#this is all because of a wonderful comment I got
Text
FLOWER POWER
pairing: carlos sainz x reader
summary: everyone knows that carlos is not the type of person who likes flowers. of course everyone also knows that dislike will turn into the opposite, just like him with flowers.
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HIS QNA OVER TIME, SAME TOPIC:
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yourusername
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yourusername Sunday 💮
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username Carlos you can run but you can't hide
username i mean i understand why's he liking this tho... her bouquet collection are PERFECT
username This is the type of thing that I need to see in the morning
username I'm convinced that Carlos is just pretending to be a flower hater. Because who hates flowers?
username The wall he had created for them poor flowers are finally collapsed because of her
username SHE BROKE CARLOS'S ACTING?
username okay fight me, but i definitely understand on why is he even breaking his character
username I'll fight you because idk what is he looking in these posts
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yourusername
liked by carlossainz55 and 27,367 others
yourusername Another collection, and it's STUNNING!
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username YESS GIVE US YOUR TOP ANGLE WITH THOSE FLOWERS TO US
username Now I wonder who's giving her those flowers...
username ＠mileycyrus Definitely oml 🙄🙄🙄
username no but for real it is stunning
carlossainz55 💐
charles_leclerc It's her second post about his bouquets and he's already got down this bad
username THE WHAT????!!!!?!?!?!11?1!
username He cannot say sike here I'm afraid
username He can't because he's blindly in love with her
username the power she held over him is so strong, he forgets about his whole dislike about this plant
yourusername
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yourusername Flower power!
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landonorris thanks to your power to break down all of his fakeness that has lasted for 4 years 😒😒 too bad that i bought it
carlossainz55 Everyone has their secret, but for this one is different
landonorris yeah keep lying to us cheater
carlossainz55 WHAT ARE YOU CALLING ME CHEATER FOR
robertomerhi I thought that this could never be discovered, but I guess you uncovered it yourself 🤣
carlossainz55 Why are you guys turning against me now
username idk guys but i guess y/n is the fourth person here
username she's so cute omg, i've never seen her full face this year
username CARLOS CAN YOU FIGHT?
username flower lover gf 🤝 flower hater bf
username forget him i want a flower lover gf too
carlossainz55 added photos to their story! · 27m
carlossainz55
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carlossainz55 Monday morning activities 🌄🌞💐
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username IT'S REAL?????😨😨😨😨😨😨
username What kind witchcraft did she use to make him like flower again?
username AGAIN?
username I need her ig user
username ＠yourusername
georgerussell63 I feel something was not quite right here...
alex_albon Yeah, me too 🤨🤨🤨
username IVE BEEN WAITED FOR THIS
username next time, she'll convince him to open a flower shop in italy
maxverstappen1 I didn't know that you liked flower, you told me that you hated it until that time one time you didn't even enters the room because there's lavender in it.
kellypiquet Love can make it all disappears 😌
danielricciardo Wait, I didn't know that
yourusername added a photo to their story! · 14m
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taglist: @queenofmanydreams @muglermami @4limq @avengers-assemble123456 @cabbyhabs @meowtastick @4mula-1 @miarabanana @amel1ee @dinosushilun1 @auggieblogs @namgification @charli123456789 @cherry-piee
#✶!#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x female reader#carlos sainz smau#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz fluff#carlos sainz fic#carlos sainz fanfic#f1 fluff#f1 fic#f1 imagines#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#f1 x female reader#f1 x y/n#f1 x you#f1 smau#f1 instagram au#carlos sainz instagram au#carlos sainz
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tell me if you like it — RAFE CAMERON
authors note HIGHLY recommend you listen to me & you by cassie remix because it gives me total rafe vibes. i'm so close to 800 lovies, i adore you all. i switched my style with line dividers and i'm probably gonna stick with it for now on.
summary you've had your eyes on rafe cameron for sometime now and everyone knows your attraction towards him. you attend one of his parties one friday night with your girlfriends and make your official move on the kook king.
warnings drinking, smoking, alcohol, drugs, partying, kissing/making out, mentions of sex,
Rafe Cameron sent out a text about throwing a party at his place while Ward and Rose are out of town for the weekend. The minute word got out people were talking about the party.
You knew the instant after receiving the text that tonight would be the night you made your official move on Rafe Cameron. Everyone, including Cameron, knows you've had your eye on him for a while.
Rafe is waiting for you to make your final move, according to Topper and Kelce. To you, he appears to be playing a game, a waiting game. So you've been playing the game he prefers.
You’ve always wondered why Rafe himself hasn’t made his move on you yet. The thought runs through your mind occasionally.
The party was full when you arrived. People were drunk, smoking weed, doing other drugs, dancing, and who knows what else.
You came in with your head held high, scanning the crowd for your friend group, but first you needed a drink.
You walked into the kitchen, which was stocked with various types of alcohol. You are craving seltzer, so you grabbed a truly from the fridge. You went on a search for your friends after closing the frigid.
Your name was called from the corner of the house by the girls. When you saw them wave you over, you turned in their direction. When they saw you approaching, their mouths dropped open.
"I must say Y/N, you look so hot!" Ella, one of your best friends, says she's hyping you up by gazing at you up and down.
"If Rafe doesn't get you tonight, he's definitely going to miss out," Melina says, resting against the wall.
The other girls agreed with Melina and Ella's comments.
"You two are really kind. Plus, y'all look so good I might melt" you compliment them back.
"I'll be making my final move on him; I just need to find him first," you say with a nice smile, gazing over your shoulder for Cameron boy.
"Dude we saw him earlier walking out back to smoke a blunt with Kelce but haven't seen him since" Ella informs you.
Thirty minutes go by, you four are dancing together to the beat of the music. Laughing and drinking together while listening to music that keeps you dancing.
For the past five minutes you can feel eyes on you the entire time you’ve been dancing with the girls. You lift your head up slowly, Rafe is standing with a group of his friends.
You’ve been waiting so long, I’m here to answer your call.
I know that I shouldn’t have had you waiting at all.
You two lock eyes. No one is breaking it.
He's dressed in a white tee, black cargo pants, a gold chain around his neck, and a snapback. Oh, that gold chain.
As you continue to dance to the beat of the song, tension builds in your body. Knowing Rafe is watching gives you excitement. You look over your shoulder, he's looking at you amongst the crowd of people.
You tell the girls as you pull away you are gonna have a little chat with Rafe for a moment but knowing that will be a for a while.
When Rafe sees you getting closer, he feels his body tense up. More so with excitement.
“Hey Rafe,” you smiled nicely, giving him a hug, running your hand down his arm.
He wraps his arm around you, “hey Y/N” Rafe says, looking down at you softly, “How are you enjoying the party?” He asks before taking a sip of his drink in his free hand.
“Yeah, I am. My friends and I have been having a great time” You say, trying to play it off you are about to make your final move.
Throughout the conversation, you keep eye contact, something you've always done with people. Conversation was casual yet with a hint of flirtatious moments.
Rafe's body communicates that he is attempting to maintain his calm. You tilt your head slightly, a smile spreading across your face.
"If you girls need anything I'll be around the house," he lets you know, moving his hand in a circling motion.
Your thinking tells you to say something that will catch him off guard.
Slowly nodding, stepping on your tiptoes, placing your free hand around Rafe's neck and dragging him to your height, "What if I need something from you?" Your voice sounded enticing, as you pull away.
Your gaze lands on the gold chain. Playing with it, twisting it with your index finger.
Rafe's lip slides against his bottom lip, forming into a smirk. He knows what you are doing to him. He likes it.
I know I shouldn't have you waiting at all.
I've been so busy, but I've been thinking about you.
What I wanna do to you.
"Oh really, what would that be? enlighten me,"
Oh he's really good you think to yourself.
"I think you know what I mean, Rafe."
"I don't think I do, Y/N," mocking your tone.
In your mind, you want to go and see what he does, or you want to stay by his side for the rest of the night and sleep in his sheets. It can go either way, but you'll most likely be in his sheets, or not.
You finally inform Rafe that you'll be getting back to your girlfriends, who are waiting for you someplace in the home. The look on his face indicated that he did not want you to leave him.
He leans nearer and places his hand on your wrist, "No, don't leave right now. Can I give you a tour of the the house?" He suggested.
You give him a questionable look as if you were debating it.
"Vip access for special people,"
Jack pot.
"I would love that."
The rest of the night, you stayed at Rafe's side. You had him hooked around your finger and it only took you a few words out your mouth. The expressions on your girls' faces were wonderful; they were secretly cheering you on across the room. Of course, they kept a close eye on you while enjoying themselves.
When Rafe took you around the house, he made sure you had the best tour of your life. You could not believe how large the house was. He showed you his room last, which was maintained clean and tidy. His tv is on the wall below his dresser. The smell of cologne flooded your lungs and smelled pleasant.
After, you two took a few shots, smoked a joint, played drinking games, danced, and made out.
You now have your back against Rafe's chest, and his hand is around your waist, holding you close. You'll occasionally move your hips to the side to the beat of the song, causing him to pull you closer.
Everyone has taken to the dance floor in the huge living room. You both circle all of Rafe's buddies. You've met them many times before. Your girlfriends were a few feet away.
Rafe's hand was gliding itself up and down your waist then your ass giving it a couple squeezes.
You turn around and place both hands on his lower the abdomen. You looked at each other with lust and desperation. You examine his lips first, contemplating whether you should kiss him first. You do.
Lips moved in sync. Tongues fighting for dominance. The feeling felt electric. Your body was craving him more and more.
"I think it's time I gave me another good tour, but this time in my bedroom," he breathlessly mumble in your ear, eager.
You groan from his words, nodding.
The way he spoke those words to you made you feel like you were on cloud nine. Excitement in your lower stomach started jumping.
Before you head upstairs, Rafe wraps his arm around Topper's shoulder, whispers in his ear, "Make sure you get these people out of here in an hour, then you can either stay here or go home." Topper nods and pats his shoulder.
You couldn't take your hands off each other on the way up to his bedroom; laughing, touching, and kissing.
"You look so beautiful tonight, couldn't take my eyes off you," he says as he lays you on his soft sheets, runs his hands down your sides, and admires your physique.
The words coming out Rafe's mouth made your cheeks grow red. You watch Rafe's eyes scan your body before he grabs the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your body.
You feel yourself grow impatient, Rafe senses it, he smirks.
"Don't worry, angel, we're just getting started," he said, dropping his head, kissing your stomach, and moving closer to your underwear line.
Your hands slide through his hair, gently pulling, eliciting a gasp from Rafe's lips. You smirk at yourself.
Pulls your skirt down and throws your underwear across the room before bringing itching closer to your core. Chills run down your spine, and you breathe heavily as Rafe's breath fans on your bare core.
The sexual tension grows stronger. Rest of your night consisted of the both of your moans filling the bedroom.
my taglist!
✰ if you would like to be added to my taglist and be notified whenever i post please let me know in the comments or in my ask box. if there's a line across your name that means i couldn't find your account.
@diqldrunks @chenslucy @winterrrnight @rosezza @solanathascientst @runningfrom2am @diqldrunks
#rafe cameron#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x kook!reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron one shot#rafe cameron fluff#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x y/n#outerbanks rafe#rafe outer banks#drew starkey#drew starkey imagine#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey x you#drew starkey blurb#drew starkey fanfiction#drew starkey/rafe cameron 🍒
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Haii!
How do we feel about a smut with pornstar reader & pornstar Konig? Like- their comments in their vids/twts/etc. always saying to collab w/ eachother and after awhile, they finally do 👀
-🖤
(Also sorry if I already sent this- I forgot if I did😭)
You didn't! I love the idea of being shipped with Pornstar!König. The Austrian with a monster cock🤤
Pornstar!König x Pornstar!Reader (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, p in v, oral
3.1k word count
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König is famous in the adult film world. During lock down he downloaded Only Fans and ended up making his own account. His striking blue eyes, hidden face mystery, and 6’10 280 lb frame of solid muscles weren’t the only reasons he became so famous; he also has a 10-inch cock the size of most women’s forearms.
You, on the other hand, are a cam girl turned OF girl. You are known by your fan base never being scared of a challenge. You use toys that make people's jaws drop. Your body being strikingly stunning along with a beautiful face and kinky appetite for sex, you blew up quickly on the platform.
Because of the material you make, your fans instantly made you aware of another content creator, König. After about the 100th comment, you decide to go on your X account and check out his page. Instantly you notice the mask covering his face and his blue eyes. His bio gives his height and weight, your jaw drops. You continue to scroll and see a photo he’s recently posted. He’s wearing gray sweatpants with no shirt. His body is stunning, but your eyes drop to the outline of his erection in his pants, his dick literally hanging down his leg. You smirk now, understanding why the fans think you two should film together. You go ahead and give him a follow.
◅ ◃ ▹ ▻
König has also seen the comments. After the first one he instantly looked you up. His eyes shot open when he saw the photo of toys on your profile. Scrolling down a few posts he sees you, and wow. You’re wearing a pink lace thong with your breast fully exposed. You have a sweet smile on your face and you’re standing in a field of wildflowers. You look ethereal. He instantly took notice of you, but contrary to his online persona, he is very socially awkward. He has no idea how to reach out to you, or any girl; that’s why he only posts solo. Then while he is scrolling looking at his feed, he gets a notification. You just followed him.
He quickly sits up and smiles. He clicks your profile and begins to look at all the photos you’ve posted again. His heart rate is picking up, he doesn’t know if he should message you or wait. That’s when your phone chimed and he got the notification that you messaged him.
> “Hey! I’m sure you know of me from your comments 😂, but I’m y/n!”
He reads your message probably ten times before getting the courage to respond to you.
> “Hey, ja, I know you. It’s nice to finally talk.”
He hits send quickly and waits for you to respond. He can feel his heart rate picking up. He hopes that you’re messaging him to make content together. He can feel his excitement rising as his leg bounces waiting for your next message.
You sit feeling nervous yourself as you look down at your phone. He responded so quickly it didn’t give you time to think of a smooth way to ask about a collab. You’ve only ever filmed solo or with women, never a man.
> “I was wondering if you’d be interested in maybe getting together? I see you mostly do solo, so please feel no pressure. I just figured the fans would love it.”
König stands and punches the air like his favorite sports team had just won the big game. Now he just has to act smoothly and not ruin this.
> “I’d love to.”
Both of you do a little celebration dance, feeling excited about the possibility of filming together. You both continue to message back and forth and work out how you’d both meet on account of him being based in Austria, but you both work something out.
◅ ◃ ▹ ▻
One week later you post on your social media accounts a photo of a plane at the airport. The comments explode with assumptions and more tagging of König. During the next few hours, you continue to post your travels while König doesn’t post at all.
That is until he posts a photo of a small feminine hand in his and then you post a bathroom mirror selfie with a man’s large arm around your waist. You sit with König in your Airbnb on the living room sofa, both giggling as people begin to realize the collab is about to happen.
König paid for you to fly to him, picked you up at the airport, and paid for your Airbnb. You knew König was 6’10, but seeing him in person actually blew you away. Plus, he is so sweet. In person, his face remains covered by the mask. You have questions, but you leave it alone.
Your first day together you spend the day going over health, boundaries, safe words, and any questions you might have for each other. Once everything is settled, you both plan to film the next day to allow you to get some rest.
◅ ◃ ▹ ▻
König wakes up early and works out the day of filming. He eats a light breakfast and takes a long shower to help with his nerves. He is excited to have sex with a woman that he knows is very capable of taking someone his size instead of having only the tip of his cock in someone. Getting dressed in sweats and a black shirt, he makes his way to you.
You are currently sitting on the floor in front of a full-length mirror to do your makeup. You just do a light natural look for today. You’re wearing a black silk robe over your nude body with two sets of lingerie set out, waiting to get König’s opinion.
A knock at the door, you jump up and rush to the front door. Smiling, you let König inside and motion for him to follow you to the main bedroom.
“Okay, so I have two options for today and I wanted your input.”
He follows you to see a large king size bed with white lush looking comforters and he feels his nerves spike again. He sees one black lingerie set and then a light pink one that looks like the one from the first photo he ever saw of you.
“Pink, it will look great with your skin tone.” König says looking at you with a soft smile behind his mask.
You grab pink and go to the connected bathroom to get dressed.
König walks around the room and sets up the ring lights and cameras for different angles. He stands looking around and waiting for you. Slowly he takes his shoes off when the bathroom door opens and he gets to see you. He’s seen you naked online, but in person you looked even more perfect. He stands and just looks at you for a while before speaking.
“You look lovely.”
“Thank you,” you can’t help but to find his Austrian accent attractive. “Thanks for setting up too.”
“Oh, it’s not a problem.” König reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it off.
Your eyes go over his body and smirk at how attractive he looks. You notice his erection forming as you walk to the bed.
“Do you want to film everything? Like role play and all?” You ask in a soft voice, the tension in the air heavy as you’re both ready now.
“Uh, let's film it all. I’d rather have more to edit from.” And also, because he’d want to watch these moments with you later.
◅ ◃ ▹ ▻
König lifts his mask slightly, the first time his audience will be seeing his sharp jawline and his thin soft lips. His lips meet yours in a tender first kiss as his hands begin to roam over your body. His hand squeezes your breast gently as your lips part and your tongues caress each other’s.
You move your hand down his chest, feeling the small amount of chest hair the covers his chest. His muscles twitch lightly at your touch. His penis now fully erect in his pants as he tastes your lips and feels the touch of your soft skin.
He moves his hands behind your back and begins to unhook your bra. Slipping the straps off your shoulders slowly before pulling it away from your body. He breaks the kiss and gently leans you back on the bed. His lips kiss all over your breasts until he finds one of your nipples. He licks in slow circles around it before closing his lips and sucking lightly. Opening his mouth again he begins to flick his tongue.
You let out a soft moan as your hand reaches for the back of his head, pressing him against you, the fabric of his mask soft. His other hand goes down to your thighs and begins to gently move up them, caressing the soft skin on the inside of your thighs.
He pulls away from your breasts and whispers to you, “Is it okay if I touch?”
“Yeah,” you smile at him asking for consent.
His hand grabs your leg and moves it to where the camera can see everything, He moves the thin fabric of your thong aside and begins to rub his thick fingers between your folds. You’re already wet when he touches you and that excites him knowing you’re so turned on. He moves his lips back to yours as he gently rubs your clit. Small moans leaving your lips, muffled into his. He eventually slips one finger down and pushes it gently into you. He feels the texture of your walls and feels how tight you are. He can only think about shoving himself deep inside of you, but he wants you to get off first.
He moves his kisses from your lips back down to your breast before kissing down your stomach. He moves your leg a little more as he rests his head on your thigh, he kisses your clit before flicking his tongue. Your legs jerk and you sit up to look down at him eating you out. He can’t get over how good you smell and taste. He is surprised you aren’t selling your panties; men would pay big money for this.
“Oh, fuck König,” you moan caressing the side of his face.
König slips in another finger as picks up his pace, as he continues to lick your clit. Hearing you moan his name means that he is on the right path to get you to orgasm for him. Your hand grasps the fabric of his mask, making him smirk before he switches to begin just sucking your clit. Your legs tremble as you drop your head back and lay back down. The sound of your wet cunt gets louder as you cum on his fingers. He keeps going for a while before pulling back.
You lie there panting before you giggle and sit up, “Your tongue is amazing.”
He chuckles and goes in to kiss you, making you taste your sweet pussy on your own lips. You move your hands to his chest before moving down to his cock, pulling back you pull at the waistband of his sweatpants. His heart rate began to pick up. The videos of you deep throating your toys comes into his mind and he gets excited. Lifting his ass, König helps you pull his sweats off of him, boxers as well.
Seeing his cock spring free makes you smile; his cock is as big as some of your toys. König leans back to support himself on his elbows to allow you room but he still wants to watch.
Grasping his dick at the base, you stroke it lightly as you lick the back of his tip. König’s breathing heavy as his blue eyes watch with anticipation. You move your hand and lick from the base all the way up his shaft, back and forth and a few times before finally wrapping your lips around the head of his cock. You begin to suck on the tip and move your head in a fast motion making König moan out. He reaches down and moves some of your hair out of your face.
“Ah, ja, just like that.” His voice shakes as you keep going.
Finally, you lower your head down the length of his shaft. Your full lips wrapping tightly around him as you take his ten inches inch by inch down your throat. König watches in amazement as he has never had a woman be able to take more than half his cock into their throat. He takes a sharp breath before letting a small moan out.
You feel a bit of pride being able to take someone like him, to make him moan like that. You look up at his eyes as you continue to suck his cock.
“Is this okay?” König asks as his hand moves to the back of your head.
“Mmhhmm,” you respond without stopping.
His hand gently guides you motion as the other one is behind him supporting himself. He lets himself enjoy the pleasure of your skills. Gently lifting your face with one hand he brings your lips to his, lifting his mask and kissing you. He wants you fully now.
Pushing your body back without breaking the kiss, his hands caress your body. You both agreed on no condom but to us the pull out method and since both of you are clean. Slowly pulling away from your soft lips he looks down at you and removes your thong, tossing it to the side.
“Are you ready, Schatz?”
“I am.”
“Gut.”
Grabbing you by your hips he drags you forward. He is such a massive man that he can easily move you. You giggle as he does and he responds with a chuckle of his own.
“Your voice is so sweet.” He tells you as he grasps your thigh as pulls one leg back for the camera view again. He rubs himself back and forth over your folds before he begins to push himself into you. His eyes watch your face to watch for pain or discomfort, yet he sees nothing but bliss.
König pushes himself as far in as your tight cunt will take at first. You moan out, grabbing his arm and the bed sheets. Your sweet pussy welcomes him with a warm wet hug and he pushes in more, a moan leaving his lips as you take him.
“You’re so tight, Schatz.” König speaks with a voice dripping with lust. His hips begin to thrust harder into you, letting his desire take over.
Your lips hug his fat cock as he pumps it into you leaving your creamy cum on his cock. He pulls out and stands to grab one of the cameras. He comes back and points it to your pussy as he slides his cock back into you, recording the way your tight cunt can easily stretch for him.
“Look at that beautiful pussy, you truly take cock so well. So fucking tight.” He picked up his pace, holding the camera in place as you reached down and put your own leg back. Your fingers digging into your own flesh as you moan out his name.
“Please König, fuck me.” You look into his eyes begging for him to get you off again.
König returns the gaze as he fucks you harder. The phone picking up the sounds your pussy is making and both of your moans.
“That’s it, cum for me, good girl.”
Your eyes flutter back as your body tenses, your cunt tightening around his cock. He puts the phone down and fucks you through your orgasm letting the other cameras pick it up. His body leaning into yours as your hands move to his back and begin to drag your nails along his pale skin.
“Good girl,” he whispers to you as he lifts his mask slightly to kiss you all over your neck and face. His hands grasp your body tightly as he continues to thrust into you. His balls begin to tighten and he feels the temptation of just cumming deep inside of you, but he can’t.
Quickly König pulls out and grabs the phone again to record. “Come here,” he grabs your hand to pull you up and sits at the edge of the bed. He points the camera down at you as you scoot closer to his cock.
Moving your pillowy lips up and down his cock, sucking as you do. You begin to lick your own wet from his cock.
“Suck it Liebling,” his voice breathy.
You move your mouth to wrap around his cock again. König grabs your hair in his hand to hold your head steady as he begins to buck his hops forward, face fucking you gently. You look up at him, not breaking eye contact as he looks down at you. He moves his 10-inch cock deeper and deeper as he fucks faster. Your eyes begin to water as you close your eyes.
“Open, look at me. Please.” König moans.
Once your eyes open and you look back up at him, he presses your head all the way down. His cock outline is visible in your throat. You gargle on his cock before he pulls it out and begins to jerk off quickly. You open your mouth and hold your breast up waiting for his load.
He cums on you, letting out loud grunts of pleasure as he does. His milky white seed shoots some on your breast, your mouth, but most on your face. He smiles at how beautiful you look covered in him. You play with it a little for the camera before he stops recording.
You both relax on the bed and pant, relaxing. König looks over to you and gestures for you to come snuggle with him. The other two cameras picked up the sweet moment.
◅ ◃ ▹ ▻
The video blows up on both of your pages. Fans ecstatic to see you get dominated by König’s monster cock finally. The chemistry you both had radiating through the camera adding to the passion. People requesting more and starting to ship the two of you.
You have 5 more days in Austria and König is excited to spend those few days with you. He’s at home, late at night, watching the clips of him snuggling you after sex. A small smile on his face as he watches it over and over. He didn’t want to, but he caught feelings. He wonders if you feel the same.
#konig#konig x reader#konig x y/n#könig#konig cod#könig x reader#konig smut#könig smut#könig cod#könig mw2#konig x reader smut#konig x you#könig call of duty#könig x y/n#könig x you#smut#konig call of duty#cod smut
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the interview.
pairings: charles leclerc x fem!interviewer!reader.
warnings: none.
in which the internet notices a certain formula one driver in your instagram likes.
yourusername 📍 new york city
liked by zendaya, charles_leclerc, and 274,681 others
yourusername still in shock rn. nyc is beautiful and interviewing the cast of challengers was such a huge moment 🫶🏻 amazing cast and brilliant movie!
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zendaya you’re literally the sweetest 💗 thank you for the interview! such a fun time!
yourusername stop, i am such a fangirl.
user3 girl you always have so much chemistry with the celebrities you interview
user12 deadass 😭 she had both of those boys blushing and down badddd
user36 i NEED to see this movie rn
yourusername you do!! it’s wonderful
user63 any f1 fans here? did yall see charles in the likes?? 👀
user7 omg glad someone else noticed that! i wonder if she’s going to interview some drivers
user4 yesss, do they know each other?
user63 no i don’t think so, he doesn’t follow her, maybe he has a crush 😙😂
yourusername uploaded a story
charles_leclerc miami, hopefully. 🙃
yourusername 📍 miami
liked by charles_leclerc, f1, and 481,622 others
yourusername i’m out here in miami… 🌴
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user42 iconic caption, you’re iconic
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charles_leclerc i was right, what’s my prize?
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user7 CHARLES?? WHAT? WHAT DOES THIS MEAN?
user63 huh??? oh my??
f1 excited for this week…😍👀
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user7 y/n l/n in her f1 era?? is she going to do the driver interviews for the miami gp?
user12 i hope so, she’s amazing
user92 miami?? charles in the likes?? charles is in miami?? the miami gp is coming up?? is this a hint y/n??
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yourusername
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yourusername loving miami and the atmosphere. the first round of interviews with the @.f1 drivers is out now, i hope you guys enjoy because i definitely did, such wonderful and inspiring people! see you guys tomorrow 👀🙏
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f1 thank you! you are incredible and we’re honoured to have you joining us this week!
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mclaren 🧡 thanks for interviewing us
user12 ferrari boys next?!
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maxverstappen1 ❤️👍
lewishamilton it was nice to meet you! 😊
user54 gorgeous as always
lance_stroll ☺️ thank you for the wonderful interview
pierregasly alpine next?
yourusername of course 😗
charles_leclerc i’m ready for my interview y/n
yourusername only if you bring me some lec icecream ngl..
charles_leclerc deal. what flavour?
user7 I AM GOING INSANE WTH IS THIS!!
user63 get a room fr
joaofelix79 when are you going to interview me?!😯
yourusername omg i’d be honoured. name the time and place, i’ll be there 🏃🏼♀️⚽️
yourusername
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yourusername all of the formula one interviews are officially posted on my youtube channel! hope you all love them and got some new and fun information on your favourite drivers! xx 🏎️💋
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user12 the tension in the charles interview?? insanity
user82 she’s better than me i would’ve been folding and on my knees in seconds with the way charles was acting
charles_leclerc going to miss seeing you around, had fun talking with you
yourusername same here 💗
user7 y’all are fucking with me ik you’re going to film more interviews together…right?
user45 ASK HER OUT CHARLES
user9 petition for more interviews with y/n and charles
user12 signing rn!!
user30 SIGNED
f1 hopefully you’ll be working with us again in the future ☺️ thank you for everything!
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yourusername uploaded a story
user19 HELLO?? PLEASE TELL ME THIS IS CHARLES
user12 OH MY 😨 Y/N & CHARLES??
charles_leclerc ofc, i had to see you again.
charles_leclerc
liked by yourusername and 2,582,148 others
charles_leclerc first of many dates
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yourusername wow i guess my interviewing skills are 10/10, so good you had to ask me out
charles_leclerc 🙄🙄 i guess
user82 SUCH A CUTE COUPLE
user12 she’s stunning!
liked by charles_leclerc
user9 i knew he wanted her
oscarpiastri ❤️ cute
#user12 is always a supporter idk y#also shameless challengers self insert i can’t wait to watch it#x reader#fanfic#fanfiction#f1 x reader#formula one smau#formula one x reader#f1 smau#f1 imagine#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc smau#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc
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[1] new notification!
msby!atsumu x reader || w/c: 1.9k
ft. questionable methods of contacting the paparazzi.
[<- read intro][ch 2->]
Atsumu’s last elementary school report card— faithfully stored by his mother in a sturdy carton in her closet, along with her other important documents— has near perfect grades, and only one comment from his teacher.
Atsumu chooses to deal with matters, both academic and personal, in an independent and determined manner.
By the time middle school was over, Atsumu hadn’t changed; but the comment sure had.
Atsumu prefers not to ask for assistance even if he is having trouble with his work. I would like to see him asking for help or clarification when required.
Then in highschool, he’d learned how to bite back his pride enough to earn an approving ‘Atsumu is an active participant in his learning’ by the end of his third year.
And now look at him, asking strangers online for help without a second thought. Old Mrs. Yamada from Yako Middle School would be so proud.
Atsumu wonders how she’s doing. He idly types her name into the search bar, and immediately finds an obituary.
He blinks at the pixelated picture of her sweet, smiling, deceased face; and tries to decide if he should take this as a portent regarding the consequences of asking for help, or as a reminder of the relentless march of time.
Time, which you and Osamu were spending together at this very moment.
Atsumu has to resist the urge to bang his head against one of the lockers.
He tries his best not to think about it; but it’s early afternoon, he’s done with practice, the last one in the locker room, and unfortunately, has far too much time to not only think about it, but vividly picture it too. It’s like a goddamn movie in his mind, complete with subtitles.
(They’re hard coded in; because of course, he’s third wheeling so hard in this scenario, he had to resort to watching said movie on the shadiest of websites, battling the pop up ads telling him about the hot singles in his area— just to rub salt in the wound.)
It went like this: you and Osamu are baking a cake together. You tell Osamu he’s got flour on his face, giggling for some reason, and he asks where. So you point to your nose, and he smears some on your face with a grin. Barf.
Oh Osamu, you’re so much more fun than Atsumu, you say, all doe-eyed. Your subtitles are pink. The sweetest thing I’m allowed to make him is sugarless raisin bran cookies.
Yer damn right about that, Osamu replies (looking right at the camera, deadpan), Let’s get married just so we can not invite him to the wedding.
Okay, maybe Osamu wouldn’t go that far.
And maybe it wasn’t fair to hold the raisin bran cookies against you like that. He really did think they were chocolate chip; but in hindsight, it wouldn’t make much sense for his nutritionist to be giving those to him when he was supposed to be on a high-protein diet.
(Sue him, he thought you had enough of a soft spot for him to sneak him a treat.)
Atsumu sighs, and unlocks his phone again to pull up the post from last night. There are a few more replies— some calling it a fake story, a few asking for an update, and one person inexplicably telling him to go no contact with his brother.
Ridiculous. The whole idea was ridiculous; and surely msbygirlie (bless her) would eventually see through his half-assed attempt at disguising who he was.
His index finger hovers over the delete button.
And then his eyes land on that reply he’s been thinking about since last night.
well you don't have to talk to either of them... you said someone took the original photo. maybe they're still stalking?? ask them what they think?
It was insane. He’d be adding fuel to a fire that was dying down. It would drive the publicist crazy.
He wants to do it.
(Fuck, he’s going to do it.)
Atsumu Miya’s Guide to Finding and Trapping Your Local Paparazzi
Set a live trap in the location you expect your target to be.
“Shoyo,” Atsumu calls out, as he spots his wing spiker near the gymnasium exit, “ya free right now?”
Hinata comes to a halt with a little hop, somehow still full of energy despite the full training session. “More or less. Why?”
Why? Because Sakusa would scoff and walk away, stopping only to report his plan to Meian; and because Bokuto would accidentally blab and give him up, probably during a livestream. (She reprimanded them a lot, but really, it was him and Bokuto keeping the publicist employed.)
“I need yer help catching a pest. Want to take a walk with me?”
2. Bait the trap.
Atsumu stops abruptly at the crossroads. He snaps his head toward the convex mirror on the corner just in time to see a nondescript man, with a baseball cap pulled low over his face, ducking into the small general store just behind them. It’s quick— the doors are already propped open since it’s not quite warm enough to justify running the air conditioning.
Perfect.
Hinata nudges his elbow. “Why did we stop? Do you want something to drink?”
Atsumu takes a deep breath. “Do ya trust me, Shoyo?”
He looks perplexed at the question. It’s not an expression that’s often on Hinata’s face, so Atsumu takes a moment to appreciate the novelty.
Of course, it’s gone in a second; replaced with his natural enthusiasm. “Oh, did you want to practice at the park? I see, you wanted to bring me to a different environment because our rapport on the court was—”
Atsumu claps his hands over Hinata’s shoulders, lowering his voice. “If ya trust me, do exactly as I say. Go to the park. Got it? Do not follow me. Go straight to the park.”
“Aren’t you coming with—”
Atsumu fills his lungs with air, and firmly plants his feet on the ground.
(A quick glance in the mirror at the man with the baseball cap. Still there. Good.)
Forgive me, Shoyo.
“GOOD LUCK ON THE DATE!” he says as loudly as he can, before it's shouting.
Hinata goes red, sputtering. “Huh? Date?”
Atsumu claps his shoulders again, and gives him a subtle push. Hinata, still wide-eyed, stumbles along in the direction of the park, glancing back over his shoulder a few times.
3. Wait.
Atsumu jogs the long way around the block to get to the park.
It only takes five minutes of lurking behind a row of vending machines, and feeling a little sorry for Hinata who’s sort of nervously wringing his hands on a bench— he's the only other person in the park at this time on a school day— before the man in the baseball cap shows up.
A camera is slung casually around his neck. The recording light is taped over. He’s so fixated on Hinata, he doesn’t notice Atsumu as he saunters up the path towards the machines.
(Which, all things considered, was quite surprising— Atsumu is not a small man.)
“Hey,” Atsumu says, once Baseball Cap is close enough. “Long time, huh? Two things. One, give me your camera. I know it's recording. And two, I have a few questions.”
4. Dispose of your paparazzi responsibly and ethically.
Fifteen minutes later, Atsumu is no closer to the truth; and is considerably more irritated.
“What am I supposed ta do with that?”
“Is he going to hit me?” Baseball Cap anxiously asks Hinata, “Can you hold my camera if he’s going to hit me?”
“Atsumu wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Hinata assures him.
“I ain’t gonna hit ya, ya scrub! Don’t you go writin’ that up on yer damn blog next.” He pinches his nose, trying to calm himself. “I’m done with ya, go home. But wipe the memory card in front of me first.”
r/relationship_advice • 1 hour ago
u/fattytuna95
UPDATE: I want to ask out my twin brother's girlfriend.
I didn’t want to come back here again, but I don’t know what to do.
Like one of you suggested, I asked the guy who took the picture. You were right. He's been following them.
(Creepy as hell, to be honest, but he didn't seem like a bad dude. And he was pretty skinny. Guess being a privacy invading douche doesn't pay well. I think even my female colleague could take him down if she tried, so that's fine.)
What he told me is this: she stayed overnight at his place twice this week.
Now I know what you're thinking. It's a lost cause. Pack it up and move along. Right?
No.
Here's the thing— I was worried my brother was developing feelings for her, and I still am, but if they were already sleeping together he would have told me. There's something else going on here. I mean on top of the fake dating bullshit.
And for some reason, they're not telling me.
How do I find out what without telling them how I know?
↑ 65 ↓ •••
u/unicornpoodle • 4 minutes ago
wowww
dude, are you sure you want to keep going through with this? There's a lot of things you can unsee but walking in on your brother fucking your crush is probably not one of them...
(and you're a twin to boot! You'd see exactly what could've been. Now that'll mess you up!)
↑ 15 ↓ •••
u/fattytuna95 • 4 minutes ago
Shut up!!! I don't want to think about that!!!!!!
↑ 10 ↓ •••
u/guiltyassassin_ • 10 minutes ago
lol I was lowkey joking about asking the guy, didn't think you'd actually do it. good for you. but uh, I might be with poodle on this one. you don't want it to be true, sure. but maybe they just didn't tell you? so it wouldn't be awkward at work?
↑ 12 ↓ •••
u/fattytuna95 • 9 minutes ago
I shared a womb with the guy. I'm sure. You're an only child, aren't you?
↑ 12 ↓ •••
u/msbygirlie_13 • 5 minutes ago
This is exciting!! I don't agree with everyone else, I think you should get to the bottom of it!!! Like atsumu said in his volleyball monhtly interview in june '21, the game isn't over until the ball falls to the floor!!!!! the ball is NOT on the floor yet!
maybe you should go over to your brother's apartment and see if there's any evidence.and you should just show up. don't give him any time to clean it. you can do that right???
↑ 12 ↓ •••
u/fattytuna95 • 5 minutes ago
Hmm that could work actually. I've been there so much, I'll definitely notice if something's out of place.
↑ 10 ↓ •••
u/unicornpoodle • 3 minutes ago
are you saying this because you believe in it, or because you want more update posts? this shit is going to be hilarious
↑ 5 ↓ •••
u/msbygirlie_13 • just now
ofc I believe in everything atsumu says, omg!!! he's the best, fattytuna will agree with me.
↑ 1 ↓ •••
Osamu frowns at the cloudy night sky as he pulls the shutters down over Onigiri Miya's window. The moon is hidden, only a hazy hint behind the grey.
"Looks like rain," he comments, glancing over his shoulder. "Sorry I kept ya waitin'. We should've just done it another night."
Behind him, standing under the streetlight, you can already feel the tiny droplets drizzling on your face. But you shake your head. "I can just stay over again. We always end up losing track of time, and your place is closer to work than mine anyway."
The lock in Osamu's hand clatters against the corrugated metal. "Want ta move in and really sell it?"
You roll your eyes. "I would, but we're not a good match. We'd feed each other too much and end up gaining so much weight."
He chuckles. "Hey, at least I can appreciate raisin bran cookies. Ya won't catch me spittin' food outta my mouth."
You laugh at that. It wasn't his fault, you want to say, smiling fondly at the memory. He didn't realise I was joking about it being chocolate chip.
"Hey, Osamu?"
"Yeah?"
"Should we just tell him?"
now what could they be up to?
[my other fics->]
please leave a like/reblog/reply/send me an ask if you enjoyed! <3
divider @/cafekitsune
#atsumu miya x reader#miya atsumu x reader#atsumu x reader#haikyuu x reader#miya atsumu fluff#my fic
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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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I was already onboard with bisexual Alya to begin with, but what really cinched it for me was Tikki choosing her as Marinette’s replacement for the ladybug miraculous during Transmission. Because if there’s one thing that this show has been pushing since day one, it’s that Marinette and Adrien are made for each other. Fu mentions it while congratulating himself on choosing the right holders at the end of Stone Heart, Jessica and Aeon talk about it after spending ten minutes around them in the New York special, and Tikki comments on how they draw their strength from it when Plagg tells her they need to find new holders.
And see, I’ve got this idea in my head. Just from watching the way that Tikki and Plagg have thrown out certain comments throughout the series to encourage Marinette to keeping thinking about Adrien, or let Adrien know that “Hey, you’re acting kind of weird about someone you consider ‘just a friend.’” I’ve started to wonder if maybe the ladybug and cat miraculous actually do draw power from their holders’ feelings towards each other. Literally. What if every holder of these two miraculous have actually had some degree of chemistry with one another, and for whatever strange reason, the kwamis are able to sense it, and use it to enhance their powers. Joan of Arc and the Dark Grimalkin were just the only two who actually got together before setting aside their mission, thus Tikki wasn’t obligated to mention them when Marinette asked in Reunion.
This would mean that when Tikki chose Alya, Plagg had to use this mysterious sixth sense to find someone who would be absolutely perfect for Alya. But as we all know, Nino is incapable of keeping a secret identity to himself to save his life, so. . .
What I’m getting at is that Plagg and Zoe were about to fuck up Nino’s whole relationship and he should be grateful Hawkmoth invaded the school when he did.
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How do you think things would play out if insecure human Tav had feelings for Dammon, but she mistakenly thought he was hitting on Karlach all those times he helped her with her heart? With Tav being oblivious and mistakes that it’s because she is human and that Karlach is a tiefling that he has no interest in her, but in reality he does. How do you think Dammon would respond if there’s a little comment like: “I know it’s Karlach you were hoping to see.”
I'm not sure if I leaned too into the insecure descriptor in the prompt, especially after not doing any writing for so long, but I hope everyone's able to enjoy. I missed my main man so much <3
She isn't you
"I know it's Karlach you were hoping to see."
You can see the whites of Dammons as soon as the sentence leaves your mouth, shock washing over him. It's something you'd tiptoed around for months. The way Dammon looks at Karlach, how he gravitates towards her, how that kills you inside. No one could blame you for falling for the sweet blacksmith with his easy smile and firm confidence.
He'd spent these past months giving your companion the gift of touch back, laughing at her raunchy remarks and looking at her like she'd hung the moon and stars. Hours were spent in his forge fixing her heart, idle chatter between the three of you the only real entertainment. Hours of inadvertently third wheeling them all because of your own unrequited crush. Karlach was your friend though, and if they were happy then you weren't going to interfere.
His lips part slowly. Beautiful, chapped lips you so desperately want to kiss but know you never will. Soon, Dammon finds his voice again. He seems so genuinely confused, as if he can't understand where you got that idea.
"Why would I want Karlach when you're here?"
A long tail flicks behind him, nearly taking out a table leg. A concerned look covers the blacksmiths face as he leans in, hands spreading over his workbench. "Not that Karlach isn't lovely, she is, but I'd prefer to have you here." Dammon clarifies carefully.
It's your own turn to gawk now, looking at the teifling standing there in the firelight. You'd never expected this, to have him so quickly disagree with something you were so certain of. "But... Aren't you and Karlach..." You trail off, unsure of how to word things, picking at your nails.
"Aren't we... what? Seeing each other?" Dammon asks, rounding his work bench with a small chuckle, the wooden floor creaking under steady steps. "Is that assumption what's held you back?" His calloused hand takes yours, smoothing a thumb over your skin as the tiefling draws in your gaze. Blue eyes crinkle at the corners with a small grin, a teasing smile appearing on the blacksmiths face.
"Well, isn't it true?" You gape, gripping his hand. The new brazenness draws a full laugh from the tiefling, topped off with a shake of his head. It's a dumbfounding revelation, after months of near torture watching the two of them only to find out none of your assumptions were true. "Stop laughing, I'm being serious-" You insist, a small frown growing on your face.
Dammon calms himself, still grinning down at your pout. "I know, and I'm sorry." His voice is lower now, missing that teasing lilt you love so much. "There's nothing happening between Karlach and I, promise. I did ask her for some advice, though." He adds, gently squeezing the hand enveloped in his.
You cock your head, wondering whatever advice he could've gotten from Karlach. Something to do with Avernus or leaving the hells? Something tiefling related? The visible confusion almost makes Dammon laugh again, but he contains himself. Instead, a firm tail snakes it's way around your leg, winding around you with a firm pressure.
"I wanted to know how best to ask one of her friends out."
#naming this was the absolute hardest#i just gave up and kept its draft name#bri answers#baldurs gate 3#bg3#baldurs gate 3 x reader#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3 dammon#bg3 dammon#dammon x reader#bg3 dammon x reader
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THE BEST THING THAT'S EVER BEEN MINE | Sebastian Vettel
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sebastian vettel x race engineer gf!oc
summary: seb has lots of surprises for di because it is a very special day. however, di is so insecure about herself that she just thinks seb wants to break up with her.
word count: 7682
warnings: none! maybe just curse words, possible history series "spoilers" (however, at the beginning of the series you know they and up together, so...). lots of mentions to taylor swift. spanish words 100% real (as i’m spanish!) narrated on di's pov.
you can send your one shots requests here!
feedback, as well as reblogs and comments, are truly appreciated!
I slowly opened my eyes and, still lying down, I began to stretch, moving from side to side. I reached out my hand towards the side of the bed where I supposed my boyfriend would still be, but all I felt was the cold of the morning seeping into every pore of my skin.
I sat up, fully opened my eyes and realized the guy wasn't there. Not there, nor anywhere in the room, not even in the bathroom despite its door being open.
A loud noise coming from downstairs and the smell of coffee were what set off the alarms. I decided to put on my slippers, throw on my robe and go down the stairs slowly, trying not to make noise and disturb Seb in whatever he might be doing.
I entered the kitchen and saw the blond guy with his back turned, holding the handle of a pan in one hand and a spatula in the other. Next to him, on the counter, was a plate with a couple of waffles, a bottle of ketchup, and a couple of jars with coffee and juice.
I knew Sebastian Vettel was romantic, but I also knew he liked to sleep like a log, so this could only mean that either I was dreaming or the RedBull golden boy wanted something from me.
That he wanted to do something nice for his girlfriend was the last thing on my mind.
I decided to approach him and hug him from behind, not even flinching at my unexpected contact. Without stopping paying attention to the scrambled eggs, almost ready, the German turned around and gave me a short kiss on the lips.
"Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Did you sleep well?" he asked.
I just nodded with a murmur.
"If you let me, I can finish preparing breakfast," he asked, trying to push me away. "I've been awake for an hour and a half to make everything perfect so please, don't make me ruin it now."
"Whatever you say, Mr. Vettel."
I sat on one of the stools at the kitchen island and let myself fall onto it, not without noticing the bouquet of flowers in the center. Orchids and roses were mostly what it was made up of, although I could also spot a few daffodils. I realized that what held them all together was a cord with a small label with something written on it. Tempted, I was about to open it, but I ended up not doing it because I was convinced it would be some gift for Sebastian that was none of my business.
"Do you like it?"
The guy put a plate in front of me which, for what he usually did, was a masterpiece. A waffle covered with fruit on top and, beside it, scrambled eggs and some small containers with ketchup, whipped cream, white chocolate and dark chocolate.
I was mesmerized, not knowing what to say to him. It was the breakfast my mother used to make me on weekends and on some special occasions, like my birthday. I would even swear that the containers with the sauces on them were exactly the same. My gaze was fixed on the plate, unable to look away from it. It was quite strange that Seb knew about this because, beyond my sister and my late father, no one else got idea about this tradition.
"Di, love, are you listening?" he insisted, pulling me out of my trance.
"What?" I asked, completely distracted.
"The bouquet of flowers," Seb replied, pointing to the vase. "Although I also accept feedback on the breakfast."
"Let me taste it. You know you're not the chef of our wonderful couple."
Sebastian nodded, took a seat in front of me and patiently waited for my final verdict. I took my time to slowly taste everything even though I wanted to devour it eagerly. I made all sorts of combinations: chocolate with whipped cream and waffle, ketchup with scrambled eggs, and I even dared to mix chocolate and cream with eggs just to cough, give myself nausea, and provoke laughter from my boyfriend.
I drank some coffee to get rid of the bad taste that had lingered in my mouth while I couldn't stop thinking about how on earth he could know my mother's exact recipe.
"So, what's the verdict? Pass?"
I lifted my head to look at him and smiled. Not just approved: it was such a masterpiece.
"Definitely, sunshine. I mean, not just the breakfast, don't get me wrong," I hastened to add. "All of this is wonderful," I pointed to the breakfast and to him, "but..."
But I’m starting to have the strange feeling like there's something behind all of this.
"But what, sweetheart?"
That you're doing this because you want us to break up.
"Nothing," I rushed to reply, dismissing the fleeting thought that had just crossed my mind.
I knew Seb wasn’t pleased with my answer, but it seemed to be enough for him.
I continued having breakfast, and soon he joined me with a protein shake and an apple. I couldn't help but feel bad eating such a feast in front of him.
"And how do you like the bouquet?" he asked.
"It's very beautiful," I replied, covering my mouth so he wouldn't see it full. "Whoever gave it to you has a very good taste."
"Are you saying I have good taste?"
"What? Did you buy them?" I asked again.
"Of course. Who do you think would give me flowers?"
"I don't know," I said honestly. "Any of the girls who chase you around the paddock, for example."
"Di: the bouquet is for you," he announced nervously.
I remained, once again today, in shock. Seb had left me speechless on many occasions, but today was simply too much.
I looked at the bouquet, looked at him, and looked back at the bouquet. His index finger pointed at the note. If I had noticed earlier, just as I was doing now, I could have seen, even if only vaguely, that it was his handwriting.
"Read the note, love."
Following his advice, I delicately took the card in my hands, trying not to break it and carefully untied the cord. When I opened it I could see that, in addition to something written in German, our mother tongue, it was accompanied by his signature, a poorly drawn heart and, of course, one of the happy faces he almost always used:
You told me I wouldn't have many firsts with you, but look: today is the first time I’ll give you flowers. I assure you there will be many more, my dearest paddock girl (although now I prefer calling you my beautiful girlfriend and, of course, my dearest race engineer).
My eyes filled with tears. Without thinking I turned around the kitchen island, running towards Seb, who was still sitting, and I threw myself at him to kiss him. I felt his arms wrap around my waist and his hands running down my back to my neck, pulling me closer without breaking our union.
We parted, breathless, a few seconds later, when we felt like we were running out of air. Our foreheads stayed together, and our gazes couldn't be torn away from each other's. A playful smile formed on Sebastian's lips, and I knew what he was thinking.
"Don't get so affectionate, Di. We have a lot to do today."
I pulled away from him and crossed my arms. He hadn't mentioned anything about that last night, not even when he convinced me to come spend a few days with him, knowing perfectly well that I couldn't just leave my job at the café during winter breaks like that.
"Well, you'll have to tell me what then."
He put his hands in his back pocket and pulled out a piece of paper that he didn't hesitate to offer me.
"I made a list because I didn't want to forget anything, You know I’m a mess," he explained as I quickly glanced over what it said.
Try to find the album Lara wants, but the limited edition version.
It made sense. Seb's sister was as obsessed with One Direction as I was with Taylor Swift.
Buy a notebook (mom told me it's good so I don't forget things).
I didn't continue reading because the rest seemed to be a shopping list that wasn't very important. I left it on the table, trying not to get it dirty with breakfast leftovers, and picked up the dishes, ready to wash them.
Seb quickly came over to me, taking them out of my hands and depositing them all in the sink. Without saying anything else, he came closer and gave me a quick peck on the lips followed by a loving slap on the butt.
"No, today my woman is not going to do anything, so you better go upstairs and check if there's anything on the bed."
Following his advice full of intrigue, I hurried upstairs to the bedroom and looked for whatever my boyfriend was eager for me to see. It was quite easy to find as the fluorescent pink color of the post-it note that was where my boyfriend had told me to look contrasted greatly with the snow-white sheets. Look at the white box in the closet, it was the only thing written, accompanied once again by another one of his smiley doodles.
I contained myself from opening the box in the closet. I carefully placed it on the bed and opened it in the same cautious manner just in case there was something unexpected. And indeed there was: to my surprise, I found the dress I had been wanting for so long.
I took it in my hands, stretching it over me as much as I could and letting the softness of the fabric envelop my fingers. It was even more beautiful than what I had seen in that shop showcase, and I didn't know how Seb had managed to get it because when I went to inquire about buying it, I was told it was sold out.
I could see that there was something deliberately hidden under the tulle that wrapped it. Carefully, I placed the garment on the bed and saw that it was the set of lingerie in black and green tones with floral details that I fell in love with the one time Britta and I went to Victoria's Secret out of curiosity.
It was more than obvious what the blond wanted me, us, to do, with this.
"Seb! Was all of this your idea!?"
I waited for an answer that never came. I shouted at him again, this time even louder, but once again silence was the only thing that answered for him.
I decided not to wait for an answer that I knew wouldn't come, so I hurried to dress in my new outfit, also changing my underwear and shoes to ones that would match my new outfit better.
When I arrived downstairs I could see Seb already waiting for me at the door leading to the garage with his car keys on his hand.
"It looks much better on you than I thought," he said, lost in thought. "You look like a real life Cinderella version, but a thousand times prettier."
I didn't know what to say to him because I didn’t know how to answer every time I received a compliment from him. I thought that when we started dating I would get used to Seb constantly complimenting me, but two months later it still hadn't been the case.
I smiled shyly and lowered my head. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders and led us towards his car.
"Did you like... that?"
"What do you mean by that, love?"
He knew perfectly well what he meant, same as me, but I wanted to play with him just as he seemed to be playing with me with so much mystery.
"You know..." he began, hesitating. "What, if I'm not mistaken, you're wearing underneath the dress."
"Oh, the bra and panties!" I exclaimed as I got into the passenger seat and fastened my seatbelt. "They’re perfect, Seb."
We remained silent for the first few minutes of the journey with only the daily news from one of the local radio stations playing in the background.
"Di," he called me again, shifting his gaze slightly towards me. I hated it when he did that. "Did you really like the lingerie set or was it too risky? I don't want our first Saint..."
After saying that last part, he chose to quickly shut up.
I hated it when he did that, especially when the thought that he was behaving like that because he wanted to break up with me had started to creep into my head.
"Seb, seriously, I loved it," I assured him, trying to keep calm and, at the same time, make him keep it too. "Britta, more than having good taste, has a good memory," I added.
"Who says Britta helped me?"
"It's too much of a coincidence that last month, when we met and went into Victoria's Secret out of curiosity, I complained about how expensive this was," I explained, pulling a strip of my bra out of the neckline of the dress to show him, "and how much I'd love to have it. And, today, you show up with the dress I'd been saving up for more than I'd have liked.”
Seb smiled sideways. It was more than obvious that he was the one behind all of this.
"Maybe I should talk to my PR about more mundane things than press conferences and stupid rumors," he confirmed.
"If you want, only if you want... I can show it to you later."
Thankfully, the traffic light was red. His face quickly turned towards where I was, turning his gaze back to the road because that's what I made him do with my hand. The light turned green again, and he continued driving.
His cheeks had turned a shade of red that I rarely saw on him. I wasn't going to deny that I didn't like seeing him like that.
"Easy, Di. We've waited three years to be together. I think we can wait a little longer to do you know what."
A few minutes later we parked in one of the farthest parking lots from the mall. As he usually did, Seb got out before me to open the door for me, which I thanked him for despite being dying of nerves.
"Well, what do we have to do?"
I started walking next to him, picking up my pace and taking his hand. I let go of the union immediately, and he gave me a look of pity. Except for some exceptions of our trusted people no one knew, for now, that we were dating, and we didn't intend to make it public for now.
He gave me a look of pity that pierced me like a dagger in the chest, and that only increased the thought that we were living our last hours together.
"I thought we'd go to the music store first," he commented, avoiding what had just happened. "Then I want to go to a stationery store that has opened and that I know that you’d... well, it has a lot of office supplies that you’d like," he finally said. "And I also want to go buy several things for our house in case we have special guests coming up."
I didn't want to ask more to avoid unwanted answers. I assumed that Hanna was one of those unexpected and special guests, but I couldn't, for now, face hearing him say that.
The first stop, as Seb had said, was the music store. As we entered a combination of violins and pianos made me relax almost instantly. A section of vinyl records right as we walked in caught his attention, especially because the majority of them were from his favorite band, the Beatles.
"You have no idea how long I've been looking for this," he began, taking one of them in his hands and analyzing it in detail, "but today we didn't come for this."
He let it go and headed to another section that seemed much more youthful. I stopped to look at the price of the vinyl version of Abbey Road, and I decided to take a picture of it to know exactly which one it was and if I could get it cheaper because the few savings I had were spent to come see him.
"Di, look! Do you like it?"
I spotted him a few feet away from me holding a stack of records. I decided to approach him to see what titles were there. Speak now, by Taylor Swift, was the one that caught my attention the most to the point that I let out a muffled scream of excitement.
"Do you like any?"
I knew he had noticed my reaction, but I acted as if nothing had happened. I continued browsing through the ones he had seemed to pick out, but besides the one by the American singer and Rihanna, none of them interested me.
Actually not, sunshine," I lied.
Sebastian raised an eyebrow, knowing perfectly well that my previous behavior contradicted my response. He repeated the question, and I denied it again.
"Seb, really, I didn't like any of them," I insisted.
"If you say so... then, let's go. I didn't find the CD my sister wanted, so everything's done here."
"But isn't this the one you were looking for?"
I discreetly pointed out the limited edition of One Direction’s Up all night behind him that I had seen as soon as we arrived. I noticed him starting to feel uncomfortable. A nervous smile came out of his lips, biting his lower one while playing with his hair.
He was nervous, and I was starting to get even more nervous when I saw him like that. I would swear that if it weren't for the fact that we were in public, I would have panicked.
I tried to laugh it off to calm myself, but I stopped as soon as he took my arm and quickly led me to the store's exit.
"Hey you, calm down," I said once we were outside. "What's going on with you? Now you're in such a hurry?"
"Well," he looked at his watch and I imitated his action. Twelve fifteen. Great, almost lunchtime and we had only partially accomplished the first goal on the list. "I just remembered that my sister already had it."
"And why did we come then?"
He said nothing. His gaze landed on the ground and on his feet, fidgeting. That was another clear sign that he was lying to me.
"Seb, you know if you have something to tell me..."
"Stay here for a second. I'll be right back."
He didn't give me time to react because I saw him disappear again into the store. I was filled with curiosit.; I peeked several times through the shop window to see what he was up to and hid each time he seemed to see me. A few minutes later he came out of the store with a paper bag in his hands. I ran towards him to try to see what was in it, but as soon as I peeked to see the content, he changed hands.
"I'm not going to tell you anything for now," he said mysteriously. "You'll see it when the time is right."
"Come on, Seb..."
The pout I made to try to get him to reveal something, even if it was a miserable clue, was in vain both at that moment and in the following hours.
As we went through the stores Seb wanted to see, I realized that he seemed to have established some kind of routine. We entered together, wherever it was, under the excuse of buying something that appeared on Sebastian's list. Once we were inside my boyfriend only took a quick look around, asked me if I liked or needed anything, and then we left. Every time he asked me something, I answered with a firm no, but he ended up going back in, asking me to wait outside, and coming out with a bag.
It was more than clear that he was plotting something, and I had the feeling that it wasn't anything good. I tried to find the background of it all, analyzing every detail because even when we went to eat at one of my favorite restaurants, I couldn't think of anything else.
Vettel ate eagerly, enjoying something other than vegetables and grilled chicken. I, however, toyed with the plate of carbonara pasta in front of me while I couldn't stop thinking that all of this was the imminent end of our short love story.
Was Seb buying things for Hanna, and he didn't want to tell me?
"Di, what's wrong? You've been too quiet for a while."
I noticed the concern in his eyes. I smiled to avoid raising suspicions, but the truth was that all I wanted to do was cry.
"No, it’s ok. I'm just thinking about the day we’re having," I replied shortly, still staring at my food.
"You're acting very strangely, love. Are you sure you're okay?"
His insistence made me want to spill everything, but my judgment urged me to proceed with caution to avoid risking our relationship even more.
He set down his cutlery and reached across the table to take my hands. He cared much less than I did about who might see us, but I felt a twinge of anxiety. Surprisingly, that simple gesture calmed me a bit.
"Yes, really," I insisted, now looking at him. "I'm trying not to get nervous about whatever you seem to be planning for you know who."
My smile was too forced, and so was his. I knew my response didn't convince him, but it didn't convince me either.
And what about his expression? Nothing more needed to be said when I saw how he avoided looking at me and how his lips seemed to downturn.
"What do you think if we go to the movies after we finish eating? I know there's a movie you'd like to see."
"I don't know, Seb. Do you want to go to the movies with me because you feel like it or because you're trying to distract me from whatever you're hiding?"
My tone was more serious than I wanted it to be. I glanced at his face and knew that it had upset him.
I felt worse, constantly thinking that all this fuss was nothing more than a silly excuse for him to take me to accompany him to buy gifts for his new girlfriend, who happened to be his ex-girlfriend, and he was going to break up with me as soon as he could.
"Di, really, I just want to have a good time with you," he assured, knowing deep down that it was quite difficult.
"And why all this fuss? Why so much insistence that I come, specifically yesterday, to spend a few days with you? What are you hiding?" I asked, with pain in my words.
"I'm not hiding anything, darling, and I'm telling you completely seriously," my boyfriend sighed, trying to find the right words. "I just want today to be a special day for us. Why did I bring you then to a place where you like to eat? And to the movies? I know how much you like the cinema, just like I know you love Taylor..."
"What's with Taylor?" I asked, interested in what I assumed would be a mention of the blonde singer. "Swift, I guess," I added.
"What movie do you say you want to see?" he countered.
In the end, he chose it because I didn't feel like sitting for at least an hour and a half, staring at a screen. A Few Best Men was the chosen one, and even though it was one that he definitely wouldn't watch, he did it for me, just like he did when he paid for the tickets almost without giving me a chance to do it.
Once we were inside the movie theater, he directed me to the section with a large selection of candy and snacks and urged me to choose whatever I wanted.
"It's enough that you paid for everything today," I said shyly. "Lunch, the tickets, whatever you bought in the stores..."
For Hanna, not for you, I thought, trying to push that thought away as quickly as it came to my mind.
But Sebastian, as stubborn as he was, didn't accept my refusal.
"Come on, Di. Choosing food you crave is part of the routine of going to the movies," he said, as if we went to the movies daily. "I mean it, love. Choose whatever you want."
"I'm not hungry."
The blonde didn't say anything else. He simply approached where all the snacks were and started choosing for me.
"So, for my Di, let's get popcorn now," he began listing out loud. “Let's also get her a bag of licorice and another one of M&M's to mix with the popcorn..."
"And what about you, Vettel?" I asked curiously while trying not to laugh at how well he knew me.
"The usual: sweet popcorn and nachos with cheese."
Seb took the wide and, perhaps, not so varied selection to the counter to pay for everything. I tried to convince him to let me do it, but it was impossible once again, just like carrying all the goods to the theater. Some popcorn fell along the way, and we spilled so much soda on the floor that we were scolded.
The ads were already showing when we entered. With everything dark except for the light emanating from the screen, we took care not to fall as we made our way to our seats, which were in one of the corners of the highest row.
Seb sat next to me, and what I thought would turn into a session of incognito kisses turned into a whisper warning me that he was going to the bathroom.
"I won't take long, I promise," he assured me.
"Sure, go ahead."
Since I saw him get up and disappear from the room I couldn't concentrate on anything other than his departure, especially when I saw that minutes were passing by and he didn't return. During the first fifteen minutes, I tried my best to focus on the movie, but it was impossible for me no matter how much I tried to get interested. About half an hour later, I was already thinking about infidelity, unexpected encounters, and even, why not, that he had left me hanging.
Forty-five minutes after he left Sebastian returned, giving me a kiss on the lips that I didn't respond to with the same passion as usual.
"How's the movie darling?" he asked as if nothing had happened.
I took a deep breath before answering him. I didn't want to mess things up even though, perhaps, he deserved it.
"Fine."
"Are you enjoying it? Did I choose well?"
"Yes."
Seb seemed to notice my curt responses, but it's not like I wanted to hide them. He approached me, wrapping his arms around me, from which I escaped. The last thing I wanted in those moments was to have him close.
"Is something wrong, Di? You've been acting strange all day, love."
"Nothing's wrong, Seb. I'm just a little tired," I lied again, avoiding looking directly at him. Was I the one acting strange?
"I was thinking of going out to dinner," he said a bit... sad? "But if you want, we can go back home. Today, I'm completely at your disposal."
"I see," I commented ironically.
The blonde man gently took my hand.
"I was thinking of taking you to a newly opened Spanish restaurant," he whispered. "Would you like that?"
"I would love it," I declared. He had caught me there. Wherever there was Spanish food, everything else could go away. "But you know as well as I do that we shouldn't frequent public places if you want this," I pointed to both of us with my finger, referring to our relationship, "to stay between us and our closest family."
"We had lunch at a restaurant today and nobody saw us," he reproached, raising his voice a bit more than he should. Some people turned to look at us, and I tried to hide.
"Yes, and what time was it, three-thirty in the afternoon? Who the hell eats at that hour, Seb?"
His silence confirmed my point.
"Well," he continued, not letting me enjoy the movie, "then I'm afraid I'll have to change a part of my surprise. You're lucky I'm a Formula 1 driver and fast thinking is my thing," he said, trying to make me laugh and achieving just the opposite.
"Don't we already have a problem?"
"What problem are you talking about, Diana?"
That his tone had gone from relaxed to completely curt, and above all. That he called me by my full name was a bad sign, a very bad one indeed.
"Sorry," he spoke immediately, realizing that he hadn't answered me and that he certainly hadn't spoken in the best way. "It’s just that I’m getting nervous. I'm sorry," he repeated, making me feel a little guilty. "Everything I had planned is just one mess after another, and..."
"It's okay, Seb. Let's go to dinner," I ended up giving in, ignoring what I had just heard and even though hunger was the last thing on my mind at that moment.
Seb kept talking to me about a thousand different topics for the remaining time of the movie, and did the same on the way back to the car and throughout the journey to that restaurant called La Casa. As much as I felt bad because my boyfriend seemed to have lost his spirits, my mind kept playing tricks on me and it was nearly impossible to stop thinking that the bad news was going to come at any moment.
Now, as I waited for Seb to come out with the order, and hopefully with the food already in his hands, my stomach was a bundle of uncontrollable nerves.
"I ordered a little bit of everything," I had seen him coming from afar, but I turned in my seat when he opened the trunk. "I know Spanish food is your favorite because you grew up with it for most of your life," he explained as he placed the bags in the back of the car. I was about to interrupt him, but he asked me to be quiet. "I also ordered some Asian food, which they also had, I don't know why, and I know you love that too."
"But don't you remember anything you ordered?" I inquired with curiosity now that my hunger seemed to have returned.
"Just some croquetas and tortilla de patatas. I don't understand Spanish, my dear," he replied as he got behind the wheel and resumed driving down the road. "When we get to the lookout you'll have to explain everything to me in detail."
As we continued driving towards the place, unease grew in me at the same time. A desire to vomit integrated into my throat, accompanied by cravings that I didn't try to hide. With each turn Seb took, I swore that the little I had eaten that day, which was already more than digested, was going to be thrown up when I least expected it.
Sebastian Vettel, the guy I had been in love with since, possibly, the day he stayed overnight in my hotel room the night before his first victory, was going to break up with me, the girl he considered the love of his life, and for whom he left his ex-girlfriend.
Surreal, right?
The driver parked the car, got out quickly and didn't hesitate to open the trunk. He took out a much larger number of bags than I would swear to remember. Then, he unfolded a blanket and placed it on the ground, putting a couple more on top, I guess so we wouldn't get cold. He also placed some cushions from his house and a paper tableware with children's drawings next to what I would swear was the food he had just bought.
My surprise came when he took out a box much larger than the one this morning. As if it weren't enough that it was closed, it was wrapped in Cars-themed wrapping paper, and to top it off, it had a big red bow on it.
"What's all this about?"
My still boyfriend, with the box in his hand, gave me a bittersweet look, as if I were speaking to him in a language he didn't understand.
"Sebastian, I'm telling you seriously," I got even more serious. I saw he started to laugh, and I got even angrier with him. "Don't laugh, you asshole!"
"What are you talking about, Di?" he asked innocently while I hit him with slaps on the arm.
"About today. All day long," I reluctantly replied, which was the last thing I wanted given his expression, quite a poem. "First, I don't know how, but you get up much earlier than me and make me the exact same breakfast my mom used to make for me," I began to enumerate, trying to control my anger. "Then, you give me a list that we didn't end up using because you did whatever you wanted. And let's not forget that you left me alone in the movie theater to, of course, go anywhere but to the bathroom," I added angrily.
Seb was unable to process an appropriate response, and that's when I realized everything. I tried to control my tears, just as I had done all day long, but I couldn't do it anymore. As soon as my tears began to fall down my face, I saw the pilot leaving the box he was holding on the ground, and coming closer to me to hug me. At first, I resisted, but I gave in when, once again, his arms became my refuge.
"The day I asked you out I told you we were going to have many first times, do you remember?" he said softly. I nodded, remembering how nervous I was all that day. "Don't you want us to celebrate our first Valentine's Day together in a special way?"
Valentine's Day.
Today was February 14th.
It couldn't be true.
I quickly moved away from Seb and looked around. Now everything made sense.
Everything he had been preparing was for me... or at least, that's what I believed.
"What do you mean Valentine's Day?" I blurted out, unable to hide my surprise.
"Well, Valentine's Day, Di. You know: the day when couples, or almost couples, or I don't know, do things for each other, and..."
"So you don't want to break up with me?"
I let it out so quickly, without letting him finish speaking and without thinking. I burst into tears once again. Now I felt much stupider than before, but above all, I felt bad because I had earned the title of the worst girlfriend in the world. Seb had done all this for me, and all I had done was pay him back by speaking badly to him, thinking he was cheating on me and of course, not buying him the vinyl he wanted.
"Break up with you?" I knew that right now he probably wanted to tell me anything but nice things. That he had hugged me again, and, above all, that his voice conveyed calm said a lot about him. "Di, where do you get those ideas from?"
"It's just that..." I inhaled and exhaled before looking up at him. I couldn't speak badly to him again, especially not for something that had been the result of my insecurity. "Everything today made me think you wanted to end it. The breakfast, leaving me stranded at the cinema... I thought you were getting ready to tell me you were getting back with Hanna," I finished saying.
Seb, after hearing that, held me even tighter against his chest.
"Di, I'm so sorry if I made you feel that way," he apologized. "All of this was to do something special for our first Valentine's together, not to ruin it. I know I messed up, and you have no idea how much I regret losing control over certain things because it's the last thing you deserved."
He seemed quite repentant, and that made me feel even worse.
"Do you want to see what's in here?" he said, pointing to the box still on the ground. "I've prepared it for you," he whispered shyly. "I just hope you like it; if not, you can tell me without any problem."
"I haven't bought you anything," was all I could reply.
"It's okay, Di. I prepared all this for you because I wanted to, and also because you deserve it, not because I wanted anything in return."
I tried not to overthink anymore. I sat on the ground, on the blanket and beside the box. With my hands slightly trembling, I started to slowly tear the wrapping paper. Seb sat next to me, too close, giving me an unexpected kiss on the cheek and not bothering to move an inch away from me.
The first thing I saw was a pile of confetti, which I didn't hesitate to push aside, revealing a wide variety of all kinds of sweets, especially my favorites, along with small details of stationary supplies that I remembered seeing in that stationery store and that had caught my attention.
In the center were two small gifts wrapped as well as possible, each with an envelope attached with my name, written perfectly in light blue capital letters.
"This is too much, Seb," I honestly exclaimed, turning to him. "Now I understand why you've been asking me if I liked certain things and then you would return to the stores just to come out with a bag that you wouldn't let me see..."
"I know it's been very wrong on my part, but I think the little scare I gave you was worth it. Just look at the beautiful and happy face you have right now," he revealed, laughing, squeezing my cheeks.
And here I was, thinking he was going to break up with me...
Definitely, I didn't deserve Sebastian Vettel.
"First, you have to read the note from the envelope carefully," the German explained carefully, "and then try to guess what it could be."
"And after all that, can I open it?" I innocently asked, although the answer was more than obvious.
"Of course. Here, try this one first."
He took the rectangular gift and handed it to me. Before reading anything, I started to make assumptions about what it could be, but I was so overwhelmed that I decided to finish my task within a few seconds.
With eagerness, I carefully opened the envelope so as not to tear it because I was going to keep it until the end of time to remember this day, and, with a bit of optimism, to be able to show it to our children someday if we were still together.
"Can you read it out loud for me, princess? I don't remember what it says."
You said that, fortunately or unfortunately, you had finished the first gift I gave you. I hope this second part is as good, or even better, than the first one," I read aloud and clearly. "P.S.: I hope from now on you write more, and better, about me.
I looked up and saw Seb smiling.
"Do you know what it could be?" he wanted to know.
Of course I did.
"Di's diary, part two."
He didn't say anything else although his half-smile had formed almost automatically, saying it all. With a slight nod of his head, he gave me the go-ahead to open it, and so I did. As soon as I got rid of the wrapping paper I saw a notebook that I would now use as a diary, and which, like the previous one, had a plain color and a photo of us after the victory of his first world championship, our first photo, in Polaroid format.
"Seb... I don't know what to say..."
"Don't say anything yet because there's another one here."
He handed me the second gift. This one had the form of a square and, by feeling it, I realized it didn't have just one envelope, but two. This second one, on the back, was much larger. Before I could take a look, Seb removed it and hid it behind his back, as if he were a little kid not wanting anyone to take away a candy from him.
"First the small one, which is the one you'll like the least," he clarified in a childish tone.
"Okay, okay..."
Just as I did with the previous one, I carefully tore open the envelope, opened it, and read the note out loud:
I see sparks fly whenever you smile. Get me with those green eyes, baby, as the lights go down.
It couldn't be true.
I was so excited that I didn't even make guesses about what it could be. I tore the paper, now eagerly and with so much force that I saw an album falling to the ground.
As soon as I read Speak now on the cover, and saw a blonde girl wearing a purple dress, I let out a muffled scream.
“Taylor Swift's albums, Seb?! Seriously?!”
Taylor Swift and Fearless were also in the small package, and now the excitement was overwhelming. I screamed like I hadn't in a long time. I stood up, and seeing Seb doing the same, I threw myself into his arms and kissed him like I had never kissed him before, like he truly deserved to be kissed.
"If you're like this over three albums, how are you going to react when you see this?"
Without saying anything else, he handed me the larger envelope.
I hesitated whether to take it or not because his face was totally expressionless, although his eyes hinted that he was eager for me to know what was inside.
Tickets for the Speak Now World Tour. Impossible.
"Seb, tickets have been sold out for quite a while now..." I stuttered, unable to look him in the eyes because I didn't want him to see me cry over this. "You know I've been looking everywhere for months and haven't found anything..."
"Well, but you're lucky to have found a boyfriend who’s a Formula 1 driver and has certain privileges," he said, forcing us to hug each other. "I think you already know how we're going to celebrate the fourth anniversary of the day we met."
"You still remember?"
I pulled my head from his chest to look at him. His eyes were shiny, probably like mine were. The moment I saw him nod was when I couldn't contain my tears, and he couldn't control his either.
"How could I forget the day I met you, Di? It was March 13th, I'll never forget it," I was surprised he remembered, but what could I expect from this guy? "You met me in 2008, and in 2012 I promise you'll meet Taylor as surely as my name is Sebastian. Since we have to go to Australia for the first Grand Prix of the year it's no problem if we leave a few days earlier."
"You must be kidding," was all I could say in a voice so low that only I heard it.
I remained standing even as I saw him sit down and start to open the bag containing the takeout food he had ordered.
"Di, I don't know what you'd prefer first, so I'll put a bit of everything on the plate for you, and if you don't want more, I'll eat it myself or we can save it for tomorrow, okay?"
I sat down beside him, perhaps too close for us to be able to dine quietly and comfortably, but in those moments, I think neither of us cared in the slightest.
"I'm really sorry I didn't get you anything sunshine," I said as I picked up a glass of gazpacho. "Honestly, I completely forgot, and I won't lie to you: I've never celebrated Valentine's Day, so..."
"Don't worry about that, Di. Don't you dare to think about gifts or anything," he interrupted, leaving his plate of food on the blanket and wrapping his arms around me, taking my chin and forcing me to look at him. "From now on, we're going to celebrate everything," he stole a kiss from me and then pulled away. "But I don't want you to give me anything, alright? The best gift not only for Valentine's Day, but for life, is you, and nothing and no one in the world will surpass you, okay?"
"Okay, sunshine."
"Di," he called me a few seconds later as he started eating. "You're the best thing that’s ever been mine.”
I smiled and ate, trying not to choke, enjoying Seb's effort to sing Mine as best as possible while also trying to keep the piece of tortilla in his hands from breaking.
I felt happy, and I was afraid it would be snatched away from me at any moment. I allowed myself the luxury of not thinking about it, and as our voices joined together in unison in the chorus of the song, I couldn't help but think that on days like today, my boyfriend, my partner, the only person who had trusted me to rise in Formula 1, the blond German who had hurt me only to fix it afterwards, the one I risked considering the love of my life, was the one who made everything worthwhile.
#formula 1#f1#sv5#sebastian vettel x reader#formula 1 imagine#vettel#sebastian vettel fanfic#formula one#sebastian vettel#Sebastian Vettel x oc#saint valentine#Sebastian Vettel x fem oc#Sebastian Vettel fluff#fluff#history sebastian vettel#history series#history#Sebastian Vettel history#Sebastian Vettel imagine#Sebastian Vettel one shot#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 one shot
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Hello , got any fics for me?
I howled with this gif. 😆
Okay. So my beloved Ez [@sylasthegrim 💜] just posted their fic recs for Aemond Targayren that is filled with some of the amazing talent we have on Tumblr. This post is going to be a shout out to some of my favorites on ao3 for those who prefer that web UX vs the Tumblr app [which makes me queasy sometimes].
💜 First off, the above mentioned Ez posts on ao3. Our origins story was literally me commenting on every fucking chapter of their story Love is a Downfall [amazing] and it slowly, but surely, won them over.
💜 Literally anything by @inthedayswhenlandswerefew. Her narration is fucking brilliant, rich, witty, and, of course, angsty as fuck. [A personal favorite of mine is Now I'm Covered in You, which I have reread an obscene amount of times.]
💜@humanpurposes has the penname lolololola on ao3. One of my favorites is Hysteria, but she posted a new Florismond story that was fucking amazing [like everything she writes].
💜@barbieaemond is also on ao3. King of Qarth is her latest piece and the au idea, the narration, just every word is so brilliant.
💜 Winterwood by @lonnson is another au that mixes dark, gothic fairytales into the GRRM world in this seamless way. Her Aemond is one of my favorite literary versions.
💜@moris-auri has her wonderful stories on ao3. Read them all. Sermon of Desire was delicious, but seriously, I just enjoy everything Miranda shares with us.
💜the thing about dragons by @killergirlfuria is an isekai when the old gods of the GRRM world snatch up a soul to send back and try to stop the Dance of the Dragons. Her prose is some of my favorite, and I love the mixture she does of modern into Westeros, since the OC is from the 21st century.
💜Anything by honeydwine. Her Alysmond has set a bar that HBO will surely disappoint, but I'm okay because I will go back and reread these stories.
Again, these are just a few off the top of my head and my subscriptions.
To my Tumblr kindred spirits, please post any UNs I may have forgotten or share some of your favorite stories from ao3 in the comments! 🥰
Enjoy lovely!
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So could I request Chun-Li, Juri and Cammy (seperate) headcanon for their Male S/O coming home and showing them a shirt they bought that says something like "I want my gf to sit on my face" or "I want to be crushed between my gf's thighs"
My good sir, I salute you for this.
Now! Your wish is my command!
Chun-Li was mortified as soon as she saw your most recent purchase and how shamelessly you wore it in front of her.
It was black shirt that read, in big, bold, pink letters “I Want My GF To Crush Me Between Her Thighs”.
“Hey there-” you began to greet your wonderful girlfriend before you were grabbed by the collar and brought to Chun-Li’s furious, but still vibrantly blushing face.
“What in the world are you thinking! wearing something like that!” Chun-Li hissed, her embarrassment reaching a fever pitch.
“Chun-Li, you do realize that people the world over would pay you a small fortune to crush their heads between your thighs, myself included?” you told the woman with a blank expression, as if buying a shirt that said this was an inevitable possibility for you to wear.
Chun-Li was sent spiraling into a fit of stuttering embarrassment at how easily you said this.
“Can confirm! The amount of thirst comments on the Dojo’s sight that are just about your legs are astounding!” Li-Fen declared as she walked by, carrying a box of stuff for chores around the Dojo.
“LI-FEN!” Chun-Li shouted, completely mortified by her protege’s comment and backing of your argument.
That night, you thought for sure you would be on the couch, though it definitely would’ve been worth it.
However… well… let's just say that dreams, occasionally, do come true.
When Juri saw the shirt, red briefly flushed her face, however, she soon got herself under control and put her finger on the center of your chest as she huskily whispered.
“My, my, how bold of you! However, do you really think you can handle all of me? How about we see if you can?”
All throughout that day, Juri put you through hell in the most delectable ways she knew.
As for the shirt? Well, it was one of Juri’s favorites to see you wear.
Not simply because it was a shirt that told everyone that you were taken in a way that she absolutely loved.
But because both of you knew what happened after you wore that shirt and what will happen after every time you wear it.
Juri sure does hope you don’t mind being VERY dehydrated for long periods of time.
#chun li#chun li x reader#juri#juri han#juri han x reader#juri x reader#street fighter x reader#street fighter
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Appleradio/Radioapple secret marriage au part 4:
(Just letting yall know that I love seeing reblogs where you get personal with tags. Honestly didn't expect so many to like it so here's more. Please comment your thoughts and ideas cause I do think about them and I might actually add them.)
Husk liked the changes in Alastor. He liked how Alastor seemed kinder, never treated him as a cat anymore – it was probably since his attention was focused on both Lucifer and Charlie but he didn't care much.
Honestly, it was more unsettling to see Lucifer acting like that. The way honeyed words would spill from his lips with ease when he was drunk and 'alone' with Alastor – Husk was watching, but Alastor made him keep it a secret.
He especially didn't like the dynamic change. If Alastor got angry at him and decided to punish him then Lucifer would support Alastor each and every step of the way no matter how twisted he'd be. He learnt this from testing the waters – he intentionally taunted Alastor with the thought of wanting to see the new line of where to stop. And it was almost – keyword almost – funny to see Lucifer swoon for the way Alastor flexed the chain with ease, threatening Husk with forced calm which was a few words away from bursting.
But that incident was the only one in which Alastor almost lost his cool – Husk would like to keep it as the only one, too.
But, he'd never admit that he actually liked the new Alastor. The one who sometimes cook for the whole hotel, the one who barely paid attention to Vox, the one who didn't treat Husk like a pet and rather as an actual bartender (plus gambler). He'd never admit that he somewhat missed the way Alastor would pet his ears unpredictably in an attempt to make him purr – Alastor's boundaries were slightly blurred when it came to him initiating touches and especially so when it came to cats. It somewhat irritated him the way Alastor would avoid treating him that way the same way it filled him with happiness.
He wanted to be treated as a cat, but still as a human.
But it was irritating to be a third wheel around them in private. The way Lucifer would constantly be hugging Alastor and the way Alastor wouldn't mind being touched by Lucifer without warning – a similar way as with Rosie yet different. These touches were more intimate, with Lucifer even touching the tail of the deer. The tail that Husk had always wondered what it felt like with that same stoic expression on his face, the same tiredness in his eyes as he wondered how soft it was.
It was the same way he craved Alastor, in the way a predator would for prey. It didn't help that Alastor was an animal of prey, of all things. Of course, not a cat's main prey but Venison was admittedly tasty for Husk. How Alastor would have that enticing smell on him, which drew Husk in, made him salivate and imagine tearing the deer apart and bite into his flesh.
It was the main reason he lost his soul to the deer demon in the first place – he was hungry and lost his sense on reason especially when in such close proximity to the deer. It even reminded him of his first meal in hell, when he almost starved until finding a deer demon and tearing them apart, eating them raw with starvation until all was left was bones. And even then, the deer never smelt as good as Alastor did.
If most deer were just a good meal, Alastor was a delicacy that needed to be treasured. With rituals done before even touching him.
And it didn't help how he'd sometimes see bite marks on Alastor, made with different intentions yet still the same way he'd want to bite into him. It was why he still tested boundaries. He wanted to see how close he could get to the demon without causing anger. Because though he couldn't eat the demon, the smell was still enough.
His smell was why they became friends in the first place, and it was the reason he lost his soul, and it was the reason he was so irritated when he let Lucifer touch him.
He saw everything. The ring, the little touches, the gestures and even their alone time. It was to the point he almost told them to go somewhere else yet he ultimately decided not to. He didn't want to lose the hard-earned favour with Alastor.
He also saw how happy they'd be when paired together for trust exercises, the little spark in Lucifer's eyes and the way Alastor would be slightly more excited and willing to participate.
He didn't want to be Lucifer. He wanted Lucifer to be gone. He wanted Lucifer to back away from Alastor.
(Can this be twisted onesided Huskradio? Yes, yes it can.)
(Just for clarification, Husk's interest is more of wanting a good meal than love or possession, but if you want it can be actual love or sexual interest. Alastor is not sex-repulsed but if you hate that idea so much then just imagine the bite marks were from something else and please don't hate this just for the slight Huskradio. For more context, Al and Husk became friends when Husk was drawn in by Alastor's scent. He hid this thoroughly from Alastor and the day they made their deal Husk was particularly hungry. He lost a lot of his reason from that and had to consciously hold himself back from eating Alastor so that is most of the reason he lost the bet and his soul. He doesn't hate this but he doesn't love it either. It gives him the chance to get closer to Alastor with the hope that one day he might actually be able to eat Alastor. Husk doesn't consider himself a cannibal nor does he consider it cannibalism.)
👀
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Bunny’s Moral Crisis and Julian being Anti Judeo-Christian
I was positive I got the impression, during my first read of TSH, that Bunny was truly morally bothered by the farmer-killing. Then I started wondering, post-reading, if I was being too generous, and Bunny legit was just worried for his life and was angry that the group was keeping secrets from him (that second one is what Henry told Richard).
But I got to the part in my on-and-off listening to the audiobook where Julian tells Richard he’s wondering what’s going on with Bunny. Julian says Bunny keeps approaching him and asking to talk about morality (particularly sin and forgiveness). Julian says he’s getting concerned that Bunny may convert to Marion’s religion. He asks Richard what denomination she is, and Richard says he thinks she’s Presbyterian. Julian is disappointed and says the only Christian denomination he can gracefully accept losing a student to is Roman Catholic.
Now this scene is interesting to me for a couple reasons. Firstly, it does indicate there may be more going on with Bunny internally than the Greek class gives him credit for. If Bunny is trying to approach Julian privately to talk about ethical dilemmas, this shows some level of genuineness in his questions (Julian also believes it to be earnest questioning). But secondly, Julian’s comment about only finding the Roman rite to be a worthy foe is so, so interesting to me.
The scene shows that something more is going on with Bunny, but it also reveals that Julian hates Judaism and Christianity— making exceptions for people like Dante and Giotto. The thing that’s fascinating to me about this detail is that Julian’s statements show the central theme of the whole book: that beauty is worth something if it’s backed by things of substance (Georges Laforgue says this, and the same thing is said by Theo in The Goldfinch. This is a concept important to Tartt’s writing).
Julian has a basic respect for Catholics, because Catholicism traditionally also has emphasis on art, philosophy, and classical aesthetic beauty. And, perhaps most importantly, Roman Catholics have kept Latin as the language of the Church and Vatican. The medieval Catholic Church was perhaps the biggest patron and commissioner of artists, and from the Catholic Church came Notre Dame, Aquinas, Dante, etc. Here, Julian mentions that the Catholics make “worthy foes” for the pagans, and what he means is that there’s all this aesthetic beauty and classical study within the Catholic Church. But it’s key here that Julian hates other branches of Christianity. The scene emphasizes that the only thing he enjoys about Catholics is their specifically classical history.
The thing I like about this detail is that it is a really specific bit of characterization to show that Julian does not care about morality or the search for truth that’s at the heart of all religions and mythologies. He’s different from people like Aquinas because he does not see human art and language as a means to articulate and pay homage one’s moral beliefs. He sees art/language as the highest good in and of itself. Once you remove the classics aspects of Catholicism, Julian does not care. And we see this because of his apparent disdain for Protestants and Jews. This also reminds me of Bunny saying Henry thinks Jamaicans have no culture. Obviously, they do, but it’s not the particular kind of culture and expression Julian and Henry find legitimate.
I guess I like how Donna Tartt understands her own theme and can show how it’s applicable so naturally just in the way her characters talk. We get a lot of hints about how closed-minded and shallow Julian actually is before we get to the end of the book where it’s confirmed.
#donna tartt#the secret history#tsh#bunny corcoran#julian morrow#the secret history analysis#honestly Henry and Julian would like Byzantine Catholics#holy moly have you been in a Byzantine church?#stunning
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hi! I’m not really sure why so many people ship mattdrai, and I was just wondering what it is about them that you like personally? I’m not usually someone who can see ships unless they have a lot of “canon” content, and I’ve seen them only interact like twice. can you help me see it?
hiiiii anon! i like mattdrai so much because as individuals matthew and leon are veeeery similar. they're two sides of the same "yappy alternate captain who likes to start shit and is obsessed with his quieter captain" coin and from the interactions they have had on the ice it's very clear that they have FUN riling each other up and that kind of dynamic has always been my favorite across all my fandoms.
also, i definitely get where you're coming from with canon content but from a writing and creating stand point it's sooooo fun to not really have anything but their personalities and canon events to work with!
but before i link you to the mattdrai primer, and some of my favorite canon moments, i'm going to say something super insane and say if canon ships are more your speed you should definitely just get into all matthew and his teammates because there's sooooo much good stuff going on in the panthers locker room lmao
anyway, here's a pretty comprehensive primer for their ~lore up to November 2023 and a list of things not mentioned in it but i'm constantly thinking about:
that time leon very gently grabbed matthew by the waist to pull him away from mike smith
(much funnier and compelling behavior because darnell nurse comes in after this and just pulls matthew back by the neck)
2. the way leon is pretty well known for zooming into scrums when connor's involved, but has been known to just stand by and watch while connor and matthew get into it.
like here in round 2:
and then again earlier this season:
(this is THE most compelling thing about matthew and leon's actual canon, like WHY DOES HE DO THAT?? what's different about matthew???)
3. that time in december 2022 one of the oilers' charity partners chirped matthew in the comments of one of leon's friends & family puma sponcons and instead of deleting the comment, he just deleted the whole post (which, if you scroll through his feed, you know he doesn't delete his sponcon posts lmao)
4. and then of course, my favorite hidden gem, the fact that matthew got some of his game worn jerseys from the 2023 asg signed by all the guys there, and then all the guys from the atlantic team (8:05), so somewhere in matthew's possession he has a jersey he asked leon to sign :')
#matthew ask#matthewleon#if none of this speaks to you anon#please let me indoctrinate you to the matthewcarter and matthewaaron agenda :'))
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just my rant on emilys character and how i associate her with other characters
i imagine emily's character being similar to blair's because no way this rat with barely a physical and metaphorical heart got everyone to do her things and didn't make a comment.
she'd have her minions (thea being one, what a loser. all that 'bitch aesthetic' and still a puppet)
she definitely love bombed people!! and make them feel wanted and loved and the drop them the second they are not useful or needed. because of this people would want to be in emily's good side. everyone simply wanted to be in emily's good side and her favourite.
like I've already said, she was probably as charming and manipulative (canon traits) as katherine. the idea of having two boys at her feet excited her, she was young so obviously.
i see her death day like 1964 stefan and damon. grayson being damon because he blindly followed the girl and what she wanted without even realising how messed up she is. jamie being stefan who realised that she's a rat (though stefan was just shocked at the time when kath revealed herself). even after that stefan tried to save katherine, still holding on (like jamie went back to the cliff and tried to khs).
next up simple!!!! she's just as mean as regina and is COMPLETELY regina but without regina leaving the mean girl thingy and coming clean with cady. there's no explanation needed. if you are wondering how emily acted in school, this is how.
#emily laughlin#the inheritance games#the brothers hawthorne#grayson hawthorne#jameson hawthorne#xander hawthorne#avery kylie grambs#nash hawthorne#the hawthorne brothers#avery grambs#the grandest game
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Hi my love!
I'm sorry if this is a bother, but I saw you were taking requests and I really wanted to see this one written and you do such amazing writing.
Please don't feel pressured into writing this tho
So, we all know Derek is like, 6'2" is, right, so the girls he talks to are shorter than him, but I was wondering if you could write something with a female reader where she is almost as tall as him, and decided to wear heels to something, like a party or a gala or something, and she feels insecure about being so tall and he's just swooning over her because look at his tall woman, his amazing tall woman who works as an FBI profiler and can literally kick anyone's ass and just look how cool his girlfriend is.
Like, if you wanted to you could write about how some guy made a comment and Derek literally had to be held back because he was full on ready to throw hands for the reader.
Bonus points of she's like really fit, like she definitely hits the gym and you can see it
Again, you don't have to write it if you don't want to/don't feel comfortable, I just thought it would be cute
OMG I love this idea, it's so freaking cute! I had so much fun with this and istg I'm so sick of y/n always being some small fragile little thing in fics, it drives me crazy!!!!
Thank you for requesting my dear ! :)
my girl- d.morgan
a/n: intended for tall fem!reader but as per usual imagine what you like :)
summary: derek comforts you after something happens at the yearly award show
pairings: derek morgan x reader, (platonic) bau team x reader
warnings: insecurities, suggestive tones, crying, fluff :)
You loved your body, seriously you did. It was your vessel, your home. You nourished it and took care of yourself.
But sometimes you wanted to feel shorter. Being tall has its advantages, and yes, you knew you were more than conventionally attractive, but it didn’t stop the nagging feeling in the back of your head, telling you it was weird that when you wore heels, your boyfriend was looking up at you, not down. Derek was 6’2. You were 6’2 ½ with these heels on. You were taller, which was fine, but it played in your mind more than you had wanted it to for the entire night.
Derek on the other hand? When he saw you in that perfect dress he didn’t think he’d have the willpower to actually stop himself from fucking you before the event. He felt so lucky. His beautiful, ass-kicking girlfriend was wearing a dress that he’d bought her and she looked fucking delicious. He knew you were gorgeous, especially when he was regularly graced with the image of you naked, but this was another level. On your latest mission you’d taken the unSub down on your own and he swore he’d never been more turned on. The way you just overpowered him, getting his knife off him and cuffing him. You were the most beautiful person in his eyes, you always would be.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Walking into the gala, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, gripping and pawing at you, kissing you constantly. Though, he could see something was wrong. Was this gala too much for you? Did you want to go home early? He wouldn’t have complained.
“You alright baby?” He asked as another award was announced.
“Fine,” you sighed, staring into your plate of food as you just moved the mashed potatoes around.
“Baby,” He placed his hand on your thigh, grabbing your attention. “Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing.”
Derek frowned. You weren’t usually one for keeping things from him. “Baby-”
“I’m going to the bathroom,” you announced to the table, and stood up. You avoided Derek’s concerned eyes and he got up to follow you.
“How’s the weather up there?” A drunk asshole asked you and he saw the way your face subtly contorted into upset, trying to hide tears.
He saw red.
His eyes darkened and his fists balled at his sides. “You wanna say that again?”
The drunk asshole sobered slightly after seeing the seriousness on Derek’s face.
“Derek it’s fine-” you pleaded, wanting to sink into the floor.
“No it’s fucking not. Say it again.”
David and Aaron got up from the table, stalking over before Derek swung at the guy.
They were too late.
“Derek!” You shouted as the other two pulled him off the man. Other tables were starting to stare and you felt perpetually worse. You should’ve just worn flats.
“You can shut up next time, yeah?” Derek jeered at the bleeding man as Aaron and David held him back.
“Calm down,” Aaron ordered cooly, and Derek instantly pulled himself out of their arms,brushing them off.
“I’m calm,” he said. He was not calm. No one got to insult his girl.
“Can we just go home?” You whispered through shaky breaths. Derek’s attention was all on you.
“Of course we can.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The drive home was silent, his hand on your thigh as you attempted to calm down.
Derek was wracking his brain for why you’d been off all night but came up empty.
What was wrong?
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You kicked off your shoes, practically running to the bathroom and locking it behind you. Derek sighed to himself as he set down the keys, deciding to grab himself a beer.
You took off your makeup, your dress, and showered, trying to wash your insecurities away. You knew you were pretty, you knew Derek loved you the way you were.
Sometimes insecurities just get the better of you.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You sheepishly walked into your bedroom and saw Derek on the bed, waiting for you.
“Can we talk?” He asked and you nodded slowly. “What’s wrong?”
And with that, the floodgates opened. You pushed your face into his chest, crying against him as he comforted you. “I just… I know I’m ‘pretty’ and all but… sometimes I just-”
“Hey, you are pretty, so goddamn pretty baby,” he smiled at you and it eased some of the hurt in you. “But I get that you don’t always feel like it, which is fine too, y’know why?”
“Why?” You snuffled out, looking up at him through running mascara.
“Because I can alway remind you, my pretty girl,” he smirked, and sealed his statement with a kiss.
You felt better, knowing you had someone who loved you no matter what.
It’s not like Derek minded, he was so head over heels for you you could’ve had two heads and he wouldn't have cared. You were his.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
criminal minds masterlist:)
#derek morgan x y/n#criminal minds#criminal minds imagine#bau team#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#derek morgan#derek morgan fluff#derek morgan x reader#derek morgan fanfiction#derek morgan x you#derek morgan imagine#david rossi#elle greenaway
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