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Sandra Newman’s “Julia”
The first chapter of Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four has a fantastic joke that nearly everyone misses: when Julia, Winston Smith's love interest, is introduced, she has oily hands and a giant wrench, which she uses in her "mechanical job on one of the novel-writing machines":
https://gutenberg.net.au/ebooks01/0100021.txt
That line just kills me every time I re-read the book – Orwell, a novelist, writing a dystopian future in which novels are written by giant, clanking mechanisms. Later on, when Winston and Julia begin their illicit affair, we get more detail:
She could describe the whole process of composing a novel, from the general directive issued by the Planning Committee down to the final touching-up by the Rewrite Squad. But she was not interested in the finished product. She 'didn't much care for reading,' she said. Books were just a commodity that had to be produced, like jam or bootlaces.
I always assumed Orwell was subtweeting his publishers and editors here, and you can only imagine that the editor who asked Orwell to tweak the 1984 manuscript must have felt an uncomfortable parallel between their requests and the notional Planning Committee and Rewrite Squad at the Ministry of Truth.
I first read 1984 in the early winter of, well, 1984, when I was thirteen years old. I was on a family trip that included as visit to my relatives in Leningrad, and the novel made a significant impact on me. I immediately connected it to the canon of dystopian science fiction that I was already avidly consuming, and to the geopolitics of a world that seemed on the brink of nuclear devastation. I also connected it to my own hopes for the nascent field of personal computing, which I'd gotten an early start on, when my father – then a computer science student – started bringing home dumb terminals and acoustic couplers from his university in the mid-1970s. Orwell crystallized my nascent horror at the oppressive uses of technology (such as the automated Mutually Assured Destruction nuclear systems that haunted my nightmares) and my dreams of the better worlds we could have with computers.
It's not an overstatement to say that the rest of my life has been about this tension. It's no coincidence that I wrote a series of "Little Brother" novels whose protagonist calls himself w1n5t0n:
https://craphound.com/littlebrother/Cory_Doctorow_-_Little_Brother.htm
I didn't stop with Orwell, of course. I wrote a whole series of widely read, award-winning stories with the same titles as famous sf tales, starting with "Anda's Game" ("Ender's Game"):
https://www.salon.com/2004/11/15/andas_game/
And "I, Robot":
https://craphound.com/overclocked/Cory_Doctorow_-_Overclocked_-_I_Robot.html
"The Martian Chronicles":
https://escapepod.org/2019/10/03/escape-pod-700-martian-chronicles-part-1/
"True Names":
https://archive.org/details/TrueNames
"The Man Who Sold the Moon":
https://memex.craphound.com/2015/05/22/the-man-who-sold-the-moon/
and "The Brave Little Toaster":
https://archive.org/details/Cory_Doctorow_Podcast_212
Writing stories about other stories that you hate or love or just can't get out of your head is a very old and important literary tradition. As EL Doctorow (no relation) writes in his essay "Genesis," the Hebrews stole their Genesis story from the Babylonians, rewriting it to their specifications:
https://www.penguinrandomhouse.com/books/41520/creationists-by-e-l-doctorow/
As my "famous title" stories and Little Brother books show, this work needn't be confined to antiquity. Modern copyright may be draconian, but it contains exceptions ("fair use" in the US, "fair dealing" in many other places) that allow for this kind of creative reworking. One of the most important fair use cases concerns The Wind Done Gone, Alice Randall's 2001 retelling of Margaret Mitchell's Gone With the Wind from the perspective of the enslaved characters, which was judged to be fair use after Mitchell's heirs tried to censor the book:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suntrust_Bank_v._Houghton_Mifflin_Co.
In ruling for Randall, the Eleventh Circuit Court of Appeals emphasized that she had "fully employed those conscripted elements from Gone With the Wind to make war against it." Randall used several of Mitchell's most famous lines, "but vest[ed] them with a completely new significance":
https://law.justia.com/cases/federal/appellate-courts/F3/268/1257/608446/
The Wind Done Gone is an excellent book, and both its text and its legal controversy kept springing to mind as I read Sandra Newman's wonderful novel Julia, which retells 1984 from the perspective of Julia, she of the oily hands the novel-writing machine:
https://www.harpercollins.com/products/julia-sandra-newman?variant=41467936636962
Julia is the kind of fanfic that I love, in the tradition of both Wind Done gone and Rosenkrantz and Gildenstern Are Dead, in which a follow-on author takes on the original author's throwaway world-building with deadly seriousness, elucidating the weird implications and buried subtexts of all the stuff and people moving around in the wings and background of the original.
For Newman, the starting point here is Julia, an enigmatic lover who comes to Winston with all kinds of rebellious secrets – tradecraft for planning and executing dirty little assignations and acquiring black market goods. Julia embodies a common contradiction in the depiction of young women (she is some twenty years younger than Winston): on the one hand, she is a "native" of the world, while Winston is a late arrival, carrying around all his "oldthink" baggage that leaves him perennially baffled, terrified and angry; on the other hand, she's a naive "girl," who "doesn't much care for reading," and lacks the intellectual curiosity that propels Winston through the text.
This contradiction is the cleavage line that Newman drives her chisel into, fracturing Orwell's world in useful, fascinating, engrossing ways. For Winston, the world of 1984 is totalitarian: the Party knows all, controls all and misses nothing. To merely think a disloyal thought is to be doomed, because the omnipotent, omniscient, and omnicompetent Party will sense the thought and mark you for torture and "vaporization."
Orwell's readers experience all of 1984 through Winston's eyes and are encouraged to trust his assessment of his situation. But Newman brings in a second point of view, that of Julia, who is indeed far more worldly than Winston. But that's not because she's younger than him – it's because she's more provincial. Julia, we learn, grew up outside of the Home Counties, where the revolution was incomplete and where dissidents – like her parents – were sent into exile. Julia has experienced the periphery of the Party's power, the places where it is frayed and incomplete. For Julia, the Party may be ruthless and powerful, but it's hardly omnicompetent. Indeed, it's rather fumbling.
Which makes sense. After all, if we take Winston at his word and assume that every disloyal citizen of Oceania is arrested, tortured and murdered, where would that leave Oceania? Even Kim Jong Un can't murder everyone who hates him, or he'd get awfully lonely, and then awfully hungry.
Through Julia's eyes, we experience Oceania as a paranoid autocracy, corrupt and twitchy. We witness the obvious corollary of a culture of denunciation and arrest: the ruling Party of such an institution must be riddled with internecine struggle and backstabbing, to the point of paralyzed dysfunction. The Orwellian trick of switching from being at war with Eastasia to Eurasia and back again is actually driven by real military setbacks – not just faked battles designed to stir up patriotic fervor. The Party doesn't merely claim to be under assault from internal and external enemies – it actually is.
Julia is also perfectly positioned to uncover the vast blank spots in Winston's supposed intellectual curiosity, all the questions he doesn't ask – about her, about the Party, and about the world. I love this trope and used it myself, in Attack Surface, the third "Little Brother" book, which is told from the point of view of Marcus's frenemy Masha:
https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250757531/attacksurface
Through Julia, we come to understand the seemingly omniscient, omnipotent Party as fumbling sadists. The Thought Police are like MI5, an Island of Misfit Toys where the paranoid, the stupid, the vicious and the thuggish come together to ruin the lives of thousands, in such a chaotic and pointless manner that their victims find themselves spinning devastatingly clever explanations for their behavior:
https://www.bbc.co.uk/blogs/adamcurtis/entries/3662a707-0af9-3149-963f-47bea720b460
And, as with Nineteen Eighty-Four, Julia is a first-rate novel, expertly plotted, with fantastic, nail-biting suspense and many smart turns and clever phrases. Newman is doing Orwell, and, at times, outdoing him. In her hands, Orwell – like Winston – is revealed as a kind of overly credulous romantic who can't believe that anyone as obviously stupid and deranged as the state's representatives could be kicking his ass so very thoroughly.
This was, in many ways, the defining trauma and problem of Orwell's life, from his origin story, in which he is shot through the throat by a fascist: sniper during the Spanish Civil War:
https://www.rjgeib.com/thoughts/soldiers/george-orwell-shot.html
To his final days, when he developed a foolish crush on a British state spy and tried to impress her by turning his erstwhile comrades in to her:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Orwell%27s_list
Newman's feminist retelling of Orwell is as much about puncturing the myth of male competence as it is about revealing the inner life, agency, and personhood of swooning love-interests. As someone who loves Orwell – but not unconditionally – I was moved, impressed, and delighted by Julia.
Tor Books as just published two new, free LITTLE BROTHER stories: VIGILANT, about creepy surveillance in distance education; and SPILL, about oil pipelines and indigenous landback.
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/09/28/novel-writing-machines/#fanfic
#pluralistic#reviews#books#orwell#george orwell#nineteen eighty-four#1984#little brother#fanfic#remix#gift guide#science fiction#sandra newman
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Need You Now | Eddie Munson x F!Reader
Requested by @mmunson86 : Eddie and Reader were best friends who secretly liked each other, but then they went their separate ways after high school and kind of lost contact. one day, Eddie runs into Steve, who still talks to Reader, and after five years he realizes that he should’ve taken his shot and I don’t know maybe he has the urge to call her and instead he just shows up at her doorstep in the pouring rain he’s drenched in water, and he tells her how she feels and hopes that she does and well she does feel the same (Eddie finally asks her to be his girl) & well it gets smutttty 🥹💗 included the song Need you Now by Lady A
Cw: angst, mutual pining, friends to strangers to lovers, fluff, no use of y/n reader is referred to with nicknames (Peach, sweetheart, baby) smut, p in v, dirty talk, one mention of birth control, no use of condoms, creampies? Alchohol.
wc: 7.6k
comments and reblogs are always appreciated and encouraged <3
August 1984.
"So this is it, huh?" Eddie was completely taken aback by the suddenness of it all. He had known deep down that this day would eventually arrive, but it had always felt like a distant threat. Now that it was here, he struggled to come to terms with the fact that you were leaving him. You had always been ambitious, and he was incredibly proud of everything you had accomplished. But the thought of being left behind while you went on to bigger and better things was a tough pill to swallow. Despite his own feelings of loss and sadness, however, Eddie knew that he couldn't stand in the way of your dreams - he would never be the kind of person to hold someone back from reaching their full potential.
"Y-yeah." you sigh with shaky breath.
How could you leave him? The guilt gnawed at you because, even after everything, you never got to tell him how you felt. Now you are standing in the airport, feeling lost. It's too little, too late for confessionals.
Since you can remember, going to school in England has been your dream. You made it a mission and are now attending the University of Cambridge. You got in on a scholarship and scrapped up every penny working at Family Video for your four years of high school.
"You better write to me and all that shit" he pointed.
This made you giggle. "Of course, I'll even call once in a while. Hopefully, the long-distance charges won't be too lethal." You play with the chain hanging from your neck. You never took it off.
"Oh! I almost forgot... here!." Eddie rummaged around his pockets and pulled out a small wrapped gift. "Uh, open it when you get there, okay?"
"Teddy, you didn-"
"I wanted to. Please? Just take it." Eddie’s heart fluttered at your name of endearment.
You reach for the gift, fingers brushing, and you swear you feel sparks fly. You instantly jump into him, arms wrapping around his neck, taking in his feel, scent, and touch. Fuck this hurts more than you thought it would. But you kept telling yourself it wouldn't be forever, only four years; you could survive that. And you would be home in the summers. It wouldn't be so bad.
Tears threaten to fall as they rim your lashes. "I'll miss you," you sniffle, and your voice cracks.
It breaks Eddie's heart to see you like this. You were his girl, well, not technically, but you had his heart. You had it from the first moment he saw you in ninth-grade science when you were assigned to be his lab partner. From then on, you were as thick as thieves; if only you felt the same way...
"All passengers for flight 739, please make your way to gate 67; you are now boarding." Your heart sinks at the announcement; that was you. No more stalling.
You turn to your parents, giving them another tight hug, then quickly turn to Eddie again. You hug him once more, as tight as you can this time.
"You're squishing me, Peach. Can't. Breath." He jokes, and you look up at him with glossy eyes.
You reach up to your tiptoes, kiss his stubbly cheek and mutter the words he has been waiting to hear for the past four years. "I love you, Eddie."
Eddie was stunned, did he hear you correctly? You don't give him time to answer because you quickly turn without another word, not giving him a chance to speak, and you run. You run to the gate and don't look back.
For most of the flight, your mind was racing. You couldn't help but feel like a coward. Your mind was racing with questions and doubts. What if Eddie misunderstood your words as just platonic love? Or would he understand that you were actually in love with him?
You sat on the plane, staring at the gift box Eddie handed you. It was a small black square box with a red bow. Nothing fancy.
Once you were over international waters, you decided you couldn't wait anymore and opened it up.
As you slowly lift the lid, the tears start to well up in your eyes again. Your heart is pounding as you peer inside the small box and handwritten note and a silver mood ring were nestled inside. You reach in and carefully pick up the note and begin to read.
Dear, Peach
I am going to miss you so much, so here is a small token to remember me by…
Your Teddy.
You sniffle as you pick up the ring and hold it up to the overhead light to get a better look.
You turn it over in your fingers, examining every detail, trying to confirm whether or not this was Eddie's ring. It looks exactly like the one he wore daily, but you can't be sure. You had never seen him without it before? You try to think about if he had it on at the airport.
As you examine the ring, memories of Eddie flood your mind. You remember how he constantly fiddled with it, absentmindedly twisting it around his finger. You remember how he told you it was his mother's ring and how much it meant to him. But now, as you hold it in your hand, you can't believe he did this.
You try to slide it onto your fingers, but it's too loose to stay in place. You don't want to give up on the ring, though. It's too precious to lose. Suddenly, a thought strikes you, and you take off your necklace. You carefully latch the ring onto the chain, ensuring its security. You can keep it close to your heart as you wear it around your neck...
Now, 1991
"Peach?!” You jump and turn; you were startled when browsing the chips section at the Dollar Store. “Holy shit, it is you!"
"Steve?" You smile brightly and embrace him in a hug when you realize who is speaking to you. Not even twenty-four hours back home, and you’re already bumping into old friends. You had forgotten how small Hawkins really was.
"What the hell are you doing here?!" he asked with a bright smile across his face.
"Brian-you remember my brother Brian? He's getting married, had to come back for the wedding." You smile.
"When did you get back?! Have you seen anyone? Oh god, everyone is going to be thrilled." He hugged you again for good measure to make sure it was really you.
"I got back late last night; I'm still jetlagged, so I haven't seen or reached out to anyone yet... I don't think I have anyone's numbers anymore; it's been so long..." You felt so guilty. Your life in Hawkins was worlds away. You had been so busy once you graduated. You hadn't been home in about four years; visiting you was easier for your folks.
"I'll alert the media; I'll be the town crier! Let everyone know Peach is back!"
"Thanks, Stevie," you giggled.
"How long are you in town for?"
"Ummm, that's the thing; I think I am back for good?" Sure, you loved being overseas, but seven years was so long you missed your life back home, your family, your friends, and your visa was running out.
"This is amazing! Oh, we have to all get together to celebrate!"
"How um- how is everyone?"
"Good! Robin and I are roommates, Nancy and Jonathan are still going strong, Dustin, Mike, Lucas and Will, El and Max are off at their different colleges..."
"What, uh-what about Eddie?" You hadn't mutter his name in years. Things fell off like they did with everyone else. You used to write almost every day, but then school, friends, and boyfriends happened, and eventually, the letters stopped altogether.
The two of you never spoke of the "I love you" statement you made at the airport. You tiptoed around it like it didn't happen. Sometimes, you wished you had stayed to hear what he would have said, and other times, you were glad you ran. You took the hint that he didn't feel the same way when he never said anything back in his letters or the few times you called him.
"Oh, Ed's is great! Yeah, he has his own shop downtown; you know how good he was with fixing cars and all that. He got promoted a few months back when Richards decided to retire..." You smile at the thought of Eddie finally owning up to his potential.
"Oh, well, um, that's amazing! I really missed you guys." You sighed, subconsciously playing with the ring attached to the chain around your neck. You hadn't taken it off in the seven years you had been away.
"Well, I better get going, but I'll call you, ok?"
"Yeah, I'm with my folks for now until I find an apartment, so same number,” you smiled.
When you leave Steve, your mind can't help but race with thoughts of seeing Eddie again. Seven years is a really long time; would he still have his long hair? Would he have a girlfriend? Oh god, what if he has a girlfriend? Of course, he would have a girlfriend. He's Eddie. He is the most flirtatious guy out there; there is no way he would be sitting around waiting for you. Not that he would be waiting for you... he never said those three words back.
It's been less than twenty-four hours since you've been back in Hawkins, and yet your thoughts are consumed by memories of him. The sound of his voice echoes in your mind as if you had heard him yesterday... The way he laughed, the way he walked, and the way he used to look at you. His presence has left an everlasting mark on your psyche, and you can't help but wonder what he's doing right now, whether he's thinking about you too, or if you'll ever see him again.
Your stuff was all over the new apartment. You managed to score a place not too far from everyone, and it only took about a week and a half to find, sign and finalize a place to live.
The living room was filled with countless cardboard boxes, each one crammed with different items from your childhood home and England.
As you rummaged through them, your attention was suddenly grasped by a photo album that had been buried deep inside one of the boxes. It took you by surprise - I had completely forgotten about it. As you held it in your hands, you couldn't help but feel a rush of nostalgia and curiosity, wondering what picture-perfect memories were inside.
You grabbed your drink from the side table and crawled on the messy couch covered in old newspapers and bubble wrap. Pictures of you with the gang, in the Wheelers basement, at lovers lake, in the trailer…
Memories of late nights, early morning school pick ups, dnd creation sessions, forcible study sessions that ended up just you two talking for hours on end, Eddie making you fall for him and him you with neither of you were the wiser.
The phone ringing breaks you out of the trance. You scramble up off the couch the photo album falls off your lap and onto the floor as you scurry over to the phone mounted on the wall.
“Hello?” Nice to know the phone company installed it correctly.
“Hey! It’s Steve, how are you?”
“Good, just settling in; my place is a mess,” you giggle.
“Good, good. We are all getting together on Friday; maybe you can take a break from unpacking? We thought it would be nice to meet at my folk's place, old time's sake.” you could hear the smirk in his voice.
“Yeah, that sounds good.” You hesitated. “Is, um, everyone going to be there?”
"Yep! Folks are out of town; we can use the pool to put advantage. Everyone is so excited you're back" emphasis on everyone.
“That’s great, Steve; I’m happy to be home, glad no one hates me," you chuckle uncomfortably. "I was kinda worried since I fell off the face of the earth...”
“Nah, we could never be mad at you.”
“Okay then! I’ll see you guys Friday,” you smile. Oblivious to the fact that none of your friends knew you were in town…
“So Stevie, what’s got you bouncing off the walls?” Robin asked.
It was Friday, and Steve had everyone already over for an hour before your arrival.
They had no idea you were back because Steve wanted to tell everyone simultaneously. So he invited Nancy, Jonathan, and Eddie so he could share the big news.
“Yea, you’re killing us, man,” Jonathan smirked.
“Okay, okay, okay! Everyone sit down.” Steve instructed. “So I was out running some errands, and you’re never going to guess who I ran into!”
“Vicki?” Robin asked.
“Nooo.”
“Chrissy?”
“Nope.”
“Max?”
“Nope, guess again.”
“Lucas?”
Amidst the incessant guessing, Eddie's mind drifted away to a memory of you. He pictured you walking through the front door with that enchanting smile you always had on your face. The sound of your voice was etched in his mind as if he had heard it only yesterday. His heart yearned for you, how you used to take over his whole world and light up his day with your infectious energy and captivating aura.
Just as Eddie is about to get lost in his thoughts of you, the doorbell snaps him back into reality.
“You uh expecting anymore else man?” Eddie asked.
“Yeah, you uh mind grabbing the door for me?” Steve was up to something, and Eddie could sense it. Maybe Dustin was home early?
“Why? Are you busy or something?”
“Yea, 'bout to get the pool ready..” he winks.
With his suspicions, Eddie tentatively stands and reaches the door. Behind him, in the distance, he hears Nancy, “Oh my god, shut up!” He must have shared the mystery person while he was out of war shot… jackass.
With his heart racing, he took the last few steps towards the door. His curiosity was piqued, and he felt a sense of anticipation building up inside him, wondering who could possibly be waiting on the other side. As he jogged, he could hear his own footsteps echoing in the hallway. Finally, he reached for the doorknob, ready to discover the mystery person on the other side.
You rang the doorbell once again… what had been taking so long?
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, hold your horses-” Eddie swung open the door without any hesitation as he was in the middle of his sentence. However, his words trailed off when he saw you standing on the other side.
“Hey, Teddy” you smiled as your heart pounded. It was pumping so hard he could probably see it beating through your chest.
“Oh my god.” Eddie looked like he had seen a ghost. The blood drained from his face. His eyes are wide with shock. Did Steve not tell him? “Oh my god!” You were suddenly knocked off your feet as Eddie's weight collided with yours.
“Hi,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around him.
"Peach?" It took him a second to process. “Holy shit, you’re here!” He spun you around before putting you down.
“Did Steve not tell you?” As you slowly stepped back, your eyes fixed on his face.
His once baby-smooth skin now bore a few fine lines, a testament to the life he had lived. Life was never kind to Eddie, but he held on to hope. His facial hair added a more mature rugged charm to the baby face you once knew. You couldn't help but admire the beauty that was Eddie Munson.
You also couldn’t wipe the stupid grin off your face and Eddie was so thankful because he had never been witness to something so beautiful.
“No! Oh my god! No, he didn’t tell us anything.” He couldn’t let you go; he needed to feel you to convince himself he wasn’t seeing things. You smelled just as he remembered, but also sweeter.
“She’s back?!” You hear Robin's voice coming from far inside the house. That made you giggle, and Eddie heard angels singing.
The loud sound of footsteps fills your ears, and you see Robin running towards the door. She bulldozes her way past Eddie and engulfs you in a suffocating hug.
“How long are you here?!” She squealed.
“For good!” You smile as you see Nancy and Jonathan run out after Robin.
“What?! You’re back forever?!” Nancy came running out the door
“Yes, forever!” You smile, glancing over at Eddie.
Eddie needed to process everything and stepped back so everyone else could say their long-awaited hellos.
He missed you so badly; of course, he tried to move on, but nothing was the same. Feeling overwhelmed by the avalanche of information he had just received, Eddie needed a moment to gather his thoughts. With a smile, he excused himself from the room and went through the house to the backyard.
The warm afternoon breeze hit his face as he leaned against the deck railing. Taking a deep breath of the fresh air. He reached into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes, and with a flick of his lighter, he lit one up. As he took a long first drag, he closed his eyes and let his mind wander, hoping to find clarity amid the chaos because you were back.
He hadn’t been out there for two minutes, barely making a dent in the cigarette, when he heard the sliding glass door open and close behind him.
“Hey, you okay, man?” It was Steve.
“Yeah, yeah, just in shock, I guess...” He took a long drag of the cigarette and blew the puffs of smoke in the other direction, away from Steve's face.
“She looks good, huh?.” Steve smirked as he also leaned back against the railing next to Eddie.
"Yeah, uh yea really good" He tried releasing his tense shoulders, but it was of no use.
"I didn't see a ring on her finger… but I did see one around her neck… looked familiar too.”
"What?” Eddie’s head snapped up.
“See for yourself.”
You were now in the kitchen, facing him through the window. Clear as day your exposed chest dawned his ring.
What did this mean?
"Looks like now's your chance." Steve clapped his back.
"It's been so long… things are- I don't know, things just won't be the same. Too much time has passed."
"That's why I say seize the day!"
"Don't Carpe Diem me," Eddie scoffed.
"Well, you better because there is no way I’m going to let someone else swoop in and snatch her up because you’re too dumb to say you love her back." In a swift motion, Steve reached out and plucked the cigarette from Eddie's lips, brought it up to his own mouth, took a long drag, and savoured the taste of the smoke. As he exhaled, he brought the cigarette back down and carefully stubbed it in the ashtray, snuffing out every last bit of ember. The two friends sat silently for a moment, lost in their thoughts.
"Don’t fuck this up again,” he smirked before slipping back inside with the others.
Your gaze automatically finds Eddie as you make your way out the door and into the yard, it was a pool party after all. You even bought a new swimsuit for the occasion because you wanted to make an impression on Eddie. He hadn't seen you since you were no more than a few weeks older than eighteen, when you were still awkward and pimply. Now at twenty-five, you’ve come into your body, and you looked fucking good.
You knew that your body had changed considerably since you were a teenager, and you wanted to look your best.
So when you went shopping you settled on a navy blue option with little white anchors, cute without trying too hard, or so you hoped. It accentuated all of your best assets.
Confidently, you let the shawl slip down your shoulders. Eddie felt like you were moving slowly as he watched you bend over to remove your jean shorts.
If Eddie didn't know any better, he'd think you were doing it intentionally. His hands were getting sweaty, and he needed to tighten his grip on the beer bottle so it wouldn't slip. You made him nervous; you were beautiful, elegant, and not to mention sexy, even more so than he remembered.
As you reach out to grab the drink from Robin's hand, you can sense Eddie's intense gaze fixed on you. Robin, who seems oblivious to the brewing tension, turns around and walks towards the pool chairs where Eddie, Steve, Jonathan and Nancy are lounging. You watch as Robin joins the trio, leaving you standing alone, wondering what Eddie's piercing stare could possibly mean. With a deep breath, you take a swig and join your group of friends.
Like a flip of a switch, Eddie's face softens when he sees you coming towards them. He takes in your body the closer you get. As soon as he caught a glimpse of you, his heart began to race uncontrollably. He couldn't believe how stunning you looked, and his eyes were immediately drawn to his ring that adorned your necklace.
You watched as Eddie gazed at you with admiration. It was like he was noticing every detail about you. Memorizing you - the way your hair cascaded over your shoulders, the sparkle in your eyes, the curve of your lips as you smiled. Eddie always knew how to make you feel special, even with just a look.
"Here, you can take mine." Eddie gets up. Alwasy the gentalman.
"No, it's okay. They are big enough we can share." You smile as you lay out your towel to sit at the end of the long white chair.
Conversations about everyone and how they have been lasted about an hour before you decided it was way too hot to not take advantage of the pool. While living in England, you have had to endure the cool and damp weather. It's such a contrast to the hot and humid summers that you grew up with in Hawkins. The scorching heat can sometimes get unbearable, yet a refreshing change from the gloomy weather back in England.
"I'm going in if anyone wants to join me." You set down your sweaty glass and walk over to the pool. Nancy and Robin follow closely behind before you glance back at the boys.
“Hey, come in with us.” You offer with a smile.
You hear a splash from the pool and see the two other girls' heads bobbing up from under the water.
Steve and Jon nod their head while Eddie shakes his no.
“You sure?” You offer once more, raising your brow.
Once again, Eddie shakes his head no before the other two boys grab him by the arms and drag him to the water's edge.
You giggle before taking a graceful dive in to join your girlfriends. The three of you tread water as you watch the boys struggle from land.
"Hey! Come on, I still have my shirt on!" Eddie protested.
"Take it off!" Robin yelled, pulling another giggle from you.
"Oh you think seeing me shirtless is funny, Peach?" He quipped. He was kidding, of course, but you couldn't help to fight off the blood rushing to your cheeks.
Too flustered to reply, you don't say anything; however, the boys save you by throwing Eddie in the pool. You flinch away from the splash of water that gets in your eyes and wait for Eddie to come back up for air. You stare at the spot that he was thrown in, but he doesn't come back up.
"Eddie?" you ask, feeling a bit worried. However, as you are standing in the water, a feeling of terror fear overtakes you as something grabs your waist from below the surface and pulls you backwards. You let out a small scream, but quickly cover your mouth as you feel strong arms wrap around you, holding you close to their chest.
"Teddy, you idiot!" You play scream but also can't hold back your laughter as Eddie pops back up for air, trying to swim off with you in toe.
"What? I'm saving you from sharks." He shrugs like he is doing the most obvious thing in the world.
"God, you haven't changed a bit, have you?" You gaze into his eyes as he pinned you against the pool wall. You can’t help but take in his beauty.
"What is that a bad thing?" He cocks his head.
"N-not at all," Your breath hitches.
For a fleeting moment, you lose the sense of your surroundings. You forget about group's presence that is intently observing your and Eddie's every move. It's as if you are in a bubble, separate from the rest of the world. Your attention is drawn to the black t-shirt that now clings tightly to his wet body, accentuating every contour of his muscles in a way you hadn't noticed before. During your high school days, you remembered him as a lanky teenager.
Now, you noticed he had put on a lot of muscle mass. His chest was broad and well-defined, his biceps looked like they were about to burst out of his shirt, and his forearms were thick and veiny.
You couldn't help but feel a slight tingle through your core as the thought of running your hands over his muscular chest crossed your mind…
"I like what you did with the ring." He flicked your necklace with his index finger, his touch sending shivers down your spine.
"Oh yeah, I, uh, it didn't fit, so... Had to keep it safe, you know." You chuckled awkwardly. "Never took it off."
"Never?" He was shocked.
"Never," You whispered back.
"Your boyfriend okay with having another man's ring around your neck, Sweetheart?"
"I-I-uh- no, no boyfriend." God, why was it like you had forgotten how to speak.
"Noted." You can't help but want to kiss the stupid gin off of his face.
You reminisced about the countless hours you had spent lost in your own thoughts, daydreaming about kissing his lips. Maybe, just maybe, a new beginning would allow Eddie to finally see you in the same light that you had always seen him. Little did you know Eddie also daydreamed about your lips. Especially the memory of watching you say those three words in the airport. It plagued his dreams day and night. He should have said them back, but he was too shocked to react, and before he knew what was happening, you were boarding the airplane to take you far far away from him.
"Okay, love birds, enough of this. We are playing macro polo!" Robin announced, popping the bubble that was you and Eddie.
You were suddenly embarrassed by your behaviour in front of your other friends. You were there to see everyone, not just Eddie, but you can’t help yourself, you have missed him so badly, sometimes you felt like your chest was in physical pain from how much your longed for him.
He still was the last person you thought about before going to bed many nights. Even the times when you had a boyfriend…That’s why none of your relationships worked, because he was right. You wore another man’s ring on your neck and refused to take it off no matter your relationship status. You were forever his, even if you technically never were, but your heart belongs to him.
The rest of the day was filled with laughter and catching up on old times. You tried your best to divide your attention to everyone but somehow you and Eddie were drawn to one another. He needed to be sitting next to you, to touch you whenever he could. To convince himself that you were in fact real and not going anywhere.
To Eddie you were the one that got away. The endless nights he stayed up thinking about you, the day you left, the days and nights spent, platonically, wishing he had just made a move… but maybe that would have made your move all that harder?
The ring was a spur of the moment decision that he was glad he made. He always caught you looking at it. He loved that you loved it and that you would have a piece of him while you were gone. He knew you would protect it and cherish it because he knew how much you knew it meant to him. It was one of the last things that he had left of his mother, and he felt that it symbolizes how much you meant to him…
Saying goodbye to every wasn’t half as painful as the last time you had to do it because it really wasn’t ‘goodbye’ but ‘see you later’.
Eddie offered to walk you to your car, before you left. He wanted to speak with you alone.
“It was really good seeing you” you lean against the door of your car.
“Yeah it really was… Um, hey… look can we talk?”
“Of course, what’s up?”
“I just need to know, why?”
“You gotta be more specific there Teds” you giggle.
“You tell me you love me then run away to England for almost a decade!.”
“Oh.”
How was it that this conversation was happening now, in Steve’s parents driveway? Things were fine a minute ago back in the house?
“How was I supposed to process that? What was I suppose to do with that information? Tell me Sweetheart because let me tell you it really fucked with my head.”
“Teddy I’m sorry, I was so young and scared but I had to let you know… I couldn’t stand the thought of you not knowing.”
“You didn’t even give me the change to say it back…”
“What?”
“ I said you-”
“I know what you said Eddie but you had plenty of chances! We wrote every week and we phone once a month what about them!”
“I can’t do this again…”
“Wh-what?” Your words betrayed you as your voice wobbled.
“It’s good to see you, but I don’t think I can go through all of this again.” Eddie couldn’t stop the words. He didn’t know why he was saying these things? This was not how this was suppose to go. But he was so mad you left him and he never got closure.
“Go through all of what?”
“You left. You left me here in Hawkins while you went out and became someone! I was held back two years, a fucking super senior as you were out in the world without me.”
“Oh I see. So this is my fault?” Now you were pissed. How dare he pin his mistakes on you.
“Forget it.”
You didn’t know what to do. You and Eddie never fought before? Now he’s a perfect stranger and yelling at you because you had left him. But he knew you were to leave eventually. How could he expect you to not go to your dream school? Why did he give you his ring?
“Well if that is how you feel.” You reach up to unlatch the chain from your neck and let go of the thing that had been attached to you for the past seven years.
Without a word you hand it to Eddie, and get in your car and drove home.
You cried the whole way home. It was a miracle you were able to see through the burning tears that stained your cheeks. Fitting that it should start to thunderstorm the second you get out of the car; at least it will hide your tears from your nosey neighbours.
As you stepped inside your apartment, the weight of the day's events pressed heavily on your mind. You reached for the nearest bottle and poured yourself a glass, savoring its amber color and the warmth it brought to your throat. The first glass went down quickly, followed by another and then another, each one helping to ease the pain of disappointment and frustration.
After a few hours of wallowing in self-pity and letting the alcohol work its magic, you finally gathered the courage to walk over to the phone. You braved the hallow ringing as it seemed to go on forever.
There's a fat chance he will answer, but you had to get this off your chest. You still love him.
"Hey, sorry I missed your call, just leave a message after the" beeeeep
"Hey, yeah, it's me... Peach. Just been thinking about everything tonight…And I don't know,” you sniffle. “I just miss you so much. I thought about you all the time… did you think about me? -shit- I’m a little drunk I uh…just ignore that last part. Give me a call back if you can?"
Shit, this was so stupid... could you sound any more desperate? “Did you think about me?” God, you wanted to crawl into a hole and die. He’s already shot you down twice, but at this point, you would rather be hurt than feel nothing at all. He has found a permanent home within your heart, and the eviction notice has been shredded and burned.
After you hung up the phone, you went straight to bed. You did nothing but toss and turn for two hours. Thinking about Eddie and the words he spoke. You had to do something; you regretted giving him the ring back. Your neck felt bare without it like a part of you was missing.
As the rolling thunderstorm rumbled in the background, you heard a knock on the front door. At first, you were sure it was just the storm playing tricks on your mind. But then, you hear it again - three distinctive knocks that make you freeze in place. You couldn't help but wonder who could be knocking at your door at this hour and in the middle of a storm? Your mind raced with thoughts of potential intruders, lost travellers seeking shelter, or even a neighbour in need of assistance. With a sense of caution, you waited another minute, hoping to hear something that would help me identify the person on the other side of the door.
Again, three more knocks.
You let out a string of curses under your breath as you nervously glance towards the door, wondering who could be knocking at this ungodly hour. The darkness of the night envelopes you completely, with no one else around to offer you any comfort or protection. So you flick on the hallway light for some semblance of comfort.
The howling wind outside only adds to your anxiety as it whips through the trees with a mournful wail. The rain pelts against the ground with a relentless force, creating a deafening crescendo that echoes through the stillness of the night. You feel as though you're trapped in the middle of a horror story or some twisted nightmare.
“Peach, it’s me!” You hear a deep voice coming from the other side of the door as you slowly approach it. You peer through the peephole to double-check, but as soon as you see who is on the other side, you wrench the door open so fast that you almost take it off its hinges.
“Eddie?” You look at him with swollen eyes. "It's one in the morning."
"Quarter after, actually." His heart sank a little when you called him by his actual name.
"Okay?”
"You cheated me out of the chance to say it to your face! That's the least you and I, for that matter, deserved!" Eddie barged his way past you and into your home, not caring that he was leaving a puddle from the relentless downpour. He was drenched from the tips of his hair to the soles of his shoes. "You didn't even let me say it back!"
“You loved me?” The realization of his words sunk in.
“Not loved, sweetheart.”
“Oh,” the disappointment was evident on your face. Eddie could always read you like a book.
“Love, present tense.”
Your heart rate at this point should have been concerning. After all this time?
"and to answer your question, I thought about your every goddamn minute of every goddamn day."
"Please, I didn't mean any of that stuff I said back at Steve's. I don't know what came over me; I'm an idiot, forgive me? I take it all back!"
"You love me?"
"Yes, oh god, yes, I have since the ninth grade and never stopped!" Eddie's heart pounded in his chest as he awaited your reply. Maybe this was stupid? Perhaps he fucked up so badly that it was irreversible. Never did he ever think you would give him the ring back. He knew he fucked up the second you placed it in his hand, but he was too hard-headed to apologize.
When you exited the driveway, he immediately snapped out of his foolishness and started chasing you down the street. No way he was losing you again because of past hurt feelings and pure stupidity on his end. He can't believe he was about to let you walk away from him. Again.
"Please say something?" Eddie pleaded, stepping closer to you.
"I don't know what to say, Eddie? You've been sending me mixed signals all day."
"What is it you need? Space? Time?"
"No."
"Then what?"
"You!"
"Me?"
"I just need you now." With a surge of courage, you stepped forward and closed the distance between you and Eddie.
Heart racing, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his, feeling the cold, wet rain residue and softness of his mouth against yours. It was a moment of pure bliss, leaving you breathless.
After years and years of imagining, dreaming, and picturing, this moment finally came to fruition. Some may say it was a manifestation; others might say it was destiny.
An overwhelming heat bloomed from your core and spread throughout your whole body as Eddie’s strong hands explored your exposed skin. Your burning need to overpower the feeling of the coldness of Eddie’s wet, damp clothing. You had been wearing an oversized shirt and underwear when you opened the door, but that only aided him.
His hands trailed up from your hips and slid under your shirt so he could hold you by your waist. As he tasted you, he pressed his body further into you, pushing you back further down the hall towards the bedroom.
"You have me." He pulled away breathlessly as he took you in. Your once dry white shirt was now damp and translucent, sticking to your body. Eddie couldn't help but groan at the sight of your peaked nipples trying to pierce their way through the thin material blocking you from him.
You could feel the pool of arousal collecting in your panties. Never had you been so turned on in your life than in this moment.
“I have you.” You mumble before taking his lips once again. You let his tongue part your lips as he explored your mouth. You tasted like mint toothpaste and a hint of whiskey.
"Baby, I need you now." He moans.
Baby. A plume of butterflies erupted deep within you at the name. There was no going back now; you and Eddie were destined to be together like it was written in the cosmos.
Despite the tension between you two, somehow, you managed to break apart just enough to lead him to the bedroom. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as you both stood there, breathing heavily, staring into each other's eyes.
"You're perfect," Eddie whispered as he backed you up onto the bed that stood in the middle of the room.
You willingly fell back onto the soft sheets below as his lips met yours. Needy hands pulled at the fabric that separated you.
Lightning lit up the room as your silhouettes danced on the walls. Eddie, atop your body, melted into your plush bed as you both stripped fully.
“Please, Eddie,” you whined as he was taking too slow; the wet fabric clung to his clammy skin. He needed warming up, but you knew just the cure. “I’ve waited for so long.”
“Me too, Sweetheart.”
Having been confined for what seemed like an eternity, he was finally able to break free from the shackles of his own clothes that had become a wet and cold prison for him.
You are both now fully naked in your room. You take in the sight of the man before you and what a man he is. Drinking in every last detail your eyes could see in the dim light. He had more tattoos than when you had left, and you were right about his body being more filled out than you remembered. And his cock, so beautiful you could almost cry at how perfect it was.
“God you’re beautiful.” Eddie whispers as he did the same thing.
"So are you." You reach up to take his rough cheek in your palm, gently pulling him down towards you. You sigh into the kiss as you feel Eddie’s weight fall on you.
You can’t help but grind your hips up into his throbbing cock. It’s rock hard as it rests on your soft middle.
Eddie reaches between your two connected bodies and finds your wet pussy with his fingers. A feral moan leaves your lips, and his calloused fingers brush against your swollen, sensitive clit.
The lewd sounds of lips smacking and Eddie playing with your wet pussy fills the room with the pounding of the storm in the background.
“Please, Eddie, I can’t wait. I just need you now.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, please I need your cock so bad.” You begged. There was no time for foreplay; you’ve waited long enough for this moment.
Eddie couldn’t believe this was happening to him.
“I don’t-I didn’t- shut I don’t have-”
“I’m on birth control,” you blurt out.
“You sure?”
“Please, Eddie, I need to feel you… to fill me. All of you.” You craned your neck to reach up and kiss the side of his. You marked him, leaving a significant bite mark that would let everyone know he’s taken. He is yours. Always has been.
“Shit, okay,” he moans as your mouth explores his throat. Eddie would do anything you asked of him at this point.
Eddie slowly guides through your folds, collecting your slick on his shaft, and glides into your pussy.
God, you felt amazing, so wet, so warm, so tight. His perfect girl.
“Oh my god,” you arch up into him so you could feel every inch of him.
“You look so pretty like this.” he mewled as he slowly ground his cock into your needy pussy.
“Fuck fuck fuck” Eddie rambled as he hit the hilt. He slowly dragged his cock back and rocked gently back into you like he didn’t want you to break.
You captured his lips on yours once again, muffling your throaty moans.
Eddie was tender; Eddie was sweet. He wanted to make sure you knew he wasn’t just fucking you; he was making love to you.
God, he loved you, even though all those years separated you. He still loved you.
“Eddie, feels so good!” Your mind was captivated by him. Everything in this moment was eternally Eddie.
Eddie’s hips never stopped, they sped up only a little to gain momentum as the sticky heat between you only grew more are more delicious.
“You feel that baby?”
“Oh god, yes.” You hook your ankles around Eddie's back, pulling him in deeper. His cock hit your g spot with each grind and roll of his hips.
His hands find yours, and he laces his fingers between your own, bringing your hands above your head.
“You make me feel so good; oh god, your pussy is taking me so well, fuckin’ made for me.”
“Mmmmhmmmm,” you agree, “made to be with you,” you moan.
“Yea, baby, you think we were made for each other?”
“Yes,” you answered, too fucked out to be self-conscious about what you were saying.
Your orgasm was quickly building and building as Eddie’s hips continued to grind into yours.
“I love you,” you let slip as Eddie continues to make you feel like you’re floating.
You’ve died and reached heaven. You swore nothing could make you feel better. But you were mistaken; Eddie proved you wrong with the next words that were uttered out of his mouth.
"I love you." He sealed his declaration of love with an emotional kiss.
Your head spun with his words. Did he really just say that? Are you really here? The reality of where you are hits you hard as your orgasm rips through you. You were in bed with Eddie, your Eddie. Eddie, who makes you feel safe and loved and important and worshiped.
“Oh my god, oh my god!”
“Shit-fuck” your cunt clamped down on Eddie so tightly as he tried to hold on a little longer, savouring the moment, trying to hold out as long as possible.
“Where do you want it?” He breathlessly asked.
Still making love to you for as long as he could hold off until you told him you loved him again over and over, totally overcome by the serotonin washing your brain, you don’t even know you’re speaking.
“Inside,” you look up into Eddie’s eyes, and he cums immediately. He swore he never heard more beautiful words.
Eddie slowly pumped himself inside of you as he rode out his orgasm, and you kissed every inch of his face.
“I’m never letting you go.” He sighs as he collapses his body weight on top of yours.
“Good, because I’m never going anywhere without you again.” You incase him in a bear hug as your legs and arms wrap around his body one more.
“I love you, Peach.”
“I love you more, Teddy.”
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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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The Strange Night at the Convenience Store
Pairing Humanoid monster x reader
Plot You moved to that place recently and already had a favorite convenience store. There was nothing special about, until you had to go there at night and cross into a peculiar version of it... with also a peculiar attendant
Warnings: None
N. A. So this is my first story for this blog, and I'm so excited with this new project! I have plans of bringing other formats besides lists like this one, so please tell me what type of content you feel more comfortable with 🥰 I'll also create a masterlist with all my content separated by creature, title and other categories in the future, so everything will be kept in order. Anyways, I hope you enjoy this little story and feel free to share your thoughts!
🥀 You moved to that city a few weeks ago and were still adapting to your new routine. It was the first time you were going to live alone, so you were excited and scared at the same time
🥀 Among all the things you had to manage by yourself now, it was discovering the supermarkets and shops that existed near your place, and which of them had the best products and prices. One day, you found a convenience store on a gas station located on a block behind the one where your building was, which sold snacks and essential items at a good price. It quickly became your favorite store, and you went there on every opportunity you had
🥀 Thing is that you always went there by day, so you never needed to leave your apartment by night when you wanted a good treat
🥀 However, there was this time when you forgot to shop at day, so you only found out your pantry was empty when it was almost 21pm
🥀 You sighed. Your movie night would have to start later than you planned
🥀 You left home promising you were going back to its comfort soon
🥀 You used to cross an alley right behind your building to shorten the way to the store, but you didn’t want to use it at night, so you took an entire walk around the block.
🥀 When you were about to cross the street, you noticed a change in your surroundings. The street, the buildings and cars were... different. Old. It was like you were in the same place, but in a past version of it. Even the few people you saw on the sidewalks wore strange clothes: they weren’t retro clothes like the ones you used to see in popular shops, but real, old clothes, though they were in good conditions, as if they were bought recently. The people were strange as well, but you weren’t sure about why you thought that
🥀 You didn’t understand what was going on, but you decided to pretend everything was alright and enter the convenience store. It was better than making a scene and attract unwanted attention
🥀 It was like entering another dimension: it was the perfect scenario of those convenience store of the movies produced in the 1980s, but realistic… and with an unsettling aura. Maybe it was the green neon lights that came out of nowhere, casting a sinister glow over the objects and colored walls. You saw a calendar and went there to see the date. You held your breath: the sheet was new, but it was from February 1984
🥀 So not only you traveled to a different universe, you also traveled back in time
🥀 The store was empty, but this didn’t bring you the relief you were expecting: the idea of being alone at night in a distorted reality was far too scary
🥀 As you walked through the corridors, you observed the racks and found the strangest things, from weird foods with even weider flavors, objects which use you couldn’t imagine and other things you were unable to identify.
🥀 Well, unlike you imagined, you weren’t really alone in that place: a voice called from the bottom of the place. It was a male, duplicated voice that spoke polite words in human language, but little it had to do with humanity
🥀 “Good evening, Miss. What can I do for you?”
🥀 You froze in your spot. The voice was talking to you. The person – or whatever was that – already saw you. What should you do next?
🥀 Since you didn’t give any verbal response, the voice spoke again
🥀 “Hey, it looks like you’re lost. Do you need help?”
🥀 In fact, you needed help, but you weren’t sure if you could seek for any help in there with an unknown being... Still, you decided to risk it. It wasn’t like you had many choices
🥀 “I do... I think I ended up in the wrong address, and I’d like to know how I get out of here”
🥀 You said those things while approaching the counter. When you realized what you were doing, you were already standing before it, staring at the voice’s owner
🥀 He was a man, or something like that: a humanoid individual dressed in the same style of the people you saw outside, but in his case it was the typical attendant uniform of the movies; he was taller than any human you’ve seen in your life, being able to touch the ceiling in case he raised his arms; his skin was of a dark shade of green, and most of the visible skin was covered in a discreet layer of even darker hair, and the same color was seen in the thick strands on his head. His eyes, resembling gold and contrasting with the green of his body, glowed under the neon lights when he laid them on you. You comforted yourself thinking it was just a gleam of curiosity
🥀 To be honest, you were curious about him too. First, it was obvious that he wasn’t wearing a costume: the green, the gold and all that hair were too real to deceive one’s eyes. Second, there was no way one could fake that height: you barely reached his chest. Besides, in the middle of that extraordinary situation, you realized you weren’t sensing any threat coming from him; you felt like you were in the presence of a common person, which only difference lied in his appearance. It was like a weird dream, except that you knew you were awake
🥀 He spoke for the third time, and you confirmed the origin of the voice. It vibrated inside you now that you heard it closer
🥀 “Yeah, I see you don’t belong here. I’d be scared if was you, too”
🥀 That was said in a playful tone, and you saw the long fangs on his mouth when he opened it to smile. You let out a nervous laugh
🥀 “I don’t understand what’s going on... I went to a convenience store near my place, but tonight things went... differently. And now I’m here”
🥀 The creature made a "Hm" and thought of this for a moment. The absence of confusion in his traits showed you that, apparently, the case wasn't as unusual to him as it was to you. And, in fact, his reply let it clear
🥀 "It used to happen more often in the past. It's been a while since the last person from your side ended up here, but it's no big deal. We don't know why or how exactly it happens, but sometimes you just cross the door without noticing. Usually they get scared when they realize they're lost, but you don't seem scared at all"
🥀 He approached the wooden board as to observe you from close. You were apprehensive, but didn't step back
🥀 "Still, I'm sure it's your first time here", he continued, "I don't remember seeing your face before"
🥀 You crossed your arms in front of your chest. That was your time to smile
🥀 "You always remember people's faces?"
🥀 “Not always, but the most interesting ones never escape my sight”
🥀 You spent a considerable time staring at him, measuring those words. Was that his way to say you were pretty or, at least, peculiar? What was even considered pretty in that place? Whatever the answer, the whole thing was unbelievable: a non human individual was flirting with you?
🥀 "Well, I think you haven't seen much people from my side, then", you commented, "I'm pretty common among my people. I don't think you'd remember me anyway"
🥀 The glow in his eyes came back, stronger as he leaned over the board. The fangs seemed to glow in his smile
🥀 "I work at a convenience store, dear. I've seen more people than you could count, and I'm telling you: my eyes and my memory work well together"
🥀 Your smile faded a bit, less because you didn’t know how to respond than by embarrassment. Your hand brushed your hair behind your war before you could stop it
🥀 "If you say so..."
🥀 Fortunately for you, he made you a favor and changed the conversation's direction
🥀 "So, since you're my only client at the moment, guess you can have my undivided attention. What do you need for tonight? Coke? Snacks? Something else?"
🥀 You laughed at the casual tone after such an intense dialogue about remembering faces
🥀 "I need something for a movie night. What do you have for me?"
🥀 "Tell me what you want"
🥀 "I want you to surprise me"
Tell me if you want Part 2!
#monster love#monster romance#monster lover#monster x human#monster x reader#monster boyfriend#monster x fem!reader#monster x female#slow burn#convenience store#monster fluff#monster imagine#monster stories
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ULTIMATE SUPERGIRL READING GUIDE
since i've been asked a few times in the past for various reading guides for kara, i thought i'd compile them all into one post for the sake of convenience!
this guide has reading orders for supergirl comics in PRE-CRISIS (1959-1985), POST-CRISIS (2004-2011), NEW 52 (2011-2016), REBIRTH (2016-2021), and INFINITE FRONTIER (2021-present).
if you have any questions at all don't be afraid to shoot me an ask!
for each section bolded comics are required, italicized comics are recommended, and everything else is optional!
[PRE-CRISIS]
ORIGIN AND MIDVALE ERA (NOTE: you'll have to flip to the back of each issue to get to kara's section!) action comics (1938) #252, 258, 267, 276, 278-282, 285, 295, 309-310, 313, 317
STANHOPE COLLEGE action comics (1938) #318, 366-368, 372, 374 world’s finest (1941) #169 adventure comics (1938) #381, 386, 391, 395, 397
K-SFTV REPORTER — SAN FRANCISCO adventure comics (1938) #406-407, 410-415, 419-424
VANDYRE UNIVERSITY supergirl (1974) #1-10
STUDENT ADVISOR — FLORIDA (NOTE: every member of the superfamily has a story in the superman family (1974), so you'll have to flip through to find kara's section!) the superman family (1974) #165, 168, 171, 174, 177, 180, 182 justice league of america (1960) #132-134 the superman family #183, 184-186, 187-189, 191-193, 194, 196-198, 199, 200, 201-202, 203, 204-205, 206-207
ACTRESS — NEW YORK the superman family (1974) 208-210, 211-214, 215-216, 217, 218 superman (1939) #373 (second story titled “an eye (and ear) on the world!”) detective comics (1937) #508-510 the superman family #219-222
THE GREAT DARKNESS SAGA (i recommend this storyline in it's entirety, but kara only appears in the last issue!) legion of superheroes (1980) #290-294
LAKE SHORE UNIVERSITY supergirl (1982) #1-12 (cw: nazi imagery in the brief interlude in #12) supergirl (1982) #13-15 (cw: antisemitism, nazi imagery, depictions of the holocaust.) supergirl (1982) #16-23
LAST APPEARANCES AND DEATH legion of super-heroes (1980) #300-303 dc comics presents (1978) #28 tales of the legion of super-heroes (1984) #314-315 crisis on infinite earths (1985) #4-7
BONUS POST-COIE APPEARANCES christmas with the super-heroes (1988) #2 (last story titled “should auld acquaintance be forgot”) supergirl (1996) #49, 75-80 solo (2004) #1 (third story titled “young love”) convergence: adventures of superman (2015) #1-2
[POST-CRISIS]
ORIGIN superman/batman (2003) #8-13 (or you can watch superman/batman: apocalypse (2010) instead which I recommend! the art is a lot more tasteful and it's a very faithful adaptation of the comic so you won’t be missing out on anything.)
KARA WITH THE LEGION OF SUPER-HEROES supergirl and the legion of super-heroes (2006) #16-36
LOEB AND KELLY HELL ERA supergirl (2005) #1-5, 9-10, 19 (you don’t have to read any of this since it gets retconned anyway, but if you’re interested in kara’s early characterization, the beginnings of her friendship with cassie sandsmark, or her difficulty fitting in on earth then you’re welcome to read what i’ve provided.)
KELLEY PUCKETT ERA Amazons Attack! teen titans (2003) #47-48 amazons attack! (2007) #3 supergirl (2005) #20 amazons attack! (2007) #4 teen titans (2003) #49
supergirl (2005) #21-22 teen titans (2003) #50, 51-55 supergirl (2005) #25-33
Superman: Brainiac action comics (1938) #866-870
GATES AND IGLE HEAVEN ERA supergirl (2005) #34
New Krypton (new krypton is one of my favorite events and i recommend it in its entirety, but for the sake of brevity I’ll only be listing the issues relevant to kara.) superman: new krypton special #1 superman (1939) #681 adventure comics special featuring guardian #1 action comics (1938) #871 supergirl (2005) #35 superman (1939) #682 action comics (1938) #872 supergirl (2005) #36 superman (1939) #683 action comics (1938) #873
teen titans (2003) #66 supergirl (2005) #37-42
Friends and Fugitives superman: secret Files 2009 #1 supergirl (2005) #43 action comics (1938) #881 supergirl (2005) #45 action comics (1938) #882 supergirl (2005) #46-47
supergirl (2005) annual 1, #48-50
Last Stand of New Krypton adventure comics (2009) #8 superman: last stand of new krypton #1 supergirl (2005) #51 superman (1938) #698 adventure comics (2009) #9 superman: last stand of new krypton #2 adventure comics (2009) #10 supergirl (2005) #52 superman (1938) #699 superman: last stand of new krypton #3 superman: war of the supermen (2010) #0, 1-4
supergirl (2005) #53-57, annual 2, 58-59
END OF SUPERGIRL VOL 5 supergirl (2005) #60-64 supergirl (2005) #65-67
[THE NEW 52]
ORIGIN and SUPERGIRL VS THE WORLDKILLERS supergirl (2011) #1-7
SUPERGIRL and SILVER BANSHEE supergirl (2011) #8-11
SUPERGIRL and SUPERBOY superboy (2011) #6
SANCTUARY supergirl (2011) #12, 0, 13
H’EL ON EARTH superman (2011) #13 supergirl (2011) #14 superman (2011) #14 superboy (2011) #15 supergirl (2011) #15 superboy (2011) #16 superboy (2011) Annual #1 supergirl (2011) #16 superman (2011) #16 superboy (2011) #17 supergirl (2011) #17 superman (2011) #17
SUPERGIRL and POWERGIRL supergirl (2011) #18-20
CYBORG SUPERMAN supergirl (2011) #21-23 action comics (2011) #23.1 supergirl (2011) #24
KRYPTON RETURNS action comics (2011) annual #2 superboy (2011) #25 supergirl (2011) #25 superman (2011) #25
SUPERGIRL VS LOBO supergirl (2011) #26-27
RED DAUGHTER OF KRYPTON supergirl (2011) #28-29 red lanterns (2011) #28-29 supergirl (2011) #30 red lanterns (2011) #30 supergirl (2011) #31 red lanterns (2011) #31-32 supergirl (2011) #32-33
SUPERMAN: DOOMED (this is a whole storyline but I'll only be listing the issues that kara appears in!) superman/wonder woman (2013) #9 action comics (2011) #33 supergirl (2011) #34 superman: doomed (2014) #2 action comics (2011) #35 supergirl (2011) #35
FUTURES END supergirl: futures end (2014) #1
JUSTICE LEAGUE UNITED justice league united (2014) #1-5 justice league united (2014) annual #1 justice league united (2014) #6-10
CRUCIBLE supergirl (2011) #36-40
FINAL DAYS OF SUPERMAN (kara only appears in the issues i've italicized and bolded, but i put all the relevant issues if you wanted to read the full storyline!) superman (2011) #51 batman/superman (2013) #31 action comics (2011) #51 superman/wonder woman (2013) #28 batman/superman (2013) #32 action comics (2011) #52 superman/wonder woman (2013) #29 superman (2011) #52
[REBIRTH]
KARA IN NATIONAL CITY supergirl: rebirth #1
supergirl (2016) #1-8 batgirl (2016) annual 1 supergirl #9-12
supergirl (2016) annual 1 supergirl #13-20
world's finest: batwoman and supergirl #1-2
ROGOL ZAAR and THE SINS OF THE CIRCLE the man of steel #1-2, 3-6 supergirl #21-33, #34-36
LEVIATHAN and BATMAN WHO LAUGHS superman: leviathan rising special #1 supergirl #34-36 supergirl (2016) annual 2 supergirl #37-42
HOUSE OF KENT action comics (2016) #1022-1023 action comics (2016) #1024-1028
FUTURE STATE superman of metropolis (2021) #1-2 kara zor el, superwoman (2021) #1-2
[INFINITE FRONTIER]
action comics 2021 annual
WOMAN OF TOMORROW supergirl: woman of tomorrow (2021) #1-8
WORLD'S FINEST batman/superman: world's finest (2022) #2-6, 8, 12
A WORLD WITHOUT CLARK KENT and RED MOON (kara is featured in the back-up story! if you want the full context of this plot i recommend reading the full warworld arc in action comics [action comics #1030-1046, superman: warworld apocalypse #1]!) action comics (2016) #1044-1046, 1047-1049
DAWN OF DC action comics (2016) #1051-1053, 1055-1056 superman (2023) #1-3 power girl special #1 steelworks (2023) #1-3
KNIGHT TERRORS knight terrors: superman (2023) #1-2
DAWN OF DC (continued) action comics: doomsday special (2023) superman (2023) #7 hawkgirl (2023) #4 supergirl special (2023)
NEW WORLDS [this arc starts on action comics #1057—kara doesn't appear in that issue but I recommend reading it for context!] action comics (2016) #1058-1060 action comics 2023 annual
JOURNEY TO FERIMBIA powergirl (2023) #5, 6-7
HOUSE OF BRAINIAC action comics (2016) #1064 superman (2023) #13 action comics (2016) #1065 superman (2023) #14 action comics (2016) #1066 superman (2023) #15
UNIVERSE END action comics (2016) #1070-1072
UPCOMING: action comics (2016) #1073-1081 superwoman special #1 [out dec. 11]
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ghost [xavier plympton x reader]
[ inspired from ahs 1984, and of course written by me. super cheesy smut fic since i wrote this over a year ago and it has been sitting in my drafts, but why not post it for my ahs lovers. enjoy! ]
word count - 2.4k
[summary: the reader is a counselor at the former camp redwood, now camp meadow, and meets a very friendly, yet also flirtatious ghost during her first night.]
[warnings: dirty talk, oral, unprotected sex]
regardless of how much my mom and i argued, i continued to deny her stupid reasons to not work at camp meadow the summer. the second massacre of 1984 was not even in the current century, so i knew not to overreact about any possible harm coming my way. i loved a good thrill anyway, so maybe some stupid kids pretending to be the night stalker or mr. jingles would be the most enjoyable portion of the long week anyway.
after finally convincing my friend [y/f/n] to come with me, i was felt my decision was for the best. the drive was a few hours long and once we arrived, we were able to meet our fellow counselors and the head counselor, who seemed nice enough, and not very strict whatsoever.
"i'm going to try my hardest to make this week enjoyable for not only the kids, but the counselors as well." miss thompson smiled at us, nodding her head with respect towards the young group. "i know this place has a lot of bad memories, but with a new name, new cabins, and much more, we can make newer, better memories. if you guys have any concerns or questions, please let me know. i'm available anytime."
[y/f/n] nods, then raises her hand, which miss thompson acknowledges immediately. "what about showers? we haven't gone over that yet."
miss thompson told us we had to shower before midnight, to make sure we had hot water the next morning for the kids, in case they needed a bath or anything of the sort.
after taking turns one by one, i was last in line for my shower. i decided to wait until it was dark, so i didn't have any concerns about my friends coming to prank me with stupid, useless scares. they were all tired, cuddled up in their bunks and ready to prepare for the next morning, which would be extremely busy with the amount of kids the head counselor said we were expecting.
i grab my towel and a change of clothes, along with my razor, and made my way towards the showers. i set everything down before stripping off my baggy, light washed jeans and plain black crop top, then turn the water on, waiting until it's hot enough to step into.
i close my eyes, humming quietly to myself as i wet my hair, reaching over to grab the shampoo bottle. i squirt it into my hand, then sigh upon realizing it's all out.
"just fucking fantastic." i scoff, setting the bottle down and just deciding to shave instead. i grab the bar of soap and lather my right leg up, grabbing the razor and sliding it against my skin.
while doing so, i feel a cold gust of wind against my heated, wet skin, looking up with confusion as it suddenly stops. i shake my head, ignoring the situation and going back to my legs. after shaving, i set the razor down and glance to the shower next to me, seeing there was no shampoo in there, either. i really preferred to wash my hair tonight, knowing that it would be funky the next day, since we were expected to take the kids in canoes and swimming.
"looking for this?" i hear a low masculine voice, making me jump and squeak in surprise, turning around to see a blonde boy, dressed in a pair of white khakis and a teal sweatshirt, with a pair of white high-top converse. he had one silver cross earring, which hung on his right ear and shook as he stepped closer, holding a small shampoo bottle in his hand.
i blink numerous times, trying to fathom the fact that the boy was really there. he looked like he belonged in a different universe, or era, to say the least. i step closer and grab it from him, squeezing it in my hands to assure what was happening was actually real. i realize that if this is real, i'm bare ass naked in front of this random guy.
i snatch the towel from the sink, holding it over my body as my cheeks begin to heaten, and not just from the hot water. "who the fuck are you? and why the fuck are you in here while i'm showering?!"
he ran his fingers through his blonde highlights, laughing to himself, as if the situation was amusing. "well, i actually live here. i heard you and your buddies talking about the massacres that took place here earlier today. kinda disappointed you don't recognize me."
i wrap the towel around myself, stepping closer to him, and crossing my arms in complete confusion. "i'm sorry, but i don't think anyone just casually lives at camp meadow. this is like, a summer camp. i don't think it's legal to live here unless you own the camp, and the person who owns this place is a woman. so, i ask again, who are you, and why in the hell should i recognize you?"
"i'm xavier!" he yells in frustration, seeming offended i didn't know this infamous name. "xavier plympton. i was one of the few who were killed here in the '84 massacre. you haven't read up on the conspiracy there's ghosts here? you're looking at one from the 80's." he winks, watching as my eyes widen in shock.
"there's no way." i shake my head, looking at him from head to toe, completely flabbergasted by his unrealistic explanation. "ghosts can't just live here on earth forever, right? i thought you guys would at least go to heaven or hell, or something. not that i believe in that shit, but you'd at least go somewhere other than here."
xavier shrugged, taking a step closer to me, reaching his hand to my bare, wet shoulder. he smiled, sighing as he felt my skin. "i wish i felt like this again. being a ghost sucks sometimes. i feel so empty, so inhuman. i haven't felt someone so warm, so human, in years."
i pull back, pushing his hand off of me. "okay, um, xavier plympton. sorry to disappoint, but you probably won't be feeling this human ever again. now if you'll excuse me, i really need to wash my hair. thank you for the shampoo, but i seriously need you to leave."
he sighed, crossing his arms and lightly tapping his foot in annoyance at my resistance. "come on, [y/n]. i'm the whole reason you can even wash your hair. one more touch please, maybe on your face or something? it makes me feel normal again!" he whines, making a pouty face towards me.
"how do you know my name, weirdo?" i ask, looking at him with annoyance and a bit of confusion. "and no, you can't touch my face. if anything, that's the farthest from feeling normal. that's just being a creep."
xavier walked closer to me, "i do my research. i have nothing else to do around here, so why not eavesdrop on the new counselors before they're here forever like the rest of us, hm?"
my eyes widen as i walk back, hitting the shower water with my back, and feeling the towel begin to get soaked. i gulp, trying to scan him for any potential weapon. "well, if you kill me, then you won't be able to like.. touch my shoulder or whatever.. i thought you wanted to feel what it was like to be human, remember?"
he laughed, reaching to tug the side of the towel, biting his lip and looking up to meet our eyes. "i wouldn't hurt you or let anyone else do so, [y/n]. you're not like everyone else around here. you seem different, like you aren't afraid of a fucking stick breaking when you walk at night like those other pussy counselors. i mean, you came out here at almost midnight and showered all alone, so it's like you were practically begging me to touch more then just your shoulder.."
i blush, crossing my arms to make his fingers break from the fabric, breathing in and out rather heavily, as i felt my stomach turn at his words. "what would ever make you think i'd want you to touch me? maybe that's your brain, just because you've only had ghost pussy for like twenty years."
"maybe, instead, it's because you excite me." xavier snaps back with a flick of his pink tongue. he grabs the towel, slowly pulling it back off of me, then tossing it to the wooden floor. he grabs the shampoo, squirting some into his palm before lathering it up, gesturing for me to turn around. he sinks his fingers into my hair, beginning to wash it with soft, relaxing strokes from his fingertips. i close my eyes, practically melting at his touch and feeling my legs quickly drench with pleasure as he begins to kiss down my wet neck and soon to my bare shoulders.
this goes on for a few minutes, when he then helps to wash the shampoo out of my hair, and turns me back towards him. i watch him strip of his clothing, except for his light blue boxers, which showed off his stiff, hard length, poking directly towards my wet pussy.
i chew my lip, looking down at his length, before locking our lust-filled eyes. he moves closer to press his lips against my cheek, then smiles seductively.
"if i'm going to fuck you, i'd like to do so in a place more, comfortable. for the both of us, of course." he explains, taking my hand and pulling me away from the water. i look to him, raising a brow, and watching as he hands me the towel.
i follow him outside, as he walks towards an empty cabin, several down from the one i was staying in. i let him sit me down on the bed, where i pull the towel off of myself and set it on the dresser. i lay on my back, spreading my legs in his direction as he pulls his boxers down. he looks at me with a grin, chuckling as he walks over to shut my legs, making my sit up with complete confusion.
"thought we were going to have sex, xavier. not play games, right?" i chirp, looking at the blonde as he sticks two fingers in his mouth, then pins me back down, sliding them to my clit, answering my own question. so no sex yet, only some foreplay so far, which was absolutely fine by me.
he came off as a man who wanted to skip the foreplay, but the second he pumped his fingers inside of me, i was thankfully my interpretation was wrong. i gasp, letting out a loud moan as he began to finger me, curling his digits inside of me with each thrust, in and out.
xavier leaned down to latch his lips to my nipple, sucking softly for a minute before pulling his head up. he looks down at me, pleased with my moans, while he reads my lustful expression.
"the minute i saw you walk into this camp, i knew you'd been needing a good dicking, [y/n]. the way you looked at those other counselors when they were introduced to you.. you've been wanting someone inside of you for awhile now, and who better then me, hm?" he talked into my ear, his hot breath against my skin as he worked his magic inside of me. "i could fuck you so hard tonight you'd never wanna leave camp, baby. you'd be begging for my cock from when you wake up to when you go to sleep. i can already feel how good your pussy is, so i may be begging you for the same later.."
i glance up at him, then down to his hand, as he rapidly finger fucks my insides. i'm dripping at his touch, my juices sinking between my ass cheeks and his fingers, visibly noticeable as he pulls out of me, moving his index and middle fingers to my throbbing clit.
as he rubs, i moan loudly, my eyes shut while he motions himself in front of me. he kneels on the bed, using his free hand to line up his length with my pussy. he pushes himself in slowly, as a way to warn me of what's to come. he was big, and it was now very obvious as he had already filled a substantial portion of my insides with not even half his cock. i nod with reassurance, allowing him to push himself into me, so deep his balls were pressing against my folds.
xavier begins to thrust, pulling his hand away from my clit and taking a hold of my own hand, lacing his fingers with mine. he smushes our lips together, the kiss entrancing the both of us as we become one through a sinful, yet so beautifully pleasurable act.
"you feel so good, [y/n]... dead or alive, this is the best pussy i've ever had in my life.. i never want to stop fucking you, baby.." xavier compliments me, giving me a wink as he raises himself back up. he keeps our hands together, thrusting himself inside as he lets out small moans, and continues to speak his sexual, dirty words to me.
he looks down at me, watching as my tits bounce with each one of his rapid, fast-paced movements. "how do you like this cock, sweetheart? so thick and long for you, hmm? you make me hurt with lust, babygirl. you make me want to cum deep inside you."
"please, xavier. please cum inside me.." i moan, nodding as i look up at him, my mouth hung open as he rocks my body in the bed. "that's all i want right now, for you to fill me up so good.. i need you so bad.. i need you to fill my pussy.. fuck.."
"and that i fucking shall." xavier pushes inside of me with one last deep thrust, filling my walls with his warm, thick seed. he pulls out, a small portion of white trailing from his head and to my pussy lips.
i sit up, panting as i pull myself off the bed, leaning down onto my weak, shaking knees. i place my lips on the tip, sucking the excess down my throat. he shivers at my touch, moving one hand to cup my cheek and insist i stand back up.
"maybe tomorrow night you can reward me with head, baby. you've got a big day soon." he pecks my lips, handing me the towel off the floor. "so why don't you go clean up, again, and i'll see you soon."
i smirk, nodding as i wrap the towel around my top. "xavier, please join me. maybe i'll wash your hair this time." i wink, watching him pull his boxers up.
he laughed, shaking his head. "i hate to reject the offer, sweetheart, but i need my beauty sleep, too. go get some sleep, because tomorrow night will be far longer than tonight's."
i turn around, my cheeks burning as i open the cabin door and shut it behind me, walking back to the showers. i couldn't believe i had just let a ghost fuck me, and that ghost being the xavier plympton. maybe i'd have to stick around camp meadow for longer than this week after all.
[ a/n - i did want to mention i will be writing much more in a few weeks - finals and college/work in general has been consuming a lot of my time lately, but i am hoping to find some inspiration for new fics soon! ]
#xavier plympton#x yn#x reader#xavier plympton smut#ahs 1984#ahs smut#ahs fandom#american horror story#ahs apocalypse#xavier plympton imagine#xavier plympton x reader#cody fern
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Call of Duty OC: Samantha "Scarlet" Wright 🦋
Finally, after ages, I came up with Scarlet's biography sheet! So in case you guys are curious about her, you can go through this post, hope it helps! (◍•ᴗ•◍)✧*。
If you want to see any artwork or fics on her, go to the #samantha scarlet wright tag for her content!
GENERAL
Name: Samantha
Full name: Samantha Wright
Codename: "Scarlet", Hotel Two-Six, Butterfly
Age: 29 years old
Gender: Female
Nationality: British (UK)
Languages spoken: English (native), Arabic (conventionally), Russian (for intelligence purposes)
Date of Birth: March 9, 1984
Place of Birth: Cambridge, England
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Martial Status: Single (married in 2017 to John "Soap" MacTavish, her childhood friend — diverging canon AU)
Occupation: British SAS (Special Air Services), member of the Task Force 141
Status: Active
Rank: Sergeant
Universe: Original timeline (2011-2017), reboot (alternative AU)
Faceclaim: Jenna Coleman
Song: Tangled Up by Caro Emerald (Lokee Remix)
youtube
Biography: Samantha Wright, under the codename "Scarlet" followed her dream in joining the most elite forces of the British Army, after hearing about her father's experiences in the military. As her hard work pays off, she finally gets selected for the SAS, and then for the Task Force 141, for her skills and strength. There, she meets a very old friend, that she missed and deeply cared for..
AFFILIATIONS:
Task Force 141
Captain John Price
John "Soap" MacTavish
Kyle "Gaz" Garrick
Simon "Ghost" Riley
Hannah "Sparrow" Clayton (@revnah1406)
Sergeant Annabelle "Kit" Pham (@applbottmjeens)
Charlotte "Jade" La Jardin (@sleepyconfusedpotato)
2nd Commando Regiment (@kaitaiga)
Sergeant Damien Whitlock
Captain Lachlan Jones
Los Vaqueros
Colonel Alejandro Vargas
Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra
Alyssa "Aly" Martinez (@alypink)
SKILLS AND ABILITIES
Weapon induced: M4A1 Carbine, M4A1 Grenadier w/ Red Dot Sight, M14 EBR Scoped
Fighting style: Hand-to-hand-combat, martial arts, a bit of jiu-jitsu
Special skills: Has good agility, wits and strength from intensive physical and mental training.
Talents: Is able to strategise a plan for greater impact.
Shortcomings: Is a bit sensitive and confused when it comes to choosing a decision which leads to life or death.
PERSONALITY
Myers-Briggs Type: ISFP (The Adventurer)
Is a positive presence among everybody: Yes, a soldier sure is a tough-hard individual who is determined to follow their duty, but Scarlet is the opposite. She maintains her duties and also motivates and cheers others up to keep moving and never surrender, as taught by her father. The reason why others notice when Scarlet is present with them, they feel calm and encouraged.
Emotional, but also dangerous: Sure Scarlet looks like she's a sweet presence among everyone, but at the same time, we shall not forget she's SAS-trained. When things get serious, she gets serious. During some missions (1 and 2), she has shown remarkable strength and courage by eliminating enemy soldiers in combat, as if she's a different person. The cheerful presence Scarlet holds among others has another dark side inside that she never reveals, but towards her enemies.
Can indulge with anyone, and is respectful: She'd love to make friends or teammates! It doesn't mean she doesn't give importance to anyone, but she especially bonds a lot with Soap. They two have been childhood friends since the start and everyone notices how close they both are and thinks if they two are a couple. Even if Soap is her best friend and he has a superior rank, she'd still respect him as her Captain. But sure, personally, they two engage like they used to.
Very empathetic: Whether it's a random person or not who is dying in her arms, it breaks her. It happened once when she tried to save a person who was losing their life and in the end they couldn't make it. It makes her want to blame herself a bit, thinking she didn't do her duty right, even if everything wasn't in her power. Also, if she sees anyone in distress, she's able to console and help them in time of need, the reason why Scarlet is able to sympathise and understand others well.
BACKGROUND STORY
Born as Samantha Wright, she lives in a small town in England with her father, Albert Wright, who is a former SAS-soldier under the codename "Bolt", and mother Elizabeth. When Scarlet was a toddler, she used to hear stories from her father about him working in Special Air Services, an elite special forces unit, and retired the day when his one leg was brutally injured that made him unable to walk or run.
Those stories gave Scarlet an idea to also join the SAS like him, but her father chuckled and said that right now she was too young to do so. Sometime later, she met John MacTavish, who recently moved into her neighbourhood from Scotland, but wasn't happy that he shifted away from his homeland. She wanted John to be her friend, and make him familiar with the surroundings so he'll get used to everything and love staying at his new home. And soon, they two grew closer, and became best friends.
They two had a similar goal — to join the defense. And one day, that day had to come between the two, when John had to leave for military school. Bidding her best friend a bittersweet farewell, unsure what future has for them in between, John encouraged her to follow her dreams. Taking that as a motivation, Scarlet kept John close to heart, while continuing her aspiration to join the SAS.
Her father got to know about her plan, saying that it won't be easy, since the SAS had the toughest selection processes. That sure unsettled her for a while, but didn't make her back off from her decision respectively. Instead, she learnt a couple of exercises, tips and tricks on self-defense from him that mentally and physically prepared her fully at the same time.
When she recruited herself in the selection process, it was an absolutely different experience for her. The way her mind drastically changed during the training quite traumatized and scared her, knowing what it feels to be in the SAS. But, keeping her father's words by her side, she didn't let the weakness and fear sink her in and moved on further. At times, she was ridiculed by others that she'd never be able to complete the process, but chuckled it all out instead.
The day came, when her hard work paid off, and she finally became eligible for the special forces. It was a blessed feeling for her, as if luck always stood by her side. And this is where, her journey begins..
#cod#call of duty#call of duty fanart#call of duty oc#call of duty original character#cod oc#oc biography#original character#character profile#original character profile#oc profile#samantha scarlet wright#cod mw#call of duty modern warfare#og mw timeline#task force 141#soap x oc#soap x scarlet#my oc#my original character#Youtube
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Banana Fish & Films PART 1
Recommendations based on aesthetics, themes, decade etc…
These are just my personal recommendations for movies similar to Banana Fish. Most of these films from 1960-90s revolving around some sort of street culture gangs, prostitution, trafficking, drugs all that good stuff…also a few of these I haven’t watched in years so the description may be a little off LOL
TAXI DRIVER 1976
“All the animals come out at night. Whores, skunk-pussies, buggers, queens, fairies, dopers, junkies. Sick and venal.”
Taxi Driver follows a former Vietnam solider insomniac 26-year-old Travis (Robert De Niro) who takes night shifts as a cab driver in NYC. The story is mostly told through his inner monologue, where he talks about his his loneliness and depression along with telling stories of his interactions with his customers. He crosses paths with a 12-year-old prostitute Iris, (Jodie Foster) whom he tries rescuing from her situation.
This film was recommended by Yoshida.
THE WARRIORS 1979
“Since when the fuck are you a diplomat?”
After being blamed for the killing of a rival gang leader in the Bronx, the Warriors have dozens of New York City street gangs are out for revenge battling over turf that ranges from Bronx to Coney Island where the Warriors reside.
STREETWISE 1984
“No one to tell you where to go or what to do.”
A documentary on Street Kids in Seattle Washington 1984. Many of the teenagers do dangerous hustling gigs to survive on the streets.
There’s a story about a girl who is a prostitute with her mother’s knowledge, though her mother is against the idea she doesn’t stop her since it brings in money. Similar situation with Ash and his father..I have seen people say “I can’t believe his father would do that!” or that it’s totally unrealistic. Unfortunately these terrible things do happen, and even though Banana Fish is fictional and exaggerated, the crimes featured are really not far off for the time. Child exploitation human trafficking was huge, that’s one of the reasons how the milk carton missing persons started back in the eighties, especially through mafia/politicians in Europe.
PLATOON 1986
“Any way you cut it, Barnes is a fucking murderer.”
This movie was recommended by Yoshida.
Chris Taylor (Charlie Seen) leaves university to enlist in the Vietnam war. His experiences in combat fades his idealisms of what war is really about and what the troops are fighting this war for. His two Sargents, Barnes (Tom Berneger) and Elias (Williem Dafoe) are constantly arguing together over their morals. Barnes has violent approaches and believes the villagers are harboring Vietcong, while Elias has a more sympathetic view of the villagers and the war. Their disagreements began putting soldiers up against each other, as well as the enemies.
CRUISING 1980
“They told me that there was some... special assignment... and that I was right for it.”
Steve Burns (Al Pacino) is tasked to go undercover cop as a gay man infiltrating New York’s S&M clubs for a psychopath who’s been violently killing homosexuals. Steve begins immersing himself in the subculture and club hopping. While this is going down, he becomes increasingly distant with his girlfriend and the police forces homophobia becomes more apparent as the case goes on.
KING OF NEW YORK 1990
“ I spent half my life in prison. I never got away with anything, and I never killed anybody that didn't deserve it.”
The biggest Kingpin of the underground Frank White (Christopher Walken) just got released from prison. He’s different from most gangsters though. He shares his benefits with the poor, opening children’s hospitals and protecting the wellbeing of underprivileged citizens. Though the streets are much tougher than before. The mafia, Chinatown and Colombian gangs are running the streets partaking in child human trafficking and prostitution, unnecessary killings and racketeering. Frank’s not a fan of how they do business, and puts an end to it.
One of my favorites..the ending even ends similar to Banana Fish and there’s these two gay ass cop partners that the one kisses him towards the end (no spoilerrr) Frank is a super morally grey gangster and very similar to Ash in his beliefs. Film features many famous 90s actors. Must watch.
THE OUTSIDERS 1983
“I used to talk about killing myself all the time, man. But I don't wanna die now. It ain't long enough. Sixteen years ain't gonna be long enough.”
Based on the novel of the same name, an American classic most of us had to read in middle school.
A teenage gang in 1960s Oklahoma, the Greasers have constant clashes with another rival gang the Socs. When Ponyboy (C. Thomas Howell) and Johnny (Ralph Macchio) get into a brawl that leads to the death of a Soc member, they are forced to run away into hiding. With help from their friend Dally (Matt Dillon) he tells them a place out in the rural part of town they can hide until the situation dies down. They are eventually forced to return back to their town after a tragic incident with Johnny happens, and they’re subjected to the consequences of their violent lives once again.
#80s anime#80s manga#ash lynx#banana fish#eiji okumura#asheiji#internet archive#mitcharchivebf#akimi yoshida#90s manga#movies#movie review#80s movies#90s movies#gangster#film#crime#thriller
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Round Two
Queen
Defeated opponents: Green Day
Formed in: 1970
Genres: rock, glam-rock, hard rock, pop-rock, pop, disco
Lineup: Freddie Mercury- vocals
Brian May- guitar
John Deacon- bass
Roger Taylor- drums
Albums from the 80s:
The Game (1980)
Hot Space (1982)
Flash Gordon (1982, movie soundtrack)
The Works (1984)
A Kind Of Magic (1986)
The Miracle (1989)
Propaganda: “HAVE YOU SEEEEN THEMMMM???? these men never lost their looks as they aged. smoking hot 20 somethings to smoking hot 40 somethings. in their own words, "we was glam" and "we were all stunning". all four had impeccable style choices 99% of the time, from leather jackets and wraps to monochrome to undone blazers and ties to brightly coloured /everything/. Deacon changed his hair style every few years and even in just tshirts and booty shorts, never missed. Roger had a sleazy mullet and sunglasses for what felt like forever, hot Persian dad, did not miss. Brian forgot how to fully button shirts. bell bottoms. same hair for 50 years. no misses. even after Freddie got sick and started wearing makeup and had to grow a beard to cover up, MAN NEVER FUCKIN MISSED. he was beautiful to the day he died. and thats not even touching on the leather daddy look from the early 80s.king shit. we love wrinkles and laugh lines in this gd house. if they don't sweep I’m blowing this whole website up we was glam”
“a few years back i was obsessed with these guys and i would find it hard to not have a crush on all of them. in the 80s especially brian was GORGEOUS.. BEAUTIFUL”
Earth, Wind & Fire
Defeated opponents: Midnight Oil
Formed in: 1969
Genres: R&B, pop, funk, post-disco
Lineup: Maurice White - vocals, kalimba, drums, percussion
Verdine White – bass, backing vocals
Philip Bailey – lead vocals, conga, percussion, kalimba
Ralph Johnson – percussion, backing vocals, drums
Roland Bautista - lead/rhythm guitar, vocals
Larry Dunn - keyboards, synthesizers, minimoog
Andrew Woolfolk - flute, saxophone, percussion
Fred White - drums, percussion
Johnny Graham - lead/rhythm guitar, trumpet, percussion
Albums from the 80s:
Faces (1980)
Raise! (1981)
Powerlight (1983)
Electric Universe (1983)
Touch the World (1987)
The Best of Earth, Wind & Fire, vol. 2 (1988)
Propaganda:
Visual propaganda for Queen:
#round 2#queen#queen band#earth wind and fire#freddie mercury#brian may#john deacon#roger taylor#maurice white#verdine white#philip bailey#ralph johnson#Roland bautista#Larry dunn#Andrew woolfolk#Fred white#Johnny graham#the hottest 80s band tournament#the hottest 80s band tourney
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My review about Miraculous World: Paris, Tales of Shadybug and Claw Noir
This is a (first) review about a Miraculous element (especially an episode form Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir).
This post contains spoilers.
Today, I've watched the Special Episode. I am prepared for the watching. I will reveal my aggregation in the end of the post.
And now, time to read:
Plot:
This happens in the same moment (at the night) as the episode Destruction (5.03). After Monarch has been cataclysmed at the left arm and before he configurates the stolen Miraculouses.
In a parallel world, a Butterfly superhero named Hesperia (Gabriel Agreste/Gabi Grassette) who is helped by Alya, Nino, Max and Markov, leaves his homeworld universe for escape from Shadybug (Toxinelle) and Claw Noire (Griffe Noire), two evil versions of Ladybug and Cat Noir. When the three characters come to the Ladybug and Cat Noir main universe, Hesperia teams up with the two titular heroes for make the ShadyClaw duo into good people. At the other side, the evil counterparts try to steal the Butterfly miraculous to Hesperia (and later to try to combine the Ladybug and Cat powers for make their wishes).
I've learned about news elements in the Miraculous lore by watching the Special:
They exist some billions an infinity of Parallel Worlds in the lore.
Each Parallel World is home to one Tikki and one Plagg (so One Ladybug holder and one Cat holder).
The inconvenients from the Ladybug's and Cat's powers (secondary effects)due to their excessive using. Shadybug and Claw Noire cause their own deterioration in their bodies by using their power for the evil.
The morale about the hope in dark and sad moments (Thanks, Hesperia.)
The parallel world (ShadyClaw/Hesperia's world) is a dystopian world ruled by the Supreme
Hesperia's, Shadybug's and Claw Noir's backstories
What I liked:
The Hesperia opening in the intro (that was WTF but that was fun)
The coming of Shadybug and Claw Noire, their odd relationships
The Claw Noir's lines and moments
The Kamiko (good alternate name to Akuma)
The akumatization forms: Chat Céleste (Cat Noir) and Ubiquity (first Alya and later Ladybug)
Ladyfly (Marinette with Ladybug + Butterfly unification)
The travels across multiple parallel worlds (Hi, Scarabella and Kitty Noire. Hi, Mister Bug and Ladynoire.)
The concept of Re-Verse (the idea of what would Marinette and Adrien have looked like if theirs lives had been different from the Canon)
The thing how Monarch has failed (again) to take the Ladybug and Cat Miraculouses when he travelled across parallel worlds.
What I disliked:
The lack of end post-credits scene: I would like to see what happens in the Hesperia's world after the battle (interractions between the reformed Shabybug and Claw Noire, Hesperia, Alya ans Nino about reconciliation ans reorganisation of the Resistance against the Supreme).
The absence of other Miraclass counterparts, Luka, Kagami, Félix, Zoé, Chloé and Lila/Cerise (Only Alya, Nino, Max and Markov from the class appear in the episode as parallel counterparts)
The missing full appearance of the Supreme (his/her appearance from the shadow for reveal himself/herself/themself to spectators could make the cliffhanger effect for a sequel).
What I want to know for the future:
The most intriguing point, for me, is: The Supreme (This hidden character I have just mentioned in this post)
Who is the Supreme ? Human or Deity ? Big Brother (1984, George Orwell) ? How do s/he looks like ?
All I've learned about him/her/them is:
The Supreme is an entity/being who rules the Hesperia's homeworld (possibly the Hesperia's entire universe).
S/He is a tyrant, a dictator (worst than Chloé, possibly more machiavelic and charismatic than Cerise, more dangerous than Monarch) on this Earth (or simply Paris).
S/He hates the Love, the Freedom/Liberty, the Justice, the Happiness, positive emotions and particularly the superheroes.
It's him/her/they who is THE overarching antagonist of the Paris Special (even if s/he is only mentioned many times). S/He's so more antagonistical than Monarch.
S/He makes Hesperia and the Resistance from this world (and by extension Ladybug 2 (former Shadybug) and Cat Noir 2/Paw Noir (former Claw Noir)) as Outlaws.
It's him/her/them who given the Ladybug and Cat miraculous to Emo Marinette and Emo Adrien. Ironical and Ridiculous from the Supreme !
S/He is too powerful, too surnatural and too overcheated: s/he has a great control on the Miraculous Ultimate Absolute Power. S/He has implanted a blockage spell on Tikki and Plagg for prevent anyone to summon Gimmi.
ML theory: I'm thinking the Supreme is probably a evil type of Guardian of Miraculouses. A Fallen Guardian (NOT Master Fu NOR Su-Han). S/He has many knowledges about Miraculouses and their using + the Absolute Power.
My personal aggregation on the Paris Special:
I've enjoyed to see the episode. The narrative is excellent. The idea of Multiverse in the Miraculous lore is well found. The various animations from the episode are fun. Miraculous World: Paris, Tales of Shadybug and Claw Noire is a wonderful episode.
Result: 10/10
#miraculous ladybug#ml spoilers#ml paris special#miraculous review#ladybug#chat noir#toxinelle#griffe noire#monarch#hesperia#alya cesaire#nino lahiffe#tikki and plagg#kamiko#miraculous world#miraculous world paris#shadybug and claw noir#marinette dupain cheng#adrien agreste#the supreme#ubiquity#betterfly#paw noir#aggregation
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This is an important article by Linda Greenhouse, writing in The New York Times. Therefore, the link above is a gift 🎁 link, so anyone can read the article, even if they don't subscribe to the Times.
Below are some excerpts from the article:
To understand today’s Supreme Court, to see it whole, demands a longer timeline. To show why, I offer a thought experiment. Suppose a modern Rip Van Winkle went to sleep in September 2005 and didn’t wake up until last week. Such a person would awaken in a profoundly different constitutional world, a world transformed, term by term and case by case, at the Supreme Court’s hand. To appreciate that transformation’s full dimension, consider the robust conservative wish list that greeted the new chief justice 18 years ago: Overturn Roe v. Wade. Reinterpret the Second Amendment to make private gun ownership a constitutional right. Eliminate race-based affirmative action in university admissions. Elevate the place of religion across the legal landscape. Curb the regulatory power of federal agencies. [...} That was how the world looked on Sept. 29, 2005, when Chief Justice Roberts took the oath of office, less than a month after the death of his mentor, Chief Justice Rehnquist. And this year? By the time the sun set on June 30, the term’s final day, every goal on the conservative wish list had been achieved. All of it. To miss that remarkable fact is to miss the story of the Roberts court. It’s worth reviewing how the court accomplished each of the goals. It deployed a variety of tools and strategies. Precedents that stood in the way were either repudiated outright, as the Dobbs v. Jackson Women’s Health Organization decision did last year to Roe v. Wade and Planned Parenthood v. Casey, or were simply rendered irrelevant — abandoned, in the odd euphemism the court has taken to using. In its affirmative action decision declaring race-conscious university admissions to be unconstitutional, Chief Justice Roberts’s majority opinion did not overturn the 2003 Grutter decision explicitly. But Justice Thomas was certainly correct in his concurring opinion when he wrote that it was “clear that Grutter is, for all intents and purposes, overruled.” Likewise, the court has not formally overruled its Chevron decision. Its administrative-law decisions have just stopped citing that 1984 precedent as authority. The justices have simply replaced Chevron’s rule of judicial deference with its polar opposite, a new rule that goes by the name of the major questions doctrine. Under this doctrine, the court will uphold an agency’s regulatory action on a major question only if Congress’s grant of authority to the agency on the particular issue was explicit. Deference, in other words, is now the exception, no longer the rule. But how to tell a major question from an ordinary one? No surprise there: The court itself will decide. [...] My focus here on what these past 18 years have achieved has been on the court itself. But of course, the Supreme Court doesn’t stand alone. Powerful social and political movements swirl around it, carefully cultivating cases and serving them up to justices who themselves were propelled to their positions of great power by those movements. The Supreme Court now is this country’s ultimate political prize. That may not be apparent on a day-to-day or even a term-by-term basis. But from the perspective of 18 years, that conclusion is as unavoidable as it is frightening.
#us supreme court#18 years of the roberts' court#chief justice john roberts#affirmative action#second amendment#separation of church and state#regulatory agencies#women's reproductive health#linda greenhouse#the new york times#gift link
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The Case of the Missing Eddie Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie disappears, and you freak the hell out. Contains: Panic, unhealthy coping mechanisms, murderous thoughts, Uncle Wayne, comfort, cheeseburgers. Word Count: 1.7k-ish Notes: Takes place near the end of the 1984-85 school year. Reader is a junior, Eddie is in Senior Year: Take 2. This was originally written for an event by newlips, but I picked at it for two weeks and still didn't like it enough to submit it, so now it's just a random entry in my Evil Woman universe. (As with all of those, can be read as a standalone.)
This features the prompt "If I believe in anything, it's you." from the 'A Quiet Love' list by soulprompts.
Eddie Munson was nowhere to be found.
You knew he had an appointment with Miss Kelley during 4th period that he'd pretended not to be nervous about. When the bell rang at the end of the day, you'd gone to meet him in the parking lot and find out how it went, but his van was gone. Did he go home sick? Did they find out what he did to the boys' locker room? Had the contents of his lunchbox been discovered? Your mind went wild with worry.
He probably just had errands to run, Gareth had said. It was Friday night, he'd definitely be back in time for Hellfire, Jeff had assured you. And yet, he was not. After waiting half an hour for their Dungeon Master to appear, the Hellfire Club finally packed up and went home.
You went to Eddie's.
Lights off, door locked, no van in sight.
Wedging a note that read "EDWARD. CALL ME." into the crack of the trailer door, you went home and continued worrying.
The next morning, when you knew Wayne would be getting home, you called.
"H'lo?"
"Hey, Wayne. Is Eddie there?"
"Hang on, I just walked in." You heard him put the phone down, walk away, and come back a few seconds later. "He's not here, darlin."
"Do you know if he came home at all last night?"
"Nope… anything I should know?"
"I haven't seen him since lunch yesterday... he was nervous about a meeting with Miss Kelley during 4th period."
"Aw, hell," Wayne grumbled. "If he shows up, I'll get him to call you."
"Thanks, Wayne."
He hummed in acknowledgment and hung up.
You hung up your own phone and banged your head against the wall next to it. What the hell, Eddie?
You waited.
And you waited.
And then you started cleaning.
The kind of cleaning that only happens when you're trying to take your mind off something that's worrying you.
Or someone you're going to kill for causing all this worry.
You hardly slept that night. You hadn't slept the night before either. You'd left your bedroom window cracked, even though it wasn't exactly sleeping-with-the-windows-open weather, hoping that it would summon him.
It did not.
On Sunday morning, approximately 30 seconds after you'd finally drifted off, the phone began to ring.
You leaped out of bed and tried to grab it, but you were so jittery and sleep-deprived, you fumbled it. When you finally got it to your ear, you heard Wayne.
"You alright, darlin'?"
"Yeah, just dropped the phone. Did you find him?"
"He's here, but it looks like he's sleepin' one off. I'd give him a while. Just wanted you to quit worryin'."
You breathed a sigh of relief, still feeling shaky.
"Thanks, Wayne. Can I come by and murder him in a few hours?"
He chuckled. "Go easy, sweetheart. Last time he disappeared like this was when he found out he'd failed."
Shit.
"Alright, Wayne. I'll spare him this time. Thanks again for calling."
"Sure thing. I'll leave the door unlocked for you." Wayne hung up.
Well, he's alive. For now, you think bitterly.
You managed to wait until 11:27 before heading out. You stopped by the only drive-thru in town and ordered Eddie's favorite burger combo, and one for Wayne too. Eddie's was to be used for either bribery or comfort. Wayne's was a thank-you.
You pulled into your usual spot and turned off the car, taking a moment to compose yourself. Breathe. You're not here to kill him for worrying you to death. You're here to find out what's wrong, and show him that you love him. There will be no murder today.
You entered quietly. Wayne, as promised, had left the door unlocked for you. At least one Munson Man can be counted on, said the devil on one shoulder. Go easy on him, he's having a hard time, said the angel on the other. Both of you need to shut the hell up, the annoyed brain in the middle thought. Wayne was sleeping, so you left the food on the table and approached Eddie's room cautiously.
Slipping in and easing the door shut behind you, you take a minute just to watch him breathe. He's alive. He's okay. He's face-down and sprawled out in nothing but his boxers, and you can smell the sweat and booze from the door.
You tiptoe through the mess of dirty clothes on the floor and sit on the edge of the bed. You rub a hand across his back, just grateful to be close to him again. Even if he does smell like a farm animal.
He begins to stir, turning his head in your direction and inching closer to your warmth. All of your anger begins to dissipate. Damn your soft spot for Sleepy Eddie. You reach up and gently brush his hair out of his face. He slowly opens his eyes, and smiles when he sees you.
And then he scrunches his eyes shut again, reaching for his head with a groan, and buries his face in the pillow. You smile, at his adorableness and not his misery, and exit the room. You return a minute later with a tall glass of water and a bottle of painkillers. Shaking out two pills into your palm as quietly as you can, you hold them out to him. You say his name softly, and once he realizes what you want, he sits up and pops them in his mouth, then drains the glass and hands it back to you.
"Another?" He shakes his head, and you place the glass on his bedside table. You want to give him time, and to tell him you love him, and to take it easy on him like Wayne asked you to. However, what comes out of your mouth is:
"What the fuck, Eddie?"
He looks at you quizzically, and his face clouds over when realizes what you're talking about. He sinks back down into the bed, flops onto his stomach, and hides his face in the pillow again. Maybe try a softer approach?
"I'm glad you're okay. But you scared the shit out of me. What the hell happened?"
He mumbles something that you can't quite make out.
"Wanna try that again?" you ask, raising an eyebrow that he can't see.
He turns his head in away from you and speaks to the wall.
"I failed," he croaks, "AGAIN."
As usual, Wayne was right. You wish you'd spent a little less time cleaning and a little more time figuring out how to handle this potential scenario. You take a deep breath.
"Go ahead and leave me, we both know it's coming."
"What?" you ask with an incredulous chuckle.
"You can do better than the dumb-ass Super Senior. Everybody knows it."
"Okay. So I should leave you because you suck at chemistry?"
"I suck at everything."
"Eddie, I say this with love… but shut the fuck up."
For once in his life, he does.
"You are good at so many things. It's not your fault that they're not things you get graded on." He doesn't respond, so you continue. "It's high school. It's not the end of the world."
"I'm gonna be the oldest fucking senior in the history of Indiana."
"Think they'll give you a trophy?"
He scoffs. Too soon, noted.
"You'll get there next year."
"Why bother? I'll just drop out like my old man did, let the cycle continue, everyone expects it anyway."
"No."
"No?"
"No. I'll beat your ass if you drop out, and then Wayne will probably want a turn, and if there's anything left of you, maybe we'll let Hellfire have a go."
You see his body twitch like he's fighting back either a sob or a chuckle, but he doesn't make a sound.
"Plus, you'll have an advantage next year that you didn't have this time."
"What?" he asks miserably.
"Me, doofus. I'll be a senior too. And I'm going to bully Miss Kelley into putting us in the same classes, so I can ride your ass and make sure you pass this time."
"All I heard was ride my ass."
You give the aforementioned ass a sharp smack, and he jumps from the impact.
"You're gonna get there next year. You're gonna walk that stage, flip Higgins the bird, and be free of Hawkins High forever."
"You seriously believe that?"
"If I believe in anything, it's you."
He's silent for a moment, then heaves a sigh and turns over to face you.
"That was extremely cheesy."
"So's the burger I brought you," you tease through the blush rising in your cheeks. It may have been a cheesy line, but it got the job done. "Get your ass up, wash this dead animal stench off, and maybe I'll let you eat it."
He smiles and extends a hand, as if he's going to let you pull him up. You stand up and reach for him, and he pulls you down. Into the bed. Where it smells like a drunk pig has been wallowing. Then he crawls on top of you. Rubbing his stupid face all over you. Spreading his stench with a wicked grin on his face. And you can't even yell at him, because you'll wake Wayne. He knows this. The rotten bastard.
"You're lucky I love you," you hiss through gritted teeth. He stills.
"I know," he says softly, looking up at you with those big sad eyes of his. You feel your heart break a little, and lean in for a kiss.
"Jesus Christ, can you get secondhand drunk? Is that a thing?" You wipe your mouth and shove him off you, and he laughs. You roll out of his bed and start pulling clean clothes out of the dresser, throwing them at him one garment at a time. A t-shirt hits him in the face before he realizes what you're doing, and he catches the rest. He gathers his clothes and heads for the door, stopping in front of you.
"Thank you," he whispers with a lingering kiss to your forehead. You pull back and look up at him with pure adoration in your eyes. And then that mischievous twinkle returns to his. "Jesus, you smell like you've been dumpster diving. When's the last time you bathed? You should probably come get in the shower with me." You laugh and give his smart ass a shove toward the bathroom.
God, you love him.
#writings of despair#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x reader#don't mind me just snarking my way out of every situation known to man
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Guide to Sofia Coppola's cinematic universe
Written by: Au, also know as @ausantana on tumblr
A guide to start watching Sofia Coppola movies
(Srry for being unactive!)
click below to read more! ↓
Who is Sofia Coppola? 🎀
She’s Francis Ford Coppola’s daughter, Sofia began her acting career at the age of one in 1972, when her father put her in front of the camera in his legendary film "The Godfather." She has also appeared in many other films such as The Godfather. Part II" (1974), "The Rebels" (1982), "The Law of the Street" (1982), "Cotton Club" (1984) or "Peggy Sue Got Married" (1986)
In 1990, she stopped acting due to the numerous criticisms she suffered after her appearance in "The Godfather Part III."
In 1996 she directed her first film, The Virgin Suicides, which was very well received by critics. She later directed films such as "Lost in Translation" (2003), "Marie Antoinette" (2006) or "Somewhere" (2010), which made her one of the most talented filmmakers of her generation.
In addition to having created numerous great films, Coppola has also directed music videos for music groups such as Air, which was part of the soundtrack of one of her films, "The Virgin Suicides", she has created short films and promotional videos for brands like Dior.
My personal favorite is that of Miss Dior Cherie in 2005, a fragrance that we put a face to with Natalie Portman.
Click here to watch the video!
Movies that she directed 🎞️
- The virgin Suicides (1999)
- Lost in Translation (2003)
- Marie Antoinette (2006)
- Somewhere (2010)
- The Bling Ring (2013)
- A Very Murray Christmas (2015)
- The Beguiled (2017)
- On the Rocks (2020)
- Priscilla (2023)
My personal top 4 favorites!
🥇The Virgin Suicides
🥈Priscilla
🥉Marie Antoinette
4. Lost in Translation
Sofia Coppola's Filmography Analysis
Sofia uses teenage nostalgia to catch us in the smallest and smallest details that adorn her films and that take us back to some memory or even experience with her stories shows us how complicated the teenage stage can be. That feeling of loneliness, confusion or insecurity that the characters reflect with which any girl could identify and the feeling of being a teenage girl became Sofia Coppola's hallmark. And this goes far beyond the aesthetic, I'm talking about what represents more than one generation that has seen itself reflected in her films and that is why I admire her so much.
Even though it's a short post, I hope you liked it! I will try to write more often,
xoxo, Au.
#sofia coppola#movies#films#girlhood#teenagehood#the virgin suicides#lost in translation#marie antoinette#cinema#priscilla movie
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Okay with Dune 2 being mostly about messianic philosophy and the next one probably even moreso, I wanna talk about what I see as the BIG MESSIANIC PICTURE behind the setting, or at least what I believe it to be. There's going to be spoilers in here, but they're not going to be anything you're going to see on screen in this trilogy.
I'm gonna start off by highlighting something that might not be totally obvious at first glance. There are two completely different prophecies Paul finds his terrible purpose in. The Kwizatz Haderach is the ‘ultimate human’ envisioned by the Bene Gesserit who will have an enhanced power of prescience because he can project the Other Memory through both the X and Y chromosome and free humanity from its animal nature. The Lisan al-Gaib is a myth planted in the Fremen culture by the Bene Gesserit in case the Sisterhood ever needed to control them. The big tldr is that Bene Gesserit training involves a lot of learning through observation, so their kids tend to learn things so fast it looks like they already knew them and they pass that off as a miracle.
I think it’s pretty obvious we’re supposed to find this Kwizatz Haderach thing pretty sus. The disciples of this prophecy are themselves purveyors of false prophecy. Paul certainly doesn’t believe he’s the Kwizatz Haderach, and that’s because he knows he’s not the Lisan al-Gaib. But he does wind up ticking the boxes. He does in fact survive the Water of Life ritual despite his sex. He is indeed uniquely prescient because he can see both sides of the Other Memory. Thing is as we move forward into the books that are not getting movies, we’re asked to reinspect this because of all the other Kwizatz Haderachs.
Brian Herbert gets kind of a raw deal because he didn’t have his father’s writing chops, but we’re comparing him directly to a person many consider to be the greatest science fiction author of all time. What he did have is a deeper insight into his dad’s setting and philosophies than anyone else, so miss me with any mess about which books you don’t consider canon unless you’re ready to go all Council of Nicea with me. Anyway, a really prominently weird thing that loses a lot of people is that Paul’s kid is a worm. He’s not born that way, he basically does the Water of Life ritual in the middle of a bunch of pupating sand worm larvae and comes out of it as a big worm with a human head that can produce spice in his own body. Leto II claims that he’s the Kwizatz Haderach, and to be fair, he is way more of an ‘ultimate being’ than his dad. People worship him not as a prophet, but as a god. Paul brought revolution to the universe, Leto II brought peace. It’s the peace of a godlike tyrant who can read minds and punish dissidence before it happens, but as long as we’re comparing people to their dads it's not like he started a race war that killed 26 billion people in the name of ‘justice.’
You may have heard Duncan Idaho winds up being the real Kwizatz Haderach. If you remember that gimp suit beetle thing in the first movie, the Harkonnens and their Tlelaxu buddies take dead people and turn them into sort of clone-zombie servitors called gholas. I’m not making any promises, but there is a real possibility the third movie will have Jason Momoa in a gimp suit, because Duncan is the best ghola. The second Duncan Idaho, bearing the edgy mid-century sci-fi moniker Hayt, is a gift from the Tlelaxu to Paul after his rise to power as an ostensible ‘we’re sorry we helped the Harkonnens kill your entire family.’ If you’ve seen the 1984 Dune movie you’ll know that the Duke of House Atreides keeps a pug. What you might not know is that it’s been the same pug for 10,000 years by virtue of genetic xeroxing. Once Leto II takes over, Duncan becomes the new house pug. Duncans serve as mentats, swordmasters, philosophers, and more over millenia of incarnations. Eventually one of the Duncans gets slammed with all the memories of the previous Duncans and he’s got this totally bizarre version of the Other Memory where he can remember all of his ancestors' memories, but his ancestors are also himself. Thereafter he can run like the Flash and fistfight robots and people call him the Kwizatz Haderach. Like I said, Brian’s books are petty controversial among fans.
Also the reverse-Bene Gesserit wind up making a Bizarro Kwizatz Haderach at one point but he’s just prescient enough to see that there isn’t a future where he isn’t just a washed up fraud.
Now let’s put it all together. I think the core philosophical study at the center of Dune is the question ‘What is a messiah?’ And like any great work of art it really is more about the question than the answer. Our three Kwizatz Haderachs (I’m not gonna count Thallo, he’s more like an allegory for Joel Olstein) propose some possibilities. Paul is the guy who ticks all the boxes. His messianic status is descriptive, not prescriptive. He isn’t actually the guy the Bene Gesserit thought it was going to be, so that notion of predestination is gone, but if the Kwizatz Haderach is ‘the man who can use the Other Memory,’ then he’s it. He and the people around him knew the prophecy and chose to lean in that direction, he got
Leto II is the closest thing to a divine manifestation that fits in this universe. He is literally in the body of one of the unstoppable forces of nature the Fremen venerate as their protector. He calls himself ‘God-Emperor’ in a setting where every man, woman, child, face dancer, and thing in between is raised on the principle that there is a monotheistic creator deity and that deity wants humanity to flourish. Everyone who didn’t believe in God got killed by robots ten thousand years ago. By insisting on literal religious worship of his political station, Leto II is seriously making some waves. Imo this is sort of like an extreme example where the question is more like ‘Is this what it takes before you’ll call someone the messiah?’ Even then, the fact that this dude is definitely NOT God in the way this setting understands it casts aspersions on the idea of a visibly supernatural force being inherently divine.
Finally, Duncan is a total freak accident. He is the ‘perfect human’ because he has been iterated on and improved over and over again, but he has nothing at all to do with the Bene Gesserit breeding program. Thousands of years after the Fremen uprising, when everyone thinks the Kwizatz Haderach is ancient history, there’s this guy with super powers. Unlike Paul, there’s no prophecy to suggest he might be the Chosen One and no decision to lean into the mythos surrounding it. The idea of iteration is really important with Duncan. Pardon the unflattering comparison, but there’s something kind of Heglian in how perfection is an inevitability as long as someone keeps stirring the pot.
I would argue that aspects of all of this are present in the first book. Leto II and Duncan are just deeper explorations of some of the questions posed by Paul. And if I’m to wrap this all up with a neat little bow, I think the point of it is that they’re all totally valid Kwizatz Haderachs. ‘Kwizatz Haderach’ are just words. For ten thousand years, there was a description of a thing and nothing existed that fit that description. There was a plan to create something that fit the bill, but we got a guy who could do the miracle even when we went off script. At that point it just seems like a semantic argument. Likewise, Leto II is pretty much God. He’s immortal, he sees all things past and future, his body produces and feeds him the chemical that puts him in that trippy oneness-with-everything. He sure as fuck isn’t what anyone was expecting God to look like, but it’s pretty much theologicially bankrupt to be like ‘Excuse me, something isn’t the universal superbeing unless it’s exactly what I already had in mind’ even if people do exactly that all the time. If the 400 meter single worm-boot fits, as they say. I’m not exactly how to make this sound as serious as I mean it, but Duncan as Kwizatz Haderach is basically like Brian Herbert shoving the pile of Korans off his desk and going ‘Fuck it, look.’ This guy’s got nothing to do with the Bene Gesserit. He has the genetic memory of his masculine ancestors, but you probably couldn’t get away with calling it the same thing Paul does in court. Half the reason he gets called the ‘perfect human’ is the sentiment expressed by ‘Oh dawg, Duncan, bro, he’s the realest, most human out of any of us.’ He is just called the Kwizatz Haderach because that is the language that exists in the culture that is closest to what he is. But you know what? Same with Paul, or Leto II, or even the Joel Olstein guy I mentioned.
Prophecies don’t predict saviors, they make them. Chani has a line in the new movie that’s something like ‘Promise them a messiah and they will wait forever,’ and I think that’s Dune boiled down to its most essential notion.
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Who Ya Gonna Call?
This is going to be a rambling mental health dump about yesterday. Be warned.
So yesterday afternoon I watched Ghostbusters, my all time favorite movie, that I saw for the first time when I was 6 in 1984, and have seen likely hundreds of times since then, with a friend I've had for several years now who is at least as old as me, who had NEVER seen it. I fucking love watching this movie, especially with people who are seeing it for the first time. My son leaves the room when I watch it because, "Mom it's honestly weird that you know every single word of dialogue." My friend commented on that too, even watching it 'together' long distance and communicating via text. I can't help it. I love it. She asked me why I love it so much. I didn't want to write her a full length doctoral dissertation on Ghostbusters while she was actively watching it with me for her first viewing, but here will be a long essay about a couple of the reasons I love it so much today. I wrote an essay before about how I love that the Ghostbusters are good men, about how even cocky, wryly comedic, womanizing Pete Venkman (Bill Murray) reveres informed consent. I've written about how much J is like Egon Spengler. Some folks have heard me talk about how this movie connects me to A, who's my best friend who passed away last December (You want me to get REAL emotional and sappy, talk to me about Ghostbusters Afterlife. That's obviously about both the afterlife and Egon Spengler. That's like ...a lot. But that's another whole essay. I'm sure I could have just a Ghostbusters blog.)
Today I'm gonna write about 2 things though that no one really thinks about when they see Ghostbusters and one of them is HYPER specific, and it will probably only land if someone else reading this is a freakish super fan like me. But here we go.
At the very beginning of Ghostbusters, Pete Venkman is doing a 'psychological experiment' as a professor at Columbia University, where he claims to be studying, 'the effects of negative reinforcement on ESP (extra sensory perception) ability.' The comedy is that his experiment is shit because he's skewing results in favor of a pretty girl he's trying to pick up. But if you pay attention to the scene his actual results are showing that negative reinforcement improves ESP ability. The poor student getting the mild electric shock on the incorrect guesses, does get one right after 4 misses. And while I can't name the card you pull out of a deck without looking at it, or actually read minds, nor did I ever get actual electric shocks or other physical pain-type negative reinforcement growing up, the subtle negative reinforcement I did constantly get from my family except my grandparents essentially trained me to fucking figure out from whatever you can observe and feel in your space how to navigate it and make a guess at what people need or expect from you in order to avoid that. In my case...I think the negative reinforcement enhanced my 'ESP ability,' for better or worse. I've had many people in my life straight up ask me if I was psychic before. I'm not. I just have a trauma history that makes me so hyper aware of other people's feelings and needs that I can fairly accurately project and predict what they'll do and say a lot of the time. And the closer I am emotionally to that person/the more time I spend with them, the better I get at it. I like that part of Ghostbusters.
And the other piece I want to rant about is the silly commercial they make for the business that ends with the line, "We're ready to believe you," and of course, the catchphrase, "Who ya gonna call?" I'm an honest person. I don't lie. But that doesn't mean I'm always believed. My feelings and needs for attention and affection were ignored, denied, and negated often by pretty much everyone in my life except for my grandparents, A, J, my son(mostly), and some online friends. I don't trust them all the time either. It goes back to all that negative reinforcement and overused and overly relied upon ESP ability. Actually, I don't even trust myself a lot of the time, even though I'm not a dishonest person, especially if I'm thinking or feeling something good or hopeful. My default about people I love and want to trust, and even about my own feelings is, "This can't be real (implied: because it's good)." But the Ghostbusters are ready to believe me. They won't ignore, deny, or negate my experience. It's their promised business model and mission statement. And J and I woke up at 2am today and talked all morning about...life. And about how hard it is to trust and rely on other people other than each other. About how neither of us have anyone really, that we feel would be of any real help to us other than each other. All of our closest emotional connections are scattered and fragile, and all of our closest geographic connections are tenuous at best, but actually basically unreliable to the point of uselessness. We don't have anyone to call. We ARE who other people call. I'm 46 years old and a parent and a homeowner and a college graduate, but I admit I wish we could call Ghostbusters. I like that part of Ghostbusters too. They understand my negative reinforcement and they're ready to believe me and if there's something strange in my neighborhood, I can call them. That's basically my lifelong relationship fantasy. That's why I love J so much. It's why I miss A so badly. They give/gave me that for real.
That's not all of why I love Ghostbusters so much, but it's a start. Thanks for watching it with me yesterday. You don't really know how helpful and necessary it was for me to get through the day. ❤️
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Thoughts on Space Babies and The Devil's Chord, in no particular order:
So we agree that the overarching storyline for this season is stories becoming real, yeah? Starts with invoking folklore at the end of the universe, is solidified with the Toymaker and his rules of play, used heavily in The Church on Ruby Road, and now children's fairytales and musicals? Fascinated to see where this is going!
Generally ridiculously camp and bonkers and you know what, I goddamn missed that. It had whimsy. It had space babies and musical battles! It was fun and ridiculous and just. Felt good, man.
And it also had far-future dystopias and reproductive horror and slow starvation and suffocation and refugees and a timeline of depression and nuclear winter simply to create the universe's biggest aeolian harp so, you know. Doctor Who is back, baby!
Space Babies
Okay the episode was pretty fun and, at times, sweet (they saved the monster!) but oy the CGI/voice acting for the babies was… not great XD;;
Rani reference!
RTD detractors: "Ew, fart jokes with the Slitheen, so immature." RTD, writing an elaborate snot joke that ends with a colossal projectile shart: "Watch this :D"
Okay yes the projectile shart to get the space station moving is one thing, but, uh. How is it going to stop? XD;;
The nanny filter made me giggle each time.
I actually had to go back and check because I was squinting at the readout trying to work out what's weird and somehow failed a spot check and missed the fact that it had started snowing. Good observational skills, self. Anyway, the snow is definitely a Message. (Is it snow? Like I agree that it's connected with the day Ruby was born, but is what's falling in the church scene snow to begin with?)
Do you. Do you think the butterfly can regenerate now.
The Devil's Chord
Oooh, a Pantheon! Love a Pantheon. There's mention of the One Who Waits, speculation on whether 'the Oldest One' was there the day Ruby was born, we already have the Toymaker -> Maestro line, so maybe we'll be getting others? Also, the way Maestro phrased something earlier was fascinating too - "the Lord Temporal who sealed my father in salt". The Lord Temporal. There's been a lot of references to how the Doctor isn't just a Time Lord, maybe they're part of the Pantheon too, as the personification of time? Regeneration and Time Lord society all coming from this base primordial being?
Anyway I goddamn adore Maestro.
I wonder if we'll get Susan at the end of this season? (See: last link of this section!)
July 2024? So that's a good six months of travelling unaccounted for! Big Finish just going 👀
Semi-related but Ruby saying she was born in 2004 gave me a Crisis. Rose was 19 in 2005 and born the same year as me. Yeah okay I am good with that! Martha born in either 1986 or 1984, yep, fine, all checks out. But now there's a companion who was born when I was already an adult how is that legal.
"He ripped my soul in two." Oof.
The sonic actually did something sonic!
"I thought it was non-diegetic!!" I have so many questions. The walls are getting thin. Yeah, especially the fourth! (Random thought: Doctor Who official ARG?)
Lennon-McCartney saves the world! (I still like Harrison's stuff better.)
Apparently Murray Gold had a cameo but I have no idea what he looks like so it went completely over my head lmao
Missed opportunity to play The Devil Went Down To Georgia or The Devil's Trill, although we did get Danse Macabre and Rhapsody in Blue (which I put on as soon as the episode finished)!
Fun fact about Danse Macabre: "The solo violin enters playing the tritone, which was known as the diabolus in musica ("the Devil in music") during the Medieval and Baroque eras, consisting of an A and an E♭—in an example of scordatura tuning, the violinist's E string has actually been tuned down to an E♭ to create the dissonant tritone." (People hated it when it premiered. It made them feel anxious. Which is... kind of appropriate.)
There's always a twist at the end~ (I thought it was little H.Arbringer, but who knows?)
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