bruh. game over. she’s marrying that guy and having really talented artistic babies.
Reblog this if you would buy a book with an LGBTQ main character, whose sexuality was not the primary focus of the novel
If you would not, reblog this.
"Quick!" You pounce on Harry as soon as he walks in the door, kissing him and pulling at his clothes. "It’s a half day today, the kids will be home soon!"
Harry looks surprised but no less pleased with your urgent desire to get into his pants, chuckling against your mouth and pulling you up against his chest once you get his shirt off.
"Can’t wait until tonight then, huh?" he teases you, hands on your ass and willingly accepting your tongue in his mouth.
"No," you almost growl, pushing your pants down your legs and taking his hand to place it between your legs. "I want you to fuck me, hard.” You nibble on his earlobe, and he shudders against you, fingers sinking into you. “And I want to be able to scream.” When Harry pulls away to look at you, his eyes have lost their playful spark, and are instead dark with lust.
"Whatever you want, baby."
Harry fulfills your wishes, and then some. He makes you cum twice, once with you straddling his face as he licks you out and another time making you scream his name just as you wanted, fucking you into the mattress with your legs perched on his shoulders and the bed knocking into the wall. You’re still basking in the afterglow, sharing blissed out kisses with your husband when you hear the loud, squeaking breaks of the school bus outside. It’s a mad dash to get dressed and to look like you haven’t just been fucked into next Tuesday, and just as you stumble out of the bedroom your children are scurrying happily inside the house. They squeal in excitement when they see Harry is home, your eldest hopping right into his arms to tell him about the assembly they had at school today.
Filled with warmth at seeing your family together, safe and happy, as well as feeling the pleasant soreness and floaty buzz you always get after you’ve been in bed with Harry, you divide your attention between your daughter showing you her painting from art class and fixing some snacks for the kids.
"Hey, Mommy, what’s that?" Your happy little bubble is burst when you follow your daughter’s curious gaze to see a familiar bunch of white lace peeking out from underneath the kitchen table.
"Uh oh!" Harry, still holding your eldest on his hip, is trying very unsuccessfully to restrain his laughter. "Looks like something fell out of Mummy’s laundry…"
Cheeks burning, you snatch up the panties and rush to put them in the laundry room, the sounds of your daughter’s confused questions and your husband’s laughter haunting you.