over my voice.

"I thought I would learn something somewhere else too." These coded words make me swallow.

"So, you're here often?" I almost think he's not answering me, but maybe I'm just not concentrating, because I'm paying too much attention to every mole on his face.

"Actually, I didn't even know this shitty town had a library." His words make me laugh, but several requests to be quiet around us, make me whisper in response.

"Then why are you here?" I think my breathing stops as his hand brushes my fingers that are still holding the book.

"You're here." I feel my heart beating nervously faster, I probably look pretty confused and when I notice his grin, something flutters in my chest.

"No interest in books, huh?" Can my answer actually be any lamer?

"Dont worry, I have a newfound interest in you."

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I would become friends with Carl Gallagher, I would have found the idea absolutely crazy. To be honest, I still find the situation insane, but damn my cheeks still turn just as red when he's with me as they did the first time.

It turns out that he really has no interest in books, even though he visited me at the library almost every day since we met in the romance department.

I've never met anyone like him, funny and couragous without any reserve, always looking for trouble, acting self-confident. But also sweet.

He's like a current that pulls you along, like a wind that blows so hard that you fly with it. He feels like freedom and it is wonderful.

He makes me laugh, he carries my books, plays with my hair, walks home with me. In such a short time I feel like he didn't knock on the doors to my heart, instead he made a home there.

Maybe this is what it feels like to fall in love.

It's not a gentle announcement, more of a realization that makes you incredibly desperate and happy at the same time.

But with him I actually just feel happy.

"Ready, sunshine?" As soon as I come out of the classroom, he comes towards me and takes my bag from me. My heart jumps at his gesture, which feels like winning the Olympics.

"You're crazy, where do you even want to go?" He has something planned but won't tell me. When he puts his arm around my shoulder and I lean against him, I get a few sideways glances from our classmates.

Carl ignores everyone like always, it's crazy but the way he's so confident is pretty attractive to me.

"Does the guy in your cheesy books also tell you where they go on dates? I bet not, so just wait."

🔗🔗🔗🔗

"It feels like you're kidnapping me."

I feel his smile on my back and have to giggle quietly at his response.

"Mh, I plan to do that. But only for a few hours, otherwise my head will roll tomorrow. Your father takes your curfew pretty seriously."

I feel his hands on my hips, guiding me forward, hear the birds chirping around us, but can't figure out where we're going.

"Just a few more steps, baby. Then you'll see." As he promised, it is only a few meters away and when I see a small, calm lake, my mouth falls open in surprise.

"Carl, oh my God! It's wonderful here, thank you so much." I turn around in his grip and look at him, his smile reflects the love that I feel.

"Yeah? How much do you like it?" As his eyes focus on my lips, I feel a tingling feeling in my stomach. Slowly, my fingers stroke his chest and I see him swallow, even though he tries to hide it.

"I think it's incredibly beautiful here, I love it. And...I really like you." I shyly lower my gaze, my words are met with an unknown silence that makes me anxious after a few seconds. But when I look up at him again, he pushes a strand of my hair out of my face.

"To me, you are much more beautiful than this sight. I like you too and I thought that was pretty obvious." I smile broadly, butterflies fly around in my stomach and as the sun illuminates his face, I feel incredibly happy.

"You're so nice to me, I don't know how I deserve this." An expression crosses his face, but when I blink he smiles at me again.

"After all, you are the first person who explained the topics for the history exam to me, without giving up." My hand cups his cheek.

"I wouldn't give you up, you've become too important to me." As I stand on my tiptoes, our lips brush, his hand is on my back and pushes me closer to him.

"You are an angel." With his words we kiss and everything else around us blurs, only he remains. Everything is unimportant except him, standing in front of me, so handsome, that it is difficult not to look at him.

"Come on, let's go for a swim." As he pulls me towards the lake, you can hear our loud laughter in the air.

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Carl's pov

"When are you going to collect the money? You've been with her for the last three months and nothing has come of it." Frank's annoying voice frustrates me more than anything else.

"I am working on it. Besides, she's actually really caring." When I see the dismissive hand gesture in my direction, I roll my eyes.

"You are completely wrong, son. A person is there for a certain period of time, but money? Money accompanies you throughout your life, especially if you buy beautiful bottles of the best alcohol."

I sink into the sofa, but want to turn away when I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"If you put it off any longer, it will be harder to get out of the situation. Girls your age will start planning to get married, if you stay with them for months."

But when he leaves, I feel conflicted. Can I really do this to her?

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Carl's pov

"Happy birthday!" Her voice makes me jump and, confused, I turn around on the bench to look into her excited eyes.

"Why are you jumping around like that? Are you practicing for cheerleading?" I'm making fun of her, but the smile on her face doesn't fade.

"No, idiot. I'm just really curious to see how you react to your gift." My breath catches for a moment as I take in her words.

"You got me something?" When she leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek while pressing the bag into my lap, I start to smile too.

"Open!" Her encouragement breaks me out of my trance and I quickly tear up the paper, looking at the tickets with wide eyes.

"But...these tickets cost a fortune? Did you sell your liver or something?" When I look at her, she smiles back at me.

"I talked to my dad and he agreed that you deserve something special for your birthday. Are you happy?" As I look at the cards, I suddenly feel a pang in my heart. It must be showing on my face, because her happiness is also fading away.

"Do you not like it? I thought it was your favorite team? I can get you something else." When I look at her, I quickly pull her between my legs and kiss her.

"Shh, breathe angel. It's perfect, thank you. And well, your father. It's just a lot of money." Her hands play with the fabric of my shirt.

"You always say that. Do you have problems at home, with money, I mean? I've never been to your place, I don't even know where you live." What should I say to her now?

"It's okay." Her raised eyebrows look at me reproachfully, making me sigh.

"Each of us has to contribute a certain amount of money every month and if I don't sell fucking drugs, it will be tight." Her astonished look makes me pause and I gently stroke her arms.

Before I can say anything else, she kisses me. I look at her in surprise.

"What's that for?" She smiles shyly, looks at the floor for a moment before looking at me again.

"You're just so honest, I admire that. And that you've never asked me for anything, you know. That I lend you some money."

Fuck. Shit. What do I say?

"Yeah, I mean, I don't want to burden you with that-" but she interrupts me again, her concentrated expression makes me curious.

"What's going on in your pretty head?" My hands wander over her sides.

"It's the end of the month, how much are you missing?" I frown in confusion, but when she doesn't let it go, I tell her the amount.

"$240, the rest I earned by helping in the neighborhood." But despite the high sum, she just nods, looks at me again and gives me another kiss.

"Okay, maybe I'll be your sugar mommy." I have to laugh at the absurdity, but the longer she grins at me, the more I think she means it.

"What, are you serious? Thats fucking crazy, how am I supposed to pay you back?" Her eyes look around, but since the classroom is relatively empty during recess, she finds herself between my legs again. She slowly lets her hand wander down my stomach until she squeezes my cock through my clothes and I close my eyes in delight.

"Hmm, maybe you could help me relax between classes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously and I look at her with a grin.

"Anything you want, sugar."

Let's put it this way, the next few weeks the breaks were filled with kissing in the back corner of the classroom, dry humping on the toilet or Carl doing his best to pleasure me with his tongue in the caretaker's room, like now.

"Ahh-, Carl. I'll cum if you keep that up." His head has disappeared under my skirt, his fingers are stroking the bare skin of my thigh and the sinful movements of his tongue are making me see stars.

As he adds a finger and runs it over my folds, slowly until he inserts it, he looks at me again.

"You coming for me? Yeah, be a good girl or do you want to get caught by the old janitor grandpa spreading your legs for me?" As my eyes roll back, he pumps another finger into me, scissoring it thoroughly and hitting that sweet spot inside me.

When I moan loudly, he grins.

"You like that? Just wait until I bury my cock in you and you cant walk straight afterwards, so that everyone will notice." When his finger presses my clitoris, I see white and as I come I try to muffle the sounds with my hand over my mouth.

When I get off my high, I blindly search for my panties. But Carl beats me first.

"Hmm, no. I think I'll keep it as a little souvenir. Maybe you can get it back when you come to my house later." I don't know what surprises me more: that he wants me to run around exposed at school or that I'm invited to his house for the first time.

"Really? I'd like to come." But he interprets my words differently, his fingers stroke my entrance again and I moan and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Very well and for a very long time." When the bell rings, he lets go of me and I whimper slightly.

"Carl-" but he interrupts me by pulling back and straightening my skirt.

"I'm sure our agreement was between recess, now it's class time. Come on, I'll make it up to you later."

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

As we ride the bus toward his home, I take his hand and intertwine our fingers.

"But don't expect a mansion or any of that shit." Ever since we left school, he has been bad-mouthing his hometown every free minute he has.

"Don't worry, I'll only have eyes for you anyway." The statement makes him laugh and he relaxes a little. As we get out and walk a little way along the street, we are watched by a few people.

"Why are so many people staring at us?" When he look at me, I'm obviously confused.

"Not everyone here wears designer clothes that cost several thousand dollars. If you come here more often, they'll call you a princess." Giggling, I slap him on the arm and as we climb the stairs to his house, I look around curiously.

"So this is where you grew up." His shoulders shrug casually, but I see him trying to gauge my reaction.

"Yeah, where in the world could it be nicer?" I laugh at his sarcastic comment and we both smile at each other as we enter the house.

I hear him calling into the house, then a girl with red hair appears, carrying a baby.

"You must be Debbie, the little one is so adorable." When I hold out my hand, she just looks at Carl with her eyebrows still raised.

"What did you do to end up with her? Also my daughter's name is Franny and yes, I know condoms exist." Surprised, I don't know exactly how to answer, so I leave it to Carl.

"My tongue is magic, Debs. Too bad you won't find out yourself anytime soon, Derek has moved away. By the way, Franny seems hungry." I'm unsure of the dynamic between the two of them, as she turns away and walks away, I resist the urge to say goodbye.

"That was...nice." His hand pulling me towards the stairs distracts me.

"She's a real ray of sunshine, come on. The others aren't back yet, so you can be as loud as you want this time."

When we get upstairs, he leads me into his room and I look at the magazines, posters and little things scattered everywhere.

"Cleaning and you are definitely not friends, huh?" I laugh at my joke, but Carl has other plans than letting me inspect his room.

He puts his hands on my hips and pushes me against the closed door, my breath catches as his eyes find mine.

"Do you want to keep playing housemaid? Then put on a damn maid costume, otherwise keep your eyes on me." At his stern voice, I press my thighs together and, grinning, I drag my fingers across his chest once again.

"Would you like that? Me on the floor, my ass in the air, and no underwear? Oh wait, what a coincidence that I'm not wearing any now either." His eyebrows raise, I see his eyes darken with lust.

"Let's save this little fantasy for another time, right now I just want to see you on my cock." Smiling, I lean towards him and start kissing him. I loosen the belt I bought him and pull him closer to me by his waistband.

"I think I did well today. After all, I didn't complain about getting through the school day without underwear. Do I get my reward now?" Grinning, he takes off my top and looks at my lace bra.

"Everything you want." He drops to his knees in front of me and kisses his way along my thighs, lifts my skirt and presses a kiss to my folds. Slowly he moves his tongue higher and kisses my stomach, I lean my head against the door.

"Does that feel good?" I just nod, burying my hand in his hair as he puts his mouth on me again.

"Ahh- Carl, I want you now." His fingers stretch me, the wetness running down my legs, making me tremble.

"You got me, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?" His head lifts to look at me and I place my fingers around his chin, seeing the moisture on his lips.

"I've been prepared enough, I want your dick now. Let's see if it's as magical as your tongue." Grinning, he stands up and lifts me up, lays me on my back on his bed and lies down between my legs.

He places a few kisses on my legs, then stretches up on his elbows so he's hovering over me. Then he kisses my cheek and my lips, lets his tongue slide over them and lets me taste myself.

I run my fingers through his blonde hair and pull his body closer to me. When he pulls a condom out of his pocket, I hold my breath.

"You still want to do this?" His look calms all the worries I had. I nod, stroking my fingers over his heated cheek.

"I trust you." His next kiss is passionate, his hands gliding over my body, caressing every bit of exposed skin. I lift my back off the mattress and let him take off my bra. His head lowers to run his tongue over my navel. As he sucks on them, I moan softly.

One of his hands starts kneading my breasts and when I try to take off my skirt, he stops me.

"Leave it on, okay?" I kiss him in response.

His hand strokes my sides and my own hands rest on his shoulders as he presses the tip of his cock against my entrance.

"Ready, baby?" When I agree, he presses himself into me and for a moment I have to squint my eyes because it hurts.

Then I feel several gentle kisses on my cheek, my forehead and my lips. His attempts to distract me work and as I become more and more relaxed, he slides further into me.

Slowly he presses his hips against me, the stretch so great that I can feel him all the way into my stomach. He waits for a moment, whispering sweet things in my ears until they get dirty and I beg him to move.

My hands wrap around his shoulders as he thrusts into me for the first time, the air around us thickening as he grunts and a moan escapes me.

"You're doing so well, God, you feel so good." His hips move faster and faster, the pleasure spreads through my body and the wetter I feel, the easier he slides in and out of me.

"You are perfect, my perfect girl. Do you feel good?" His hands stroke my skin, gently pinching my nipples, playing with them and making me squirm beneath him.

As he grips my hips and pushes himself harder into me, my head starts to spin. My noises get louder.

"Carl- god, please go harder" And so he does, the room is filled with the sounds of our bodies and sweat forms on us.

"Baby, do you want to ride me? You have such pretty thighs." I nod and when he pulls out of me I can't think clearly, I just want him to fill me up again.

He leans back and as I stabilize myself on his shoulders, I sink back onto him. The feeling is even better that my eyes roll back. His hands grasp my hips, helping me move.

"That's right, baby. You're doing so good, riding my cock like the good girl you are." At his words, I tighten my grip on him and he curses as I move harder on top of him.

The faster I go, the more exhausting it becomes, but as I feel a knot forming in my stomach, I ride him so fast just to chase my pleasure.

Then suddenly as he hits my spot inside me over and over again, I go boneless on him and melt in his arms. My come drips all over him and as he continues to fuck me, reaching his own climax, I tremble in his grip.

"Just a few more thrusts, baby. Ah, keep holding on to me." Even though I have lost my strength, I move on him a few more times until he comes and I lay my head on his shoulder.

We're both breathing heavily, but everything feels so good, so warm and comfortable, that I don't want to move a single muscle anymore.

He carefully pulls out of me, I moan slightly at the loss. He gently lays me back on his pillow and gives me a kiss before throwing the condom away.

He pulls the blanket over us and puts his arm around me to pull me closer. I snuggle up to him and feel so safe that I quickly press my lips to his skin.

"That was wonderful." He also presses a kiss on my hair.

"That was incredible, you are the best. I can't wait to do it again." Our embrace becomes tighter. For a moment the room is silent.

When I whisper his name, he hums in response.

"I know it's cliche to say something like that after the first time. But I just feel it so much that it hurts to keep it to myself. I love you." As I lie on his chest I hear his heart stop for a moment and then it starts beating much faster.

"I- no one has ever said that to me before." When I raise my head and look at him, he doesn't look at me. Instead, his eyes are fouced on the ceiling.

"I just want you to know. I don't want to put any pressure on you to say it. I just thought you should hear it. You know, now that things are serious between us." Again he is silent and I start to worry, but then he looks at me.

"You are truly the most incredible person I have ever met. I consider myself very lucky." He smiles at me, then leans down and we kiss for a moment. It feels like heaven.

We lay there for a few minutes, just cuddling and telling each other how our day was. We laugh and as the sun slowly sets, I start to get dressed.

"I wish I could stay here with you. But you know what my parents are like." He leans back on his elbow, watching me get dressed and contact my parents to pick me up.

"Hmm, I think we would do it again. If you stayed here tonight, I mean." I smile at him, sit down on his bed for a moment and ruffle his hair.

"I wouldn't mind, darling." The nickname makes him blush and when he leans forward to kiss me, I playfully push him away.

"I have to go, are you coming down with me?" He nods, feigning annoyance, and as we walk out of his room, he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me towards him.

He steals his kiss there, but more than that he steals my heart.

We smile at each other and for this moment everything is just perfect. We go downstairs and just as we are back in the living room we hear a door open loudly.

A visibly drunk man stumbles in. I see Carl tense up next to me, staring at the stranger angrily. I quietly lean towards him to whisper my question.

"Who is that?" When he rolls his eyes, I get a bad feeling.

"That's my father, great isn't it?" The man in front of me is dirty, has unkempt hair and an unpleasant smile on his face.

"Should I ask my parents if you can stay overnight?" My gaze is more focused on the man than on Carl.

But he just shakes his head, and just as he is about to answer, the man sees us too.

"Oh, my son! It's so good to see you, not really, but I'll take your bed. Fiona has mine. Is that your little girlfriend? She looks expensive, very good catch. How much money did you rip her off? I hope it's worth it to go through all this drama." I frown in confusion, but when Carl freezes next to me, I become uncertain.

"What does he mean by that?" This time my gaze is directed solely at Carl.

"Nothing, he's drunk-" but before he can finish, the man does.

"How rude of me, I am Frank. The proud father of this child, at least one of my descendants has made something of himself and used his talent. He has my good genes, the good looks and I teach him the tricks. Like exploiting an innocent, very very rich girl for money. It doesn't bother you, I hope? You seem to have enough, but I hope my son returns the favor to you."

The words catch me so off guard that I can't move. I don't believe anything this man says until I see the guilty look on Carl's face.

"W-what? That's a lie, right? Tell me he's lying, Carl." As he runs his hands through his hair and tries to answer me, Frank speaks again.

"Oh, you haven't confessed to her yet? My fault, I should have waited. I didn't think you would humiliate this girl for so long. I told you this wouldn't end well." But Carl ignores him completely when he notices me moving away from him.

"Wait, I'm sorry. It wasn't like that-" But I interrupt him, already feeling tears gathering in my eyes.

"So what happened? You act like you don't want any money from me and-" Carl's look becomes frustrated.

"You offered me your money! You said if I matched it, everything would be fine for you." I'm almost speechless, is this all a nightmare?

"Are you serious? I offered it to you because you weren't asking for it. And now I find out it was your plan from the beginning? You just talked to me, just spent time with me to get my money? Who does that?" Frank's voice intervenes.

"I invented the strategy, my dear. It's turning out to be quite useful." But I don't pay attention to him, I just look at Carl.

"Please, I'm sorry. Yes, it was meant that way in the beginning, but it's different now. I-" My tears flow when he admits it and any feeling of happiness disappears. All that remains is betrayal and sadness.

"You what? What am I saying, you were probably happy that I only wanted you in return. I'm such an idiot. You didn't just take my money, you took my first time too!" As he comes towards me, I step back.

"Listen to me, I didnt force you to do all this for me. You wanted it." The more he talks the more desperate I feel and the greater my anger becomes.

"You idiot! I thought you liked me! I thought you finally noticed me too." My sobs get louder and my vision blurs. When he tries to grab my face, I slap him.

"My cue to go. I can see that you're sorting it out between yourselves just fine." Frank's footsteps fading away are nothing compared to the sound of my heart breaking.

"I like you, I really like you. At first it wasn't my intention to start a relationship with you, but then I got to know you and-" Every word that escapes him is only worse.

"Stop talking! You know what the worst thing is that I liked you for so long before you even talked to me. And I thought it was a miracle when you first spoke to me in the libary. I should have listened to the others, you only care about yourself!" I wipe the tears from my cheeks, wishing I could be anywhere but here.

Then before he can say anything, I turn around and run out of the house. But I hear him following me.

"Wait! Don't just walk away, I have to get this straight. Hey!" He catches me, turns me around and holds my tear-stained face in his hands.

"I'm an idiot, I know that. I'm sorry for hurting you. I- God, I love you. You hear me? I love you too. Please stay." But I just shake my head and try to free myself from his grip.

"How do I know if that isn't a lie too? You've betrayed me, I can't talk to you now." When my car pulls up, I get in without turning around. I don't look back, even though his loud curse can be heard throughout the whole neighborhood.

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

I spend the next few days without saying much, but I cried almost the whole time.

I miss him incredibly, not a day has gone by in the last few months when I haven't seen him and now I've been alone for three days.

I wish he was here, but on the other hand I am so hurt and feel terrible. He is the reason for this.

I wish I had never found out. I wish he had never done it, never lied to me. Didn't use me for money, but worst of all, I don't know if he even likes me.

Today is the first day that I go back to school. Even though I put on make-up, choose a nice outfit and listen to my favorite songs to distract myself, I can only think of him.

His blonde hair, his beautiful eyes, the way his lips felt. How he felt inside me. Then I remember that he loves me and how he finally said it, something I have wanted to hear for so long.

But then I think about what he did and everything feels empty again.

As I enter the school, my friends come to meet me. They already know what happened, they all hug me and I feel a little better.

Until I see him.

And he sees me too. It takes all my effort to avert my gaze. To get my books out of my cupboard, but then I have to stop because he is not standing next to me offering to carry them.

I take it myself, close my door, but before I can go any further, he is standing in front of me. My heart stops. Oh, how his eyes shine.

"Do you need help?" His eyes focus on the books and I have to swallow several times before I can answer.

"No, I have to go to class now." But as I try to walk past him, he stops me.

"You don't answer my texts, you don't call me back. I'm not allowed into your house and you avoid me at school. What can I do? Please tell me what I need to do, so you forgive me." I laugh, but it is without humor.

"What can you do? Move."

I can see his shock, but he still doesn't step aside.

"Can't you hear me? I said-" but he walks toward me until I'm forced to lean my back against the lockers.

His eyes find mine.

"I can't sleep. And when I do, I dream of you. There's a - a hole in my heart that only you can fill. It hurts and I hate not being with you. It's even worse to be here, when you don't look at me the way you usually do. You don't smile at me, God, you don't look like you're in love with me anymore. It's hell."

Tears gather in my eyes, his words are so desperate, it hurts to see him like this.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you took advantage of me. Before you slept with me." A tear runs down my cheek and I know my mascara is smudging.

"I know, I know. And I feel so bad, I'll do anything to make it right. Just tell me."

When I look into his eyes, my heart also hurts.

"Move, Carl. I can't see you now." This time he lets go of me and I go to class with tears in my eyes.

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

It's been four weeks since we last spoke, but it doesn't hurt any less to see him. Even if I don't let him talk to me, he doesn't give up.

He puts flowers in my locker, chocolate, and notes full of apologies and sweet promises.

Everything warms my heart, but it still feels like this money thing is unresolved between us. I know now that he likes me, very much in fact, as he makes it clear, but that doesn't change the real problem.

That he used me for my money.

As I leave school that day, I feel exhausted and, as I often do, I wish I had his arms around me.

Holding me tight, his lips kissing me, loving me.

As I wait for my father's car, I suddenly hear his familiar throat clearing. With my heart pounding, I turn around and see him smiling uncertainly at me.

"I know what I had to do and now I've done it. Here." He gives me an envelope and I take it uncertainly.

"Carl, your letters are flattering, but-" He quickly interrupts me.

"No, it's something else. Open it." The deja vu hits me unexpectedly and I slowly open the envelope, the content leaves me speechless.

"What is that supposed to be?" It's rhetorical, but I ask anyway.

"All the money I owe you. What you've kindly given me, I pay it back. Every cent. You can count." He looks so proud, I almost have to laugh.

"How- did you rob a bank?" He grins contentedly at my reaction.

"An old grandma." This time I laugh and he comes closer to me, slowly taking my hands.

"No, seriously. How did you do that?" He looks at me lovingly.

"Working in the kitchen every day after school, I found a part-time job with Fiona. The payment is bad, but it was worth it. I understand that money was the problem and well, that I wasn't honest to you." As I lower the envelope, we look at each other.

"Promise, no more secrets?"

He smiles and suddenly the world is a brighter place.

"Promise, but we continue one of our agreements." I raise my eyebrows questioningly, seeing him grin as he leans toward me, his breath brushing against my lips and he whispers:

"I'll still spend my breaks with you in the janitor's room."

The laughter that escapes me gets interrupted, when his lips meet mine.

[hubbvrd]

Crush | Joe Burrow

In which Joe asks you how to know if you're in love with someone

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The fresh smell of coffee and sweet pastries hit Joe's nose as he pushed open the woodsy door of his favorite coffee shop.

He quickly slipped into the air-conditioned interior and took a quick but searching look around.

His gaze stopped at his regular table, where he did not discover the person he had hoped for.

For at his regular place sat a mother with her little son, who could not have been more than two years old.

The little boy was sitting in a high chair eating his cake while his mother sat next to him, proudly watching her son as he clumsily shoved his fork into his mouth.

"Excuse me young man, may I?" , an older voice snapped Joe out of his daydreams, bringing Joe back to the here and now.

"Yes, please?" Joe asked kindly as he looked to the older lady who was balancing several coffee mugs on her hand while holding a large café bag in the other.

"Could you maybe..." , she began the sentence, but Joe knew directly what she wanted from him and opened the door for the elderly lady, who thanked the quarterback.

"Do you want me to take something from them and accompany them?" , he asked her politely as he followed her a step outside, but the elderly lady shook her head.

"Oh, thank you very much, but my car is right over there."

Awkwardly, the older lady tried to balance the coffee mugs, which were in a designated position, as she began to rummage in her bag - possibly looking for her car keys.

Without thinking twice, Joe took a step towards the elderly lady to take the coffee mugs from her, so that the lady could look for her keys in peace.

She gave him a quick look of thanks before digging her key out of her pocket and holding it up in the air.

"Found it," she said with a smile, taking the coffee mugs back. "Your girlfriend must be very lucky to have such an attentive man in her life."

Joe raised one eyebrow in confusion, while his gaze continued to rest calmly on the old woman, who put the coffee mugs, which had slipped slightly, back down neatly.

"In fact, there is no one at my side" , Joe said.

"Oh, but then your future girlfriend will have it especially good with you."

The older lady patted Joe's hand briefly as she thanked him again and headed across the street to her car.

If she ever becomes my girlfriend, Joe thought to himself as he turned and made his way back inside the café.

—

"Can I get you anything yet, Joe?" Maxime, the waitress, asked him after he had sat down on one of the tables at the end of the café, where he hopefully remained undiscovered as much as possible.

But he was not too worried about that right now, because it was just early noon and therefore the rush in the café was not too big, so he had to fear that he would not be able to get out of taking pictures and signing autographs.

Because there were actually often one or the other day, on which it remained impossible for him to remain unrecognized.

"Uhm" , he said, pausing as he considered whether he should really order already.

After all, there was still nothing to be seen of y/n far and wide. Probably one of her university classes went on a bit longer again or she was delayed by one of her lecturers.

"I'll wait", he said after a short consideration, because he decided to order only when y/n would be with him.

For he knew how much she hated cold tea. In fact, y/n preferred tea, which Joe could not understand.

After all, how could anyone perk up without coffee?

"Alright. Just let me know if you want to order." , she let him know before turning away and then beginning to attend to other guests.

Joe sat back and reached for his cell phone, which he had placed next to him on the table, to see if y/n might have texted him that she was running late.

But nothing.

Briefly, the quarterback considered calling her. But he decided against it, because he knew that y/n had always kept her appointments and if something had come up, she had canceled.

While Joe waited, he glanced through the large window, which revealed a view of the adjacent park, where all the blooming flowers and shrubs could be seen up to here, bathing the park in a beautiful colorful blob.

Shortly after, his cell phone rang, causing him to wince in shock before he answered without looking to see who was calling him.

"Burrow?"

"Hello my favorite quarterback! I hope you're not waiting too long for me at the coffee shop. I've been delayed by my annoying lecturer! I just got out of college..." , y/n began and Joe listened to her get upset with her lecturer, which made Joe smile.

"Oh man, I think this calls for a large coffee and a raspberry muffin now?" , Joe asked, knowing he had hit the mark.

"Yeah, did you order already?"

Joe heard y/n cross the street as the traffic noise suddenly doubled.

"No not yet, I was going to wait for you. Do you want me to order takeout and meet you there? I think after this stressful college day you could use some fresh air" , as Joe spoke he had gotten up and walked over to the counter, in front of which he joined the small line.

"How do you always know exactly what I need right now?" , he heard y/n sigh contentedly at the other end.

"Um, I guess I'm a good best friend and listener?"

"Okay, okay, okay. Now don't praise yourself too much. I'll see you at the bench in the park in five minutes!"

Before Joe could say anything else back, y/n had already hung up and Joe looked at his lock screen for a few seconds, which showed himself as the background, before it was his turn to order.

—

Searching, Joe looked around again while holding the two mugs in one hand and a small bag containing a raspberry and a blueberry muffin in the other.

Unlike the café, the park was quite crowded, so he let his gaze wander more slowly through the surroundings in order to be able to discover y/n.

Around him, a few people were walking their dogs, and on the small playground that was a bit away from him, a kindergarten group was playing, which seemed to be on an outing.

But he couldn't spot y/n among all the people, so he let out a light sigh and kept his eyes on the path.

With quick steps y/n entered the park and dodged the one or other dog, which romped across the path without a leash.

Her eyes searched the park for Joe, whom she spotted shortly after, standing with his back to her.

She was quite sorry that Joe had been waiting in vain at the café for the last few minutes.

But even though she couldn't help it, since her lecturer, who had gone through the homework assignments with her, had held her up, she felt guilty.

And that's why she hurried to get to her best friend, which is why she almost ran over to him and then snuck the last few feet towards him and covered his eyes.

Joe flinched in fright as it suddenly went dark in front of his eyes and he felt cold hands on his eyes.

But he relaxed immediately as he caught the all-too-familiar scent he had smelled countless times before and given away himself.

"Y/n!" , he said directly and within seconds his hands were removed from his eyes.

"How did you know?" , y/n asked sulkily as Joe turned to face her.

"I smelled your perfume. Maybe next time you should wear something more inconspicuous."

Joe handed y/n her coffee mug, which contained her favorite tea, from which y/n took a big gulp and sighed with pleasure.

This was exactly what she had brought now.

"Hm..." , she murmured as she pressed the still lukewarm cup against her palm and then dropped onto the bench behind her.

"You're unfair, Burrow..." , she mumbled as she reached into the bag and then bit into the raspberry muffin.

"What did I do now?" , Joe asked, eyebrows raised in confusion as he also reached for his muffin and bit into it as well.

"Oh, nothing."

The muffins were still warm, just the way the two liked it best, which is why they hurried to eat the muffins as quickly as possible.

"How was your day?" , she asked Joe and he began to tell her about the elderly lady at the café.

Attentively y/n listened to him while she kept breaking off a piece of the muffin and then shoving it into her mouth.

"And then she said: but then your future girlfriend will have it especially good with you". , Joe finished his narrative, eliciting a giggle from y/n.

"How sweet" , she said, dragging out the word 'sweet' impossibly, causing Joe to roll his eyes.

"But while we're at it, how are things with the women?" , y/n inquired as she wiped the crumbs off her pants and then sat down cross-legged, looking curiously at her best friend.

In doing so, however, she concealed from Joe the fact that she was incredibly fond of the quarterback. If 'fond' wasn't a bit of an understatement, she had actually fallen a little in love with Joe.

But she would never tell him that openly, because she didn't have a good feeling about it.

After all, the two of them were friends and that could or would ever become more, could not happen.

Because that's exactly what the two had sworn to each other a few years ago, so that in the end, in the worst case scenario, their friendship wouldn't break up exactly because of that.

"Uh..." Joe began the sentence, but left it hanging in the air, unfinished.

Joe thought about how he could best get around this answer. But he might not have had a chance with y/n to avoid this question so easily.

Because y/n was a person who didn't make it too easy for other people to simply dodge questions, which is why Joe decided on a counter question.

"How do I know if I have a crush on someone?"

Joe slowly sat back as he buried his trembling fingers in the pocket of his hoodie, swallowed briefly, and then looked everywhere but at y/n.

He tried to ignore his heart, which slowly began to snake faster against his ribs, as best he could.

Stay cool, Burrow, he told himself quietly in his mind, trying to relax a little.

But the fact that y/n next to him remained silent didn't ensure that he succeeded in doing so right now.

So he loosened his gaze from the point he had fixed until just now and looked over at y/n.

Y/n thought for a few seconds about Joe's question and how she could best answer him.

"Well, you can't stop thinking about them, you feel strange when they're around and you want to -" Y/n broke off the sentence when she noticed that Joe was looking at her strangely. Almost staring at her strangely.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" The question slipped quietly from her lips as Joe had come dangerously close to her, so she could hear her heart hammering almost continuously against her ribs, and she suddenly felt quite warm.

"Because...Because I have a crush on you..."