#this is like all over the place but i just had to get the concept out someone else can go make it good and better

[chilling-seavey]

Love Thy Neighbour (gr63) - Part Two

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

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

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

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

↳ Word Count: 27.3k

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

PART ONE

October 1984

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, you.” you greeted her sweetly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Nancy nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gardening.” you answered.

“In your empty garden? In early autumn?”

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

“No other reason?”

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

“I see.” George chuckled, certainly disbelieving. 

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

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

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

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

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

“Me neither.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?” he asked breathily. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not anymore.” you stumbled out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go on then.” George encouraged. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You smiled, “Me neither.”

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

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

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

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

“Mhm.” 

“Friday was my wedding anniversary.”

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

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

“I’m sorry.” George stumbled out. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could something so morally wrong feel so right?

“Two tickets to Crimes of Passion, please.” 

“That’ll be $6.72.”

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

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

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

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

He shrugged, “No reason.” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Sure. I don’t mind.” he nodded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Us too.” you chuckled. 

“Really great minds then.” George concluded. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We gotta go home.” he chuckled. 

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

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

It was always another time. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah! Coming!” he called back. 

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

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

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

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

“Thanks.” you answered softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you, honey.” you smiled. 

“How was the train ride? Alright?” 

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

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

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

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

You looked at him fondly, “Me too.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?” he asked quietly.

You merely nodded and he kissed your cheek. 

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

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

“Sneak off?” he chuckled, “What for?”

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

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

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

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

“What do you think?” he asked.

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You pouted, “Right.”

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

“Do you?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sometimes.” you humoured him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What can I do?” he asked genuinely. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Coming?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This what you wanted?” he asked lowly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Andy…” you breathed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How do you want me?” he asked. 

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

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

“Oh my God.” he exhaled. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

November 1984

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

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

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

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

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

“Gonna kick butt!” Richard agreed excitedly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh really?”

“I am merely stating the obvious.”

“Which is?”

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

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

“I’m always good.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Not eating?” he asked. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

George chuckled lowly as he groped your ass and lapped at your pussy with his warm wet tongue, working with the movements of your hips. It certainly wasn’t the first time you had his mouth between your legs but being able to set the pace yourself was unreal and you gaped at the wall in front of you and you ground yourself on his mouth harder, faster, fingers tugging at his hair. He only encouraged you on with pleasurable moans against your pussy, trying to keep up with your motions until you were just smearing your liquids all over his face. 

His hot breath against your skin was shiver-worthy and his hands only ignited your sense ten-fold as he reached up to grope your breasts and pinch your nipples. You pulled one hand out of his hair to set on his chest behind you for added stability, trying to smother your sounds through a bitten lip just in case someone was close enough to hear. But the house was perfectly empty with everyone distracted in the backyard, meaning only George was privy to the sounds of pure erotic pleasure that tumbled from your lips. 

Your clit was aching against his tongue and he tended to it generously, eyebrows furrowing with pleasure as he had you falling into bliss on top of him. His name coming from your mouth was the sweetest sound like that’s where it was meant to be and soon it came over and over again like a chant, gradually getting higher and needier. Your hand in his hair tugged harder as your hips moved faster on his mouth as if you were just completely using him, feeling erotically prioritized like never before. You were dizzy. 

No, really, you were actually dizzy, and once you clued into the way the room spun around you a little, you slowed to a stop. Your legs were quivering on either side of his head and George - not wanting to waste time - took that opportunity to switch positions and roll you over onto your back with him in his rightful place on top of you. 

“You okay?” he chuckled softly, noticing your wide blinking eyes. 

“Yeah. Got a little dizzy there for a second.” you confessed, sliding your hands up his biceps. 

“Wanna stop?” he asked. 

“No.” you answered almost too quickly. “I’m fine.”

With the muffled sounds of the guests and the music outside, George angled the tip of his hard cock against your messy pussy, dragging it between your slick folds a few times before plunging it steadily inside you all the way. Your head dropped back against the pillow that smelt like him, offering him the sweetest groan to the ceiling. 

“That’s it.” George exhaled, shifting slightly to grab your legs and he pushed them back towards your chest. With his thumbs hooked in the backs of your knees, he had you nearly folded in half, giving him a perfect unobstructed view he started to thrust into you. 

Your hands grasped the pillow on either side of your head as he fucked the sweetest sounds from your chest. Every single time he always knew just how to treat you and it never got old; it only ever made you crave him stronger, addicted to the way he could fuck you like no one else could. On his knees for you, his thrusts were slow but hard, shoving into you roughly each time until the headboard was almost hitting the wall in time with the rhythm. 

“How’s that?” he asked you, gaze unwavering from yours. 

“Faster.” you begged, “Faster, please, sir.” 

“Yeah? Want me to make you cum and send you back to your husband with my cum dripping down your thighs?”

“Yes, sir.” you nodded, voice breaking slightly as he started to fuck you faster. Your mouth dropped open and your eyes nearly rolled back, letting out a jagged moan to the ceiling with your knuckles turning white from how you gripped the pillow case. 

“Yeah, you’re my dirty fucking slut, aren’t you?” he removed his left hand from your leg to wrap his fingers around your throat, pinning you down snugly to his bed, ordering, “Hold your legs open for me…let me in as deep as I can go.” 

You let go of the pillow to grab a hold of your legs, pulling them towards your chest by the backs of your knees. Staring up into his eyes, it felt like heaven. The way he treated your body felt like pure erotic heaven. Nothing had ever felt so good before him and you swore nothing would ever feel that good after him. 

“Good girl.” George praised through his teeth, making a beautiful harmony with the wet squelch of your cunt taking his aggressive thrusts and the bed squeaking underneath you. “Good fucking girl…I want you to cum for me.”

“Yes, sir.” you whimpered, watching closely as he lifted his right hand to slip his thumb in his mouth before dropping it down to rub at your clit. Your mouth fell open with a whiney gasp, eyes struggling to stay open as the intensity tore through your body. All you could manage out was a faint chant of “yes, yes, yes” as you felt the warmth building inside you. 

George’s handsome groans were a struggle to hold back too and you could see the way his jaw clenched behind the bite to his bottom lip as he tried to hold back. But you and him were a red-hot mix, unbelievably passionate, like you were two halves of a whole, and it was impossible to slow down together. 

So you came together, like perfect harmony, clinging onto each other with limbs tangled on top of bed sheets, sweaty bodies meshing as one, and you never wanted to let him go. It nearly brought a tear to your eye as you shuttered in his arms and came around him, squeezing him so tightly that he let out the richest moans against your neck as he curled into you. With a few more strong thrusts from your handsome neighbour, you were mouthing a blissful swear word to the ceiling as you felt him coming deep inside you like he always did. 

As if hit by a sudden streak of clarity, your momentary pleasure dropped off into shocking realization. Playing it off, you still offered George a smile and a kiss as he shifted off of you and right away he was reaching for his underwear. You had a party to return to, after all. 

So you forced yourself to your feet as well and got dressed alongside him, happily accepting his kisses before he walked you to the door. The moment you reached the end of the hall together and the top of the stairs - George tucking his hat back on his head - Jennifer turned the corner at the bottom of the stairs. 

“There you are.” she said, “Where were you?”

You kept walking down the stairs as casually as you could, trying not to let the quiver of your legs show too much. George answered for you, “She wasn’t feeling well so I showed her the bathroom and got her some ibuprofen.” 

“Just needed a second.” you said with a tight smile to his wife, “Nothing serious.” 

She nodded faintly, leaning on the handrail as you drifted past her and she turned her attention to George, “I need help cleaning up.”

“Yeah, of course.” 

The three of you emerged from the house together and you habitually smoothed down your hair as you approached Andrew and a few of the other parents. Your husband smiled at you warmly and slid his arm around your waist with a kiss to your cheek, “There you are. Where’d you run off to?”

“Just the bathroom.” you said softly, unable to even feign a smile. 

Andrew stared at you for a moment, assessing your melancholy expression, and he rubbed your back and leaned in closer to check in, “You okay?”

You pulled a tiny close-lipped smile in his direction and nodded, “Feeling a little funny but I’m okay.”

“Did you want to go home?”

“No, no.” you waved him off, “I’m fine.”

Andrew turned back to the conversation with a few of the other parents, his arm still around you comfortingly, and his hand slid into the back pocket of your jeans. The move would have usually made you blush pink but instead you were just hoping he couldn’t feel how your legs quivered underneath you. You crossed your arms across your chest and let your mind stew, piecing together all the ways you hadn’t felt yourself that last week, all leading up to today. 

As if on cue, you felt a thick drop of cum slip out of you and into your underwear, unbeknownst to everyone around you including your husband. You closed your eyes for a second and took a deep breath and said a silent prayer in hopes that you weren’t pregnant. 

First thing the next morning, you took the car to the grocery store to pick up a few things to prepare for the week ahead. You were still feeling off even after your good night’s sleep and although you pinned it to an annual fall cold, you found yourself in the pharmacy aisle in front of the home pregnancy tests. Maybe it was because you had been through it once before that subconsciously you knew what your symptoms could have been hinting towards, but outwardly, you wanted to avoid it at all costs. In fact, you almost went home without one because if it happened to come back positive, you swore your life would be entirely ruined. But you bought one and hid it in the bottom of one of the brown paper bags so when you carried them into the house, it wasn’t easily noticeable to your husband or your son. 

The moment you walked in the door, Richard was rushing over to greet you, already dressed for the day undoubtedly by his father since he was still in pyjamas when you had left. Your little boy trailed after you into the kitchen where you set the paper bags on the counter and he pitched to you sweetly, “Mommy, can I go ask if James can play?”

“Of course, baby.” you reached down to pet his hair, “Did you already ask Daddy?”

Andrew appeared in the doorway to the kitchen too in his usual running gear, giving your son a playful little nudge to the back of his head, “I already said yes, silly goose. Why do you have to ask Mommy again?”

“I dunno.” Richard giggled and slid around your legs to hide from his father. 

“Because you’re a Mommy’s boy, aren’t you?” you said with a smile, glancing down behind you to your son who had himself wrapped around your legs. 

Richard only smiled bashfully against your thigh, his cheeky brown eyes sparkling up at his father who crossed his arms over his chest dramatically. 

“I get it.” Andrew sighed heavily. “No one loves dad.” 

Richard giggled from behind you and slithered between your legs to cheer up his father with a hug of his own and a promised, “I love you, Daddy.”

“Oh, thank you.” Andrew gushed and crouched down to swallow his laughing and squirming son into his arms properly, showering him in kisses all over his face, “I love you too.”

“Ew!” Richard squealed and wiggled away from him. “No kisses!”

“Go play.” Andrew gave his bum a little pat to send him off down the hallway, “Get outta here.” 

The sound of Richard’s feet down the hallway brought a fond smile to your face as you turned your attention to the filled grocery bags without making a move to unpack them. Andrew stood back up and tugged at the corner of one of them, trying to peek in.

“What’d you get?”

You grabbed them away from him a bit harder than anticipated, “Nothing exciting.”

His eyebrows furrowed briefly despite the amused smile on his face, “Okay.”

“You going on a run?” you asked casually. 

Andrew looked down at his snug white t-shirt and red jogging shorts, answering sarcastically, “Nah, I just know how much you love my tiny shorts so I thought I’d wear them around the house some more.”

“Shut up.” you laughed lightly. 

Andrew set his hand on your back as he leaned in to kiss your cheek, “I’ll be back in an hour or so. Love you.”

“Okay. Love you.” you kissed him goodbye and watched him leave. 

When the front door was shut and both your husband and son were gone, you hurried to throw any refrigerated items into the fridge before grabbing the pregnancy test box from the bottom of one of the grocery bags and you hightailed it upstairs. You closed your bedroom door and closed your ensuite door just to be safe before opening the box and removing the contents onto your bathroom counter. 

It looked not much unlike one of Richard’s play chemistry sets as you carefully set up the two vials in the provided stand and filled them both with a few drops of liquid from the small eyedropper. Then, you sat yourself on the toilet with the clear plastic cup held between your legs, silently wishing for a miracle. You were hoping it would be negative and Andrew would never have to know and it could all be brushed under the rug and forgotten about. Yes, you wanted more kids more than anything but life had made it a bit more complicated. 

When you were finished and flushed, you used the second eyedropper to add urine to both vials before capping them to let rest and you discarded the garbage and washed your hands. There was a forty-five minute wait on the at home tests - the fastest of its kind so far, the advancement of technology was truly incredible - but that still felt like an eternity to you. So you left the tests on the small plastic stand on your bathroom counter and returned downstairs to finish putting away the groceries. 

As a distraction, you selected an album from your library and turned on your record player in the living room, turning up the volume a little more to keep your mind away from the life-changing decision that was brewing in your upstairs bathroom. You tended to the dusting of the main floor and you put away some of the clutter that mostly consisted of Richard’s toys, letting the music take you away. Well, so much so that your mind was completely invested in the melody rather than the weight that lingered on your shoulders. 

Andrew returned from his run an hour later as promised and he greeted you in the kitchen where you were making lunch. You didn’t acknowledge him much as the song that was playing had you invested in the rhythm and you swayed softly around the kitchen, barely processing him telling you that he was going to get a shower before lunch. It wasn’t until he was halfway up the stairs that it clued into your mind and you dropped the knife onto the counter with a clatter. 

“Wait! Andy!” you called loudly after him to try and top the music. You hurried down the hallway and yanked the needle off your record to send screeching silence through the house before you took the stairs two at a time, calling his name again desperately as you turned into your bedroom, “Andy, honey.”

But he was already in the ensuite bathroom and that was right where you found him, standing at the counter with the two vials in hand. He turned to you, revealing the creamy white toned liquid inside - the white colour indicating a positive result. You swallowed back the bile in your throat for reasons he need not know about. 

“What is this?” he asked firmly, his furrowed expression unreadable. 

“I-” you swallowed, holding yourself up on the doorway, “I didn’t want you to see that yet.”

“You’re pregnant?” his eyebrows raised. 

You didn’t quite know what to say. Andrew turned back to the counter and set the vials back on the stand before bending over to the trash bin to retrieve the empty box. You knew perfectly well what the colour meant but you let him double check and when he did, the box was tossed back into the bin and he set his hands on his hips with an exasperated sigh. 

“Fuck.” he swore stiffly, raking a hand through his hair and he rubbed his fingers over the back of his neck. 

Your words had abandoned you, not having prepared to find out this way - right in front of him. You could see him through the reflection of the mirror, staring at how his face was screwed up in thought as if he were going through every phase of grief in his mind, trying to figure out what to say or do next. 

Finally, he inhaled deeply and said, “I thought we agreed that we were going to stop at one.”

“Well, I didn’t do it on purpose.” you protested strongly. 

Andrew turned back around to you, “I have been nothing but completely accommodating to what you need…putting my own shit to the side for you because I love you. But I specifically said…”

He faded out, pressing his fingertips to his temples in frustration. 

“What are you talking about?” you couldn’t help the edge that came to your voice. 

“These last few weeks, after you asked me for another kid and I said no, you have been on some mission to ‘rekindle our passion’ and have just been pulling me to bed every chance you get.” he laughed humorlessly, “Now I see why.”

“What the fuck?” you frowned, “That’s the biggest amount of bullshit I have ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“I don’t want another kid!” Andrew said sternly. “I barely wanted the first one! But we made it work because you were happy and it was what you wanted and I gave up my apartment and my goals and my life for this family because it was important to you. You who I had only known a few months but I swore was the perfect girl for me. I love you so much but now it’s just a blatantly obvious infinite loop of you taking, taking, taking and me just giving it all up for you.”

Andrew pushed past you into the bedroom and your head turned after him with mouth agape. You were entirely stunned speechless. In his white t-shirt and short red shorts, it was almost humorous how this conversation was happening as he paced the room.

He turned to you again, tossing a hand in the air, “When do I get what I want? Huh? When do you do something for me?”

“When do I do something for you?” you snapped back, “Are you serious? I do literally everything for you! I raise your kid, I cook your meals, I do absolutely everything around the house so you don’t have to lift a finger!” 

“I mean in life! With our goals! Why do we always have to do what you want? This house was what you wanted, getting married was what you wanted, having a bunch of kids is what you wanted. I didn’t want this! I didn’t want this stupid job that I am working my ass off day in and day out to get enough money to get by.”

“Oh, Andrew, stop it.” you scoffed, “What was your other choice, huh? A musician? An actor? A fucking Formula 1 driver? You had no sufficient, sustainable, real plans before me. You were a loose cannon before me. You were going to be broke and starving until someone got you straightened out and that just happened to be me. Life isn’t fantasies. You’re not going to be some top of the charts musician on MTV or World-Fucking-Champion and you just have to get over it.”

Andrew shook his head angrily and crossed his arms over his chest with a huff, turning away from you, “Can’t bloody believe this shit.”

“You’re twenty-six-years-old, Andrew! You’re a grown man with a wife and a home and a kid and a nice-paying stable job. So many people would kill to be in your position.” 

He turned back around to you quickly, jabbing his finger against his chest, his voice loud and firm, “But it’s not what I want! I’m sick of working my ass off every single day just to get by at a job I can’t stand! I put my blood, sweat, and tears into providing for this family and all I ask is a little compassion and a little give.”

You threw out your hands, shouting back at him, “What do you want from me?”

“How do you expect me to provide for a second kid when we can barely survive with the first?” Andrew took an angry step towards you, “I wish you just listened to me when I told you no-”

“You sound ridiculous! I didn’t knock myself up behind your back.” you snapped. Your words tasted bitter on your tongue with the silent knowledge that you truly may have done just that. You didn’t want to throw gas on the fire and make it a million times worse. Instead, you could only push away your internal battles and pray to God that the child growing inside you had the same dark features that were now staring angrily into your face. 

“Do you want me to tell you that I’m happy?” Andrew retorted. “Do you want me to lie to your face and tell you that I’m overjoyed and that we’re one big cheery happy fucking family?”

“Talk about compassion.” you spat, “A little reassurance wouldn’t kill you.”

“I can’t work any harder than I do.” Andrew reiterated, pressing his palms together, “One step further and my back will break. I will break.”

“I just want a family with you!” you protested loudly, tears brimming in your eyes, “I’m sorry that I love you and that I want children with you! I’m sorry that I’m a shitty wife for…for whatever I did that you’re currently yelling at me over!” 

“Well I’m sorry that my best isn’t ever good enough for you!” Andrew countered even louder. 

You couldn’t hold back the small frustrated sob that slipped past your lips. 

“Shit.” he huffed and turned away from you, taking a few steps across the room with his hands raking through his hair. 

The sudden silence lingered tense between you and you choked on it as you took a jagged inhale through your tears. Andrew stood a few paces away from you, still in his ridiculous jogging outfit, his fingers clutching his dark hair as if he were about to rip it right out of his head. You habitually looked over to one of the side windows of your bedroom that stared directly towards the neighbour’s house and in that moment you could have given anything to just be with George instead, wanting to just fall into his arms.

Andrew sniffled and turned around to you, barely able to even look at you as he said flatly, “I’m just gonna go for a walk.” 

“I made lunch.” you called after him as he walked right out of your room. 

“I’m not hungry.” he replied from the stairs. 

You listened to his every footfall on the stairs and then the sound of the front door opening and then shutting loudly. The house fell silent. Perfectly, eerily silent. You swore the sound of your breathing was echoing in your ears. 

Out of pure anger and frustration and self-hatred, you stormed back into the ensuite bathroom, bursting in so strongly that the door flung open hard enough to hit the wall. You caught yourself against the counter where the small plastic standing housing the two vials stood, both tests containing the murky white liquid of your positive result. Swearing loudly at yourself, you dumped the vials down the sink and threw everything in the trash bin as tears blurred your vision. 

Now that you were alone, you had the opportunity to let yourself process what this positive meant but the fight with your husband that was fresh on your mind just caused you to crumple to the ground with the heels of your palms pressed to your eyes. You swore to yourself over and over until your voice was breaking and the tears that leaked down your cheeks overflowed from your palms and onto the tile floor. 

But, as always, you had to pull yourself together. Lunch was growing warm down in the kitchen and you had to go get your son from his playdate so he could eat. You wiped your eyes in the bathroom mirror and straightened out your hair the best you could before returning downstairs. Stalling, you switched off your record player and set Andrew’s plate in the fridge just in case he wanted it later, before you finally allowed yourself to step outside. 

The crisp fall air filled your lungs and you took a deep refreshing breath as you walked down your front porch steps and began the short walk across your lawn to the neighbour’s house. Life felt like a hazy dream as you ascended their porch and knocked on the front door, barely processing anything that had happened that morning. Maybe dissociating was the right thing to do because subconsciously you knew that if you didn’t, the moment George opened the door and you saw him, you would have completely broken down. Instead, you greeted him with a tight lipped smile. 

“Just here to grab Richard for lunch.” you said flatly, the roughness to your voice from your crying obvious to everyone but you. 

George hesitated for a moment, staring at you, before turning into the house, “Ritchie, your mom’s here!”

Your little boy’s voice called back from upstairs, “Coming!”

George looked back at you, asking quietly, “You okay?”

You sniffled and nodded faintly, turning your head away from him to keep your composure. 

“Hey,” he reached out a hand to touch your wrist, “what’s going on?”

You stepped away from him, out of his reach, “I’m fine, George.”

Richard bounded down the stairs and burst right out the front door, throwing himself around your legs, “Mommy! Can we eat fast? James and I were in the middle of a race.” 

You put on the best smile you could offer the light of your life as you took his precious face in your hands, “Of course, my love.”

Richard took your hand and nearly pulled you down the stairs of the Russell’s front porch and George stepped out after you to stand on the top step. He watched while your son led the way home and you didn’t offer your concerned neighbour a second glance. 

You ate lunch with your son at the kitchen table, expertly dodging his questions about his father’s whereabouts. He scarfed down his sandwich and chips quite quickly - in a rush to get back to his friend and their play - but you picked haphazardly at yours, your already limited appetite only dwindled more so since your hostile conversation with your husband only moments before. You couldn’t imagine anyone not wanting another little angel just like Richard and you admired him adoringly as he squeezed the life out of his juice box until the straw made a loud slurping noise. 

“Done!” the five-year-old announced, turning to you with that sweet smile that had his pretty brown eyes scrunching closed at the corners, “May I be excused, Mommy?”

You reached over to pet his face, wanting to engulf yourself in your son completely, wanting your entire life to revolve around him and nothing else, “Yes, my love. Go and play.” 

He hopped off his chair and threw his arms around you for a fleeting hug before he was rushing back down the hallway and out the front door. You stood from the table and collected your dishes to bring to the sink, tossing out your barely touched sandwich on the way alongside Richard’s empty juice box. It didn’t feel real that Richard was going to have a sibling in a few short months - if you thought about it too much and the weight that it carried on your conscious, it made you absolutely nauseous.

You stood at the sink with your hand pressed to your mouth, trying to take deep breaths, and trying not to think about how a blue-eyed baby with light features would be the worst thing to happen to you in your life. What would that mean for you? For Andrew? For George and his marriage? You had to take this secret with you to the grave. You had to cut things off with George and never speak of it ever again. 

And then your hands flew to the side of the sink to catch yourself as you vomited. 

About an hour later, you were cuddled up on the couch under the family room blanket, flicking through the TV channels for something of even the slightest interest to you. But with your mind so busy, nothing seemed distracting enough. Your eyes drifted to the clock on the kitchen wall that placed you in the later half of the afternoon and you sighed. That’s when the front door opened. 

After six years of marriage, you could recognize Andrew’s footsteps without even needing to look and you kept your eyes on the TV screen playing some talk show through the otherwise silent house. Your attention was attuned, instead, to the sound of the front door closing and his keys on the table and his every footstep into the family room. He lingered in the archway for a moment and you didn’t dare look at him. Your curled up figure and the tissues that scattered the coffee table pitched your sorrow well enough. 

“I’m back.” he said flatly. 

You sniffled before answering with a faint shrug, “Okay.”

Andrew sighed and took a few more steps into the room, “Can we talk, sugar?”

“Not if you’re just gonna yell at me again.” you mumbled. 

“I didn’t…” he exhaled deeply and fell to a stop at the opposite end of the couch from you, “I didn’t mean to freak out on you like that.” 

You sniffled again. You didn’t look up. 

“I was just really taken by surprise. I didn’t expect that and I just…had a bit of an existential crisis, I’m afraid, and might have taken it out on you which was very wrong of me.”

You grabbed the remote from beside you on the couch and turned off the TV to give the conversation the attention it deserved although you still didn’t want to look at him. Maybe it was the anger or the guilt, you weren’t quite sure. Andrew took your move as an invitation to sit down and he did, keeping a respectful distance between you. 

“I’m really sorry I got so upset. I was a real prick to you. You didn’t deserve that.”

Picking at the blanket that was draped over you, you muttered, “Thank you.”

“Maybe this all isn’t what I had dreamt up for my life initially but it doesn’t mean it’s bad.” he continued, “In fact, it’s really good. It’s so good that sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve it.”

You finally looked over at him, “You deserve the world.” 

He met your gaze and offered you a small half smile, “So do you.” 

There was a pause where you just stared at each other from opposite ends of the couch for a moment. 

“Do you really not want another baby?” you asked. 

Andrew sighed and looked at the carpet, “It’s not that I don’t, it’s that I don’t want to never see you again. I already feel so distant with how much I have to work and to afford another kid? Even the thought of what that would entail exhausts me.”

“Maybe you gotta ask for a raise.” you said lightly. 

“Yeah,” he chuckled faintly, “I might have to.”

You turned your attention back to picking at the threads of the blanket. 

Andrew looked over at you again, “I never even asked: How are you feeling about it?”

Tired? Stressed? Terrified? Exhausted? Guilty? Depressed? Nauseous? 

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Kinda bad after our blow-up this morning.”

Andrew sighed and scooted closer to you, holding out his arm and you instinctively met him halfway on the couch to cuddle into his side. He pressed a kiss to your head as you rested against his shoulder and he held you close. 

“Don’t let your crap husband get in your head.” he teased. 

You smiled faintly and reached a hand out of your blanket to tap his thigh under the short fabric of his red jogging shorts, “You in those ridiculous shorts.”

“Hey,” he swatted your hand away, “you love these shorts on me.”

He was still faintly sweaty from his earlier jog and then from walking the neighbourhood for who knew how long but you still gladly shifted on the couch with him to drape yourselves out together, cuddled up and forgiving in each other’s arms. With your head on his chest, you closed your eyes to listen to his heartbeat and your arm around his middle squeezed him closer, wanting to absorb yourself into his familiarity and go back to when life was simpler. Andrew’s fingers trailed over your shoulder and into the roots of your hair, easily calming you down and taking the edge off of your stresses, his lips dusting a few soft kisses to your head. 

He then shifted beside you to face you a little more and he pushed the blanket farther down so he could lift up the bottom of your shirt and his fingers ghosted across your abdomen. It still looked the same as it always had but the secrets it housed inside were almost unspeakable. With your heads resting together comfortably, you and your husband stared down your body to the spot which warmly housed what you prayed was your baby grown in wedlock. 

“I love you.” Andrew promised into the air. “And this baby was made from that love and there is nothing more beautiful than that.”

You pulled a tight smile, barely whispering an audible “I love you” in return. 

The following week went by in a haze. The news of your pregnancy stayed between you and Andrew and although your husband seemed to be warming up nicely to the idea of having a second child, you were in a state of limbo. When Andrew was at work and Richard was at school, you didn’t dare leave your house in fear of running into George. In fact, you were even having Richard wait outside on your front porch until he saw George and James heading to the bus stop so he could go with them instead of you. In reality, it all sounded so pathetic. 

But you knew that one look at him and you would crumble and if you were set in your ways to break things off with him for the sake of your family, you needed to be strong. There were certainly better ways to go about it but it was a dire circumstance and your brain was foggy and the early months of pregnancy were really starting to hit hard with the symptoms. Karma, you were sure. You had dug yourself a hole and you were being forced to lie in it. 

When Andrew returned home on Friday night just in time for dinner, as usual, you were already exhausted from a long day of doing not much of anything. Fatigue was real and you had spent it all on making dinner, therefore not offering much conversation over the meal. Besides, your mind was going a mile a minute anyway - way too much going on to really formulate a coherent thought. 

With Richard watching TV and playing in the family room after dinner, Andrew helped you to clear the table and start on the dishes. You washed them at the sink and he took drying duty, making sure to put everything away where it went around the kitchen. 

“I ran into Jennifer on the train tonight.”

You didn’t acknowledge his statement at first, silently waiting for him to keep talking as you held out one of the wet plates to him. 

“Jennifer Russell. Our neighbour?” Andrew continued and took the plate from you to dry it off. 

“Yes, I know who you meant.” you said softly. 

“Oh. Well, she and I got to chatting and we were thinking about having another double date night soon. Maybe just something simple like a dinner? I offered that we could host.”

You laughed breathily towards the sink, “I’m hardly up to cooking a whole meal for two families right now. I’m lucky if I go an hour without puking.”

“That’s okay. We can order something in.” Andrew offered, “It’d be a nice treat.”

You debated quietly for a moment as you scrubbed the plate in your hand. In reality, your hesitation wasn’t necessarily about the need for dinner prep as it was more towards the anxiety of seeing Jennifer’s husband face to face. Then, you asked, “When?”

“Tomorrow?”

The part of you that really missed George tugged at your hormonal heartstrings and you debated for one more second before finally, “Okay.”

And tomorrow came before you knew it. 

And George then was standing in your foyer talking to your husband with a clueless smile on his face, his hand resting on his wife’s back. 

And you were wondering why on earth you thought this was a good idea. 

“Come on in.” Andrew hung up your guests’ jackets in the front closet, “Make yourself at home.”

While the children helped themselves to the family room where Richard’s plentiful toys were littered across the carpet, you four grownups took to the living room to chat while you waited for dinner to arrive. Andrew chose a record from your abundant collection and as he did so, the rest of you took your seats. 

On your way across the room, George’s hand ghosted over your back and he offered a breathy, “Hey.”

You barely smiled in return, “Hi.”

He and his wife took to the chairs and you and Andrew shared the modest floral sofa. Conversation progressed easily although your mind was distracted by the memories you held with your neighbour on that very couch. It seemed George was thinking the same thing as he stared at the upholstery and then met your gaze, letting a faint smirk prick at the corner of his mouth. You looked to your lap, unresponsive. George’s smile faltered. 

But you pitched into conversation where possible to appear as normal as you could to your unsuspecting spouses. You were good at playing the part of devoted wife - as you had learned over the prior few weeks - and your hand rested on Andrew’s thigh innocently as you talked amongst yourselves and stayed tucked under his loving arm. George seemed to be analysing your every move with his eyes not often straying from you. You tried not to give him much in return, focusing your attention on Jennifer’s incredible mundane story about work. 

KFC was ordered for dinner and when the driver arrived, Andrew got up to pay while you got the dishes ready in the kitchen and organized the kids at the table. Your polite guests helped to plate the take-out food once Andrew brought in the brown paper bags and you divided everything up and served the children first. You made sure they each had a juice box and plentiful napkins and George cut up Nancy’s chicken for her on her plate at the same time. Andrew and Jennifer took your grown-up plates to the dining room, leaving you and George alone in the kitchen with the kids for a moment. 

When you drifted over to throw away the plastic straw wrappers in the trash bin under the sink, George followed you to rinse his hands quickly. Before you could escape, he grabbed your sleeve with one finger to stop you. 

In a quiet voice, he asked, “Are you avoiding me?”

“No.” you answered flatly.

“Are you sure? I haven’t seen you all week and on Sunday you seemed upset. Now you can hardly look at me. Does Andrew know-”

“No.” you said firmly, stopping the conversation quickly in such a risky location. Your eyes darted past him to the kitchen table where your children were munching away happily, clueless. You looked back at him, “I don’t want to talk about this. Especially not right now.”

Then you slipped away from him and through the doorway into the adjacent dining room. Andrew and Jennifer were already sitting at the set dining room table, diagonally from each other, and your husband pulled out your chair for you beside his with a smile. You sat down with a quiet thanks to him and George joined you and took his spot across from Andrew, his eyes lingering on you with uncertainty. 

The side dishes were lined in the centre of the table and you all passed around the bowls and helped yourselves to the servings over casual chatter. You stayed quieter than usual, picking at the food on your plate as you tried to keep your nausea at bay - the cause being your newly discovered pregnancy but also the guilt that never failed to turn your stomach and raise bile in your throat. Your fork nudged against a piece of macaroni salad as George shared a story from that week surrounding something cute that Nancy had done but you were barely listening. Instead, you stared at your plate and took the smallest bites known to man, silently praying - as you constantly had been all week - for a brown eyed baby. In reality, you knew that the likelihood of that was not in your favour. 

The sudden feeling of your mouth dampening had you setting your fork down onto your plate with a shaky, “Excuse me a moment.” 

Andrew watched as you got up quickly from your chair, your napkin falling to the floor, and you disappeared out of the dining room. Your guests sat, startled, as your footsteps hurried up the stairs to the second floor followed by a dull thud of your door closing. 

You dropped to your knees in front of the toilet just in time to throw up into it, your hands gripping the sides of the bowl as the cool tile stung against your knees. Tears burning your eyes and you shut them tightly as you slowly wiped your lips with the back of your trembling hand, sniffling back your regretful sorrow. The soft knock at the bathroom door had you flushing the toilet before answering with a faint acknowledgment. You had half hoped it was George - but why would it have been? - although Andrew slipping inside the bathroom with you shouldn’t have been that much of a surprise. 

“Hey.” he cooed, crouching onto the ground with you and he pulled your hair out of your face and away from your flushed skin, “You okay, my love?” 

You sniffled and slouched against the toilet, “No.”

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.” he kissed your temple and then carefully helped you to your feet and over to the sink. Like he always had done when you were pregnant with Richard, he wiped your mouth with a cool damp cloth and brushed your tangled hair for you as you rested lazily against the vanity. 

“It’s so embarrassing.” you mumbled. 

“Hm?��� Andrew encouraged as he finished with your hair, fluffing the soft curls over your shoulders. 

“We have guests and I just ran away from the table to puke. That’s so embarrassing.” 

Andrew smiled softly as you leaned back against his chest and he tucked your hair behind your ear so he could kiss your cheek, “I’m sure they understand.” 

A slight panic hinted at your voice, “You didn’t tell them, did you?” 

“No. Although I’m thinking we should.”

“No.” you answered quickly. 

Staring at each other through the mirror, his arm around your middle and his hand rested over your stomach, Andrew questioned, “Why not? Now seems like a perfect time.”

You couldn’t think of a valid excuse that wouldn’t completely give you away. You merely shrugged. 

“Don’t be embarrassed, sugar.” Andrew reassured you with a warm smile, “They have two kids of their own, after all. I’m sure they’ll be happy for us. Besides, maybe now Nancy can have a playmate.”

Oh yes, you thought to yourself, George is going to be just so happy. This whole situation just screamed ‘happy’. 

Back in the dining room, you and Andrew returned to your seats and you offered a soft apology to your guests over your sudden disappearance. 

“Are you alright?” George asked politely, his wife at his side watching you worriedly, both of them full of friendly compassion. 

You pulled a tight smile and a curt nod as you picked up your fork again, “Fine.” 

You couldn’t look at him. You knew that if you did, you would be sent to vomit again by the hellscape of emotions that swirled around your mind. But Andrew had a different plan as he set his hand on top of yours on the table and he looked over at you as if asking for your permission to speak. You didn’t move, eyes downcast to your plate, played off effortlessly as shyness. 

“We actually have some news we want to share.” Andrew announced to your guests. 

The children in the adjacent kitchen laughed and chatted loudly, the sounds of their joy echoing around in your mind, stirring stresses of how much their lives could be affected by this simple announcement. Nothing felt simple anymore. 

George shifted in his chair as if he knew something was going on - something not quite right. He speared another bite of his dinner with his fork without taking his attention away from Andrew’s accidentally dramatic pause while his wife continued to eat, unfazed, at his side. Andrew gave your hand a squeeze and your mouth felt dry, blood gone cold, and your breath was held in your lungs. 

Your husband looked at your guests with that soft smile of his, “We’re expecting.” 

As Jennifer swooned with celebratory congratulations, the noise of the room fell into echoing silence as you finally looked up from your plate and your gaze instantly magnetized to the man sitting diagonally across from you. George was already staring at you, his handsome face fallen in stricken shock. Your internal thoughts settled heavily on your conscious, realization that the choices you shared were the sole cause of this announcement that was feigned at joy by your spouses. 

You only had to glance at George to see it all over his face. 

He knew it too. 

THE END

Taglist: @wetforwolff @thef1diary @nikfigueiredo @ming-h0e @minkyungseokie @dark-night-sky-99 @woozarts @likedbygaslyy @saachiep81 @voidsfics

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#george russell x reader #george russell imagine #george russell smut #george russell fanfic #george russell fluff #george russell #gr63 #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x oc #f1 imagine #f1 one shot #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 x oc #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 smut #formula 1 fanfic #george russell au #f1 au #formula 1 au

[strawberrysodaslut]

idk if you can do this but can you do a poly!marauders x gn!reader, and the boys’ reactions when yn wears a binder one day.

i'm not trans nor have i ever worn a binder, so i hope this is an accurate portrayal!! feel free to correct me on anything i've messed up.

Getting a binder was a long time coming. After months of research, hesitations and all the time spent waiting, going to the store and getting one, you never thought wearing something to bind would make you feel so damn free. Finally, understanding what people meant when you heard about gender euphoria.

You hadn’t told the boys about your latest purchase. In fact, you hadn’t brought up the concept to them. Not that they hadn’t been supportive of you, they really were. In a world of magic, pronouns were something that hardly needed grasping, and they would correct anyone who messed up politely, sending you a soft smile as they did. But- you couldn’t help but be anxious about them finding out. What if this was too much? What if they get freaked out?

So, you kept your binder to yourself.

At first, you didn’t think they had noticed. You wore looser clothes or sports bras earlier, so it probably wasn’t as big of a difference to others. It wasn’t until dinner that night where you noticed Sirius staring at you from across the table.

“What?” You said, chomping down on a bread roll to hide the way self conciousness ebbed in your chest.

Sirius squinted his eyes, looking like James when he tries to read without his glasses. “You look different.” He says. “Did you do something to your face?”

James laughs from next to you. “Did they do something to their face? What kind of question is that, Padfoot?”

“Well, I don’t know!” Sirius exclaims, “Admit it though Prongs, something about them is different!”

You find it hard to not instinctively crawl under the table to hide. So you curl in on yourself, pressing your chin to your chest to calm the heat across your cheeks. As if he can sense your anxiety, Remus places his hand on your shoulder.

“Guys stop.” He says, light concern lacing his voice, but he’s clearly trying to hide it. “Obviously they’re just relaxed now that the holidays are coming, isn’t that right?” He says to you, giving you a slight smirk and raise of his eyebrows that only happen during his most devious pranks. ‘go with this’, he silently urges you.

You smile, nodding your head. “Yeah, I’m glad classes are almost over.”

“Well,” Sirius starts, “We should have holidays more often then. Haven’t seen you this confident in- I don’t even know.”

“I’ll start the petition!” James pipes.

You smile, glad to be supported by your boys, but still relieved that your secret remains yours.

Little did you know later that night, the boys had a plan to throw a movie night with you in the common room. So at nighttime, when you had changed out of your binder so you wouldn’t sleep in it, James surprised you by barging into your room.

“Oi! It’s movie time- oh sorry.” James said, cutting himself off to cover his eyes as you put on your sweatshirt.

Remus followed him, quickly closing his eyes and turning around when he saw you, “Jeez Prongs! They’re changing!” He scolded.

“I know! That’s why I’m…” He trails off, gesturing to the hand that’s covering his eye- going completely unnoticed to Remus with his eyes shut tight.

You shake your head, a soft giggle escaping from your lips. God, they’re dramatic. “It’s okay guys, don’t stress.” You throw your sweatshirt over your head. “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

James makes a soft grunt, before removing the hand from his eyes and taking you in. “Well, sorry again.” He says. His eyes slowly drift behind you to something on your bed, and tilts his head. “Hey what’s that?”

You almost jump, turning behind you to see your binder laid out on your bed, ready to be put away. You shudder a deep breath before trying your best to gesture nonchalantly. “It’s uh-” It’s hard not to cringe at how your voice trembles. Okay, nonchalant isn’t working. So you instead opt to be candid. “It’s my binder.”

James looks between you and the binder, his brows furrowed. “Binder…?” He questions before his eyes go wide. He paces towards you in a frenzy. “You’re not binding your magic, are you? Listen, you shoul-”

A giggle almost slips out again as you interrupt him before he explodes, “No Prongs! It’s for my chest. It binds my chest.”

Despite the reassurance that no, you were not binding your magic, James doesn’t look any less confused. If anything, he looked even more. “Why would you want to bind your chest?” He asks, his brows furrowing as he makes his way from you to the binder.

Candid, you remind yourself. You’re being candid. “So it would be flatter.” You say.

A beat passes before James replies, still looking down at the material.

“Oh.” “Oh?” You ask. Your heart thumping in your chest with anticipation.

He makes a small squeak as he turns back to you, “I-I just didn’t realise that was something you worried about.” He says, his voice sympathetic but laced with concern. “It’s not…” He pauses, “Is this where we’re supposed to say something to make you feel better? Because you don’t have to do that for other people you know...”

“No, I get that.” You say, a small smile making its way to your face. “This isn’t for other people, it’s for me. I’m more comfortable with myself when I wear it.” You gesture to the binder, as if it hasn’t been the subject of the past couple of minutes.

With that, James’ whole demeanour changes. The tension in his body disappears as he smiles wide. “Well then, we’re thrilled for you. Aren’t we moony?” He says, nudging Remus who has just been staring at you since the conversation started.

As if he has just awoken from a nap, Remus startles to attention. “Oh- uh yes! I’m supportive of whatever you choose as long as you're happy.” Remus replies, smiling at you before chuckling “Sorry it’s just- I knew that’s what was different.”

“You staring at their chest are you?” James teases Remus. “Perv.”

“No! I-” He exclaims, a red tint painting his face.

You smile at him, about to reassure the boy, when a crashing sound comes from downstairs before a yell echoes through the hallway. Remus mutters a small ‘fuck’s sake’ as the cause of the noise comes bounding towards your room.

“Sorry gentlemen- gender neutral, of course. The popcorn has burned.” Sirius announces before he’s entered the room, reeking of burnt popcorn with a few pieces lodged in his hair. Sharing James’ nosiness, his eyes quickly fixate on your binder. “Hey, what’s that?”

James scoffs before turning to Sirius. “It’s a binder, Padfoot, and they’re very happy.” He says with pride, his chin lifting. “Catch up.”

Remus’ attention, however, has drifted away from the binder and he asks the real important question, “How the hell do you burn magic popcorn?”

Sirius jumps to the defensive, “Hey! I’m the one who told you not to put me in charge of food!” He says, throwing his hands up. “I’m obviously more suited to the pillow gathering region.”

With a dictionary worth of swear words, Remus stomps down the hall to make some unburnt popcorn. James quickly following behind, arguing why him being the pillow gatherer was the best choice.

With Sirius and you alone, he turns to you. “Hey, it’s cool that you have that now. Reg used to use one a while ago.” He says, before grabbing your hand, “Now, let’s watch some movies on a subpar pillow arrangement.”

You laugh as you both go to follow the other two boys. “Sounds good.” You say, feeling more secure with them than ever. Your binder sitting blissfully on your bed, ready to be used again tomorrow.

poly marauders masterlist

#marauders #harry potter #poly!maraduers #marauders x reader #poly!marauders x reader #marauders fluff #marauders x y/n #marauder x you #marauders fanfic #sirius black x reader #james potter x reader #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin fluff #james potter fluff #sirius black fluff

[dduane]

What are your thoughts on companies like this that offer 'coaching services' for hopeful unpublished novelists?

This smells of scam to me but maybe I'm just a cynic:

Publishing Your Book

Query Letter Coaching/Editing – $550 per book (this includes two passes)

Synopsis Coaching & Editing – $750 per book (this includes two passes)

Proposal Coaching & Editing – $1,500 per book

Traditional Publishing Coaching – $200/hour (finding an agent, crafting your proposal, etc.)

Indie Publishing – $1000 (distribution to all platforms for optimal international exposure, guidance on pricing, blurb-writing, logistics, and keywords)

ISBNs for Indie Publishing – $150 per book format. Free if publishing through [the company selling these coaching services]

Briefly: before I got involved with any such operation, I'd want to talk to (multiple) people they'd worked with previously and find out what kinds of experiences they'd had. And in line with this, I'd be extremely cautious about any operation that wasn't run by professionals with a verifiable track record, and which wouldn't offer verifiable examples of feedback from people whose reality as non-sockpuppets could also be confirmed. And whom you could contact without having to go through the company in question.

On other issues: I'm looking kind of askance at some of those prices. (Here adding the disclaimer: I know people who do this kind of work out of a grounding of significant expertise and in good faith, and I'm not clear on what they're charging because I haven't really looked into it... not particularly needing it myself at this late stage in the game.)

At least part of the problem I'm having with the prices being charged in your example is based on the knowledge of how very much information of this kind is available free online. And yeah, there's the old chestnut about "The advice is worth what you've paid for it"... but that has sort of an unspoken negative corollary: "Except when you've paid for it and it nonetheless turns out not to have been worth much."

The trouble with the non-independent-publishing suggestions is that all of them deal with imponderables. Even if all the advice you purchase from those people at all those varied prices is absolutely right on the money, there's still no way to guarantee that any of it is going to lead to success in getting query letters, synopses or proposals actually looked at. Which puts this whole concept squarely in the nature of a gamble.

Not that luck doesn't have a role to play in a professional writing career. Sometimes you're just standing in the right place at the right time with a manuscript in your hands. But getting the idea that you can depend on that luck for any reason is unwise... as divine Fortuna is anciently famous for wandering all over the room, blowing on other folks' dice. (And if this makes me sound like I fall well down on the "Fortune Favors The Prepared" end of the spectrum: yeah, that.)

My advice would be to spend a good long while online, thoroughly researching all the free sites that have info to offer on all the traditional-publishing-facing topics. Then, after exhausting the available possibilities, if you still think you need to engage paid professional assistance... make inquiries among as many verifiable professionals as you can non-invasively query, before parting with any money at all.

As regards the indie-oriented fees: I'm finding those pretty steep. The prices for ISBNs in particular bother me. (Especially since in many places you can routinely buy packages of ten for about what these folks would charge you for two.) Yes, they're free if you publish with them: that sounds lovely. But publishers would normally buy many of those packages of ten. Or packages of a hundred: the more ISBNs you buy at once, the cheaper they get. And if you're paying the company for other services, who cares about the ISBNs? They're making money off you in different ways. Possibly equally overpriced ones.

So to finish: this is very much caveat emptor territory. There will inevitably be scammers out there, claiming their rates to be less than "bigger companies" are charging, but still too much. Therefore... advance only with utmost care.

...And adding this: @petermorwood glanced at the price list over my shoulder and said, "I wouldn't touch any of those with a barge pole."

At any rate: HTH!

...And now a word regarding our regrettably fickle non-sponsor, via Ol' Blue Eyes. :)

#writing #writing advice #paying for breaking-in coaching #writing meta

[pockettwinzz]

My Heaven - S.JY

୨୧ Warnings ୨୧ : Fluff, Angst, Toxic parents, Kissing, SFW, not proofread

୨୧ A/N ୨୧ : wrote this in a haste cause i really wanted to release smth for the weekend so I apologize if it's bad :3. Also enhypen's releasing a new version of dark moon ><

୨୧ Word count ୨୧ : 1.7k

As you sat in your new college classroom, your mind drifted away from the mundane lecture on ancient history. You couldn't help but wonder how the rest of your college experience would turn out. With your perfect 4.0 GPA from high school, you had been accepted into one of the most prestigious universities in the country. However, even though you had been top of your class and had received countless awards and accolades, it seemed that your parents were never truly happy with you. They constantly pressured you to study even harder and to strive for even greater heights.

Meanwhile, Jake, who had coasted through high school with mediocre grades and minimal effort, had been welcomed into this new university with open arms. Everyone seemed to love him, and he was constantly surrounded by a group of friends. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy as you watched him laugh and joke with them during the break.

As the semester progressed, you found yourself struggling to keep up with the workload. Your classes were more challenging than you had anticipated, and the constant pressure from your parents only made matters worse. You often found yourself staying up late into the night, hunched over your books, tears streaming down your face as you tried to understand the complex concepts and theories.

Life wasn't going how you wanted it too and seeing others, mostly Jake, sucked up to the professors, get high grades without much effort made you feel even worse. You didn't understand why your parents always thought you were useless. You tried to talk to them about it, to tell them that you were doing your best, but they never listened. They just kept pushing you harder, telling you that you could do better. You started to lose hope, to feel like you were drowning in a sea of academic expectations.

You never knew when it happened, maybe when Jake stole the first position, or maybe when he scored more marks from you on that one chemistry practical, but it was safe to say you hate him. You hated him for being so perfect, for being so loved, for being able to do everything effortlessly while you had to work your ass off to get even a B. You hated him for making your life miserable, for making you feel like you were never good enough, for making you feel like you were nothing but a burden to your parents.

One day, after yet another grueling exam, you decided that you'd had enough. You couldn't take it anymore. You walked up to Jake in the hallway, your hands shaking with anger and frustration. "Why do you get everything so easy?" you demanded, your voice quivering with emotion. "Why does everyone love you and hate me?"

Jake looked taken aback by your outburst, his perfect features twisting into a frown. "What?".

"Why does it always have to be like this?" you cried, your voice cracking. "Why does everyone always love you and hate me? I just want to be normal, just once!" You felt like you were about to burst, like all of the anger and frustration you'd been feeling for so long was building up inside of you, ready to explode. You didn't know why you were telling Jake any of this, but you couldn't help it. You needed someone to understand.

Jake hesitated for a moment, seeming unsure of how to respond. Finally, he took a step closer to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. "Look, I get it," he said softly. "It's hard sometimes, trying to live up to everyone's expectations. But you know what? You're amazing. You're smart, and talented, and you've got so much to offer. You just need to believe in yourself, okay?"

"Shut up" you snapped, shrugging his hand off your shoulder. "You don't understand anything. You've never had to struggle, never had to fight for anything." You turned away from him, anger and hurt burning in your chest. "Stop pretending to be so nice. I hate it, I hate you"

Jake let out a sigh, looking genuinely hurt. "I'm sorry if I've ever done anything to make you feel that way," he said quietly.

You turned back to him, tears streaming down your face. "It's not just you," you sobbed. "It's everyone. I'm just so tired of feeling like I'm never good enough. I'm tired of feeling like a burden." Jake's expression softened, and he reached out to wipe away a tear from your cheek.

"You're not a burden," he said gently. "And you are good enough. You're more than good enough. You just need to remember that." He hesitated for a moment, then took a deep breath. "And you know what? If it means that much to you, I'll help you. I'll help you get through this."

You looked up at him, surprised by his offer. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you want me to help you, I will. I'll study with you, or whatever you need. We can work together to get through this," Jake explained, his voice firm but gentle. "Because you're right, it's not fair. You are good enough, and you deserve to be happy. You deserve to have people believe in you."

You felt a strange sensation in your chest, like a warmth spreading through you. You didn't quite understand it, but it was nice. It was nice to feel like someone actually cared. "Really?" you asked, looking up at him. "You'd really help me?"

Jake nodded, his expression sincere. "Yeah, of course I would. We're friends, aren't we? Besides, it's not like I've got everything easy. I've just learned how to deal with it."

As tensions began to ease between you, Jake started to show you a different side of himself. He'd always been considerate and caring, but now those qualities seemed to shine brighter than ever before. He'd listen intently when you spoke, offering thoughtful advice and encouragement. He'd laugh at your jokes, even when they weren't funny, and he'd make an effort to include you in group activities. You began to feel a warmth in your chest whenever he was around.

One day, as you studied together in the library, you noticed Jake looking at you in a way that made your heart skip a beat. His eyes seemed to hold an intensity that you'd never seen before, and it made you feel both nervous and excited at the same time. As you spoke, he'd occasionally glance at you, a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. It was then that you realized, with a start, that you were in love with him.

Over the next few weeks, your friendship blossomed into something deeper. The way Jake treated you, with respect and admiration, made you feel like the most special person in the world. You found yourself looking forward to spending time with him, just talking or watching a movie. The gentle way he touched your hand when he passed you a pen or the way he'd tease you about your favorite TV shows only served to intensify the feelings you had for him.

One evening, as you studied together in his room, the lights were low and the only sound was the soft rustling of pages. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn't even notice how close Jake was sitting to you. You were acutely aware of his presence, of the way his shoulder brushed against yours every time he reached for a pen or turned a page. The air between you seemed to crackle with an electricity that you couldn't quite explain.

As the night wore on, you found yourself glancing up at him more and more often, studying the lines of his face, the way his hair fell across his forehead, the way his lips moved as he spoke. You felt your heart race every time he looked at you, and you could swear that there was something different in his eyes. Something warm and intense.

You tried to concentrate on your work, but your mind kept wandering, drifting back to the way he'd been acting. You wondered if he felt the same way about you. You wondered what he would do if you confessed your feelings. A part of you was terrified of ruining your friendship, but another part of you longed for something more. Something deep and lasting. Something real.

"J-jake," you stammer, your voice barely audible over the thunder of your heart. "I-I love you." The words hang in the air between you, heavy and palpable, as if they've been weighing on your chest for far too long. You feel your face flush with embarrassment, but at the same time, there's a strange sense of relief in finally getting the words out.

Jake goes still, his eyes widening in surprise. He hesitates for a moment, searching your face, before exhaling softly and leaning in closer. His lips meet yours, tentatively at first, but with a growing intensity that takes your breath away. You can feel the heat of his body pressed against yours, his hands gently cupping your cheeks as he deepens the kiss.

The world around you fades away as you lose yourself in the sensation of being connected to him. His taste, his smell, the feel of his skin against yours—it's all so familiar and yet so new at the same time. You moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck, wanting more of him.

Jake responds eagerly, deepening the kiss even further. His tongue dances with yours, teasing and exploring, sending shivers down your spine. You can feel the passion building inside of you, a warmth spreading through your entire body. You never knew you could feel this way about someone, this alive, this desired.

As you break away from the kiss, your eyes meet his, and you see the love reflected there. It's a look of wonder and awe, as if he can't quite believe how lucky he is to be sharing this moment with you. He trails his fingers down your cheek, over your jawline, and to your lips again, this time softly tracing their outline.

"I love you too, Yn," he whispers. "I've loved you for a long time."

Your heart soars at his words, and you feel a newfound sense of joy and security wash over you. You realize that this is what you've always wanted, to be truly loved and cherished by someone as wonderful as Jake. You lean in and kiss him again, this time with more passion and longing, as if you could never get enough of his lips on yours.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡Permanent Taglist ༘˚⋆𐙚｡ @cha-eui @alvojake @heeslut4life @wondipity @dollywons @wonlvkay

{reply or send ask to be added Minors + blogs w/o ages DNI}

#enhypen #pockettwinzz writes #enha x reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x female reader #enhypen jake #jake sim #enhypen fluff #sim jaeyun #sim jake x reader #jake x reader #jake x y/n #jake fluff #jake fanfic #jake angst #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fanfic #dividers by dollywons #moodboards by pockettwinzz #sfw

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

I just came up with this idea and I felt like sharing it with someone, so if this is not the place to do so you can freely ignore this message

So by the concept of the creator just being a player controlling the other characters and being seen as a deity by just their presence in the game, I wonder how many of the characters would react at the sudden disappearance of their god only to see another person taking the lead for them?

Since your friend decided to abandon their genshin account, she decided to give it to you instead to keep it as long as you liked to, now you being the one to play instead and take care of everything around as they can only watch how the original owners all mighty presence was suddenly exchanged with this new person.

Ohhhh that's interesting honestly.

I probably would assume that most wouldn't notice, especially if the previous player had monthly breaks at times (like me lol). Like maybe the mains would notice it way quicker because either they're changed to a benched character or can tell from the movement inputs not being the same at all.

It definitely would fuck with a lot of characters' heads, especially those who don't know what is going on but just see the obtained characters go absolutely batshit insane.

Can definitely see them trying to be uncooperative, but the programming (or "divine energy" I guess) is too strong for them to fight against. The only way they could is to refuse to crit.

Though I can see that as some time passes they eventually get over it, I mean as long as someone is playing the game they don't have to worry about their world potentially going into ruin because the account was dead. Though the old mains are still gonna be salty even if they're mostly fine.

#sagau #genshin sagau #others ideas

[beautifulpersonpeach]

Not gonna lie, this whole thing really sucks. I think I wrote a message awhile back about the very cool feminist angle of the Plus Global Auditions Invitation video, I'm an SNL Army and was new to watching kpop very closely and was so sold by that video. I thought - 'this company is really different.' Going public with a company f*cks a lot of things up, it happens all so often, and often it's the people and the ethos that gets messed up the most. It's frustrating to see this devolution. Because I was really excited by what MHJ was being given space to do at BH/Hybe. Though, as a fellow art school student, I am shaking my head and serious side-eyes at how she says things like 'I'm an artist, I don't know how to read contracts' (obviously I'm paraphrasing) - it's clear Hybe knows she's got the goods but she's not playing by their game anymore. The response and flood of crazy comments and hate at BTS is frustrating but expected, but just such a waste of time all the same. I've also never thought BH and then Hybe were super super smart and long-gaming everything (don't come for me Bangtan U fans) I think they were lucky and scrappy and skillful and making cool things happen moment to moment. Later on they got better at the strategic planning, sure. I don't know. They may need a good kick in the pants to remember that's what makes them great at what they do. But still, I hate the idea of MHJ being cooked even if she seems like a real pain in the tush to work with. Because technically, she's what got me to really buy-in to what BTS & BH were doing in the first place.

***

Yeah, it's a shitty situation.

To be fair, I think at the start, Bang PD was trying to do something different and 'forward-thinking' with HYBE. He sought out good talent going by the hires he did in 2019/2020, managing to onboard creatives like Min Heejin and Zico. Zico already incorporated his company to manage himself before Bang PD approached him, which is probably why he owns ~24.5% of KOZ - his sub-label in HYBE.

But with Min Heejin...

She had partnered with 250 - a popular DJ in Korea and NewJeans' main producer, since she left SM in 2018. He runs BANA (a creative collective) but she'd wanted her own label since the start.

Bang PD knew this, and wanted her for HYBE, so it's likely he made all sorts of promises to get her on board without awarding her a single share. Almost as soon as key creative decisions had to be made post-Global Plus audition, they both clashed, but HYBE as a company was less than 1 year old and it appears Bang PD and MHJ still had good relations... which was kinda easy since he still needed her creative output and wanted to see what she could do. So they let her make her own label: ADOR, and keep NewJeans even though according to Min Heejin, HYBE executives and Bang PD thought her concept and style of music for them would be impossible to sell to k-pop stans.

They expected NewJeans to fail or flounder. Instead, by 2023 NewJeans had become one of the top 5 most valuable k-pop IPs in Korea. If my guess is right, by that point she had no shares in ADOR, no agreement with HYBE's indefinite non-compete clause. She could walk anytime and I'm sure a lot of people wanted her.

Then HYBE approached Min Heejin with the shareholder contract to give her 20% of the company. It's a classic 'carrot and stick'. The carrot was easy to see. Apparently offered her the shares at a very low price, apparently Bang PD even lent her the money to buy it, for a valuation that HYBE considered more than generous, he was in her KakaoTalk chats buttering her up with those godawful emojis lmaooo. He was selling that shit hard. The stick in the contract was the poison pill which essentially tied her to HYBE for as long as they want her.

Perhaps she was aware of the pill and signed any way because at that point they still had good relations with Bang PD and HYBE in general. But according to her, Bang PD kept wanting more control over NewJeans the more successful the group became. Realizing she had to do something about the poison pill, she sought to negotiate, and as is typical in these sort of situations, you fight greed with more greed.

Asking to bump up the multiple on the options from 13x to 30x is frankly ridiculous. For a male CEO I can see it being considered... maybe, but for a woman? In Korea?

I'm sure when the other suits at HYBE heard that's what she was asking, at least one of them almost had a stroke. The logic is simple though: start crazy high and end.. just high. If HYBE was looking to exert more control over NewJeans (for example, every sub-label and group in HYBE changed to using 'bio-paper and ink' for their albums starting in 2023, to help HYBE meet their ESG targets. The only company that's not made the switch yet, is ADOR. Given how carefully MHJ controls branding and album design for NewJeans, I can see this minute detail being a massive thorn lol)... anyway, if HYBE was indeed looking to gain more control, the fact that they'd have to pay 30x if MHJ exercised her options on a whim, would serve as a very strong deterrent.

Given what I understand Korean corporate culture to be like, I doubt she had any friends in upper management to start, but with a demand like that, practically all of them would turn enemies in a heartbeat. It's the sheer audacity lmao. My guess is she would've eventually negotiated down, at least once she was assured real creative independence from Bang PD. But at some point, rather, quite predictably given this is corporate Korea, the need for control and the egos involved decided she had to be cut loose now and perhaps taught to not bite the hand that feeds her.

It's not a sentiment limited to the suits at HYBE. It's followed her since SM and the general public would hate it too, which is one reason I think it's only a matter of time before the narrative switches again to HYBE's favour. I promise you, most regular men in Korea would go red in the face, eyes bulging out their heads, drool and spit shooting out like projectiles, at the thought she would dare to demand such a thing. And in a way they'd be right. It's an insane amount of money for female creative in Korea, but I think given everything else, it also seems like a gamble she was taking as a means to an end. A simple negotiating tactic, given what she keeps highlighting as her main goal - unimpeded and full creative and managerial control.

Bang PD wants to build a 'forward-thinking' company comparable to Western conglomerate juggernauts like SONY and Warner Music, but I don't think these Korean men have the chops to do it right, just yet. I've had that impression of Bang PD for a few years now. He's been getting results, but they are inconsistent and he's got the biggest 'surety' in a sense with BTS, so he's been fine, and will continue to be fine for a few more years at least. But if they are messing up this spectacularly with their first female executive and one of their most valuable IPs, over... an options price negotiation?

And they want to pretend to be better than any other corp in Korea?

Lol.

Anyhoo.

I sympathize a bit with how you feel, but as a Korean woman, I guess I'm numb to it. There's a reason I've never chosen to work in that country, there's a reason why the birth rate is nearing the negatives. It's really unfortunate, and I'm sorry you're seeing a prior expectation you had getting blown up this way. And this latest hatefest on BTS has been quite ugly and isn't near done yet. This whole situation is gross, and even more so when the motivations behind it are so... banal and backwards.

But these are undercurrents that are too simple and boring for the average stan. Burning the witch who is responsible for masterminding the demise of a virtuous group is far more exciting. And so that's how the story will go.

I just hope that by some miracle, NewJeans turns out okay and manages to thrive after this. Because in all of this mess, they will deal with the implications the most and for the longest time.

#newjeans #ador #min heejin #bang pd #hybe #kpop

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

I read a fanfic that was a supernatural crossover with another series, but I found it interesting that in the concept of the fanfic the Winchester sister was grieving after Sam dies at the end of season 5 and felt like she didn't fit in with Lisa and Ben, what do you think of this? I feel that it is very accurate when the Winchester sister is written as being more attached to Dean since she is basically like her father, I mean, in the same fanfic, in the protagonist's narration she says that she left because she knows that if she asks him to , Dean would leave Lisa and Ben and the protagonist wants Dean to have a family after all the shit that's happened, even if she doesn't fit into his "happy family" which I think is also very accurate. What do you think? How do you think the little sister would take "Dean's new family" and Sam's loss?

I might have read that one actually, and I think you’re right. The sister being closer to Dean would make sense, especially since Sam left for a couple of years, that would have been an even bigger deal for the little sister, who was growing up during that time.

And it totally makes sense for her to feel out of place with Lisa and Ben; she was raised by Dean, but it would be hard to turn that into somehow fitting into his family with Lisa and Ben. I think the little sister would be so happy for him, and I also think that if she asked, he’d pick her over them; but she’d never ask.

There seems to be this thing with the Winchesters—if more than one of them are together, their life isn’t normal. They only ever have normal lives if they’re the only one left (ie Dean with Lisa and Ben or Sam with mystery woman at the end of the show). So with a little sister being alive I think his life with Lisa and Ben would be more complicated.

I think the little sister would try at first, for Dean. Sam jumped into the cage, and at first Dean and the little sister just got into the Impala and sat there for so long, with no idea where to go. Then the little sister would look at Dean, and she’d know exactly what he needed even though he didn’t want to say it, because he wouldn’t think she wanted it. She’d tell him to go to Lisa, and he would listen, and for a little bit it would work—kinda. Dean would be getting happier and happier with his little family, but the little sister wouldn’t quite fit—Dean felt comfortable, he took on a “father/partner” role with Lisa and Ben. But the little Winchester wasn’t Ben’s sister, and she wasn’t Lisa’s kid—she wasn’t even technically Dean’s kid.

And on top of all that, she’s still grieving Sam. Even if she was closer to Dean, she still lost a big brother, and with Dean trying to fit into his own family, she’d start to feel like she lost two.

She would try, she really would, and I think depending on the personality of Dean’s little sister, they might actually make it work for the year—but it wouldn’t have lasted much longer. However, depending on her personality, she might give up much sooner—I have a feeling she would go to live with Bobby.

TLDR: the little sister definitely wouldn’t feel comfortable living in Lisa and Ben (and Dean’s) house, and she would struggle a lot with her grief of losing Sam mixed with her loss of connection with Dean. Dean would choose his sister over Lisa and Ben if he had to, but she would never, ever make him choose.

#dean winchester #the winchesters #dean and sam #dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester x you #winchesters x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #winchesters x sister

[annie-creates]

Life without you

Pairing: Abby Anderson x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 1000

Note: This is a cute little comfort fluffy fic.

With a heavy sigh you close the door of your small apartment in the Firefly base, shrugging your jacket off and placing your shoes by the door. The living room is quiet and dark, not even the kitchenette light left on. No wonder the place is vacant, it must be long past midnight at this point. Not having the energy to even eat you quickly brush your teeth changing into the pajamas you left in the bathroom this morning. You’re trying to keep quiet, not wanting to disturb the night peace of the place. Carefully you open the bedroom door, your girlfriends form steadily breathing on her side of bed.

You whine in pain as you sit on your side of the bed trying to relieve your tensed up muscles, the mattress dipping under your weight. With the many people who kept arriving at your camp, a lot of them needed your help as a doctor. Count in your regular patients and those who got hurt during patrols and hunting and you were overwhelmed with work. Sleep was a foreign concept to you at this point, your body running solely on caffeine and cold showers. The rare nights when you could take the time to actually go home and sleep you returned deep into the night and left before sunrise, hardy even having the time for a conversation with your girlfriend.

“Hi.” Comes from behind you and you feel the duvets shifting.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wake you up.” You apologize in a tender voice.

“You didn’t.” But it’s clearly not true. “A lot of work?”

“A crazy lot of work.” You admit crawling into bed, Abby offering her strong embrace to you. “I wouldn’t even wish upon anyone to see it.”

“That bad?” She chuckles amused.

“Nah, even worse.” Is all you say because the last thing you want to talk about when finally coming home is your never-ending work again.

Your mind goes back to a year ago when Abby joined the fireflies, needing your medical help herself. She was a much different person back then, hurt and skinny, but also guarded and insecure. She came out of her shell a lot over the time, being an amazing companion, endlessly supportive and caring. She always understood when you had too much work or needed her to reassure you in your skills. Her hair had grown out to a shot bob now and she built her muscles into a strong frame.

“When was the last time you slept?” She asks watching the dark bags under your beautiful eyes.

“Um, Monday? What day is it?” You answer unsure, your mind and eyes already too heavy to hold a meaningful conversation.

“Thursday.” From her vice it’s clear Abby doesn’t approve of this, but all she does is tighten her hold on you.

She carefully caresses your back and you play with her short hair. You told her how beautiful she’d look with it longer, but she’s adamant on not letting it grow longer than her collar bones. It’s practical, won’t get in her way in a fight, she always says, but you can see she has deeper reasons not to want long hair she’s not yet ready to share with you. As you’re falling into slumber, a harsh knock on the front door startles you awake.

“Really?” You complain under your breath getting up to open the door before your girlfriend can stop you.

You open the door to find the west group’s captain on the other side, tapping his foot impatiently. You can already guess where this is going, waving your sleep a goodbye in your head for another night. Sometimes it felt like the planet would stop turning and freeze over if you took just thirty minutes to have a break. You contemplate shutting the door in his face but you’re just not that kind of person, besides there could be an actual emergency needing your attention.

“What can I do for you?” You offer instead.

“I need you to come look at one of our guys, he got an arrow to his knee and…” He keeps rumbling.

“Do you know what time it is!?” shutting him up your girlfriend inserts herself into the door frame, her arms already folded over her broad chest in anger. “You have like ten other doctors to look after him, let this one have a night of sleep, Jesus Christ.”

“But he’s…” He tries to argue with her, not knowing it’s equivalent to signing your own death certificate.

“He’s not going to die till morning. For fucks sake.” Not letting him continue she shuts the door with a harsh swing. “You really need to learn how to say no sometimes.” She admonishes you being in a rage.

“Thank you, my knight in a shining armor.” It’s only half joke because you know deep down she’s right and people need to stop using you so much. “What would I do without you.”

“Die of sleep deprivation.” The look on her face is serious but you see it in her eyes she’s not actually mad at you.

Hugging her neck you give her a loving kiss, content you might actually get some sleep in tonight now. She picks you up forcing you to hang your lets around her waist and carries you back to bed, wrapping herself around you like a snake to stop you from getting up again and also because she loves your affection and scent. It wasn’t hard to get sleepy again in her warm embrace full of love and care.

“Now sleep.” She commands you and you have no intention to disobey her.

Sometimes you really didn’t know what you’d do without her, but she felt equally lost in the world without you. She couldn’t let you get yourself hurt one way or another, partly because she wouldn’t know what to do with herself if you weren’t by her side. At this point she couldn’t imagine her life without you.

#abby anderson comfort #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #abby anderson #abby the last of us #abby tlou #the last of us #the last of us part 2 #tlou #tlou2 #tlou abby #abby anderson tlou2

[flowercrowngods]

thoughts thoughts thoughts i apologise it’s 2am i have to sorry @babyboymunson

Steve knows that Eddie has a whole library of characters. And when he says library, that’s not an understatement; because Eddie has a lot of them, and he keeps all his characters sheets incredibly organised. Even those for the NPCs.

He claims not to have favourites because, “They’re all my badass little idiot children, Stevie, don’t make me choose.”

So Steve doesn’t.

But the thing is, Steve has never been above choosing a favourite badass little idiot child — sure, it might have changed daily with the kids, but still! He has a favourite character of Eddie’s. One who survived the campaign, actually, to everyone’s utter disbelief both past and present.

It’s one of Eddie’s first, from before he started taking on the role as Dungeon Master more often than that of a player.

And when Steve first finds out about the character, reads his character sheet and sees the art Eddie had made for him, that is when he knows: one day he’ll find a way to marry this blushing disaster boy.

Sir Gonthar Veten, a human paladin with high charisma and uncharacteristically low strength, laughably low intelligence but hey, respectable wisdom modifier. “A bit of a wild card,” as Eddie has put it, pulling his hair in front of his face to hide his little smile or the absolutely besotted expression.

It doesn’t take him too long to find out that Gonthar is essentially based on him, and even his name is an anagram. Oh, Eddie had it bad! He teases him mercilessly, but they both know that’s Steve’s way of saying, “You nerd, you absolute nerd, I can’t believe it took me so long, but know that you’re the love of my life, too.”

So, in 1983, Eddie has a crush on Steve and is so mad about it, he made a DnD character about it.

In 1986, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time inside his new government-sponsored trailer and begins what will be the rest of his life.

In 2006, Steve buys Eddie a star for their anniversary, and Eddie laughs through the veil of tears when he sees what Steve named it.

“Sir Gonthar Veten,” he reads, grin so wide that it has to hurt. “Can’t believe you went and named a star after yourself, Stevie.”

“Yeah,” Steve laughs, stepping into Eddie’s space and pulling him close. “Yeah, that’s exactly what I did, Munson.”

“You’re so lame,” Eddie sniffles, and it’s the happiest little sound. “Thank you.”

Steve brushes a kiss to his forehead, his temple, his cheek, and finally his lips. “Happy anniversary, Eddie.”

#steddie #steddie fic #this is like all over the place but i just had to get the concept out someone else can go make it good and better #just eddie having an unattainable crush on steve and projecting onto dnd like we all don’t do the same with our blorbos okay #they’re in love your honour #dio words #buying stars probably wasn’t even a thing in 1996 but let me have this #nvm i made it 2006 now but like i’ll give this proper thought when it’s not 2:30am #dio’s steddie ramblings

[bodegacat-withboots]

The way Noah just wishes for Will’s happiness in every interview. For him to engage in his hobbies and his passion. I know he’ll fight the Duffer brothers for me.

#byler #byeler #will byers #noah schnapp #and he’s also always mentioning he gets married #like for me marriage is such a foreigner concept I lowkey had to give up bc I was queer #and he’s just like no he’ll definitely find someone and have just a normal life #this is all over the place and really dumb but yea it just speaks to me

[sysig]

Hm ok what's your favorite or a really cool worlbuilding thing you've done? For any fandom or original or even an unimplemented idea

Hmm well at least in the past decade, my big worldbuilding projects have mostly come down to three-ish stories: Other Side of the Gun, Adventures of Gæilo and Ethon, and Just Desserts

OSG was an Invader ZiM fancomic concept I started around 2013 to justify every single Irken headcanon I ever came up with lol - I never finished it, or even really started it, but I put a lot of time and energy into its roughs back in the day :)

^A stick figure recap of Ch. 1, inspired by - what else - the Vargas stick figure recaps lol

One that you can see over here is all the work I did for my DnD campaign, AGE! (Though its sideblog hasn't been updated in a while haha - the AGE tag over here works just as well) I basically homebrewed a pantheon and had an absolute blast designing all the gods and their forms before they became gods and even things like architectural differences in their churches and the BBEG and his motivations and just ah <3 Such a fun project :D

It also laid the groundwork for things like Pokemon Homestyle, specifically all my papercrafts! You can really see how I leveled up haha

And my latest has been Just Desserts! Even with less time under its belt, it's still pretty expansive, as evidenced by my icon and theme and the backlog lol, and it's the one I have the most AUs of! (Though OSG does come close actually haha) There are still some thorny details I'm trying to iron out, especially to do with the magic system, but all the characters and creatures and the fact that I made my own fighting minigame, ah, pleased! I've never been so happy with a sona before Charm! ♥ From the very beginning it's been so fun to work on and I still want to improve!

#Long post #There have been others of course - things like BunBonBop and TMatM and quite a handful of original species lol #I was also involved in an IZRP that got very in depth which is where Bar comes from actually! #As well as my brief stint into being a TGWDLM askblog lol soz to everyone over there ouq #And little stories like Karera no Kotogara and Yanderapy but those mostly set in cartoon-reality y'know? #No magic or sci fi there haha #Man looking back through the OSG stuff kinda makes me wanna unstore Ch. 0 - I've grown a lot since then! #To the point where it almost doesn't feel ''mine'' anymore haha - it has been almost ten years! Maybe to celebrate its anniversary :) #Also yeah if you look hard enough I've been in love with and inspired by Vargas for as long as I've known about it haha #AGE was so much fun <3 I would like to get back to it someday but picking back up after so long is hard! #I still hold all of them fondly of course ♥ Mar especially since they were the tipping point for me loving spiders :D #It's hard to believe Just Desserts is already four years deep! It still feels so new to me haha #I know I big up Charm and her design a lot lol but for me it really is exactly what I want <3 It's my perfect :) #I still really want to get into 3D modeling to make her as I originally envisioned her! #If I had the funds I'd absolutely commission someone but tbh I don't know many names on that side of art haha #I've also heard about people who give advice/brainstorming sessions for magic systems and I've been intrigued ever since :0 #I'd love to sit down with someone and hash out Exactly how their magic works! It feels like it just needs a few more pushes! #Then again that's what I said about the TVAU outfits too haha ♪ Maybe it would all fall into place! #To the base question tho: I never know how to qualify ''implemented'' - does just putting it out there as a concept count? #Writing a story? Making a comic? A series? Polished? Completed?? Where's the line haha #I'm always so full of ideas but focusing on anything long enough to make it ''pretty'' is so hard for me still #I just keep creating never stopping haha

[thethingything]

I'm fatigued, my back hurts, I accidentally spent like 3 hours sat downstairs in a chair that made our back feel worse because our executive dysfunction prevented me getting up and going back upstairs even though I only went down there to get one thing, and now I really need to lay down but if I accidentally fall asleep again I feel like I'll wake up, realise I fell asleep and also that I feel like I wasted a big chunk of the day, and I'll end up feeling even worse again

#personal #thoughts #🍬 post #vent post #posts made on pain meds #I went downstairs to get food but ended up having to wait longer than anticipated which is whatever #but then that meant I ended up sitting down and once we sit down it's like our brain stops being able to process that we can leave #I'll sit there the whole time going ''I need to get up and go back upstairs. I don't want to be sat here'' and just can't get up #I hate that this happens because while I know our executive dysfunction isn't our fault #and it's the exact same issue that stops us eating or drinking or going to the toilet or whatever when we need to #I still feel like I should be able to just get up and do the thing and just leave if I'm in a situation that I don't want to be in #and it's so hard to get other people to understand that I can't ''just leave'' because my brain just won't let that happen #like I want to but my brain won't register it as an actual thing I can do and it feels more like a weird abstract concept #than a thing I could actually do. it's like my brain can't connect the concept of the action to the act of doing it #and then I get frustrated because why can't I just do the thing that I know I should be able to do #and then I've spent hours not doing anything I meant to and mostly just feel like shit because of it and it keeps happening #and now I need to lay down and I know what's likely to happen if I do that #but I do need to listen to my body especially after getting stuck in a situation that makes our pain and fatigue worse #also we had to take pain meds earlier and that's definitely not helping with us feeling shit emotionally about all this #I hate having to navigate our brain and body just not functioning properly #I feel like we've had so little energy lately and it's reminding me too much of this time last year when we had that blood infection #I'm terrified of that happening again because we almost didn't get treatment because we started to assume it was just our new baseline #hmm apparently within like 5 minutes we've gone from ''ugh I wasted 3 hours'' to almost crying over medical trauma #I probably need to try and do something to calm us down but also I'm too tired to really do anything #which brings me right back to the issue that triggered this whole rant and me getting upset in the first place

[donttouchtheneednoggle]

watching ice age 3 and all i can think about is 'what motivates scart? that's right. the nut.'

#ALSOOOO the gd RADICALNESS of it #start of the movie manny's special family mobile or whatever is only the perfect nuclear family of him ellie and their baby #what diego saw as soon as he knew a baby was coming and got all angsty loner bc he thought he had no place w them any more #but over the course of the movie manny sees the consequences of him getting too caught up #in this new concept o family and forgetting the old one #and reintegrates it all together so at the end the mobile has everyone on it #including the new friend who saved their lives and has no other family to speak of #but chose not to go with them bc he has other things to live for than love #I MEAN #if anything its usually the other way round where annoying man learns #that having fun w friends is frivolous and he needs to step up and be a wife and kids family man #which yeah but that doesn't mean abandon all your platonic/non parental relationships or not value them as highly #dont mind me getting deep abt ice age again 🤣 #mine #like sid literally says at the start hey why aren't i up there #and its framed as a joke and in other movies it would be left as that #like haha sid thinks he's part of manny's family when he's just one of his best frjends and oldest herdmates! #but nope it's actually a perfectly aid protest and the driver behind the whole entire plot :')

[shrimp1y]

Every time I'm like wow maybe im wrong about jjk maybe it is good and I go back to read it, I'm disappointed

#krill livestream #'so then why are 90% of your art and projects jjk aus' i like the idea of it ok i was sold on the concept of math based abilities #but then like. the series is just. held together by mashmallows n spagheti #LIKE IS IT JUST ME i feel crazy im like the character motivations are all over the place imo i feel like. they just Do Things #why? they just Do. like from a writing perspective feels like gege is going well in order to go from here to here these characters have to #do xyz so therefore they will do it #itadoris motivation as a main character is so flimsy to me. and like considering gege is a big fan of dgm i think he's a bit inspired by #allen walker. the original painfully good hearted protag. nobody can do it like u king. but itadori failed at every step allen took #allen had a solid anchor a motivation when his parental figure died and its referenced again and again. whenever his world view shifts as #he's forced to adapt to his circunstanced #his truth of why he fight is questioned and the reader feels it. they too question where he finds the strength to continue n then the story #answers that question #and we are struck by how good he is. how much pain he is in and how fucked up everything is and yet. hes just wholeheartedly there still #itadori barely has a moment of onscreen reflection. hes like oh im sad and someones like ur sad bc u cant protect people therefore u must #get stronger and hes like yeah ur right this is no time to mope #my biggest gripe is with gojo and geto's development actually because like. i feel like gege didn't actually show how GOJO changed from #being cold and detached from humanity. apathetic and homicidal to like. somehow wanting to follow jujutsu tech's rules? #like you are telling me this kid who's bestie changed his entire world views. who once considered murdering an entire group of ppl and only #didn't bc bestie said it wasn't a good idea. who literally could beat one of the strongest dudes #decided to just. sit down and be like ok elders i guess my bestie is a criminal now #like gojo shouldve been like you killed an entire village because they were assholes? i told you sometimes ppl deserves to get beat! #i feel like geto killing his parents was thrown in just for shock factors imo and for satoru to be like wait whaaat but ur parents??? #even then im like gojo. low empathy interp. would probably be like i hate my parents too i kinda get it #you just don't. have enough. to pull a role reversal with them. there just isn't enough motivation for why Gojo would consider morality #especially the morality that jjtech valued. over his best friend. who was the one who gojo held onto that morality for in the first place

[littlestarprincess]

Every time I see something about Supernatural, I wonder how much of the current atheist attitude towards Christianity is rooted in people mistaking Supernatural for being well researched and intelligent.

#i saw someone say something like 'is jesus be embarrassed to be associated with the demiurge known as the christian god' and it's like #JESUS OF NAZARETH LITERALLY STARTED A CULT #HE WAS A JEWISH MAN WHO STARTED A CULT THAT KICKED OFF CHRISITIANITY #THE CHRISTIAN GOD IS LITERALLY HIS TAKE ON GOD #is is CALLED THE CHRISTIAN GOD *AFTER HIM* #also that's not even what the demiurge is like #the demiurge-as-god concept really only applies to the old testament god #(and subsequently might be rooted in antisemitisim tbh) #and the demiurge as a whole concept IS SUBSERVIENT TO THE SUPREME BEING and THAT is if you accept that particular branch of gnosticism #(though adding on to the demiurge-as-god thing . . . it also is interesting to me specifically because not only does it reflect #jesus (the son) usurping yahweh (the father) #but yahweh had a son name el and el is where we get all those such-and-such of god names so it's. . . el (the son) usurping the father #(yahweh) and jesus (the son) usurping the father (god) and it's just part of an endless cycle of sons usurping fathers because it is #in the nature of children to eventually wrestle empires from their parents #idk how el might appear in the testaments i'm pretty much only familiar with him in the context of the caulish pantheon and there very #loosely but i just think it's neat how humanity tells the same universal stories with different names over and over across time and space #and then we fight over it???? for some reason???? #also this is no shade to supernatural this is 100% shade to the people who try to use supernatural lore in place of researching #shit like djinn and faerie changelings #supernatural is an AMERICAN BASED HORROR SERIES so the folklore is presented THROUGH THAT LENS #and because of that the biblical stuff is ALSO HEAVILY ROOTED in discussion of the effect evangelicalism and purity cults have on people #it is NOT a be all end all dictionary of occult lore

[homunculus-argument]

Melatonin sleep went well, but I had a dream there was some online text-based horror game where you clicked different options you had on the screen, as one does. The game consisted of mildly glowing white text on a black background, and the horror of the game was a ghoul that can't be stopped, but it can only see in the dark. So if you can locate yourself into a place that's illuminated, it either won't see that you're there, or will stumble blindly to get you if it knows that you're there.

And despite of the rest of the game being 100% text-based, sometimes the ghoul would appear on the background - with no warning or any other alert that it's there. You just have to constantly be on guard, always wary and on the lookout for it. If it touches your cursor, you die and lose the game. The game doesn't tell you that, you have to die to it a few times to figure out your mouse can dodge it. But the only way to hide from it is to put your cursor over the text - the text is white and glowy while the background is black darkness, your cursor is safe from the ghoul there because the ghoul can no longer see it.

I have no idea how computers work or if a game mechanic like this could be executed in the real world at all, but that game concept was something that came to me in a dream and was still so vivid when I woke up that I needed to illustrate it.