#i don't even do the real estate part

[baronmagikcarp]

I just did that post about renting and repairs and records and I'll always remember going with a friend to look over a place she was considering renting. Like I said in the tags, I work in commercial real estate so I know what to look for on a site tour and I asked my friend how hard she wanted me to be. She gave me permission to go nuts. The poor rental agent for the place looked like she was about to freak out when I pointed out the hastily covered water damage in the ceiling, the screwed up flooring they'd tried to hide under the water leak, the damage to the light fixtures, and then topped it off by opening the inside HVAC unit and showing her how her maintenance people had put in the wrong sized filter and because of that the inside of the unit was covered in dust. This was in the first five minutes of me being in the unit. I had a ball.

I also told her that the HVAC unit was probably going to burn out soon because it hadn't been properly filtered and had probably been working too hard for who knows how long. She didn't believe me. The outside unit burned out on the first hot day the next month and the whole thing had to be replaced.

[californiaquail]

the relationship rich people have with food is so funny my landlords bought a box of single serving bowls of sticky rice from costco and it's been tantalizing me for months. they forgot about it apparently immediately after purchasing it and when i leave it here they will undoubtedly be surprised by this rice they assumed was mine. and this is a very mild example of things they have bought and left in my fridge (their extra/garage fridge) and instantly forgotten about. at least this one is shelf stable and not rotting meat for me to clean up

[simptasia]

mum and i were almost not able to buy our house because a real estate lawyer heard us casually say i'm autistic and alarm bells went off in her head, because she believed that meant i wasn't mentally capable of understanding what i was signing up for

[mcmansionhell]

this house may or may not be real

on grayness in real estate

Allegedly, somewhere in Wake Forest, North Carolina, a 4 bed, 5.5 bathroom house totaling more than 6,600 square feet is for sale at a price of 2.37 million dollars. The house, allegedly, was built in 2021. Allegedly, it looks like this:

A McMansion is, in effect, the same house over and over again - it's merely dressed up in different costumes. In the 90s, the costume was Colonial; in the 2000s, it was vague forms of European (Tuscan, Mediterranean), and in the 2010s it was Tudor, dovetailed by "the farmhouse" -- a kind of Yeti Cooler simulacra of rural America peddled to the populace by Toll Brothers and HGTV.

Now, we're fully in the era of whatever this is. Whitewashed, quasi-modern, vaguely farmhouse-esque, definitely McMansion. We have reached, in a way, peak color and formal neutrality to the point where even the concept of style has no teeth. At a certain moment in its life cycle, styles in vernacular architecture reach their apex, after which they seem excessively oversaturated and ubiquitous. Soon, it's time to move on. After all, no one builds houses that look like this anymore:

(This is almost a shame because at least this house is mildly interesting.)

If we return to the basic form of both houses, they are essentially the same: a central foyer, a disguised oversized garage, and an overly complex assemblage of masses, windows, and rooflines. No one can rightfully claim that we no longer live in the age of the McMansion. The McMansion has instead simply become more charmless and dull.

When HGTV and the Gaineses premiered Fixer Upper in 2013, it seemed almost harmless. Attractive couple flips houses. Classic show form. However, Fixer Upper has since (in)famously ballooned into its own media network, a product line I'm confronted with every time I go to Target, and a general 2010s cultural hallmark not unlike the 1976 American Bicentennial - both events after which every house and its furnishings were somehow created in its image. (The patriotism, aesthetic and cultural conservatism of both are not lost on me.)

But there's one catch: Fixer Upper is over, and after the Gaineses, HGTV hasn't quite figured out where to go stylistically. With all those advertisers, partners, and eyeballs, the pressure to keep one foot stuck in the rural tweeness that sold extremely well was great. At the same time, the network (and the rest of the vernacular design media) couldn't risk wearing out its welcome. The answer came in a mix of rehashed, overly neutral modernism -- with a few pops of color, yet this part often seems omitted from its imitators -- with the prevailing "farmhouse modern" of Magnolia™ stock. The unfortunate result: mega-ultra-greige.

Aside from war-mongering, rarely does the media manufacture consent like it does in terms of interior design. People often ask me: Why is everything so gray? How did we get here? The answer is because it is profitable. Why is it profitable? I'd like to hypothesize several reasons. The first is as I mentioned: today's total neutrality is an organic outgrowth of a previous but slightly different style, "farmhouse modern," that mixed the starkness of the vernacular farmhouse with the soft-pastel Pinterest-era rural signifiers that have for the last ten years become ubiquitous.

Second, neutrals have always been common and popular. It's the default choice if you don't have a vision for what you want to do in a space. In the 2000s, the neutrals du jour were "earth tones" - beige, sage green, brown. Before that, it was white walls with oak trim in the 80s and 90s. In the 70s, neutrals were textural: brick and wood paneling. We have remarkably short memories when it comes to stylistic evolution because in real time it feels incremental. Such is the case with neutrals.

Finally, the all-gray palette is the end logic of HGTV et al's gamified methodology of designing houses with commodification in mind: if you blow out this wall, use this color, this flooring, this cabinetry, the asking price of your house goes up. You never want to personalize too much because it's off-putting to potential buyers. After twenty years of such rhetoric, doesn't it make all the sense in the world that we've ended up with houses that are empty, soulless, and gray?

A common realtor adage is to stage the house so that potential buyers can picture their own lives in it. In other words, create a tabula rasa one can project a fantasy of consumption onto. Implied in that logic is that the buyer will then impose their will on the house. But when the staged-realtor-vision and general-mass-market aesthetic of the time merge into a single dull slurry, we get a form of ultra-neutral that seems unwelcoming if not inescapable.

To impose one's style on the perfect starkness is almost intimidating, as though one is fouling up something untouchable and superior. If neutrality makes a house sell, then personality - at all - can only be seen as a detriment. Where does such an anti-social practice lead us? Back to the house that may or may not exist.

In my travels as McMansion Hell, I've increasingly been confronted with houses full of furniture that isn't real. This is known as virtual staging and it is to house staging as ChatGPT is to press release writing or DALL-E is to illustration. As this technology improves, fake sofa tables are becoming more and more difficult to discern from the real thing. I'm still not entirely sure which of the things in these photos are genuine or rendered. To walk through this house is to question reality.

Staging ultimately pretends (sometimes successfully, sometimes not) that someone is living in this house, that you, too could live in it. Once discovered, virtual staging erases all pretensions: the house is inhabited by no one. It is generally acknowledged (though I'm not sure on the actual statistics) that a house with furniture - that is, with the pretense of living -- sells easier than a house with nothing in it, especially if that house (like this one) has almost no internal walls. Hence the goal is to make the virtual staging undiscoverable.

If you want to talk about the realtor's tabula rasa, this is its final form. Houses without people, without human involvement whatsoever.

But what makes this particular house so uncanny is that all of these things I've mentioned before: real estate listing photography, completely dull interiors and bland colors all make it easy for the virtual furniture to work so well. This is because the softness of overlit white and gray walls enables the fuzzy edges of the renderings to look natural when mixed with an overstylized reality. Even if you notice something's off in the reflections, that's enough to cause one to wonder if anything in the house is real: the floors, the fixtures, the moulding, the windows and doors.

This is where things are heading: artifice on top of artifice on top of artifice. It's cheap, it's easy. But something about it feels like a violation. When one endeavors to buy a house, one assumes what one is viewing is real. It's one thing if a realtor photoshops a goofy sunset, it's another to wonder if anything in a room can be touched with human hands. I won't know what, if any, part of this estate costing over 2 million dollars actually exists until I visit it myself. Perhaps that's the whole point - to entice potential buyers out to see for themselves. When they enter, they'll find the truth: a vast, empty space with nothing in it.

The better this rendering technology gets, the more it will rely on these totally neutral spaces because everything matches and nothing is difficult. You are picking from a catalog of greige furniture to decorate greige rooms. If you look at virtual staging in a non-neutral house it looks immediately plastic and out of place, which is why many realtors opt to either still stage using furniture or leave the place empty.

Due to the aforementioned photography reasons, I would even argue that the greigepocalypse or whatever you want to call it and virtual staging have evolved simultaneously and mutualistically. The more virtual staging becomes an industry standard, the more conditions for making it seamless and successful will become standardized as well.

After all, real staging is expensive and depends on paid labor - selecting furniture, getting workers to deliver and stage it, only to pack it back up again once the property is sold. This is a classic example of technology being used to erase entire industries. Is this a bad thing? For freelance and contract workers, yeah. For realtors? no. For real estate listings, it remains to be seen. For this blog? Absolutely. (Thankfully there is an endless supply of previously existing McMansions.)

The thing is, real estate listings no longer reflect reality. (Did they ever to begin with?) The reason we're all exasperated with greige is because none of us actually live that way and don't want to. I've never been to anyone's house that looks like the house that may or may not exist. Even my parents who have followed the trends after becoming empty nesters have plenty of color in their house. Humans like color. Most of us have lots of warmth and creativity in our houses. Compare media intended for renters and younger consumers such as Apartment Therapy with HGTV and you will find a stark difference in palate and tone.

But when it comes to actually existing houses - look at Zillow and it's greige greige greige. So who's doing this? The answer is real estate itself aided by their allies in mass media who in turn are aided by the home renovation industry. In other words, it's the people who sell home as a commodity. That desire to sell has for some time overpowered all other elements that make up a home or an apartment's interiority to the point where we've ended up in a colorless slurry of real and unreal.

Fortunately, after ten years or so, things begin to become dated. We're hitting the ten year mark of farmhouse modernism and its derivatives now. If you're getting sick of it, it's normal. The whole style is hopefully on its last leg. But unlike styles of the past, there's a real, trenchant material reason why this one is sticking around longer than usual.

Hence, maybe if we want the end of greige, we're going to have to take color back by force.

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including extra posts and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.

[tobiasdrake]

Fun Fact: Even in space, ACAB.

Let's talk about Jaco: The Galactic Patrolman, a somewhat more obscure manga compared to Dragon Ball that Akira Toriyama wrote in its setting.

For the most part, this is a short and fairly simple story. It's primarily a character drama, with the developing relationship between Jaco and the scientist Omori as its central focus.

The manga is surprisingly vague about its connections to Dragon Ball for nearly all of its length, until its final chapter. Jaco is here on Earth to thwart some vague threat sent to the planet from a world of hostile aliens. It's only at the end of the manga that we learn he's talking about Goku.

Galactic Patrol detected an Attack Ball leaving Planet Vegeta and making its way to Earth, so they sent Jaco to... assess the situation and then make a decision about whether or not to do anything.

In his defense, the Saiyans are the most powerful race in the universe. I can understand why he doesn't want to fuck with a full-grown Saiyan warrior. Nobody wants to fuck with a full-grown Saiyan warrior. The most that the finest police force in the universe can do against Saiyans is to try and nip them in the bud when they're babies.

It's interesting that Galactic Patrol doesn't have Scouter technology. I wonder if that proprietary? Frieza might have a patent.

But at the same time, I don't want to be too sympathetic to Jaco because. Well. He sucks.

Galactic Patrol sucks. That's kind of the bit. Jaco is a self-absorbed little shit, utterly devoid of empathy or compassion for the people he polices. He's stranded on Earth right now because he wasn't watching the road while driving.

Jaco's a prick, but what little we learn about Galactic Patrol as a whole doesn't make them sound much better.

This one time Jaco accidentally pressed the Extinction Bomb when he wasn't supposed to and wiped out a planet. Hoo boy, was his boss mad! Gave him a real talking to before giving him another Extinction Bomb and putting him back on patrol.

Universe isn't going to police itself, y'know. Someone's gotta be out there very occasionally trying to stop those real estate genocides.

For his part, Jaco's in it for the aesthetic. He likes the image of being a cop, and he spends his time practicing looking cool for when he presumably dispenses justice upon the criminal element.

But his interactions with the common people are filled with condescension and menace.

Like I said, this is the bit. Jaco is a self-important thug with a badge, with the initial conflict stemming as much from trying to keep him from doing something awful to the community under his jurisdiction as from trying to solve his problem.

Ostensibly here to protect Earth from the impending arrival of a Saiyan threat, he is as much a threat to this community as the invader he's here to assess. Without Omori there to guide him, he'd be killing people left and right.

He fits in pretty well with the cast of Dragon Ball, many of whom at least begin their tenure with a degree of amorality to them. Omori himself is a bitter misanthrope ironically thrust into the position of having to convince Jaco not to kill people.

And then there's the manga's biggest Dragon Ball connection: The introduction of Tights.

Any reader who's been picking up on the Dragon Ball-ness of this universe will know immediately where Tights came from. Her name pun gives the game away. Just like how the final chapter clarifies Jaco's target as the young Goku, we get to see the familiar faces of Tights's family as well.

Bulma basically solves the entire plot singlehandedly.

Even as a little kid, the universe's greatest heretic remains unparalleled in the field of game-breaking super-intelligence. Bulma OP do not nerf.

Again, this speaks to how little of the manga is actually about the plot. If this were a story-driven manga, having a character from another manga show up in the final issue and solve the plot in the span of two pages would be pretty disappointing. But since the plot is just an excuse to make these characters interact with one another, it doesn't really matter.

We aren't here for the story; We're here for the relationship between Jaco, Omori, and Tights. With that in mind, Baby Bulma waddling up and going "I fixed the spaceship; Are you stupid or something?" is hysterical.

For her part, Tights lives up to her family legacy of being super-brilliant.

She graduated from college at 16. She's a genius like the rest of the family. What she's not is interested in science and technology. Possibly as a justification for why we've never heard of her before, Tights goes against the mold for her family.

She honestly seems like something of a free spirit. She lives in East City when we meet her, famously the city that Nappa wiped off the map, while Capsule Corp and Bulma's family are out in West City. Rather than a scientist, she works as a body double for a famous pop idol.

As a publicity stunt, they're going to launch an idol into space. Tights's job is to impersonate the idol so she can die in the inevitable disaster instead. She is bizarrely chill with being paid a huge sum of money to get stupidly killed. Much like Bulma, Tights has a terrible sense of self-preservation and is willing to take on incredible risk for the sake of achieving a personal goal.

Tights is the best character in the manga. An aspiring sci-fi novelist who agreed to probably die in space for the sake of the experience. This family gives zero fucks.

And then there's Omori himself.

Despite its title, Omori is basically the main character of this manga. He's the one whose life situation is most heavily scrutinized. This is his status quo that Jaco and Tights enter. Similarly, Omori is the character who undergoes personal transformation as his experiences with Jaco and Tights help him find hope in connections with other people again.

The three characters click really well together. So well, in fact, that Dragon Ball would end up recycling the setup of Super Alien/Crotchety Old Man/Spunky Young Woman for one of the best dynamics they ever wrote.

This is not a copy/paste; Cheelai, Leemo, and Broly are all distinctly separate characters. but you can still feel the barebones aesthetic of Tights, Omori, and Jaco in their dynamic.

So. Yeah. Overall, for what it is, it's a cute little short story about a group of characters just living lives in the world of Dragon Ball. It's the kind of thing that the franchise needs more of, and still does to this day: An opportunity to flesh out the universe a little but also just to let us live in it through the eyes of someone else.

[embrosegraves]

𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖 𝔻𝕠𝕨𝕟 𝕌𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣

Oscar Piastri x Horner!Reader Oscar finds that having a crush having less than platonic feelings for your boss's only adult daughter is apparently free real estate for some of F1's biggest gossips

Warnings: As per, explicit language and grammatical errors.

dates on tweets don't exist, right? they're all just fake??

series masterlist | previous part | next part

AustralianGP

imessage

instagram.com

liked by yn.horner, rubenholtt and others

oscarpiastri A week full of sim training, rage rooms and relaxation before going home for a p1 on the podium (hopefully) (max let me have this i beg) tagged: redbullracing, yn.horner

view all comments

logansargeant did I not tell you rage rooms were the coolest ever -> oscarpiasrti yeah yeah keep bragging 🙄 -> logansargeant well since you gave me permission-

fan38 at least its a controlled environment to deal with your emotions -> yn.horner thank FUCK i convinced him to do this instead of what Ruben wanted -> rubenholtt what was wrong with egging and tp-ing her house? -> yn.horner uhh everything???

maxverstappen1 I'm not gonna go easy on you just because you grew up 10 minutes from the track -> oscarpiastri BOOOOO 🍅🍅🍅

twitter.com

instagram.com

yn.horner has posted a new story!

replies:

user358 make him wear them!!

oscarpiastri The glasses are NOT the issue and you know it. -> yn.horner What you think I don't look good with facial hair? -> oscarpiastri Hey don't put words in my mouth -> oscarpiastri I just wasn't expecting you to pick up looking like THAT

imessage

instagram.com

liked by yn.horner, maxverstappen1 and others

redbullracing The face of a man that snagged P2 AT HIS HOME RACE, channelled his inner Elle Woods ("What, like it's hard?") and then proceeded to not elaborate any further tagged: oscarpiastri

view all comments

oscarpiastri What can I say, I'm just built diff 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️ -> liked by author

danielricciardo We stand on business here -> oscarpiastri And that's on what? -> yn.horner PERIODTTTTTT

user325 AND NOT A SINGLE DISQUAL IN SIGHT -> danielricciardo 😢😢 -> user325 sorry Danny -> danielricciardo 😒🫶

JapaneseGP

twitter.com

imessage

instagram.com

oscarpiastri has posted a new story!

replies have been turned off

twitter.com

ChineseGP

instagram.com

liked by gerihalliwellhorner, oscarpiastri and others

yn.horner having matching plushies always helps me feel better when i'm away from home

tagged: @ Note Giver

view all comments

oscarpiastri what names have you chosen for yours? assuming that whoever they match with has named theirs -> yn.horner their names are confidential i'm afraid -> oscarpiastri boooooo no fun :(

user549 wish my boyfriend did this for me -> user550 babe, we're literally on our way to go buy jellycats -> user549 ok and???

imessage

twitter.com

twitter.com

if you see this, know that you WILL be getting the next update after the Imola GP i promise.

I've been in a really odd spot in my life where I haven't been very motivated to do any writing (or even just creating in general) for long burst of time, which means that any requests I have been sent previously have been sitting in my drafts half finished because I cannot for the life of me find any inspiration to write anything.

I count myself lucky that I had enough motivation and energy to start pre-planning for the rest of this series. If you take a look at the series masterlist you'll notice that there are numbers next to the current chapters and beyond. I've decided that the entire series is going to be 14 chapters in total with a bonus chapter for Oscar and Y/n's shenanigans at the end of the 2024 season.

I can't thank everyone enough for being so incredibly patient with me as I try to work through this writing slump. Slowly but surely I will start uploading fic reqs again

-- Embrose xx

[chilling-seavey]

Love Thy Neighbour (gr63) - Part One

↳ A/N Still waiting for Apple to invent the iTimeMachine so I can go back to the 80s when Andrew Ridgeley was in his prime. Anyway, please enjoy house husband George slaying the 1980s suburbia. Comments, reblogs, and predictions are always welcome!!

↳ 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: 22.6k

↳ Warnings: 18+, smut, slow burn, cheating/adultery (i don't condone this but, boy, does it make for a juicy plot), use of explicit language, female masturbation, non-consenting voyeurism, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, choking, unprotected sex (and extramarital creampie)

September 1984

The house was straight out of the recent issue of Better Home magazine and even as you stepped out of the passenger seat of the station wagon, you were in awe of the New England architecture. Crisp white siding and red painted shutters over spotless picture windows; it was hard to believe it was all yours. It was nowhere near the small ancient apartment that you were used to in the city - although you certainly wore that place thin until the seams were bursting. It was about time you made the move out of Manhattan and into the nearby suburbs. The American Dream was in the palm of your hand. 

Your husband, Andrew, set his hand on the small of your back and dangled the set of shiny keys over your shoulder with his other, “Want to test the locks?”

You smiled back at him and grabbed them out of his hand before hurrying along the front path to the modest porch and welcoming front door. He followed behind you closely, glancing over his shoulder on the way in expectation of a follower of his own, but the young boy was already busy rushing across the freshly mowed lawn. 

“Richard,” your husband called for him as you turned the key in the lock, the faint remnants of his English accent ghosting through his words, “Come see inside!”

Unbothered, your five-year-old son didn’t even look up as he dropped to his knees beside the garden bed, “No thanks!”

You glanced across the sprawling green grass yourself, “Don’t you want to see your room?”

The little boy’s head perked up in your direction at your very convincing offer and his big brown eyes shone in the sunlight. He shot up from the ground, “Okay!” 

He took the four front stone steps with ease and rushed right past you into the house, making a beeline right for the straight run staircase just inside. You called a reminder after him to hold the handrail but he was already at the top by the time the final word left your mouth. 

Still on the front porch, you and your husband shared calm little smiles over your shared adoration for your little boy, and then he was gesturing you inside first. You stepped over the threshold onto the hardwood floors and you took your time soaking in the modern floral wallpaper that trimmed the foyer and led into the formal living room through the archway to the right. It looked so empty without furniture but it also held so much promise and possibility within the brand new walls. 

Through the living room you could loop into the dining room that overlooked the spacious backyard framed in lush trees and a wooden fence separating the property from the neighbours on either side. The backyard view was perfect from the kitchen sink, giving you a perfect spot to keep an eye on your son playing while you could do the dishes or prep dinner. You had fallen in love with this house the moment you saw it in the real estate section of the newspaper - a new build in a quaint suburb of Connecticut - but at first glance you had figured it would only be a dream. It was hard to believe that your husband and your finances were on board. With a growing little boy, it was time to move out of that tiny one-and-a-half bedroom apartment in Manhattan. Now, with three full bedrooms upstairs, the future was far more open. 

You hadn’t realized you were daydreaming at the empty kitchen sink before your husband gave your shoulders a squeeze, bringing you back to your content reality, “The moving truck should be here soon. Should we start unpacking the car?”

Leaning back into him, you agreed with a smile, “Alright.”

He wrapped his arms around your middle and pressed a kiss to your cheek before he was pulling away just as quickly and disappearing into the foyer and towards the front door.

Andrew always lived a lively life and somehow you managed to keep up. He always wanted to be out doing things such as date nights on the town rather than picking up after-hour client dinners just to socialize and bring in more money for his company - and, ultimately, himself and your family. It was so nice when you were younger and you were in love and willing to follow him to the ends of the earth but the reality of parenthood made you more tired than you used to be. Suddenly, nights out felt tedious and the airtime was always filled with business talk or discussions of Richard’s school. It all felt a bit like a chore. But maybe that just came with growing up. You were loved, you were secure, and you had a beautiful roof over your head. You swore you had nothing to complain about. 

The moving truck pulled into your driveway not long after your trusty station wagon had only been unpacked about halfway. It was going to be a long day but you tied your hair back and made sure your son was kept busy when you could and Andrew and the movers took over most of the heavy lifting, leaving you to rearrange boxes and direct them inside the house. It was always your responsibility to take care of your son so it wasn’t unusual for you to keep busy with finding him a snack from your cooler once that was brought in from the car. The kitchen table followed not long after from the moving truck and the two of you sat at the table together with Jell-O cups. 

Richard would be starting kindergarten in only a week and part of you was worried about what on earth you were going to busy yourself with once he was gone. Being a stay at home mom, your sole job was caring for him and since there were no other kids on your agenda as of yet, you were painfully preparing to be completely alone from 9-3 every week day. You tried not to worry about it as you watched your five-year-old eat his cherry Jell-O and you reached out a hand to brush through his frazzled dark brown hair, trying to pet it down into some sort of order. Even the gel that you had slicked through it that morning seemed to not be doing its job anymore but that seemed to be common with a lively little boy. You truly loved him with everything in you and those big brown eyes could just melt your heart with one look. He was his father’s son through and through. 

Being an only child, Richard got bored pretty easily on moving day so it wasn’t long before you sent him outside to the front yard to play while the truck was finished unloading and you and Andrew tended to the organization inside. With the windows open, the late summer air breezed through the freshly painted house and one of the first things you set up was your record player in the living room so you could have some music while you worked. 

Soon, Richard came rushing back inside and across the carpeted living room floor in his outdoor running shoes, earning a lightly scolding “Ritchie” out of you. 

“Mommy, there’s kids next door. Can I play with them?” he asked, ignoring your quiet scold of his name as he clutched onto the hem of your sky blue shorts pleadingly, batting those sweet long lashes up at you. 

You pet your hand over his soft hair, “Sure, baby. Stay close though, okay?” 

“Okay!” 

He was already halfway out the front door again before the single word reply was even completely out of his mouth. With a few trinkets in your hand that you had been taking out a box of arrange in the curio cabinet, you drifted over to the large picture window overlooking the front lawn. Two kids around Richard’s age were playing on the quiet tree-lined street on big wheel tricycles and your son ran over to them to introduce himself. You smiled fondly at the sociable nature of your son that was quite unlike your own traits, watching the children play for a few more moments as Richard was given a turn on the bike, before you were moving back to your boxes. 

As the afternoon wore on and you grew tired, you had just enough energy to make dinner - something simple and quick - and soon you were stepping out onto the front porch to call your son back in to eat. He said goodbye to his two new friends and then hurried over to you just as you noticed two people crossing over your lawn towards you. 

“Hey there!” the woman called politely. 

Richard stood in front of you nosily, watching them, and he wrapped an arm around your leg. Your next door neighbours approached you across your lawn, a man and woman maybe only a few years your senior, and the man held a white bakeware dish covered in tinfoil in his hands.

“Hi.” you greeted them with a smile. 

They were clearly a well kept pair as if they had been cut from a magazine themselves with the husband in tidy blue jeans and a tucked in button up and the wife with her blonde hair tied back in an impressive updo. She had on dress slacks and a blazer with posh shoulder pads, earning a lighthearted envious glance out of you at her style as you accepted her handshake and she spoke again, “I’m Jennifer and this is my husband, George. We just live next door and saw you moving in so we wanted to introduce ourselves.”

“How lovely.” you smiled, moving on to shake her husband’s hand, trying not to be intimidated by the electric blue eyes staring back at you as you introduced yourself and your son.

Your five-year-old peered up at them behind waves of dark hair that tumbled over his big brown eyes despite the way you swooped it out of his face yet again. 

“Are those your little ones?” you asked, gesturing over to the street where the two kids were still playing. 

Jennifer glanced over to the children before looking back at you, “Yeah. Those are ours. James and Nancy.” 

“It was really nice of them to let Ritchie play today.” you started. 

The adult conversation got boring quickly for the five-year-old so he slid out from under your maternal touch and slipped inside without a word or goodbye. 

“He’s an only child,” you explained, “so he sometimes gets a little lonely…especially in a new neighbourhood and all.”

“Oh, of course.” Jennifer tisked.

“Is he starting school this year?” George asked.

It was the first time you heard him speak apart from a brief greeting drowned out by his wife but it didn’t phase you. The hint of a British accent across his words didn't either, all too used to the same from your own husband. How likely that the suburbs of America brought two Brits as next-door neighbours. Comedically written in the stars, or something of the sort.

“Yeah, he’ll be starting kindergarten next week.” you exhaled, “Big steps.”

“So is James.” George said, “I’m sure they’ll be in the same class. Would be good for them to have a little friend before being thrown into a classroom.”

“Oh, that’d be great.” you sighed thankfully, setting a hand to your chest, “Even that alone brings so much ease to the conscience. I’ve been worried about how he’d transition to this whole new place.”

George smiled knowingly, “And especially when your first is going off to school for the first time.” 

“Definitely.” 

Footsteps across the foyer floor behind you pulled your attention away from your new neighbours to your husband stepping out onto the porch with you to see what was taking so long - undoubtedly you were tattled on by your five-year-old. You welcomed his arm around your waist as you introduced your new neighbours to him and him to them and they shared brief pleasantries. 

“We won’t keep you.” Jennifer took a step back, “I know it’s probably close to dinner time.”

George took one step up onto the stone stairs of your porch to offer out the bakeware, “We just wanted to bring you a little something to say welcome to the neighbourhood.”

“That’s so thoughtful. Thank you so much!” you took it from him.

“Such a nice change to have nice neighbours after the nightmare of living in Manhattan.” Andrew joked. 

“Oh, totally. We don’t mess with the city-dwellers.” George waved his hand casually, rising light laughter among your little group. He took a step back towards his wife who was already clearly trying to urge him back towards their house, but he reiterated honestly, “Anything you need, we’re right next door. Don’t be strangers.”

“Thanks a lot!” Andrew raised his hand up in a brief wave and you wished them a good night as they herded their two kids back towards their house and you were gently steered back inside by your husband. 

The apple crisp was placed on the kitchen counter and you served some for dessert to your little family. It wasn’t chocolate, candy, or ice cream so Richard wasn’t too impressed, but as adults, you and Andrew both swore it was the best dessert you had in a while - even surpassing your own. You made a mental note to find a way to thank the neighbours next time you saw them.

Having just moved in, your available time was few and far between throughout that weekend and into the beginning of the following week. Your plethora of boxes that needed unpacking as well as your young son who needed to be prepared and set for his first day of school kept you busy and it didn’t help that after the weekend, Andrew was back to work full time, needing to leave earlier to commute into the city and ultimately getting home later for that same reason. You were just appreciating the last few days you had with your son before he was going to be in school for the next two decades. The looming loneliness almost had you craving another baby but the time just never felt right. 

Wednesday was Richard’s first day of school and he was that perfect expected mix of nervous and excited. He was already eating his cereal at the kitchen table with his eyes glued to the TV in the adjacent family room when Andrew returned from his early morning run to get ready for work before the sun had even passed the horizon. With a five-year-old, every morning was an early morning but a commuting husband only stressed that fact further. 

In his white t-shirt and short white Fila shorts, Andrew was quite the looker as he joined you and your son in the kitchen for good morning kisses before he had to run upstairs to shower and get ready for the day. The white clothing stood out against his tanned skin and dark features right down to the white socks and running shoes. He was still that tall, dark, and handsome stranger you fell in love with those few short years ago and the way your eyes trailed after his legs in those itty bitty shorts only had the desire to fill the second bedroom upstairs heating across your cheeks. But you quickly turned back to your work at the counter prepping Richard’s lunch for school. 

Andrew was gone in under an hour and your driveway was left empty as he took the family car for his commute to the train station where he would then take transit into the city. Since the car would be gone every day, Richard was set to take the school bus to school which was a whole new experience for both the five-year-old and yourself. You held his hand as you closed your front door behind you and started on your short walk down the front path of your house and along the curb of the street to the bus stop. Richard’s blue backpack looked almost huge on his back and he carried his metal Flintstones lunch box in the hand that wasn’t claimed by yours. 

At the nearest intersection in your quiet suburbia, a few parents and kids were already standing there and waiting for the bus. Richard tugged at your hand and when you looked down at him, he took his hand out of yours to point to the small forming crowd, “I see James, Mommy!”

“You can go run and say hello. I won’t go anywhere.” you promised. 

He rushed across the street to the sidewalk and met up with his neighbourly friend he had met on moving day. Sure enough, James’ father was also waiting for the bus to arrive like some of the other parents with his daughter sitting in his arms, and as you approached, you shared quiet ‘good morning’s. 

“First day jitters?” you asked lightheartedly. 

“Yeah,” George sighed with a melancholy smile, “Although more so me, apparently.”

“Preaching to the choir.” you agreed. 

There was a pause as you both stared fondly at your boys talking excitedly together with their seemingly huge backpacks and perfectly styled first-day-of-school hair. You sensed yourself being stared at so you looked back to him only to find the culprit being his young daughter perched in his arms. 

“Good morning to you too.” you said sweetly to her. She smiled shyly and leaned her head against George’s as if to hide from you as a stranger. 

He rubbed her back and coaxed her, “Say ‘good morning’, Nance.”

She shook her head and tightened her little arms around his shoulders. 

“Oh, I wanted to thank you and your wife for the delicious apple crisp.” you said, steering the subject away from the unwanted attention to the shy little girl. George glanced at you as you continued, “Andrew and I agreed that it was the best we’ve ever had.”

“That’s great to hear! I’m glad you enjoyed it. I just found the recipe in the recent issue of Home Cooking magazine and thought I’d give it a try.”

Your eyes widened, “You made it?”

George chuckled, “Yeah. I made it. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Well…no…I guess not.” you stammered, trying to collect your words before you embarrassed yourself, “I’ve just never seen my husband pick up a measuring cup yet alone a whole recipe in all six years we’ve been together. I’m impressed.”

He simply shrugged modestly and gave his daughter a little bounce to try and bring a smile to her face, “Baking is just something I like to do in my spare time when I’m not running after these two crazies.” 

“I’ll get that bakeware back to you this week. Don’t want to keep you from your passion projects.”

“No rush!” George promised, “I have plenty.”

“Mommy!” Richard ran right into your legs, burying his face against your thigh, and you only had to glance up to find the cause of his panic was the yellow school bus turning the corner. 

“Aw, Ritchie.” you smiled fondly and crouched down in front of him to take his soft face in your hands, “You and James are gonna have so much fun today! And when you get home, I will meet you right here in this very same spot and we’re going to have spaghetti and meatballs for dinner…your favourite.”

He threw his arms around your neck and you held him close as the bus stopped by the curb and opened the doors for the kids. The older few got on with no issues but a few of the younger ones were facing the similar sense of anxiety as Richard was. Even James was lingering close to George despite the way he tried to play it off. 

“Okay, my handsome boy.” you gently guided your son away from you and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “The faster you go, the faster you come home!”

He nodded sadly. 

George added with a pat to his son’s head, “You two stick together today, alright?”

The boys nodded.

You told your son you loved him and left him with one more kiss before he and his new friend were getting on the school bus together with the rest of the kids. You and George waited there until the bus was long gone around the corner and the other parents started to disperse. Since you were next door neighbours, the two of you walked back towards home together with the added company of George’s daughter still in his arms. 

“What are your plans for today?” he asked you casually as you navigated the tree lined street. 

“Still unpacking a little.” you confessed. “I feel like it’s been going on forever.” 

“I don’t miss that.” he chuckled faintly, “When Jenn and I moved here when we were expecting James it felt like we were never going to get out of the hoard of boxes.” 

“Truly. But I just put on my records and get busy.” you shrugged, tucking your hands in the pockets of your blue jeans. 

“Are you much of a music listener?” George asked. 

“Oh, yes. I’ve been playing Bryan Adam’s album on basically repeat since it came out last year.”

“Cuts Like A Knife?”

You looked over at him with a grin, “Yeah! You know it?”

“Of course. I’m quite into music myself.”

“So is Andy.” you looked back to the street beneath your feet with each slow step side by side, “We met in a music club one night back in ‘78 and you could say he literally swept me off my feet. He plays some guitar but I can’t play an instrument to save my life. We’re hoping Ritchie gets his talent.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of George’s lips but he nodded modestly, “That’s great. Jenn and I have the same mindset for our two - although I don’t know if she has any musical talent because she claims she never has the time.”

“Maybe I should use that excuse.” you chuckled, “I might deafen you if I ever pick up Andy’s guitar - or if he ever lets me. So if you hear anything that sounds like a dying cat from the next house over, that’s just me and my wonderful musical renditions.”

Stopping by the curb between your two houses, George shared in your smile and your gaze lingered on the way his light eyes shone in the morning sun. He hiked his daughter a bit higher on his hip and readjusted his hands under her bum as he replied smoothly, “I doubt you’re that bad.”

You waved your hand passively as if to brush off his niceties, “You don’t know the half of it. Anyway, all you’ll be hearing is my record player. Please tell me if it gets too loud and disruptive. I can get carried away sometimes.”

“I won’t, but it’s a kind offer.” he smiled with a cock of his head. “Seems you like good music anyway so who am I to complain?” 

You set your hands on your hips with an up-turn of your nose in his direction, a mirrored amused smile on your lips at his playfulness, “Well then, I take my role as neighbourhood DJ very seriously. Any requests, you know where I live.”

“I might take you up on that; watch out.” 

Your conversation naturally faded out under the waving shade of the lush trees that stretched over your suburban street like a canopy and Nancy tapped George’s cheek shyly to get his attention. He looked at her expectantly and she leaned in to whisper to him under the presence of a stranger - you. The quietness of his youngest had George smiling fondly and he rubbed her back with a soft “okay” before looking to you, 

“We have to head back - important date with cartoons and snacks are awaiting us.”

“Of course.” you took a step back towards your lawn, “It was nice seeing you again.”

“You too. And I’m sure we’ll see each other again in the same spot at 3pm sharp.” 

You nodded, “That we will.”

Then, he headed across the lawn towards his house that was nestled closely beside yours and with the satisfaction of a nice conversation with your new neighbour fresh in your heart, you made your way into your own house to start your first day all alone. 

It wasn’t until the next day that you were able to bring over the bakeware to your neighbours’ since you wanted to make a point to wash it first. Richard was off at school again and after lunch you walked across your shared lawn to the house beside yours, sparkling white dish in your hands. You ascended the few stone steps to the front door and knocked against the glass, hidden from the inside by sheer curtains. After only a few moments, someone appeared behind the door and then it was opened to reveal George. 

He smiled warmly at you, “Hey, neighbour.”

You couldn’t hide your slight startle from seeing him, trying to play it cool with a friendly smile and the bakeware held out towards him, “Hi. I brought back your dish. Washed up and everything.”

“Oh, thanks so much.” he took it from you, “You didn’t have to wash it. I’m sure you already have enough on your plate.”

“No trouble. It was the least I could do.” you assured him.

“Did you want to come in?” he asked, “If you don’t have more boxes to unpack.”

You chuckled softly, “I could actually use a break from that overwhelming presence of cardboard.” 

“Yeah?” he stepped aside with a warm smile and a cock of his head, “Come on in.” 

The wood paneled foyer welcomed you in and you stepped over the threshold with a quiet thank you, your flat shoes landing dully against the linoleum tile floors. George shut the door behind you and led you straight through the modest house towards the kitchen, passed the foyer console table that was lined with photographs of his children around a centred wedding photo of him and Jennifer. Your eyes skimmed them on the way past as you followed him into the kitchen. 

“I couldn’t help but expect your wife to answer.” you confessed once you passed by the stairs and entered into the kitchen at the back of the house, the fluorescent lighted ceiling tiles really brightening the space with that 1984 modern touch, “Are you taking the day off?”

“Nope. Everyday is a work day for me. I’m a stay at home dad…Jenn brings home the bacon.” George explained as he opened one of the wood cabinets and crouched down to stack the clean bakeware with the rest under the counter. He then walked around the small island to the corner of the kitchen where the kettle was resting on the stove, “Would you like tea or anything?”

“Tea would be lovely.” 

He filled the kettle at the kitchen sink before setting it on the stove again and turning on the heat to boil the water. You stood just out of the way, head whirling with the concept that he was the one who stayed home while his wife worked. You couldn’t help but be nosy. 

“So what does Jennifer do for work?” 

George opened the fridge to take out the carton of milk, “She’s an executive assistant to some big shot CEO in the city. He’s pretty demanding so she’s always somewhere or another.”

“That’s impressive.” 

“Yeah, I’m proud of her.” George pulled a tight lipped smile as he fetched two mugs from one of the cupboards and set them on the counter as the kettle boiled. “We knew when we got married that we wanted at least one of us to be home with the kids as they grew up and her job was already pretty set in stone and secure so we agreed that I’d take the at-home responsibilities.”

“Hence the apple crisp skills.”

“Exactly.” George leaned back against the counter opposite you and he crossed his arms over his chest casually, “Although with two little ones, I’m surprised I have time for much of that. It’s so hectic sometimes. I guess that’s the one good thing about James going off to school now; one less kiddo to chase after during the day.”

“Oh, gosh, I’m sure.” you agreed politely before glancing around the unfamiliar house, “Where’s your other?”

“Napping. We went to the park earlier then had lunch and she was knackered. I’m sure she won’t bother us.”

“Never a bother.” you tisked, “I love kids.”

“But you only have one?” George asked before quickly following it up with a, “Sorry if that’s an invasive statement.”

“No, no. You’re fine.” you shrugged, “Where we lived before was a tiny apartment in Manhattan that Andrew had bought when he was a bachelor after moving from London. Ritchie was literally sleeping in the den with the desk and filing cabinet and things. There was literally no room for another kid.”

“And the time was right to move into a proper house?”

“Yeah. We didn’t feel totally settled in the city and with a young kid I felt like he needed a yard to run around in.”

“I understand that. That’s why we moved out here after we were married. The appeal is just so much nicer than Manhattan when thinking of settling down.” 

There was something about George that felt so trustworthy and kind and you found yourself easily relaxing in his company enough to confess, “We didn’t have the luxury of planning. Our relationship was a little…out of order.” 

The whistle on the kettle blew and George turned to take it off the stove and shut off the heat while also continuing your conversation, “Out of order? What do you mean?”

“Well…we got married because I was pregnant.” 

George’s lips formed a silent ‘o’ in realization and he glanced over at you for a brief moment as he filled the mugs, not quite knowing what to say.

“Married at 20 isn’t totally ideal.” you chuckled, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the tile floor. “But we were in love so it was okay. And Richard is the best kid we could have asked for.”

“All worked out then.” George said with a kind smile in your direction. 

You nodded faintly, “Yeah.”

“Milk? Sugar?” he asked with a gesture to the filled and steeping mugs. 

“Milk would be great, thanks.” 

George prepped the tea and even grabbed a few cookies from the cookie jar to place on a plate for your early afternoon snack and then you followed him back down the hallway and towards the formal living room adjacent to the foyer, passing the photographs once again. The built-in bookcases along the far wall housed more pictures and trinkets from over the years and your eyes lingered on them as you sat on the blue upholstered couch and George arranged your drinks on coasters on the cherry coffee table. With you on one end of the couch, he sat on the other end with a respectable distance between you. 

“I was just admiring your photographs.” you confessed when you finally tore your gaze away from the collection across the shelves and you leaned forward to grab your tea with a quiet thanks to him. 

“Yeah.” he smiled fondly as he glanced over the frames he was all too familiar with, “I like having them around.” 

“The wedding one in the foyer was really sweet.” 

George sipped his tea with that gentle upturn of his lips and an acknowledging, “Mhm.”

“How long have you two been married?”

George leaned back on the couch and looked to the ceiling in thought, his mug held at a rest on top of his blue jean clad thigh, “We were married in ‘77 I think…the years seem to get a little foggy. And Jenn doesn’t like to make a big deal about anniversaries so it’s not like we diligently keep track.”

“Oh. Why doesn’t she like to make a big deal?”

He shrugged, “Dunno, really. I think she’s so busy all the time that having one less thing to worry about is easier. The first few years were celebrated and even planned the odd stay-cation but after the five year mark and having kids…it’s just easier to not really bother as much.”

“I guess so. I think Andy and I are the same way…although we never really had the money for stay-cations or elaborate gifts anyway. He’ll just buy me flowers.” 

“Flowers are good.” George smiled over at you. 

“Yeah.” you exhaled.

“I’m more of the romantic one in my marriage but Jenn isn’t into the whole bit of gifts and time and whatnot so I’ve had to learn to cut back or she gets so overwhelmed.”

You frowned and met his gaze, “That makes me sad.”

He shrugged with a melancholy smile, “Eh, it’s okay. We had our share of mushy love in high school anyway. Maybe we’re just too old for all that now.” 

“High school sweethearts?” you pried. 

“Mhm.” George’s eyes sparkled. “Met her in our first year of high school when my family had just moved here from London. We were the graduating class of ‘73.” 

Your eyebrows furrowed as you tried to do the mental math for a moment before finally asking, “So how old are you then?”

George cocked his head to the side with an amused expression, “How old do you think I am?”

“I don’t want to answer that.” you laughed, tucking your hair behind your ear as you looked down to your steaming mug of tea held in your lap. 

He spared you with his answer, “I’m 29.”

“Okay, not far off from us. We’re both 26.” you added. 

“Still young.” George bantered lightly, “Did you want more kids? Now that you have a bigger house and all.”

“Yeah. I’ve always wanted a whole bunch…Andrew not so much though. He took some time to warm up to Ritchie when I told him I was pregnant the first time so I’m not sure how he’d feel about the pitch of a second.”

“Doesn’t hurt to ask. Marriage is all about give and take, right?”

George’s statement inflicted a bit of ache in your chest as it forced you to reflect back on your six years with Andrew and the desires and plans of your own that you had pushed down to help him thrive in his own life and career. You sipped your tea quietly without a reply, taking a second to daydream about the filled house you had always wanted ever since you were a little girl. A house full of kids and a little job for yourself on the side and a husband who treated you like a queen. You were treated well by him - that was never a question - but everything always felt as if it was falling short to your expectations. 

“Sorry.” George’s voice tore you from your thoughts, “I don’t mean to force my way into your marriage as some sort of psychologist.” 

“No, no. That’s okay. It just has me thinking.” you looked over at him again with a melancholy smile, “We were just so young and I didn’t really have a chance to know myself or what I wanted before we got married. Andy’s such a good guy but sometimes there’s some sort of disconnect in what we both strive for.”

“That’s fair. But even time doesn’t guarantee that perfect connection. Like how Jenn and I differ with what we want in terms of romance and showing our love. I love the words, the gifts, the intimacy…whereas she just likes when I do her laundry or make her lunch.”

“Got those reverse gender roles, huh?”  

George cracked a half smile, “That’s actually very true. I finish tidying this entire house by the time she gets home from work, the kids are already bathed and in bed, and she’s ‘too tired’ to spend any time with me. Honestly, I don’t even know how we ended up with two kids.”

You both shared faint laughter behind casual sips of your tea. 

“That’s not much different on our side of the fence.” you agreed. “Must be that working world that just absolutely obliterates someone’s intimacy desires. Is it that tiring?”

“Commuting an hour and a half into the city there and back every day doesn’t help.”

You tisked, “Of course not.”

“It’s easy to feel lonely. I didn’t understand it when I was growing up…seeing my mom being a homemaker and all…but when you’re in it…”

It was the first time someone truly acknowledged how you felt - and a man at that. Even your husband didn’t quite get it, but why would he? But suddenly this stranger was speaking the words that you were too ashamed to even think about and you felt like a weight of a cloud was pulled from your shoulders. 

“Yeah.” you breathed, sharing the air across the couch with your unwavering gazes, “That’s exactly it.”

“And then your kids grow up…”

“And then what do you have?” you concluded his sentence, “What is your purpose after that?”

George tisked lightly and scooted slightly closer so he could set his hand on your knee, “You have purpose, okay? You’re not just a mother and not just a homemaker and not just a wife. You’re a woman too.”

You bit lightly at your bottom lip, staring into his gorgeous blue eyes that suddenly seemed to push a warmth through your chest and up to your cheeks. 

“You have purpose and you have value.” he told you like he was telling you the most honest truth. 

“Thank you.” you mouthed back, worried that if you spoke out loud, your voice might break. 

He gave your knee a gentle reassuring squeeze, “Of course.”

You both stayed there, frozen, for a moment, just staring at each other. You felt some sort of warmth all around you from more than just the half empty mug of tea still clutched in your hands, realizing how close you were now. Tearing your gaze away from his light eyes, you naturally glanced at his lips and watched as they perked up at the corner in a gentle smile, moulding the shape of his soft lips and his precisely shaped cupid's bow that you couldn’t help but stare at.

The moment you got the urge to lean in, you turned your head away from him and cleared your throat as you set your mug on the coffee table. His hand was removed from your leg. 

“I should go…” you mumbled. 

George stood when you did, “Okay.”

“Thank you…for the tea and the company.” you said to the ground as if scared to look at him in fear of feeling those strange warm flutters again. 

“Of course. I’m always here…whenever you want to talk or anything.” he promised before leaning down to pick up the plate of untouched cookies, “Biscuit for the long journey home?”

You smiled at his playfulness and when you grabbed one from the plate, you finally looked him in the eye again, “Thank you.” 

“Let me walk you out.” 

He held his arm out for you to urge you to lead the way and you slid between him and the coffee table to make your way to the front door, trying not to focus on the scent of his cologne as you drifted by him so closely. You needed to get out of there. 

You barely remembered saying goodbye or the ghostly touch to your arm he offered in passing before you were out in the fresh air of your neighbourhood and you were trying not to stumble down his front path. The cookie was still held in your hand and your startled eyes darted back over your shoulder to his shut front door before you broke out into a brisk walk across the lawn and onto your own property. 

In the peace of your house, you shut your own front door once back inside and you leaned against it heavily, your chest rising and falling in your half panicked breaths. Nothing had happened but it felt like it had and the strange feeling of guilt bubbled up in your stomach. You had never before had thoughts of another man apart from Andrew but you pinned it to George’s manners and how he only said what you wanted to hear. There was nothing to feel guilty about because absolutely nothing happened. Just because you thought something didn’t mean you did anything wrong. 

The cookie was still in your hand and you pushed yourself away from the door to take it straight into the kitchen and you tossed it in the garbage bin, closing the lid loudly. 

Andrew got home around 6:45, just when you were putting dinner on the table. Richard hopped out of his chair to greet him with an excited hug and your husband crouched down to meet him with a wide grin and open arms. He asked his son how school was and half listened to his youthful explanation of his day as he greeted you with a kiss to the corner of your mouth and drifted past you to his seat at your dining room table. 

You ate together as a family like you almost always did and then when Andrew retired to the family room to wind down and watch some TV, you took Richard upstairs to get ready for bed. The little boy was bathed and dressed and afterwards he rushed downstairs to say goodnight to his father before you were tucking him into his single bed in his blue wallpapered room. You always loved watching your son fall asleep; there was something so peaceful about it and gave you a moment to admire his soft features without him running away with youthful exuberance. With a kiss to his head, you left him to sleep and shit his door behind you before making your way back downstairs. 

MTV was playing on the chunky TV across the family room and Andrew glanced up at you from the couch when you entered. He held his arm up and you gladly took the spot beside him and cuddled up close. He rested his head against yours with a soft sigh as he focused back on the music video he was watching with the host of MTV counting up that week's hits from the charts. 

“Imagine if I was #1.” he spoke quietly, almost dreamily. “Making it big in some internationally known band rather than rotting in some office in Manhattan. We’d have the money to afford an even bigger house.” 

You hummed plainly in acknowledgement and slid your arm around his middle as if in some desire to melt completely into him. 

Your lack of response had him looking over at you, “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” you mumbled.  

You weren’t looking at him but you could feel how he stayed staring at you for a few more seconds before he turned back to the TV too, not wanting to press you further. But then you shifted at his side so you could tuck your legs under yourself on the couch and face him properly. 

“Andy.”

“What’s up, sugar?” he rested his head back against his couch so he could look at you again. 

The random pop music video played on in the background. 

“I wanted to talk to you about something.” you confessed, trailing the hem of his collared work shirt with your finger. 

“Alright.” he leaned forward to mute the TV and the smiling dancers danced to nothing on the screen, giving you his full attention. 

When he was settled back in his spot on the couch, his big brown eyes on you and his hand on your thigh right where George’s had been earlier that day, you just blurted it out, “I want to have another baby.”

Said big brown eyes blinked at you once, twice, then his eyebrows furrowed for a half second before he spoke, “Oh.”

“We have a bigger house now and that empty room upstairs has been just calling to me or something. And I’ve always wanted many kids and Ritchie is the best we could ask for…where’s the harm in having a second of him?”

Andrew sighed and gave your thigh a squeeze just like George had, “I dunno, sugar.”

“Why not?” you frowned and leaned in closer to him, almost pleadingly. 

“Well, work is busy so I won’t be home much and we just are getting settled in this new place-”

“We’ll still have nine months to prepare!” you reminded him quickly. 

Andrew laughed lightly towards the carpet, “Yes, I know, but now Ritchie’s away at school and he’s already big and-”

“Which means I won’t have my hands as full taking care of a baby and a kid at home.”

“I don’t think we need another. I am perfectly happy with our little family as is. Aren’t you?”

You nibbled at your bottom lip as you stared at him while he looked at you expectantly and everything in your heart wanted to tell him no but your quiet voice abandoned you with a soft, “Yeah, I guess.”

Andrew lifted his hand from your lap to tuck your hair behind your ear before pulling you close by his arm around your shoulders, “Maybe you’re just saying this because you’re not used to being alone since Ritchie started school.”

“Maybe.” you muttered. 

“I am very happy with the life we have. I don’t need anything more.” he tried to be sweet about it but your heart ached and even as he kissed the corner of your mouth, you had to force the smile to come to your lips. 

Andrew rested his head against yours as he unmuted the TV and the top hit pop song filled your family room and the big house that felt empty in your heart. Your eyes drifted away from the screen to peer through the adjacent window that looked out towards the neighbour’s property and although only looking at red brick and white siding, you silently and guiltily wished you had what they had.

Since Richard had no siblings, you knew that it would be important for him to socialize outside of school with kids his own age at various activities. He had expressed interest in baseball not long before so you jumped on the opportunity to sign him up for the local little league team just before the fall season was set to start. You, yourself, were excited for a bit of a distraction after the ultimate letdown that was your conversation with your husband a few evenings prior although Andrew went about his days like nothing was wrong. 

On Tuesday evening, you were getting Richard into his baseball uniform for his first practice, making sure that the shirt and pants fit him properly on his young body that seemed to be growing faster than you could buy clothes for it. He stood proudly in his mirror in his room as you adjusted his navy blue baseball cap over his dark hair and swooped his messy bangs out of his face. Grinning up at you in approval, he didn’t even have to say a word for you to read exactly what was on his mind. 

“You look so grown up, Ritchie!” you gushed, crouching down to his height for one last shirt adjustment, “You excited?”

“Yeah! I’m gonna get a home run!” he announced. 

“I bet you are!” you held up your hand and he smacked his little palm against yours for a high five. “Come now, let’s show Daddy and then get your shoes on.” 

Richard rushed right out of his bedroom and hurried down the stairs in his socked feet, “Daddy, I’m ready!” 

Andrew was already waiting by the front door and seeing his son coming down the stairs brought a beaming grin to his face, “Looking so spiffy, little slugger.” 

You passed over the baseball shoes to your husband, “Can you put his shoes on for him while I get the snacks?”

“Of course.” Andrew took the pair from you and crouched down in front of the little boy who obediently rested his hands on his father’s shoulders and stuck one foot out for a shoe. 

You returned to the kitchen that still had the dinner dishes in the sink in need of washing but time was already cutting it close and you were already in a bit of a rush to get to the field in time. The cooler was packed and sitting beside the fridge and you checked that the watermelon slices and Hi-C juice boxes were tucked away with some bags of ice before locking the lid and carrying it back down the hallway to your family. Andrew took the cooler from you to carry it to the car himself and you ushered your excited five-year-old out of the door after him so you could close up the house. 

As you walked down the front path to the driveway, you couldn’t help but glance over to your neighbours’ and notice their family car was missing from their house. You forced yourself to ignore the curiosity that was getting the better of you as you had been in a constant strive to pretend absolutely nothing had happened between you and George. In reality, nothing did happen, but the strange feeling of guilt was eating at your heart. Some distance would do just the trick, you were sure. 

It was nice to have Andrew able to come to Richard’s first little league practice, especially after he was tired from a long day of commuting and work, but you thanked him silently with a quick kiss to his cheek as you climbed in the passenger seat of your station wagon. His warm smile back at you still managed to bring that little flutter to your heart after your six years together and you broke his gaze to glance to your son in the back seat. Richard gave you two thumbs up and a beaming grin that was all his father’s, making his big brown eyes scrunch closed at the corners, all ready to go to his first event. 

The community park was only about a five minute drive from your house and once Andrew pulled into the gravel parking lot, it appeared that there were still some families pulling up. The baseball diamond looked busy though so you hurried to get your son all signed in and so he could meet his teammates and coach. Andrew took the cooler and your hand while Richard ran ahead in his own determination to socialize. You joined the queue of parents by the team dugout who were signing in their sons and as you waited, you both watched Richard help himself to the group of boys who were playing in the red sand of the baseball diamond, all in matching navy blue uniforms with their own chosen number on their backs. 

After a few moments, Andrew gave your hand a squeeze to get your attention, “I’m going to put the cooler down and find us a spot on the bleachers. You okay to sign him in?”

“Of course.” you agreed. 

He left you with a brief kiss before heading off to the metal bleachers that were already dotted with parents and families alike. You watched him go for a few seconds before turning back to the lineup you were in, only to find yourself face to face with George himself. You were so startled that you nearly choked over your breath but he just smiled cooly. 

“Hello, neighbour.”

“Hey.” you stumbled out. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

George glanced down at his blue baseball jersey and then back to you with a casual wave of the clipboard in his hand, “I’m the coach.”

“Oh, right, of course you are.” you chuckled faintly. 

“Your boy signing up?”

“Yeah, his name should be on the list. Richard Ridgeley.”

George, who had looked down at his clipboard after his initial question, only glanced back up at you with his eyebrows raised. 

“What?” you asked worriedly.

He licked away his smile and looked back down to his list with a half shake of his head, “Nothing.”

If it was anyone else, you would have been mad, but it was George and you knew he meant no harm. You couldn’t help but smother a smile of your own in return, “Are you making fun of my son’s name?”

“Not at all. I love alliteration. Very poetic.” 

“Okay, shut up.” you laughed. “I bet your last name is no better.”

“Russell.” he told you smoothly with a playful glance. 

You scoffed teasingly, “Of course…George Russell…what a champion kinda name.”

“Who knows…maybe I’ll be MVP before you know it and you’ll be seeing my face everywhere…getting totally sick of me.” 

“Mhm.” you tried to steady the racing of your heart at the realization that you were already trying not to see his face everywhere, desperate to change the subject, “So is my kid on the list or not?”

“Yeah, yeah, he’s here.” George crossed his name off, “I also see you’re down for snack duty.”

“Sure am. Brought my cooler and everything.” you gestured aimlessly towards the bleachers.

George looked back up at you but his eyes drifted past you with a tight smile. Before you could look over your shoulder to see what he was looking at, Andrew appeared beside you and set his hand on your back. 

“All signed up?” he asked. 

“Yeah. We’re all set.” you answered calmly. 

“Hey, mate, good to see you.” George held his hand out to your husband and they shook hands politely. 

“You too.” Andrew smiled, “It’s been a while.” 

“Sure has.” 

“Well we should let you get set up.” you said, taking a step away from George and closer to Andrew. 

“No worries.” George adjusted his cap on his head with a smile, “See ya after.”

Then he was walking off into the baseball diamond to corral the little boys to begin their practice. You and Andrew headed back to the bleachers and to the spot he had saved for you with the cooler and you sat on the metal bench between the other interested parents. It was surprising that so many parents wanted to stay and watch even if it was just a practice but it reinstated your good feelings about your new neighbourhood and how involved everyone was with the community. 

While George directed the boys through throwing drills and showing them how to swing the bats, you found yourself staring more at him than you son. There wasn’t really much to watch when the other kids were taking their turns anyway and there was something about George in those light wash blue jeans that just drew your eyes in shamelessly. They just fit so nicely over the curve of his ass and you habitually licked your lips with a focused cock of your head. 

Andrew’s arm draping around your shoulders made you jump and you pressed a hand to your heart despite his grinning face and you huffed, “You scared me.”

“That into the practice, huh?” he chuckled.

“Yeah.” you mumbled and looked back to the field for a moment, pulling Richard out of the crowd of boys with ease before you glanced back at your husband, “I’m glad you could come.”

“Of course.” Andrew smiled over at you in the evening sunshine, “Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, I dunno. With work and the longer commute and all…you’ve seemed more tired…busy.”

Andrew sighed and pulled you closer by your shoulders and you rested your head against his as he spoke to you quietly, “Yeah, it has been a lot to get used to. I’m sorry I haven’t been around much and if you feel like I’m letting you down.” 

“Oh, you’re not letting me down.” you assured him, lifting your head up again so you could give him your full attention, “I’m proud of you for sticking with it even when it gets hard. You work so hard for Ritchie and for me and I really do appreciate it.”

Andrew reached his free hand up to tap your nose lightly and you shared in his calm smile before he was guiding you towards him by the chin for a kiss or two. 

“I love you.” he whispered against your cheek.

Your eyes drifted back out to the field, “I love you too.”

At the halfway mark, George called you over with the snacks and Andrew let you slip out of his arms to do your little job. You helped to hand out the juice boxes and watermelon slices to each little boy and most said thank you - and your son even gave you a kiss with his thanks. George stood beside you to watch as his little players ate their snack and relaxed on the grass for a few minutes and once your stock was empty, you closed up your cooler. 

“Thanks again for bringing the snack.” George said as you stood up. 

“Any time.” you smiled, “Is it a rotation thing or is it one parent for the season?”

“It depends. Why, are you willing to be the designated snack-bringer?”

“For you, sure.” 

It was out of your mouth before you could think about how it would sound and George’s expression rose into a hint of amusement. 

You cleared your throat, “And the boys, of course.”

“Of course.” George nodded. 

You stared at each other for a few seconds. 

Then, his hand was on your arm, “I should get back to practice. I will expect you here with snacks next week then.”

He was gone before you could process the warmth that his touch left and you just smiled and nodded after him as he herded the snacking boys back to the diamond, the sunshine yellow '63' printed boldly on the back of his jersey. You carried your empty cooler to the bleachers again and sat yourself stiffly beside your husband who was oblivious to anything going on and, instead, was waving to your son from across the field. 

For the next week or two, you ran into George more than you’d have ideally wanted. Between school drop off and pick up, little league baseball practice, and the casual neighbourly run-ins, it was starting to feel nearly impossible to avoid him. And, at the same time, the more you saw him, the more you didn’t want to avoid him. There was something so charismatic about him that made him so easy to talk to and to confide in and you hated to confess that you took him up on his offer for tea once or twice during the week. While you sipped in his living room, there was never a silent moment as there was always something to talk about and even little Nancy was starting to warm up to you just a little. 

Despite your fluctuating feelings towards your neighbour, your guilt was something that stayed stagnant. You loved Andrew with your whole heart and you never once doubted that, but the strange warmth that spread across your skin at a mere glance at George was unlike anything you had felt before. You swore it would be something you would take to the grave. No one - especially not George or Andrew - needed to know the internal battle you were facing. 

Since your first conversation with George at his house two weeks earlier, you only started to see more and more of the truth behind your honest chat. Andrew was working himself exhausted between the commute into the city and the lengthy hours which left almost no time for you to relax as husband and wife the way you would have appreciated. You tried to talk to him here and there about it but you also didn’t want to make him feel badly - you knew he was trying his absolute best and for that you were grateful. But still, at the end of the day, you were still a woman with needs and it was growing increasingly more frustrating to sit around and wait for him to give you the satisfaction that you needed. 

The one good thing about Richard being off at school was that you had more private time which, with children, often was incredibly few and far between. With your record player on, you were listening to Madonna’s album as you vacuumed the main floor of your house, letting your mind wander on its own. Maybe it was the emptiness of your house or maybe it was a certain time in your hormonal cycle but as the seconds ticked by, your desire to tend to the house diminished greatly. Finally, the vacuum was turned off mid chore and you rested it down on the carpet before flopping back onto the couch with a huff to the ceiling. Your music played on from the other room, the familiar scratch of the vinyl record bringing comfort and you closed your eyes for a moment to let yourself be taken by the celestial voice of Madonna. 

As if with a mind of their own, your fingers inched their way over your thigh and up to the waistband of your straight leg blue jeans and you popped the button, taking an habitual glance towards the front door as if someone were going to walk right in unannounced. But you were in the complete privacy of your own home, away from the paper thin walls of Manhattan apartment buildings, and you could do as you so pleased. Your jeans were dropped to the carpeted floor. 

Propping your feet up on the edge of the coffee table in front of you, you got yourself situated comfortably within the warm embrace of the sofa cushions and your eyes were drawn to your framed wedding photo that sat on the fireplace mantle directly in front of you. Licking your lips and then your fingertips, you didn’t tear your eyes away from it as you slipped your hand down the front of your underwear and refamiliarized yourself with your body. 

It had been so long that the first graze of your fingers had your lips parting in a soft gasp, working yourself slowly without any sort of prior build up, gentle circles over your aching clit. You hadn’t realized how many weeks had gone by without any sort of touch like this until you got yourself in that position. Under slightly furrowed brows, you stared straight ahead at your wedding photo, eyes boring into those of your husband without so much as a blink; almost as if you were reconditioning yourself to direct your full entire attention at him and him alone.

No more nonsense thoughts of the neighbour. 

Even though you spoke that line to yourself in warning, the concept just tasted so good to your mind with your hand down your panties and your legs spread in the middle of your sun-bathed family room. Flashes of him at the last little league game filled your head; the way his arms looked in that snug navy blue t-shirt standing out against his lightly tanned skin…his blue eyes sparkling every time he looked at you. You couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter closed and your head fell back against the couch with a soft whimper, shutting out the framed photo with the curse of your own mind. 

Little did you know, said neighbour was on his way over to your house at that very moment with a sealed Tupperware container in hand and a whistle on his lips. The faint muffled sound of Madonna leaking through your walls brought a fond smile to George’s face as he crossed over onto your property and made strides over your perfectly trimmed grass. His attention was caught by the sight of you through the single paned front window and he went to send you a smile and a wave until he stopped in his tracks at the realization of what he had stumbled upon. 

There you were, lounged back on your couch, socked feet propped up on the coffee table with your legs spread and your hand nestled between them. The look on your face was nearly erotic as you faced the ceiling with an angelic furrowed expression and made yourself writhe under your own touch, any sounds muted by the music that filled your empty home. 

George stepped away from the front window so as to not be caught and he turned to head back home to give you your privacy but before he crossed over the property line again, something stopped him. Almost like he was held by an invisible force, he stood dumbly at the edge of your lawn, staring at his house, the Tupperware container of homemade banana bread held in his hands. Everything in him knew it was wrong but he couldn’t help but glance back to the side of your white paneled home to the side window that gave him a direct glance inside and to the couch on which you sat. 

If anyone drove by, they would have thought this man looked absolutely ridiculous just standing there, but he was captivated by you, watching you touch yourself to whatever thoughts were taking up your mind. Little did he know, but they were thoughts of him. 

His name fell from your lips when you came, almost startling yourself in the process. As your body shuttered through the small waves of your orgasm, your eyes snapped open to land on your wedding photo again as if your husband had seen the whole thing. A furious blush came to your cheeks and you panted heavily as you tried to catch your bearings and process the realization of what you had just done. Sitting up a little more on the couch, you found yourself unable to look at the framed photograph again, instead, staring wide eyed into the darkened fireplace beneath. 

A flutter through the window beside the fireplace caught your eye but when you looked, there was nothing there. You hurried to tug your jeans back on and buttoned them up before making a beeline to the kitchen to wash your hands and splash some cool water on your face. What was wrong with you? Your husband was going to walk through the door in four hours and you were going to have to kiss him hello with the mouth that just moaned another man’s name. You were going to have to face said man at the bus stop in an hour and that was the last thing you wanted to do.

Before you knew it,

“Hey.”

“Hello.”

Silence. 

“Did you have a good day?”

“Huh? Oh, me? Yeah…fine. It was fine. Nothing…important.” you looked to the sidewalk beneath your feet. 

George nodded, “Nice.”

Silence. 

“How was yours?” you asked. 

“Fine. It was good.”

“Good.”

“Good.” 

Silence. 

You urged the bus to round the corner with the pleading glance of your eyes, desperate to escape the horribly awkward situation that was completely one sided. George cleared his throat, shifting his weight from one foot to another at your side. Neither of you knew what the other knew and somehow it made it that much worse. You swore that even a few of the other parents at the bus stop were catching onto your horrible tension and you tugged at the collar of your shirt habitually to try and get some air. 

In reality, it was all in your head but, to be fair, George was all in your head too and that was the root of your issue. As you stood there, your mind taunted you with the thoughts that had clouded your mind that afternoon - curious imagination of how his lips would feel or how his hands could grab you or how his body would feel against yours, traced by your fingertips. You discreetly stepped away from him. 

In perfect time, the bright yellow school bus rounded the corner and you took that opportunity to step even further away from George, feigning it as simply excitement to see your son. Like every afternoon, Richard ran off the bus and right into your arms and you hugged him tightly with your warm maternal greeting. You barely gave George a goodbye before you were encouraging your son to race you home - a perfect excuse to get as far away from George as possible…and as quickly as possible. Of course, despite the way you ran down your street in the afternoon breeze, you still let Richard get to the front door first and you let him inside with a ruffle to his hair and one last glance from where you came, almost as if you were hoping to see your neighbour trailing after you. 

Later that evening, once Andrew was home and dinner was had and Ritchie was tucked into bed, you were desperate to repair the damage to your mind that you had caused by your own actions. Your husband was sitting in the same spot on the couch as you had been earlier that day, already in his pyjamas, a magazine in his hand as he read quietly by the light of the table lamp. He was oblivious but you felt as though just him sitting there would cause him to realize what you had done so the only way to prevent that was to bring your full and entire attention back to him - where it rightfully belonged. 

You plucked the magazine from his hands and tossed it onto the coffee table, urging his eyes to raise to your face as you tossed a leg over his lap and sat yourself down on his thighs. His hands fell to your hips just as you swooped in to kiss him purposefully, lingering on his lips for a few seconds before offering him a bit of tongue. He humoured you for a few seconds before he was tilting his head back with a soft chuckle to break your kiss. 

“What are you doing?” he asked playfully. 

You slung your arms around his shoulders and leaned forward against his chest until your noses were almost touching, asking him almost pleadingly, “Have sex with me.”

Andrew’s hands gave your hips a squeeze, “You know I love you,”

“Mhm.”

“But I’m far too tired for that right now, sugar, I’m sorry.”

“Andy.” you dropped your head back in frustration, staring at the same part of the ceiling that you had earlier that day.

“I’ll be nothing but completely disappointing to you.” he argued lightly. “You deserve my best.”

You frowned and slid off his lap onto the couch beside him with a sigh. 

“I’m sorry.” he repeated, leaving his hand on your waist to keep you close and he kissed up your neck, “It was just a really exhausting day today. Maybe this weekend, okay?”

“Since when do we have to plan it?” you tisked. 

“Since we got old.” he teased. 

A small smile perked at the corner of your lips and you swatted him gently with the back of your hand, “Speak for yourself.” 

Andrew kissed over your cheek and to your lips and you shared a few brief kisses before he replied softly, “We are the same age, in case you forgot, and thus we are going to get old together.”

Never before did that statement bring a tinge to your heart but in that moment it did and you could only pull a tight smile and nod in reply and he gave you one more kiss before shifting off the couch and taking you by the hand to lead you to bed. 

By Friday, you seemed to have fallen back into your usual routine of pretending that George didn’t exist. The few times you saw each other in passing or at the baseball games were few and far between and conversations didn’t stray farther than a polite hello or shallow discussions about your sons or the weather. Your initial guilt due to your solo situation on your couch from earlier in the week seemed to die down and you were very thankful for that. George was a great guy and you appreciated him as your neighbour and wanted to keep it that way. 

That might also have been a reason why he was the first person you thought to call when your washing machine flooded all over your basement floor just after lunch. If nothing else, he was kind and reliable. He came over right away with his tool box in hand and you opened the front door for him and led the way into the basement where the flood was occurring. The unfinished concrete floor was covered with a thin layer of cold water that only seemed to be leaking more from somewhere behind the washing machine. 

“I haven’t even used it since we moved in!” you said as you stepped cautiously through the water to your laundry basket that was sitting protected on top of the machine. “First time and of course it goes to shit.”

“It’s okay.” George set his tool box on top of the adjacent dryer and then leaned over the two machines to see down between them and the wall, flashlight in hand. “Good you called. Wouldn’t want you flooding away.”

“My new house at that.” you added. 

“Exactly.” George wrapped his hands around the sides of the washer and warned you politely, “Step back a bit.”

When you did, he heaved the machine away from the wall with a tight grunt and your eyes widened at the bulge of his biceps under his t-shirt. It certainly wasn’t a light thing to move so you coloured yourself impressed and you stayed out of his way as he managed to give himself enough space to get between the washer and the wall with a wrench from his tool box. You clutched your hands together and held them anxiously in front of your mouth as you watched him crouched down working, focusing your attention on hoping there was no damage done to your house rather than how his jeans fit him so nicely over his thighs.

“Nothing major.” he called out with his head still hidden by the washing machine, “Just a loose pipe. Guess they weren’t installed correctly.” 

“Damn.” you tisked.

“Yeah,” George chuckled, his voice tight as he worked the wrench around the pipe to fix it for you, “That’s what you can expect from these installers on new builds. They’re getting sloppy.” 

“You seem to know what you’re doing.”

George straightened up carefully from behind the washing machine, “Same thing happened to us when we moved in, if you can believe. I actually liked to pay attention to what the plumber was telling me…and guess it helped to save you $30.”

Your eyes widened, “$30? My Lord.” 

“Yeah,” George chuckled and set his wrench back in his tool box, “Should be all set now. If you have some towels we can use to mop up the floor that could be good. I can restart this load for you.”

“Sure. Thanks.” you headed back upstairs and traipsed your damp footsteps up to the second floor to retrieve all your towels you owned from the linen cupboard in the main bathroom. 

Bringing them all back to the basement, George had restarted your load of laundry that you had attempted to put on - including detergent and fabric softener and even set it to the correct wash cycle for your blouses. He then showed you the most efficient way to mop up the water with the towels without allowing it to leak into the foundation of the house and you couldn’t help but be impressed by his knowledge base. 

“I can’t thank you enough.” you said with a relieved sigh as you both stood on the bottom step of the basement stairs and admired the organized mess of towels soaking up the water.

“No problem at all.” George assured you modestly, “Was the most interesting thing to happen today.”

“Yeah, I bet.” you chuckled, “Nothing like a damsel in distress call to really shake up the lunch hour.”

“Hardly a damsel in distress.” George brushed his hand over your back casually, “You’re perfectly capable in many ways.”

You met his eye in the dim basement lighting before turning to look back up the flight of stairs as you cleared your throat, “Did you want tea or anything?”

“Sure. If you’re offering.” 

As you led the way back upstairs and into your kitchen, you realized that was the first time he was in your house. Of course, it was when your basement was flooding and you had breakfast dishes still in the sink and Richard’s toy cars scattered all over the family room and part of you felt embarrassed as if you had to impress him for some reason. 

“Sorry that the place is such a mess.” you rushed out as you hurried across the kitchen to try and make the mound of dishes in the sink look less disgusting. 

“No need to apologise.” George tisked, “Realities of parenthood. I get it. I don’t judge.” 

“Yeah.” you sent a calm smile over at him in silent thanks before focusing on filling up the kettle in the sink, ready to make you both tea just like he did for you that first day you truly talked. 

George set his tool box on the round kitchen table and stuffed his hands in the front pockets of his jeans as he walked slowly around the kitchen and took in your shiny new house that was already starting to look like a home. The counter by the hallway archway was covered in pens and stamps and opened mail on which your address was written on each and addressed to ‘Mr and Mrs Andrew J Ridgeley’. George looked away, walking across the linoleum floor towards you and he leaned against the counter beside the stove as you turned on the burner and set the kettle down on top. 

“Where’s Nancy today?” you asked casually. 

“Oh, sometimes she goes to work with Jenn on Fridays and spends the day at the daycare in the office building. She has a few little friends there and whatnot so she likes it.” George explained. 

“That’s nice.” you replied, “So on Fridays you really feel like an empty-nester like me, huh?”

George laughed faintly, “Yeah, I suppose I do.”

“Good thing I saved you then today.”

“Very good thing.” George agreed smoothly. 

There was a calm pause between you as the kettle boiled on the stovetop and you looked away from his light-eyed gaze with a casual lick to your lips. You tapped your fingers against the countertop. 

“Y’know,” George said, “I was worried you were avoiding me recently or something.”

You looked back at him, “What?”

“I just felt like you’ve been going out of your way not to talk to me or something so getting your call today kinda reassured me that we’re still on good terms.”

You let out a half laugh and rested your hand against your forehead for a brief moment in near embarrassment, “Actually…I kinda was, honestly.”

George’s eyes widened, “Oh? Did I do something?”

“No, no.” you assured him quickly, “We have just been spending a lot of time together and I didn’t want Andy to get the wrong idea.”

“Did he say something?”

“Well…no…but-”

“Then what wrong idea is there to get?”

You let out a soft nervous laugh without looking away from the steaming kettle but you didn’t offer him any sort of response. George cocked his head to the side slightly in acknowledgment that he was listening for your reasoning. You had his undivided attention. Why did it make you nervous?

“You’re just…” you sighed despite the anxious smile that you couldn’t lick away, staring unwaveringly at the stove, “Really sweet and really personable and I don’t want to get too comfortable and too close to where Andy might feel uncomfortable or suspicious. Or Jennifer, for that matter. There are boundaries, you know? I don’t want to overstep.”

“And if there weren’t boundaries? What would be different?”

The kettle whistled and you stalled in answering his question by taking it from the stove and turning off the burner so you could pour the water into the mugs to steep. Finally, you set the empty kettle back down and forced yourself to look at him, “I don’t think it’s appropriate to be talking about this.” 

“You started it.”

“I didn’t say anything.” you countered quickly, covering your bases. 

“It’s not what you’re saying…it’s how you’re saying it.” George said smoothly. You were suddenly very attuned to how warm and rich his voice was and your eyes flicked across his face like they always did when he was around, wanting to look at every inch of him. He continued purposefully, “How you can’t stop staring at me, especially.”

You scoffed and turned away from him with a blush rising to your cheeks, “I’m not staring at you.”

“You were. You often do.” George teased. “I’m not a complete idiot, I know when someone is checking me out.”

“I don’t-” you laughed nervously down to your steaming mugs of tea, your hands falling gently onto the edge of the counter, “I don’t check you out.” 

“Yes, you do.” George laughed just the same. “It’s okay. I don’t mind it. It’s flattering.”

You opened your mouth to reply with some defence but no words came to mind and you shut your mouth with a frustrated little huff and you pressed the heels of your palms against your eyes for a moment. With your cheeks so warm they could keep your tea hot, you almost wanted to leave if it wasn’t for the fact that it was your own kitchen you were both standing in. 

When your hands dropped loudly to your sides, George leaned his hip against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest as he asked in retaliation, “Do you mind when I check you out?”

Offering a disbelieving laugh, you glanced over at him, “You don’t check me out.”

“Why do you say that?” he questioned. 

“Why?” you were taken aback, “Because I dunno. Because why would you?”

“Because you’re beautiful.” George answered. “And I most definitely stare at you…although I must be better at hiding it than you are.”

You kept your eyes on his, eyebrows furrowing for a brief moment, and you let a faint smile prick at your lips as you gave him a faint shake of your head. 

“Can I confess something?” he asked. 

“Sure.”

“The other day I came over here to bring you some banana bread I had baked but…I saw that you were already occupied on the couch.” he gestured haphazardly behind him towards your family room. “And I might have stared at you a little then.”

Your eyes widened and you raised your hands to your cheeks in realization, “Oh my God.”

“I’m really sorry, I should have just left when I first noticed but…” George sighed, “You looked fucking gorgeous when you were touching yourself like that.”

“That’s so embarrassing.” you mumbled despite your smile and the eye contact you kept with him. 

“No, it’s not.” George shrugged, “We’re human…we can do whatever we need to in the privacy of our own homes.”

“With peeping neighbours in our windows.” you teased. 

“Hey, now.” he laughed, reaching out to gently nudge your arm, “Not like I was standing out there with binoculars in one hand and my dick in the other.”

Your smile faltered for a second as if he had completely read your thoughts from that day and how you shamefully fantasized about him as you made yourself cum on your family couch. George’s hand grazed down your arm and his finger linked in the sleeve of your blouse for a brief moment as if he were debating something in his own mind. 

Then, his eyes focused on yours once more and he asked as casually as the weather, “What were you thinking about?”

It was a question that would ultimately change the course of your life depending on how you answered but at the moment, you didn’t think that deeply about it. He was right there and he already confessed that he liked it when he stumbled across you like that, the least he deserved was an honest answer. Not to mention the gorgeous blue of his eyes was so mesmerizing that maybe you were a bit dizzy by him as you breathed out a soft, “You.”

Pin drop silence. 

Unbreakable eye contact. 

And then he was grabbing you by the back of your neck and yanking you towards him for a kiss that burned every inch of your skin. 

Your hands grasped the front of his t-shirt to hold him as close as possible, letting your lips mould sloppily together in some sort of semblance of a kiss that easily progressed into more. Standing at the counter in your kitchen, you grabbed onto each other like you were life preservers and he kissed you with so much passion that you had nearly forgotten what it had been like to be craved so carnally like that. He nearly took the breath from your lungs, bending over you until your back was arched and your body took the shape of his. Your hands tangled in the back of his hair as your lips smacked together wetly, tongues pushing together for a greedy taste of infidelity; although your spouses were the last things on your minds. 

The steeping tea was forgotten about as he guided you backwards blindly across the kitchen and you gently hit the edge of the opposite counter, giving him the chance to grab the backs of your thighs and hoist you up onto it. Right away, your arms and legs were slinging around his body and yanking him closer all without breaking your kiss, sharing hungry moans into each other's mouths. Your fingers tightened in his soft hair but your aggression just pulled a handsome groan from his throat that tasted like heaven against your tongue. 

With your ankles linked behind his back, you used the heels of your feet to pull him closer to the counter as you rested near the edge so the front of his blue jeans were pressed up snugly against yours, getting your fix of that fiery touch after so long, regardless of who it was. Your eyes were shut tightly with greed, taking what you wanted from his lips with your body arching against his. George’s hands on your hips pressed indentations of his fingerprints into your flesh and he held you against him as he grinded against you faintly. 

The sweet moan that fell from your lips had him moving like that again, rutting the front of his jeans right up between your spread legs, creating that friction that satisfied the craving of pleasure that you ached for. You moved with him faintly, grinding against his body in return from your spot on the edge of the kitchen counter until you both were turning more and more desperate from it. 

George broke away from your kiss first and his hands shoved up the bottom of your blouse and lifted it over your head so it could be tossed aimlessly to the floor. You panted heavily to the kitchen as he moved his kisses down your neck and over your breasts that were tucked in your unflattering bra but he didn’t mind one bit. He groaned against your chest as he sank to his knees in front of the counter, “You’re fucking sexy.” 

“Holy shit.” you exhaled, lifting your bum off the countertop when he popped the button on your jeans so he could yank them off you. 

“That’s it.” George licked his lips as he guided your feet back until your heels were tucked on the edge so you were spread open for him, only separated by your underwear. He leaned in close and dusted his nose right up between your legs before his tongue was following, teasing your pussy over your underwear with the faintest of touches that still managed to make you squirm. He stared up at you from his knees, sending you a teasing wink as his fingers linked in the hem of your panties and he started to pull them down too, “I’ve wanted to do this for too fucking long.”

Once they were dropped to the floor too and your feet were back in place where he wanted them, you could barely rush out a reply, “Me too.”

In reality, you hadn’t truly realized you wanted that until you were put in that position but the images that your mind pictured earlier that week certainly might have proved otherwise. 

He touched you like you were a masterpiece, gliding two fingers down between your glistening folds with his lips parted in near awe, watching how your wetness clung to his fingertips greedily. You raked a hand through his hair to guide his face in too and he gladly obeyed, nustling his tongue alongside his fingers with a gorgeous exhale that sent shivers up your spine. The caresses of his tongue were devine and he teased around your clit and down across your pussy in gentle strokes that had your head lolling to the side. 

Being in that position wasn’t new to you - you had a husband after all - but you weren’t aware of how limited your experience might have been until George had you there. His first few touches and licks were expected and you offered him soft hums in appreciation, your teeth sunken into your bottom lip faintly as you watched him between your thighs. But then his large hands were sliding around your thighs and his fingers pressed into your flesh, his wedding ring on his left hand shimmering in the early afternoon sunlight, and he was nuzzling his face deeper with quick laps of his tongue. Your mouth fell open at his insistence and your hand in his hair gripped tighter in surprise. 

“Oh-” you stumbled out faintly. 

George tugged you closer to the edge of the counter as he slurped at your cunt until he was sucking on your clit and your head tossed back with a sharp gasp and your back straightened up. 

“Fuck!” you squeaked.

He hummed against you, blue eyes staring straight up your body to gauge your every reaction as he tongued at your clit in quick strokes. The feeling was intense and you didn’t know what to do with yourself as you gaped dumbly into your kitchen and almost choked over your breath, eyes struggling to stay open, and your hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair ended up slamming flatly against the side of your refrigerator. The upper cabinets caught your head as you let out a loud moan to the ceiling, toes curling over the edge of the countertop, and George only grabbed tighter to your thighs to hold you on his mouth. 

Your hand tightened in his hair although you couldn’t decide if you were pulling him closer or wanting to push him away with how strong the pleasure was that he built within you. You mouthed a silent chant of “fuck, fuck, fuck-” to your kitchen ceiling, gaping dumbly to the light fixture. George took his right hand back just long enough to slip two fingers in his mouth before he was guiding them slowly inside your leaking pussy. 

“Oh God-” you whined tightly. 

“Good girl.” he praised warmly against your cunt as his fingers started to thrust into you shallowly but strongly. “This what you were thinking about?”

“Mhm-” you could only nod cluelessly, barely able to make out what he was saying thanks to the ringing of your ears that was brought on by the pleasure he introduced to your body. 

His tongue flicked faster at your clit and his fingers nudged up against that warm spongy spot just inside you at a perfect consistent pace. The moans that tumbled from your lips were nearly involuntary, coaxed out of you by his generous touch, until you were sure the neighbours could hear - if it weren’t for the fact that your neighbour was the one between your legs at that very moment. All your stresses and anxieties from the prior few short weeks seemed to fall away and the rush of pleasure that tore through your body completely made up for it. 

You felt dizzy and you rested your head back heavily against the upper cabinets behind you with your eyes screwed shut, barely able to choke out a, “Yes-”

George gripped you tighter and kept his pace going, keeping his eyes on your face even if you weren’t looking at him. He analyzed your every flutter of expression to see just how you wanted it, smothering a half smirk at the displeased huff that you let out when he gave his tongue a break to suck on your clit instead. The change up took a second to get used to but you had never been so catered to before so you weren’t one to complain, tightening your fingers in his soft hair while he worked wonders on you. 

Then that build up was forming again, flushing warmth across your skin, and you gaped down to him, “Yeah, yeah, yeah-”

George didn’t move a muscle from exactly where you needed him even as your legs started to quiver from where you were held open. You choked over your next breath as the first wave of pleasure tore down your spine and George gripped onto your thighs to hold you steady on the edge of the kitchen counter as you came on his mouth. His name fell from your lips like it was second nature and it truly felt so much better when he was there to hear it himself. 

He pulled away once you started to get sensitive and he pulled his fingers out of you as he stood up and he rubbed along your messy cunt in lazy strokes. Your hand in his hair slid around the back of his neck and pulled him in for another open mouthed kiss, instantly sharing the taste of you that lingered on his tongue and you sucked on it greedily. George blindly unbuttoned his jeans while he kissed you, barely able to drop them and his underwear to the floor before you were tucking your legs around his waist again and tugging him closer. 

“No one’s ever gone down on me like that before.” you confessed breathily between feverish kisses.

“No?” George chuckled cockily into your mouth, kicking his jeans off his ankles and across your kitchen floor, “Well good thing you have me.”

You offered a sweet “mhm” in reply that was quickly swallowed up by his lips once more. 

He grabbed your thighs again and tugged you closer to the edge of the counter, “This okay?”

“Yeah.” you slung both your arms around his shoulders, leaving one hand in his hair and the other grasping onto the back of his shirt. 

“You want this?” he asked breathily. 

“You have no idea.” 

The two of you shared faint laughter that was swallowed up by a few more sloppy lustful kisses before George was breaking away from you long enough to look down between you so he could angle the head of his cock against your slick cunt. You shuttered slightly in anticipation, clinging onto the back of his shirt as you breathed him in greedily with your nose pressed against his cheek. 

George pushed inside you slowly and once that aching stretch came to spread across your hips, your eyes met closely as your mouth fell open with a soft gasp. His eyes darted across your face before his lips were capturing yours in a sensual kiss and he slid deeper inside you with his hands grabbing at your doughy hips, sinking himself into your body. The wavering breath he let out into your mouth was laced so perfectly with the faintest moan and you felt it right through your body, making your muscles flutter around him. 

“Holy shit.” George slid a hand around the back of neck, his fingers nestled in the roots of your hair, and he pulled your lips harder onto his with an underlying sense of urgency that burned hot over your skin. And, as he did, he started to thrust into you hungrily, sharing in your whimpering moan that blessed your kiss. 

“Fuck.” you choked out, your grip tightening on the fabric of his shirt as if to pull him impossibly closer. 

Your kisses were messy from the quick aggression with which he fucked you on your kitchen counter but you kept at it like you never wanted to stop, unable to get enough of each other and the addictive drug of sin that joined you together. When even what he gave you didn’t feel sufficient enough, you pressed your heels into the flesh of his ass to try and get him to give you more, whining desperately against his tongue-led kisses. He stopped completely, nestled as deep inside you as he could fit, and your head dropped back against the upper cabinets behind you with a warm moan at the glorious fullness he offered you. George grabbed your ass and pulled your body right up against his so he could lift you up off the counter and into his arms. 

You gasped in surprise but clung onto him tightly, trusting him entirely to do whatever he pleased, and your hands splayed across his back over the thin material of his shirt to feel the way his toned back flexed as he held your body weight. He carried you through the adjacent doorway into the dining room and through the spacious archway into the front living room, the afternoon sun streaking in through the large picture window at the front of the house. The carpet was soft beneath his feet and hid his footsteps as he blindly navigated his way to the couch, still taken up by your lips that kissed him like he was more important than air. George sat himself down heavily on the couch with you perched perfectly on his lap, his dick still tucked warmly inside you. 

“Mm, my God.” you withered, driven by humanistic lust, and you were right away starting to bounce on his lap. 

“Holy fuck, you’re sexy.” George groaned, slumping back comfortably on your couch that had been a wedding gift to you and your husband. He stared up at you with dilated blue eyes and he licked his lips at the sight, his large hands on your hips following your eager motions. But despite the obvious intent you held, he still reminded you politely, “You tell me if it’s too much.”

“It’s not.” you insisted strongly, grounding your hands flat against his chest so he was held down on the couch and you had the leverage to ride him harder. You had wanted that for what felt like weeks now and even though you had initially wanted it from your husband, you couldn’t be completely blamed for finding it elsewhere. 

“Oh my God, look at you.” he breathed in near awe, “You want it so bad.” 

You couldn’t bite back the sly smile that pricked at the corner of your mouth even if you scrunched your eyes shut and tilted your head back in some effort to keep him from seeing the effect he had on you. Your skin clapped lewly against his thighs with every bounce, tainting your marital home each and every time. The feeling of his hand around your throat startled you slightly. 

“This okay?” he asked. 

“Fuck, yeah.” you stumbled out. 

That wasn’t new either and you had your fair share of more kinky interactions with your husband before he was your husband and before parental responsibilities and careers started to diminish the passion. It had been far too long. 

“Harder.” you ordered. 

George’s hand squeezed your throat a little tighter, “Better?”

“Mhm.” you withered, still messily bouncing on his lap. 

“What do you say?” 

His demand took you by surprise but it was invigorating and you looked down at him and his handsome lust filled expression, offering him an angelic, “Thank you.” 

“Thank you, sir.” he corrected you smoothly. 

You nearly choked over your breath and the obvious reaction to that simple demand had Georges smirking proudly under you as you tried to keep riding him on your couch. 

His hand tightened around your neck a little more, ordering you strongly, although his voice could never get rid of the undertones of gentleness, “Say it.” 

“Thank you, sir.” you exhaled. 

“Good girl. You’re doing such a good fucking job.” 

“You feel so fucking good inside me.” you whimpered. “I don’t wanna stop.” 

“Don’t. Keep going until you make yourself cum.”

A soft chuckle left your lips as you confessed, “I can’t cum like this.”

“No?” George tugged at your neck to urge you down on top of him so you were chest to chest and he could kiss you. 

You took that opportunity to rut yourself against him greedily, rocking your hips back and forth on his lap with your clit rubbing faintly against his pelvis just enough to get a little huff out of you against his lips. George let go of your throat to take two handfuls of your ass instead and he guided you into stronger motions against his body, keeping you on his cock even as you used his body to stimulate your aching clit. Your fingers fisted the front of his shirt tightly, moaning into his mouth while his tongue pushed insistently against yours until you were falling breathless. 

When he slid his hands up your back, you tried to keep yourself going the way he had started for you but it wasn’t the same. Before you could beg for him to help you again, he was swallowing you up in his arms and smoothly sliding one of his legs under him so he could flip you over and drop you both lengthwise across the living room couch with him rightfully on top of you. 

“Fuck.” you squeaked, throwing your arms around his shoulders just as he started thrusting into you roughly, forcing your head back against the arm of the couch with a choked, “Sh-Shit!” 

“Better?” George taunted against your cheek.

“Yes, sir.” you whimpered. 

His chuckle was low and warm and your toes curled at the sound, legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close. But he would never dream of stopping, not when he had you where he had dreamt of having you for as long as you had imagined the same about him. 

What had started as a somewhat cautious rendezvous had quickly moulded into a carnally lustful hookup, entirely trusting of each other, and he wasn’t holding back as he fucked you on your couch harder than you had been in a while. You couldn’t even manage to form words as you stared up at him above you with your mouth agape and your eyebrows furrowed with intense pleasure, stupid little moans tumbling freely from your throat as language abandoned you. His icy stare was steamy hot and you refused to look away for even a second, raking your nails across the back of his t-shirt until the fabric was definitely being creased and wrinkled. 

“Want me to make you cum, sweetheart?” 

His voice was ethereal and you could have finished from that sentence alone, the pet name causing your swollen cunt to tighten around him for a moment. 

“Use your words.” George teased. 

“Please,” you forced out, “sir.” 

“Can you cum like this?” he asked softly. 

You nodded quickly, already feeling the seeds of an impending orgasm blossoming inside you, “Yeah.” 

“Yeah?” George chuckled, nudging his knees across the floral couch cushion to be a bit closer to you, keeping his thrusts so perfectly deep, and when he sat back from you just enough to get his hand around your throat again, he was at the perfect angle to hit your g-spot dead on. When you took in a sharp breath at the quick rising pleasure from his minor adjustment, he smirked down at you, “You needed it that bad, huh? Already gonna cum for me?” 

“Yes, sir.” you repeated dumbly up to him, swimming in a euphoric haze, “Please don’t stop.” 

“No way, baby.” he promised, keeping your unwavering eye contact, “Wanna feel you cum all over my fucking cock.” 

“Please.” you breathed, face scrunching up from the intense sensations. “Please-“

George was on the same wavelength as he was blessed with the glorious feeling of your body, already feeling himself falling into his own rising pleasure. His hand that wasn’t taken to your throat was gripping the arm of the couch beside your head and with every thrust, his hair was falling farther over his forehead on beautiful messy waves. You wanted to kiss him again but you wanted him to make you cum more, so you didn’t dare move him from his positioning, taking the view gladly instead as your attention was all on him and your fingers stayed locked around the fabric of his shirt. 

“Fuck, that’s a good girl, I can feel you tightening up already.” George spoke down to you, his voice so rich and heavenly you swore it made you dizzy. 

“I’m gonna cum.” you whimpered loudly, head lifting from the arm of the couch so you could peer down your body and watch how he fucked you, the sight of his dick disappearing inside you before pulling back out almost all the way covered in your glistening wetness in rapid succession only making your impending orgasm feel stronger and stronger. You were almost sure you were going to rip his shirt right off him as you squeaked out, “Fuck, fuck fuck, right there, right there-“ 

“Uh huh?” George’s jaw clenched as he tried to hold himself back for the sake of you as the priority. You had to finish first. 

The moment that the first wave of pleasure hit you, your entire body shuttered and your head tossed back against the arm of the couch with a silent gape to the ceiling, eyes screwed shut. Then it was all let out with the most beautiful trembling moan George had ever heard and you filled your silent house with the sounds of your euphoria and the praise of his name, painting the walls in sin. You hadn’t cum that hard in a while to the point where you almost blacked out from the strength of it and your body wrapped itself around George to yank him down on top of you for something to hold onto. 

That just made it even more impossible for him to stop as he kept fucking you right through it, groaning loudly against your cheek as he fought against your vice-like grip around his aching cock. He was getting sloppy with it, losing himself in the warm wet heaven of your pussy and the lewd sound it filled the living room with. Your ankles linked behind his back and pulled him in deeper, gasping and whimpering in sensitivity that you pushed aside to bask in the glorious and reliving pleasure he brought you. 

“I…” George choked out, dipping his face into your neck as you held each other tightly, “I’m gonna fucking cum.” 

“Gimme it.” you pleaded. “Please, sir.” 

Forward thinking was not your priority in that moment as all you craved was for him to claim you completely, filthily, beautifully. For all you cared, this could have just been one perfectly intense dream and you wanted to make the absolute most of it. 

With a few more thrusts, George was shoving hard into you once more and as his dick throbbed inside you, he came strongly, spurting thickly as deep as he could reach. Your mouth fell open at the feeling and one hand flew to his hair to tangle in the soft strands and hold his face in your neck as he moaned heavenly against your flushed skin. He ground into you greedily, giving you everything he had and it made your mouth water, your head tilting back to stare up at the living room ceiling with a mouthed ‘oh my God’. 

“Fuck.” George huffed, gently allowing his body weight to rest on top of you completely. 

You welcomed him gladly and enveloped him in your embrace and even kissed his head and his faint breathy chuckle at your action had you smiling. The pleasure hormones swirled around your mind and body and before they could fade away, George was sliding his hand over your cheek and guiding your lips to his for a slow, sensual, breathless kiss. 

The two of you made out like that on the couch for a few minutes, what was once such a rush now dimmed down to lazy yet purely passionate kisses in the silence of your marital home. He was still tucked inside you and feeling his body so close with yours was addicting. Your fingers scratched through the back of his hair and he broke your kiss to rest his head against your collarbones. 

“I needed that so fucking bad, oh my God.” George sighed. 

“Me too.” you confessed lightly. 

“It’s been way too long.”

“Tell me about it.”

There was a moment of silence as the reality of your situation settled on your minds. 

“We really did that.” you exhaled. 

“Yeah.” George sighed. 

“Do you regret it?” 

George lifted his head from your shoulder to look at you properly, “Do you?”

“I asked you first.”

A faint smile pricked at the corner of his mouth and he answered with a soft, “No.”

You trailed your hand out of his hair and down the side of his neck to guide him in for a chasté kiss, “Me neither.” 

George gave you one more kiss before he was carefully sitting back from you, “Our tea is probably cold.”

You giggled softly, “Probably.” 

“Want me to get you your clothes?”

“Please.” 

He carefully pulled out and you let your hand take his place, staying on your back to keep from leaking out onto the couch, and he disappeared back into the kitchen. For the few seconds he was gone, you stared wide-eyed out the front window to the tree-lined street, the heavy side of reality settling onto your consciousness. If you had felt guilty about your thoughts the last weeks, then this was unimaginable. You committed arguably the ultimate sin in marriage - how would you ever come back from this? 

“Here you go.”

George held out your underwear to you first and you glanced up at him - now fully dressed himself - and you took them from him with a soft thanks. He helped you up from the couch and you hurried to shimmy your clothes on while he watched you. 

“This should be a one time thing, right?” you said after a moment. 

“Yeah, probably.” George sighed. 

“And…just between us?” 

“Of course.” he agreed quickly. “We don’t want to…mess everything up.”

“Yeah.” you smiled faintly, thankful that he understood. 

You could see him hesitate for a moment before he was taking your hand and leaning in to kiss you again. Despite the events that had just happened, the move made you a little shy and you pulled away a second later with a bashful smile to the ground. His thumb brushed over your skin lazily and as you stood together in your living room face to face in the afternoon sun, you felt drawn into him to steal another gentle kiss from his plush lips. Without sharing a word or any additional touch, you kissed softly, innocently, for a few long seconds before breaking away from each other again. You licked your lips that tasted like him and he noticed with a fond smile. 

“The school bus should be here soon.” he said. 

“Mhm.” you hummed, only half paying attention as your gaze was transfixed by his swollen lips. 

“We can walk together if you want.” 

“Mhm.” 

There was another momentary silence between you and George’s faint bite to his bottom lip had your eyebrows naturally peaking for a split second. He could read your face like it was the front page of the morning paper. 

“This isn’t going to be a one time thing, is it?”

You shook your head and took the half step closer to him as you leaned in for another tender kiss. 

He was everywhere in your house now. Everywhere you looked it was tainted with George and you were worried that it showed all over your face. The kitchen...the living room…everywhere you looked. That very same night you stood in the kitchen preparing dinner while Richard watched TV in the family room and you tried not to think about the memories that the counter behind you held or pay attention to the constant leak that dampened your panties under your jeans. Andrew would be home in no time and you had only that long to compose yourself enough to face him like nothing was wrong. 

The phone on the kitchen wall rang loudly, startling you dramatically and your head whipped around to it. You set the knife down on the cutting board and wiped your hands on your apron as you made your way over to it. Without thinking twice, you answered it with a casual, “Hello?”

“Hey, my love. It’s me.”

Your grip tightened on the receiver at your husband’s voice and you cleared your throat before answering, “Hi, Andy. What’s going on?”

“I just heard news that the boss wants me to come out for dinner with a potential client tonight so I won’t be home until a bit later. Nothing crazy but we’re hoping to get them onboard with this pitch and apparently bottomless wine is the way to do it.” his soft chuckle acted as a way to cover up his disappointment - you knew that well after your few years together. 

“Oh. Okay.” you looked to the ground, silently grateful you wouldn’t have to face him until later. 

“I’m really sorry, sugar.” Andrew said softly through the phone, “I’ll make it up to you. I promise.”

“No, no. That’s okay. Do what you gotta do.” you pulled the most chipper voice you could. 

“I’ll make you proud.”

You slouched your shoulder against the wall, “You always do, Andy.” 

“Tell Ritchie I say hello and I love him. I won’t be back before his bedtime.” 

“Of course. Be safe, okay?”

“I will. I love you.”

You nibbled your bottom lip for a half second before answering through the guilt that burned within you, “I love you too, honey.” 

It was almost 11pm when you heard the front door open. Richard had long been put to bed - although not without asking for Andrew a half dozen times and trying to stall bedtime so he could see him before he slept - and even you had retired to bed yourself. With a book in hand, you were in your nightgown on your side of the bed in the warm light of your bedside lamp, trying to look as nonchalant as possible for when your husband would return home. He didn’t need to know a single thing and especially not how often you had been thinking of how George’s night was going since you had parted that afternoon. 

Each quiet footstep on the stairs had your heart racing but you had all evening to calm yourself so you had belief that you were definitely able to play it cool. So, when the bedroom door opened and Andrew stepped inside in his black work slacks and pale blue button up, you offered him a loving smile. He closed the door behind him again so as to not wake your son and it was then that you noticed the small bouquet of flowers in his hand. Your smile faltered for a moment, feeling an uncomfortable weight settling in your chest. 

Andrew just kept his warm grin and he walked over to your bedside to lean down to greet you with a kiss and the flowers, “Happy anniversary, sugar.” 

You didn’t know what to say for a moment, using all your willpower to keep the smile on your face despite the fact that you completely forgot it had been your wedding anniversary of all days. But you closed your book and set it on your bedside table, “Aw, thank you, my love.”

“I’m really sorry I missed most of the day.” Andrew said, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“That’s okay.” you brushed it off easily since you did much worse that day, “You’re here now.”

“Finally.” Andrew took the flowers across the room and set them on the dresser still in their cellophane so he could get ready for bed. “And it’s Friday, thank God.”

You watched him loosen his tie and then slide it off from around his neck and he dropped it on the dresser before starting to unbutton his shirt. 

You tried to keep casual conversation, “How was the dinner?”

“It went really well actually.” Andrew said, “Got them on board and they will be signed with us on Monday.” 

“That’s great! Although I didn’t have any doubts; you’re their best guy anyway.” 

“You flatter me,” Andrew glanced over at you with a sweet smile as he walked across the room and draped his shirt over the back of the armchair. He then unbuckled his belt before it, too, was joining the forming pile on the chair and he dropped his slacks, “But now I don’t want to think about work because it’s now the weekend and it’s our anniversary and all my attention is yours. I told you I’d make today up to you.”

“That’s okay.” you assured him softly. “I’m not upset.” 

“I am.” he protested gently and your eyes followed him back across the room and around to his side of the bed. He pushed back the sheets and climbed in beside you in only his underwear, telling you honestly, “I’ve felt so badly saying no to you so much the last little while.”

“It’s really okay, honey.” you promised, lolling your head to the side to look at him. 

“Nope, not accepting that.” he tapped your nose, “I can tell I was doing nothing but disappointing you and I don’t like doing that. Not that we need an excuse but I think our anniversary is the best time to get back at it, you reckon?” 

You didn’t realize how hard you were biting your bottom lip until the pad of his thumb gently swiped over it to get you to let go and then he slid his hand around the side of your face and guided you in for a soft kiss. You tried to push the guilty thoughts to the back of your mind and focus on your kind-hearted husband at your side who, even after an insanely long work day, still wanted to give you what you wanted. There was no doubt in your mind that you were still in love with him, but you kept your new secret locked away in order to prevent hurting the man you loved. 

Andrew was obviously clueless to your internal affairs and his kisses were just as passionate as ever, still managing to erupt butterflies in your stomach with every lingering lock of your lips. Your fingers wrapped around his wrist of the hand that cradled your face and the fact that he didn’t have an ounce of suspicion from the taste of your lips that had kissed another man made you sure that you could have your cake and eat it too. It was almost thrilling. 

Your husband broke your kiss and reached under the sheets to tug at the hem of your nightgown, “Wanna take this off for me?” 

You gladly pulled it over your head and tossed it to the carpeted floor beside the bed and he moved in again to kiss your neck while his hand trailed down your naked body and traced the shape of your breasts and the peak of one of your nipples. He definitely knew where to touch you and that was never a question, proven by the way your eyes fluttered shut when his lips grazed just the right spot under your ear and his tongue against your skin pulled shivers down your spine. 

You took the initiative to shuffle yourself on the mattress so you could lay yourself down properly against your pillow and Andrew was following after you gladly, laying half on top of you with his forearm holding him up at your side. Your hands guided his lips back to yours and you shared deepening kisses in the warmth of your shared bedroom. With your fingers tangled in the back of his short brown hair, you shared the responsibility of guiding your kisses until his tongue was nudging against yours. Opening up for him was easy but there was that tiny worry in the back of your mind wondering if somehow he could tell who else you had been kissing in his absence. 

In reality, Andrew was perfectly clueless, and he trailed his hand down your bare body and under the sheets and right over the front of your panties. You hummed pleasantly into his kiss and spread your legs a little more for him, urging his hand to rub strongly across your clothed pussy. After a few seconds, he was pulling away from your lips with a faint smile at the corner of his mouth and you met his gaze with your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“Oh my God,” Andrew chuckled breathily, his hand still helping itself between your legs, “You’re so wet.”

You could only offer him a soft giggle that he kissed away greedily. 

“I’ve kept you waiting that long, hm?” he teased against your mouth. 

You could only manage a faint nod into his kisses.

He didn’t need to know that most of that wetness he was feeling was thanks to your neighbour. 

Andrew pulled away from your lips for a moment so he could focus on shoving down your underwear under the blankets and you blindly helped to kick them off to get lost under the sheets. Once his fingers found your cunt again, you were pulling his lips back on yours by the back of his neck, silently praying he couldn’t feel the remnants of George’s cum still leaking out of you. But he was blissfully unaware as he touched you like that, fingers rubbing at your clit and then sliding between your glistening folds and back up, his lips pulling hungry kisses from your own. 

When he finally pulled away from your lips, you followed his lead to hold up the sheets to let him shuffle himself underneath them, sharing soft laughter at the ungraceful nature of it as he got himself between your legs. You let the bed sheets fall overtop of him and you adjusted your pillow under your head with a nervous lick to your lips as you stared up at the ceiling. You were sure there was no way he could know - it had been all afternoon and evening after all - but a part of you couldn’t help but feel nervous. 

The first touch of his tongue against your pussy had your eyelids fluttering and your breath shuttering in your chest. He nudged your legs open wider and his hands wrapped around your thighs, holding you open for his mouth and the gentle caresses of his tongue. Your eyes bore into the ceiling, focusing on the touches of your husband beneath your bedsheets, shamefully thinking back to that afternoon when George had you up on your kitchen counter and ate your pussy like it was his last meal. Andrew’s lazy and gentle strokes weren’t bad, just…different. Familiar. Expected. 

He moved as if he were cleaning you up rather than aiming to make you messier and although it felt good, it still fell short. You shut your eyes and tried to focus on it a little more, offering a soft hum to the dimly lit bedroom as your fingers grasped the pillow you were lying on. You exhaled to the ceiling, trying to relax yourself into the mattress without thinking too hard about the fact that your husband was pretty much eating another man’s cum out of you at that very moment. 

After only a few more seconds, Andrew pressed a sloppy wet kiss to your clit and then started to move back. Eyes snapping open, you set your hand on top of his head over the sheets, holding him in place as you requested quietly, “Can you put your fingers in me too?”

“Sure.” he chuckled faintly, words muffled by the sheets and duvet. 

You felt him glide his fingers across your slick pussy and then he was sinking two inside you slowly, right down to the knuckle. His tongue followed again and he lapped at your clit while his fingers pushed strongly inside you all the way and back out in slow thrusts. 

“Yeah,” you breathed, keeping your hand on the back of his head, “Faster.”

He followed your demand with fingers and tongue, ravishing you a little faster until his jaw was starting to ache and his hand was cramping up from those quick thrusts. Andrew hummed flatly against you and slowed himself down after a few seconds and before he could stop completely, you were squirming slightly underneath him. 

“Can you only go, like, halfway with your fingers?” you requested quietly. 

There was a pause and then movement as he shuffled his way out of the sheets to let them fall to the end of the bed, exposing your naked body to the air conditioned bedroom. He caressed your hip gently with a quiet, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” you replied almost too fast, “Why?” 

“It’s just…you’ve never had to tell me what to do before. I always usually make you cum.”

“I know, I know.” you assured him quickly, wracking your brain for an excuse, “Was just wanting to try new things.”

Andrew smiled faintly at you and nodded, “Okay.”

You returned his soft smile and he leaned down to kiss your lips, once, twice, and a third time before he was sitting back on his knees and shuffling out of his underwear. You tried to hide your disappointment that he wasn’t going to go down on you some more behind a tightlipped smile as he met your gaze and pulled the sheets up around you both again. Habitually, your legs went around his thighs as he situated himself on top of you and his lips locked with yours again in slow sensual kisses, tangling together as husband and wife in your shared bed like how it was supposed to be. 

“Ready?” he asked softly. 

“Mhm.” you slid your hands up his back and scratched your fingers across his shoulder blades lightly as he got himself situated. 

The head of his cock nudged against your dripping pussy and your muscles fluttered at the sensation, naturally waiting for him to finally push inside you. And, when he did, his eyes stayed focused on yours without breaking away for even a second, watching your expression as he filled you completely. Your hands rested on his back as you stared right back at his face, taking in his dark and handsome features that you loved so dearly, and yet part of you was already missing George’s blue eyed gaze. 

The flicker of a guilty wince across your expression was covered with ease by the first thrust from your husband as he started to make love to you properly. He kissed your lips sweetly, sharing single little fleeting kisses and soft breaths as you tangled under the sheets together. His thrusts were slow and deep and so incredibly loving, something that had been so comforting over the recent few years together. Something you didn’t realize mattered much. Not until George came over that afternoon and shook your very knowledge of reality and pleasure to its core.

Andrew broke away from your kiss to tuck his face into your neck and your arms wrapped entirely around his back to hold him on top of you, whimpering softly against his shoulder as he took you over like that. Your eyes scrunched shut and you desperately tried to stay in the moment, clinging onto your husband’s beautiful caramel skin and the scent of his office that lingered on him; copy ink and paper. His warm breaths fell against your neck in gentle pants in time with his precise thrusts, your bed squeaking faintly beneath you. 

But your mind was straying again, drifting to the house next door and the man who had his way with you that afternoon; the one who somehow made you see stars for the first time in years. That used to be you and Andrew or so you recalled as the memories faded with time, but now it was all so fresh with George and you were drunk on the newfound adrenaline of it all. You tried to hush your mind from begging you to do it again and again and again with the man who had his own wife and his own family and who wasn’t legally bound to you in any way. 

Just because you couldn’t have him didn’t mean you couldn’t think of him. With your eyes closed tightly and your husband’s face still tucked warmly in your neck as he made love to you gently into your bed, you shamelessly imagined him to be George instead. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip and your mind swirled with memories from that afternoon and the dirty words that your neighbour spoke to you. You imagined him saying such things to you now, holding you down on your bed, fucking you like you never knew you needed. 

As you clung onto your husband, your lips formed the words without thought, mouthing them silently to the ceiling, “Yes, sir.”

George took up your mind until your thoughts were so vivid that you swore you could smell him right there with you, taking the place of your husband. Even Andrew’s soft sounds were that of George and you were buzzing off the fresh memory that burned within you, completely encapsulated by the man that wasn’t yours. You could do nothing else but picture him on top of you instead, mouthing his name to your bedroom ceiling over and over as if speaking to him in your mind. 

“That’s it.”

The breathy faint voice that ghosted across your ear tore you from the strength of your imagination but the power that George still held over you kept you going just that little bit longer. 

“Holy shit, you’re gonna cum already?” Andrew chuckled against your cheek, “I can fucking feel it.” 

“Shh.” you pulled his face back into your neck, playing it off effortlessly that you were too close for casual conversation. That wasn’t entirely a lie because the words that George spoke to you in your memory were certainly bringing you closer by the second, urging your muscles to tighten up around your husband’s dick. 

Andrew kept his pace going even as your nails pressed into the muscles of his back and your body fell into pleasure beneath his. Your orgasm certainly wasn’t as strong as the two you had that afternoon but it was still real and it still felt good, regardless of the slight disappointment that filled your guilty conscience. 

“Yes.” you squeaked out, tangling your hand in the back of his hair to grip tightly to his soft brunette roots, “Fuck-”

“Oh my God.” Andrew groaned from over top of you, shifting away from you a little to get a better angle with his hands pressed onto the pillow on either side of your head.

Panting softly underneath him, your hands slid down to his biceps and you held onto him as he thrusted into you a little faster, those big brown eyes staring right into your distracted gaze. He was still as beautiful as ever to you and the expression of pleasure that spread across his face was just as breathtaking as the first night you shared together six years earlier. Only seconds later, he was pulling out of you and coming right across your abdomen with the added help of his own hand, offering quiet moans to your bedroom walls as he finished himself off. You watched him closely, tearing your eyes away from his face to glance down between you under the sheets to get a glimpse at the mess he made across your flushed skin. 

“Shit.” he huffed and carefully shifted off of you. 

You took the sheets from him to hold them up and out of the way as he rolled over to grab a few tissues from the bedside table. He helped to clean you up like the gentleman he was and then you let the blankets fall gracefully over the both of you as he leaned in for a few breathless kisses. 

“How was that?” he asked teasingly. 

You bit back your smile, “Good.”

“Good?” he laughed lightly, feigning offence, “Just good, huh?”

“You know what I mean.” you swatted his chest playfully. 

Andrew tossed the sheets back and swung his legs off the bed, “I’m gonna throw this out. Did you want water or anything?”

“I’m okay.” 

He leaned back down towards you for one more kiss, “Okay. Be right back.”

You tucked the sheets up to your chin as you watched him stand up and shuffle his underwear back on before he was patting across the carpeted floor to the ensuite bathroom. When he was out of view, your eyes drifted to the flowers still resting on the dresser across the room and you nibbled at your bottom lip to try and keep the guilt at bay. Then, you looked straight up at the ceiling instead, trying to settle the rapid beating of your heart over the realization that you had to think of another man apart from your husband to get off. That had never happened before. 

Andrew’s gentle humming came from the bathroom as he brushed his teeth and finished getting ready for bed and you tried to let the familiarity of his voice soothe you but it didn’t do much. Instead, you just kept wondering what George sounded like when he sang or what music he played when he baked or if he was thinking of you as much as you were thinking of him. How ridiculous. How absolutely teenage of you. 

“Alright,” Andrew emerged from the bathroom and joined you in bed once more, “all set.”

You reached over to your bedside table to turn off your lamp before laying beside him again, habitually wrapping yourself up under his arm. He kissed your head and sighed as he settled, holding you close under your shared sheets. 

“I love you.” he said through the dark. 

You rested your cheek against his shoulder, “I love you too.”

Andrew was drifting quickly after a long day but you were still wide awake, staring blankly across the room to the front windows and their shut curtains. You aimlessly trailed your fingertips over your husband’s chest and the faint dusting of chest hair that grew down between his pecs, wondering to yourself that if Andrew still felt like home to you, why did your mind crave to be elsewhere. Mostly, you tried not to think of George.

You really tried. 

PART TWO

My Very Extensive Tag List™:

@wetforwolff

[catwrites9]

Ain’t no love in Oklahoma

Kate Martin x reader SMUT

Twisters x Kate Martin crossover

Warnings: smut, praise, fingering(k!receiving), oral(k! receiving), strap on, riding(r! receiving), cussing???,injury, almost death??, use of y/n, cringy cowboy talk, not proof read, blood?, I think that’s it

W/N: I took so long to finish this I’m sorry but I’ve just been busy with a trip and doing preseason for basketball, which I haven’t talked about but I try and write all the time but with school and playing basketball at a d1 school which yes I’m a d1 athlete but I will never say what school I’m at but who knows you might watch my school???????

Masterlist

—————————————————————————

It’s the time you dreaded the most. Tornado season. Both your mom and dad are tornado wranglers so that means they made you be one. The worst part is you have to move in with a family you don’t know just to chase a few tornados. The travel there wasn’t that bad, it was just a whole car ride of side country roads just to get to an old farm real estate. Once you got there you were treated by a couple and an older boy and girl. They all introduced themself to you guys but something felt off. You felt like you were being watched. You look to the left and see another woman around your age, blond, and the most beautiful woman you’ve seen. You smile at her and she just ignores you and goes back to digging a hole. Her mom sees where you're looking and introduces Kate. She just looks up and smiles at your mom and dad. She looks at you for a bit and clenches her jaw. She goes back to work and you just furrow your brows in confusion. Both family’s head in but Kate’s mom takes you to the side.

“Normally Kate doesn't like any new people but it seems she took some type of liking to you. Won't you be a doll and just try being friends with her, I feel like she only stays on the property and talks to us. I’m a bit worried” Her mom is nice to you, do you decide to try and befriend her.

Kate is outside sharpening a tool so you decide to go talk to her, maybe get to know her.

“Hey Kate I’m y/n” you hold out you hand and she doesn't even look at you. “So I heard that your like a you stay at home and just tend to your sheep” still no comment “anyways your mom was just telling me about how she wants us to be friends because you never leave the property anymore and have no friends” no comment but she looked annoyed at your comment “so I just wanted to get to know you I mean your family knows mine” no comment “ I feel like I would feel like so lonely if I was only on my property.” She doesn't care about what your saying

“I mean Don’t you want to find love or something” you were just trying to get some reaction out of her, you don’t know why but you just want her attention.

“Ain’t no love in Oklahoma” she finally talks, she’s a has a bit of a southern acent.

“Really, I thought a fine girl like you would have already been married to a cowboy” maybe confidence will make her break?

“I’m not into cowboys” she never made eye contact when you talked to her, you hate it. You grab your heart and faked being offended. “Their all just cocky, their all the same and they always wear that stupid hat everywhere”

“So you're telling me I’m cocky and unoriginal. And what did my hat do”

“Yes your cocky but your not a cow Boy” she enfisseced the last part.

“What are you trying to say darling” she stops what she’s doing, stands up and gets chest to chest with you.

“Don’t darling me, did they not teach you anything in cowboy school huh?…..” she pauses, her presence in front of you gets rid of your confidence. But you regain it. Her mocking tone annoys you. But why does it feel good to have her look at you for once during the conversation.

“They taught me a whole lot more than you, why don't you just spit it out and stop dancing around it” she looks at you annoyed.

“I like cowgirls you bimbo” her crossed arms flexed to emphasize her point.

“Oh… you could have just said that instead of dancing around it like a chicken with its head cut off”

“The chicken would be still and not dancing” her voice now very monotone.

“Did they not teach you sarcasm in southern school huh?” she just grunts at you and goes back to sharpening her tool. You leave her be and just go back to your parents. This is going to be a long month.

No matter what you did she never seemed to like you, but the times you didn’t look at her she was always watching you. She watched for you to mess up just so she could show she’s better. It’s became a rivalry you didn’t want. But she was always near you, it almost felt like she wanted your attention as much as she wanted yours. That’s why she is there wrangling tornados with you and your parents. She’d always make fun of you for random things like your lasso you kept with you during a chase just in case but she never saw why, she questioned everything and loved to push your buttons. Due to her not being experienced with this scene you felt a sense of protectiveness that made you always put her over you. But that’s where you are now in the middle of a f 3 tornado heading right for you.

You guys had to go one by one to run from structure to structure. Your parents went first and then Kate made you go. The ground was wet making it easy to fall, the rain blinding you from seeing in front of you. This almost felt like being stuck in the middle of a hurricane. Once you got to your parents you hugged them and waited for Kate. But that never came. You all yelled at her to come over but she was scared. She froze. Her structure would not hold together once the tornado hit. She needed to move now with how fast the tornado was going. She wasn’t going to move and it hit you that you needed to help her. You can’t just let her stay frozen. The fear of death hits you but you still know what to do. The whistling became almost deafening. You took off running, you heard your parents scream in terror but you couldn’t let that stop you. You somehow didn’t slip and made it to her. She was crying and scared. She was shaking and holding herself in her arms.

“Kate we have to go”

“No I can’t y/n I can’t”

“Yes you can and you will”

“No no I can’t save yourself I’m a liability please”

“I’m not leaving you behind Kate” you grab her and start pulling her to the next building.

“I’m so sorry, I’m just so sorry for everything I’ve acted like an ass to you just for you to save me”

“It’s ok Kate really” you felt the wind, it wasn’t good. All the gear on you weighed you down a bit. You weren’t gonna make it. You could feel yourself being pulled.

“Kate no matter what happens you run and get to my parents and don’t look back, ok Kate”

“What do you mean, y/n what’s happening” she stops in her tacks, you can’t have this you so close you keep pulling her.

“ On the count of 3 you’ll run and don’t look back, I’ll be right behind you” your voice cracks at the end. Kate sees your face.

“Your not gonna behind me are you”

“Please Kate do it now, run, NOW.” She runs as fast as she can without tripping.

The wind takes you a bit, you fall to the floor and get taken by the muddy slope. You landed in a ditch and found the nearest sewer drain. You found one and connected yourself to the pole outside with your lasso. The whole time in the tornado blurred and blacked out. You woke up to Kate right next to you pulling a metal sheet off of you. Your head pounded as you tried to recall what happened. Your body hurt and your face stinged. You had random cuts on you but the main was one on your face that stinged from Kate’s touch. You finch back. Her eyes filled with guilt. You got checked up by a medic and was able to go home the same day. You escaped with just some cuts and bruises. When you got home the house felt weird. The house felt like weary and sorrow. You hat rested on a table with a candle and a picture of you. They all thought you were gone. Kate became distant that whole day. Your parents and her family left to go to dinner but you didn’t feel like going out. You just stayed in your room replaying what happened. You kept wanting to think about what happened to you but all you could think of is the what ifs about Kate. You headed to her room, opened the door, and she wasn’t there. You walked in trying to find her.

“Why did you do it” you jump at her voice behind you.

“Why wouldn’t I”

“Because you could have died. Y/n come on you had us all greivinv you thinking you died”

“So it’s my fault I saved you”

“I’m not, I just, why would you risk your life for someone that’s done nothing but be a pain in your ass”

“Because I could Kate”

“That’s not a reason and I think we both know that’s not the reason”

“I JUST SAVED YOU ALRIGHT ITS THE ONLY THING I COULD THINK OF, THAT WHOLE TIME I WAS JUST WORRIED ABOUT YOU”

“WHY”

“BECAUSE KATE YOU'RE… new to this you can’t hold yourself like I did” your secrets can’t come out she can’t find out that you care about her so much because of you liking her.

“Why did your confidence break, what are you hiding?” She’s catching on.

“Nothing Kate I’m just scared for you”

“Why are you scared for me” her confusion and guilt mixed on her face.

“I just want to protect you”

“BUT WHY Y/N”

“BECAUSE KATE I LIKE YOU, I LIKE YOU SO MUCH I CAN'T SEE A WORLD WHERE I COULD EVER SEE YOU GETTING HURT JUST BECAUSE YOU GOT DRAGGED INTO SOMETHING IM DOING. AND NO MATTER HOW RUDE YOU WERE TO ME I ONLY WANTED YOUR ATTENTION, I just want you, so bad Kate” she was wide eyed and stuck in thought.

Your mind raced as you knew you ruined everything. In a split second she crashed her mouth onto yours and kissed you. The kiss became bore and more heated. She took your hat and started wearing it. You lead her to the bed until the back of her knees hit the surface. She sat down and pulled you on her lap. Her hands explored you, searching for your weak spots. She swipes her tongue on your bottom lip as you grant her access. Both your tongues fight for dominance and explore each other's mouths. She tugs at your shirt and you break apart to quickly take it off and then go back to kissing. Your body instinctively starts grinding in her lap. Kate chuckles a bit. She rests her arms on your waist as she helps you.

She moves back to catch her breath“You know what they say save a horse ride a cowboy” her smug smirk taunting you. Tilting your hat she’s wearing at you.

“Your not a cowboy” once you say that something switches in her. She’s faking being a cowboy the one thing she hates…. But the thought of ridding her takes over your brain.

“I know I’m not but you wouldn’t care either way because all you want to do is ride my cock don’t you. If you climb the saddle” she points down at her lap”be ready to ride. So you’re gonna take my cock aren't you” you nod at her words feeling your arousal grow.

“Are you ready? Are you ready to ride me like a good girl?”She's close to your face, ready to pounce.

“Yes Kate please”

She moves you off her and looks under her bed. She finds it and unboxes it. She tries to take off her clothes but you stop her. “Wait, please let me” you slowly take off her top half and tease her. You kiss down her neck to the waistline of her pants. You get on your knees and take off her pants. You begin to tease her by kissing and grabbing her thighs. You take off her underwear and continue, slowly making your way up. You begin to blow on her clit. Her head throws back in pleasure. Her soft moans of your name stuck forever in your head. You kiss her clit. She moans and grabs your head. You stand up, leaving her shocked.

“You're gonna have to work for it Kate” she’s annoyed, and aroused, but she knows you're gonna pay.

She puts it on and pushes you back onto the bed. She proceeds to leave trails of hot open mouthed kisses on your neck. You tilt your head to the side to give her more access. She finds your sensitive spot and bites down. Leaving you whining. You go to cover your mouth.

“Don’t you fucking dare cover your mouth, I wanna hear all your noises baby” she goes back to licking and sucking the spot. Everytime she bites she gets a whimper from you. She even starts to groan a bit at your noises. She trails down leaving marks everywhere she kisses

She leads her hand down to your cunt. She brings one of her fingers to drag across it, she collects some of your wetness and puts her finger in her mouth. She moans at the taste.

“Fuck baby, so wet for me, I want you to ride me is that alright.” She sits right next to you as you straddle her lap. She helps you with lining up the strap with your hole. Slowly pushing yourself down. Stopping from time to time to let you adjust. You slowly grind your hips, hands resting on Kate’s shoulders, while both of you are moaning. Her hand on your hips helping you ride her. Her strap hitting perfectly on your g spot.

“It’s just like riding a horse ain’t it baby, aren't you so good at that, you're so good at this” your break eye contact from her praise. She grabs your face and makes you look at her the whole time. “Such a good girl” she is now focused on your neck and collarbone, leaving more marks. She periodically thrusts her hips up leaving you moaning her name.

“You sound so pretty moaning in my ear, fuck, I wanna hear you scream my name baby. Don’t hold back” she brings her hand down to your clit.

“Oh yeah you like that’s, like it when I fill you up so good.” The knot in your stomach forming and threatening to snap.

“Am I making you feel good y/n” you nodded “words”

“YES KATE”

“Well then look at me and tell me how good I'm making you feel and beg for more” she stilled your hips making you whine. “You can take it baby, can’t you”

“Please Kate please”

“Beg for it”

“Please Kate fuck me I need you to fuck me”

She leans into your ear “How bad”

“So fucking bad I need you, I’ll do anything”

“Good girl” she proceeds to pound into you at a harsh pace. Your hands are gripping her back leaving red streaks. One hand on your clit and the other on your hip massaging it. She catches you in the middle of moaning to make out with you.

The room filled with moans, groans, and the noise of her cock pounding inside you. The knot in your stomach is about to burst. She pulls back and watches your face. You both hold eye contact and watch each other's faces contort in pleasure.

“Cum with me baby” she put her head into your neck as the knot snaps. You both moan eachothers names. She slowly loses speed in her hips as both of you come down from your high. Your hands are scratching her shoulder as she’s sucking more marks on yours. Both of you panting as her hips finally still. You get off her lap and stand in between her legs, you push her shoulders down so that she’s laying down. Her legs spread more for you. You take the strap off of her and get on your knees.

Her pussy soaking from her prior orgasim. You lick a strip of cunt making her wither underneath you as you push your face away after. Her hand tries pushing you closer.

“Ride my face Kate” she gets up fast and gets into position. One of her hands rests on your head and the other rests on the wall in front of her. Your hat is still on her head. She grinds on your face as your hands rests on her thighs keeding at them. Your lips suck at her clit. Her orgasim coming fast beacuse of her prior one. You move your dominant hand down and stick two fingers into her.

“Y/N OH FUCK YES” your finger find her g spot immediately and curl to hit it with every thrust. Her hips lose their rhythm as she searches for her release.

“Cum for me pretty girl” her face contorted in pleasure. Her head rests on the wall as she rides out her high. Her eyes blown out in bliss, unable to see her blue eyes anymore.

She gets off your face and lays back on her pillows. Your hat finally slides off as you go up to cuddle her.

“What are we gonna tell them about all the marks” she says as her hands trace all of them on your neck.

“That’s a problem tomorrow, for now we should probably shower” you get up and help her up.

The next day you both hid it from your parents and kept it as your little secret. Maybe it wasn’t a bad idea to come to Oklahoma for the tornado season. You both clearly found love in Oklahoma that you never expected. But just maybe this won’t be the last time your here with Kate.

—————————————————————————

W/N: I feel like the riding face part was not that good anyways it’s 1 am I have to practice to wish me luck igs.

[fictionadventurer]

For all the talk about bad Christian fiction, I've seen several different ways that Christianity can be well-integrated into the story.

The story is about something unrelated to Christianity, but the characters are Christian and their faith affects their outlook and daily life. I recently stumbled across Wormwood Abbey by Christina Baehr, which is a light, fairly forgettable cozy fantasy that happens to do this really well. The story is about a woman who learns that dragons exist around her family's estate, but as the daughter of a rector, she often mentions prayer, sings religious songs, or thinks of Bible verses that relate to things she experiences. The Christianity feels organic to the character, and thus enhances the story rather than distracting from it.

The world is a Christian world where Christian beliefs are shown to be the correct framework through which to view the world. This happens in good Christian fantasy, like Lewis and Tolkien, but there are plenty of real-world stories where the themes line up with Christian truths, and this can make a story Christian whether or not religion is explicitly practiced by characters within the story.

The characters wrestle with how to apply their faith in their daily lives. Regina Doman's Fairy Tale Novels often feature this, as the characters struggle to deal with plot problems while living out their faith. Amy Lynn Green's work often features this as well--characters hold certain values (like, for instance, a Quaker pacifist) and have to figure out how they apply or don't apply to specific situations, especially when they conflict with other values, or they have to figure out how to live out their values (such as forgiveness) in moments where it seems impossible or even ill-advised. Charlotte Yonge's best works (specifically, what I've read of The Three Brides) do this as well--instead of preaching the one right answer, you have characters trying to figure out what the best answer is as they figure out what's right or wrong in this specific situation.

Characters face the revelation that there's a spiritual world that exists beyond our ordinary world, which can cause terror, but also provide comfort and hope. Elizabeth Goudge's novels often exist in this space, with very internal stories of characters coming to embrace the truths that come with living in a spiritual world. To a lesser extent, I'd say Amanda Dykes' work often fits here, with characters ultimately find comfort and hope from philosophies that line up with Christian truth. In less-cozy works, there's also the possibility of stories where an entirely secular person encounters God and has to figure out what that means for their life.

So our options are Christianity as character, Christianity as setting, Christianity as theme, or Christianity as plot. The ways this is integrated most seamlessly is when Christianity (or the ways they struggle with it) is a vital part of the character, so the plot that arises from it lines up with a Christian worldview. It also works well for the characters to just exist within a world where Christian truths are the way the world works. It doesn't even necessarily require the characters to be explicitly religious. Truth is something that everyone is searching for, and stories that honestly showcase truth or the search for it are going to resonate with a wide audience, even if they aren't Christian themselves.

[slickchickchocolatier]

THE BUTLER

Warnings: Unprotected smut, slight voyeurism, secret smut, secret love, heart break, Y/N is a rich girl, not at all spoiled, slight Cinderella vibes, stepmom and sisters, they don't really like y/n, and death. MDNI content is for 18+ only.

Something for you guys as I finish the last chapter of DT. I started this a while ago but finally decided to finish it, as you can see, I was inspired by the release of "Criminal Love" so enjoy. I enjoyed this piece quite a bit. Part of this is proofread, so sorry if the ending of it seems a little sloppy.

“Oh! She’s here sir!”

The house nanny calls out, informing your father of your expectant arrival. Your mother and stepfather told you that this was a great opportunity to travel overseas, leave home, and expand your horizons as a prospective student. And lucky for you, your father’s work as the country’s Ambassador afforded you said opportunity, and you wish you could be just as excited about it as everyone else. Truth of the matter was, it devastated you to leave. 

Of course, growing up in a proper household, one with many manners and strict etiquettes in place, only meant that naturally, you were groomed to put on a mask to conceal your true emotions, among other things. 

You loved your family, and respected your father dearly, even when only seeing him every summer. Yet there was something back at home that caused this change of pace; something that you knew you had to get away from, even at the cost of your goals and happiness. 

It was hard for anyone to understand, since you and your former companion had only known each other for a year. To others, it appeared only as a fling, a swift love that left as fast as it came, but for you, it was a whole other matter. Unbeknownst to everyone around you, promises of a tight future we’re made, all initiated by him. He told you he loved you, cherished you, and that you both would be together forever. So was it a surprise to you, or him, that you fell into the abyss of depression and had clammed up after he exposed how he didn’t think much of your relationship;  that it was just something to look back on, as “experience” for real love. 

“Real love?….”

How could he use those words put together? How dare he? After all the times that you gave up to be with him; the sacrifices you made, and not to mention, the countless hours you made up to maintain your grades while still being there for him whenever he needed you. Such as the time when he lost a beloved family member, and you were the only one there to console him. One thing led to another and in a blink of an eye, you were no longer a virgin. You never minded, after all, he did tell you that he saw a future with you as his wife, and you responded each time by giving him your flesh and sweat….you did all of that, yet he didn’t see it as real love. 

Your mother and stepfather could never know the degree of your breakdown. How could they? They probably suspected it, but never confirmed that you lost your virginity to the man. After he told you that he no longer wanted you, he moved on to another girl, one that you used to call ‘friend’. How despicable. Guess that was college life for you, though you would have never braced for something so heartbreaking to happen, even at a prestigious university. 

After all that, you stopped talking and dropped all of your classes. You fell lower than ever before, and perhaps your mothers words, “It's not a big deal, he’s not worth it. You’ve only known him for a year, forget about him.” Was said, only to try and bring you back from the ground you found yourself graveling on. You know your mother better than anyone else, she loved you more than the world and would do, and say, anything to bring you back to a sound mental state of mind. She always did before, only this time….it didn’t work. 

That’s when the idea of sending you to live at your fathers estate came to discussion. Your father was a very noble man, not in a literal sense of course; the man had built himself up from nothing, growing up from such a poor family. Through his elaborate military career and his continued service in politics, he earned his lavish lifestyle. The driver opens the door and gives you a hand, helping you out of the backseat as you are immediately greeted by the house nanny, and your father following suit. 

“Papa!” 

“There’s my girl! Come here, it’s been too long since I last saw you. Look at you, just as pretty as always.” 

Holding you in a warm embrace, you felt free from the pain of heartbreak as you hugged your father; you missed him so much and it was always good to see him. Aside from being with him, his estate was something that you always cherished. He had acres of land, manicured with a few guest homes on the property. There were large floral gardens and orchards that decorated the entire estate with the main house stationed at the center of the acreage. Maybe coming to live here for a while wasn’t such a bad idea after all. And who knows, if you had ever found a reason to go back, you could always get up and go ... .just as much as you could settle down and stay, so long as you had found meaning behind that decision. 

During your embrace, you caught the eye of the trio that made their way over, though they seemed less excited in greeting you. 

“Well, you could have called when you were nearby. We were just about to have lunch. It would have been embarrassing to begin eating and to take a pause because of your arrival.” 

When it came to your father, mother, and stepfather, they were all a delight and you couldn’t have asked for better parents. However, when it came to your stepmother, that was an entirely different story. Of course, your fathers marriage to her wouldn’t be complete without your two stepsisters…

“Oh my gosh! Look at her hair! See mom! I want my extensions to be as long as her hair, the same length.”

“Y/n, where did you get your outfit? It’s so pretty, I want one just like it but in pink. Don’t I look good in pink?” 

Your father takes a moment to jest, yet you had a feeling by the tone he took with your stepmom and sisters, that he was more on the serious side at hinting on their lack of manners. The ‘joke’ was him remaining tactful, as always. 

“Well, usually it’s customary to say ‘hello’ and ‘how are you?’ whenever you’re greeting family, but I guess talking about lunch, hair, and outfits is just as welcoming.”

Looking up at your father, he gives you a small wink before placing a kiss on your head, much to the obvious dismay of your stepmom. “I was only trying to point out that it would have been more considerate of her to call, that’s all. But, I guess you do have a point.” 

Your stepmom quickly took the hint, and rendered obedience in her own manner, before ushering the girls to come up and greet you properly. Pushing boundaries with your father is never a smart idea, for anyone. The man was rich, had close connections with the government, and didn’t feel the ‘need’ to have a wife as much as he merely enjoyed having one for companionship. Your stepmom knew that, just needed a reminder from time to time that he would drop her quickly, along with your stepsisters. You’re not entirely sure what had gone wrong, you never did anything to your stepmom nor did you ever go out of your way to offend her. Yet somehow, she acted somewhat distasteful to you. As for your stepsiblings, it wasn’t quite their fault. They were spoiled, had everything beyond the world given to them, and only acted out based on the initiative of their mother. Nevertheless, you were always pleasant and did your best to make them feel welcomed. You even gave up your room, the largest suite of the household, all to accommodate their ‘needs’ shortly after your father married and brought them in. Since you previously had only come for long visits in the summer during your college breaks, it wasn’t a huge deal to give up your room, or your favorite guesthouse, which was once your getaway for whenever you wanted to paint and do pottery. What was once your soaring heaven had now become a playhouse for the girls…to depreciate and throw their large parties for whenever they wanted to have their friends over. Guess that is what it means to be the elder and the matured one out of the brunch. 

“Come on sweetheart, let’s get you fed. I imagine you’re tired and hungry from that long flight, did you have any trouble finding Bitterman?” 

“No Sir, I found her with no trouble. It’s quite easy to find a girl as pretty as her.” Bitterman, your fathers driver, chimes in, earning a chuckle from the latter. “Thank you my friend, be sure to get yourself fed as well, Louis has the kitchen smelling delightful.” 

Your father was always admired and loved by the staff, and it wasn’t hard to see why. He wasn’t just wise, rational, and a thoughtful type, he was also benevolent and selfless. Indeed, he was just as good of a master as he was a father and husband. 

“Oh, Bitterman, no need to get the bags, I’ll get them.” Your father exclaims as he goes to pick up one of your luggage. “Oh um….I can get that Papa, it’s actually kind of heavy—“ 

You were cut off when a shadowed figure appeared out of nowhere and grabbed hold of the leather strap, just before your father completed his reach for it. “I got it sir, please allow me.” 

The tall figure was dressed in a black suit with a fitted designer trench coat to match, paired with fine leather gloves; the right one being fingerless. His hair was swiftly combed to the side, with a few pieces dangling above his eye and brow, yet it only enhanced his suave appeal. There was a slight bit of royal purple hue to his strands, yet it was tasteful and neat. He effortlessly picks up the luggage and swings it over a shoulder, and picks up another large carry-on before making his way inside the house. “The Nénuphar suite, correct?” 

“Yes, thank you Ethan.” 

Confused, you looked at your father as he took note that you hadn’t been properly introduced to his newly acquired staff member. “Oh! Ethan, this is y/n.” Turning back to you, your father completed the introduction as he took your hand and guided you closer to the mysterious man in black. “Y/n, this is Ethan. I’ve told him all about your arrival and if you need anything in my absence, come to him. He is the head of my household staff and is my personal butler, second to no one, except myself.” 

“B-butler?” You were caught off guard at the label, the man did not carry the appearance of a butler. That was when your father somewhat clarified. “Well, butler in an abstruse sense. All you need to know is that he is my right hand man. So if you ever need anything, come to me or Ethan.” 

‘Abstruse? What is that supposed to mean—‘

“It’s nice to meet you y/n.” 

“Oh…it's nice to meet you too. Thank you...for taking my bags, I can get the rest of them.”

“No need, I’ll have it taken care of.” Turning his head to the side, he raises a hand and snaps his fingers. Upon the crisp sound echoing among the grand entrance of the estate, a series of maids and butlers come in and grab the remaining of your belongings. You raised a brow before peaking a questionable gaze at your father, in which he replied with…

“I told you, he is my right hand man.” 

…………………………..

The next morning, you awoke in your beautifully furnished room. After carrying out your hygiene routine and dressing yourself, you walk down the lengthy staircase to find the girls at the base, dressed primply with jewels and broaches decorating their hair and outfits. 

“I want to re-do my nails.”

“You just got yours done yesterday, it’s been three days since I got mine. I want to add more jewels.”

“I want more flowers.” 

“I wanted them with a sharper point.”

“I wanted them longer.”

Walking through the foyer, Ethan takes stride with his hands clasped behind his back, as if he was taking a walk of leisure. Breaching the girls, they immediately dropped their topic of nail decor and called out to the handsome butler. “Oh Ethan!” One of the girls calls out. “I just got this dress yesterday, what do you think? Do you like it? Doesn’t pink look good on me?” 

Ethan gave a faint, side smirk as he paused in his steps. His hands remained behind his stature as he stood comfortably, not responding. Your other sister butts in, trying to vye for the man’s attention as she shows off her manicure. Again, he remained silent, yet the girls seemed to be used to it. 

“Oh, trying to be silent like always?”

“That’s so hot.” 

“Come on, won’t you say anything about my outfit for once?”

“Or my nails?” 

Pouting their faces rather flirtatiously, the girls flutter their lashes as they bite their lip, only to get nothing out of the man. You continued walking down during the entire entourage and once you reached the base, Ethan’s eyes sparked up. He glanced up and beyond their heads, watching as you made your way down. You pause as your sisters remained standing on the last step, seemingly oblivious to what the man was staring at. 

“Ah, young lady, you’re just in time. Your dad wanted to see you first thing this morning.” 

Extending his hand and shooting it between your sisters, the girls part ways as they watch you take Ethan’s hand as he guides you down the last step of the staircase. “I’ll take you to his study.” You felt his fingers subtly pinch your hand as he firmly established his grip. As he started to take you away, he suddenly paused with you remaining closely behind. His masculine scent was befitting with the dashing designer suit he had on; he looked more like a businessman than a butler, perhaps that was what your father meant from yesterday's conversation. Turning his head halfway, he glanced over to the girls and spoke in a low tone, all with a dashing smirk decorating his side profile. 

“Oh…about your outfit and nails….it is not in my place or station to remark on such matters. Please consult your designers and seamstresses if you ever feel confused.” With a slight tug, he pulls your hand and leads you away while the girls stood confused with hurt feelings. There hadn’t been many interactions between Ethan and the girls, but from what you heard by the house nanny, the few times he did exchange words with the two, it was far from what they ever expected or trying to achieve. Aside from his laconic smirks, the man was stone cold towards the two. 

Reaching the double doors of your father’s private office, another butler stands by. “Please inform the master that his daughter is here to see him.” Ethan calmly states. The other butler nods before knocking on the glazed wooden doors, before peeking in upon hearing your father responding from inside. The elder butler steps aside and gives a slight bow towards Ethan as the latter bars the doors wide open, gently dragging you behind. 

“Sweetheart, did you sleep well?” Your father immediately speaks out, while Ethan takes you over to a tea table, surrounded by lounge seats. Pulling the seat back for you, he guides you over and pushes you in towards the table, where a lovely tea set and tiered tray filled with all sorts of snacks and finger sandwiches were nicely laid out as your father makes his way to join in. “I got all of your favorites.” Your father says proudly, shooting another wink over to you. 

Ethan finishes scooting you into the table, his hands gently caressing the back of the seat. Before pulling away, his hands gently graze over your arms and shoulders as he walks out with one hand in his pocket. The man certainly walked with a sense of authority and carried out a superior presence, more so than even your father, even though he was the master. 

“I am sorry for how your stepmom and sisters behaved yesterday, that shouldn’t have happened.” 

Your fathers words caught your attention, causing you to turn your head away from Ethan’s backside, making eye contact with your sympathetic parent. “I had words with them yesterday and will make sure that doesn’t happen again, they need to be more mindful especially since you’re going to be here for a while.” 

You shook your head and waved off his concern. “It’s fine, I’m not worried about it.” 

Your father smiles at your reassurance and chuckles. “Good.” Adjusting in his seat, he takes a cup of tea and begins to sip on it while carrying the conversation to a different direction. “Did you sleep well?”

You nodded as you took your own cup and delicately sipped from it. Your father kept adjusting in his seat, appearing to find it difficult to gain comfort within the chair, not that it wasn’t hard to see why. The chairs were beautiful and carried a regal vintage design, but were very much too stiff for someone like your father, who required more softness to accommodate his back. No doubt he had so many strains from all the years he served in the military. 

Just as you were about to ask him if he needed something for his chair, you hear the doors from behind open. Turning halfway in your own seat, you watched as Ethan entered with a silk and plush pillow in hand; he didn't say a word, instead, he walked directly over to your father and handed it over to him, obviously flaring his familiar knowledge of your father and his routines. 

“Oh thank you so much Ethan, you do know me too well.” your father chuckles out as Ethan smirks. “Sweetheart, you want a pillow for your chair?” Your father asks you while Ethan stands by his side. He crosses his arms and gives a slight tilt of his head, establishing a rather dominant and assertive stance, yet your father seemed to be quite used to and didn’t mind at all, in fact, he seemed to embrace that wholeheartedly. You shook your head and politely declined the offer, to which Ethan issued a slight nod before exiting the study, turning back once more to pull the doors shut. 

“I like Ethan, he’s super cool. Good guy too.” Your father spoke rather comfortably. You furrowed your brows confusingly, while nodding in agreement, sort of. “Is he…really your butler?” You asked as your father took a finger sandwich from the tier stand. 

“Mmhmm.” Your father issues his response as he bites into the sandwich, and chews it while sipping on his tea. Looking back up, he gives you another wink. You chuckle and take one of the finger snacks and enjoyed it, along with a conversation that took up the entire morning as you caught up with your father and told him about college, your mother, stepfather, and even the young man that broke your heart, though one day at your father’s estate seemed to have done a lot of healing, more than you expected. You didn’t know why, but that would unfold as the days continued to swing by. 

………………………

A couple of weeks had passed, and you didn’t see much of your sisters or stepmom, they weren’t really around at the house so much, instead, they liked their constant outings and partook in continuous shopping trips. You laughed and cringed internally as you watched the girls make their attempts in gaining Ethan’s affection, much less his attention. Half the time, the man would ignore their teasing and flirting words, but the times when he did entertain small talk, it was always a major shutdown, at least that’s what it looked like to you. But to the girls, it was something else. 

…….

‘Oh that’s just how he is, trust me, Ethan likes it when I talk to him.’

‘I think he likes talking with me more.’

‘Shut the fuck up! He likes me more, bitch!’

‘You’re the bitch! You fucking rude bitch, who the fuck do you think you are?’

…… 

Now you were by no means a saint, but for the most part, using vulgar language was something you considered to perform only when the situation called for it. An outburst of anger perhaps, or…when you had your heart broken. A flashback of when the man informed you that you were just ‘practice’ for his real and true love came to mind, and the image of you screaming out and lashing every cursing you could imagine in his direction. Yet the girls were using it so freely, over a man that didn’t seem to take interest in anything other than his duties. 

You politely excuse yourself from the room, allowing for the girls to bicker in peace while the seamstresses customized their designer gowns for the upcoming event. You gently shut the doors behind as you take your stroll outside, loving the sound of the doves that hummed their tune in a nearby Magnolia tree. You walked over to the massive gazebo, lavished with wisteria vines and overlooking the flat fields that extended past the lines of the property. A stone rail surrounding the gazebo stands at chest height, it was perfect for you to rest your forearms on as you leaned in and took in the beautiful sight of nature and tranquility. You watched as the staff members from afar tended to the private livestock, and harvested the fruits from your father’s orchard. In a peaceful state, you stare off with nothing in mind other than the happiness you witnessed as the staff members conducted their duties from afar, not at all realizing that you were watching them with a smile on your face. 

“Enjoying the view?” 

You turned your head and saw Ethan entering through the hanging vines of purple flowers from the Wisteria plant. “Oh–yeah…sorry, you caught me off guard.” Chuckling, you turn your attention back to the staff members. Ethan comes by your side, and as you had done, he leans against the stone rail while resting his forearms on the smoothed top surface. “Yeah, I seem to have a habit of doing that from time to time.” He calmly tells you, it almost seemed like it was his way of joking, yet you didn't really know whether to laugh or stay silent, so you gave a delicate chuckle instead. 

“How are you enjoying being back? It's been the previous summer since you’ve last visited, correct?” 

You nodded. “Yes, last summer was the last time I came over. At first, I’m not sure if I was thrilled about living here, not that I don't love my father, I do. I just…it was an abrupt decision and I didn’t really have a whole lot of say in the matter. But I’m glad I did…I miss my dad so much and I always did like this place.” 

You confide as Ethan stares off at the orchard, nodding gently at your words. “When did you start working for my dad?” 

Ethan lets out a light and airy chuckle of his own, dashing a side smirk as he continues to stare off at the fields. His hands were decorated with the leather gloves, with the right one being fingerless, as always. “Next week makes it six months.” 

“You like it here too?” 

“I do.” He pauses as he clasps his hands together before him. “Your dad is a good man.” 

“Yeah he is.” you chuckle out, flattered by the compliment. 

“Did you finish with the seamstresses?” he inquires. You turn to glance over to him with a faint, sweet smirk before looking back over to the distant orchard. “No, not yet. I figured I’d let my sisters do their thing and I’ll get my dress made after.” 

“Hm. So you’re just wanting to get away and enjoy solitude in the meantime then.” his voice was deep, calm, and soothing. There was a tone in him that brought the image of a placid lake and  gentle wind to mind. You could side with your father’s opinion on Ethan, he was a gentle and good man, and he was very fond of your father. 

“Yeah…I love to get away.” you responded back, lifting your nose into the air as you relished the soothing wind blowing against your skin and through your hair. Ethan tilts his head over. “You love to get away?”

“Yeah.” you chuckle out as you flinch a quick glance over his way. He smiles in return. 

“What do you like to get away from?” 

“Everything. Sometimes I just like to get away from people, and be only in the presence of nature and wind.” 

“What else?” Drawing your secrets out, he inquires for you to continue, and you confide fully without giving it a second thought. “I like to get away from responsibility and duties, and experience freedom, even if it's just for a second.” 

Remaining in his leaned state, Ethan adjusts, shifting his weight over to one arm as he turns to fully face your direction. “So, you’re an escape artist, in a sense.” He smirks out. 

“Yeah.” you chuckled, loving the feel of the wind picking up pace, roaring through your hair. 

“You’re a runner?” his voice peaking a sense of interest as he remarks your habit of ‘running away’ or getting away from the things that burden you.

“I am.” 

“You’re a runaway that likes to daydream?”

“I am.”

You both laugh in sync. He licks and bites his lip as he turns his face away and stares back off at the orchard. “Neat.” is all he says. Just as you were going to inquire about his unusual leather gloves, a dainty voice comes in from behind. “Y/N, we’re ready for you now.” You turn to see the personal seamstress. You smile and bid Ethan a goodbye before leaving him at the gazebo, not realizing that your smile flashed a charming sense that became permanently ingrained in the man’s memory. 

……………………….

The night of the event, you sat in your room for a while before deciding to finally make your appearance at the ballroom. Your father’s residence was massive, with four floor levels and a grand ballroom on the main floor; despite frequently visiting every summer, it took you a while to remember your way around. Now, you know the entire house like the back of your hand. 

You walk down the staircase, listening in on the laughter and small talk of the large crowd residing in the ballroom. The tail of your dress slinks down each step behind as you drag your hand against the smooth rail. You opted for a simple, plain and form fitting gown, with a high slit reaching your upper thigh; you’re not entirely too sure why you felt the need to look sexy, but why not? You only live once. 

Your sisters also opted for a sexy look, though their plunging necklines screamed of desperation rather than seduction, but you kept your opinions to yourself. Tonight was a night for celebration, not for bickering. 

You enter the grand room and earn a wave of stares. Your father stands at a distance and smiles proudly as he watches you make your way to one of the floor length windows. You gaze off at the moon, it looked so full and pretty tonight, shame you had to be inside. 

The lights dim down, and the band plays a gentle piece that initiates the guest to slow dance. That was your que, one that you always looked out for, so you could…

“Get away…” 

Snaking through the crowd, you make your way over to one of the outer doors that lead to a stone corridor that wraps around the entire base level of the mansion. You found solace in a secluded corner that overlooked the moon and stars, and was closed off to guests. The area wasn’t at all separated distinctively; it didn't have any walls, yet the four large pillars that surrounded it provided enough cover and seclusion for you to remain undisturbed, at least from the guests…

“Getting away again?” You turn to the side and notice Ethan entering the outdoor sitting area. 

“Yeah…just for a little bit.” 

He walks over and just as he did before, he stands by your side and admires the view of the full moon. His appearance wasn’t anything out of normal; he had on a fine black suit and tie, his leather gloves, and black shined shoes. His hair was styled just the same, and roared out a purple hue under the moonlight. In all actuality, he looked like one of the prestigious male guests inside the ballroom. Taking note of the privacy you both shared, you finally had the courage to ask him about his unusual choice of gloves. 

“I was wanting to ask you…”

“Hmm?”

“Your gloves…I dont think I’ve ever seen anyone wear gloves like yours, especially a butler.” 

“Oh, these? It’s just for comfort when I carry out some of my tasks.” He puts out nonchalantly, pretty much in the same manner as your father responded whenever you breached the topic of Ethan. 

“Oh, I see. A butler that just likes to wear leather gloves then.” you chuckled out, with his own laughter following closely behind. 

“Yeah, just a butler who likes to wear leather gloves.” he gently repeats as he switches his gaze from the moon, and looks over to you. Had you not been admiring the moon yourself, you would have taken notice of his unyielding stare. His eyes travel up and down, noting that this was the first time since your arrival to your father’s estate that he got to see the reality of your form. It was beautiful. 

Admiring the curves of your body, the length of your hair traveling down your backside, and the complexion of your glowing skin, the man found himself in awe….again. 

“So what made you want to get away this time? The people? The politics?”

“The moon.” you jest, slightly biting down on your lip, though you did so harmlessly. Yet Ethan couldn’t help but see the sultry beauty behind it. “I like the moon.” You claim. 

“Oh yeah? What else do you like?” he punctures your way, unbeknownst to you, he takes a step closer by your side. 

“I like animals. I like food, and the stars, and–”

“To run away…” he finishes, earning your sudden attention, allowing for you to see that he had migrated closer. 

“...Yes. I like to run away.” You calmly state, issuing a faint nervous chuckle upon noticing the feasting hunger that glared in his eye. It scared you…but you were liking it….and you wanted more of it. 

Reaching up, he takes a bit of your hair and glides his fingers through the length of it, allowing it to fall back on your spine. “Now tell me again…what else do you like, pretty girl.” 

Your breathing was less steady and deep, you suddenly found the tone of his voice so alluring, and the way he ran his fingers through your hair brought out a tight feeling from within your gut. Tingling and numbness chimes in your womanhood, it was a sensation you were familiar with, yet this time it was much stronger and vivid. You whisper out your response, taking the plunge and the chance to tell him, without being so direct…

“I like….you…” 

So much for not being too direct. At least you could say you tried to keep it somewhat discreet, which was much more than what you could say about your stepsisters. 

“Yeeeah…I  like you too…” his voice grew deeper and the shine in his eyes grew fierce as the hungry sense raged wildly, he looked different. He looked almost frightening, with how starving his eyes looked, yet the moment he gripped a handful of your hair while saying his piece, you could care less that he had the look of a hungry killer or a sadistic maniac, you were willing to feed him, and he sensed it. 

With the grip of your silk strands, he pulls you in, sucking in your breath as he fully envelops your lips in a deep kiss. Oh to be kissed by this man….it was something else. 

He explores your body and rubbed your hips, his fingers digging into your waist as a hand rides up your back and cradles the back of your scalp while taking in the sensation of your soft strands. The first moan you release against his tongue, he instantaneously rushes you against the pillar nearby, the force of his weight pushing you back until your shoulders meet the cold marble. Your rear and spine is plastered against the surface, yet he continues to push as his body melts into you. Without breaking the kiss, he keeps pushing, rubbing, and grinding, feeding off those sweet moans you let out. 

Finally, he allows for the both of you to take a breath as he abruptly breaks his lips away. Softly gripping your neck, the fine leather squeezing against your skin, he whispers before placing a gentle kiss on the tip of your nose, his eyes staring down at you and never breaking contact. “Be a good pretty thing…and try to stay quiet for me.” 

“Mm..mmhmm…” you moaned. 

“Yeah? Can you do that?”

“Y-yes….yes…”

“Yeah?” he lowers his head and buries his face into your neck, ravishing you with kisses as he smothers his saliva on your smooth skin. “Say you’ll be good for me.” 

“I-I’ll….I’ll be good…I’ll try to be good…mmm…Ethan.” 

“Heeseung.” 

You moaned out of both, pleasure and confusion as you winced your eyes shut upon feeling his kisses becoming rougher, his teeth nibbling on your neck. “H-Heeseung?” 

“Mmhmm…my real name.” He lets out just before he gives you a sharp bite. “Ah! Uggghhhhh!!’ you jerked up upon feeling the stinging sensation, with him easing it out as he licked over his teeth mark. “Shhhh….you gotta be good, remember?” he mocks as he gives you another bite.

“Ugh! Fffffffffuck….ugh!” you lengthen out your moans as you feel your body tremble. You really thought you could be quiet, that wasn’t hard to do with the last guy…but with Ethan…no, Heeseung….it was impossible. 

“I…I can’t…I can’t….please…please let me scream….oh God I wanna scream…” 

Looping his hand under your thigh, he lifts your weight as your back drags against the pillar, his lips sucking and kissing your breasts, which have now become exposed as he pulls the straps down from over your shoulders. With a mouthful of your plump areola, his free hand trails upwards and makes its way to gently cover your mouth. “Then scream baby.” 

His finger digs into the skin of your upper leg as he sustains your weight, while his free hand shoots up and gently holds you by your neck. It was all happening so fast, you hadn’t realized that he had already snaked his member out from his trousers until you felt the warm skin of his hard bulge probing your clothed entrance. He fingers your panties and scoots them off to the side, where the probing became more intense as you felt his hips bucking upward. He enjoyed teasing you with it, poking you a few more times as he wasn't focusing on entering, until you let out a whine that indicates your desire for him to do it to you. “Please…..” you moaned out. He kisses you as he finds himself, slipping through your tight walls. The both of you breathed out deeply and simultaneously upon feeling the initial penetration. He breaks the distance just slightly between your lips, so that he could take a better look at you while he continued to thrust all the way in, slowly. Sloooooowly. 

There was so much friction, roughness, and pressure, but it was all divine. He stared down at you, looking directly into your eyes with his feasting ones, while his grip on your neck tightened ever so slightly. His thumb reaches up, and grazes over our gasping lips as you pant out your moans. 

“Shh…” he waves his index over your lips, hushing you tenderly before the base of his groin meets with yours. You felt full, stuffed, and complete. He gives a slight nudge, imploring for you to respond that you were ready, and you were. With a slight nod, your eyes glistened as you gave him his que, to which he took, along with a kiss on the tip of your nose before he started to pull out. He didn’t have to say it, you could hear it within his growl that you were tight. Your walls squeezed every ounce of precum out of his throbbing length as he drew it out from the immense pressure your cavity created for him. Your squelching walls squeezing him, cradling him with a tight ring of muscle that made it almost seemed impossible for him to penetrate a second time. His breathing escalates yet each exhale becomes prolonged as he groans out the pleasure he felt upon breaching you. He exits out fully, his bulbous tip barely lays nestled in your cavity, with only the very tip that carried his exit laying inside, but it wasn’t for long. You clenched uncontrollably when you felt him plunge back in, harder, deeper, and faster. He bellows out in the depths of your gut while shoving his nose and mouth against your skin, still holding you by the thigh and neck. His hips thrust, starting off at a slow tempo, but taking no time to pick up the pace. In just a few seconds, you found yourself being lunged upwards in a jolting motion, all at high tempo. 

In and out, his thrusts were graceful yet demeaning as he goes in each time with the intent on tearing you apart, feeding you the immense thickness of his length and girth. The sound of the bustling guests exiting and mingling outside of the house could be heard, all unaware of what was happening behind the large pillar that Heeseung had you pinned against. You so badly wanted to scream, it all felt too good. The way he had you bouncing upwards at high momentum, your hair draping and decorating the marble backing as he continued to shove and lift you to accommodate each thrust. Biting your lip, you couldn’t take it anymore and yelp out in desperation, only for him to shoot his hand up and cover your mouth as he did before. 

“Shh….that’s my good girl.” Whispering against your forehead, his thrusts become harder and tighter as he reaches the areas of your body that you never knew could be obtained by a man. His length repeatedly hits a spot that causes you to yell out into his palm in a repeated motion as he goes in with so much ferocity. Your body goes limp, and you could barely contain yourself. Sensing that, he flings your thigh upwards and catches it, adjusting his grip as he scoots in closer while penetrating deep inside, leaving absolutely no distance between your heated bodies. 

“Good girl…good girl…take it….keep taking it…..fuck!” 

Feeling your walls pulsate did him in. You felt his cock throb with violent twitches as he buried it deep inside, releasing his warm, silky seed into you. The way you felt his length bend and flicker against your muscles, with the hot temperature of his children entering invigorated you, causing you to experience your orgasm. Your walls leak, vibrating out your ecstasy while he stays put for a few minutes; leaning back, he stares down at you with fulfillment in his eyes, they are no longer hungry. Satisfied under heavy lids, he reaches up and takes from his internal breast pocket of his suit, a silkened handkerchief. He pinches the corner, before whiplashing it to unfold as he slides out, inch by inch. Once you felt hollow, you felt the warm ooze of his labor dripping down your thigh. It was thick and white, mixed with the clarity of your body’s own solution produced from your orgasmic high. Keeping your thigh elevated, he takes a knee and  drags the smooth silk against your skin as he delicately wipes up the residue, leaving a trail of kisses against your inner thigh upon cleaning you up. Dragging his tongue upwards, he leaves your skin spotless before standing straight up, placing a tender kiss on your lips. No words were exchanged, just acts of affection and softness to conclude the lovemaking. Throughout the night, Heeseung danced and kept you company, flashing a smile your way every so often, much to the dismay of your sisters. 

“Why is Ethan dancing with her? I want to dance with him too!” 

“After me first.” 

Your stepmom subtly scolds the girls under her breath, pressuring them to focus on the more eligible bachelors that roamed the ballroom, no doubt heirs with big money behind their names. Yet the girls had a hard time shaking off the handsome Ethan from their minds, and only grew more frustrated as they watched him court you. Your father sips from his fine glass, and reassures your sisters as he issues a firm look over to your stepmom. “I’m sure it’s nothing girls. Go and mingle with all these other handsome fellas, I’m sure they’d love to dance with you two.” 

“But dad! I’ve been telling you how long I’ve had a crush on Ethan, it’s not fair!”

Your father slides his stern look over to the girls; “I’m sure Ethan is being polite, after all, it's the first time your sister attended this event, he’s more than likely trying to make her feel welcomed since she doesn’t know anyone here. I’m sure it’s nothing.” 

Glancing over to you and Ethan, your father smiles softly upon admiring the way you both flowed with the course of the musical piece being played. Whispering to himself, he quietly tells himself, “I’m sure it’s nothing…but love.” 

…………………………….

The following week, you spent more time with Ethan. For a butler, he didn’t seem to be as busy as you would expect, especially considering the house was massive. Then again, your father did mention that he was the head of the house staff, and second to only him as the master of the household, so perhaps his duties were strictly supervisory with high authority. Either way, you didn’t mind that he was free to be with you the majority of the days, it was exactly what you had needed to recover from your previous partner. Ethan had heard about him, yet never brought him up, he never felt the need to. As far as he was concerned, you had him now, and that was all that mattered. 

One day, you went out with your sisters to do some shopping. You took interest in the local food vendors that sold fresh produce, while your sisters were enchanted by the local boutique of their favorite designer brand and the release of the new collection. You interacted with the sellers, buying simple ingredients to prepare a nice meal tonight, for you and Ethan. You were surprised that your father hadn’t become curious as to your frequent absence at dinner, since you were spending each evening in private with Ethan, dining at the gazebo or at one of the guest houses. Perhaps he knew? Or maybe he just trusted you to care for yourself, after all, he never restricted you to a strict schedule, allowing you the freedom to provide for yourself whenever you needed. 

As you walked the row of street vendors, a mysterious figure from afar eyeballs your movements. Stationed at the peak of a nearby tower, he aims and observes through a scope, attached to a sniper rifle. Being the only legitimate daughter of the Ambassador came with some ups and downs, and it would appear that your father had enemies that intended to cause you harm, perhaps as a warning for money or secured and private information that would affect national security. Blindly unaware, you continued on with your shopping, just seconds away from getting pierced through the chest with a stray bullet. A bullet…that was shot in silence, not a sound heard by the crowds. 

Hunched over, bleeding, and choking out his last breath, the mysterious assassin slowly fades out over his rifle; a single hole in his chest leaks out the last of his vigor as his vision blackens. Across the tower, on the roof of a neighboring hotel, another rifleman kneels perched with his own weapon and silencer. Ejecting the casing out from the ejection port, a leather gloved hand catches the steaming hot brass; with his trigger finger is exposed, he releases and activates the safety switch on the weapon. Peeking through the scope, he watches the mysterious figure die out, then switches his aim over to you. Watching over you, his scope follows your every move, until Bittmerman pulls up. 

“Miss y/n, it's time to get back. Your sisters are already in the car.” 

You nod and smile happily. “Okay, thank you.” 

Taking Bitterman’s hand, he guides you in the backseat where you are reunited with your spoiled sisters. He shuts the door and looks up to meet the eye of the scope, emitting a nod that implies your safety behind bullet proof glass and steel. Smirking, the rifleman lowers the gun and takes it apart. Chuckling to himself, he places the components of his rifle in a fine case before standing and watching Bitterman’s car drive off. 

Taking his index, he bites the tip of the leather glove and pulls it off his left hand. Taking the brass casing, he flicks it up in the air before catching it with his strong hand, adorned with the fingerless leather glove. Rolling the brass in between his fingers, he admires it for a second before he preps to take his leave. Chuckling once more, he whispers under his breath, growing excited in seeing you upon his return home, knowing you'll be waiting for him.

“I’m just a butler… who likes to wear leather gloves, pretty girl.”

Taglist: aiden2001 , heeseung-min , lathan1510 , rayofsunshineeee

Enjoyed this piece? Show love and treat your girl to a cup of coffee. ♥️ 

☕ Ko-fi: ko-fi.com/reinbow

[marthawrites]

Hi Martha! Ooohh requests are open!!! I have a friends to lovers trope idea for Aemond.

Jealous and in love with his friend, Aemond and reader are fighting while he's driving her home and then bad weather forces them to pull over.

Love your writing!!!

OF COURSE YOU CAN! While talking about this request earlier on my blog, I discovered this anon is a beloved mutual! I will not out them in case they want to stay anon for real. I HOPE YOU LOVE THIS, MWAH! ♥

After The Closing Shift

Modern Aemond Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 4.6k+

Read part 2 here

About: You and Aemond have been best friends for years. The time is finally right for him to admit his true feelings. In the process of doing so, your cheating ex appears back in the picture. Unexpected events follow.

Includes: Mentions of divorce, cheating, some angst, adult language, and explicit sexual content featuring our pussy eating king, slight overstimulation, and unprotected protected vaginal sex

Note: Hello lovely reader! This is my first time writing friends to lovers trope. There's angst for added flavor and I hope you like it! I don't write it very often. This was SO much fun to brainstorm and create! All characters mentioned in this story are college age/in their early 20s. Aside from that, reader is non-descript. Please, enjoy! ♥

-

Aemond Targaryen fell in love with you senior year of high school. He could still recall the exact moment it happened; a click somewhere in his brain that made everything in your friendship prior to that moment make sense. 

You and your parents moved to the area for a fresh start. Being a new student during the first term of twelfth grade was difficult, but luckily you and Aemond hit it off early and well. By the end of the year you two were inseparable. He was your best friend, and you, his. 

That summer was a hard one for your parents. And by proxy, you. Their marriage hung on by a thread you weren't sure existed anymore. One evening, during a particularly horrible fight, you left in your own fit of rage. Driving aimlessly eventually led you to the Targaryen's estate. You showed up unannounced and thankfully Aemond was home; quick to let you crash on the couch in his room like you’d done a hundred times before.

It was that night. He remembered it well. You'd been in the bathroom for some time and when he knocked to check on you, you quietly answered for him to come in. He caught you midway through brushing your teeth with tear soaked eyes, toothpaste messy around your mouth, and that was it. His heart. The moment he fell in love with you.

You skipped the couch and crawled into his bed with him and he held you all the while, letting you cry into his shirt until sleep overtook you.

The remainder of the year went by in an emotional blur. Your parents divorced, you started dating Jason Lannister, and Aemond started dating Ellyn Baratheon. Before you knew it you and Aemond were freshmen in college. And then sophomores. Double dates on weekends and trips to local swimming spots in the hot summer evenings had Aemond constantly wrestling with his feelings about you. Things didn't last much longer with him and Ellyn. Physically he was with her, but mentally he was with you. When the breakup finally happened, it was mutual.

Things with you and Jason were rocky too. He was handsome and charismatic which you adored. Though, he also had a wandering eye and taste for risk. He cheated on you more than once over the last year. And yet, somehow, you took him back each time. In your heart you were scared to be alone.

After the latest breakup you told yourself (and Aemond) this time would be different. You wouldn't fall for his tricks again. He was a cheating piece of shit who wouldn't change. You were done.

Aemond knew now would be his chance. As long as he eased into it, was careful with the admission, and took it slow, he knew he had a chance. The most difficult part being: he didn't want to ruin the friendship you two built over the years.

Now tonight, near the end of your waitressing shift, you got a ping on your phone for extreme weather. Great. Of course this would happen when your car was in the shop getting worked on. You really didn't want to Uber all the way home if you didn't have to. Despite the hour – 10 pm thanks to the closing shift – you texted Aemond.

Hey Aems. You up? There's a storm rolling in and I don't wanna Uber. Can you pick me up and take me home?

A minute or so went by and your phone dinged.

I don't mind at all. Give me a few minutes to get dressed and I'll head your way.

"Thank god," you said under your breath.

Thank you! You're the best

As if on queue you got another notification. You expected it to be Aemond with some sort of snarky response, but it wasn’t. It was Jason. Your heart, somehow, jumped and fell into your stomach at the same time.

The last couple weeks had been rough. Him and Aegon liked to party a little too much, and Aegon refused to be held down by one woman – he liked to have fun. Unfortunately, Jason would sometimes get a little too involved with that fun if whoever Aegon was smooching on had a pretty friend. That’s exactly what happened: you had caught your boyfriend red-handed. A furious fright broke out between you two and you broke up with him, swearing it was the last time he’d play you like some fool. 

And yet, here you were – now – allowing your ex-boyfriend to sweet talk you with pretty words and promises of never doing it again. He missed you. He loved you. He wanted to be with you. You were his best girl and he was just drunk that night. It was a horrible mistake. He didn’t know what he was doing. He was sorry. He missed you.

Butterflies filled your belly, eyes stary as you typed away on your phone, completely unaware of anything else going on around you. 

You didn’t even notice the headlights of Aemond’s black Mercedes Benz until he honked. Rolling the darkly tinted window down, he said, “hey bunny, could you at least pretend to be happy you're not stuck in the pouring ass rain?” You heard his smirk before you saw it. He laid on his horn a second time, a longer honk, until you flipped him off; blushing and smiling wide.

Only Aemond called you “bunny”: a nickname from high school that stuck over the years. 

“Rain and thunder. Let’s go!” You hopped in and were immediately enveloped by the essence of him. The interior of his car was all sleek and black leather. Clean. Scents of his shampoo, body wash, and deodorant washed over you; long silver hair damp and pulled back into a bun. You two had spent many nights in here talking about life and there were no shortage of good memories in it. By now you didn’t even mind the weird music he liked. Heavy metal. The kind that had organs and orchestras alongside powerful drums and electric guitars. Your favorites were the bands, or songs, that had males and females singing together.

“Did you make good tips tonight? You haven’t stopped grinning this whole time,” Aemond spoke up after a few minutes, casually glancing over at you. 

You stared at your phone and continued typing away. “Huh? Oh, yeah, not bad,” you replied, briefly flickering your attention over to him. Once again your thumbs flew across your phone’s keypad; completely absorbed. “Sorry, just about done here.”

An amused chuff of air is all Aemond replied with. You knew that sound. Without even looking you knew he rolled his good eye. Another few minutes passed with Aemond singing along softly while keeping beat on the steering wheel. You two were definitely driving into the storm. The night sky was black with angry clouds. 

Finally, you clicked your phone screen off. A happy sigh sounded from you. This time would be different. Jason didn’t mean it. He was only drunk and Aegon was a bad influence. This time, he’d do it right and keep it right. Again, you smiled.

“What’re you doing tonight, bun?”

“I think Jason is gonna come over so we can talk about things in person and not just on the phone,” you replied, mind buzzing happily.

That got Aemond’s attention. “Lannister? Please tell me you’re joking,” he nearly spat the surname, glaring between you and the road.

“No I’m not joking,” you answered. “I really think it’s gonna be better this time. We just need to talk about things, you know?”

“He’s cheated on you three times! Three fucking times. You really think this time is going to be different?” His grip tightened on the steering wheel, jaw flexing as if wrestling words on his tongue.

You blinked, taken back. “W-well, yeah. He said he was sorry.”

A single harsh laugh came from Aemond’s chest. “That piece of shit said the same thing last time, too. We’ve been together nonstop for almost two weeks! Study sessions, movie nights, ice cream trips, you finally learned how to do that fancy braid thing with my hair. You said you were done with him, bunny. You said you meant it for real this time. I thought we were getting through this together.” He was speeding, now, shoulders tense as he struggled to keep his attention on both you and the road.

“I thought I was too!” Your voice came out more shrill than you intended it to, body turned slightly so you were staring straight at Aemond. “People make mistakes and fuck up, ya know? I think he’ll change this time. He said he was sorry and I wanna talk to him about it seriously. I think he just needed time to realize what he did was super shitty and really hurt me.”

The rain came harshly and suddenly. Aemond might as well have driven through a wall. It was so loud that it drowned out the music. Naturally, your voices grew louder, too. “I don’t understand what you see in him. He’s not even that good to you!”

Anxiety gripped your entire nervous system. “Pull over, Aems. I don’t like this. It hasn’t rained like this in forever and the roads are gonna be slick as fuck. Pull over. Please.” Your pulse thumped in your chest and behind your ears. You wanted to cover your eyes but somehow resisted the urge. 

He did. With it now parked safely off the side of the road he could turn his full attention to you. Even in the car’s ambient light his eye was wild. The patch over his left eye reflected absolutely zero light. “Why do you wanna be with that loser so bad?” Fury smudged his cheeks pink. The tops of his ears. The sharp lines of his face were even sharper. Harder.

You'd never seen him this mad. Not at you. Not towards you. "Because, Aemond, I love him! Maybe if you and Ellyn worked through your problems you'd understand!"

Again, that same short, dry laugh. "You don't love him. And I couldn't be with Ellyn because when I was with her I could only see you! Because I love you. Jason's a fucking scumbag who can't even give you his loyalty. I'd give you the entire world and then some!"

Silence drowned out the downpour.

By now you were both wide eyed and breathing heavy; faces flushed with emotion. The tightness in his car threatened to suffocate you both. Did you really just hear him right? Did he really mean what he just said? Love? "You're lying," is all you managed to croak; believing and unbelieving alike.

"'M not," he said as he ran a hand through the roots of his hair. "Fuck. I've loved you as long as I can remember. I didn't want to tell you like this."

Outside it rained harder. Thunder rumbled and lightning cracked. 

Yet, still, inside the Mercedes silence rang louder.

Everything started to click in your head. Your best friend had always been more than a best friend – you knew it in your heart of hearts. You two never had the opportunity to act upon such things due to relationships you found yourselves in.

But, now?

Words bloomed and died on your tongue. What the hell could you say to him?

"Fuck," he spat, emotion rasping his single word. His hands squeezed the steering wheel until his knuckles and tendons were taut.

Still, you said nothing. Just stared at him. Stupidly.

One hand moved to shift the car into drive as he said, bitterly, "know what? Whatever. Forget it. I'll take you home to your cheating fuck boy."

You had a single second to decide what to do; despite your pleas to pull over he was going to drive through the storm, regardless. In a flash of motion you didn't know you were capable of, you unclicked your seat belt and pounced over the center console. You had the element of surprise on your side and it worked. Your lips were on his in an instant. He smelled sharp; soap, shaving cream, hair product. He tasted spicy; cinnamon toothpaste. His chest was hard beneath the press of your much softer breast – both of your hands too shocked to yet roam. Heartbeat thundered in your ribs and core at the kiss, your closeness, and the eruption of sensation the intimacy brought. Begrudgingly, you pulled away to look at him. To gauge his reaction. To read the expression of his angular face. What you were met with was a swelled pupil that screamed more. Desire. Need. It oozed from every visible pore.

Amidst the downpower, thunderstorm, and heavy metal, Aemond growled at the loss of your lips. Wordlessly he crashed his mouth back to yours while he unclicked his own seatbelt – hands on your neck and jaw half a second later.

Heat pooled in your belly – and lower, still – his passion causing you to whimper against his soft mouth. "Shit, Aems," you whispered, unable to resist a moan as he bit at your bottom lip. Your tongues slid and teased against one another. It deepened and grew hungrier by the moment.

"Wanted this for so long," he said in a tone you'd never heard from him before; it sent shivers prickling all along your spine. Breaking the kiss, he dragged his lips and teeth along your jawline and neck. His hands roamed in tandem, palms pressing against your uniform clad body as if you wore fine lingerie. He squeezed the curve of your waist. The swell of a hip.

"A-ah!" You gasped, dizzy and lightheaded from the sensations his desperate affections hit you with. Each stroke of his palm, squeeze of his fingers, and slide of his tongue had you melting between his hands. "Oh my God… you're driving me insane. Why have we never done this before?" You panted, moving to crawl over the center console once and for all.

Aemond stopped you. "Not yet. I wanna be greedy with you. Will you let me?" He asked, eye dark and face mischievous as you two gazed at each other dreamily, lustfully, breathing heavy.

"Yeah," you answered, nodding with half-lidded eyes. "I trust you. Always. You know that."

"Good girl," he cooed – driving you further insane. "Lean back against the passenger door. Can you do that for me, baby girl?" 

Not your name. Not 'bunny'. Baby girl. You were in a pit of insanity now. Jason never made you feel like this. What the fuck had you been missing out on for the last two years? 

You nodded again and barely managed to swallow yet another whine of appreciation at his words. His tone. Fuck. You thought you'd heard every tone his voice could make. But no, you certainly hadn't heard this side of him before. As you leaned back, he leaned forward. His gaze never left you and the intensity of it had your belly flipping and flopping, breath shallow in your throat, as his hand slipped up between your parted thighs.

"If you want me to stop, that's all you gotta say and I will," he whispered, creeping higher. He kissed the inside of your knee and you hissed inwardly. He kissed again, this time the middle of your thigh, and you trembled. He smirked as he kissed higher still. You moaned softly, so, so, softly, and his cock ached. "Gonna pull your panties down and bury my face right under your skirt."

"A-Aemond… oh my God. Please. No, you don't have to do that. I've been running around the restaurant for over ten hours and–"

" –even better. Don't care." By now he'd pushed your skirt up as high as it could go without ripping it off. He admired your thighs. He'd always loved those; stealing glances whenever and wherever he could, even napping on them. Shifting his position, he leaned further and pressed a single hot, open mouthed kiss to your covered mound. He groaned. "You have no idea how long–" he paused, slipping a finger beneath the cotton to tug it aside, " –I've wanted to do this." He delicately traced over your slit, cock aching inside his sweats at the wetness he met.

Tension shivered all up and down your body and you thought you might actually pass out. You couldn't believe this was happening. When you looked down and saw Aemond there, between your thighs, with the most lust-ridden gaze you'd ever seen on any person, your hips arched closer to him on impulse. You opened your thighs wider and you swore you saw your best friend shiver.

He kissed your slit. Once, twice, three times, until his mouth hovered over your clit. There, he traced his tongue over that delicious bundle of nerves. He licked up the full center of your core with the flat of his tongue, a soft “mmm,” sounding from him. “Prettiest little pussy,” he half said to himself before diving his tongue back between your folds. He circled your clit, licking across it, alternating between the two. 

Each little sound you made sent Aemond’s blood roaring. He only wanted to do it again. And again. And again.

Your moans and whines picked up; he found your rhythm. With a small, satisfied moan of his own, he gently sucked on your swollen clit. “Ah!” You squeaked in surprise at that, body tensing as you tried to push his head away. “Too much… not so hard, please,” you said when he pulled back and looked up at you with a confused expression. You ran a hand down your face, blushing. “I…,” you started, trying to muster the strength to admit something you found embarrassing. “I’m.. I’m really sensitive. Jason doesn’t do this to me a lot.”

Aemond looked like you just slapped him across the face. “He doesn’t eat your pussy?”

You shook your head and shrugged a shoulder. “Not… not very often,” you answered, embarrassment flooding over you like a wave and making your blush all the redder.

“Oh my God, bunny…,” he cooed, fully tugging your underwear down your legs. He moved both his hands under your ass, now, cupping and squeezing the soft flesh as he leaned down into his previous position. “As if I didn’t hate him enough as is.” He was careful before, but now he was delicate and light with his movements. Instead of pressing, he feathered his tongue over you. Instead of dragging, he trailed his lips over you. Instead of sucking, he barely drew you into his mouth to his tongue. He found a new soft rhythm – never once hindering the sounds of his licking, slurping, or breathing – and you were putty in his hands. 

“So fucking good…!” You gasped in a breathless whisper, hands tentatively lowering to his hair where your fingers threaded into his pale roots. You held him there, tugging gently, as your hips grinded against his mouth. You were close. So close. Tension built in your belly and you weren’t sure how long it would last before it snapped. “Please don’t stop.”

He didn’t. He kept going at the exact same pace, the exact same angles, and the exact same pressure. Over and over. Just how he’d been doing it before you started grinding your pretty pussy against him. When you tugged and pulled at his hair he moaned. When your fingernails scraped against his scalp he thought he might lose himself to his own pleasure right then and there. 

The full length of your legs tightened; toes curling in your shoes. Pleasure, so immense and lovely and all-consuming, washed over you, and in the next instant you were coming undone on your best friend’s tongue. Your back arched, hands gripped – the sounds of your peak filling his car amidst heavy drums, bass, and darkly poetic lyrics.

He guided you through your orgasm, his own pulse hammering. “I’m not done yet, baby. You taste so fucking sweet,” he said, barely audible to your pleasantly ringing ears. With his hands still under you he lifted your ass to give himself a better angle into you. While you were still sensitive from your first peak he pushed his tongue into your clenching walls. He fucked you with the warm muscle, absolutely uncaring of the lewd noises it created. 

It's not that Jason had never done this to you before, but compared to Aemond he was absolute dogshit at it. You'd never experienced this kind of high from a man's face between your thighs. Ever. Aemond made it seem easy. Soon, a second climax built in the low muscles of your belly. "Holy shit..! I'm gonna cum again, fuck!" You squealed, tugging his ears, hair, anywhere you could grab, harder.

"Yeah you are. Good girl, my good girl," he answered before dipping his face right back where it was. He came at you with a slightly different angle once again. This time, the tip of his nose nuzzled against your clit in tandem with his tongue fucking. 

It was too much. His name left your lungs in a desperate cry of bliss as you tensed and shuddered before him for a second time. When finally you relaxed, and when finally he had enough of your taste in his mouth, he leaned up into the driver's seat. Even in the low light evidence of your slick shone on his face. He looked over at you and smirked, wiping his mouth. "I won't be able to not see you there like this from now on." 

You were blushed and smiling from release. Despite the pleasure Aemond gifted you with, being in such a position really wasn't comfortable. "And I won't be able to look at you and not think of this," you replied in the same tone. As gracefully as you could in the confines of his car, you maneuvered over the center console until you were straddling over his lap. His length pressed against your bare core and you both hissed at the sensation.

"What are you thinking, bunny?" He asked, barely resisting the urge – no, the need – to slide right up into you.

"I'm thinking I wanna ride you right here in your driver's seat," you answered, kissing him with the remains of your arousal on his mouth.

"There's a condom in the glove box," he said, reaching in its direction.

"I'm on the pill and I'm clean. Promise. Are… are you?"

That stopped him right in his tracks. He groaned somewhere deep in his chest. "Fuck. Yeah, babe, I am. Gonna ride me raw?"

"Yes," you shivered. In a quick fumble of motions he lifted his hips and you both pulled his sweats down as far as they could go. His cock sprang free, solid and searing against you. Looking down between your bodies you eyed it appreciatively; big and perfect and flushed with desire. "Holy shit, Aems, I didn't know you were packing so much," you said, the playful teasing nature you intended to speak with crumbling away to a wanton plea.

Another groan, or growl, or something vibrated deep in his chest. Without hesitation he popped open the front of your button-up shirt and slid the straps of your bra off your shoulders. "Perfect tits," he praised as he pushed the cups away to expose your breasts, licking and kissing over your nipples with need. 

Leaning up on your knees you reached behind yourself to guide his tip to your eager cunt. You lowered yourself, slowly, saving the stretch of his cock into your yielding body. You both cursed. He felt so fucking good.

"So perfect," Aemond said up to you from the softness of your breasts. "So wet and tight. Fuck, I love how wet you are." 

Once your body adjusted to his size you began to grind against him. Began to bounce on him. His music still played in the background but you paid it little mind. All you saw was Aemond. Your best friend. His face a beautiful display of softness and intensity with pleasure. His dark eye was heavily lidded, mouth parted. You bounced more, now, as his hands gripped your hips to help guide you along.

The storm hadn't let up yet, and thank God for the dark tint on his windows because you weren't even paying attention to any other cars that might be driving by. 

He lavished your tits with attention; kissing, licking, sucking all over them. You pushed them against his face firmer, arching your back as you rode him with fervor. He worked beneath you all the while – rolling and thrusting up into you, meeting all your movements to increase the hot coil of bliss in your belly; at the base of his spine.

Amidst half-babbled curses and praises, smacking skin, and needy moans, your phone's ringtone barely registered in your brain. Whoever was calling could wait. When it rang a second time, you felt Aemond's attention shift to it. "Your parents?" He asked through a panting groan.

"No. Probably Jason wondering where I am." You grabbed his face and kissed him hard, uncaring. 

When it rang for a third time, however, Aemond broke the kiss and reached for your phone. Sure enough it was your ex. He looked at you and smirked, dragging your hips back and forth to grind on him harder. 

"Oh my God…," you whined at the way he guided you, eyes rolling closed. "Don't answer it."

He slid his thumb across the screen before holding it up to his ear. Jason's worried tone met your ears as Aemond continued fucking up into you through your grinding. You tried to swallow your panic. Tried to stay quiet through the bliss.

Tried to.

"She's done with you. Stop calling," Aemond said coldly. He glared at you, grinning.

You heard Jason's "what the fuck? Is that her? What're you doing?" Through the phone. He was pissed. Apparently you weren't being quiet enough. 

"She's got better things to do than worry about a cheating scumbag. Lose her number." Aemond sat the phone down on the center console and didn't bother to hang up. 

As long as Jason stayed on the line he'd be able to hear your moans of pleasure, wet skin slapping on wet skin as you began to bounce on his cock with renewed passion. "You're such an asshole," you said, a third climax quickly approaching.

"Just keep fucking me, baby girl. Don't worry about him, he hung up.” Honestly, Aemond didn’t know if Jason hung up. He might have laughed if it weren't for his own peak tightening his balls. He wasn't going to last much longer. "Squeeze my cock. Be a gold girl and soak my cock. I wanna feel you cum first," he groaned, voice bordering desperate.

"Cum with me. Fill me up with all of you," you whispered, moaning by his ear.

Goosebumps erupted on his skin. He didn't need to be told twice. Those words falling from your lips was all he needed to unload in you with twitch after mighty twitch, coating your walls with his seed. You crumbled with him. You rode your pleasure out on him, slowly easing once it all started to be too much. He softened inside you and you carefully moved from atop him.

There was a mess all over his groin and all between your thighs, too. If you thought you needed a shower before getting into Aemond's car, now you really needed one. Outside, the storm was finally letting up.

You both fixed yourself in partially stunned and satisfied silence – your underwear being the only thing to clean yourselves with.

It was Aemond who broke it. "Stay over with me tonight."

You looked at him and smiled. "Long as I can shower."

"Of course you can," he said, eye twinkling with more than mischief.

"And, long as I can sleep in one of your shirts."

"You already know the answer to that one, bunny."

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

Masterlist

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @ruby-dragon @bloodwyrmcaraxes @chompchompluke @fan-goddess

Aemond taglist: @darylandbethfanforever9 @bellaisasleep @aemondsblog @khaleesihel @sirenofavalon @sahvlren @doublesparrows @aemonds-fire @nikstrange @abbyandizzysmum @rafesbarbiegirl @lost-and-founds @castellomargot @okfashionista @avidreader73

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 3

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

The Kamisato Estate was truly more beautiful in person. That little courtyard in the game was a joke compared to the real thing.

The few servants still awake at this time pass by as Thoma leads you into the estate. Almost all of them give Thoma some sort of greeting as they pass by. A smile, a wave or even a 'hey Thoma!'. They give you curious looks but no one comments on your presence.

At least you don't realize how they raise their eyebrows at Thoma holding your hand. It's not completely unusual for Thoma to be extra friendly in this way but bringing someone to the estate was a whole new thing.

"If you don't mind, you can wait here for my lord and my lady." Thoma opens the door to the room as he speaks. Its a drawing room with a window to the outside. The moonlight seeps in as the curtain blows.

You take a seat on the cushion as best as you remember the formal way. Inazuma style was inspired by Japan and you didn't know a lot of Japan customs.

The door closes softly and you're left to your thoughts. It's not long before the soft pitter patter of footsteps are heard coming from the hallway.

The door opens and Ayaka in comfortable clothes steps in with a smile. Her hair is loose and it's a good look on her. You stand up and bow politely.

"Its an honor to meet the Shirasagi Himegimi. My name is Y/N."

Ayaka smiles gracefully and gives a polite bow back. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N. Thoma has explained a few things about you, most specifically your position as the creator's oracle."

It's clear by the gleam in her eyes that she doesn't believe you at all. You keep a peaceful expression on your face as Ayaka continues.

"My brother was in a meeting for most of the day and would like to address your situation tomorrow at a more convenient time. We'll have arrangements made for you to sleep here tonight."

That's fair, the moon is high in the sky. You don't need a clock to know that. But she could have easily asked Thoma to rely this to you. Meaning she wants to talk to you about something privately.

You purposely wring your hands in fake nerves to test her alertness to your actions. Her eyes immediately notice it. Either the game downplayed her attentiveness or she's just super relaxed around the traveler.

"No need to be nervous. I just wanted to speak with you for a while before tomorrow. After all, maybe my brother doesn't need to speak to you for us to know the truth about you."

It's a threat your mind supplies. A threat that if Ayaka herself could see past your lies and deceit, that she'll kick you out immediately. In fact you bet the Shuumatsuban are already looking into you as Ayaka takes the seat across from you.

There's a soft knock on the door before Ayaka says a quiet "Come in." A young servant comes in with a tea set and placed it on the table between Ayaka and you.

There's only the clinking of China and the pouring of tea as the servant brews tea. After pouring a cup for both of you the servant bows and leaves.

"Then I'll bite your bait. What do you want to know? How do you want me to prove myself?"

You know that's not what she's actually after at this moment. She's probably well aware that Ayato is better suited to figuring out any lies or schemes you might have to sell your oracle position.

"No, that's not what I came to talk about at all. I'm more interested in hearing your opinion on the creator and other topics."

She wants to know if you're truly a fake believer using the creator's name for nefarious acts. Or a crazy fanatic worshipper who convinced themselves that they are a oracle.

You feel a little happy seeing Ayaka stay up this late to help Ayato with his work. Even if it means being cross-examined by her.

You bring the teacup to your lips and take your time to savor the taste. At least you would be able to taste it if you weren't nervous to hell and back.

"Well due to my memory loss I don't know much about the creators past. So I'll need you to be more specific on what you want my opinion on."

"The Electro Archon started the vision hunt decree as a way to get closer to the creator and achieve eternity. The creator helped the traveler get the decree repealed. But many citizens that suffered due to the decree can't help but feel hurt that the creator wasn't more open on their opposition."

This was a hard subject but it's exactly what you need.

"It's understandable that they feel that way. I can't speak on my personal experience since I don't remember anything at that time but the effects have permanently altered Inazuma."

You take a breath as you prepare your words that may or may not damn you.

"The creator shouldn't be blamed for not being more open as they are stuck in a different world with who knows what kind of restrictions. At the same time, the people of Inazuma shouldn't be so reliant on the gods, both the Shogun and the creator."

Ayaka's stare is cold and unnerving. She stays as silent as snowfall as you speak. Was it just you or did the room get colder?

"The creator has lived in a different world all this time. I believe they want everyone and every being to flourish on their own with their own power. That's what visions help with. This blind reliance and trust in the Shogun is what led to so many Inazuma residents to suffer. Not necessarily because they caused it but they enabled it because the majority didn't question the decree and simply accepted the reasoning without a fight. While vision holders are a minority, they still exist. And their decisions and actions have ripple effects that do effect the majority of Inazuma."

A visible steam breath leaves your mouth as ice begins to crawl from the floor where Ayaka sits. Her bangs cast a shadow that leaves her expression unreadable. Goosebumps cover your exposed skin as you continue.

"Would the creator really be happy with overly dependent subjects? Is a parent happy when they see their child refuse to use their gifts and hard work to achieve their dreams? The creator loves Teyvat and everything in it. The good and bad has shaped the world they created. And I believe they love it all. Not that they wish harm but nothing can live without harming something. That's a hard truth people try to deny."

Frostbite strikes your fingers as they start turning a pale blue. The ice is about to touch the cushion you're sitting on.

Then it all stops. The temperature goes back to normal and the ice shatters leaving the shards broken on the floor. Your heart rate goes back to normal.

Ayaka stands and holds out her hand to you. You don't move and merely stare at the smile that's basically frozen on her face.

"I can't say that I agree with you but I find your viewpoint fascinating. It's fresh and bold. I'll leave brother to make the final decision about how trustworthy you are."

It seems your gamble payed off as you place your hand in hers. Her skin is chilly as she pulls you up before releasing you. She seems lost in her head as she leads you out the room.

You follow her down the empty halls as her hair gracefully flows behind her. Truly the title Shirasagi Himegimi suits her.

She stops at a door and opens it. The room is small but cozy. It has a neat bed, small bedside drawer, coffee table and a window showing the courtyard.

"You can sleep here for tonight. Breakfast will be delivered to you here as well. Brother's schedule is a bit unpredictable so he'll visit sometime before the afternoon."

"Thank you for your hospitality." Is your reply as you step into the room. Ayaka hasn't dropped that polite smile even as she closes the door.

You stand in your spot in the middle of the room as you hear Ayaka's soft footsteps gradually get quieter. It's only when nothing can be heard that your body loosens the tension and slumps.

Your back softly hits the door and you let your body slide down into a fetal position. The cold that ate away at your body earlier was still lingering.

Was your body still cold or was it just a phantom feeling after that display of power?

You still didn't consider Ayaka a threat. At least not mentally as she doesn't even need her vision to murder you. The Kamisato Clan is known for their sword techniques after all.

It's was Ayato. You could have pulled the same act you did to Sara. Acting meek and shy while gushing about the creator. And you know full well that Ayaka would have fallen for it before handing you off to Ayato.

But that plan only worked under the premise that you would be meeting them both in the same day. By Ayaka meeting you today and Ayato tomorrow, Ayato gets information about you from Ayaka and can look into you through the Shuumatsuban.

That would let Ayato think up a counter or even use your act against you. You can already imagine him using your oracle act as a way to bring you to Ei. She would recogize you by your voice and that would mean the end for you. No fried egg would save you from that fate.

The only way to avoid that was by playing a whole new viewpoint that would leave Ayaka feeling confused. Ayaka would report to Ayato and Ayato would feel a stronger need to meet you himself. The more unpredictable you were, the less cards Ayato had.

Your hand reach up to your mask and you're about to take it off. You slam your hand into your lap, away from the mask as you remember the Shuumatsuban.

There's no way that the Ayato, would let a suspicious person in the estate and let them stay the night without supervision.

Your suspicions made everything around you look shady. Like Sayu was hiding in plain sight at this very moment. But acting so skeptical would only make them in turn more suspicious.

Your stomach growling was what snapped you out of your thoughts. The last thing you ate was those roasted lavender melon with the Arataki gang. You missed them dearly.

You hold your stomach as the familiar hunger pains started. Getting off the floor and lazily draping your bag on the bedside drawer, you flop onto the bed.

God did it feel great.

After walking, running, lying, stealing and bullshitting your way through the whole day, you were utterly exhausted. Plus this mattress was wonderful. Nothing like the beat up and dirty mattresses you were used to sleeping on in Earth.

As you shimmied onto your back to stare up at the ceiling, another pang of hunger hit you.

Didn't they have etiquette for this? Maybe something like late night guests would be offered a snack and a place to rest?

Your bitter chuckle rings throughout the room. You may be in the guest room but you highly doubt they see you as a guest. There was no way you were waking someone up for food. You've spent nights starving before, you could do it again.

Your eyelids drift shut every so often as nerves pricked at you. Knowing that a Shuumatsuban is watching over you has kept you awake despite your exhaustion. Your mask is still on your face adding to the uncomfortable feeling of being watched.

But everyone has a limit and you've reached yours. The mental stress, lack of food, and injuries took their toll on you. It's impossible to remember when you fell asleep.

Hands. The feeling of hands on you makes your heart drop. It's just a dream you try to tell yourself as the hands continue touching.

It's taking something. Money? Food? Clothes? Those were the only things you had left after leaving.

It's only when the hands are touching your face and reaching for something hard and cold on your face that you sit up in a flash.

You weren't on the streets, you haven't been on the run for a while. Not yet at least. You were in Genshin Impact you remind yourself.

A shadowy blur moves away from you as you keep your hand over your mask that was almost pulled off.

The little mujina ears on the assailant gives away their identity.

Sayu uses her Yoohoo to disappear before you could react. But you still feel on edge, as if at any moment more Shuumatsuban will come out and hold you down. Ripping off your mask, exposing-

You let out a breath. Deep breaths are the only thing you focus on to calm the rising panic. To keep away the hands reaching out for you from the shadows.

You don't sleep after that.

The sun rises and the estate slowly gets louder as servants bustle about. Your eyes tirelessly read a book in the archive on the screen. The eyebags that you usually have are darker than normal.

You decided to read through the Genshin archive in the Paimon menu to stay awake. It was a good refresher on the events of the game and the characters. You needed to use all the resources you had.

You also noticed a difference. All the books were either slightly changed or had a overhaul to fit someone in. The creator. All the books from each of the nations have some sort of mention, indication or even a chapter dedicated to you.

Did the books change once you entered Teyvat? Did everyone and everything change to acknowledge a creator when you entered Teyvat? Or was it always there and only by entering Teyvat were you able to view that specific information?

Two knocks on the door snap you out of your head and you open the door. The servant bows and hands you a tray of food. You thank them and are sure to be extra gentle as you hold it.

The moment the door is closed, you shove a piece of bread into your mouth. You close your eyes in relief and savor the taste of freshly baked bread.

With the tray on the table you eat in a hurry. You don't recognize half the dishes or the ingredients but you don't care. It's tasty, filling and hot.

With the tray picked clean, you lean against the window and try to sense if the Shuumatsuban were still watching you. After a beat of no sense of danger or unease, you guess that they have more important things to do with the sun up.

You get comfortable on the window sill as you look out the window. Many people pass by as you watch. People watching was fun in times like these where there was nothing else to do.

A flash of blue and red enter your vision making you more alert. It's Ayaka and Thoma.

You unlock the window and raise it halfway. At the same time you reach for the book you were pretending to read during the night.

With the book comfortably on your lap and your eyes on it, you focus on the faint sound of their voices.

Damn, they're too far away. If you lean out any farther you'll draw eyes. Just as you're about to give up, the wind starts to blow in your direction.

You're suddenly able to hear their voices clearly while the voices closer to you are drowned out. Strange but you aren't going to take it for granted.

"You spoke with Y/N last night right? How was it my lady?"

"Different." You can basically taste the resentment and confusion.

"I'm sorry it didn't go so well. I thought you would feel a instant connection like I had."

Oh? This immediate liking to you seems to be a pattern rather than a coincidence at this point.

"I didn't feel anything. Not a instant dislike, although I admit I am biased hearing them be referred to as the creator's oracle. I just felt blank. The conversation was strange, their answers were like no other."

Was there no connection because you haven't pulled for her?

"I'm going to need a bit more than that to tell you any advice my lady."

"I asked for their opinion on the creator regarding the Vision Hunt Decree. Their answers were so contradictory that I was becoming frustrated."

Ayaka's voice grew a little louder as she started to rant about you.

"On one hand they downplay the creators existence and power. On the other they're sympathetic to the creators feelings and any restrictions the creator might have wherever they may be. If anything they seem to blame the residents and the Shogun more than anything else. Which would be good if they didn't discredit the creator in the same breath!"

Thoma nervously laughs at Ayaka getting so worked up over you. It seems you have a natural knack for bringing out some of her hidden sides.

"I can't say that I'm not ashamed of how I lost control of my vision and temper for a bit. It's so unlike me and I'm quite embarrassed. I have an image to uphold as the Shirasagi Himegimi after all."

Her words are so sad and disappointed that you almost feel bad for messing with her like that. Almost.

"Honestly my lady, I'm not totally surprised that Y/N said something like that. In fact they implied something similar in my last conversation with them as we walked here. You see-"

Thoma's voice fades away as the wind stops blowing. You frown and are about to look up from the book you've had your eyes on when things start to shake.

Every moment or so you feel yourself vibrate as if an earthquake is happening. You look around and see everyone acting normally. Perhaps this shaking is connected to the wind that help you eavesdrop.

The shaking stops and the wind blows from under the door of your room. What would have been silent footsteps become deafening sounds as you realize that someone is heading for your room.

It's probably Ayato you think as you put away the book.

Most likely Ayato you think as you fix your clothes and reposition your mask.

It's Ayato you confirm as the man himself opens the door to see you sitting at the coffee table with a smile. His suit is crisp and clean, not a single speck of dirt can be seen.

Rude, it's rude to open the door without at least knocking. You bow politely in your seat and speak without letting your thoughts and feeling slip out at all.

"It's an honor to meet you Lord Kamisato."

Rude, it's rude to not stand up as you greet someone new. Ayato speaks in a smooth voice. You almost hate how good it sounds in person.

"It's lovely to meet you too Y/N."

His words make your eyes fall to the mole below his lip. You try to ignore his absolutely horrendous amount of layers he's wearing as he sits down. The long sleeves fold perfectly without creasing. There's no doubt that he's familiar with information digging.

"I apologize for not being able to see you yesterday. You arrived quite late at night and I saw no reason to rush to meet a scammer."

Ah, that familiar title. You never accepted it with pride but you couldn't deny it. Even now the title 'scammer' suited you.

"The Kamisato Clan much like many others are heavily involved with the creator. We have access to both government records and oversea records of the creator. Yet not a single one of them ever talks about a oracle or the possibility of one."

"Did any of the text deny the ability for a oracle to exist?"

A shot in the dark but it seemed to work as Ayato diverted to a different topic.

"That little loophole won't work forever. What I'm more curious about is how you managed to get Thoma to bring you here."

"I just wanted a boat to Liyue to continue my work. Itto, your 'bro', brought me to Thoma and I divulged some private information to Thoma. I'm sure he already told you so I don't see the point in asking me. I will admit that I wasn't expecting to be brought here."

Ayato is good, he didn't even react when you mentioned Itto's 'bro' thing with him. A conversation with him is just as nerve wracking as you thought it would be.

"Yes, that little piece of information you told him was something. You could be the creators oracle but that's the least likely option. Wouldn't be more logical to assume that you got it from one of the Kamisato's many enemies?"

A threat drenched in the sweetest honey is all you hear. Anyone else would either get mad and fall for Ayato's little bait. Or get nervous and give him more reason to suspect that possibility.

You do neither and double down on your stance.

"Least likely doesn't mean impossible. It's not like you can drag me to all your enemies and ask them if I belong to them. I'm a oracle and able to prove it."

"Or I could just have the Shuumatsuban get the information from you. Whether you're an enemy spy or not, you don't have anyone looking for you. And if anyone does come asking for you then that's just another lead for me."

He pulled no punches with that one. He flat out said he could just torture you and anyone that comes asking for you. If you really were from this world and was faking the oracle stuff then Ayato would definitely go through on this threat.

"I don't understand what you think I'm trying to do with a oracle job that I don't flaunt. If I really was a fake, wouldn't I be spreading it like fire?"

"As true as that might be, that doesn't remove you from suspicions. I mean, even though you're trying to stay low, here you are trying to convince me that you're the real deal. Doesn't seem very low profile to me."

Twisting words and intentions was a tricky but useful tool. Something you both were skilled in using it seems. It seems being a scammer and a politician aren't that different.

You could try to explain from the beginning but it would only be seen as a excuse. Ayato would probably find it amusing, his voice lines spoke about him finding enjoyment in people squirming come to mind.

Instead you shrug and stay silent letting him win this round. He sighs seeming disappointed before placing some papers from who knows where onto the table.

"So I was right to assume you took your sweet time to investigate me. Judging from how there's only a few pages, you didn't find much."

Ayato lets you read through the papers. That's probably a sign that if you can't prove yourself then he'll kill you. You try not to think too hard about it as you put the papers back down.

"You claimed to have woken up at a shrine somewhere near Ritou and strangely enough, anyone that should have been there at that time can't seem to remember."

"Remember me or remember in general?"

"In general." He leans closer with a calm facade keeping his curiosity at bay. "I wonder why that is."

"Don't expect me to remember anyone there at that time. I was too busy reorienting myself to notice much."

"I don't expect much from you anyway." Ouch. "But I'd say I've given you more than enough time to come clean. Are you ready to prove yourself Y/N?"

"I-"

"Oh and I won't be asking for the same proof the others accepted. I require something more concrete than a switched weapon and old information."

Well it wasn't like you could tell the future, well maybe you could if you played your cards right but you had something else planned for Ayato.

"No need to worry Lord Kamisato, I have something you'll be forced to believe."

"No disappearing acts either."

"Even if I show proof of where I disappeared to?"

"That all depends on what sort of proof you provide. I have strict requirements."

"Tell me about it."

"Pardon?"

"What?"

You don't give Ayato a moment to process your sass as you stand up and walk over to his side of the table. You hold out your hand to him with a purposefully cunning smile. There's no need to hide that sort of thing from him.

"I hope you won't die of heatstroke in those clothes since we'll have to go outside for this. Get ready to get your clothes dirty, rich boy."

A huff of amusement leaves him as he gets up on his own ignoring your hand. You drop it with a uncaring shrug and begin walking out the door.

It's only when you stop at the doorway that you turn to face him. He's smirking at you knowing exactly what you're going to say next.

"So where's the exit?"

You stand in front of the blue teleport waypoint outside the Kamisato estate. You glance behind you to make sure Thoma, Ayaka, and Ayato were all still there.

You clap your hands to grab their attention. Which was unnecessary for Ayato as he hasn't stopped staring at you. Seems he was taking the 'no disappearing' thing seriously.

"Just to make sure, only those being controlled by the creator can use the teleport waypoint. Meaning normal people, vision holders, acolytes and even awakened acolytes cannot use it correct?"

They all nod and Ayato seems to catch on to what you're about to do. Jokes on him because he's wrong.

"Then watch and try not to burn your eyes."

With that as your only warning, you touch the teleport waypoint. It glows brightly as gold starts to takeover the blue color. Turning back around with a smile you look to see their reactions.

With different degrees of shock, Thoma seems the most impressed. Ayaka composes herself quickly as expected of her considering her title. Ayato does seem surprised but his smile seems more excited rather than trusting.

"Was that enough proof?" Your question has no clear reciprocate but it's clearly directed to Ayato.

He shakes his head no and explains more for Ayaka and Thoma who gave him questioning glances.

"As good as this seems, I still have my suspicions. And something tells me you have more up your sleeve."

"Yeah, cause something told me this wouldn't be enough to convince you. Which is also why I asked that Thoma and Lady Kamisato accompany us."

You walk the few steps back to them and look towards the Grand Narukami Shrine. You point up there with a smile as you think about what you're about to put Ayato through.

"You know how there's a teleport waypoint all the way at the Grand Narukami Shrine? Well I have to get up there to make that one gold too. And since Lord Kamisato doesn't want me disappearing, it seems he'll have to come with me."

The color in Ayaka's face drains with every word you say. She's quickly realizing just how long it'll take and how much Ayato will have to work overtime to catch up.

"Can't you go down to the teleport waypoint in Chinju Forest instead? It's around the same distance but will be faster since it's not up a mountain." Thoma asks trying to lessen Ayato's workload.

You smile with a little too much joy but you could afford to slip up a little every now and then.

"That would be far too dangerous! I mean Lord Kamisato with an untrustworthy individual like me, alone in a forest like that? The Grand Narukami Shrine has many visitors and shrine maidens so he'll be safe on the journey there."

"Brother is strong and has a vision. Surely there's no need for you both to travel to the shrine. No offense but my brother could deal with you just fine."

"Oh I wholeheartedly agree with you there but! It seems Lord Kamisato thinks differently seeing as he had the Shuumatsuban watch over me while I was sleeping last night."

Ayaka and Thoma freeze at the information and give a Ayato a questioning look. Ayato who was content with watching this debate gives them both a serene smile.

He doesn't apologize but you never expected him too. This was your way of revenge for leaving you hungry rather than the spying.

"It seems Y/N is right about the shrine being the best option. The hike to there is at least 30 minutes. Please let any visitors know that I'll be back in around an hour or so."

You don't feel as satisfied seeing Ayato take the punishment with such grace but you don't let that show.

"Thoma, Lady Kamisato please make sure to be at the teleport waypoint at least 10 minutes before the first 30 minutes. It's necessary for me to prove myself."

Thoma and Ayaka give a confused nod but avoid questioning it. They go back inside and you see Ayato walking towards the stairs to Chinju Forest instead of the stairs up that lead to the electrograna.

"Lord Kamisato, the electrograna is at the other staircase, why are you going down this way?"

He stops and smiles at you knowing something you apparently didn't.

"The electrograna only work for those being controlled by the creator and electro vision holders. Since we are neither, we'll have to take the extra long civilian route."

Unexpected but not impossible to work with.

"Then let me at least try to activate it. I'm not the traveler or a acolyte but I was able to get the teleport waypoint to respond to me. The electrograna may be similar."

"Respond doesn't always equal work. I know you want to teleport using the structure, which won't work, but alright lets try the electrograna."

His arrogance and confidence in his words are both understandable and annoying. You'll show him. You seem to begin doing this not for your oracle identity but to take him down a peg.

You walk side by side as you guys climb the stairs and walk under the red gate. The Thunder Sakura Boughs come into view before you both stop in front of it.

Before you could even give yourself a mental pat on the back for remembering the name of the Sakura Bough, Ayato speaks with an annoyed tone.

"Well? While you may have all day to admire it, I do not."

"Aren't opportunities like this hard to come by? Shouldn't you at least try to enjoy such a sunny day to bask in?" You say with a sigh making it your mission to kill as much time as possible.

"Even so, I would hate to cut your little show short for things that actually matter."

You know he doesn't mean it completely since the whole 'blue turns to gold' definitely showed something. But you still feel annoyed. With a roll of your eyes, you reach into the Sakura Bough and grab the electrograna.

With a smug smile you pull it out and show it to Ayato. "Seems my deduction was correct. We get to take the shortcuUUTT"

You scream as the electrograna connects to a thundersphere above the next boulder and yanks you towards it. You release the electrograna and your back hits the boulder with a thud.

You groan as you lie on your back and try to deal with the growing pain in your back. Your eyes snap open as you hear laughter coming from the boulder below.

You crawl to the edge and look down to see Ayato trying and failing to contain his laughter. Your face burns in embarrassment as you yell.

"I get thrown into a boulder and you're here laughing at me?! Not even asking if I'm okay? Is this how you react to everyone that gets yanked by an electrograna?!"

He only laughs harder at your words.

"I swear the moment I get down there I'm gonna smother you with those stupid long sleeves." You bite out as you climb down.

Ayato still has a smile as you look at the Sakura Bough with caution.

"So since only I'm able to touch it, you'll have to be touching me for you to be taken with me. There's no way I can carry you so it seems you'll be stuck carrying me. Maybe the world is fair after all." You finish as you direct a smile at him so sure that he'll hate the idea of carrying you.

But Ayato doesn't look mad at all, he looks more amused than anything else. With a disappointed pout you look back at the Sakura Bough as you finish speaking.

"It's better that way too since you have a glider so we wont crash land. I'll grab the electrograna but as you clearly saw, I can't control it very well."

"It's not that hard, you just have to angle your body correctly." Ayato speaks with infuriating smile that looks kind. You wanna punch that smile off his face.

"Then since you'll be doing the carrying, you'll also be controlling which way we go. Do you know the way by heart?"

"Admittedly I don't, do you?"

"In fact, I do. Before I take each electrograna, I'll point out which way you'll need to go with each thundersphere. Sound good?"

"That works with me, now up you go." You turn to him confused as you hold the electrograna.

You yelp as Ayato bends and swiftly grabs your knees and throws you over his shoulder. Thankfully he didn't put you on the shoulder that had the armor but it still hurt.

"What the fuck?! A little warning would be nIC-"

Your words are cut off as the electrograna pulls you both up to the first thundersphere. Your stomach lurches and you feel nauseous as it pulls you guys to the second thundersphere.

Ayato lands on the ground as the next set of electro transportation is on the other side of the broken bridge. There's a twisting root that serves as the middle part of the bridge.

As much as you would like for Ayato to put you down and jump across the gaps on your own. You know full well that you don't have the power nor energy to do that.

Ayato is aware of it too as he keeps you on his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and walks towards the bridge. But before he can start parkouring, you wrap your legs around his torso and beat his back.

"Wait, wait, wait. You absolutely cannot carry me like this the rest of the way."

"That position isn't all that bad. It'll take some getting-"

Your breath is hot on the shell of his ear, your voice low and soft. Your mouth so close to his ear makes him shiver.

"Ayato Kamisato I will throw up all over your expansive ass clothes if you do not carry me differently."

Hearing his name fall from his lips makes him freeze but you honestly couldn't be bothered to upkeep etiquette when you feel like your breakfast is about to escape you.

Almost gently Ayato moves you off his shoulder and carries you bridal style. He smiles down at you with fondness?

"Is this position better for you?"

"Yeah, way better. Congratulations your clothes are saved."

He chuckles at your dry wit and starts parkouring across the broken bridge. To steady yourself, you wrap your arms around his neck. It's a little embarrassing to do especially with how his hair brushes against your hands every so often.

He makes it across without stumbling or falling. There's a cliff with the next Sakura Bough. You take a moment to point and give directions.

"You see the floating island right across us? That should be the next one."

"Hmm, isn't it strange how someone who should have almost no memory knows the way to the shrine by heart?"

"Isn't is also strange someone who lives right near it, not know the way by heart? Plus you have probably have used the electrograna way at least once due to the creator."

"Is that knowledge from the creator or your own guess?"

"Does that really matter when I'm right?"

He laughs a little and you grab the electrograna hoping to catch him off guard. Not enough to drop you but just to wipe that smile off his face.

As you expected he easily adapted with no problem and arrived at the floating platform.

"Alright it's about to get really messy since the path becomes super scattered in the middle of Mt. Yougou."

After explaining the next set of directions you grab the electrograna and Ayato seems to be smiling a little wider. Suspicious.

You are proven correct when halfway through the thunderspheres he starts fumbling with your weight. You cling onto him tighter in fear of being dropped.

"Holy shit, Kamisato why are you repositioning me when we're thousands of feet in the air?!"

"Aw no Ayato this time? Seems like my hands are starting to slip." Ayato continues, this fucker is enjoying your panic.

"Ayato, you drop me and I'll rip those pretty blue locks with me!" You scream as he starts fucking dangling you. You make good on your threat by holding his neck with a fistful of his hair.

Yes, he will kill you the moment you guys aren't in the middle of the air. But it's always safer to fear the closest threat than the one in the future.

Ayato goes back to holding you properly as he chuckles. But you keep holding his hair in case he gets any funny ideas. Finally you get to the landing where the next Sakura Bough is and you release his hair.

You get out of his arms to kneel on the ground and take deep breaths. You were used to high speed chases on foot and car. You even had to run atop rooftops in come cities. But flying through the air was definitely a new one.

"Surely you can't be tired already? I'm the one who's been carrying you this whole time."

"You call that carrying??? I saw my life flash before my eyes at least 3 times!"

You stand up and glare at him. He seems to find all your reactions incredibly amusing. Honestly if you truly felt your life was in danger, you would lie and just go to the Chinju forest teleport waypoint.

But you could tell he was having too much fun to actually drop you. Yes you were still terrified but letting your emotions show was making him put his guard down.

With every series of thunderspheres Ayato and you bickered and fought. At least until you had gotten to what should be the last electrograna needed.

"This should be the last one. Soon enough I'll no longer need to ride the Ayato Express." You say with a teasing tone.

"Until we have to go back you mean."

"Crap, I completely forgot. I was just thinking of teleporting back but I'm not even sure if I can teleport people with me."

"You mean if you can teleport at all."

"You'll see I'm not lying about this."

"So you lied about the other stuff instead?"

This makes you laugh in shock as you turn to face him with a annoyed smile. Except unlike his other jabs that were told with a cold smile, this one was different.

His smile was small but true and his naturally downturned eyes didn't look as muddled as usual. For a second it seemed like he was as clear and readable as water.

It's gone just as quickly as it was there but you turn your head away to hide your own smile.

"You know what I mean. Now don't drop me or pretend to drop me!" You grab the electrograna as you speak.

His maneuvering is just as graceful as he was the first time. "What an absurd thing to accuse me of. I mean it's not my fault you keep squirming and looking down. It's like you want to jump off and escape me."

"Ha! Nice try Ayato but if you're aren't strong enough to carry me the whole way then just say so."

You aren't exactly sure when you started calling him by his first name but Ayato hasn't corrected you so far.

"I am but the humble Yashiro Commission leader. Maybe I should let you down and watch the electrograna make you smack into another boulder."

That gets a laugh out of you. The pain in your back from that incident has already disappeared but you doubt Ayato will let you live it down.

As you laugh Ayato listens to the sweet sound quietly. The way your lips stretch into a smile and cheeks get a little flushed is distracting to say the least.

Distracting enough that he stumbles on the landing on the stairs to the shrine. Trying to correct his mistake he holds you tighter against him and turns so that his back hits the mountain instead of you.

You look up at him in worry as he grunts from the pain. He's still gentle as he sets you down onto your feet.

"Shit, that looked rough. You okay Ayato?" Distracted by his pain you don't think about any sort of etiquette rules as your hands trail up his arms and lightly rub his shoulders.

His breath shudders and he lifts your hands off him, softly he pushes them back to you.

"I'm okay Y/N, it looked worse than it felt." Ayato could feel your concerned stare through the mask. Usually he wouldn't mind it since the enemy underestimating him would only make his job easier. But he feels more embarrassed than anything else since you saw him like that despite your shady identity.

"If you say so. The journey is almost over so don't die on me yet."

Saving him anymore embarrassment you turn and begin walking up the stairs case to the shrine. You hear the clacking from his way too expensive shoes following you.

You can't stand the awkwardness and clear your throat. You've always wondered about some things.

"So you know how visions affect their holders? Like pyro visions make them naturally hotter and cryo visions make them colder?"

Ayato catches up to you to walk by your side. "Yes, it happens without activating it. Why do you ask?"

"Well what happens to hydro vision holders like you? Do you sweat more or have more fluid in your body?"

Ayato stares at you with the most incredulous look on his face. "I truly wonder what goes on in your head to make you have such questions."

"That's not an answer."

"I don't have a answer for such a absurd question."

"Well water makes skin clearer right? And your skin is pretty clear but that may be due to a skin care routine since Lady Ayaka also has clear skin."

"I know Ayaka has a skin care routine but I only wash my face in the morning."

"Oh that is so unfair. But I guess I was right in assuming that the hydro vision affects your inner body more. But still super unfair."

"Between the answer you gave Ayaka last night and the questions you ask me now, I almost feel like you're from another world."

You know he's just joking but for a second your heart dropped. He didn't seem to notice as you arrive at the Grand Narukami Shrine. God you hoped Yae would be at the publishing house.

The Narukami Shrine is empty. No people, no noise, not even visitors. You look around a little confused as you both approach the blue teleport waypoint.

Seemingly picking up on your confusion Ayato answers your unspoken question.

"It's noon meaning everyone is inside for the prayer, it'll last for another 30 minute."

Internally you're relieved beyond measure that you won't have to deal with Yae and Ayato at the same time. Then again Yae and Ayato naturally repel each other.

You touch the teleport waypoint and watch it turn gold. Ayato still looks a little awed but you've grown used to it at this point.

"Well it's finally time for you to teleport. I have very little expectations."

Your mouth sets into a firm line. "You'll be blown away even more then."

Despite everything you've gone through with him, Ayato still seems skeptical of you. The plan you have will make you seem crazy but it's your only shot.

You planned on touching the teleport and then using your other hand to bring up the screen. Yet you only got to touching it and remembering where the Kamisato Estate teleport waypoint is on the map when your vision goes white.

The feeling of being teleported is still unfamiliar but you manage to fix yourself as you open your eyes to see the Kamisato Estate. You lock eyes with surprised green and blue eyes.

To think you can teleport to gold waypoints by simply remembering where it is on the map. It couldn't have come at a more convenient time. You smile charmingly and step closer to the duo.

Ayaka becomes embarrassed as she remembers how she acted around you. She leans back with a red face. She uses her fan to hide most of her face.

You're unperturbed and simply lean closer till your face is nearly touching the mask. "Ayato requires strong evidence that my teleportation wasn't staged or shady. So I'll be taking your fan as proof."

You can tell she's about to back away. To stop her you place one hand on her back and she leans back making the position look like you're dipping her.

You easily slide the fan out of her loose grip and lean back to help her stand straight. After removing your hand from her back you turn around to walk to the teleport waypoint.

Ayaka keeps her head down as the lingering feeling of your breath on her face stays. The spot where you held her is still warm. Her mind can only remember that confident grin on your face as you slid her fan from her shaky hands.

Thoma watched the scene with a tight grip on his spear. He took it out in surprise when you appeared but he's using it more as a stress tool at the moment. He can't help but feel a flash of envy when you got so close to Ayaka and held her.

Even as you walk back to the teleport waypoint both of them want to call out. They want to ask you to stop, to come back. But neither of them let out a sound as you touch the structure and leave in a flash of white.

You open your eyes and see Ayato standing in front of you with a rare troubled expression. He sighs in relief seeing you in front of him again.

Your smile is victorious as you stand in front of him before pulling Ayaka's out from behind your back.

"Care to believe me now?" You ask as you hold the fan over your lower face. Ayato takes a few steps towards you with a smiling facade. Your heart stutters as you recall how he threatened to torture and kill you.

You blink in surprise as Ayato plucks Ayaka's fan out of your hands.

"I believe you Y/N. You've truly proven my suspicions wrong. While you may still have secrets you'll not divulge, I'll place my trust in you as the creator's oracle."

Holy shit, you actually managed to make the Ayato Kamisato believe your scam. You can't stop the beaming smile that overtakes your face.

Ayato watches you with clear blue eyes. That smile on your face makes him want to see it even closer but he refrains himself from doing anything inappropriate. Yes, even the sight of your happy smile makes him as excited as your mischievous one does.

Ayato places something in your hands and cups your hands around it. The item is a fan, specifically Ayato's fan judging by the pattern. Both sides of it has his signature theme but one side also has the Kamisato crest clear as day.

You look up at him and tilt your head in confusion. He taps your nose and gives a simple answer.

"I believe my fan suits you better."

Your jaw drops at his blatant flirting. Never ever has someone tried to use flirtatious tactics to make you lose your composure.

But instead of questioning you he smiles wider at your shock and turns around. He starts walking down the stairs and calls out to you.

"Are you going to stand there catching crystalflies all day or are you coming?"

You snap your mouth shut with a blush and follow after him. Was he really flirting? Was it just a compliment? You decide to shake it off for now.

"With you fully proven as a oracle, I must apologize Y/N. I lacked certain courtesy while you were staying in the estate. I do hope you understand why I gave you such a strict test."

The Sakura petals gently sway in the wind as you walk down together. He takes your silence as permission to continue.

"Once we get back I'll arrange for the best ship to take you to Liyue. The ship I have in mind will be in Ritou tomorrow so I would like you to stay at the estate tonight as well. Of course you'll get lunch as soon as we get back and you'll be served dinner tonight. Feel free to ask any of the servants for whatever you need."

Your mind begins to be flooded with the types of food you can eat. The breakfast you ate was delicious and the bed was like sleeping on a cloud-

Oh. You are not going through that again.

"I'm not so sure I would like to sleep at the estate again. I don't want to be woken up in the middle of the night again by Sayu spying on me. The last thing I want to be is sleep deprived on a boat."

"You're completely right about that Y/N, I'm sorry. That was more than not performing certain platitudes, I crossed a boundary that you did not deserved to be breeched. I understand if you would rather have me pay a hotel for you in Ritou but I would be grateful if you could give the Kamisato estate another chance."

Ayato isn't smiling as he says this. He's serious and looks a little ashamed of himself too. A small part of you wants to keep jabbing the opening Ayato revealed and accept the offer to sleep in Ritou. But the sight of him looking down at you with unsure eyes makes your heart ache.

A familiar desire rises in you. The same one that has always ate away your heart for all the lying, cheating, and deceit you pulled on innocent people.

Besides, you were really expecting him to hit back with something like 'If you didn't hide your face then I would never have felt the need to send Sayu.' Yet what you got was a sincere apology instead.

Your silence unnerves him and he turns his face away with the faintest hint of pink on his ears. That's all it takes for you to give in.

You stop at the Sakura Bough and stop Ayato by tugging his long sleeve.

Perhaps you were dumb or foolish for giving in like this. Maybe this was all a trick of his to get more information on you tonight. Or even another chance for Sayu to remove your mask.

Even so, you didn't want to relive your old life again. Your old life where all you had was your wit, quick thinking, and a cold corpse of the only one dear to you. You wanted to trust again and that could only be done by taking a leap of faith.

If this really is a trap then you'll deal with the fall out one way or another, you've always had.

"Thank you for the apology Ayato. To a certain extent I can understand why you had the Shuumatsuban watch over me. But waking up to being touched without my consent is still troubling."

You clench his fan closed as you stare directly at him. Deep blue eyes that seem as vast as the ocean pull you in.

"But just as you're taking a risk in trusting me despite my obvious secrecy, I want to extend that same trust to you. I'll sleep in the estate again tonight."

If you hadn't been paying attention to his body language, you would have missed how tension left him in a very subtle way.

"Now, enough with the mind games we should go to the estate quickly. I'm sure your workload is almost as heavy as me at this point."

Ayato chuckles at how you dismiss the heavy conversation with ease. Swiftly he carries you again and with your hair so close to him, he can smell the sakura petals that linger on you.

The journey back to the estate is filled with more banter after you asked him the age old question on whether water is wet. Spoiler alert he threatened to let the electrograna drag you into the air if you didn't stop asking stupid questions.

Finally landing on the boulder that you hit the first time. Ayato puts you down and tells you. "Careful there Y/N, I don't want you falling again."

"Ayato, I swear to Celestia. If you don't stop bugging me about that I will steal your boba."

"I'd like to see you try."

You're tempted to flip him off but decide against it as the estate comes into view. Thoma is standing outside waiting for you both. Surprisingly enough Ayaka is there too.

You know Ayato is still capable of torturing and killing you but you still feel sad that the journey is over. Realistically you know that even if you trusted Ayato fully, adventures like this would probably never happen again. He's the head of the Yashiro Commission after all.

Thoma smiles when he spots you both, Ayaka and him meet you halfway. Ayato gives Ayaka her fan back and gives a simple summary of how it went.

"The journey to the shrine went smoothly and I'm sure you saw them teleport. I will be arranging a boat for them to leave tomorrow. They've graciously agreed to stay here another night despite our previous hostility."

"I understand. Y/N, thank you for giving the Kamisato Clan another chance. Especially considering how I treated you last night. I am truly sorry for my behavior."

Ayaka hides part of her face with her fan as she speaks. You aren't sure if you should apologize for purposefully riling Ayaka up or not but you nod anyway.

Thoma claps his hands with a smile to disperse the oncoming awkwardness. "With everything cleared up, why don't we all head inside now? Y/N hasn't ate anything since breakfast and my lady has a meeting with other parties. My lord as you're no doubt aware, many things require your attention."

Ayaka and Ayato sigh in unison. You feel a little bad that while you'll be enjoy lunch they'll be working. Giving them both a pat on the back, you speak encouragingly.

"Don't look so glum Lady Kamisato. The faster you finish work, the sooner you can enjoy things you like. And Ayato while your workload isn't something I envy, I do hope you enjoyed our little adventure as a break from your usual work."

They both seem to perk up at your words. You aren't completely sure why since you said pretty normal words of encouragement. Maybe since it felt like the creator was speaking through you?

You weren't completely wrong but you weren't right either. Ayaka was looking forward to finishing her work to speak more to you. She wanted to make sure you and the creator didn't have a bad view of her. Ayato on the other hand was more happy that you seemed to have enjoyed the journey as much as he did.

Thoma is quick to grab your hand and pull you towards the estate. He smiles and begins chatting with you as people swarm Ayaka and Ayato.

"You must be hungry after that hike. I made some lunch, my signature miso soup."

"That sounds delicious Thoma, thank you so much!" Your excitement is clear in your voice as you follow him inside.

Inside the room he led you to is two bowls of his signature dish. You begin eating making sure to imprint the taste into your brain. You didn't know when you would be eating like this in Liyue.

Probably never but you would rather do that then have Ei a constant threat.

Thoma eats across from you as he talks with you. The conversation is light and entertaining as you ask him strange questions like:

"So what's the deal with Taroumaru? Like he's a badass Shiba Inu who worked for the Shuumatsuban before retiring as the owner of the Komore Teahouse. How did he become a member of the Shuumatsuban? Who sold him the Teahouse? Who even wrote up the contracts that he used for his employees?"

Thoma stops eating as he thinks. "I can't really tell you much about that. I guess the only 'safe' information I can tell you is that my lord was the one who helped Taroumaru with all that."

"What makes that information 'safe'?"

"If I tell you anymore information there is a very large chance that you may get assassinated."

You nod in understanding, and decide to drop that particular subject. Lunch is soon over and Thoma leaves to fulfill his duties, leaving you alone in your room. But that's fine, you have your own things to test.

Taking the book you were pretending to read that morning, you open it up as you sit on the bed. The cover is in a language you can't understand.

Genshin has it's own language and you've always headcanoned that Paimon was the one who translated it for the traveler. A lot of the stuff in Genshin was in ineligible scribbles if they weren't important.

Now that you were here in the flesh, you can see the letters clearer. But it was useless since you didn't recognize the language at all. You never got to finish your schooling in your world either.

Thankfully Genshin was set in a time where most transactions are done by talking. But that doesn't mean reading wouldn't be useful either.

It is strange how when using the screen it automatically translates it while you in real life cannot. You stare at the cover of the book harder hoping that a new screen will open and automatically translate the cover. That of course doesn't happen.

Could you even learn a whole new language while traveling? How would you even learn if nobody knew what language you read in? Plus you can't ask anyone in the Kamisato estate since you were fake reading this book for a good portion of the morning while eavesdropping.

As you continue brainstorming you let your fingers trace the words on the cover. You feel it start to move and watch in fascination as the characters twist and move to spell the book cover in your language.

"Treasured Tales of the Chouken Shinkageuchi" is the name of the book. You remember reading it in the archive. To think that you were using a book about the Electro Archon to help you get away from said Electro Archon.

You open the book and touch the letters on the first page. Just like the cover, all the letters changed into your native language. What a useful feature, even if you have to touch every sign and book from now on, it was well worth it.

In fact this reminded you of how the wind blew Thoma and Ayaka's conversation to you while blocking out the other sounds. And how the ground seemed to shake only you when Ayato was coming closer to your room. Perhaps this was powers you got from being the creator? Or could it be Teyvat itself helping you?

You don't get much more time to stew the possibilities as someone knocks on your door. You open it expecting it to be a worker tasked with giving you dinner. Instead it's Ayaka with a small smile.

"I hope I didn't come at a bad time Y/N. I wanted to ask if you would like to have dinner with me. Brother and Thoma unfortunately can't join due to work. If my offer is uncomfortable for you then you can reject it with no problem."

You're starting understand why Ayaka seemed to have changed her tune. Not that you blame or think less of her due to it. This 'worship the creator' thing is deeply imbedded in Teyvat as a whole.

"That sounds great Lady Kamisato, I would love to eat with you." Ayaka relaxes at your answer, you can already tell what she'll be asking you at dinner.

"Please call me Ayaka." She says with a smile as she leads you down the hallway. You enter a clean dining room that already has food set down on the table. You let Ayaka take a seat first before choosing the spot across from her.

It's quiet at first with workers putting portions of the food on each of the plates. It's a weird feeling to be served outside of a restaurant. Many of the dishes that you saw in the game were on the table looking just as delicious as before.

They also tasted amazing as you and Ayaka ate in silence. Soba, unagi meat, sushi, and other soups left you eager for more. Ayaka sets down her chopsticks and speaks quietly.

"I understand that this may be presumptuous of me to ask but I have to. Why am I the only one in the Kamisato clan to not be awakened?"

You finish chewing the food in your mouth before responding in a neutral voice. "What kind of answer are you looking for? A emotional answer with me telling you the creators thoughts and reasons on why they haven't awakened you? Or a factual reason that is out of everyone's control, including the creator's?"

You continue eating as Ayaka looks down while thinking about what you said. As her silence stretches on you audibly sigh and speak.

"Look Ayaka, if you want me to give you a real answer you'll need to tell me why you want to know. Are you feeling insecure as the only Kamisato left out? Are you envious of everyone else who was awakened? I mean even the Electro Archon and the head of the Narukami Shrine haven't been awakened yet. What are you hoping to see happen or feel, when or if you are awakened?"

You give Ayaka a moment to think before going back to eating. It was a shame really, you had hoped to bond in some way with the Shirasagi Himegimi while you were still here. But it seemed that no matter what kind of setting you were in with her, you two seemed to be on opposite sides of each other.

The sound of twinkling ice falling onto the table startle you. You stop eating and look up to see what ice was falling. For a second you even though that Ayaka was going to use her cryo to threaten you again.

Yet instead of seeing a raging snowstorm, you saw small tears leave Ayaka's eyes and freeze before hitting the table. She was crying, shit you made her cry. You were crap, complete and utter crap.

Leaving your spot in a hurry you move to her side and sit next to her. You don't touch her in case that's too personal as she tries to wipe away the tears. The tears only fall faster and faster while you are helplessly watching.

"I'm *hick* sorry. You sh-shouldn't have to s-see me like this."

Ayaka's whole problem was struggling with speaking her mind and having to keep up a perfect appearance in front of everyone. You feel like a fool for not realizing how your words only aggravated her insecurities.

"Don't apologize for something like that. I'm sorry for pushing you so hard with all my questions. Not my best words, I'll be the first to admit that."

It's true. In trying to fight back against Ayato and defend yourself, you've used Ayaka without care. You wouldn't change your decisions since your life was on the line but you can't help but feel the need to make her feel better too.

Slowly you place your hands on hers that are covering her eyes. You keep them there for a moment giving Ayaka more than enough time to reject you. With no movement from her, you slowly pull her hands off her face to see her clearly.

Her eyes are red-rimmed and tears are slowly sliding down her face before becoming ice once they fall off. She's looking away from you before glancing at you quickly.

"Ayaka, I never meant to make you feel bad or ashamed for any feelings you might have. Envy, jealousy, isolation, or any other emotion are completely normal to feel in your situation."

Your sincere words and apologetic smile seem to comfort Ayaka as the tears slow to a stop. She doesn't move her hands out of your grasp as she replies with a hoarse voice.

"You are right though. I do feel insecure and envious of my brother and Thoma. I had hope after Ayato was awakened that I would soon be too. Yet it never came and I watched more and more acolytes awaken too. People spoke more and rumors spread."

She bites back a sniffle as her feelings and words flow out with a frosty tone.

"Things like 'She isn't a good enough worshipper' or 'poor Ayaka is the only exception'. It was only when brother stepped in and stopped the rumors from festering or growing that it stopped but that doesn't make them stop thinking about it. The pitying looks, side eyes, and even mocking stares were destroying my life's work in keeping a good image of the Kamisato Clan. The image of perfection that I worked towards was crumbling beneath my feet."

She breaths heavily as she speaks with despair filled love and adoration.

"I could never blame the creator for that. I never needed to know why they couldn't or even refused to awaken me. They are perfect and if I wasn't the problem then people would think the creator is. I would never allow that sort of perception of them. That's why I have never fought against the rumors, this is the only way I can show my love for them without being awakened outside of normal worship."

Her words blow you away. You never considered how being awakened could have this much effect. Nor did you understand how high Ayaka herself placed you as the creator. To think that she would rather her image of perfection and title of Shirasagi Himegimi be tarnished than let your own perfection be questioned. You aren't perfect nor will you ever call yourself perfect but the devotion she shows touches your heart.

"Ayaka, know that I speak as both myself and the creator right now. That image of perfection you feel the need to upkeep is due to your upbringing from wanting to help Ayato right? Just as your brother was recognized, not for his title or deeds but for the love and care he showed for you. You too will be recognized, perhaps in a way that neither you nor anyone else will realize. But know that you are loved and appreciated for the sacrifices you have made."

You smile and hug her tightly. Ayaka hugs back as she grips the back of your clothes. She's crying harder than before and it leaves cold wet spots on you but it goes ignored.

You never had the income to pull and whale for all the characters. Ayaka wasn't very high on your list of desired characters and her banners came at the moments where you had little to no primogems. But you wanted to now, you probably would never build her but if simply awakening her would stop her problems then you'll happily do so.

Ayaka seems to calm down in your arms and after a while she pulls away with a flushed face. The embarrassment of how she acted around you seems to finally dawn on her. All she could fully remember was the sweet words that left your mouth and the warmth of your arms around her.

On the other hand, you were too busy despairing over the now cold food to truly notice the dazed look on her face. She stands up in a hurry making your head snap up to watch as she hurriedly leaves the room.

You sit there confused by her sudden exit before moving back to your spot. Determinedly you begin eating your cold food. Cold or not, delicious food was delicious food. If you could eat expired, dumpster and even raw food then some cold food would be fine.

The moment you finished eating, Ayaka came back holding a small tray with a single plate on it. She's completely composed again but she still avoids your curious eyes as she sits down.

"My performance just then wasn't what I should have showed you considering that you are a guest. I apologize for that. Please have some Sakura Mochi I made as a apology."

She sets the plate down and uses her fan to hide her face. You chuckle and bring the plate closer to you. It's her signature dish and you had never tried mochi before.

"Thank you Ayaka and like I said, don't apologize for expressing normal emotions."

She smiles quietly and watches you cut a big piece of it. She gives you a worried look as you put the whole piece in your mouth. It's sweet and tasty but it's also very sticky. She tries to suppress her giggles as she watches you struggle to chew and swallow it.

"Have you ever eaten mochi before?"

You can't even open your mouth to answer and simply shake your head no. You were choking on a delicious piece of mochi while Ayaka laughs at you. A death like this wouldn't be all that bad.

Thankfully you manage to swallow it and sigh in relief.

"Even though I nearly died choking on this mochi, I absolutely love it. If you were expecting to have a piece of your own creation then I have bad news for you."

You say with a teasing tone before cutting a smaller piece and eating it. This time with no choking in between. She only smiles wider behind her fan.

You finish the mochi and the servants come in and take the dishes back to the kitchen. You get up and Ayaka beckons you to follow her to lead you back to your room.

"I know that you don't really need to know, but I think closure is important." Ayaka gives you a questioning glance and you take that as a sign to continue.

"While in the other world, the creator has limited power to awaken acolytes. Some acolytes are able to be awakened at any time, while others only have a certain time frame. In fact even luck has a huge factor in this too. The creator hasn't awakened you, not because they dislike you or something. But rather because your constellation for awakening happens to come at the worst moments."

You give her a soft smile. "You're just really unlucky but I have a feeling your luck will turn around soon."

Ayaka doesn't answer and you don't expect her to. When you get to your room, you open the door and are about to step inside. She places her hand on your shoulder making you look back at her.

"You're right, that does make me feel better." Her answer is quiet and soft just like her smile. Yet it's beautiful all the same.

She releases you and walks away. You go back inside your room and hope that the next one-on-one conversation you have with her won't have dramatic emotional moments. But you have a feeling that those moments were needed for both of you.

The sunset makes your room bathe in a soft glow as you read some books from the shelf that weren't in the game archive. It's been a few hours since dinner and you were trying to enjoy the last hours you have until tomorrow where you'll stuck on a boat for who knows how long.

A knock the door surprises you and it's Thoma who stands outside smiling at you. Most of his armor and accessories he usually wears are gone which makes him look good, just a bit unfamiliar.

"Y/N! Glad to see you're still awake. My lord and I have finished up work and he wanted to invite you to hotpot with us. My lady will also be there. Are you up for it?"

Your social battery was completely drained at this point but the way Thoma was staring at you with such excitement made you nod. He beams and grabs your hand.

"Have you ever played hotpot before? It's really fun and we have the dishes already you just need to choose which one you want to put in."

"I know the premise of it but I've never done it myself. If I put something disgusting in it, can you help me make sure Ayato is the one who eats it? I wanna see his reaction to it."

Thoma laughs at your mischievous smile. He pulls you down another hallway past one of the few rooms that has lights on.

"Sounds great to me, I'll think of it as payback for all the strange stuff he's made me eat in the past."

"Didn't he try to make you eat some strange flavored Boba before?"

"Ah, don't remind me. I drank it all trying not to waste food. I was sick for the rest of the day."

"Or maybe you're just competitive. I mean you did eat all the weird stuff in the hotpot you played with Ayaka and the traveler."

Thoma's hand tightens around yours for a moment before his grip goes back to normal. You take note at how you passed that same lit up room again.

"Did the creator show you that? You aren't completely wrong but I'm not that competitive."

"Oh, so you just like eating strange stuff? Never guessed you were the type Thoma."

Your teasing words made him shush you playfully. You've been walking for at least 10 minutes, more than enough time to arrive at the room. You stop walking making Thoma stop and look back at you. Just as you're opening your mouth to speak, the door to that room you had your eye on opens.

"How many times were you going to walk past the room Thoma. Did you get lost or something?" Ayato says with a smile. He's wearing a dark blue yukata or was it a kimono? That had a white obi and gold engraved patterns.

A really good look on him and you can see Ayaka peaking out behind him. She has her hair loose again and she's wearing a white kimono and a steel blue obi. The winding gold sakuras that decorate her kimono suits her.

"Sorry my lord, I was so caught up in the conversation that I kept walking." Thoma speaks with a sheepish smile. Ayato slides the door open wider letting you and Thoma in.

Ayato and Ayaka go back to their seats across each other. Thoma is busy bringing the ingredients to the wide table to sit yet leaving you with the decision.

Do you sit next to Ayaka or Ayato?

To kill time you close the door and walk slowly to the table. The decision is made for you as Ayato pats the spot next to him and tells you.

"Sit here Y/N, you probably haven't played hotpot before, right? We'll be playing a hotpot game too so I'll explain it."

Just as you are about to sit down, Ayaka pipes up.

"Then shouldn't Y/N sit next to me instead? Me and Thoma are the only ones who played it before with the traveler. So it would better for me to explain."

"That may be true but I was hoping to add something new to the game that would require Y/N to be in the spot next to me."

You sit down before they can go on any longer. Ayato smiles at you while Ayaka looks away with what you think is a pout. Thoma comes back with a box of ingredients. He sets it down before siting down across from you and next to Ayaka.

Ayato begins explaining as the broth is finishes heating up.

"The game goes like this. We all put some ingredients into it and we all take turns tasting it and guessing who put it in. The ingredients in the box are up for everyone to pick but if one of us already have a ingredient then they can use that instead. Every time someone is right they get a point. I was hoping we could play in teams since Ayaka and Thoma have already played before."

"Wouldn't it be better for Y/N to pair up with me and you with my lady so that it's more fair?" Thoma says which makes Ayaka speak up.

"Then Y/N can also choose to pair up with me instead of either of you."

"Then Y/N, who do you choose to be your partner?" Ayato asks you with a smile that makes you feel a bit nervous. You look at all their expectant faces as you contemplate your choice.

Yeah, you'll just leave it up to chance.

Pointing at Thoma you start rhyming as you point at them all with each word.

"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe."

They look at you confused by your strange words and actions.

"Catch a tiger by the toe."

Ayato seems to understand and sits back with a smile. This prompts Thoma and Ayaka to relax as they continue watching you.

"If he yells, let him go."

"Eeny, meeny, miny, moe!"

Your fingers stops and it's pointing at Thoma.

"Luck and probably math has chosen. Thoma is my partner, I hope ya'll are ready to lose."

Ayato and Ayaka take the decision with no hard feelings just like you hoped. Instead they send each other a firm glance before turning back to you and Thoma.

"We'll just have to see Y/N. Thoma may be up for eating strange things but you may not be able to." Ayaka says as she smiles at you.

"I'll be fine, I mean how bad can it be?" It wouldn't be a good decision to let them know just what kind of food you used to eat to not starve.

"You'd be surprised how things can change taste in hotpot. Just make sure not to almost choke this time." She finishes with a giggle. Ayato smiles at you in amusement as Thoma laughs.

"I don't know if I'm just a fun target or if you and Ayato are that similar. I made one mistake using the electrograna and he never let me live it down the whole journey."

You pick your ingredients; sea ganoderma, matsutake, eel meat, and fluorescent fungus. Hopefully you won't make anyone sick with this and you hide them in your box under the table.

"I believe it's your inability to behave normally that makes us pick on you so much. Who even asks if a vision can make you sweat more?"

Thoma and Ayaka laugh while you stick your tongue out at Ayato. You all turn around for one of the late night servants to put all the chosen ingredients in. With no body able to witness him, he sticks his tongue out at you back.

You give a mock shocked gasp and pay very close attention to the boba the servant hands to Ayato before they leave. You all turn back to the table and take turns cooking the pot full of strange choices.

"I'm starting to think this hotpot is a danger hazard."

"It probably taste better than it looks Y/N." Thoma says comfortingly.

"Are you lying to make me feel better?"

"Yes." You laugh at his honest reply before Ayaka uses her chopsticks to check the hotpot.

"Y/N, tell me how does your back feel?" Ayato asks innocently. You smile at him before responding.

"It's perfectly fine, never been better. Why do you ask Ayato?" You know exactly why but you're just waiting for him to say it. Your hand twitches in anticipation.

"I just wanted to check since you hit the boulder so harshly when that electrograna dragged you."

Ayaka and Thoma give you concerned looks and you're quick to reassure them.

"I'm fine, really, no bruises or cuts. But Ayato is about to be one boba short!" You say before reaching over quickly to snatch the boba out of his hand.

Ayato is a step ahead of you and keeps his boba in his other hand farther from you. At this point you're leaning on him trying to reach the damn boba as he smirks at you.

"What's wrong Y/N? Can't reach?"

"You are so lucky you changed your clothes or else I would have used those long ass sleeves to drag your hand down."

You give up and sit properly in your seat as you glare at his boba. Ayato simply sips it loudly to further annoy you.

"The hotpot is done, so who'll go first?" Thoma asks as he looks up from the pot. You immediately raise your hand, you did not want to get stuck eating something bad.

"I'll taste the pot of doom first." Ayaka hands the chopsticks to you with a amused smile. You hold the chopsticks with a sense of resignation.

You don't know how to use them. All this time, they had given you a choice between chopsticks and other utensils.

"Sorry but I can't use these. I can barely handle a fork and knife." One of the guys snorts as you hand it back to Ayaka. Giving a glare at both of them who look away innocently, you use a different utensil and scoop out a piece that doesn't look poisonous.

The whitish soft food is put into your mouth. It taste sweet and only a little soggy. You chew it a bit before realizing what it could be.

"This kind of taste like tofu. I'm gonna guess Thoma put this in because we ate miso soup for lunch."

"Looks like my partner knows me well. That's right Y/N, I put it there." Thoma high-fives you as you swallow the tofu.

"That's one point for you two but now it's my turn." Ayaka grabs a piece of food and eats it. Her face scrunches up in surprise. You laugh at her expression and the game goes on.

Points were gained and Thoma almost always guessed each weird ingredient as Ayato's. He was at least 80% right. It's on one of Ayato's turn that he ate something green.

As Ayato continued trying to swallow it as Thoma laughed at him, you slipped your arm behind his back. You blindly groped the floor next to him for the boba before the plastic bottle was in your hand.

You pulled it back victorious and drank from it. It tasted like strawberry milk boba, refreshing and sweet. You kept the straw in your mouth as Ayato spoke.

"Who put sea ganoderma into the hotpot? It didn't taste bad but the texture is awful."

You only smile as you keep slowly sipping the Boba. For some reason Thoma and Ayaka are giving you a look. Ayato finally looks you and covers his mouth with his sleeve.

"You do know I already drank from that, right?"

No, no you didn't but damn it you weren't losing.

"And you do know I threatened your boba right? It's pretty good so I think I'm keeping this now."

He only laughs at your childishness and looks away. You can't see how his face becomes a soft pink at your actions.

"I'm gonna guess Ayaka put it in. It's too tame to be Thoma's and Y/N can only choose from the box." Ayaka shakes her head no and you raise your hand.

"It was actually me this time. I found it all the way at the bottom of the box. The look on your face was funny but I'm glad it wasn't poisonous."

"C'mon Y/N I wouldn't give you a box with potential poisonous ingredients. But I am glad you found all the hidden gems I snuck in." Thoma cheerfully adds. Something about the way he's speaking is off, the same could be said for Ayaka with how she's refusing to look at Ayato.

You shrug it off and the game continues on. That weird tension slowly goes away leaving the atmosphere pleasant and fun. At the end of it, you and Thoma won the game. You felt bad that he was the one who ate some of the strangest ones.

Thoma was sprawled out on your lap as you rubbed his back. Ayaka was dozing off on your shoulder while Ayato cleaned up the remaining mess. You weren't sure how you got into this position but it was nice.

Ayato smiled softly as he saw you trying to keep Thoma awake. He shakes Thoma and brings him to sit up.

"Thoma, Ayaka fell asleep, please bring her to bed while I lead Y/N back to their room."

Thoma is about to say something but the look Ayato gives him backs him hold his tongue and nod his head. You aren't able to understand but it seems Ayato wants to talk to you in private.

Thoma stands up and pats your head as a 'thank you'. He carefully carries Ayaka and leaves the room. Ayato offers you his hand and you accept the help.

He doesn't let go of your hand as he leads you out of the room and down the halls. It's quiet with the moon as your only light source. Ayato keeps glancing at you while smiling a little sadly.

You get to your room and before either of you can say a goodbye you fumble with something in your pocket before taking it out. It's Ayato's fan, you hold it out to him.

"I almost forgot to give this back to you. I don't want to forget and accidentally take it with me. It's very pretty so it must be just as expansive."

Ayato shakes his head and pushes it back to you.

"Keep it. This isn't just a gift, this is a symbol of my trust in you as a oracle. The Kamisato crest will serve as proof that the Kamisato clan backs you up."

You accept it with mixed emotions. Out of everything that you've lied about, your status as a oracle was definitely the most profound one. Yes, you kept up and made it more believable to save your life but what would happen if they found out? Believing and trusting were different and accepting this fan would mean accepting whatever punishment they would subject you to for breaking their trust.

"Thank you Ayato. It's a beautiful fan, I'll be sure to utilize it to solidify my oracle position. You accept the intricate beautiful fan with a graceful smile.

He turns to leave before stopping and turning back to you. "And Sayu will be paying you a visit soon. So please don't sleep just yet."

A little confused you nod and wave goodbye to Ayato who returns it with a soft smile. When you close the door, his eyes dull a bit as he remembers how far away you'll be tomorrow. Not for the first time he curses the vast ocean that will separate you both.

You flop on the bed and sigh. The bed seems to envelope you as the smell of sakura seeps in through the window. For a few seconds you doze off before the sound of something on the window sill startles you awake.

Mujina ears are the first thing you notice as Sayu sits on the window sill with a bag next to her. You sit up and watch as she moves to kneel in front of you.

"I hope I'm not interrupting you Y/N. Wait should I address you formally?" Sayu's signature sleepy voice is quiet as the wind blows gently.

"Nah just call me Y/N and speak to ne normally. I'm not a noble or someone important."

"The creator is important and by extension you are too Y/N. Please forgive my rudeness and suspicion I treated you last night. Even though I was under Lord Kamisato's orders, I was still wrong."

You can basically see how the mujina ears and tail drop as she speaks. You feel very tempted to reach out and pet her, but you really don't want to be bitten.

"I also wanted to thank you for not mentioning how I tried to take off your mask. My lord never requested it and if he found out I would be stuck with even more work as punishment."

So Ayato never ordered Sayu to take off your mask. Then that leaves the question.

"Then why did you try to remove it?"

Sayu gets up from her kneeling position to look up at you. Her eyes though tired are firm as she speaks.

"The creator is one of the few people that I have left in my life. When you came in and Thoma claimed you were a oracle, I was pretty mad. Someone claiming to be the creator's oracle is really arrogant. You were even more dubious with that mask. When I was sent to get information on you and couldn't find anything I just felt worse. That's why I decided to use the opportunity I had to see your true identity."

That's right, it's implied that her master left her in some way and since people worshipped you so much, she ended up relying on you to fill the hole her master left. It's hard to lose the only parental figure in someone's life, you've gone through it too. But it wasn't healthy to fixate on you or growing taller.

"Thank you for apologizing Sayu, I don't hold it against you. But even if I was someone suspicious please don't do that again, to anyone really. I'm keeping this mask on for a reason and for anyone not preapproved to see my face would mean drastic events would occur."

Sayu's eyes widen when you mention drastic events. It wasn't the best move to imply that but you needed to scare her. You didn't have the time to try and ease her off the devoted worshipper train.

Instead you change the topic to something else. Pointing at the bag on the window sill you ask what it is. Sayu grabs it and carries it to you. It's a cute sight seeing the small ninja carry a bag that's as big as her.

"This is a gift from my lord and myself. I hope you like them. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm actually gonna sleep tonight instead of wasting time watching you." Her words come out as a sleepy mumble before she uses her Yoohoo art to leave.

You open the bag to find a ton of clothes inside. Formal, pajamas, casual, and even some tougher clothes that seem to be built with resistance. All high quality and expansive.

You change into the pajamas to find it fitting you perfectly. You remember how Sayu was touching you, she must have been measuring you. Maybe the original reason she was doing that was to get a body bag for you since they were so sure you were a fake.

As you put the other clothes inside your bag, you continue thinking on the topic. They wouldn't need a body bag for you since Thoma is more than capable of burning dead bodies. But maybe they were worried that Thoma would refuse to since he was the one who brought you.

You lay down on the bed and wonder how in the world did you get so comfortable imagining your death. Thinking yourself as the creator with acolytes willing to die for you, still feels unreal. But the way the bed cradles your tired body is too tempting to continue debating the morality or logistics of your situation. Your eyes close and you fall into a deep slumber.

Finally done with this monster of a chapter. Was it too long? If you thought it was then just let me know and next time I'll cut it in half. It was really fun to write. In my outline I wrote that Ayaka and reader would get along well. But by the time I got to the scene, everything changed. None of those dramatic emotional burst were supposed to happen. And Thoma? His yandereness showing every so often was completely unplanned. I really enjoy this kinda characterization for Ayato. I hated him as I wrote him in the beginning and loved him by the end of the chapter. I hope you all liked how the teleport waypoints were used! Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt If you are in italics that means I couldn't tag you! Usually you'll need to check your settings to fix that.

[xxsidneywritesxx]

Hcs for Hashira men confessing!

Includes Tengen, Tomioka, Sanemi, Rengoku, Gyomei, and Muichiro

Warnings: Minor swearing! Minors MAY interact with this post, but hopefully only for Muichiro being as he is a minor <3 Reader is set as a female for these hcs!

This man already has three wives...he's pretty dang experienced in romance.

You're a hashira at the same time he is, and he admires how you dress. Your hair is also quite "flashy" to him.

"Hey, Y/n...looking flamboyant today. Nice."

"Oh....thanks Tenge-"

"No problem!"

If you have long hair, there's a chance he might want to style it for you. He's not a braiding expert like Kanroji, but he has three wives, so he's gotta know some good stuff in that department, right?

He admires you from afar for a bit before wanting to go on missions with you and hang out.

He'll go to his wives for help, and when he says you could possibly become love interest number four, instead of being jealous, they're ecstatic because they like you too.

So they scheme up a plan .

While you're out on a mission, Hinatsuru takes a...rather large rock, shoving it out in front of you while you were chatting with Tengen.

You're clumsy here so you don't notice it.

You trip, about to hit the ground WHEN

Ninja man catches you HAHA! He thinks he's so flashy and brags about it after that. He confessed to you while holding you.

"Y/n...can I be real with you?"

"Sure, but can you put me down first?"

"I...love you, Y/n, and so do my wives."

Your heartbeat pulses fast, and you smile. "I love you guys too...now put me down."

"No."

Giyu is stoic, quiet around the other pillars.

This doesn't change when you enter the scene...as his tsuguko. You're not much younger than him, maybe a year, tops.

While he does help you train, he keeps that same demeanor at the beginning of your mentorship.

He even has to get close to you to help you swing your sword at times, which for some damn reason...

It makes your heart beat fast??

No, there's no way you could-

Oh, yes there is.

After a few months or so of training with Tomioka, he seems to lighten up with you. He'll talk more frequently, asking you how your day was and what you were up to.

You'll definitely notice that he's warmer. But when out with the other hashira, his demeanor goes back to silence and staring.

You get curious, so you set him down and ask about it.

"Tomioka, what's been up with you? I mean, the changes aren't bad, but I wanna know why you've been acting so...social? Lately?"

He's blankly staring at you, looking at the floor, his haori, and then back at you.

"I thought you'd like it...if I talked more...because...I like you, I guess."

Hah. Awkward boi let's be honest.

You're another hashira in this hc.

You're very bubbly and talkative, kind of like Mitsuri. Of course, in the beginning, Shinazugawa Sanemi finds this annoying.

He'll shoo you away with every chance he gets.

It's only when you stop by his estate with a plate of ohagi for his birthday that his opinion of you slowly begins to shift.

You're still annoying as fuck in his eyes...but maybe you were tolerable?

It would take a few days of him ignoring you for you to storm into his estate, grab him by the collar, and scream at him.

Jk jk he'd fucking kill you

You'd actually walk into his estate and demand to hear what's up with him.

He'd attempt shooing you of course, but you're not gonna take no for an answer, are ya?

Didn't think so.

That's when HE grabs YOU by the collar, shoves you against the wall, and tenderly presses a kiss to your lips. He couldn't find the words to confess to you, so he used his actions. And they worked, becaue you kissed back, caressing his white, fluffy hair softly.

Rengoku would be straightforward with his feelings. He won't push you away, or ignore you, to figure out his heart because he's so in sync with his feelings that he doesn't need a second opinion or thought.

You'd be just another slayer, part of the kamaboko squad with Tanjiro and his pals, but you're the eldest, being around 19.

He'd invite you to have a picnic with him, classic, right?

You'd obviously be honored...I mean, a hashira invited you to eat with him!! What an honor!!

Not to mention he's a cutie

You meet up with him, it's around 12pm, he's there earliy, you're a little late.

"Ah! Y/n! Good morning!"

"...it's noon-"

"I know !! Good afternoon!!"

*Facepalms*

He would talk to you about your missions, what you've been up to, and one more question...

" I know we sincerely just formally met !! But you are gorgeous !! Would you like to be my girlfriend ?!"

You'd chuckle, covering your blushing face. Of course you're gonna say yes.

We're gonna keep Himejima's short n' simple.

You are a hashira, and you first met him at a meeting with the master.

His strength impressed you, and your friendliness intrigued him.

You talked a lot, being as you were both quite strong and were only called on extremely high ranked missions.

You both fell in love and told each other you liked the other in his estate.

Also, a plus, hugs with him are ALWAYS comfy.

You're a minor. And so is he, so it fits !

He's younger than you, but if he ever hears the word 'seniority' come out of your mouth, best expect a cold-hearted scolding.

He confesses through his crow to you. He can't bring himself to do it in person.

He won't admit it but he fell head over heels. He'll just say he loves you. You know how he feels, though <3

{ Sorry Mui's and Gyomei's were short </3 I got a lil lazy- }

[mcmansionhell]

a fine selection of bonker facades from the DC suburbs

Howdy folks! In honor of Halloween, here are some of the scariest houses currently for sale in the ever-cursed suburbs of Washington, DC. It's been awhile since I checked in on this particular hotspot, and once more, it did not disappoint.

I'll just get this one out of the way. Long-time McMansion Hell-heads are well aware of this monster estate in Potomac, MD, once allegedly owned by a particular professional athlete who will not be named, because the house should suck on its own merit. The only nice thing I can say about this house is that the designers kept the materials and colors consistent, which adds some unity to what is, in reality, five turrets in a trench coat.

Some things, the economists tell us, are too big to fail. This is not one of them. Let's move on.

Many McMansions exist to mock the concept of architectural consistency and historical continuity. This is one of them. About every single type of expanded second-story window elaboration exists here: bay window, covered balcony, juliet balcony. None of them work. The house can't decide if its 19th century eclecticism or tony DC Georgian/Federal cocktail. The random cupola merely adds insult to injury.

I don't know where realtors learned how to do photoshop, but whoever taught them should have their Adobe licenses revoked. There's a certain type of McMansion I call a "hat house" - which is exactly what it sounds like. It's a house with multiple bays or masses and each has its own special hat. This is one of the most egregious examples because all of the hats are different shapes and scales. Not even the most Disney Theme Park pink sky and fairy lighting can mitigate the controlling aesthetic influence of hät.

No compilation of Bad Facades would be complete without at least one Frankentudor™. Rich people in America really like to harken back to the days of feudalism, yet uglier, more drab, and using materials mostly derived from petrochemicals. The lighting is not helping this house, which is about as gloomy, hulking, and bloated as they come.

I have some fondness for houses that derive new, inventive forms of being ugly. The spread eagle McMansion is one of them, two oblique wings with no real core. A corner lot specimen. This one is especially weird, with the quadruple portholes, the windowless bays, the mall foyer, and the hipped roof that's not quite clipped, complete with tacked on gables. Kind of neat, sad to say.

I know most of you won't agree, but I actually believe this is the worst McMansion of the set. The absolute banality of it, the out-of-proportion everything, the compound-like demeanor, the nonsensical spacing of the mind-numbingly identical windows. The most infuriating part is that whoever designed this had some kind of order, continuity, proportion in mind and just failed utterly at it, like Sideshow Bob stepping on all those rakes. I hate it!!!!

When rich people try to make overly-inflated temples to their dumb piles of money, it's deeply satisfying when they end up looking like this house, which is just a pile of roof and wall tacked on to the worst proportioned portico imaginable. Classic McMansion Hubris. Let us all laugh.

Now we're getting into the more eldritch horror part of the list. Some houses make me wonder if I have the same set of eyeballs and conceptions of what "a house" looks like as other people. This one is playing dress up games with foam stickers. It looks like Steve's shirt from Blues Clues. It abuses the prairie muntins, which is an insult to my chosen hometown of Chicago, Illinois. Bad house.

Not enough time is devoted on this blog to bad modernism, though it would be rather generous to call this house modern. It's more like postmodernism trying to remember what modernism looked like and tripping down a flight of stairs collecting random masses and windows on the way down. Houses like this give modern architecture a bad name. It's borderline libel. Also it looks like it was made out of cardboard.

This brings us to our final, and objectively worst house:

I don't even know what to say about this freak of architecture. I don't know how it came together or why. I don't know what it wants or even pretends to do. It is a horrorshow. Gables protruding from random places, stealth roof fragments, windows too small for the walls they're embedded in, a weird cathedral-like entrance, the mosquito-infested pond, the worst example of realtor sky I've ever seen, all of it is terrible. It's haunted. Trick or Treat, but without the treat.

Anyway, that does it for this installment. If you're curious about more McModern badness, this month's Patreon bonus post will be to your liking!

Happy Halloween and Día de Los Muertos!

If you like this post and want more like it, support McMansion Hell on Patreon for as little as $1/month for access to great bonus content including extra posts and livestreams.

Not into recurring payments? Try the tip jar, because media work is especially recession-vulnerable.

[helenazbmrskai]

Guide on how to not marry the Northern Duke [2/2] - End

Title [Guide on how to not marry the Northern Duke.]

Pairing [Northen Duke! Yoongi x Reincarnated! Reader]

Genre [Fantasy Romance, Reincarnation, World in a novel AU, smut, angst]

Summary [You might be a lady with a significant house backing you but Yoongi thinks he’s not lacking anything as a husband candidate. He could give you money, real estate, jewellery, dresses everything you wanted so why did you reject him so confidently? The Duke of the North is getting a stack of marriage proposals daily that could fuel the fire in the fireplace all day long in his office so why did YOU reject him again?]

Words [10,1k]

Warnings [harassment, mention of blood, mention of hunting animals, sexual content: oral sex, unprotected sex]

Rating [+18]

A/N: This is not perfect but I hope you guys will like the ending of this story.

Masterlist // part 1 // I don't do tag lists anymore I'm sorry!

As a quote “knight”, you wear your dress and accessories like armour on your way to the battlefield which is called idle chatting with the noble ladies. You feel like you got accustomed to your circumstances by now being in a new world in a stranger's body.

You completely merged yourself with Y/N. It gives you an advantage that some things come to you naturally but on the other hand, it’s scary because if you accept this as your reality then that means you’re stuck here forever. Don’t be mistaken after you died in your previous life and reincarnated this is something to be grateful for – this is your second chance at living. Even if you’re aware of all that you keep wondering if your family back there is ever missing you or if they are living well, or if your friends or coworkers think about you sometimes. It feels like you’re living a double life. The people around you have a conception of your personality they’ve seen you grow up with them but in the end – you’re not Y/N. If you think about that you feel miserable.

They don’t know you. They now Y/N.

Even if Y/N now is – you.

There’s only one person you can be truly yourself is surprisingly when you’re with Yoongi.

Can’t make much of an excuse today as you’ve avoided attending these events altogether. Avoiding Yoongi. There’s no fantasy romance novel without a hunting competition scene so you know these gatherings quite well. The men go out hunting and the person who gets the rarest animal as prey wins the competition. All this time women are dressing up and gossiping all day. You’re not too keen on joining them today but since you were personally invited you cannot refuse even if you wanted. The moment they set their eyes on you behind their fancy fans you know they are up to no good.

This is the time when the female lead is ridiculed and humiliated so why are you in this situation when you’re supposed to be the villain bullying people? They invite you to sit but their smiles tell you they’re not really happy to see you show up in their circles.

“It’s been a while Lady Y/N.” The first to speak is Duchess Hee; as far as you know, you’ve never talked before. You greeted each other in formal settings but that’s about it. Whilst her expression is controlled you could sense hostility from her. Even though you’re not going out much Y/N is still getting new enemies on top of the old ones – can you call this the buff of the villainess? You’re unsure how to assess the situation so you decided to grasp the atmosphere first and speak carefully for now.

“Yes Duchess Hee, have you been well?” You gracefully sit on the empty chair between two ladies who continuously glare at you. Y/N is a notorious troublemaker who disregards everyone under her status so the ladies seem surprised at how coordinated you are. You just wish things go well enough that no one tries to pull your hair today.

“Of course. I haven’t seen you much these days perhaps were you sick?” It’s obvious that she’s trying to mock you. Everyone knows that you were on probation by the order of the duke after the mishaps you created in the social circles.

You have no idea why she’s attacking you all of a sudden but you need to be smart about this.

The rule is that the one who gets angry first is the one who loses so you need to keep your cool no matter how they try to provoke you. If a reasonable amount of time passes then you can excuse yourself that you’re not feeling well and you can get out of here.

You need to hold out until then.

“No, I’ve been well thank you for asking. I’ve been reflecting on my actions during that time. If I caused trouble I hope the ladies could forgive me with a gracious heart.” Smooth. Some of them seem taken aback that you apologised so they are momentarily at loss of words. Some awkwardly laugh it off and some keep glaring. The duchess however keeps her eyes on you probably trying to find some fault in you to get started.

Since Y/N had a bad temper her visceral reaction was to get angry at the slightest disrespect but you’re different. You’re not that easy to provoke. You’re a modern woman who worked in a capitalistic company for years – some backhanded rude comment won’t do much.

“It feels like the lady is a different person. How unexpected. What could have made you change so much? Perhaps .. a new lover?” You almost spit out the tea when you hear the duchess’ inquiry. This is so unexpected that don’t know what to say for a moment.

“Ah, yes? Well, no I’m not seeing anyone at the moment.” You try to cover up your slip-up but the duchess’ smile is getting bigger but not in a good way. What is she up to?

Is she on the Min Yoongi fanclub as well; because that would explain so much.

“I see. I must have heard wrong then.” She let it go too easily, something smells fishy here. After that, the conversation finally drifted over to other topics like gem mines and dresses. It was clear they were talking in a way that you couldn’t contribute to the conversation but you’re not too sorry about that as you were not going to participate in the first place. Their plan to make you isolated in a conversation to make you feel bad is surprisingly mild. You’ve been expecting much worse.

“The tea is very fragrant. Recently my family imported jasmine tea so I hope the ladies enjoy this fresh taste.” To be honest the tea is pretty bland but everyone agrees and the marchioness looks pleased by the other's reaction. When you’re not saying anything they all look at you.

Since you feel pressured by their gazes you lift the cup to get another sip as you’ve not touched your tea all this time. You prefer coffee however, if you said that it would just be another thing to nitpick.

“Right, it’s delicious.” For some reason the ladies look impatient, they were sure this would work but you’re not reacting how they want you to. No matter how much backstabbing they are doing with their politely crafted insults you’re not budging.

It’s subtle but the lady on your right makes eye connect with the Duchess right before her hand slips and your dress is ruined by the dark liquid. She made it seem like an accident but there’s no way her hand would naturally slip like that – it was intentional.

It’s hot though. Your smile never falters after all this is a good opportunity to make your leave natural.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry my grip is feeble lately. I hope you forgive me.” You internally sigh at the bad acting; she’s even snickering under her nose behind that fan it’s clear what the intention was. She’s not really sorry she just needs an excuse to blame it all on you. If you get angry they will say you make a big deal out of a small mistake. They all saw it so there’s no way they don’t know it wasn’t an accident. There’s no point in proving or arguing.

“I see, maybe you should see a doctor about it it would be unfortunate if the lady gets sick. I will take my leave then I have to change my dress but I hope the ladies will enjoy the tea.” What you want to say is: – Eat shit all of you. You suppress a smirk as you take your leave it’s satisfying enough to see their angry faces since you dodged their attempts at bad-mouthing you. Many people witnessed the scene as you’re surrounded by noble ladies at each table – now they can’t spread false rumours as there are so many witnesses. If you got angry everyone would probably believe the twisted tales they told each other later but you managed to leave them with nothing.

This is pretty satisfying. Fufu.

Even if you’re drenched in tea Y/N is still pretty and eyes naturally follow you when you leave.

“Are you alright?” You’re surprised to meet Namjoon on your way back he holds up a handkerchief so you can clean your hands. You tried not to pay attention to him since earlier but you cannot ignore the fact that he’s been following you since this morning.

You didn’t think you could get away with rejecting the soon-to-be-blackened third male lead (as the second is your brother) but this is too much. What is Min Yoongi trying to do? Annoy you to death with his aid following you around unless you say yes or what?

“I’m not going to explain since you saw everything.” You narrow your eyes down on him but you accept the handkerchief nonetheless from his outstretched hands. Even as you start walking again he keeps following behind you.

“Do you want to say something Mr?” You stop abruptly if you have to listen to him anyway you will just listen to him now. You’re pretty tired from earlier you had to be on your best behaviour even though it was clear they were trying to provoke you.

“Ah, yes. I apologise but the Duke would like you to think about what happened last night and give him a positive answer.” You snort after hearing that – not too ladylike.

“You mean marry the duke?” Namjoon nods. “Ha, alright..” After a moment of followed silence,-“ I considered it again and I’m still saying no.” You turn around thinking that it was the end of it but Namjoon catches up with your steps in no time.

“Can I at least know the reason?” He asked timidly. Quite persistent, well he’s the only one who was with him till the end.

“Like I said I want love in a marriage. If the duke can’t love me then I can’t marry him.” This is good. If Namjoon tells him this he will probably give up now. You come up with such brilliant ideas today that you’re pleased with yourself. However – this was not the end.

Yoongi is riding a horse through the forest he already caught his prey so he’s not too interested in the scenery he’s already on his way back when his aid Namjoon appears.

“Did you tell her my message?” Namjoon bows in front of him as a greeting but looks nervous. He’s thinking about how could he tell the master that the lady rejected him again without a hint of hesitation in her voice. Reading his aid’s mind Yoongi’s brows furrow in distaste. She might be a lady with a significant house backing her but Yoongi thinks he’s not lacking anything as a husband candidate. He could give her money, real estate, jewellery, dresses everything she wanted so why did she reject him so confidently? The Duke of the North is getting a stack of marriage proposals daily that could fuel the fire in the fireplace all day long in his office so why did she reject him again?

“The lady told me to tell the duke she won’t marry you if you don’t love her. She wants a love marriage, not an arranged marriage.” Namjoon is carefully delivering her message to the duke who looks deep in thought after hearing that. Namjoon is also astonished by the fact that you don’t want to marry him. He has the wealth and authority which every woman is after. To think that she demeaned the duke to love her is insane.

He's afraid to see his master’s reaction. In all his years Yoongi never got interested in a woman before if anything it looked like he didn’t even see them. At Balls, he never danced no matter who asked or who tried to get close. The duke was never interested.

The duke didn’t answer but Namjoon thought that this was not the end of this. Yoongi seemed deep in his thoughts all the way back to the camp. The servants unloaded the bear he caught; a rare black bear that will probably ensure his win at the end of the hunting festival.

Back at his tent, he ordered a bunch of romance novels and while Namjoon found it a weird request he always did everything that his master ordered and then the research started.

He had once disinterested eyes but after your rejection he caught himself studying you whenever he could lay his eyes on you. His interest is rarely piqued but you keep showing him interesting things. The mystery of what you’re thinking in your head is driving him mad.

You softly hummed as you were getting ready for the award ceremony you’re in a good mood since you haven’t heard from Namjoon after that and when this is over you could go back to the mansion.

You only listened halfheartedly to the speech the king was giving as you already know who will become today’s winner. Or at least you thought so. In the original, the crown prince got first place with a deer but now everyone is celebrating Yoongi. He shines brightly his hair is perfectly styled and his dark uniform fits him perfectly he’s circled by nobles offering endless congratulations but he looks disinterested in them like always. He keeps looking over the faces when his eyes finally meet yours.

This is not how it was supposed to go. Whilst things deviated from the original little by little with your intervention this scene shouldn’t have changed. Yoongi didn’t have that many scenes within the novel as he usually showed disinterest in most things. You can’t imagine why he would win this competition when he hates bothersome things.

Oh. No, Why is he coming your way all of a sudden?

No one in the crowd expected him to stop right before you. No one actually believed he would accept the flower crown as Yoongi had never been involved with a woman before even if a lot of women desired him. But now he’s standing right in front of you handing you the flower crown. Your mouth would be hanging open by now if it hadn’t been for the large crowd that gathered around the two of you. Your father and brother who was standing next to you seem just as shocked as you are.

“What is the duke doing?” You try to push the crown away but Yoongi is relentless. If you won’t accept it gracefully he’s going to put it on your head with his own hands. This would be funny how he places the crown on you with a face that is devoid of any emotions.

“Are you going to reject me?” Hah! He knows well that you can’t. It’s tradition for the winner of the hunting competition to present the flower crown to the woman he wants to court or to a lover. With this Min Yoongi just announced to the world that he’s interested in you!

No matter what you say at this point the angry ladies whose eyes are stabbing you in the back with their intense gazes wouldn’t believe you in a million years that you’re not trying to covet their beloved duke. For a moment you wished you could be like him and read his thoughts for once.

You’re furious inside but you can’t show that. Even if you don’t like it you have to gracefully bow and accept his gift. Your eyes are a different story as you discreetly shoot arrows with your gaze. This means you have to attend the ball as his partner as well which is held on the last day. Originally you wouldn’t want to attend but now you’re obligated to.

Everyone’s attention was clearly on you and that made you sick.

You hurried away before anyone could ask you anything and you decided to rest at the family tent before you have to start getting ready for that bothersome ball. Who does he think he is? If you get entangled with the main leads no one can predict what will happen to you in the future. Normally you would be happy to be the centre of your favourite character’s attention but not when your life is on the line.

You can understand now when they say reading and experiencing something are two completely different things.

You’ve never thought that you would treat this way your favourite character to be honest you should be happy, even if he has an ulterior motive that is unknown to you for now, you’re the only woman he ever asked to marry and you actually thought about helping him somehow but the opportunity is too sudden. Also, what will you do if the story ends? If he lives and you live. You can’t live with him forever you know that this feeling and excitement and affection you have for him will fade away. You’ve always thought of him as a character you liked but he’s not in a book anymore; he’s right in front of your nose. There’s no way you can live in a loveless marriage for the rest of your life.

Can he even fall in love with you? Even at the last line he never looked at a woman. Maybe he falsely interpreted your words from before? Maybe he thought he had to show everyone he loves you like in a fake dating situation. Yes, if you talk to him he will definitely understand.

With a newfound determination, you left to look for him.

Namjoon doesn’t show outwardly that he’s surprised by your sudden visit but you could tell by the sudden hitch in his voice while greeting you.

“-Lady..” You ignore his greeting and go past him inside the inner tent. You’re perplexed for a moment when you see Yoongi’s shirtless back. He was in the middle of changing his clothes when you barged in but he doesn’t look fazed by it.

Namjoon hurriedly follows after you sweat is rolling down his temple as he apologises to his lord for letting you in. You’ve gone too far to back down now so you stand upright and cross your arms.

“Please, lady..” Namjoon struggles to try to get you out before his master unleashes his sword. He doesn’t like to be interrupted. You have no idea that Namjoon is fearing for your life but he actually admires you for your boldness not many can stand in front of his master without trembling in fear and you kept rejecting his marriage proposal. If anyone can be a match for his master it could be you.

“Go back I’ll handle it.” Yoongi dismisses Namjoon but he’s hesitant for a moment before he decides to leave the two of you alone. He has faith in his master that he won’t kill a noble.

During the flower crown ordeal you had so many things to say to him, curse him ask him why – so why is that you’re suddenly speechless in front of him? Yoongi drops the used shirt on the sofa. He can see anger in your eyes. He’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking.

He catches himself thinking that your reactions are quite amusing.

This is a first for him.

After you get over the initial shock of seeing his fit body you gather yourself to speak.

“Does the duke not care about my consent? The duke should know what it means to give out a flower crown. I don’t remember being the duke’s lover.” You’re fuming with both of your hands struggling in a fist.

Instead of replying the duke turned around and started looking for something on his messy desk. When he found it he approached you. Without realising you received it from him and when you looked at the book by the title alone you could tell it was a romance novel.

You can’t picture why the duke has that.

“You said you want love. I’m learning how to love you.” You’re rendered speechless by his words. He looks so serious that otherwise, you would think he’s joking. 

“Do you want to marry me that badly?” You ask in disbelief. This doesn’t make any sense.

“Yes.”

He didn’t even hesitate and your heart felt weird because of it.

“Why?”

You’re quite close. Probably as close to him as anyone was ever before. His face doesn’t show anything but you can’t just accept his words. “Why are you willing to go to such lengths to marry me?”

You look deeply into his eyes. Yoongi realises you’re not scared of him. This is also a first. Everyone who knows about his achievements fears him. He’s the Duke of the North, a war demon who never lost a single battle. His hands reach out to touch your face and as he expected you don’t flinch away if anything it looks like your eyes sparkle in the dim lights. He sees fire in them.

“I can’t tell you the reason unless you marry me.” Only family members can know about his powers, he can’t go against traditions. You’re smart and witty and that answer doesn’t satisfy you at all.

Shouldn’t you know everything before you marry someone? – Most of all the reason why they want to marry you.

“What is the duke thinking about? I can’t tell.” You sigh disappointed by his answer but you perk up when he replies.

“That’s what I want to know too.” At that moment his thumb runs over your lower lip feeling with his fingers how you take in a huge breath of fresh air. Your eyes go wide as if you come to a conclusion but before he could ask you about it Namjoon appears again making the two of you break up.

Suddenly conscious of the intimacy of your bodies you step back and Yoongi’s hand falls from your face.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but the lady’s maid is here. The maid said that the lady should start getting ready.” Right. You forgot about the banquet. Knowing that you can’t delay any longer you decide to leave for now but it’s clear that the conversation is not over and Yoongi could feel it too.

“Alright. Please pick me up when I’m done preparing.” Yoongi nods and you leave just like that.

He looks down at the thumb that touched your lips he read this inside the book that could be good to seduce you but he needs more practice. Feeling up your lips was not unpleasant like he thought it would though. You keep surprising him and his chest is starting to feel weird whenever he sees you.

You need to stick to him during the ball this is your best strategy if you don’t want to be chewed out by hungry wolves. Now all of Yoongi’s fanclub is going for your throat so you need to be as close as possible to ward them off. Thinking about how everyone’s eyes will be on you tonight is giving you a headache.

The maid selected a beautiful deep purple dress for you to wear with the appropriate heels and accessories. Your hair is in an updo with some locks framing your face. In this period it takes too long to get ready but there’s nothing you can do about it.

Even if you go while looking pretty or not everyone will try to find fault in you. You can hear it in your head how they will whisper that you somehow bewitched the duke.

No one can be ready when you step into the ballroom while holding Yoongi’s arm your outfits ridiculously matching despite the short notice. Everyone is gossiping like you expected.

They don’t even try to be subtle about it.

The first to approach you is your father and brother and your fingers unconsciously tighten around the duke’s sleeve. The three men exchange pleasantries but your father doesn’t like beating around the bush for long before he asks what everyone is curious about.

“I had no idea the duke was interested in my daughter.” You virtually facepalm yourself when hearing that. That is like saying to my face that I’m no match for the duke. You were known to be notorious but this is getting ridiculous. He should be saying that the duke is not good enough for you!

“I fell in love with her at first sight.” Everyone is silently eavesdropping and it looks like their ears and mouths are reaching the floor by now. Your reaction is not too far behind as well. You were thinking: ‘Don’t tell me that he read this in one of his romance novels as well’.

Can you even avoid getting married to him at this point now? Unlikely as how everyone is so focused on your life at the moment. It feels like you become the century’s sensation with this.

“Haha. The duke is just joking.” You try to lighten the mood but you can’t really get Yoongi and your father out of that weird exchange of looks. If he wants them to believe this he should say it with some emotion damn it. You want to yell this into his face but you don’t of course.

“No, I intend on marrying the lady.” Now he has done it. But seeing your father’s shocked expression is funny. You don’t think there’s anyone in the ballroom who’s not left in shock after hearing that. Even a lady from the Duke’s fan club fainted hearing that.

After your father left many noble couples approached you inquiring about you two was the first thing everyone did but Yoongi didn’t say much regarding the matter besides what he told your father and you were not going to elaborate further so soon after the men talked about business and the wife asked you some general polite questions. Going around for so long soon your feet started to hurt and the dress felt uncomfortable to wear. All you wanted to do was go back to your room and get some rest.

“I’m not feeling too well so I think I’m going to leave.” As a last resort, you interrupt the men’s conversation to get Yoongi’s attention. You reached your limit and just thinking about what happened today makes you feel exhausted. After you got your nanny kicked out you thought that things would calm down for a while but it seems like you were mistaken.

Now you have to deal with an even bigger trouble and his name is Min Yoongi.

“What’s wrong?” Yoongi scans your body looking for the cause of your unwellness which is surprising. You didn’t think he would ask about what’s wrong with you. You expected him to let you go with some curtesy words and while his face is as impassive as ever he is looking only at you.

Thinking about that makes a small shade of pink being introduced to your face. Maybe you have a fever. Yes. That’s probably it.

Reluctant to say it in front of the noble couple you reach for him to whisper into his ears so no one else could hear you. “My feet hurt my heels are uncomfortable to wear.” Thinking that it’s enough to explain why you want to leave you turn around to actually go when the duke holds you by the waist sliding one of his hands under your legs to pick you up. You almost let out an unladylike shriek but you manage to hold it in at the last minute. Your hands circle his neck to find stability.

“What are you doing?” Dropping the honorifics in your panic you whisper yell at him to let you down. This is so embarrassing.

 “I read it in a book if a lady tells you their feet hurt you need to carry them.” What kind of stupid book that is – you want to yell but you just lower your head so your eyes don’t meet with anyone as Yoongi carries you out.

Now you’re really not going to live this down. If some were skeptical now they are actually convinced that Yoongi is in love with you.

Can you even call this fake dating? He literally said he is going to make himself fall in love with you so you marry him!

You sit bonelessly on the sofa in Yoongi’s tent. He’s actually going to treat the wound on your feet as you try to grasp the situation. You feel exhausted now that you got to sit down.

If you think this through there’s no way you can claim it now that you have nothing to do with him. It might be your best bet to marry him. From your conversation earlier you keep thinking about what he said about wanting to know what you’re thinking. His sudden interest in you probably has something to do with his mind-reading powers. Could this be that he can’t read your thoughts? That could be possible.

He wouldn’t have asked otherwise so strangely and you keep thinking about being possessed in a novel and refer to him as your favourite character there’s no way he wouldn’t ask about it if he knew. Maybe…

Maybe he can’t read your thoughts because you’re not originally from this world?  – Y/N’s family’s power is to block powers so that could be a good explanation as well. You can’t really ask for confirmation since you’re not supposed to know that he can read minds.

You don’t realise you kept staring at him while you were deep in your thoughts. You wince when he puts the ointment on your wound roughly your hand goes to hold his wrist to stop him.

“Be gentle it hurts.” You look at him with a frown but he actually listens as he becomes more careful with his touches. His hand is full of callouses and cuts probably from wielding his sword. Now that you remember it he was called a war monster in the novel. Most times when he was mentioned he was looped in with his war achievements or his lack of interest in women. It’s interesting to know these little things that his desk is messy and that he’s not as scary as everyone makes him out to be. He can be quite gentle.

“Thank you.” This time you’re sincere.

This is the calmest tone you’ve ever spoken to him now that you’ve realised. You tried to keep your distance as much as you could you were quite rude to him until now. You’re not going to apologise though your anger was justified he did get you into this mess without your consent.

The silence that fills the space is not uncomfortable for some reason.

“It’s just a small cut you will be fine.” His tone is like usual but his actions cannot be told to be.

“W-What are you doing?” His lips are touching your feet. A small warm kiss is planted on your foot as if he’s wishing for your pain to subside. The duke is a rational man – this is probably another scene from that damn novel but why is your heart beating so loudly in your ears? After kissing it his eyes directly meet yours as if he’s searching for something in the depths.

“Did your pain go away? I want to know if the book had the facts right. It doesn’t seem medically accurate.” You’re too dumbfounded to reply but after regaining your senses you pull your feet away and the duke finally gets up from his kneeling position.

“This is not about the pain! It’s to make the girl’s heart flutter!” You avoid his gaze looking to the right after your sudden exclamation. You can’t believe you really have to explain this to him.

“Then did your heart flutter?” This is a dangerous thought – but maybe – just maybe his little head tilt looked a little cute. What should you do? Lie? Tell the truth?

“Everyone would be flustered in that kind of situation.” You try to rationalise what you’re feeling right now is not attraction. It’s going to fade away – he’s just a character you liked in a book. No need to get worked up.

“So – are you going to ask me again or not?” Trying to hide your embarrassment you get to the point. You decided not to run away from him – at least for now. You can come up with a plan later and if it doesn’t work out then divorce is still a thing in this period too.

“Will you marry me now?” He looks surprised. While it’s hard to read his expression you can disamble some of his emotions if you look for it hard enough. After all, he’s not that mysterious Duke of the North – but you don’t think the readers would be disappointed finding this out.

He’s still charming.

“Alright. Let’s get married.”

You said that but you still have some concerns. The novel’s development is truly out of hand this time. It’s also concerning that you haven’t seen the main protagonists yet. Taehyung is absent from the hunting competition but the main couple should meet during the imperial ball.

However – everyone only talks about your marriage with the duke. You were not sure if it was safe to marry the duke but to be honest, this could work in your favour. Now you can’t be the villainess who falls in love with Taehyung at first sight since you will be a married woman. If you don’t interfere they will have no reason to execute you and your favourite character won’t kill you because for some reason he needs you alive – so this is not so bad. Your reputation is slowly but rising among the aristocrats who witnessed your behaviour as you haven’t caused much trouble. If you exclude the scandal with Min Yoongi but it wasn’t even your fault.

Your father didn’t say a word when you said you were going to ride with Yoongi back to the capital. Your brother was a different story – he did try to object but failed as your father dismissed him. You don’t delude yourself that things will be that easy. Whilst your father didn’t object outwardly now because of the public eye it doesn’t mean he can’t reject the proposal when it’s inside the mansion. Wouldn’t be so bad to get out of that house either as you have mostly bad memories from that place.

The duke delayed his trip back to the north until your marriage is settled so now you’re on your way to the capital. Even if you don’t hold a big wedding both families have to agree to the marriage and then give the marriage application to the royal palace for registration only then it could be a legal marriage. It will take some time until everything is sorted out but that’s fine since you need to meet with Jungkook. You need to tell him the news but he probably knows about it by now. Still, you can’t rest until the house of Summer is taken down or someone else takes over his place preferably a better duke than him because a war would not help you survive here either.

“Will you tell me now why we have to be married?” The journey back to the capital will be quite long you decide to get some information out of him if you have to share the carriage with him anyway. The swaying of the carriage makes you uneasy so it’s better to focus on something else.

“We’re not married yet.” No shit Sherlock. You hold back the reflex to roll your eyes. He would look at you like a crazy woman if he could read your thoughts so you’re almost 100% sure this is the reason he wants to marry you.

“If you tell me doesn’t that mean I cannot take back my word since I would know your secret, Duke Min?” Your persuasion might work at least he’s thinking about telling you now.

It’s silent inside there’s no other sound than the carriage rattling on the road and when you’re about to give up trying to persuade him to tell you the atmosphere around the duke changes.

He’s always serious but he looks even more so now.

“Our family’s power is to read the human mind.” You take some fake time to process this – you can’t give him the suspicion that you already know about his powers. So you keep quiet and appear to be thinking before you speak up. Now – this is something to start with:

“So—you read minds. What does that have to do with me? Perhaps, you can’t read my thoughts?” It doesn’t seem like he suspects you he probably thinks you have good intuition. Hopefully.

“I can’t. But that’s not all.” Now you’re actually curious. You stay in your seat anticipating his answer when he instead touches your cheek again. This is not the time to recite some romance novel bullshit. “If I touch you like this I can’t read anyone's thoughts.”

This is crazy. Not just you – but no one. Do you really have some kind of power that you’re unaware of? Even if your family’s power is to deflect other powers that wouldn’t answer why touching you blocks out everything. In theory, it should only work on you.

“You really can’t hear anything?” You’re a bit excited this is new. You carelessly grab his hand that’s holding your cheek startling Yoongi in the process. Thanks to the bumpy road you lose your balance and land right on your companion’s lap. He grabbed you without thinking holding you by the waist both of your legs hanging off to the side your face excruciatingly close to his.

“Sorry, I lost my footing.” You try to get up but the road is really not letting you off the hook. If anything Yoongi has to pull you closer to not fall over with you in tow.

“Were your eyes always this pretty?” One hand goes to put some hair behind your ears. W-What is he saying now? You’re confused for only a moment before you realise. Romance novel.

After this trip is over you really want to know what kind of trashy romance novel he was reading as a reference and you would appreciate it if he did not try all of it out on you in such unexpected situations.

“I can’t believe the duke really said that with a straight face. If you want my heart to flutter you have to do better than that.” You were half joking and half serious but he doesn’t have to know that.

“Like what?” You didn’t expect him to ask but he found you in a playful mood. Since he wants to become your lover you’re going to prank him. After that, he will think twice before reciting such cheesy lines.

“A kiss probably.” You try to smile seductively with just the corners of your lips tilting upwards but that smile soon remains frozen on your face as warm chapped lips meet with yours.

It’s a kiss. The duke is actually kissing you.

It’s awkward your lips are touching but there’s nothing else. To think the duke doesn’t know how to kiss is funny.

You’re the first to pull back as you can’t keep back your laughter anymore. “I guess there’s one thing the duke is not good at.”

His face is as serious as ever but if you look closely he kinda looks offended by your statement. His hand tightens around you it looks like he has a competitive side to him as well. You keep learning new things about the duke.

It’s probably an impulse to prove you wrong but he pulls you back by holding the back of your head in place. It’s not just a peck now it’s transforming into a real kiss as he moves his lips over yours. It’s clumsy but somewhat charming. His tongue comes out unexpectedly but you’re not gonna stop now – you open your mouth to welcome his tongue and intertwine it with yours. It’s messy but it does make your heart flutter.

His breath on your face, his fingers in your hair you’re hyperaware of every little body part that touches his.

Before you get entirely lost in the sensation you pull back, stopping the kiss before it could devour you. You’re not the only one breathing hard the duke is panting as well. His hand is still around your head and his touch is especially gentle.

This weirdly romantic moment is interrupted by the trusted aid Namjoon yet again. It seems like he comes always at the worst moments.

The ride back home felt a lot shorter with Yoongi than when you were on your way to the hunting festival with your family. You feel shy. You get off Yoongi’s lap before the carriage door opens and someone sees you in a compromising position. The nation is shocked enough as it is.

“Maybe my heart did flutter a bit.” The words are quietly uttered but you’re sure the wind carried it away enough for the duke to hear it however, before he could register the hidden meaning behind your words then the carriage door opens and you accept Namjoon’s hand to get off first.

You’re too shy to watch his reaction or afraid to find the lack of it. Only Namjoon can see the rare sigh of his master looking somewhat flushed but he dismisses it, after all, the weather is quite hot here in the capital. He could be just feeling hot due to the long journey. The clothes they bought are not suitable for this warm weather but neither of them complained as this will be a mere visit so there’s no need to buy new clothes that would never be worn again after leaving for the north again.

The schedule suffered a setback as the duke suddenly proposed marriage and until everything was settled the departure was delayed. Yoongi offers you his arm to hold onto and you after a moment of thinking intertwine your arms going in the direction of your father’s office. You spotted the family carriage so they arrived by the time you got off. It’s not farfetched to think they expected your visit as both your father and brother seem to be waiting for the two of you. They are not visibly displeased but deep in their thoughts.

Your brother’s eyes automatically go to your joined hands wearing an uncomfortable expression. Of course, they wouldn’t want to let you go so soon. A part of you like to think selfishly and blame them. A thought enters your mind: they probably want to keep you here since you started to be useful lately. On the other hand, your calmer mind thinks more about the truth that they feel ashamed of their behaviour. If you leave them so early there’s no way they could amend their wrongdoings. Your brother feels guilty after everything that happened and there’s a hint of overprotectiveness in him as well as your brother. Even if you know all this you have no reason to provide them with forgiveness. A person needs to take responsibility for their actions.

You were not planning to leave this early but you decided to accept his proposal now that you know his secret they wouldn’t let you live if you suddenly tried to escape or go back on your word.

Even if you decided not too long ago to go through with it you’re shaking with nerves. You tried to make yourself feel better that you could divorce him once everything is over but now knowing the truth there’s no way you could cut ties so easily. While worrying won’t solve anything you’re still anxious. This is the best you can do for now since being his wife and him needing you means that he won’t kill you even if someone orders it. The plot has already changed but there’s no guarantee that the story won’t try to change back to its original.

Whilst your father looked reluctant to agree to this marriage he didn’t try to stop you surprisingly. He asked you if that’s what you want and when you answered with a yes he relented.

Your brother was a different matter – he kept glaring at Yoongi throughout the entire ordeal. Fortunately, Yoongi did not pay much attention to his animosity as they politely spoke about the preparations that needed to be done. There won’t be a big wedding that you are thankful for. You’re already the talk of the town there’s no need for more publicity.

In the last couple of days, everything seems to settle one by one quietly. The palace agreed to the marriage without objections however they set a condition which you were not expecting. The king wants to throw a ball before you head over to the north in honour of your marriage but you feel like there’s an ulterior motive behind this. Even if you suspect it you have no room to refuse the king so you and Yoongi agree to attend.

Leaving the house undetected in the meantime becomes quite challenging as the wedding preparations were reduced to be completed in two weeks you were moving in a tight schedule, dress fitting, and writing all the invitations you did not have much time on your hands to sleep not to tell about you private matters that you wanted to take care of before you permanently head to the north. The house staff also seemed busy with the preparations. A room was prepared for Yoongi and his men to stay in the house you couldn’t just let your future husband sleep in an inn whether your family liked him staying or not, there are enough rumours surrounding the two of you as is.

The preparations were not the only obstacle standing in your way sneaking out but the duke decided to follow you almost everywhere. While writing the invitations he used your office as his attending to his paperwork constantly being near you even if you were doing other things in the same room and when you asked why he had to work in your room he just answered with:

“Spending time together is a sign of affection.” He looks up from his stack of papers. That damn romance novel again.

“Have you heard of the line that ‘distance makes the heart grow fonder’ you should try it sometime.” You shake your head, murmuring it under your nose that he’s unable to hear you but when he looks at you questioningly you decide not to dare and repeat it.

One of these days you were feeling tempted to find that book and burn it so he cannot use it again as a reference. But you have to think about this, in worst case scenario he finds an even more romance infused book with ridiculous lines and plots to recreate. It’s not like you could learn romance through a book but you need to give credit where it’s due as he puts real effort into it at least. Looking at his unique circumstances as a child and as an adult you could see why he would want to learn romance from a book in a practical way. He was never showered with parental love and he had no means of growing fond of people too as he could hear their thoughts. He had no reason to. The means are clumsy but he’s trying hard to fall in love with you and making you fall for him as he put it. You never had a boyfriend who took dating this seriously before. It’s not that everything he does annoy you. You started to grow fond of the romancing lines that he recited with an indifferent face.

He's always honest which makes him a bit unapproachable at first but after spending time with him his honesty while it’s blunt he’s not saying anything out of malice. He’s just too sincere. It’s refreshing as you don’t have to look for underlying meaning. If you ask him something he answers without hesitation it’s good since you don’t have any misunderstandings. When you asked why he wanted you to fall in love with him he simply answered that ‘it means you won’t leave me’. You were so surprised that you started laughing his honesty was so absurd. It was kind of cute.

It took a considerable amount of time and scheming for you to finally be able to meet with the information guild in secret. Jungkook expected you to come by one of these days so he was not too surprised to see you. It felt like greeting an old friend he even teased you about suddenly getting married while having some good tea as company. Now that you both earned each other’s thrust you told him everything he needs to be wary of while operating secretly. Your purpose is to stop the war from happening and you need help to bring down the Duke of Summer but you need to be extra careful with your steps not to seem suspicious. You part ways with a wedding gift as Jungkook called it in your pockets. It’s a communication sphere that you could easily carry with you. It was a short meeting but you couldn’t help it as you had to go back to the wedding preparations.

You’re getting the jitters as you lay on your bed. Tomorrow is the d-day. You’re actually thankful for your brother for once. His purpose was probably just to separate you but that meant you had all day to yourself to get your thoughts in order before the grand wedding without Yoongi looming over your shoulders. It seemed at the last minute you had different opinions on small weddings as you had to send out tons of invitations. The maids made sure everything was perfect for the big day – this is the busiest and most carefree atmosphere this place ever got. It would have been a lot easier if you didn’t need to walk on eggshells all this time. Dodging the servant's rude comments and their ignorant behaviour they all changed when the masters started to change.

You’re only sorrowful that the real Y/N couldn’t experience this. The misunderstanding has been cleared but she’s nowhere to be found. Will she ever come back or you’re stuck as her forever? Time can only tell how things will work out in the end. But one thing is certain you’re not going to give up and you will live through this ending.

Yoongi is even more handsome when formally dressed he doesn’t look nervous unlike you. You join hands at the altar and the priest tells you your wows. The exchange ends like a blur with a light kiss on your lips. The rings on your fingers glisten in the bright light.

You’re pronounced as husband and wife. You’ve married your favourite character. This is crazy but this man in front of you is now your husband. You bit all ten of your nails by the time you’re done preparing for the wedding night. You were bathed very throughoutly and put in a nice nightgown that you haven’t seen before in your life.

Yoongi is already sitting at the edge of the bed when you enter the bedroom and he looks relaxed after his bath.

You later learn that he’s only relaxed because he has no idea what you should be doing on a wedding night.

You were aware of his unfortunate childhood and that the previous duchess and duke were not on the best terms with each other if you could call people who never met each other after getting married even ‘be in a relationship’ and now you’re convinced that their wedding night might have been the start of their miserable life.

Once the head of house Min gets engaged they get a script of how to produce an heir Yoongi explained but seeing the document yourself you feel sorry for the previous duchesses’ they had to endure a loveless marriage and probably a painful first time where their opinions were not even considered.

Sticking it in is not how a married couple should have sex. You don’t know who wrote this but this person clearly never had good sex. It’s weird to hold this piece of paper in your hand but since your marriage with Yoongi is not an ordinary one you learned that he got this paper this morning urgently to read before the ceremony. Even Namjoon were unaware of the contents as he was only the messenger. Arranged marriage is how house Min kept their bloodline going by getting sold daughters living miserable lives. You don’t want to be one of them. Thankfully you have an advantage that the previous duchess did not have; a power that could contain their madness.

You’re sure Yoongi will never try to hurt you if he wants you to be with him and provide him with blissful silence.

“If you try to do what this text says I’ll definitely never forgive you.” You toss the paper to the side after tearing it apart.

Yoongi’s in luck since he married a modern woman. You know enough about sex for the both of you to get a pleasant experience and you don’t think topping it would be much of a feat after reading what the previous heads were doing to their woman. No wonder without knowing or receiving love it would be hard to know about these things. The wives were too consumed by hate because of everything that had happened to them and the dukes had no idea how to love their wives at the brink of their madness. That is truly tragic.

You don’t believe however that Yoongi is not capable of feelings.

Even after spending this short time with him, you could see his character changing and you’re not only speaking about his determination to learn romance through those trashy romance novels. He actually listens, laughs and feels jealous. He used to be pretending to get close to you but you don’t think he did that kiss just to play out a scene. He does things impulsively too.

Initially, his interest was the only thing that fueled him to get closer and keep you by any means.

“What am I supposed to do then?”

This is crazy. Are you really allowed to corrupt your favourite character? Duh, you’re his wife now. The little you in your head reminds you. Y/N is you now even if you tried to deny it so many times this is your reality. You need to stop thinking that the life you’re living is someone else’s and you need to forget that these are characters in a novel.

You’re living in this novel now and this is your reality.

“You should kiss me.” A switch just flipped inside your brain. Just like in the carriage, you straddle Yoongi and his hands grip you through the small gown you wear that doesn’t conceal anything. It’s so thin he could feel your warmth. Yoongi sees your overall aura change, you suddenly look possessed. It stirs something in him seeing you riled up.

The consequences be damned you’re going to enjoy your wedding night with your favourite character.

– The war, the family struggle, the main characters that you haven’t met yet all of that can wait one more night at least. –

Yoongi kisses your lips gripping your bare thighs always listening so well. His tongue messily enters between your lips and you follow along with his rhythm the lack of his experience makes your job easier to dominate the kiss. Push and pull until both of you pant like dogs into each other’s open mouths. The blood from his head rushes to his lower regions. Unaware that he’s getting very aroused by your actions but you could feel the outline of his cock through your thin clothes. He might not know what to call what you do to him but he surely knows how that makes him feel.

That piece of paper definitely didn’t prepare him for you.

Your lips on his neck and your wandering hands are overwhelming him but he doesn’t dare to push you away, no, it feels too good to do that. You not only give him peace of mind without knowing what everyone thinks around him but show him new sensations and make him feel in a certain way. Feel loved. Even the slight pain that he feels as you mark him up is a pleasurable experience for him. Only after you get rid of his clothes that he sees his own cock fully hard. Your hand and mouth are already around it.

Sounds keep escaping his lips embarrassing whines and moans as your hot lips curve around his cock.

It’s warm wet and tight inside that Yoongi’s back arches off the bed shooting his load soon into your awaiting mouth seeing the signs of his orgasm. He cums embarrassingly fast. He doesn’t know what to do to contain this fire licking its way up inside his veins he follows your directions kissing you all over mimicking you hoping that it will feel good for you too, flipping you over as he hovers over your body kissing every inch of your skin making you moan as your fingers card through his messy hair. You hold his face close to your chest his lips kissing over your breasts and nipples. He reaches your pussy with your guidance his tongue first darts out to get a taste. Yoongi can feel his heart beat like crazy you’re wet and glistening for him. He keeps licking and flicking the tip of his tongue over your puffy bud loving how you say his name when he does something you especially like.

His lips are coated in your essence love how messy he gets with his licks. No matter what he does you keep shaking under him sighing his name. Your husband keeps your legs apart deflowering you sinfully with his tongue insistently rolling over and over your sensitive clit until you cum with a cry of his name. You pull him up for a heated kiss catching your breath but your hand impatiently aligns his cock with your wet opening.

Attempting to describe the feeling of how your warm walls hug him is futile but you can guess how good it feels for him when you see his eyes tightly shut and his mouth hanging open in a silent moan. His hips move on their own after you show him the way the initial discomfort after being stretched soon ebbed into a dull ache replaced with pleasure after some perfectly angled thrust on his part. He gets cockier and more confident with his movements as you moan louder when he finds a good spot he’s getting addicted to the feeling when you tighten around him.

He could do this all night with you. With your legs tightly wrapped around his torso or your leg on his shoulder hitting deeper in every position and angle your pussy feels tighter and wetter that he feels his orgasm build rapidly again. He keeps pushing inside you and pulling back until just the tip remains not caring if the bed shakes under you the wet squelch that your sexes make and the creaking of the bed is the song that you listen to all night long.

You lost count of how many times he finishes inside of you his cum dripping down your thighs when his passion finally subsides. The aftermath hits you hard feeling sore all over but utterly satisfied.

After sharing this heated night with your favourite you feel like you could accomplish anything in this life.

Novel. Or real life.

Yoongi got to experience many firsts with you. For the first time in his life, he desperately wants to cling to someone. Be loved and love in return. He welcomes your lazy kisses with his arms strongly holding you to his body. “If I can love, I promise to only love you.”

There’s nothing more you could ask for. Your smile reaches ear to ear and whilst Yoongi needs to learn a lot of things you’re ready to tackle this life with him and hopefully reach your happy ending.

[waldau-archived]

husband — lee seokmin | 1,220 words | fluff

this one is dedicated to lee seokmin's smile :)

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

"no."

"what do you mean, no?" dokyeom asks, manspreading. the exasperated eyebrow raise you give him doesn't deter him in the least.

"no, i'm not sitting on your lap to watch a movie."

"there's not much place on this sofa, though," he says, spreading his arms along the back of the sofa to emphasize his point. he really can take up a lot of space if he wants to.

"the floor is all free real estate, as far as i can tell."

"there's no way i'm letting my sweetheart sit on the floor when i'm on the couch."

"this is how your sweetheart can do it," you say, simply sitting down cross-legged on the floor in front of him and fumbling with the remote to find some good movie. you barely have two seconds of peace before he scoops you up in his arms and pulls you onto himself, so you're exactly where you said you wouldn't be.

"dokyeom."

he gasps. "my whole name?"

"be thankful i didn't call you seok—"

"can't hear you," he says loudly, one hand coming up to your mouth to stop you from saying his real name. you shut up for a second.

"ew," he says a moment later, taking his hand away from your mouth like it's on fire. "you licked it!"

"be thankful i didn't bite it."

"i'm thankful for you! isn't that enough?" he whines, hand returning to its place around your stomach.

your retort dies on your lips. you're still not used to how open dokyeom is with his words.

"i guess," you say. the remote lies forgotten on the floor.

"so," he says, turning you to face him, "why don't you want to sit on me?"

"i paid for this sofa, silly. i should be able to sit on it if i want to."

"but you know you don't have to pay anything for me. i mean, unless you want to," he adds with a sleazy wink, and it makes you laugh.

"what about functionality?"

"what about it?"

"the sofa's soft. sitting on you is like sitting on a rock."

"all that workout and you call me a rock? at least i'm warm!"

"okay, but what about a headrest when i need one?"

dokyeom guides your head down to his chest. "how's this?"

"hm. your heart's beating a bit too fast."

"that's because you're so close to me."

you let out a fake groan. "why did i have to get stuck with the cheesiest husband in the world?"

the moment you actually hear your own words, even mortified doesn't begin to cover what you're feeling. dokyeom lowers you down to the sofa and sinks to the ground on his knees, looking at you like you've given him the best gift he could've ever asked for.

"stop looking at me like that," you say, but you're not trying to bury your face into the fabric of the sofa. part of you wants to know what he thinks about your words.

he has that shit-eating grin on his face, the one that's burned into your eyelids even when you close your eyes. it never fails to make you smile.

"i'm not looking at you like anything," he says, but one of his hands has snaked up to your face, tracing your cheek.

"you look like you're in love. it's embarrassing."

"you're the one that called me your husband. that's worse."

"is it?"

dokyeom looks at you with a softer smile before he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your lips. you loop your hands around his neck, pulling him back in for more. you never do get enough of him, even on days you spend all twenty four hours by his side.

"i think," dokyeom says when he pulls back, having kissed you to the point where you've forgotten your name for a few moments, "being married to you would be the worst thing ever."

"yeah?" you ask, tugging him up to his feet and letting all his weight fall on you. it's not often that he lies on top of you, and you're reminded of how strong he really is.

"mm. you'd have to change your last name to match mine."

"what if i don't want to?"

"i could always take yours."

you smile. "oh? and how would the wedding be?"

"we could run away and get married, just the two of us."

"and what, have seungkwan curse us for the rest of his life?"

"our lives," he corrects, propping his chin up on your chest. "we could have a beach wedding, though. or a wedding at our dining table."

"who'd be your best man?"

dokyeom shudders. "not facing that headache till we actually get to it. your turn. what kind of a ring do you want?"

you pretend to think. "an adamantium one."

"funny," he deadpans. "i was thinking we could get married on the moon."

"you were thinking about marrying me?" you ask, wiggling your eyebrows.

"isn't that what we've been talking about all this while?"

"what else would be terrible about being married to me?"

dokyeom is the one who pretends to think now, his chin digging into your collarbone. not that you mind. "i'd want to be around you all the time. i'd make you call me your husband every time we meet someone. i'd spend so much time trying to find houses we'd like. terrible, no?"

you press a kiss to his forehead. "horrifying. would you marry me if i asked you to, right now?"

he looks at you for a moment more before hiding his face in your neck. "i hid something in the knife drawer that says yes," he says, voice muffled.

"the knife drawer?" you ask. "of all the places you could possibly..." dokyeom really does have the annoying ability to steal your breath, both with his kisses and words; your words dry up when you realize what exactly 'something' means.

"i learned it from the boys," he says, looking at you again, all proud. "you never know where to expect the mafia to hide their money."

you're not listening to him. it's the way he says it so easily. you were just joking about it, not even intending to say it, but the fact that he's had it in there since who knows when...

"kyeom, has anyone ever told you how beautiful you are?"

dokyeom looks up at you with wide eyes. "are you saying that just because i have a ring for you?"

you snort, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. "no, silly. i love you. i know i don't say it enough."

"you don't need to," he says, gentle. "i know you do."

both of you lie like that for a while, your hand gently scraping through his hair.

"so if i ask you to marry me right now..." you say again, because you just want to hear his voice.

"ten more minutes and that ring is yours. but it's not adamantium."

"what a shame."

you can feel his grin against your skin. "what did we even want to watch?"

you can't be bothered to remember. "i don't know, but i want to watch you."

dokyeom snorts. "stop trying to be cheesier than your own husband."

you don't think you're ever going to tire of hearing that.