#i'm so excited to finally have a chance to read everyone's work

[v6quewrlds]

LOVE DROUGHT, JOE BURROW.

pairing⠀⁎⠀joe burrow x oc [chelsea brooks]. word count⠀⁎⠀26k.

summary⠀⁎⠀chelsea's life appears perfect. a beautiful home, a great job, and a valuable last name. leaving behind her life in atlanta to come to cincinnati presents new opportunities and new challenges in her marriage. the biggest challenge comes in the form of the handsome neighbor next door, every married inch of him.

author's note⠀⁎⠀don't do this ???? lmao. should really be named "joe and chelsea have an affair", happy ending! we love happy endings. i might have a part two in me, we'll see. takes place over a year give or take. this takes place in an alternate universe where joe never transferred to lsu/didn't go to the nfl, joe's "backstory" is entirely made up lmao, joe is 36, chelsea is 34, longest thing i've ever written in my life lol sorry? warnings⠀⁎⠀don't like it? don't read it <3 don't let your husband stop you from meeting your soulmate <3, infidelity, literally everyone in this story has questionable behaviors, several mentions of masturbation, mirror sex, infidelity as dirty talk?, booty calls.

Chelsea Brooks stepped out of her sleek black Mercedes, her Nike sneakers crunching the autumn leaves against the concrete driveway. She took a deep breath of the crisp, Cincinnati air, feeling the chilly breeze caress her cheeks. The house she and her husband, Terrence, had just bought was a beautiful monstrosity of stone and glass, a stark contrast to the warm, cozy homes of her Atlanta roots. She surveyed the quiet neighborhood, noting the perfectly manicured lawns and the welcoming porches that seemed to whisper tales of family gatherings and long summer nights.

Her husband, Terrence, was already inside, unpacking boxes filled with their lives from their old home. He was a neurosurgeon, a man of precision and order, and Chelsea knew that the chaos of moving would only add to his stress. But she couldn't help feeling a twinge of excitement as she approached the front door. The house was a symbol of their success, a testament to their hard work and their families' legacies. As she stepped into the foyer, she heard the distant sound of Terrence's voice, muffled by the walls that now stood between them.

The house was cool and unfamiliar, smelling faintly of paint and new carpets. The echoes of their footsteps made it seem like a cavernous museum rather than a home filled with love and laughter. The grandeur of their new abode was a stark reminder of the expectations that had been placed upon them since childhood. Chelsea and Terrence had worked their asses off to maintain the status quo, to be the poster children for "love" and "excellence". But as she looked around, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was missing. It was as if their lives had been painted by numbers and they hadn't had the courage to scribble outside the lines.

"Terrence, where are you?" Chelsea called out, her voice echoing through the vast, empty space.

Terrence emerged from the depths of their future dining room, sweat beading on his brow. "In here, baby. I'm just getting the last of the china unpacked. Your momma's gonna love that we finally have our own china cabinet."

Chelsea couldn't help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood. It was true, their parents had been thrilled with their move to Cincinnati. It was a step up for both their careers and a chance to rub elbows with the upper echelon of society. But for Chelsea, the move had brought a sense of suffocation. She was an entertainment lawyer, used to the fast-paced, glitzy world of celebrities and sports stars in Atlanta. Here, she felt like a fish out of water.

"I brought lunch," Chelsea announced, holding up a bag from the deli they passed on the drive in. She set it down on the marble kitchen countertop and opened it, revealing hot sandwiches and a side of chips. "I know how you hate eating cold food, so I figured I'd be nice and get you something warm."

Terrence looked up from the box he was unpacking, his eyes lighting up. "You're a lifesaver, baby," he said, stepping over to give her a quick smile. His hand lingered on the small of her back, a gesture that was somehow both casual and possessive. "How was your first day at the firm?"

Chelsea shrugged, trying to keep the doubt out of her voice. "It was great. Met some interesting people. The office is nice, but it's going to take some getting used to." She handed him a sandwich and watched as he took a bite, his eyes closing briefly in satisfaction. "It's not Atlanta, that's for sure," she added, unable to hide the wistfulness that crept into her tone.

Terrence looked at her, his expression softening. "I know it's a change, but it's for a good reason. I'm making more money, saving more lives... we're in this together." He took another bite, then paused. "What do you think about the neighborhood? They got some crazy-ass houses around here."

Chelsea nodded, trying to muster some enthusiasm. "Yeah, it's nice. You saw the fuckin' three-story McMansion next door? I ran into the retired couple who own it, the Chens. They had their grandkids over, screaming and playing in the yard. It was cute." She took a bite of her cold sandwich, savoring the flavor of the turkey and avocado.

Terrence chuckled. "I'm sure it'll be quieter when they're not around." He wiped his mouth with a napkin. "Speaking of neighbors, I've heard the couple on the other side are pretty cool. The wife owns that fancy ass restaurant downtown. We should pop over there and introduce ourselves."

"Gianna Mora?" Chelsea's eyes widened. "The celebrity chef from that travel show? Are you for real, she's our neighbor?"

"That's the most excited I seen you all week," Terrence said with a laugh, his eyes sparkling at the mention of their famous neighbor.

"Well, it's not every day you live next to a celebrity chef," Chelsea replied, her curiosity piqued. "I've seen her show a few times. She seems really down-to-earth."

Terrence nodded in agreement. "Yeah, she's got that whole 'girl next door' vibe going on. Her and her husband, they seem like good people." He took another bite of his sandwich, his voice muffled slightly. "I think I saw him out jogging this morning. He got to be pushing six-four, 220 pounds, easy."

Chelsea felt a twinge of curiosity about the mysterious neighbor, Joe Burrow. She had heard Gianna's name often in the entertainment circles, but never knew much about her husband. The idea of a quiet, introverted man being married to a vibrant, outgoing celebrity was entertaining. She imagined him as a silent supporter, the rock that kept Gianna grounded amidst her culinary stardom.

The sound of the doorbell cut through her thoughts, and Chelsea wiped her hands on a spare napkin before walking over to answer it. She was surprised to find Gianna on the other side, her bouncy, jet black hair pulled back in a ponytail, a warm smile on her face. "Hey, I hope you guys aren't too busy," she said, her eyes scanning the still-boxed living room. "I just wanted to stop by and introduce myself properly. I'm Gianna."

Chelsea stepped aside, gesturing for Gianna to come in. "Of course, we've been meaning to do the same," she said, feeling a little guilty for not taking the initiative. "I'm Chelsea, and this is my husband, Terrence."

Gianna's smile grew as she stepped inside, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor. "It's so nice to meet you both," she said, her midwestern accent adding a layer of charm to her already bubbly personality. "I figured you guys might need a break from all the unpacking. Plus, I wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight. My husband Joe will be home from his business trip, and I love any excuse to mess around in the kitchen."

Terrence wiped his hands on his pants, setting down his half-eaten sandwich. "That's incredibly kind of you, Gianna. We'd love to come over."

Gianna's smile widened. "Perfect. How does eight o'clock sound?"

"We'll be there," Terrence said, flashing his most charming smile. "Looking forward to tasting some of that famous cooking of yours."

Gianna's eyes twinkled with excitement. "It won't be anything too fancy," she said, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Just a little welcome dinner for the new kids on the block." She handed Chelsea a business card with the address of her restaurant. "And if you're ever in the mood for something special, feel free to stop by the restaurant. I can always whip something up for you."

"Thanks for the invite, Gianna," Chelsea said, her eyes flicking to the paper before setting it down on the counter. "I'm sure it'll be amazing. We'll see you tonight."

As the door closed behind Gianna, Terrence turned to her. "You okay with this?" he asked, his eyes searching hers. "I know you've had a long week."

Chelsea nodded, swallowing the last bite of her sandwich. "Yeah, I'm fine. It'll be nice to get to know our neighbors."

Terrence leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And maybe get a little gossip on the local celeb scene," he teased, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Chelsea couldn't help but roll her eyes. "You just want to get closer to her recipes," she said, tossing a napkin at him. "But sure, let's get ready. I need to find something to wear that doesn't look like I just rolled out of a moving van."

"Wait, baby, hold on," Terrence called out, reaching for her hand as she moved to stand up. "I think we have to christen the house, don't you?"

Chelsea sighed, the weight of his words not lost on her. She knew what he wanted, and while the timing was less than ideal, she also knew it would be a quick and easy way to keep him satisfied. She nodded, a forced smile playing on her lips as she let him pull her back down to the couch. He kissed her, his hands moving to the zipper of her skirt. It was a dance they had performed countless times before, a routine that lacked the passion it once had.

As they undressed each other, Chelsea couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. Terrence was still the same romantic he had been in college, but that was precisely the problem. He had stayed the same while she had grown into a woman who craved more. More excitement, more adventure, more everything. But she pushed her thoughts aside as she focused on the task at hand, trying to find some semblance of satisfaction in their lovemaking.

Terrence, oblivious to her inner turmoil, whispered sweet nothings in her ear as he kissed along her neck. Chelsea closed her eyes, willing herself to feel something, anything, other than the coldness that had settled in her chest. She let out a moan, hoping to convince herself more than him, and he took it as an encouragement to go harder. The couch creaked under their weight as they moved in a rhythm that had become all too familiar.

Afterwards, Chelsea stood in the bathroom, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her makeup was smudged, and she looked tired. She quickly cleaned herself up and slipped into the shower, letting the hot water wash away the feeling of emptiness that lingered. When she emerged, she found Terrence getting dressed for the dinner, his eyes lighting up at the sight of her.

"You look amazing," Terrence said, his eyes appreciating her figure as she stepped out of the bathroom. "Like you just stepped out of a magazine."

Chelsea forced a smile, wrapping a towel around her body. "Thanks, T," she said, her voice lacking its usual enthusiasm. She had chosen a simple black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places. It was a classic choice, one that she knew would make her look put together without trying too hard. She didn't bother with the lingerie Terrence typically encouraged her to slip on; it was just for show tonight.

They arrived at Gianna and Joe's home promptly at eight, the warm glow of lights spilling out from the windows. The scent of something delicious wafted from the kitchen, making Chelsea's stomach rumble. Terrence knocked on the door, and after a moment, it swung open to reveal Joe. He was dressed casually in a button-down shirt and jeans, his hair slightly ruffled as if hastily blow-dried.

"Welcome, welcome," he said, his eyes lingering on Chelsea a beat too long before looking at Terrence. "I'm glad you could make it. I'm Joe Burrow." He shook Terrence's hand firmly and then offered his hand to Chelsea. She took it, feeling a spark of something unfamiliar jolt through her at the touch. The two men exchanged a bottle of Terrence's homemade apple cider, as Chelsea attempted to moderate her heartbeat.

Gianna emerged from the kitchen, a vision in a flowy red dress that hugged her petite frame. She had a warm smile that seemed to light up the room, and her eyes were bright with excitement as she greeted them. "Come in, come in," she said, her accent a delightful blend of her midwestern roots and her PR training. "I hope you're hungry, I made some pozole rojo that I've been dying to share with someone other than Joe."

The four of them settled around the dinner table, the conversation flowing easily. Chelsea found herself drawn to Joe's deep blue eyes and the way his muscles flexed under his shirt as he reached for the bread. He was handsome in a way that was almost old fashioned, like a 1940s movie star who'd stepped out of the screen into their modern lives. And there was something about the way he talked, the quiet confidence in his voice, that made her want to lean in closer, to hear every word he said.

Terrence and Gianna talked about their work, the challenges of balancing their demanding careers with their personal lives. Chelsea listened, nodding along, but her mind kept drifting back to Joe. She could feel the tension between them, a palpable force that seemed to thicken the air in the room. It was as if they were the only two people there, and everyone else was just a blurry backdrop to their clandestine attraction.

Dinner was a delightful array of flavors and textures, each bite a testament to Gianna's culinary talents. But Chelsea had to admit, she was having a hard time focusing on the food. Her focus kept wandering to Joe, the way his strong hands moved as he reached for a tortilla, the way his voice rumbled in his chest when he laughed. She took a sip of the wine from the winery Gianna and Joe owned, trying to keep her cool. The conversation turned to their hometowns, and Chelsea talked about growing up in the bustling streets of Atlanta, the vibrant culture and the endless energy that had shaped her into who she was today. Joe spoke of his small-town upbringing, his voice filled with a hint of nostalgia that made Chelsea's heart ache.

Terrence excused himself to take a work call, leaving Chelsea, Gianna, and Joe to continue the evening. Chelsea felt a strange sense of relief, as if she had been waiting for this moment all night. The conversation grew more intimate, the three of them sharing stories of their college days and their early careers. Chelsea found herself laughing at Joe's tales of his college football days, his face lighting up with the memories. Gianna, ever the gracious host, listened intently, her eyes shimmering with pride.

As the wine bottle grew empty, Joe suggested they move to the living room, where a crackling fire and comfortable couches beckoned. Chelsea agreed, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spreading through her body, loosening her inhibitions. She across from Gianna whose head rested against Joe's broad shoulder, his wedding ring glistening as he rested his left hand over the back of the couch. Terrence joined them, his eyes glazed over with the fatigue of a doctor's schedule.

The conversation took a turn to their respective careers and how they had met their spouses. Chelsea and Terrence talked about their college romance, their paths diverging and then converging again in the world of law and medicine. Gianna shared her journey from culinary school to opening her own restaurant, which Joe had supported her through every step of the way. It was clear that Joe and Gianna had a strong bond, built on respect and a shared history. Yet, as the night grew late, Chelsea couldn't shake the feeling that Joe's eyes kept straying to her.

When Terrence finally stood up, yawning and checking his watch, Chelsea felt a jolt of disappointment. She didn't want the evening to end, not yet. But she knew she couldn't ask him to stay. "We should get going," Terrence said, "It's been a long day and I've got an early surgery tomorrow."

"Let's exchange numbers," Chelsea suggested, standing up and smoothing her skirt. "We should get together again once we're all settled in."

Gianna beamed, and the two women exchanged numbers while Joe quietly observed. Chelsea felt his gaze on her as she said goodbye, the intensity of it making her heart race. They stepped out into the cool Cincinnati night, the stars glinting in the sky above their heads. Terrence walked them down the sidewalk to their home, his hand resting protectively on the small of Chelsea's back.

The next few weeks saw Chelsea and Joe's paths crossing more often than not. They'd wave from their respective lawns as they mowed the grass or tended to their flowers. They'd bump into each other while out at their mailboxes, exchanging pleasantries and small talk. Yet, the charged energy between them grew with each encounter, the unspoken desire thickening like the humidity in the air before a summer storm.

Work kept both Chelsea and Joe busy, allowing their attraction to simmer under the surface of their daily lives. Yet, every time their eyes met, the electricity was undeniable. Chelsea found herself looking forward to these casual meetings, her heart fluttering as she anticipated their next encounter.

Chelsea closed out a huge contract with a professional basketball player about two months after moving to Cincinnati, feeling a high she hadn't experienced in weeks. As she pulled into the driveway, her heart skipped a beat at the sight of Terrence's car in the garage. He was rarely home before dark. She bounced into the house, her heels echoing through the grand entryway, and found him in the living room, surrounded by the last of their cardboard boxes. "Surprise," he said, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "I took the afternoon off. I thought we could finally get this place in order."

Their relationship had been chilly since the move, but Chelsea felt a spark of hope at his gesture. They worked side by side, unpacking and rearranging furniture, and when the last box was empty, they collapsed onto the couch, laughing and sweaty. It was the most relaxed she'd been around him in months, and Chelsea allowed herself to feel a flicker of affection for him.

"Thank you for helping me today," she said, leaning into his side.

Terrence grinned, his eyes meeting hers briefly before returning to the TV. "No problem. It's what we do for each other."

But as the days rolled into weeks, the spark didn't catch. The routine of their marriage resumed its monotonous cycle, and Chelsea found herself looking out the window, watching Joe jog past her house in the early mornings. His tall, muscular frame was a stark contrast to Terrence's slim build, and she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to feel those arms around her instead.

"I'm all packed, Chels," Terrence called out from their bedroom, interrupting her thoughts. "Don't wait up for me tonight, I've got a full surgical schedule and an even longer flight. I'll be back in a week." He kissed her on the forehead and she nodded. Terrence would be attending a medical conference in London, leaving Chelsea to hold down the fort and entertain her best friend flying in from Atlanta for the weekend.

Chelsea watched Terrence's taillights disappear into the early morning sunlight, feeling a strange mix of relief and dread. The house was quiet, almost too quiet without his constant presence. She had the weekend to herself, but she knew the silence would only amplify her thoughts of Joe. But with her best friend, Jasmine, arriving that evening, she had no time to wallow in her illicit desires.

With a deep breath, Chelsea turned her focus to the impending weekend. She had plans to take Jasmine to all the local hotspots, including Gianna's restaurant. As they unpacked her luggage, Chelsea's phone buzzed with a message from Gianna, supportive of Chelsea's suggestion they all grab dinner together the following night at the restaurant.

That evening, as Chelsea and Jasmine lounged on the plush couch with a bottle of wine, both Terrence and Joe were the furthest thing from her mind. They laughed and reminisced about their old antics, filling the air with nostalgia. Chelsea had missed this, the genuine connection with someone who knew her before she became Mrs. Brooks, the high-powered, ultra-successful attorney. Jasmine was a reminder of the wild, carefree woman Chelsea used to be before the expectations of her family and marriage had tamed her spirit.

The next night, Chelsea and Jasmine got dressed to the nines for dinner at Gianna's restaurant. The scent of garlic and spices wafted from the kitchen, tantalizing their senses. As they waited for their table, Joe strolled in, looking as suave as ever in a tailored suit. Chelsea felt a jolt of electricity at the sight of him, and she knew that she hadn't been able to shake the attraction she'd felt that first night. She introduced Jasmine and the two of them chatted for a bit before Gianna whisked them away to show off the kitchen.

Jasmine leaned in to whisper, "Damn, girl, your neighbor is fine."

Chelsea rolled her eyes, "Really? I didn't notice."

The evening passed in a delightful blur of exquisite food and lively conversation. Gianna regaled them with tales from her show, and Joe shared stories from his corporate world. Despite their different backgrounds, Chelsea found herself drawn into Joe's world, his quiet confidence and sharp wit a refreshing change from Terrence's stoic nature. She couldn't help but feel a twinge of something she hadn't felt in a long time—desire.

As they said their goodnights, Joe's hand grazed Chelsea's arm, sending a shiver down her spine. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't resist the allure of the flame. The following day, as Chelsea pulled out of the driveway to drive Jasmine back to the airport, she saw Joe outside, dressed in a suit again, presumably heading off to work. He waved and she felt her cheeks warm, the memory of his touch still lingering on her skin.

Days turned into weeks, and the tension between Chelsea and Joe grew thicker than the humid Cincinnati air. They saw each other in passing, exchanging polite smiles and lingering stares, but not much else. Chelsea threw herself into her work, burying her thoughts in contracts and negotiations, but Joe's magnetic presence was never far from her mind.

One sweltering afternoon, as Chelsea returned from a particularly grueling day at the office, she spotted Joe in his backyard, sweat glistening on his forehead as he tended to the garden. Her eyes lingered on his broad shoulders and strong hands. Before she could convince herself otherwise, she found herself walking over, her high heels sinking into the soft grass.

"I didn't know Mr. CFO had a green thumb," Chelsea called out, her voice carrying over the fence that separated their properties.

Joe looked up, a smirk playing on his lips as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "It's one of the few things that keeps me sane," he responded, straightening up to give her a better view of his body. His white dry-fit pulled taut across his broad chest. "Gigi likes to grow her own herbs and somehow, I got roped into it."

Chelsea stepped closer, the heat from the sun matching the warmth that spread through her body. "I can see the appeal," she said, her eyes raking over his muscular physique. "It's therapeutic."

Joe nodded, his gaze lingering on her figure. "It's a good distraction," he said, the double meaning clear in his voice.

"I could use a distraction," Chelsea admitted, her voice low and sultry. She stepped back from the fence, work bag in hand. "It was nice to see you. Happy gardening."

Another five weeks passed, and Chelsea found herself getting ready for the annual fundraising gala for her firm. The event was a mix of high-profile clients and potential new business connections, so the pressure to make a good impression was high. As she slipped into her form-fitting black gown, she couldn't help the sinking disappointment flood through her when Terrence called to say he had to cover an emergency surgery. He'd miss the gala, leaving her to attend alone.

The hotel ballroom was a whirlwind of glitz and glamour, the air thick with ambition and expensive cologne. Chelsea felt both out of place and completely at home as she mingled with the city's elite. She had hoped to use the evening to put Joe out of her mind, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was being watched.

Sure enough, when she turned to grab a glass of champagne from the waiter, she saw him standing by the bar, looking every inch the powerful CFO he was. His eyes met hers, and she felt a jolt of electricity shoot through her body. They hadn't talked since the day she saw him in the garden, but the heat was as potent as ever.

"Joe," she said, trying to sound casual. "I didn't know you were coming tonight."

He approached her, his smile wry. "Gianna had a last-minute filming gig," he said, holding up his own glass. "I thought I'd come to support a good cause. I didn't realize this was your firm?"

Chelsea felt her heart race as she took a sip of the bubbly. "It's a small world," she murmured, her eyes darting around the room. "But I should probably go mingle."

Joe leaned in, his breath hot against her ear. "Or you could stay here and mingle with me," he suggested, his hand brushing against her bare back.

Chelsea's skin prickled with desire, and she knew she was playing with fire. "I shouldn't," she whispered, trying to pull away. But Joe's touch was like a magnet, drawing her back in.

"Why not?" he challenged, his voice low and seductive. "We're just two adults enjoying a bit of conversation." His hand slid down to the small of her back, pulling her closer. The heat of his palm seemed to burn through the fabric of her dress.

Chelsea's resolve was slipping. The room felt too warm, the noise of the party a distant buzz. "Because we're both married," she said, her voice trembling slightly, "to two great people who don't deserve to be hurt."

Joe's expression grew serious, his hand lingering on her back. "You're right," he said, "but we're also two people with needs." His thumb traced small circles on her skin, sending shivers down her spine. "Needs that aren't being met."

Confusion flickered in Chelsea's eyes, the conflict between her desires and her conscience playing out on her features. "Gigi's drop-dead gorgeous," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "and Terrence... he's a good guy. Why isn't that enough?" She practically scoffed at the thought as if scolding herself for being unfulfilled.

Joe's gaze grew intense. "It's not about what's enough," he replied, his hand sliding lower to rest just above the curve of her ass. "It's about what we want." His voice was a low rumble that seemed to resonate deep within her. "And I know what I want."

Their conversation was interrupted by a colleague of Chelsea's, breaking the tension like a knife through hot butter. She was torn, part of her relieved for the interruption, the other part craving Joe's touch. As she was dragged away to schmooze with potential clients, she could feel his eyes on her, watching her every move. The evening grew longer, the conversations more forced, and she found herself counting down the minutes until she could be alone with her thoughts.

When the event finally wound down, Chelsea made her escape to the hotel's lobby, her heels clicking against the marble floor. She was about to call for a ride home when Joe appeared beside her, his hand on her elbow. "Let me take you home," he offered, his voice thick with intent.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she weighed the consequences of her decision. With a deep breath, she nodded. They made their way to his car, the cool night air doing little to calm her racing thoughts. The drive was filled with tense silence, their eyes meeting every time they stopped at a red light. The anticipation was palpable, a silent crescendo building between them.

When they arrived at her house, Joe's hand lingered on the gear shift. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice thick with unspoken desire. He turned to her, his eyes searching hers.

"Chelsea," he began, his voice gruff with want.

With a surge of control, Chelsea moved to open the passenger door. "Thank you for the ride, Joe," she said, trying to keep her voice even. "I should get inside. I'm exhausted."

He nodded slowly, the tension in the car thick as they both knew what they were walking away from. "Alright," he said, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'll see you around?"

"Sure," she replied, her voice a soft sigh. "See you around."

The door clicked shut, and Joe waited until she was safely inside before driving away. Chelsea leaned against the door, her hand on her racing heart, feeling the weight of the evening's events pressing down on her. She knew she was playing with fire, but she couldn't deny the excitement that danced within her.

Her body felt heavy as she climbed the stairs to her bedroom, the memory of Joe's touch still electric on her skin. She slipped out of her dress and into her silk nightgown, her mind replaying the night's events in a dizzying loop. As she slid between the cool sheets, she couldn't shake the feeling of Joe's eyes on her, his touch, his voice. Her hand traveled down her body, tracing the same paths he had earlier. Her breath grew ragged as she reached her own release, moaning his name out loud into the darkness, the syllables falling off her tongue as if destined.

The next day, she found herself unable to concentrate at work, her thoughts consumed by Joe. The office felt stifling, and she couldn't help but wonder if he was feeling the same. She found her eyes darting to her phone, waiting for a message that never came. It was as if the universe knew she was teetering on the edge, and it was holding its breath.

When she got home, she was surprised to find a bouquet of flowers on her doorstep with a note that simply read, "All my best." She knew immediately they were from Joe, and the gesture sent a shiver down her spine. She brought them inside, placing them on the kitchen counter, and stared at them for what felt like hours, the scent of roses filling the room.

They kept running into each other, the tension growing with every passing encounter. They exchanged glances that spoke volumes, but neither made a move. The weight of their secret grew heavier with each shared smile, each lingering touch. It was a dance they both knew could end in disaster, but the music was too tempting to resist.

The next time she spoke to him was a Saturday afternoon in May. Terrence was out playing golf with colleagues, and she had spent the day cleaning from top to bottom. The house was finally starting to feel like home, but she couldn't ignore the emptiness that echoed through the halls. The sun cast a gorgeous glow over the neighborhood as she stepped outside to get some fresh air. She exchanged her usual business attire for a pair of shorts and a simple tank top, her freshly pressed hair pulled into a high ponytail.

As she sat on the porch swing, the sound of faint grunts and huffed counting from Joe's backyard caught her attention. Curious, she slid her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose to get a better look. She found him shirtless, a sheen of sweat glistening on his broad chest and shoulders as he worked through a set of push-ups. Chelsea couldn't help but admire the play of muscles beneath his skin, her gaze lingering longer than she intended.

Their eyes met, and Joe paused mid-push-up, a smirk playing on his lips as he held his hover over the shaded pavement effortlessly. He didn't bother getting up, instead continuing his workout, clearly enjoying the attention. She felt the heat creep into her cheeks and turned away, looking down as she pretended to examine the fence. The sound of his footsteps grew closer until he was standing on the other side, just a few wooden slats separating them.

"You know, I could use a spotter," he called over with a laugh, his voice low and teasing. "Or are you just here to admire the view?"

Chelsea rolled her eyes, though she couldn't hide her own smirk. "I wouldn't dare interrupt your workout routine, Mr. Burrow," she quipped, trying to sound more casual than she felt.

"Joe," he corrected, his voice dropping an octave. "And I could use the company."

The air thickened between them, charged with unspoken desire. Chelsea felt her heart quicken. She knew she should go inside, maintain the facade of a contented wife. But she didn't move. Instead, she found herself saying, "I make a kick-ass iced tea, if you're thirsty."

Joe's grin widened, and without missing a beat, he responded, "I'm parched. I'll be right over."

The moment Joe stepped into her kitchen, the air grew electric. Chelsea poured two tall glasses of iced tea, her hands shaking slightly as she handed him one. They clinked their glasses together in a silent toast, and she took a sip, the sweetness and coolness providing a brief respite from the heat building inside her. He drank deeply, watching her over the rim, his eyes never leaving hers. The silence stretched out, a taut thread ready to snap at the slightest provocation.

"Your house is beautiful," Joe said finally, breaking the silence as he scanned the open-plan living room. "I don't think I've seen it all put together yet."

"Thank you," Chelsea replied, her eyes following the trail of condensation down the side of her glass. "It's still a work in progress, not 100% what I want, but it's coming together." She took a deep breath, trying to ignore the way his presence seemed to fill the space, making the house feel both smaller and more alive than it had in months.

They made small talk as they walked around the house, Joe nodding and making the occasional comment about the decor, though his eyes never strayed from hers for long. The conversation grew more intimate as they sat down in the living room, the tension between them palpable. Chelsea's eyes flicked to the clock on the mantle, reminding her that she had a few hours before Terrence was due home.

"So, what's been keeping you busy?" Joe asked, setting his glass down on the coffee table.

"Coaster, please," Chelsea said with a smile, gesturing to the spot where his glass was leaving a ring. Joe's eyes followed her gesture and he chuckled, placing it on the provided coaster. "I got thrown into an image rights case last minute," she continued. "I've been in and out of court most days, so not much time for anything else."

"Sounds hectic," Joe said, leaning back into the couch, his muscular arms flexing under the fabric of his shirt. "But I'm sure you're crushing it."

"I try," Chelsea said, sipping her tea, her gaze lingering on the way his biceps bulged. "But sometimes, I wish I could just take a break from it all."

Joe leaned closer, his eyes searching hers. "What would you do if you could?"

Her breath hitched. "I don't know," she murmured. "Maybe just escape."

Joe set his glass aside and shifted closer, his knee brushing hers. "Where would you go?"

"Somewhere tropical," she said, observing the brown drink in her hand. "White sand beaches, clear water, and zero cell service. Terrence gets so antsy when he's away from work, I doubt he'd even come with me." She lifted her eyes to find Joe studying her, his expression unreadable.

"You deserve a break," he said, his voice dropping an octave. "Someone should take care of you."

The words hung in the air, and Chelsea's heart raced at the implication. She swallowed hard, trying to keep her composure. "I'm sure you're busy too, with the winery and your work."

Joe leaned back, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, it's been a grind. But sometimes, you need to make time for what's important." His hand hovered over her thigh, and she felt the warmth of his touch pressing into her skin. She didn't move away.

The room grew quiet, filled only with the faint hum of the AC and the distant sound of a lawnmower outside. Chelsea's skin prickled with anticipation as Joe's hand slid closer to her, the fabric of her shorts the only barrier. She took another sip of tea, the ice cubes clinking against the glass, the sound amplified in the tense silence.

"What do you think is important?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Joe's hand stilled, his thumb tracing lazy circles on her thigh. "Well, I think taking care of yourself is pretty high on the list." His eyes never left hers, the intensity of his gaze making her feel both exposed and desired. "And maybe," he paused, his smile growing, "finding someone who enjoys taking care of you too."

Chelsea's breathing grew shallower, her eyes flicking to his hand, then back to his face. She knew what he was implying, and it was both thrilling and terrifying. "We're married, Joe," she reminded him, her voice strained.

Joe shrugged, his thumb continuing its tantalizing dance. "Doesn't mean we can't take care of each other."

Chelsea's resolve was wavering, the heat of his touch spreading through her like wildfire. She set her glass down on a duplicate coaster, her hand trembling slightly. "Joe..." she began, unsure of what to say next.

He leaned in even closer, his breath warm against her ear. "No one has to know," he whispered. "We can keep it our little secret." His hand inched higher, and she could feel the heat of his palm through the material of her shorts. "Tell me you don't want this."

Her eyes fluttered shut, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to imagine a life where she could be with Joe, free from the shackles of her unfulfilling marriage. But reality crashed back down on her, and she took a deep breath, steeling herself. "We can't," she said firmly, moving his hand away. "We're married to other people, and we have to respect that."

Joe leaned back, his smile fading into a more serious expression. "I know," he said, his voice softer. "But I also know that sometimes, you need more than what you have."

Chelsea sighed, unable to deny the truth of his words. "Fuck," she whispered, feeling the weight of the unspoken agreement between them. They sat there for a moment, the air thick with unspoken desires.

Then she leaned in, her lips a breath away from his. "Fuck me," she murmured, her voice thick with need. "Here. Now."

Joe didn't need any more encouragement. He stood, pulling Chelsea to her feet, their bodies colliding in a frenzied kiss. His hands roamed her body, and she moaned into his mouth, feeling alive in a way she hadn't in years. They stumbled through the living room, knocking over a vase in their haste. Chelsea didn't care. All she could focus on was the heat of Joe's touch and the promise of the pleasure he offered.

They fell onto the couch, a tangle of limbs and need. Joe's hands were everywhere, pulling her tank top over her head and unhooking her bra with deft fingers. Chelsea's own hands were equally busy, her nails trailed down his back, feeling the power beneath his shirt. They were like starving lovers, desperate to devour each other, their clothes flying off in a frenzy of passion.

The couch creaked under their weight as Joe positioned himself over her, his erection pressing against her thigh. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him closer. His kisses grew more demanding as he kissed a trail down her neck, making her arch her back in response. His teeth grazed the sensitive skin of her collarbone, eliciting a gasp. The feel of his stubble against her skin was exhilarating, opposing the sleek smoothness she was used to with Terrence.

Chelsea reached down and fumbled with his athletic shorts, her heart racing. The fabric slid down his hips, revealing his hardened length concealed under his boxer briefs. She took him in her hand, stroking him gently. Joe groaned, his eyes closing as he felt her touch. His own hand found her center, and she was wet and ready for him. He teased her with his fingers, exploring her folds and finding her clit. She moaned, pushing herself into his hand, eager for more.

With a growl, Joe kissed her again, his tongue claiming her mouth as he entered her. Chelsea's eyes widened with pleasure, her body responding to him in ways it hadn't for Terrence in so long. He began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful. The couch protested with every movement, but the sound was lost in their muffled cries and gasps. Chelsea's breasts bounced with the rhythm, her nipples tight and sensitive. Joe's eyes were locked on hers, the intensity in them making her feel like the only woman in the world.

The room spun as Chelsea moaned out at the feeling of the stretch. She raked her nails down his back, urging him on. He responded, his strokes growing more erratic and his breathing more ragged. The friction between them was electric, each movement sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body. She willed him closer, pulling her into her sweet heat, as if wanting to embed his skin onto hers.

"Wait, do you have a condom?" Chelsea managed to ask breathlessly, the realization hitting her like a cold shower. Joe paused, looking surprised for a moment before nodding and reaching for his discarded pants. He fished out a foil packet from his wallet and tore it open with his teeth, sliding it onto himself with an efficiency that spoke of experience.

She couldn't bring herself to think too hard about the implications of Joe carrying a condom at the ready. Instead, she focused on the feeling of him sheathing himself and sinking back into her. The sensation was exquisite, filling a void she hadn't even realized existed. They moved together, their bodies syncing in a way she had thought was reserved for movies and romance novels. The passion between them was intoxicating, the air thick with desire.

Sweat glistened on their skin as Joe picked up the pace. Chelsea's moans grew louder, and she could feel herself teetering on the edge of a climax she hadn't experienced in years. Her eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure built, her toes curling into the plush rug beneath them. When it finally crashed over her, she called out his name, her voice echoing in the quiet room. Joe followed shortly after, his hips stuttering as he emptied himself into the latex barrier.

Chelsea's body felt like jelly as Joe pulled out and they both lay panting on the couch, their clothes in disarray. The moment of passion hovered over them like a cloud, leaving a heavy silence in its wake. Chelsea's mind raced as she stared at the ceiling, trying to comprehend what they had just done. The weight of their actions settled on her shoulders, but she couldn't deny the satisfaction that coursed through her veins.

They both knew they had crossed a line, and the guilt began to creep in. Chelsea sat up, smoothing her hair before reaching down to pull her underwear back up her shapely legs. She searched Joe's eyes for a sign of what was to come, but all she found was a mirror to her own tumultuous emotions. He stood and offered her his hand, helping her to her feet. They were silent as they redressed, the sound of fabric rustling and their hearts beating loudly in the quiet.

A notification pinged, echoing through the tense space. Chelsea's phone vibrated on the coffee table, and she reached for it almost instinctively. It was a message from Terrence, checking in on her evening. The irony wasn't lost on her as she typed out a quick response, playing the role of the devoted wife. Joe leaned against the arm of the couch, watching her with a mix of satisfaction and something else she couldn't quite place. His gaze was intense, his eyes dark with lust that hadn't fully subsided.

"We should probably talk," Joe said, his voice low and serious, breaking the silence that had enveloped the room.

Chelsea's head shook from side to side, her mind racing with the gravity of their actions. "What is there to talk about?" she replied, her voice thick with emotion. "We both know this can't go anywhere. We are married, Joe."

Joe's eyes searched hers for understanding. "I know, Chelsea. But I can't ignore this connection. And I don't think you can either."

"But we have to," Chelsea insisted, her voice trembling as she tried to convince herself more than him. She knew the rules of their social circles, the expectations of their families. A scandal like this would ruin everything they'd worked so hard to build. She stepped away, creating a physical distance between them as she tried to reconstruct the walls she'd allowed to crumble.

"I don't know what your marriage is like," Joe began, his voice gentle yet firm, "but I know mine hasn't been the same in a long time." His eyes searched hers, looking for a flicker of understanding. "And something tells me you're not exactly thrilled with yours either."

Chelsea's heart thudded in her chest as she took in his words. The truth in them resonated deep within her, making it difficult to maintain her stance. She knew he wasn't wrong, but admitting it aloud was another matter entirely. "It's complicated," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "I can't just throw away everything I have with Terrence."

Joe nodded, his expression understanding. "I'm not asking you to," he assured her. "But I'm also not going to pretend that what just happened didn't mean something." He took a step closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush her palm to her warm cheek. "I want to see you again, Chelsea. I want to explore this—whatever it is—between us."

The warmth of his touch sent a shiver down her spine, and for a brief moment, she allowed herself to lean into it. She closed her eyes, feeling the weight of their situation pressing down on her. When she opened them, she found Joe's gaze still fixed on her, filled with a determination that she hadn't seen before. "Joe, we can't," she said, her voice a barely-there whisper. "This isn't right."

"I know," Joe replied, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheekbone. "But sometimes, things that aren't right feel incredibly right." His hand dropped, and he took a step back, giving her the space she needed to breathe. "Look, I'm not asking you to leave Terrence or for us to run away together. But we both know we can't keep pretending we don't feel something. If we can find a way to do this without hurting anyone, I think we owe it to ourselves to see where it goes."

Chelsea took a deep breath, her mind racing. The thought of being with Joe, of feeling alive again in a way she hadn't in years, was tempting beyond measure. But she was also a woman of integrity, and the thought of deceiving her husband and new friend was unbearable. She searched Joe's eyes, looking for any hint of doubt or insincerity. What she found instead was a man who was lost, just as she was, seeking solace in a connection that transcended their stagnant marriages.

"I think you should leave," Chelsea said finally, her voice trembling with the effort it took to keep her emotions in check. "I'm sorry, Joe, but we can't do this again. It's not fair to either of them."

Joe nodded, his expression a mix of understanding and disappointment. He leaned in and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Okay," he murmured, "but you know where to find me if you change your mind." With a sigh, he pulled back, collected himself, and walked out the door. For a moment she watched him go, the ache in her chest growing with every step he took.

The days that followed were a tumultuous blend of guilt and longing. Chelsea threw herself into her work, burying herself in contracts and negotiations to keep her mind off Joe. But every time she saw his car pull into the driveway next door, her resolve wavered. The memory of their illicit encounter burned into her every thought, tempting her to abandon caution and explore the depths of their shared desire.

Terrence was increasingly more absent, a side effect of his new position that required frequent travel and long hours. Chelsea's mind wandered to Joe during the lonely nights, the quiet house a punishing reminder of the void in her life. Her fantasies grew more daring with each passing day, and she found herself craving the thrill of their clandestine meeting. She could practically smell Joe's cologne still. It was dark, musky, and filled her with a hunger that she had never felt with Terrence.

Work proved to be the only respite from the chaotic whirlwind of emotions Chelsea felt. Each day at the office was a battle to keep her thoughts from drifting to Joe, the way his eyes had lit up when they talked, the warmth of his touch, and the raw passion that had overtaken them that night. Her interactions with Gianna had become that much more painful, knowing she was hiding such a massive secret from her friend. The weight of their affair grew heavier with every shared smile or casual wave between their houses.

Chelsea couldn't help the scoff that escaped her as she read through the loophole-ridden contract displayed on her computer screen. The office had been buzzing as usual, the Monday morning rush bringing in a wave of new cases and clients. With Terrence being so busy with his new role, she had logged more hours in, catching the attention of a senior partner at the firm. He had, not so subtly, hinted at a promotion to junior partner on the horizon if she kept up her current pace.

So she dove head first into her work, the pile of legal documents becoming a welcome distraction from the tempest of guilt and desire that swirled within her. Her days grew longer, her nights lonelier, and with each passing hour, the walls she had built around her heart began to crumble.

Months ago she had known things with Terrence had grown stale, but now, with Joe's presence a constant reminder of what she was missing, the cracks in their marriage had become a chasm. The weight of her secret grew heavier with every encounter, yet she couldn't bring herself to confess.

Part of her knew that she was reluctant to confess because she was holding onto a bit of hope that things would change. That the infatuation she once held for the older, charming medical student would return. That the man who had swept her off her feet and promised her the world would remember that they had once been each other's everything. But with each passing day, she realized that hope was fading into the shadows of her reality.

If she was being honest with herself, the most disheartening part of her marriage was the fact that she couldn't tell if Terrence had noticed the change in her. His work kept him away more and more, and when he was home, it was as if he couldn't be bothered to see her, blind to the tumultuous emotions she wrestled with.

Maybe it hurt her so much because she knew he wasn't entirely oblivious. There were moments when she'd catch him looking at her with a hint of longing in his eyes, as if he knew she was slipping away but was too proud to ask why. There were others still when he would attempt to reconnect with her, hinting at their former passion with gentle touches and whispers. But it was only ever through sex that he seemed to try to bridge the gap between them, and even that had grown mechanical and forced.

The ringing of the office phone cut through her focus and Chelsea found herself eager to escape the claustrophobic walls of her thoughts. The caller ID revealed the incoming call from the reception's desk. "This is Chelsea Brooks," she answered in her professional tone, hoping it was a new client or an emergency that could occupy her mind and free her from the spiraling thoughts of her personal life.

The receptionist's voice was smooth, unknowing even, "Mrs. Brooks, there's a Mr. Joe Burrow here to see you. He said it's important and that he won't take up much of your time."

Chelsea's heart skipped a beat. She had told Joe to stay away, yet here he was, barging into her workplace like he had every right to be there. "Tell him I'm busy," she instructed firmly, trying to keep her cool.

The receptionist's voice returned a moment later, "Mr. Burrow insists it's urgent, Mrs. Brooks. He says he'll wait if you're busy."

Chelsea sighed, her hand tightening around the phone. She couldn't risk a scene at work. Not with Joe. "Send him in," she said, resigned to the inevitable.

Joe entered her office with the same confidence he had that day in her kitchen, his tall frame and broad shoulders seemingly swallowing the space. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her squirm in her chair. His tailored suit hugged his body in all the right places, reminding her of the power she felt when he was inside her.

"I need to talk to you," he said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.

Chelsea took a deep breath, her mind racing with a hundred different ways to tell him that this couldn't continue. She had to end it before it destroyed everything she had worked so hard to build. "Joe, what are you doing here?" she asked, trying to keep the tremor from her voice.

He stepped closer to her desk, his eyes glued to hers. "Chelsea, I can't stop thinking about you," he said, his voice a mix of frustration and need.

Her chest tightened. She knew she should be firm, but the raw desire in his words made it difficult. "Joe, we agreed..." she started, but he cut her off.

"I know what we agreed," he said, his voice gruff with passion. "But I can't help it. When I see you with Terrence, it kills me. You deserve more than what he's giving you."

Chelsea felt the heat of his words, the truth of them burning through her resolve like a hot knife through butter. She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to respond. "What about Gianna? Do you think this is what she deserves? For you to be here, showing up at my office, telling me you can't stop thinking about me?"

Joe took a step closer, his hands gripping the edge of the desk. "Gianna and I have our own issues, Chelsea. You know that. And I don't expect you to fix them. But I can't ignore what we have either. I can't let this go without knowing if there's something more to it."

Chelsea felt the weight of his gaze, the warmth of his body invading her space. The smell of his cologne, so different from Terrence's, was intoxicating. She wanted to lean into it, to let him take her again. But she knew she couldn't. Not here. Not now. "Joe, please," she whispered, her voice a plea for sanity. "Don't make it harder on me than it already is."

He stepped back, his expression softening. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice a mix of regret and apology. "I didn't mean to pressure you. I just..." He trailed off, his hand raking through his hair. "I miss you."

Chelsea's eyes searched his, looking for any sign of insincerity, but all she saw was raw need. She stood up, the need to keep distance between them overwhelming. "Miss me?" she repeated, her voice barely a whisper. "Joe, we can't. We're married to other people."

Joe stepped closer, his hand reaching out to her. "I know, I know," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "But we can't ignore this either." His hand grazed her arm, sending a jolt of electricity through her body. "I need to feel you again, Chelsea."

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of doubt or regret, but all she found was a deep, burning passion that mirrored her own. The room felt smaller, the air charged with a tension that was palpable. The sound of her own breathing was loud in her ears, her pulse racing with every beat.

"You don't have to give me an answer right now. But Gianna's in Europe filming for the rest of the week, and I'd like to talk, really talk, over dinner. Just us," Joe said, his voice low and urgent. "Swing by around 8, I'll cook. It'll just be us, no expectations, no pressure."

Chelsea hesitated, Joe's gaze holding hers. The room seemed to spin around them, and for a moment, it was as if they were the only two people in the world. She knew she should say no, that she should put a stop to this dangerous dance before it spiraled out of control. But the memory of his touch, the way he made her feel alive, was too strong.

As she opened her mouth to speak, Joe stepped back, giving her space. "Think about it," he said gently. "I'll be waiting for you, whether you come tonight or not."

The rest of the day was a blur for Chelsea. Her mind raced with thoughts of Joe, their passionate encounters, and the life she had built with Terrence. She tried to focus on work, but her mind kept wandering. She knew that going to Joe's tonight was playing with fire, but she also knew that she was already burned. The flame between them had never truly been extinguished, and she was drawn to it like a moth to a candle.

When 8 PM rolled around, Chelsea found herself standing in front of Joe's house, her hand hovering over the doorbell. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart. This was wrong, she thought. But then she remembered the emptiness she felt in her marriage, the lack of connection with Terrence, and the way Joe looked at her - like she was the only person in the world that mattered. She pushed the button and waited, her heart hammering in her chest. No going back now.

Joe answered the door, looking surprised yet pleased to see her. He was dressed casually, his shirt sleeves rolled up, exposing his muscular forearms. Chelsea felt a warmth spread through her body as she took in the sight of him. "I wasn't sure you'd come," he said, stepping aside to let her in. The house was filled with the aroma of something delicious cooking, and Chelsea's stomach rumbled in response.

They sat in the cozy dining room, the candlelight flickering across their faces. The dinner was simple yet exquisite, a far cry from the fancy meals they'd shared before. As they ate, Chelsea felt a sense of ease she hadn't experienced in months, a comfort that was intoxicating. The conversation flowed effortlessly, touching on their hopes, fears, and the paths that had led them to this moment.

For the first time in a long time, she laughed—truly laughed—at a man's jokes. The candlelight danced in Joe's eyes as he told her a story from his college days when he played quarterback for the Ohio State University before giving it all up to support Gianna's culinary dreams. But as the night grew later, the conversation grew heavier, and the weight of their situation settled on the room.

"Why do you stay with him?" Joe asked, his voice low and intense. The question hung in the air like the last note of a heartbreaking melody. Chelsea looked down at her plate, her appetite lost amidst the swirl of emotions. She knew he was referring to Terrence, but the question was more about her than her husband. She took a sip of wine, buying time to formulate a response.

"Because it's what's expected," she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. "My family, Terrence's family... they've all imposed their idea of what our marriage should look like to be perfect." She paused, looking into Joe's eyes, searching for understanding. "And what we have... on paper, it is perfect. Successful careers, a beautiful home, the potential to have beautiful, intelligent children." She paused again, her voice thickening with emotion. "When I first met him, I just knew that we'd be here. I knew that I had to marry him. Because he was exactly what was expected of me, you know? From a good family, studying to be a neurosurgeon, it was all so destined. I couldn't say no."

Joe reached across the table, placing his hand on hers. His touch sent a jolt through her, a reminder of the passion that had been missing from her life for so long. "I gave up a lot to marry Gianna. My dreams, my career... all for her restaurant. With the show, it's like we're back in high school again. Everyone loves us, everyone thinks we're the perfect couple." He squeezed her hand gently. "But it's all just an act. I can't remember the last time we talked about anything real. Anything that wasn't about the restaurant or her show."

Chelsea felt a pang of guilt, recognizing the echo of her own discontent in Joe's words. "So why do you stay?" she asked, repeating his question from earlier.

Joe's gaze drifted to the floor, his thumb rubbing absentmindedly at the skin on her hand. "Honestly, I don't know what the alternative is," he said, his voice thick with unspoken pain. "We broke up for a year when we were in college because of my football dreams, and she was so angry with me. Our moms, they were devastated. They’ve had our lives planned out since we started dating in high school."

Chelsea nodded, her own heart aching for him.

"I've spent my whole adult life making Gianna happy," Joe continued, his eyes returning to meet hers. "I gave up football. I make appearances on her show. I work in finance because it helps keep her restaurant afloat. And now..." He trailed off, his voice heavy with the weight of his thoughts. "Some days I can't even tell if we're together because we truly love each other or because we're afraid of what everyone else would say."

Chelsea felt a knot in her stomach tighten. She knew the feeling all too well. Her own marriage had become a performance, a dance of appearances and expectations. "It's like you're trapped with no way out," she murmured, her voice filled with a sadness she hadn't realized she felt.

They sat in silence for a long moment, the weight of their confessions hanging in the air. Chelsea knew that she should pull her hand away, stand up, and leave. But she didn't. Instead, she leaned closer to Joe, her heart pounding in her chest.

"You wanna know something really fucked up?" Chelsea said, her voice laced with a mix of anger and desperation. Joe nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. "Sometimes, when I'm with Terrence, all I can think about is you. How you make me feel, the way you touch me, the way you look at me." She took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling. "And then I hate myself for it. I'm supposed to love him, to only think about him, to only want him. But I can't."

Joe leaned in closer, his eyes searching hers. "You don't have to justify how you feel, Chelsea," he murmured. "Gigi and I have been married for 11 years, and I feel like she barely knows me. But when you showed up on my doorstep, it was like the wind got knocked out of me. You're all I think about."

Their faces were so close that Chelsea could feel the warmth of his breath. "I don't want to hurt anyone," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "But I don't know how to stop wanting this."

Joe reached up and brushed a tear from her cheek with his thumb. "We don't have to decide anything right now," he said softly. "But we can't keep pretending."

Their eyes held for a moment longer before Joe leaned in and kissed her, gentle but urgent. Chelsea's body responded immediately, her hand curling into his shirt as she pulled him closer. The kiss grew deeper, their tongues dancing together as the heat between them ignited once more.

"Damn," Joe hissed under his breath, his hands holding Chelsea's face in his hands. His thumbs traced the line of her jaw as they broke the kiss, both of them panting. "I want you so badly."

"I know," she replied, her voice a ragged whisper. "This sucks."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of their confessions thick in the air. Chelsea's heart pounded in her chest, the guilt she'd been feeling for months now mixed with something new—relief. It felt like a dam had burst, releasing all the pent-up emotion she'd been holding onto.

"So what do we do now?" Joe asked, his voice hoarse.

Chelsea looked at him, her eyes filled with confusion and desire. "I don't know," she replied honestly. "I guess we have to figure out where this goes. If we can keep it just between us. Just for the time being."

Joe nodded, understanding the gravity of their situation. "Okay," he said. "But I need to tell you something." He took a deep breath, his gaze intense. "I'm falling for you, Chelsea. I'm falling for you so hard, I'm gonna do something stupid if I can't have you."

Chelsea's stomach flipped. She didn't know what to say. Her heart raced, torn between the love she had for Terrence and the fiery passion she felt for Joe. She took a moment, looking into his eyes, searching for answers. Finally, she spoke. "So have me."

The words hung in the air, and Joe leaned in again, capturing her mouth in a fierce kiss. His hands roamed down her body, pulling her closer until she was straddling him on the dining room chair. Chelsea moaned into his mouth, the sound echoing through the quiet house. They were lost in each other, their bodies moving in a dance of passion that had been building for so long.

As they kissed, their hands explored, pulling at clothes and unbuckling belts. The air was electric with tension, and the smell of their arousal filled the room. They managed to undress, Joe again reaching into his back pocket to retrieve a condom. They didn't bother moving to the couch this time; the chair was as good as anywhere. Chelsea wrapped her legs around him, and Joe pushed into her, both moaning desperately into each other's mouths.

The sex was raw and unbridled, fueled by their months of repressed desire. Each thrust sent waves of pleasure through Chelsea's body, and she could feel Joe's need growing more intense with every second. They moved together, their bodies in perfect sync, as if they'd been doing this for years. Joe gripped her hips tightly, guiding her movements, her hands tugged at his dark blonde hair, her nails digging into his scalp. There should have been a hint of shame in the way they were acting, but all Chelsea felt was a fierce craving that only Joe could satisfy.

The chair creaked under their weight, a symphony of passionate sounds that filled the room. Chelsea's moans grew louder, and she threw her head back, her breasts bouncing with each movement. Joe's eyes locked onto hers, and she felt a mix of power and vulnerability. They were risking everything for this fleeting moment, but neither of them could bring themselves to care. The pleasure was too intense, too all-consuming.

As their pace grew frantic, Chelsea felt the familiar tightness in her core that signaled an approaching climax. She bit down on Joe's shoulder to muffle her cries, her nails digging deeper into his skin. He grunted in response, his hands pressing harsh marks into her skin, as if he was trying to imprint every detail of this moment into his mind. The tension grew, coiling tightly inside her until she couldn't hold back any longer. She came hard, her body shuddering around him, and Joe followed soon after, burying his face in her neck and groaning out his release.

They remained intertwined, panting and trembling, for several moments. Unlike the first time, however, Chelsea allowed herself to bask in the afterglow. Joe's arms were strong and warm around her, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that soothed her racing heart. She leaned into him, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, feeling the sticky warmth of their combined sweat. The guilt was still there, lurking at the edges of her mind, but it was dulled by the overwhelming sense of satisfaction.

Joe eventually pulled out, and they both stood, his hands reaching for her in an effort to redress her, his touch gentle yet still searing into her skin. Chelsea felt a strange mix of emotions: excitement, fear, and a deep-seated longing for more of what they had just shared. She allowed him to fix her clothes, her eyes watching his strong features, searching for any sign of regret or hesitation. But Joe's gaze remained steady, filled with a tenderness that she hadn't seen from Terrence in a long time.

"Thank you," Chelsea murmured as Joe tucked her shirt back into her pants, his hands lingering for a brief moment longer than necessary. The words felt strange in her mouth, a blend of gratitude and apology for what they had just done. He nodded, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip before dropping away.

They stepped out of the dining room, the air thick with their combined scents of arousal and the faint aroma of their lunch. Joe walked her to the door, his hand resting on the small of her back. As he opened it, Chelsea took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. The sun had set, casting a soft glow over the neighborhood. The sight of the quiet, suburban street was a stark contrast to the tumultuous emotions raging within her.

"Wait," Joe said suddenly, his hand on her arm as she stepped onto the porch. "Come here. Gimme a kiss."

Chelsea's heart skipped a beat, but she couldn't resist. She leaned in, her body colliding with his, and kissed him with the same passion that had just consumed them. It was a kiss that spoke of all the things they hadn't yet said out loud—their magnetism, their fear, and the understanding that there was no going back.

As they parted, Joe whispered, "I'll see you soon, okay?" His words sent a shiver down her spine, and she nodded, not trusting her voice to respond. With one final squeeze of her hand, he stepped back, allowing her to leave. Chelsea walked home, her mind racing with thoughts of Joe and what had just transpired. She knew that she couldn't continue down this path without consequences, but she couldn't shake the feeling that she was already lost in it.

That evening, as Terrence returned from work, Chelsea tried to slip back into her position, fixing dinner and asking about his day. But every time she glanced at him, she saw Joe's face, heard his voice, felt his touch. The guilt was a heavy weight that she couldn't ignore, and she wondered if it would ever get easier. Terrence seemed oblivious, his eyes lighting up when she asked him about his surgeries and consultations, hoping it would keep him talking, and keep her from thinking about the man next door.

The next two months passed in a blur of work, stolen moments, secret lunch dates, and heated exchanges between Chelsea and Joe. Each time they saw each other, the tension grew thicker, a palpable electricity that neither could ignore. Chelsea found herself looking forward to the nights when Terrence was at the hospital, the quiet house providing the perfect cover for their clandestine meetings. They tried to keep things casual, but every touch, every whispered word, felt like a declaration of something much deeper.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the neighborhood, Chelsea received a text from Joe. "Can you come over?" it read. She felt a thrill of excitement and a stab of guilt. She knew she should say no, that she needed to end this before it spun further out of control, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Terrence was away, again, off to San Francisco for a medical conference, leaving her with an empty house and an empty bed.

Chelsea slipped into something less than business casual, opting for a short, floral sundress that hugged her curves in all the right places. She knew Joe liked it—he had told her so the last time they were together. With a quick spritz of perfume and a final look in the mirror, she stepped out of her house and into the mild summer evening. The air was thick with the scent of freshly cut grass and the distant sound of the Chen's grandchildren running around in their backyard. She walked over to Joe's, her heart racing with every step.

When she arrived, he greeted her at the door with a smoldering look that sent her stomach into a frenzy. His tie was loosened, the first two buttons of his shirt undone, showing a hint of the warm skin she had come to yearn for when she was away from him. "You look gorgeous," he murmured, pulling her into a kiss that was anything but friendly. Chelsea melted into him, letting his arms wrap around her and his hands roam her body. They stumbled into the living room, their kisses growing more desperate, as if they hadn't seen each other in years rather than mere days.

The dinner they had planned remained untouched, forgotten in the face of their overwhelming need for each other. They made their way upstairs, shedding their clothes along the way, leaving a trail of fabric that whispered their secrets through the quiet house. In the guest bedroom, Joe's large hands turned her around to face the mirror, pressing her against him as he kissed her neck. Chelsea could see their reflection, their bodies entwined, and the desire in their eyes as Joe's hands cupped her breasts, teasing her already hard nipples.

"I love watching you," Joe growled in her ear as his teeth grazed the sensitive skin of her neck. Chelsea's breath hitched as his hands slid down her waist and around to the zipper of her dress. She felt the heat of his arousal pressing against her, and she knew that she wanted him just as badly. They had been playing this dangerous game for months now, and the thrill of it had only grown stronger.

"You're so down bad, Joey," Chelsea teased, her voice breathless as she reached behind her to run her fingers through his hair. He smirked in the mirror, his eyes dark with need. The room was dimly lit, casting a warm glow over their bodies.

"Call me that again," Joe responded playfully, his hand slipping down to her ass and giving it a firm squeeze. Chelsea giggled, the sound a stark contrast to the heavy lust in the air.

"Joey?" Chelsea repeated with a grin, watching his expression in the mirror. "Is that what you want, baby?" She could feel his body tense with every word, his grip tightening slightly. "Want me to call you cute little names?"

"Chelsea," Joe groaned, his voice strained with restraint as he shook his head, blue eyes squeezing shut in concentration. "What do you want to call me?"

Chelsea leaned back into him, her eyes locked on their reflection. "Joey. Baby. Mine." The last word was a whisper, but it held the weight of their unspoken truth. He audibly swallowed, his hands moving to unzip her dress, letting it pool at her feet. She stepped out of it, leaving her in nothing but a matching set of skimpy, lace lingerie.

"Want me to be yours?" Joe murmured into her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

She giggled, spinning around to face him. "I want a lot of things," she said, her voice low and seductive. She reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for a deep, lingering kiss. His hands slid over her body, exploring every inch of her soft curves, as they kissed with an urgency that had been building for months.

The room was filled with the sound of their breathless whispers and the rustling of clothing as they undressed each other. The tension was palpable, a heady mix of excitement and guilt that only made the moment feel more forbidden and exhilarating. They tumbled onto the bed, their bodies entangled as they explored each other with hungry kisses and roaming hands. Chelsea felt alive in a way she hadn't in years, her skin tingling with every touch from Joe's rough, calloused hands.

"Get on your stomach, face the mirror, baby," Joe ordered, his voice thick with desire. Chelsea's heart skipped a beat as she obeyed, the coolness of the silk sheets against her skin making her shiver. Joe's strong hands gripped her hips, positioning her just right so that she could see their reflection in the full-length mirror. He slid into her from behind, their eyes locking as he began to thrust, slow and deep.

One hand steadied himself on the curve where her back met her ass, the other hand gripping the plush of her hip. She felt exposed, vulnerable, and completely owned in the best way possible. Each thrust was a declaration of his possession, a silent shout of possession echoing in the quiet room. Her cheek pressed into the cool silk as she watched their reflection. He looked so commanding, so powerful, and she looked blissed out of her mind. Her eyes met his in the mirror, the blue of his burning into hers, and she could see the raw hunger there. It was thrilling and terrifying all at once.

"Tell me you want this," Joe murmured in her ear, his breath hot and uneven. "Say it."

"I want this," Chelsea whispered, the words escaping her in a rush. "I want you."

Joe's eyes darkened, a smoldering intensity in his gaze that made Chelsea's knees wobble. He leaned over her, a thumb reaching underneath to tease her clit as he whispered, "Say it louder."

With a gasp, Chelsea's voice grew stronger, "I want you, Joe."

The room seemed to vibrate with the weight of her admission, the words echoing through the silent house like a confession whispered in a hallowed space. Joe's hand slipped away from her throbbing core, his touch replaced by the coolness of the air. He leaned back on his heels, pulling Chelsea up with him so she was fully exposed in front of the mirror, her body quivering with need. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his chest pressing against her back as he kissed her neck, his teeth grazing her skin. She could feel his arousal leaking into the condom, warming her insides as he pushed into her, setting a rhythm that mirrored the erratic beat of her heart.

Their eyes locked in the reflection, a silent dance of passion and power that neither could deny. Chelsea's hands gripped his forearms as Joe's hands roamed her body, teasing her nipples, pressing into her needy clit. Her moans grew louder, filling the room as Joe's strokes grew more demanding. She felt the tension coiling in her belly, her orgasm approaching, unstoppable and exhilarating.

"Fuck," she breathed, her voice a mix of pleasure and surprise. "You make me feel so good, baby. So, so good."

Joe's grip tightened on her hips, his movements growing more erratic as he neared his own release. "You're fuckin' everything to me, Chelsea," he grunted, his voice strained. "Look at yourself. Look at us."

Chelsea's eyes remained glued to the mirror, watching Joe's face contort with pleasure as he claimed her body. His words sent a shiver down her spine, a mix of euphoria and trepidation. This wasn't just a casual fling anymore; it was love wrapped in a dark, illicit embrace. They climaxed together, their bodies trembling and skin slick with sweat.

They collapsed onto the bed, both trying to catch their breaths, their hearts beating in a chaotic symphony. The silence was deafening, filled with the weight of their shared secret. Joe leaned back, his chest heaving, and for a moment, Chelsea allowed herself to believe that this was real, that they could somehow make this work.

"How do you manage to do that?" Chelsea panted, rolling onto her side to face Joe. "Every single time."

Joe smirked, tracing a finger along her jawline. "It's all you, darling," he said, his voice smoky. "You do this to me. You come around me and suddenly I'm like a man who hasn't had water in days."

Chelsea's eyes searched his, looking for a hint of regret or doubt, but she only found hunger and adoration. It was intoxicating, a feeling she hadn't experienced with Terrence in a long time. The guilt of their infidelity was a constant presence, but in the throes of passion, it was a distant echo. They lay there, their bodies entwined, basking in the aftermath of their love-making. The scent of their desire lingered in the air, a tangible reminder of their connection.

They tore away from each other reluctantly, Chelsea needing to make a quick run to pick up dinner before Terrence returned from his shift. As she slipped into her clothes, Joe watched her with a sense of longing that made her heart ache. They'd agreed to keep this between them, but the cracks in their façade were starting to show.

"I'll text you later," Chelsea murmured, kissing him softly before slipping out the door. The pout on his lips almost drew her back in, his blue eyes clouded over with sadness as she left. She stepped into the cool evening air, trying to ignore the feeling that she was leaving a part of herself behind.

Her mind raced as she drove to a local Italian spot. How had it come to this? She'd never been the type to cheat, had never even thought about it. Yet here she was, carrying the weight of a love affair she didn't know how to end. Her phone buzzed with a message from Joe, a simple "I miss you already," that sent a warmth through her chest she hadn't felt in years. She replied with, "I'll see you soon. Promise," and forced herself to focus on the mundane task of picking up dinner.

When she got home, Terrence was already there, the smell of antiseptic lingering. He greeted her with a squeeze to her arm and took the bag of food from her hand. As they sat down to eat, that pesky sense of apathy spread through her chest. She didn't want to be here, with him, going through the motions of a loveless marriage. Her thoughts drifted back to Joe, and she felt a pang of regret for what she'd left behind.

"Did you hear me?" Terrence's voice pulled Chelsea back to reality. He was looking at her expectantly, a question hanging in the air. She realized she'd been lost in thought, her eyes glazed over, staring into the distance.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" she replied, snapping out of her Joe-induced trance.

Terrence raised an eyebrow, looking at her with a mix of concern and annoyance. "I don't know why I bother sometimes," he muttered under his breath. "I said I might be promoted to head of the Neurosurgery department. It's longer hours, but that's why we moved here. So we can both achieve our dreams."

Chelsea's eyebrows furrowed, an unsavory sense of irony coating her tongue as she responded, "More hours? Terrence you worked 90 hours last week, how many more can you possibly take on?"

"It's what I have to do to be the best," he said, noticing the weariness in her voice. "What about you? Any big cases coming up?"

"Don't change the subject on me, Terrence. How effective could you possibly be when you're working almost 100 hours a week?" Chelsea retorted, her voice laced with a hint of exasperation. She had been trying to bring this up for months, but he always had a new excuse or a new goal to pursue. She was never her husband's priority.

Terrence sighed heavily, his eyes searching hers for a brief moment before he turned away to grab a beer from the fridge. "You know I have to make my mark," he said, his back to her. "It takes hard work to be the best."

Chelsea felt a knot form in her stomach as she watched him, the coldness in her marriage starkly highlighted against the heat of her secret affair with Joe. "Yeah, I know," she murmured, trying to push down the resentment bubbling up. "But you're never home. You don't eat well, you don't sleep enough, and you're always stressed. That's not good for you and it's not good for your patients. What's the point of being the best if you can't even enjoy it?"

Terrence paused, his hand hovering over the fridge handle. He looked at her, his expression unreadable. "You don't get it, do you, Chelsea?" he said finally. "This isn't just about me. It's about our legacy, what we leave behind."

Chelsea rolled her eyes, feeling a surge of anger. "Oh, please. Legacy, huh? You know what our legacy is looking like right now? A tired, burnt-out doctor with a lonely, lawyer wife. Is that really what you want?" Terrence didn't answer, instead popping the cap on his beer and taking a long gulp.

"Does everything have to be about you, Chelsea?" Terrence said, his voice tight with frustration. "If you had a real, life or death job, maybe you'd understand. But you go drinking with celebrities and throw parties when someone signs their name on a dotted line. You don't know what real work is, Chelsea."

The room grew colder with each word, and Chelsea felt a sting of anger. She had worked hard to get where she was in the field, and she wasn't about to let him belittle her. "I'll tell you what's real work," she shot back, her voice rising. "It's trying to keep a marriage afloat when my husband is more in love with his career than he is with me. It's real work pretending to be satisfied with a man who can't even bother to make time for me! It's real work covering for you when your mother calls me every afternoon asking why you haven't spoken to her in a month!"

Terrence slammed the beer bottle on the counter, the sound echoing through the kitchen. "You think this is easy for me?" he yelled. "I'm trying to make a difference here, trying to be more than just another man with a fancy title! I'm doing this for you, Chelsea. For us!"

Chelsea's eyes narrowed, and she stepped closer to him. "Don't you dare say you're doing this for us. You're doing this for yourself and your ego! You haven't thought of me since we left our honeymoon. As a matter of fact, Terrence, tell me something. What's the name of my firm?"

Terrence's jaw tightened as he stared at her, unable to answer. The silence between them was deafening.

Chelsea took a deep breath, her chest heaving as her eyes began to cloud with tears. "Do you know what's pathetic?" she whispered, her voice shaking with emotion. "It's that I can't even be mad at you for not knowing the name of my firm. Because I've become so used to being second best in your eyes. I've accepted that your work comes first. That your success has to come at the cost of our marriage."

Terrence looked at her, his expression a mix of shock and pain. "Chelsea," he started, reaching out to touch her arm.

"Don't," she said, jerking away. "Don't touch me." She turned away from him, her eyes landing on the fridge, where their wedding photo stared back at her. They looked so happy then, so full of hope and promise. Now, it felt like a lie.

Terrence's silence was deafening as he took in her words. He knew she was unhappy, but he had always thought it was just a phase. That her passion would return once the dust of their new life in Cincinnati had settled. But now, hearing it laid out so starkly, he was forced to confront the truth.

"Chelsea," he finally managed, his voice thick with regret. "You know I love you. You're everything to me."

"No, I'm not, Terrence." she said firmly, her voice steadying. "If I was, you'd know what I do for a living. You'd know that my work isn't 'drinking with celebrities', you'd know that I was just going through the motions. That every day feels like I'm drowning in a sea of your ambition."

He took a step towards her, but she held up her hand. "Don't. You don't get to fix this with your charm. This isn't just about tonight."

Terrence stopped in his tracks, the weight of his wife's words sinking in. "If that's what you think of me, what could I possibly do to change your mind, huh? After everything I've given you?"

Chelsea faced him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I'm not doing this with you, Terrence. After a full day of drinking with celebrities, I'm exhausted." Her voice dripped with sarcasm as she turned on her heels and stomped out of the kitchen, leaving Terrence standing there, feeling more lost than ever before.

The days that followed were tense and fraught with unspoken tension. Terrence tried to make amends, bringing her flowers—notably, the wrong ones—and making grand romantic gestures, but Chelsea remained distant, her heart and mind elsewhere. Her thoughts swirled with Joe's touch, his whispers, and the way he looked at her—like she was the only person in the world that mattered. At work, she threw herself into her cases, finding refuge in the cutthroat world where the only battles she could control were the ones she waged on paper.

When Terrence announced that Joe invited him, and a few of the other guys in the neighborhood, to go golfing the next weekend, Chelsea couldn't even bring herself to care.

The day of the golf trip dawned bright and early. Terrence was practically bouncing out the door, eager to bond with his new neighbor and escape the suffocating silence that had settled over their marriage. Chelsea watched him go with a mix of resentment and relief. As the door clicked shut behind him, she felt the weight of their unresolved issues crash down on her, but she quickly shoved the thoughts aside, focusing instead on her plans to spend the day with her friends, popcorn and wine.

The green of the gold course stretched out before them, the crisp spring air carrying the faint scent of freshly trimmed grass. Terrence felt a strange sense of relief as he swung his club, sending the small white ball soaring into the sky. The conversation between the men was light, mostly about their jobs and the neighborhood gossip. Joe was completely carefree, his Cartier sunglasses reflecting the sun's rays. Terrence couldn't help but feel a twinge of envy at how relaxed he looked, especially knowing that Joe's job required so much less of him than his own demanding career.

"Chelsea's been on my ass about my hours this past week," Terrence complained, taking a sip from his water bottle as they approached the next hole. "It's like she thinks I don't give a shit about our marriage."

Joe's grip tightened around his golf club, a smug smile playing on his lips. "Well, you know what they say, work is the best form of birth control," he quipped, watching Terrence's face fall. "But in all seriousness, man, marriage isn't easy. Sometimes you've got to make sacrifices for the girl you love."

Terrence nodded, his mind racing with thoughts of Chelsea. "Yeah, I know. I just... I don't know. The last time we had sex, she straight up couldn't orgasm. It's like she's not even into it anymore." He took a swing, the ball soaring through the air in a perfect arc before landing on the green.

Bryan, one of the other golfers, chuckled cruelly. "Maybe she's taking care of herself, man." The lewd remark hung in the air, gaining a few snickers from the group.

Terrence shook his head grumbling, "Chelsea? Nah, she's too... I don't know, too classy for that." He took a deep breath and downed the rest of his water, reaching in the cooler for a beer instead.

Joe felt a strange mix of guilt and triumph at Terrence's words. "Classy or not, everyone has needs," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. Inside, his mind reeled with the memory of Chelsea's cries of pleasure just a few nights ago. He knew all too well the passion she kept hidden from her husband.

"See, if that was me, Chelsea wouldn't be able to think about leaving the bedroom. They'd have to do a wellness check on her to see if she was alright," Chris, another one of the golfers, chimed in, slapping Terrence on the back.

Terrence's eyes narrowed slightly, the conversation suddenly taking a turn he wasn't expecting. "I know, I know." He took a sip of his beer. "We used to be like that when Chelsea was in college." He chuckled, but Joe didn't miss the hint of sadness in his voice. It was the same sadness Chelsea had confessed to feeling in their own relationship.

"Maybe it's just stress," Joe offered, trying to keep his tone light despite the dark thoughts swirling in his head. "The move, the new job, all that can really mess with someone's head." He knew it wasn't just stress. He had felt it in her touch, heard it in her moans when they were together. The desperation and craving for something more.

"Personally, I don't think I've ever seen you even think about tapping that ass," Bryan, one of Terrence's golfing buddies, chimed in, nudging Terrence with a laugh. "Not even a kiss. Terrence, you gotta do better."

Joe's jaw clenched, the comment hitting too close to home. He shot a warning glare at Bryan, who shrugged it off, oblivious to the tension he had just stirred up. Chris, the more foul-mouthed of the two spoke up again, "I'm telling you, if she was mine, she'd be begging for it every night."

Terrence's smile didn't quite reach his eyes as he replied, "Alright, alright. Remember this is my wife we're talkin' about? Joe, you got any advice? Gianna's always skipping around all happy, I'm sure you've got some moves."

Joe's heart thumped in his chest. He felt like he was being goaded, and his mind raced with the desire to reveal all. Instead, he took a deep breath and replied, "Nah, man. I've only ever been with Gianna long-term, so I wouldn't know what to tell you." The lie tasted bitter on his tongue, but he knew the truth was too explosive to share.

The golf game continued, but Joe's mind was elsewhere. He couldn't help but think of the times Chelsea had whispered sweet nothings in his ear, her nails digging into his skin as she climaxed. The way she looked at him with a mix of adoration and hunger was something Terrence would never know. Despite the guilt, Joe felt alive in a way he hadn't in years.

Back at the office, Chelsea was busy wrapping up a case when her phone buzzed with a text from Joe. "You have fans," it read. She raised an eyebrow, not quite understanding the context. He followed up with a, "Your husband's golf buddies talked about you a lot today." A chill ran down her spine, and she felt a strange mix of anger and arousal. She texted back, "What did they say?"

Joe's response was succinct. "Doesn't matter. They'll never get to hear your pretty voice moan for my cock." The possessive undertone was unmistakable, sending a jolt of excitement through Chelsea's body. She quickly put her phone away, trying to compose herself before her colleagues noticed her flustered state. She was torn between the thrill of Joe's claim and the fear of their secret being exposed.

Chelsea stepped out of her downtown office building, the cool breeze of Cincinnati's early autumn brushing against her cheeks. The scent of freshly baked bread from the bakery across the street filled her nose, momentarily distracting her from the mountain of work emails waiting for her attention. She took a deep breath, letting the aroma mingle with the exhaust from the passing cars. It was a peculiar blend, but somehow Cincinnati was starting to feel more and more like home.

Though she was sure Joe had a lot to do with that, Chelsea couldn't ignore the comfort she felt when she thought of the city now. The two of them had been sneaking around for nearly five months, finding moments of stolen intimacy amidst their chaotic schedules. They had become experts at choosing the most discreet locations, the quietest times of the day, and the most unassuming town cars to keep their affair under wraps. As she walked towards their usual spot, a cozy Italian restaurant tucked away from prying eyes, Chelsea felt her heart race in anticipation of their lunch date.

Once a week, Chelsea and Joe met for lunch at the Italian restaurant. The hostess knew them by name and always reserved the same booth at the back, the one with the slightly faded red velvet seats that had seen better days but somehow added to the intimate charm of their secret rendezvous. The restaurant was typically empty this time of day, with a disinterested college student working the register and a tired-looking, middle aged chef peeking out from the kitchen. A soft murmur of Italian jazz would play, providing a backdrop to their stolen conversations. By this point, Chelsea knew the rotation of songs almost by heart.

Joe was already waiting, his tall frame bent slightly over the menu he always pretended to need to read. He was stubborn, alternating between his usual Margherita pizza and the chicken parmesan sandwich, but Chelsea knew he had it all memorized by heart. She slid into the booth opposite him, her eyes lingering on the strong line of his jaw, the way his tie was just loose enough to show a hint of the collarbone she was sure had a fading love bite where the bone met his shoulder.

"Hey, you," Joe said, looking up with a smile that never failed to make her stomach flutter.

Chelsea returned his smile, sliding the menu aside as she delicately placed her purse on the seat beside her. "Hi," she whispered, her voice soft and warm. "How was your morning?"

Joe leaned back, his eyes scanning the room to ensure no one of importance was within earshot. "The same as always," he replied with a hint of weariness. "Just trying to keep up with the numbers and the egos."

Chelsea nodded sympathetically. She knew the type; the kind of people who thought the world revolved around their next big deal or their latest acquisition. "Wish I could make it easier for you," she said, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. Her wedding band felt heavy on her left ring finger, a constant reminder of the life she had chosen, or rather, the one that had chosen her.

Joe took her hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You do," he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation. "More than you know."

Their conversation today was different from their usual lightness. There was a weight in the air, a heaviness that neither of them could shake off. It was as if the walls of their secret hideaway had grown thin, threatening to expose them at any moment. Chelsea felt a knot form in her stomach as she wondered if Joe was feeling the same way she was: trapped in a life that didn't quite fit.

"I've been thinking," Joe began, his eyes searching hers. "About us, I mean."

The words hung in the air like a question unasked. Chelsea felt the knot in her stomach tighten. "What about us?" she prodded, her voice steady despite the tumult in her chest.

Joe took a deep breath, his thumb tracing circles on the back of her hand. "I can't help but wonder if things might've been different if we had waited, if we hadn't married so young." His eyes searched hers, looking for a glimmer of agreement or a spark of hope. "It's funny, I feel like a dumbass whenever I think that if I had just waited, I could've found you."

Chelsea felt the air thicken as the gravity of his words settled between them. The what-ifs of life had always been a silent companion to their secret affair, but today, they were speaking louder than ever. "I know," she murmured, her eyes dropping to the table. "I've been thinking about that too."

The waiter arrived, a young man with a crooked smile and a notepad at the ready. They ordered their usual, the routine comforting in its predictability. As he retreated, Joe leaned in closer, his voice a low rumble. "Did I tell you much about my family?"

Chelsea tilted her head, trying to recall any details beyond the fact that he had worked hard to support them. "Not really," she said, intrigued.

Joe's eyes took on a distant look as he spoke about his childhood in a small town in southeastern Ohio. His parents had been high school sweethearts, just like he and Gianna, but they had struggled to make ends meet. His father had coached at the junior college while his mother held down two jobs to keep their heads above water. He had two older brothers, both of whom had moved away to escape the shadow of their hometown's limitations.

"They had big dreams for me," Joe said, his voice thick with emotion. "They pushed me to do better, to be better."

Chelsea nodded, understanding the unspoken burden of parental expectations all too well. "And football was your way out?"

Joe's smile was bittersweet. "Yeah, it was. I was okay at it. Nothing special, I had a couple of offers but I didn't want to be too far from my parents or Gianna. So I chose Ohio State, thinking I'd keep playing, maybe make it to the NFL." His eyes grew darker with the memory. "But Gianna was already set on becoming a chef, and she had this opportunity in New York to work under a big name. I couldn't ask her to wait for me."

Their food arrived, the warm scents of cheese and marinara sauce briefly interrupting the flow of their conversation. They picked at their plates, the tension between them palpable. Chelsea listened intently, her heart aching for the sacrifices Joe had made. Her own family had mapped out her life from birth: the right schools, the right job, the right husband. Terrence had been the perfect package, but she had never felt like she had made the choice.

"So what happened?" she asked softly.

Joe took a bite of his pizza, the cheese stretching like an elastic band before breaking with a satisfying snap. "I quit football," he said, swallowing before continuing. "I figured if I couldn't have it all, I'd focus on making sure Gianna got what she wanted. I transferred to NYU to be with her. That's when I started getting serious about finance. I figured if I couldn't throw a ball for a living, I might as well find another way to make some real money."

The bitterness in his tone was unmistakable. Chelsea reached across the table, her hand resting gently on his forearm. "It wasn't a complete loss," she said, trying to ease the tension. "Look at you now, CFO of a Fortune 500 company. I'm sure your family's proud of you."

Joe nodded, but his eyes remained clouded. "They are," he admitted. "But it's not the same. I gave up something I loved for… for what? A marriage that feels more like a business deal every day?" He took a deep breath, his gaze drifting to the window where passersby walked in pairs, oblivious to the turmoil inside the restaurant. "Gianna's always been the star, you know? And I've just… I've just been her plus-one, the guy who writes the checks and makes sure she's happy."

Chelsea's heart twisted at the raw honesty in Joe's voice. She knew all too well the feeling of being an accessory to someone else's ambition. "You said you retired both yours and Gianna's parents, right? That's a big deal, Joe," she offered, trying to remind him of his worth beyond his marriage.

He nodded, taking another bite of his sandwich. "It is," he said, his voice devoid of the pride she knew should accompany such an achievement. "But it's like… I don't know. Like I've spent my whole life doing what everyone else wanted, and now…" His voice trailed off as he took a sip of his water, the ice cubes clinking against the glass. "I just don't know if I have anything left for myself."

Chelsea felt a pang of guilt for her part in adding to Joe's burdens. "What about you?" he asked, his gaze back on her. "What would you have done if you weren't married to Terrence?"

She took a moment to consider the question, the weight of the words sitting heavily on her tongue. "I don't think I've ever really considered any alternative, honestly," she said, her eyes meeting his. "My parents had my life mapped out for me from the day I was born. They picked out everything. The perfect name, the perfect schools, the perfect career, and of course, the perfect husband. If it wasn't Terrence, it would've been someone just like him."

Joe leaned back, his expression thoughtful. "You were pretty young when the two of you got seriou-"

"I was a sophomore in undergrad," Chelsea interrupted, the words spilling out like a confession. "Terrence was in medical school, already the golden boy of our families. He was charming, ambitious, same frat as my Dad, everything my parents wanted for me. They didn't even blink an eye when he proposed on my birthday less than a year after we met. It was like they had been waiting for it."

Joe nodded, understanding the weight of familial expectations. "And do you think you'd have chosen differently?" His eyes searched hers, looking for a glimmer of regret or perhaps a hint of a road not taken.

Chelsea's gaze fell to the breadsticks on the table, her mind racing back to those college days filled with hope and promise. "I don't know," she said finally. "Maybe. But by the time I realized I didn't love him the way they wanted me to, it was too late. I was standing at the altar, reciting vows I didn't even believe in. Just holding my breath, hoping someone would stand up and shout their objections."

Joe reached across the table and took her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "You can't change the past," he said gently. "But you can decide what you want for the future."

Chelsea nodded, her eyes filling with unshed tears. "I know," she said, her voice wavering. "It's just hard to imagine a life without Terrence, without the life my parents worked so hard to set up for me. Anytime I try to imagine something different, it feels like I'm betraying them, like I'm throwing it all away."

Joe squeezed her hand tighter. "What do you think you'd be doing if you weren't married to Terrence?"

Chelsea took a deep breath, her mind racing with possibilities. "I'd probably still be in law," she said after a moment. "But maybe I'd be dabbling in politics, like I always talked about in college. Or maybe I'd start my own firm, one that focused on helping people who couldn't afford representation."

Joe's eyes lit up with genuine interest. Pausing to think as he observed the way Chelsea's eyes sparkled with the thought of a life untethered from her current reality.

"What about you?" Chelsea asked, eager to shift the focus. "What would you be doing if you weren't married to Gianna?"

Joe's gaze grew distant, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I'd probably still be in finance," he said. "But I'd be traveling more, see the world." He chuckled, a sound that was a rare treat in their secret meetups. "But more importantly, I'd be taking chances, you know? Investing in little start-ups with potential instead of playing it safe."

Their conversation grew quieter, their food forgotten as they shared more of themselves than they ever had before. The walls of the restaurant seemed to close in around them, insulating them from the outside world and the lives they had left at the door.

"Joe," Chelsea began, her voice barely a whisper. "What do you want from this?" She searched his eyes, desperate for an answer that could give her clarity in the chaos of their situation.

Joe took a moment to consider, his thumb still tracing circles on her hand. "I want to be happy," he said finally. "I want what everyone wants, I guess. To love and be loved in return. To feel like I'm living my own life."

The words hung in the air like a confession, and for a moment, Chelsea felt like she could see right through to his soul. "What does that mean for us?" she asked, her voice barely audible above the clinking of silverware and the muffled conversations of other patrons.

Joe took a deep breath, his grip on her hand tightening. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I don't want you to feel trapped, Chelsea. I want you to be able to explore those things you've always talked about. If we can help each other find happiness, maybe that's enough for now."

Chelsea felt a tear slip down her cheek. "It's just…" she began, her voice cracking. "I've never felt like I could disappoint my family. They've given me so much, and I owe them so much."

Joe leaned in, his voice gentle. "But what about what you owe to yourself?"

Chelsea's eyes searched his, finding a reflection of the same yearning she felt. "I just don't know how to do that without letting them down," she confessed. "My identity is so tied up in being the successful daughter, the perfect wife. What happens when I'm just… Chelsea?"

Joe's smile was kind, understanding. "You're more than that already," he said. "But I get it. Sometimes it feels like we're all just playing roles, huh?"

The waiter refilled their water glasses, oblivious to the gravity of the conversation happening in the dimly lit corner booth. Chelsea nodded, taking a sip to gather her thoughts. "To this day, I slip up and forget that I'm 'Mrs. Brooks' and not 'Miss Hayes'." She chuckled sadly. "It's like I'm watching someone who looks like me live a life I didn't choose."

Joe leaned in closer, his voice low and earnest. "I was just Joey Burrow, the kid who could throw a football pretty good. But then I became 'Gianna's husband' and I wonder if I lost myself in that transition." His eyes searched hers, looking for understanding. "I know we can't change who we are or where we come from, but maybe we can start making choices that feel more like us."

Chelsea nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. "It's just…" she began, her voice trailing off. "What if we make the wrong choice?"

Joe's expression grew solemn. "There's no way to know," he said. "But I'd rather live with the regret of a risk taken than the regret of a life never lived. Gianna and I haven't been happy for a long time. I keep telling myself it's for the sake of stability, for Gianna's brand, but the truth is, I've been living for her happiness, not my own." He took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving hers. "I'm tired of pretending."

Chelsea felt a lump form in her throat. The honesty in Joe's voice was stark and raw, mirroring her own thoughts. "Terrence still doesn't know what it is I do all day," she said, her voice a mere whisper. "He's so caught up in his own world, he doesn't see me. I'm just another trophy for him to show off to his colleagues and family."

Joe nodded, his gaze never wavering from hers. "We both know what it's like to be someone else's accessory." He took another deep breath, as if bracing himself for what he was about to say next. "But I'm not going to lie to you, Chels. Being with you…it's the first time in a long time I've felt like myself again. It's refreshing. You're refreshing."

Chelsea felt a warmth spread through her chest, a warmth that had nothing to do with the room's temperature. "I feel the same way," she confessed.

"Then maybe," Joe began, his voice hopeful, "we could start making choices that lead to us being happy. Together."

Chelsea's heart skipped a beat, the implication of his words sinking in. The thought of being with Joe, openly and without fear of judgment, was both terrifying and exhilarating. She took a moment to process, her mind racing with the consequences and the potential joy that could come from such a choice.

"I've been holding off on saying this," Joe continued, reaching for his water after he quickly glanced at his watch. "But I love you. I know it's crazy, given the circumstances, but I think I have for a while now."

Chelsea's breath caught in her throat. Love? That was a word she hadn't dared to entertain in the context of their affair. She felt the weight of their secret pressing down on her, the fear of the consequences of admitting such a powerful emotion. But when she looked into Joe's eyes, she saw something that she hadn't seen in a very long time: genuine affection, untainted by duty or expectation.

"Joe," she said, her voice barely audible over the soft jazz playing in the background. "That's… I'm not sure how to respond to that."

Joe nodded, understanding the gravity of his confession. "You don't have to say it back," he said quickly. "I just wanted you to know. I need you to know that this isn't just about the physical stuff for me. You're more than that. You're the only one who gets it, who gets me."

The air grew thick with the unspoken words hanging between them. Chelsea felt the weight of his love like a warm blanket, comforting yet suffocating. She had never allowed herself to believe that someone could love her beyond her status or her marriage to Terrence. But Joe was different; he saw the real her, the woman buried beneath the layers of expectations and responsibilities.

"I… I love you too, Joe. I didn't know how to say it," Chelsea admitted, her voice trembling. The words felt strange on her lips, but also incredibly right. For the first time in years, she didn't feel like she was lying to herself or to someone else. "But I'm sure I do. You feel right."

Joe's smile grew, a warm light in the dim restaurant. He reached across the table and took both of her hands in his. "I know we're in a tough spot, Chelsea," he said, his voice earnest. "But I want us to find a way to be happy together. To build a life that's ours, not anyone else's."

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of doubt or hesitation. But all she saw was a man who had found something precious in her, something she hadn't realized she had lost until she saw it reflected in his gaze. Casting a quick glance around the empty restaurant, Chelsea leaned in, cupping Joe's face in her hands to kiss him. It was a soft, lingering kiss filled with a promise of a future she had never dared to dream of.

When they finally pulled apart, the silence was deafening. The realization of their confession settled over them like a warm blanket, both comforting and suffocating. "I need to get back to the office," Joe said, his voice husky with emotion.

Chelsea nodded, her eyes still locked on his. "Me too," she said, the gravity of their conversation still weighing heavily on her. They both knew that their lunch break was over, but the world outside the restaurant felt foreign and daunting.

They gathered their things and Joe helped her with her coat, his hand lingering for a moment longer than necessary on her arm. As they stepped out into the cold Cincinnati afternoon, the reality of their situation crashed down on them like a wave. They walked side by side, their hands brushing but not quite touching, the air between them charged with a tension that was no longer just sexual.

"I'll see you next week," Joe said, his voice a mix of hope and resignation. "It's about seven days too long, but I'll take what I can get."

Chelsea nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Seven days," she echoed, the number feeling both endless and insignificant. They stood outside the restaurant, the chilly breeze a stark contrast to the warmth they had shared inside.

"Yeah," Joe said, his eyes searching hers. "You'll text me when you get back to the firm?"

"I will," Chelsea promised, her hand reaching for her phone to ensure it was still there. The cold air stung her cheeks, reminding her of the world waiting outside their bubble. "And Joe…" she called out as he started to walk away. He turned back to her, the wind ruffling his dirty blonde hair. "Thank you."

Joe stopped in his tracks, his breath puffing out from his lips as he mouthed, "I love you," before turning back around. Chelsea watched him disappear into the crowd of people, feeling a pang of something akin to teenaged infatuation. As she walked towards her office, she couldn't shake the feeling that their lunch had irrevocably changed things. The weight of their confessions hung heavy in the air, a secret they both now had to carry.

The next month, Chelsea was whisked off to a work trip in Dayton. Her job required her to be there for a few days, and as much as she tried to focus on her work, her mind kept wandering back to Joe. She missed the way he touched her, the way he looked at her, the way he made her feel alive again. On the second night of her trip, she found herself in her hotel room, alone with nothing but room service and a bottle of wine for company. The silence was deafening, and she couldn't ignore the ache between her legs that Joe so effortlessly satisfied.

Manicured fingertips reached for her phone, tapping on Joe's contact with a sense of urgency. "Miss me?" he answered, his voice deep and smooth, like a fine whiskey. Chelsea bit her lip, her heart racing as she whispered into the phone, "I need to see you."

"Aren't you in Dayton this week?" Joe's voice held a hint of surprise.

"And?" Chelsea challenged, biting at her bottom lip. She could almost see the heave of his chest as he sighed through the phone. Suppressing a giggle, she waited for his response.

"Goddammit, Chelsea," Joe murmured, his voice thick with desire. "Send me the address, I'll be there in 45."

"Joey, it's an hour drive," Chelsea protested, her voice a blend of excitement and caution.

"I'll do it in 40, don't argue with me," Joe said firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation. "Just send me the damn address before I lose my mind."

The anticipation grew as Chelsea sent him the details, her heart hammering in her chest like a drumline. She took a quick shower to wash off the day's stress and slipped into a lazy pair of Calvin Kleins. The minutes ticked by like hours until finally, she heard the door to her hotel room click open. She took a deep breath and turned to face him, her eyes widening at the sight of Joe in a crisp suit, looking like a man on a mission.

"I came straight from work," Joe said, shutting the door behind him with a gentle click. He dropped his briefcase and shrugged off his suit jacket, revealing his broad shoulders and the muscular physique Chelsea craved. She stepped into his arms, and he kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth as if he'd been starving for her taste. Their kiss was desperate, hungry, and filled with the kind of passion that could never be contained within their marriages.

The room was suffocating with the scent of their desire as they tugged at each other's clothes, needing to feel skin on skin. Joe's hands were everywhere, tracing the contours of Chelsea's body with a familiarity that sent shivers down her spine. They stumbled backward to the bed, tearing away the barriers between them, leaving a trail of fabric scattered across the floor.

"So fuckin' needy for me, begging me to drive an hour just to fuck you?" Joe whispered in her ear as he pulled her closer, his hands cupping her ass as she wrapped her legs around his waist. Chelsea felt a thrill of arousal at his words, biting her lip to hold back a moan. He carried her to the bed and tossed her down onto the soft hotel comforter. He stepped back and took a moment to admire her, his eyes raking over her naked body as if she were a feast laid out just for him.

"Bless me," Chelsea murmured, her eyes locked on Joe's as he undid his tie with purposeful strokes. She watched as each button of his shirt came undone, revealing his chest, his abs, the V of muscle that pointed down to the bulge in his trousers. He stepped closer, kicking off his shoes and dropping his pants. He was already hard for her, and the sight made her wetter.

"You're so beautiful," Joe said, his voice thick with desire. He climbed onto the bed and claimed her mouth again, his hands roaming her body with a possessiveness that made her feel alive. He kissed her neck, her breasts, her stomach, and Chelsea arched her back, eager for his touch. His mouth found her clit, and she gasped as he flicked his tongue against it, sending waves of pleasure through her body.

Joe's skilled hands worked their magic as he brought her to the edge, her moans growing louder with each stroke. Chelsea's fingers tangled in his hair, urging him on, her hips bucking against his mouth. She felt herself falling apart, her orgasm building like a crescendo. And when it hit, she screamed his name, her body convulsing with pleasure.

He slid up her body and claimed her mouth in a bruising kiss, the taste of her own desire on his lips. Chelsea wrapped her legs around his waist, guiding him into her. He filled her completely, stretching her with his thickness. They moved together in a rhythm that was both familiar and new, a dance of passion and need that transcended their marriages. The sounds of their skin slapping together melded with their gasps and moans, echoing in the quiet hotel room.

It was uninhibited, raw, and absolutely everything Chelsea had been craving. With every thrust, Joe seemed to claim a piece of her she hadn't realized she had been holding back. She clawed at his back, her nails digging in as she matched his intensity. They moved as one, their breaths mingling in the air, their hearts beating a tempo of pure desire. The room was filled with the scent of their passion, the heat from their bodies raising the temperature of the space.

"I think you enjoy this too much," Joe murmured, his breath hot against Chelsea's ear as he drove into her.

"You think?" she quipped, her voice thick with sarcasm.

He smirked, his blue eyes piercing hers. "I know."

The truth of his words stung, but she didn't refute them. Instead, she pushed him down onto the bed, climbing on top of him and taking control. She set the pace now, her hips rolling and grinding against him, drawing out every delicious sensation. Joe's hands found her breasts, teasing and playing as she rode him, their eyes locked in a silent challenge.

"What? You want me to feel guilty about enjoying this?" Chelsea challenged, her voice low and husky as she rocked her hips against Joe's. "Want me to feel guilty—fuck, yes—about the way you get me so wet, so hot, so—" she gasped as he sank his teeth into the soft skin of her neck, "—so fucking desperate to feel you inside me?"

Joe's eyes darkened at her words, his grip on her hips tightening. "I could never ask you to feel guilty about that, baby. I know he isn't giving you what you need."

Chelsea moaned at his words, her hips moving faster as she neared another peak. "And her?" she panted, needing to hear him acknowledge it. "You ever fuck her like this?"

Joe's expression grew serious. "No, never." He reached up to cup her face, his thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. "I haven't touched her in months, baby. Not since I first saw you."

The confession sent a thrill through Chelsea's body, and she leaned down to kiss him hard, her tongue slipping into his mouth as she rode him with a newfound urgency. The truth was a heady aphrodisiac, making her feel even more alive and desired. She didn't want to think about the consequences or the pain they were causing. Right now, all that mattered was Joe's cock filling her up and the sound of their skin slapping together.

"I love you, Joey," Chelsea murmured against his lips, the words slipping out as he began to buck up into her.

He stilled beneath her, his eyes searching hers. "You can't just drop that shit, Chelsea," he breathed, his eyes fluttering shut as he attempted to hold off his climax. "You know what that does to me."

Chelsea felt a surge of power, her heart racing as she leaned back slightly to look down at him. "You're all I think about. I love you." Her words were like a drug, pushing him closer to the edge. He groaned, his hands clutching her hips, and she knew she had him.

"Fuck," Joe growled, his eyes snapping open. "I love you too. So much it scares me." His hands tightened on her hips, guiding her movements as he began to thrust up into her. The room was filled with their desperate moans and gasps, their bodies moving in a symphony of passion that neither of them had ever felt before.

Their lovemaking grew more intense, the emotions bubbling up inside of them fueling the fire between them. They were no longer just two people caught in a moment of passion; they were two souls confessing their love in the most primal of ways. Chelsea felt her orgasm building, her entire body tightening around Joe as he pushed her closer and closer to the brink.

"Chelsea," he moaned, his voice thick with lust and love. She could feel his cock pulsing inside her, and she knew he was close too. "Come for me," he demanded, his voice low and commanding. It was all she needed. With a cry that was equal parts pleasure and pain, she shuddered around him, her muscles clenching as she came hard.

Joe watched her, his own climax following close behind, his eyes never leaving hers. They held onto each other tightly as they rode the waves of pleasure, their breathing heavy and erratic. When it was over, Chelsea collapsed on top of him, her body feeling boneless and satisfied. They lay there for a moment, their hearts pounding in unison, their limbs tangled together.

"Joe," she whispered, her voice filled with wonder. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as he kissed her forehead. "I know," he murmured, understanding the unspoken question in her eyes. They had crossed a line that couldn't be uncrossed, and now they had to deal with the consequences.

The silence was heavy as they both thought about the future of their affair. The hotel room felt like a sanctuary, a bubble where the outside world couldn't touch them. But reality waited just beyond the door, and they both knew it couldn't last forever.

Joe pulled her closer, his thumb brushing against her cheek. "I know it's not my place to say, but maybe it's time to think about what you really want," he murmured. "You deserve to be happy, Chelsea. If you want something different, if you want more from your marriage, you should take it. Whether it's with me or not, I just want you to be happy."

Chelsea's eyes searched his, finding a genuine concern that she hadn't seen in a long time from Terrence. She knew Joe was right, but the weight of expectations and the fear of losing what she had built was too much. She leaned her forehead against his, whispering, "If I pull the trigger, everything changes. Our families, our reputations, our lives."

"But if you don't," Joe countered, "are you just going to keep living like this?" His voice was soft, but the question hit hard. Chelsea felt a knot form in her stomach, acknowledging the truth in his words.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of love, fear, and indecision. "I don't know what's going to happen," she admitted. "But I can't keep lying to them, Joe. And I can't keep lying to myself. I love you, but I'm terrified."

Joe kissed her gently. "I know, and I'm scared too. But we can't keep going on like this. We need to make a choice." He held her tightly, feeling her warmth, her heart racing against his chest. The silence between them was heavy, filled with the unspoken truth of what lay ahead.

The Dayton trip came and went, leaving Chelsea fluttering from room to room, preparing her home for her parents' first visit to Cincinnati. She was a tornado of emotions, trying to keep her thoughts from drifting back to Joe and the love they'd confessed in that hotel room. She knew she needed to keep up appearances, especially with her mother's keen eye for detail.

The doorbell chimed, pulling her out of her reverie, and she took a deep breath, pasting on a smile before opening the door. Her parents swept in, her mother's arms wide as she greeted her with a tight hug. "Look at you, living the dream," she said, her voice filled with pride. Chelsea's father nodded in approval, shaking Terrence's hand firmly.

The four of them sat down for dinner, the tension palpable as they made small talk. When the doorbell rang, Chelsea's heart skipped a beat. She excused herself, expecting it to be a delivery or a neighbor. To her shock, it was Gianna and Joe. The celebrity chef was holding a bottle of wine, her perfectly manicured hand outstretched. "I saw your parents flew in. Thought we'd pop by," she said, her smile bright and genuine. Chelsea managed to keep her cool, inviting them inside.

Joe's gaze lingered on Chelsea, a silent apology in his eyes. She knew he could feel the electricity between them, the secret they shared threatening to crackle into the open. Terrence was oblivious, chuckling at something Joe said about golf as they settled into the living room. Naturally, Gianna dazzled everyone with stories of her latest television appearances and culinary adventures. Chelsea's parents were delightfully entertained, nodding along and sharing their own tales with their daughter's neighbors.

As the evening progressed, Chelsea's mother stood, requesting her daughter join her in the kitchen for a brief moment. None the wiser, Chelsea followed, trying to play it cool despite the knowledge that Joe was likely watching her leave.

In the kitchen, her mother's eyes searched hers, a stern look replacing her earlier smile. "I hope you know what you're doing, Chelsea," she whispered, the clinking of glasses from the living room a stark contrast to the gravity of her words.

Chelsea's heart skipped a beat. "Momma? What are you talking about?" she replied, feigning ignorance as she reached for a glass of water to steady her nerves.

Her mother leaned in closer, her voice low. "I've never seen you look at a man like that before, not even Terrence, the man who's supposed to be your husband. What are you doing with that man, baby?"

Chelsea froze, attempting to collect herself before responding. "Momma, I don't know what you think you saw, but nothing is happening. He's just a neighbor." She took a sip of water, trying to ease the dryness in her mouth.

Her mother's gaze was unwavering. "Chelsea, I've been married to your father for thirty-five years. I know love when I see it and I know lust when I see it. And let me tell you, honey, you don't got either one of those for Terrence." She paused, giving her daughter a moment to absorb her words before continuing. "And compared to the way you look at Joseph, I don't think you ever have."

The room grew still, the air thick with accusation and truth. Chelsea felt the heat rising in her cheeks but she kept her composure. "Momma, you're reading too much into it," she replied, trying to lighten the mood with a forced smile. "Nothing to worry about."

Her mother's expression softened, but the knowing glint in her eye didn't fade. "Look, baby," she said, taking Chelsea's hand, "I'm not judging you. But I am your mother, and I know you. I want you to be happy. And if that means making some hard choices, then maybe it's time for you to consider what truly makes you happy. I know I have put a lot of pressure on you to find a good man, to marry well, and I'm sorry. I really am. But that doesn't mean you should settle for someone who doesn't take care of you."

Chelsea felt the weight of her mother's words, and she couldn't help but look over at Joe, who was chuckling at a story Gianna was telling. His eyes caught hers briefly, and she saw a hint of understanding in them, as if he knew what she was feeling. She turned back to her mother, unsure of what to say. "Momma, I'm okay. Really. Terrence is a good man. We're just going through a rough patch, that's all. Don't worry about me."

Her mother squeezed her hand gently. "Chelsea, I'm not worried about you. I'm worried about you wasting your life on a man who doesn't make you feel like the way you should." She took a deep breath. "Your father and I, we have our problems, but we always make sure to keep the spark alive. And let me tell you, the way you look at Joseph? That's a spark that could light up the whole damn neighborhood."

Her mother pulled her into a tight hug, whispering into her ear, "Just remember, baby, you deserve to be happy. And if that happiness isn't with Terrence, then maybe it's with someone else. I will always be proud of you, no matter what." With a knowing smile, she released her and returned to the dinner table. Chelsea felt a mix of relief and fear wash over her. It wasn't the first time her mother had hinted at her dissatisfaction with Terrence, but it was the first time she'd ever suggested that Chelsea's eye had wandered.

The evening ended with polite goodbyes and promises of future visits. As Joe and Gianna left, Joe gave Chelsea one last lingering look that sent shivers down her spine. Terrence, blissfully unaware of the tension, collapsed into bed, falling asleep almost instantly. But as Chelsea lay in bed, her thoughts were consumed by Joe's words and her mother's warning. Was she really just going through a phase, or had she found something real? And if so, was it worth risking everything for?

The following days were a blur of work, social engagements, and secret glances. Chelsea and Joe danced around each other, the air thick with unspoken desires and fears. They didn't dare to text or call, not with their spouses so close by, but the silence between them was deafening. It was during one particularly stressful workday that Chelsea decided she needed to get out of the office. She drove aimlessly, her mind racing until she found herself parked outside Joe's office building.

Her heart pounding, she waited until she saw him emerge, his tall frame cutting a stark contrast against the grey concrete. He looked surprised when he saw her, but there was something in his eyes that told her he'd been expecting this. They decided to grab a quick lunch at a nearby café, choosing a secluded booth in the back. The conversation was stilted at first, filled with awkward pauses and forced laughter, but eventually, the dam broke. They talked about their marriages, their dreams, their fears, and their longing for something more. Chelsea felt as though she was peeling back layers of herself she hadn't realized were there, revealing parts she'd kept hidden even from her own husband.

"I hired a divorce attorney," Joe announced, his voice low and serious. "I can't keep pretending anymore, Chelsea."

Her eyes widened, and she took a sip of her iced tea, the condensation on the glass slipping over her fingers. "Okay," she breathed out. "Okay."

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of his words hanging in the air like a thick fog. Chelsea felt a rush of emotions—relief, excitement, fear, and guilt. She knew that she felt the same way, that she couldn't continue living a lie, but the prospect of the truth coming to light was terrifying. She took a deep breath and leaned in, her eyes finding Joe's.

"Look, I don't expect you to leave Terrence today, or even a month from now," Joe said, his gaze focused on hers. "But I want you to know that I'm serious about this. I haven't seen Gianna in weeks, and when I do, it's for appearances only. Even if we weren't doing this," he gestured between them, "I would've ended it because neither of us is happy and I know she's just waiting for me to take the first step."

Chelsea's stomach twisted into knots. The thought of leaving Terrence and the life she'd built with him was overwhelming. Yet, she felt a spark of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could have the love she craved with Joe. She nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving his. "I'll think about it," she murmured.

They finished their lunch in near silence, the conversation drifting back to work and the mundane. It was a strange dance of normalcy in the face of a revelation that could shatter their worlds. When the check came, Joe reached for it, his hand brushing hers. The electricity that passed between them was undeniable. As they stood to leave, Chelsea felt a strange mix of excitement and dread.

They both retreated back to their own offices as the day wound down. As Chelsea drove back home, every red light, every stop sign, felt like a countdown to a moment that would change everything. When she pulled into her driveway, the house was dark. Terrence was still at the hospital. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts.

Once inside, she poured herself a glass of wine and sat on the couch, the same couch where she and Joe had first given into temptation. She couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through her at the memory. But she knew that if she acted on Joe’s confession, she would be crossing a line from which there was no returning. The weight of their shared secret grew heavier by the second.

Her phone buzzed with a text from Joe, "You okay?"

Chelsea took a sip of wine, the liquid doing little to soothe her nerves. She responded, "Yeah, just processing."

Joe's reply was almost instant, "We don't have to rush into anything. I just needed you to know where I stand."

The gravity of Joe's words sank in. Chelsea knew that once they made this move, there would be no going back. The walls of her marriage, which had felt so stifling, now felt like a cocoon protecting her from the inevitable storm that lay ahead. But as she sat there, feeling the warmth of the wine spread through her, she knew she didn't want to be protected anymore. She wanted the raw, unfiltered passion that Joe brought to her life.

The next night, Chelsea had resolved to break the news to Terrence. She waited for him to come home from a short day of consultations, her heart racing as she heard his footsteps through the front door. She took a deep breath as she opened the door, a bit miffed but not surprised when he completely brushed past her, heading for their drinks cart without so much as a hello. He was always like this after a day of dealing with patients and their families—distant, cold.

"Terrence, can we talk?" she called out, her voice echoing through their grand foyer. He didn’t respond immediately, taking his sweet time to fix himself a whiskey on the rocks before finally walking into the living room and reaching for the TV remote. Chelsea bit her lip, steeling herself for the conversation she’d been dreading. She’d picked out her words carefully, rehearsing the speech in her mind a hundred times. But now, with him so disconnected, it was harder than she thought.

He took a sip, his eyes never leaving the flickering screen. "What is it, Chelsea?"

Chelsea took a step closer to him, her heart hammering in her chest. "I have to tell you something. It's important."

"Yeah, okay," Terrence said distractedly, his gaze still glued to the TV.

Chelsea took a deep breath, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. "Terrence, I've been thinking a lot about us."

He finally tore his eyes away from the TV, looking at her with a mix of irritation and curiosity. "Chelsea, what is it?" The words were choppy, as if he had to force them out.

"I'm having an affair with Joe," Chelsea blurted out, the words leaving her mouth before she could second-guess herself. Terrence froze, the glass of whiskey halfway to his lips. For a moment, the room was silent, the only sound the low volume from the TV. His eyes grew wide, and his grip on the glass tightened.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Terrence's voice was low, a warning growl. He set the drink down hard on the coffee table, the ice clinking against the glass.

Chelsea swallowed, her throat dry. "I've been seeing Joe. We've been having an affair."

Terrence's face contorted into a mask of rage and disbelief. He took a step towards her, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "You what? How could you do this to me?"

"I'm sorry, Terrence," Chelsea said, her voice trembling as she took a step back.

"You're sorry? That's all you have to say?" Terrence's voice was a thunderstorm, his eyes flashing with anger. He took another step closer to her, and she could almost feel the heat of his rage. "How long has this been going on?"

"It just happened," Chelsea lied, her voice shaking. "I'm filing for divorce."

Terrence's eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare do this to me, Chelsea." He stepped closer, his towering frame looming over her. "We had an agreement, a promise to each other and our families."

"I know, but I can't help how I feel," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm not happy anymore, Terrence."

"You're not happy?" Terrence's voice was incredulous. "So you go fuck your married neighbor? Do you hear yourself?"

Chelsea flinched at the harshness of his words, but she stood her ground. "It's not just that, Terrence. We've been drifting apart for a while now. We're not the same people we were when we met in college."

"You think I don't know that?" Terrence snapped, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. "Does Gianna know that you fucked her husband?"

Chelsea felt a pang of guilt stab at her. "I don't know, Terrence. That's on Joe to tell her."

Terrence took another step towards her, his breath hot on her face. "You're unbelievable. You're going to ruin everything we've built together."

Chelsea's eyes filled with tears. "I know, but I can't keep living like this. I need more than just a good last name and a nice house."

Terrence's expression softened slightly, but the anger was still a palpable force between them. "What do you want from me, Chelsea? What could I possibly do to fix this?"

"It's not about fixing, Terrence," she said, her voice firm but filled with sadness. "It's about accepting that we're not right for each other anymore."

Terrence's eyes searched hers, looking for any hint of doubt or regret. Finding none, he sighed heavily. "I don't know what to say. I just... I don't get it."

"You don't have to," Chelsea replied, wiping away the tears that had begun to trickle down her cheeks. "I just need you to understand that I'm walking away. I don't expect you to be okay with it, but I need you to respect my decision."

The silence between them grew thick, each one of Terrence's breaths seemingly louder than the last. Finally, he spoke again, his voice quieter, more measured. "What now, Chelsea? What's your plan?"

She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the inevitable. "I'm going to file for divorce. I booked a room at Marriott Downtown for a few days. I need some space to think."

Terrence's face fell, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. "And Joe? What about him?"

"What about him?" Chelsea challenged, her voice laced with defensiveness. "He's going to leave Gianna. He loves me."

Terrence scoffed. "Love? You think this is love? You're throwing away our marriage for a quick fuck and a few moments of excitement? That's not love, Chelsea."

Chelsea's eyes flashed with anger. "You don't get to define love for me, Terrence. You don't get to tell me what I feel. Even if Joe doesn't leave Gianna, I need to find myself again. This isn't just about sex. It's about connection and what I need to be happy."

Terrence stepped back, his chest rising and falling rapidly. "I can't believe this is happening." He turned away from her, his hand rubbing at his forehead. "Go to the Marriott, whatever. Just do me a favor and break the news to our parents yourself. Tell them what the fuck you did, yeah?"

With that, he stormed out of the living room, slamming the bedroom door shut behind him. Chelsea stood there, trembling, her heart racing in her chest. She had never seen Terrence like this before—so raw, so broken. The reality of what she had done began to sink in, and she felt the weight of their crumbling marriage pressing down on her. She picked up her phone, staring at the screen, Joe's contact staring back at her but she couldn't bring herself to press the call button.

Instead, she turned and walked out the front door, the cool night air hitting her like a slap in the face. The quietness of the neighborhood was eerie, a stark contrast to the tumultuous storm brewing in her soul. She wandered the streets, her thoughts racing. Was this love? Was she being selfish? Would she regret this? But with each step, she felt a sense of relief, as if she were shedding a heavy burden she had been carrying for too long.

The drive was a blur of streetlights and the occasional passing car. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was driving away from everything she had ever known and into the unknown. Her mind was racing with the consequences of her actions, the potential for scandal, and the pain she knew she had caused Terrence. Yet, as she pulled into the Marriott parking lot, she felt a strange sense of liberation. For the first time in years, she was making a decision solely for herself.

In the hotel room, Chelsea took a deep breath and picked up the phone, her hand shaking. She dialed Joe's number, the anticipation building with each ring. When he finally answered, she could hear the tension in his voice. "Hey," she whispered, "I did it. Terrence knows."

There was a heavy pause on the other end, and then Joe exhaled. It was a deep, relieved sigh, one that told her everything she needed to know about his reaction. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice gentle and concerned.

"Honestly, yeah," she replied truthfully, "I think I've been holding this in for so long that it feels like a weight has been lifted. What about you?"

Joe took a moment before speaking, "It was weird, she didn't fight with me. Just said 'okay' and asked me to leave," Despite the tension in his voice, Chelsea couldn't miss the hint of relief. "But it's the right thing to do, I know it is."

"What's going to happen now?" she asked, her heart racing.

"I could come see you?" Joe suggested tentatively, "We could talk about it in person."

Chelsea felt a warm rush of excitement at the thought. "Okay," she murmured, "I'll be waiting." She hung up the phone and paced the room, trying to calm her racing thoughts. When Joe finally arrived, the tension between them was palpable. He looked tired, his eyes carrying the weight of the day's revelations. His arms were warm, strong, and comforting as he pulled her into an embrace.

"I'm sorry," she said, her voice muffled against his chest. "I didn't mean for it to go down like that."

Joe held her tighter, his breath warm against her hair. "It's okay," he murmured, "This is on me too. We both knew this wasn't going to be easy." He led her to the bed, his hand never leaving hers, and they sat down. The silence stretched out, thick and heavy with unspoken words.

"I want you to know that I'm all in," Joe said, his voice firm but gentle, breaking the silence. "Whatever happens next, I'm here for you. Romantically or otherwise."

Chelsea looked up at him, her eyes searching his for any signs of doubt. All she found was a fierce determination that mirrored her own. "I'm all in too," she whispered, her heart swelling with emotion.

They lay down together, their bodies fitting perfectly. Chelsea felt a sense of peace that she hadn't felt in years. Joe kissed her forehead, her cheek, her neck, before capturing her lips in a gentle, yet urgent kiss. The kiss grew deeper, more passionate, as their bodies began to move in sync. They made love slowly, savoring each touch, each caress, as if it were the first and last time. Their moans filled the quiet hotel room, echoing off the walls in sweet surrender.

Afterwards, they lay entwined, the silence between them no longer filled with tension but a quiet understanding. "On the bright side," Chelsea spoke up, a small smile playing on her lips, "I don't mind taking you to a firm event. Terrence never gave me the chance to introduce him to my coworkers."

Joe chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest. "I guess that'll be our first official appearance together, huh?" He stroked her arm lightly, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. "I can't wait to tell the world you're all mine. That you chose me over all the other eligible married men out there."

"Stupid," Chelsea muttered, narrowing her eyes as Joe laughed at his own joke. "But true," she conceded with a smile, snuggling closer to him. "I can't wait to kiss you in public. Without hiding."

Joe's eyes grew serious as he pulled her closer. "We'll do it right," he promised. "I'll introduce you to my colleagues, my friends, my family. And we'll tell them the truth—that we're together because we love each other, no more guilt, no more anxiety."

The warmth of Joe's embrace washed over Chelsea like a gentle summer rain, soothing her raw emotions. She nodded, feeling the weight of her decision settle into her bones. As they lay together, the silence was punctuated only by their synchronized breaths and the muffled sounds of the bustling city outside. The reality of their newfound freedom both thrilling and terrifying.

[exhaslo]

Over-Time

CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader!

Warning: MINORS DNI, eventual smut, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Dear, (Y/N), you have been selected to join us for a group interview at Alchemax. Please arrive at appointed date and time below. Read and follow all instructions to ensure your interview. We can't wait to meet you."

Unable to fathom what you had just read, a loud gasp escaped your lips instead. All you really read was interview. Everything else blurred out since you were so excited to finally have a chance to leave your current job.

"Oh my gosh! Do I even have the proper clothes for an interview there?! I can't believe it!" You whispered, resisting a squeal.

This was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Alcehmax was one of the biggest companies in Nueva York. Everyone in their right mind wanted to get even a chance to work there. Hell, some people were happy just being a janitor there.

It was all anyone wanted to gloat about. Getting an interview was nearly impossible and yet, your clumsy ass managed to get it. You had prayed to every God you could think of. The questionnaire was a nightmare and where people failed the most.

"Okay, okay! I have to prepare...I have to practice..." You told yourself.

Interviews were hard for you. You were nervous around new people and freaked out when asked hard questions. Glancing at yourself in the mirror, you just smiled. You got this far. You had an interview to take and succeed in.

---------

"Lyla, have we found anyone decent enough within the last two group interviews?" Miguel asked with a grumble.

Lyla, Miguel's private assistant, just laughed. She took off her designer glasses and placed them on Miguel's desk. Miguel was the CEO of Alchemax. One of the richest men in all of Nueva York, and a man with a quick temper.

"We have some potential candidates for the open slot in Marketing, but no one to replace me for when I go on my vacaaaation~" Lyla sang happily. Miguel felt his eye twitch,

"Yes, I know. You haven't stopped bragging about your damn vacation all week. Would have been nice if you mentioned it sooner-"

"Oh, don't give me that, Migs. I had it pop up on your calendar every week for the past three months reminding you! It isn't my fault you don't look."

"I am a busy man. You know that because you make my schedule," Miguel hissed lowly then pinched the bridge of his nose, "Just-Ugh, I just find me someone who won't try and suck my dick within the first week."

Lyla just snickered as she typed on her tablet, "You need to find someone. Maybe it will make you less of a grump." She mocked.

Miguel exhaled loudly, glaring towards his assistant. It was a good thing that Miguel could tolerate that woman. Lyla was a close friend of his and knew how to push his buttons.

Leaning back in his seat, Miguel closed his eyes as he took the moment to rest. Lyla was going to be gone for a few months. She sure knew how to utilize her vacation time. Hell, Lyla had a tough job dealing with him. She deserved it.

"I just need someone....quiet."

---------

How could a building give off such an intimidating presence? It was as if all those powerful inside were warding off the weak and frail. The start of a challenging, yet welcoming part of your life. If you managed to do good in the interview.

Inhaling deeply, you gripped onto your folder and finally had the courage to make your way inside. You heard the stories, but Alchemax sure was a force to be reckon with. The inside of the reception floor felt like another world.

You had arrived super early. You were scared of being late and well, knowing yourself, you were probably going to get lost. Hopefully, your clumsiness won't get in the way of your interview.

"Ah-"

Magic words. Just thinking of it alone caused you to goof up. You had accidently bumped into someone while admiring the inside of the building.

"I-I'm s-so sorry!" You stuttered, panicked that you were fucking up already, "I wasn't looking! I'm sorry!"

"It's alright. Are you okay?" The man spoke as you picked up your paperwork that fell.

Tears were starting to form as you thought of running away. Glancing up at the stranger you bumped into, you sniffed and tried to compose yourself. The man before you had bend down and helped with your paperwork.

"No need to be afraid, I won't bite." The man said with a warming smile. You gulped, finding him very attrative,

"I'm sorry again."

"Oh? An interview?"

"Ah, yes. I'm a little early, but since I've never been here I wanted to make sure...I wouldn't get lost," You admited as he handed your paperwork, "Thank you. My name is (Y/N)."

"Miguel,"

You stood up, staring at the towering man before you. That name sounded familiar, but you were so focused on your goof up to remember. Everyone was probably staring at you, laughing and knowing that you were probably going to flunk the interview now.

"Come, I'll take you to the floor you're going to be at. There are drinks in the lobby once you arrive. Help yourself."

"Ah, thank you."

You were just lucky to have bumped into someone as nice as Miguel. If it were anyone else, they would have probably made you feel worse than you already do now.

---------

Miguel stayed quiet as he led you to the elevator. He won't lie that it was slightly amusing to find someone who didn't immediately recognized him. That and quite refreshing. Miguel wondered what you would think if you found out that he was the CEO.

Glancing ever so slightly in your direction, Miguel couldn't help but smile. It was like you were in your own little world. You were fumbling with your fingers while you had a slight look of panic on your face. Honestly, that was how people should look for an interview.

Alchemax was not a place to enter with confidence.

"What position are you applying for?" Miguel asked, wanting to ease your nerves.

"Oh!" You gasped lowly, "Marketing."

"Hm. How good are you with planning and scheduling?" He asked casually. Your shoulders raised slightly,

"I, um, I like to...It's easier for me when I have everything in an itinerary. Makes for unnecessary distractions and delays. I find myself at ease with a schedule," You admitted with such a carefree smile.

"And organization?"

"If I'm not overwhelmed I'm great with organizing things." You chirped, "Oh, um, will I get a lot of people talking and asking me questions if I do get hired here? I...I'm just a little shy and if I get overwhelmed I do tend to be clumsy."

Miguel resisted a chuckle, finding you quite entertaining. After another second of silence, Miguel watched as you gasped and covered your face with your folder.

How cute.

---------

How embarrassing!

Just because he was a handsome face and kind to you, doesn't mean you could get comfortable! It took you hours to practice talking to yourself in the mirror to prepare for an interview and now you were blabbing away nonsense to a stranger!

Feeling the elevator come to a stop. You gasped lowly, admiring the lobby before you.

"Here is your stop." Miguel spoke.

"Thank you," You bowed your head slightly, still embarrassed from rambling off.

As you stepped off the elevator, you gulped. Nerves started to kick in as you took your first step to a better future.

"Oh, and (Y/N)," Miguel called out, causing you to turn, "Best of luck."

"T-Thank you!"

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson

[moonchild1]

jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅷ)

it's finally here! i've been working on this list for so long and honestly with the release of seven i had to reorganize it but it's finally ready soooo here's a list of the fics i've been reading lately, honestly i loved every single one of them and enjoyed it so much and i would sell my soul to get a chance to read them all over again, i've been exploring way more and reading genres i haven't read before so i am so excited to post this list, i've grown attached to alot of the series so i'm beyond excited seeing how they all play out but i hope you all connect and fall for the fics as well and experience that excitement too... remember to follow, like, comment and give lots of love to our talented writers they deserve so much love and support i mean look at all the magic they share with us!! and check out their masterlists too you might find your faves as well... as you know majority if not all the fics i rec contain smut so no minors allowed and also dni. i love that you guys have been sending me recs and questions i love hearing from you so please do keep sharing them and asking... stay happy and healthy everyone and enjoy the list till next time 💘🖤

a- angst s- smut f-fluff

series

employed by @personasintro f s a (ceo au slow burn e2l) updates on wattpad

seven days by @/kithtaehyung f s a (fuckboy jk roommate to lovers)

candles & flames by @taegularities f s a (enemies to lovers royal/regency au fuckboy jk)

ego season by @sparklingchim s (jock jk fwb brothers best friend college au)

the lucky one by @babystrcandy f s a (rivals/enemies to lovers childhood friends)

bangtan scouts by @hisunshiine f s a (fantasy au college au friends to lovers)

seven days by @/hisunshiine f s a (brothers best friend age gap fwb)

bloodline by @jjkeverlast s a (fwb au slow burn college au)

seven days a week by @/jjkeverlast f s a (fwb au college au)

dextrocardia by @jeonstudios f s a (officer au undercover fake marriage e2l)

drown for you by @/jeonstudios f s a (siren au)

as we were by @archivedkookie s a (infidelity au marriage au slow burn) ft yoongi

secret slut by @jeonsweetpea s (office au assistant jk)

moonstruck by @/jeonsweetpea s a (supernatural au slow burn e2l based on the vampire diaries and legacies)

angel’s trumpet by @hansolmates f a (idol au supernatural au)

timing by @spideyjimin f s a (dad jk past lovers au)

full stop by @1oserjk f a (divorce au parents au)

spicy n sweet by @thvhoe s a (boxer au established relationship)

the princess and the rockstar by @httpknjoon f a (rockstar au royalty au)

redamancy by @lesgetittkookie f s a (rich girl au s2l)

the ability to fathom by @hanniwrites f s a (brothers best friend idiots to lovers pining college au virgin au)

denial by @girlygguk f s a (idol au fwb brothers best friend)

safety net by @pradaksj f s a (boxer au e2l)

the forgotten spaces by @oddinary4bts f s a (slow burn e2l dancer au college au)

sinful lust by @oddinary4bts s a (threesome au) ft. boyfriend myg

over wine by @koocycle f s a (marriage au)

friday nights and take-out by @ahundredtimesover f s a (idol au s2l)

blackout by @jjungxkook f s (bf2l roommate college au)

the damsel & her knight by @jimilter f a (chaebol au ceo jk e2l)

at your service by @untaemedqueen f s a (escort au s2l ceo au)

pr disaster by @ughcore f s a (e2l actor au fake dating)

aphrodite in war by @jungblue f s a (frat boy au fake dating roommates e2l)

to err is to love by @jungkookschin f a (exes au dilf au ceo au)

live through this by @starshapedkookie s a (exes frenemies to lovers band au)

my love is here by @solemnreads f s a (unrequited love best friends slow burn)

clash by @matchagator f s a (neighbours slice of life e2l)

to what we were before, and all the things after by @orchidyoonkook f s a (prince jk s2l f2l slow burn college au)

one-shot

devoted to trouble by @/jeonsweetpea f s (spiderkook)

accidental roommates by @/jjkeverlast f s a (dilf au roommates to lover e2l)

calling you cool by @/kithtaehyung f s a (rockstar au s2l)

college nights, diner fights by @/hisunshiine f s a (e2l waiter au)

love is gone by @jeonbunnie s a (established relationship break up au)

the boy with galaxies in his eyes by @/oddinary4bts f s a (idol au fuckboy au fwb tattoo artist au)

no longer strangers by @soft4gguk f s (summer love strangers 2 lovers)

the hating game by @sxtaep s a (e2l lawyer au)

what if i love you too much? by @taleasnewastime f s a (single mom au neighbours to lovers)

jasmine by @/btssmutgalore f s (friends to lover shy jk) on ao3

please don’t go by @httpjungkookcom f a (spider kook childhood best friends)

boy's a Liar by @/thvhoe f s a (best friends bf e2l college au)

masked by @flymetothejoon s a (drummer jk s2l)

lonely hearts club by @joonbird s a (tattoo artist dystopian au)

this is how you fall in love by @jeonqkooks f s a (rockstar au established relationship)

freak-quency by @gukslut f s (rockstar au s2l)

boots by @/gukslut f s (rockstar au)

wake up call by @junghelioseok s (established relationship)

orange tulips by @kainks f s a (soulmate au reincarnation)

skirt chaser by 1kook s (f2l college au)

blueberry haze by @caelesjjk s (drummer au s2l)

cabin fever by @jeongi f s a (ex best friends unrequited love)

the millionaire and his lover by @gukyi f s a (f2l ceo au fake dating one sided love)

take what’s yours (and stay) by @kidguk f s a (f2l s2l pinning)

overtime by @cupofteaguk f s (ceo au boss au)

↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library

[cjlouwho]

prompt: the rest of the 118 see tommy and buck be affectionate together for the first time. not just the aftermath, like with the wedding kiss, but they actually witness it. cuteness overload!

It took a few weeks for everything to calm down enough for everyone to get together.

The 118 was adjusting to working under Captain Gerrard.

Bobby and Athena were adjusting to moving into an apartment half the size of their house.

Hen and Karen were adjusting to visits with Mara every chance they could get.

Chimney and Maddie were adjusting to having two young girls running around the house.

Eddie was adjusting to being alone.

And Buck was less adjusting and more enjoying his new romance with Tommy.

He didn't mention Tommy much at work. He got sick of Gerrard's one-off comments pretty quickly. Usually, he would have been egging him on every chance he got, but it turns out he was more protective of Tommy than he originally realized, and anytime his name came out of Gerrard's mouth it made him want to punch the man.

It was easier to not bring him up.

When Bobby and Athena had finally settled into their new place, which very conveniently had a grilling and picnic area on the roof, they invited everyone over.

Bobby made sure to include Tommy in his invitation. His and Buck's relationship may have been new, but he was an old friend to the majority of the 118, and a new friend to those he hadn't known all that long.

He did not include the fact that Athena was insistent on seeing their dynamic because, “One of them is gonna give the other a run for their money and I can't figure out which one's which yet.”

In fact, the majority of the group was interested in seeing Tommy and Buck together. Everyone except Eddie, who accidentally witnessed far too much of their dynamic a couple weeks ago when he decided to head into Buck's place without knocking first.

It would be the last time he ever made that mistake.

The others couldn't help their curiosity. It was the first time Buck had ever seemed so settled in a relationship. The first time he wasn't asking for near-constant advice. The first time he wasn't endlessly concerned he was doing something wrong or about to screw things up.

Something was different. Something had shifted. They wanted to know what it was.

And while Hen and Chimney had known Tommy for a long time, they hadn't exactly stayed in touch after he left. Up until the cruise rescue, Hen hadn't really spoken to him at all, and Chimney would send him a text or two each year just to ask how he was keeping up. The Tommy they knew was closeted, scared, defensive under Gerrard's leadership, cocky, and seemingly always searching for something... more.

“I'm kinda bummed,” Buck said as they headed up to the roof.

“What?” Tommy glanced at him curiously. “Why?”

“Because everyone already knows you,” he explained. “I can't introduce you as my boyfriend.”

Tommy smiled, eyes crinkling up in the cute way Buck loved. He switched the wine bottle he was holding to his other hand took Buck's hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “You can still do that, if you want. I mean, they might look at you funny, but who cares, right?”

Buck squeezed his hand back. After a moment, he gasped, eyes widening as he did a little jump. “I can introduce you to all the kids!” he exclaimed.

Tommy couldn't help but laugh at Buck's excitement. “That sounds perfect, Evan.”

*****

Bobby wasn't sure how they'd gotten to this point only five minutes into Buck arriving, but here they were. Before Tommy had even handed off the wine, Buck was going into a story on Gerrard mentioning the 1933 Griffith Park Fire, but he had been wrong about some information.

“And I was trying to tell him how twenty-nine people died, not twenty-seven, but he was insistent that I was wrong. I knew I wasn't. I had just spent a couple hours the other night reading over articles about it. When was it, Tommy?” he asked, turning to his boyfriend, “Two nights ago?”

“Uh, three. Three nights ago.”

“Right, three nights ago. See, two people died later at the hospital, so they weren't included in the initial death toll. So, obviously, I had to get online and show him...”

As Buck continued, Bobby nodded along, trying to take in at least some of what he was saying. Sometimes, when Buck got on tangents like these, it was hard to keep up.

As the discussion got more heated, Bobby noticed Tommy's hand drifted to Buck's back, resting at the base. Buck continued without missing a beat, but his voice calmed and his posture relaxed.

“Did he ever admit defeat?” Tommy asked. To Bobby's surprise, Tommy had kept his eyes on Buck the entire time. He seemed genuinely interested in every word that was coming out of Buck's mouth.

Buck shook his head. “No, he'd never do that. But he was quiet for the rest of the day, so I took it as a win.”

“Oh, that's definitely a win,” Tommy agreed.

Not that he ever doubted, but it was then that Bobby knew his initial analysis was correct. Tommy was good people, and he was good for Buck.

*****

Hen's eyes drifted over the rooftop, settling between Tommy and Buck. She had noticed earlier how they always seemed to gravitate toward each other. Now was no different. Even though they were on opposite sides of the roof, Buck talking to Maddie, and Tommy having a very expressive conversation with Jee, they would steal glances at each other. A smile here, a wink there. Buck even gave Tommy a little wave, like they hadn't been sitting side by side only five minutes ago.

“I don't think it's just the honeymoon phase for those two,” Athena said, scooting a chair closer to Hen before sitting down.

Hen rolled her eyes affectionately at yet another tiny wave from Buck before turning to Athena. “I think I agree. I've never seen Buck so smitten before, and I don't use that word often.”

“Mhm,” Athena hummed with a nod. “Tommy seems just as smitten as Buck. I don't ever remember him looking so peaceful before. I haven't worked with him much since he transferred to Harbor, but I remember what he was like before.”

Hen huffed out a laugh. “Arrogant?”

“And stiff.”

“Yeah. He changed a lot, especially after Gerrard left, but this is different.”

They kept watching as Jee got distracted by Mara and they ran off to play. Tommy walked over to Buck, who held out his hand for Tommy to take before Tommy was even close.

As soon as he could, Tommy took his hand and sat down beside him on the little couch. Buck leaned in close, whispering something in his ear, then they laughed deep and loud.

“If I watch anymore of this I'm gonna throw up,” Hen said, standing up. “I'm gonna go rescue Karen from whatever game Denny is showing her on his phone.”

Athena laughed, squeezed Hen's hand as she went by, but kept her attention on the boys.

She couldn't seem to look away.

*****

Maddie tapped Chimney's thigh, nodding toward where Buck and Tommy were standing in a corner of the rooftop, watching the sunset. They had their arms wrapped around one another, occasionally stealing a chaste kiss. “They look so happy,” she said, a warm smile on her face.

“Yeah, they do,” Chimney agreed. “I'm happy for both of them. They're good together.”

“Yeah, they are. Did you know Buck hasn't even been to his loft in a week? When he's not working he's at Tommy's place.”

“And they're not sick of each other yet?” Chimney laughed. “Oh, they're in deep.”

Before Maddie could respond, Eddie was coming up to them, kneeling down beside Chimney. “We gotta hide the clipboards.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I'm serious, man, we're gonna be in deep trouble if we don't.”

Maddie leaned forward. “Why do you need to hide the clipboards, Eddie?”

Eddie motioned to Buck and Tommy. Tommy had an arm around Buck's shoulder now, both of Buck's still wrapped around Tommy's waist. He had his head resting against Tommy's shoulder, and Tommy pressed a kissed to the top of his head. “Have you seen the two of them? I'm not even gonna go into what I witnessed a couple weeks ago-”

“Thank God.”

“-but they've got it bad for each other. I give it six months before they're engaged. You know what happens after that?”

Chimney thought for a second, sucking in a breath when the realization hit him. “Wedding planning.”

“Wedding planning,” Eddie repeated.

Maddie shook her head. “You guys are crazy.”

“What? You don't think they'll be ready to walk down the aisle in six months time?” Chimney asked.

“Oh, no, they definitely will. You're just crazy if you think not being able to find a clipboard will stop him. I don't know if you guys know this, but Notes app Buck is far worse than clipboard Buck.”

[yanderambling]

omg i’m thrilled that y’all like him so much!!! and these ideas were soso tasty ugh your minds~ i had a lot of fun with this, maybe too much if you look at the wc lol, so i hope y’all enjoy <3 ALSO continuity note: since Adrian is so popular, i won't carry major events through different stories unless requested, that way everyone can have their own version of his story! but i'll be keeping general facts about Adrian the same unless otherwise specified, like his parents being rich because i find it funny~ thank you and goodnight <3 (and yes i switched this gif with the last part shhhh it’s okay)

pairing: Masochist Puppyboy!Yandere(m) x Bully!Reader(gn)

words: ~ 4.6k

you can read the previous part here!

CW: 18+, NSFW, yandere behavior, stalking, bullying, physical/verbal abuse, BDSM themes, poor BDSM etiquette but neither party minds

Adrian nearly choked when he heard his name read next to yours for the school project.

It took you a second to recognize his; you mostly just call him mutt. Once you realized, you loudly groaned at the prospect of spending the week with that pest.

Adrian couldn’t hear it over his racing heart.

As soon as class lets out, he's right at your side, yammering on about project materials and meeting arrangements and times and "we should really meet at one of our houses so we don't have to worry about distractions, I'm fine with coming to yours! It's closer to school anyway, right? It'll be more private- I just think it makes sense-"

You finally shut him up by making the executive decision that you’ll work at his house (you don’t need him shedding on your furniture, or potentially getting any personal ammunition against you; he is way too interested in being inside your home, and how does he know it’s closer to school?).

Adrian was crestfallen that he wouldn’t get to go in your house (and smell the pure you imbued in your furniture, and pretend he’s really your dog while you sit together- maybe in your bedroom!-, and snoop through your underwear drawer when you go to the bathroom, and snoop through your bathroom when he goes in right after you...), but he was still over the moon at the idea of having you in his space.

(He’ll just visit your window later tonight like usual, anyway- he'll still get high off that closeness alone. Win/win!)

Adrian doesn't think about anything else for the rest of the day, zoning through his classes and plastered to your side whenever he gets the chance, just alight with energy and anticipation and not shutting up about it- he's lucky there's too many witnesses for you to knock him quiet (oh, but he would feel so much luckier if you did).

You would totally bail on this project if you weren’t already failing this class, which is mostly on account of you bailing. You’re wondering if all those cut classes were worth having to work with this, but you’re not feeling hopeful.

The day seems to drag on forever for both of you, for vastly different reasons. By the time school lets out, Adrian is buzzing out of his skin and you're seconds away from ripping it off him.

As you two start the trek to his place, Adrian can't get over how surreal it feels to walk beside you. It's like you two are a couple, and you're walking him home for an after school study date!

He gets lost in the daydream easily, giving you a brief reprieve from his energy, and allowing you to absently notice his rapidly wagging tail almost propelling him down the sidewalk. You can't help but smirk a little at the image that conjures in your mind.

He's truly ridiculous, you can't really believe him sometimes. Doesn't that thing ever get tired? What does he think is gonna happen that's got him so damn excited? That he's gonna get in good with you somehow (hopefully) and you'll leave him alone? (never in his wildest dreams.)

Yeah, fat chance.

When Adrian stops at his house, you think he's joking. But then he walks right up the driveway of this random McMansion, motioning you along eagerly, and enters a security code before holding the door open for you with a clearly anticipatory smile.

...The fuck.

You did not count on Adrian’s family being loaded. He certainly doesn't dress or groom like it.

You consider berating him for not mentioning it, but decide against it for the risk of seeming stupid- to Adrian of all people. You do make a mental note for your future errand requests, though.

Adrian’s parents aren’t home, he tells you his mom is always traveling and his dad basically lives at his office. You’re relieved that you won’t have to put on a nice face for the folks, but there’s apparently still a live-in housekeeper that floats around (are you fucking kidding?) so you stay diligent.

Adrian suggests you two work in his room; you figure the further from watchful eyes, the better.

Despite it being his idea, Adrian can't help his giddy nervousness as you enter his room (he’d texted the housekeeper to make sure it was clean as soon as you decided to come over, lucky he keeps his souvenirs hidden away whenever he’s not admiring them).

The room is frankly ridiculous, easily twice the size of yours, a king bed in the corner, a desk and coffee table and two dressers, and yet adorned with piles of clothes and clutter and more genres of nerdy shit than you even knew existed.

"Yeah, okay, parts of this make sense."

Adrian cocks his head, opening his mouth to ask what you mean, when he suddenly chokes on air.

You've made a bee-line right to his desk, covered in books and papers for hobbies and school alike, but also holding a locked drawer at the very bottom in which he keeps his "school collection" (just discarded pencils with bitten erasers, torn up notebook paper he can still smell your hands on, old gym shorts you were probably gonna replace soon anyway, a bandaid here, a plastic fork there; nothing crazy).

He watches with bated breath as you sift through the contents of his desk, occasionally scoffing or chuckling at what you find. He lets out a sigh when you seem to grow bored, just for you to move on to his dresser and have his stomach doing somersaults all over again.

Maybe he should've asked the housekeeper to hide his stuff better and just braved the questions later...

You move throughout the room like you own it (you do, as far as the both of you are concerned), making little jabs at his various posters and figurines which make his whole body flush hot with pleasure because you're noticing things about him, but every other move you make sends his heart jumping into his throat in a completely different way.

It only takes a minute or two for the stress to get to him.

“Ah- hey! Uh, maybe we should- maybe we should start on the project, right?”

You bark a laugh and spin on your heel to face him, an incredulous half-grin pulling your lips and revealing a gut-twisting flash of teeth.

"We?"

Oh, yeah, he much prefers those intense eyes boring into him.

He starts spluttering placations immediately. "No! Well, uhm, I didn't mean- you, you don't- have to- obviously, I mean, I don't- I wouldn't-"

You roll your eyes and shove past him, effectively cutting him off as you flop down onto his abominably soft mattress. "Right, yeah, whatever. Let's get one thing straight here, okay?"

Adrian nods, his whole being drawn to focus at your entrancingly commanding tone. Although, it's incredibly hard to focus on anything with the sight of you on his bed right in front of him; he's already planning how to avoid that area so it'll retain your scent longer, he wonders if he could cut that part of the duvet out and keep it in an airtight container, maybe the sheets under it too just to be safe...

"This is not a "we" situation, got it? I'm not lifting a damn finger for this bullshit, that's what you're there for." Adrian has a purpose to you! "I am only here to make sure you're actually doing it, which shouldn't be a problem because if we get anything less than an A, it's gonna be your ass."

As tempting as it is to see what punishment you would inflict upon him, Adrian really really really wants to please you- and he's pretty good at this subject anyway!

You then cross your arms and lean back just enough to look down your nose at him. "Got it?"

Adrian can't answer fast enough.

"Yes! Yes, that's perfect! Awesome, good- great!"

But then he doesn’t make a move. Ha.

He looks a little lost, standing in the middle of his own room, barely biting down a grin and wringing his hands as he seems to wait for another command.

Apparently, you’ve trained him well.

You scoff and let yourself fall onto your back as you pull out your phone (Adrian's gonna need a bigger airtight container).

"Well, go on then, we don't have all day."

Adrian scrambles to get to work. He quickly positions himself on the floor by the foot of the bed and pulls the coffee table closer, emptying his school bag carelessly onto the carpet.

You huff a laugh at the sight, all this money and the kid's parents couldn't buy him any class. Maybe sloppiness is an inherent trait, like his apparent passion for service- nobody with this much money should be such a pushover. And yet...

Adrian couldn’t be happier, sitting on the floor while you lounge across his bed and periodically weigh in with (mostly incorrect) corrections or snide remarks, an almost alarmingly wide grin settled on his face as his tail taps a steady rhythm against his carpet.

It’s not an unpleasant picture, you muse absently as you look up from your phone, it’s almost comforting to have your little puppy on the floor, cheerily working away for you while you laze about. It certainly beats doing the work yourself, or having to threaten a student with an actual spine to do it for you.

Still, it doesn't take long for you to get bored. Bored enough to notice your empty stomach, at least.

"I'm hungry."

Adrian's head shoots up from the book he was hunched over, ears raised at attention and eyes glittering with something you're not sure you care to identify.

He's on his feet in the next second, knocking his knees on the way up loud enough to startle you yet showing no signs of even noticing.

"I-I'll ask Len to make something!"

He darts out of the room before you can tell him what you want, but you trust he knows your moods and tastes well enough by this point to predict. (Oh, he does, and Len's not going to be making anything- they don't know all the special ingredients!)

The second he leaves, you decide to really cure your boredom by snooping around in earnest. Certainly this creep has something actually weird hidden in here, you just have to look in the right places.

You waste no time in sifting through his bookshelf (nerd shit), closet (nerd clothes, some dirty), a dresser (nerd clothes, mostly clean), under his bed (dirty clothes, nerd shit in boxes)- the door opens behind you.

“Wha-? Oh! Ah- Wh-what- what are you doing?”

You don’t even bother moving from your crouch, most of your upper body shoved under the bedstand while the rest of you... is not.

Adrian’s mouth is completely dry for several reasons.

“What’re you, blind? I’m snooping.”

Adrian slowly comes further into the room, hesitantly setting the serving tray on the low table. He can’t stop his voice from cracking as he stutters out,

“Uh- yeah, okay, yeah, but- um, would you maybe mind- um, not?”

You snicker, at least he has some manners. “Yeah, I do mind, actually. What’s the matter, mutt? Got something to hide?”

“N-no!”

The answer is so immediate, so fervent, that it has you pulling up just to give him an unimpressed look. He stares back at you, eyes wide and frenzied.

“Jesus you’re a bad liar.”

Looking at him now, you can see sweat glistening on his face and his hands clenching by his side. His eyes dart toward the dresser you haven't checked yet.

Bingo.

You jump up from your position and stride across the room with purpose. You only make it a few steps before Adrian seems to materialize in front of you, making you stop short and almost yelp from shock.

“S-sorry! I’m sorry, I just-" he's waving his hands wildly, head ducked as his gaze rapidly flicks between your face and the floor, "You-you can’t- please, please don’t-”

“Okay, creep, I get the gist.”

You shove past him, and he wishes he could relish the firm pressure of your hands on him.

He whirls around and watches in horror as you approach the dresser. He needs to do something, he needs to stop you, but what can he do? You’ve clearly made up your mind, it’s not like it's his place to try and change it...

All he can do is watch, a high ringing in his ears and his body filling with static, while you meticulously sift through every drawer until his clothes are strewn about the floor and you're panting with frustration.

He's about to let himself take a breath when you suddenly squat down and stick your arm into the shallow space underneath. He nearly swallows his tongue when you let out a disbelieving huff and awkwardly slide out a long lockbox.

You look up at him triumphantly, eyes sparkling with glee, and he almost mirrors your smile just for how captivating it is.

"Open it."

"N-no-"

You lean up toward him and cock your head, he has to stop himself from being drawn in by the magnetism of your narrowed eyes. “The fuck did you just say to me?"

"I'm sorry! I didn't- just, I can't-"

"Oh, I think you can. Or you're not gonna like what happens next."

That's where you're wrong, and it only really strengthens Adrian's extremely shaky resolve. He tries to keep the grin off his face as he habitually starts to picture the punishment you might give him; a cuff on the ears, a knee to the stomach, a punch in the face-

But you just roll your eyes and groan, no longer in the mood now that something more interesting has presented itself.

Instead, your gaze floats down to the flimsy looking combination lock on the box, then it fixes on some heavy-standed figurine you'd knocked off his bookshelf earlier.

Yeah, good enough.

Adrian barely has time to flinch before you're snatching it up and breaking the lock with a sound crack.

Then you're lifting the lid.

"No!"

He starts to lunge forward, but your sharply raised hand halts him dead in his tracks.

Fuck.

It's too late anyway, judging by your wide eyes and slightly slack jaw (god how he wishes he could focus on the glorious curve of your open lips, or the way your perfect teeth peek over them, or how it might feel to have those teeth sunk into his skin-)

"What. The. Fuck."

"I-I can explain- It's not-!"

"I literally do not believe that you can."

Adrian's throat goes dry, he feels tears welling in his eyes. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry! I never meant- it's not like-"

You tune Adrian out as you focus on the stacks and stacks of photos arranged in the box before you. There even seem to be books underneath those, thick ones despite the shallowness of the container. You’d say there’s easily hundreds of pictures in here.

But, more concerning than the amount of photos… is their content.

They’re all you.

Undeniable, from every angle and range and setting you could imagine, it’s all you. There’s you at your spot with your friends, sitting in class, in the cafeteria, running errands in town, sneaking off to that private spot nobody else is supposed to know about, asleep in your bed- in dozens and dozens of iterations, like you could probably make a flip book of every scene.

It’s offensively redundant, honestly, a gross waste of paper. Maybe equally as concerning.

(Adrian needs to keep physical copies, and hard drives, and backup hard drives, and another box further under the dresser... What if something happens to his phone? What if he lost all his treasured photos forever? He doesn’t know what he’d do.)

"You're a bigger creep than I gave you credit for." You murmur, mostly to yourself.

Adrian never thought he'd feel anything but sheer joy from hearing that word leave your mouth. "N-no! It's not- it's not like that! I'm not- I don't-"

While Adrian's still blustering and working himself into a tizzy, you're just... processing.

It's oddly unsurprising, once you consider all the other factors together. Looking at it now, of course Adrian had more perverted reasons for complying to your cruelty, what else could he have been getting out of it? You guess you kinda always knew, on some level, but you never thought it would be like this.

But, since it is, you can't help but wonder just how far this perversion has gone, how far it will go...

This night has been boring enough that you're entitled to a little fun, right?

And besides, looking at him now- all wide eyed and droopy eared, his tail pulled between his legs and clutched in his trembling hands- Adrian actually looks a little bit... cute? In a pathetic, dirty stray caught in the rain type of way, of course.

The only real difference is that you'd be much kinder to the stray.

"Alright, shut it, stalker."

Adrian's mouth snaps closed, his tail trying to tuck further at your dangerously low voice.

"Obviously, this severe-" you flap a stack of photos at him, causing him to duck his head and whimper, "-invasion of my privacy can't go unpunished."

Adrian's eyes become impossibly bigger as they flash up to watch you stand. His ears suddenly perk, his tail tugs against his grip as it tries to hesitantly wag.

Jesus, he's shameless.

This is gonna be fun.

But first, a plan. You don't want Adrian getting too bold, so what better way to keep him in his place than by tying him there? Looking around his room, you don't have much to work with, but you're resourceful; a lace from his sneakers should do just fine (who keeps shoes in their room? what a creep).

"Alright. Sit."

Adrian is falling to his knees before his brain can process the words. When it does, he isn't quick enough to bite down on the high keen that builds in his throat.

You scoff, mentally scorning yourself for ignoring his shit for so long, then go to pull a lace. Adrian watches in rapt attention as you test its strength, your hands flexing so tantalizingly as you pull the string harshly several times over.

He holds his breath on instinct when your scrutinizing glare scans the room again.

"Okay, bed. Back to the headboard. Now."

Adrian scrambles up immediately, pulling some of the sheets off in his hurry, eager to obey before you change your mind.

You follow right after, kneeling up and leaning over him to tie his hands to the headboard above him. His dry throat click as he gulps.

You're so close, your heavenly scent filling his lungs like a sweet paralyzing vapor, he can feel the heat radiating from your skin despite the clothes between you, he could probably taste you if he just stuck out his tongue...

He whines as you yank the shoelace tight with a grunt before tying it off. You tug on his hands once more, forcing the string deeper into his skin, and your hum of satisfaction is drowned out by Adrian's low groan.

What a wonderful feeling, the sharp sting of the lace grounding him down like he needs to be; he can't help twisting and pulling until the burn intensifies, imagining it's your firm hands holding him so tightly...

"Jesus, freak, you're already getting into it?"

Adrian just whimpers, barely registering the question past your condescending tone as he continues to squirm.

You suddenly grab the front of his shirt and pull him forward until he's partially hovering off the mattress, the combined pressure of your knuckles under his chin and the shoestring grating his tender wrists pulls a breathy moan along with.

You lean in close, practically growling as you say, "Don't do my job for me, mutt."

You press a relatively fresh bruise on his arm just to see him twitch and bite his lip (it’s actually from a week ago, that’s how good he is at maintaining your marks for you!). It is pretty gratifying.

Almost as gratifying as the bulge you spot between his wantonly spread legs.

A breathless laugh punches out of you. It's oddly jarring to see, and you would later deny that it's slightly impressive, but it's not an entirely unpleasant sight.

"God, you're fucking pathetic. But you know that, don't you, you little creep?"

If your words weren't enough to have Adrian shaking out of his skin, you lean closer and nip his ear; he jerks back instinctively at the pain, which only makes its sting so much sweeter when you sink your teeth in and pull back.

He doesn’t bother trying to keep himself quiet.

“This isn’t even a punishment for you, is it? Is it, you fucking perv?”

Adrian is so far beyond saving face, he’s mostly beyond communication of any kind, so he just shakes his head fervently and grunts and hopes it’s good enough.

“Use your words, mutt.”

He gasps as you yank his throbbing ear, pulling his face closer to yours- oh dear god he can feel your hot breath against his cheeks, every detail of your perfect face so confident and dangerous and ethereal, your sparkling eyes look positively deadly and Adrian is ready to submit himself to their perils-

“Answer me," your sharp words make his lashes flutter, but he keeps his eyes wide open to stare at your taunting smile hanging just inches from his face, "are you getting off on this?”

He nods, he’s starting to get dizzy with all this nodding but he doesn't feel capable of much else, then you tug his hair back with the most glorious burn-

“Ah-Yes! Yes, I love- I love it, please- give me- more- please, I need- I need-“

He cuts off with a choked sound as your fingers slide up his throat and tighten, all too happy to oblige.

"That what you want? You happy now?" You taunt, your breath against the shell of his ear raising goosebumps all over his body.

He tries to nod against your grip, causing you to smirk and push further.

Oh god yes please-

Garbled moans fight their way from his throat as his eyes roll back in ecstasy, his straddled legs pressing tightly together as he thrashes desperately against the headboard, his whole body trembling and pushing up and up in search of contact- but you keep pulling away, putting more pressure on his neck to support yourself, bringing out the most pitiful little whimpers.

"Use your words, puppy."

Puppy.

Adrian chokes for reasons entirely unrelated to your hand on his neck. His tail, which had been beating a rapid tempo since you sat him down, starts flailing into overdrive.

It takes considerably more effort, but Adrian needs to please you- maybe you’ll even reward him!- so he coughs and gasps until he can force out,

"Y-Yes,” a strained cough, “Tha-agh-thank- you-"

A smile curls your lips unbidden. Such initiative! You let your fingers stroke over his throat as your hand presses in harder.

"There, that's a good boy."

Adrian's vision whites out.

He’s not even aware of the stream of whines and moans that force their way from beneath your fingers, he doesn't notice how his body squirms against the pressure of you on top of him, he couldn't tell the frantic thumping of his tail from that of his heart- all he can focus on is the red hot ecstasy filling every inch of him to bursting, the transcendent bliss of being so thoroughly claimed, so completely controlled, so wholly owned by you.

He's still hiccupping moans and thumping his tail when you withdraw your hand for fear of suffocating him, these needy little noises escaping his already bruising throat.

His head lolls back and his mouth falls open as you remain suspended above him, taking in your handiwork.

He’s so vulnerable, his entire body open and happily exposed to you, every muscle trembling in the aftershocks. His chest heaves as sweat and tears drip down onto his shirt, but he seems to pay no mind as his vacant eyes flutter up at you. He struggles to keep them open as a dopey grin spreads across his bitten lips, and you have to bite your own to stop from returning it.

Then, your eyes travel down to the steadily shrinking tent of his pants, now adorned with a dark wet stain- just like you expected.

Hot.

"Pathetic."

You sit back on you heels, seemingly alerting Adrian to your absence as his hand flies up to grab his throat with a high whine- but you cut that shit off right away.

"Yeah, no, I'm not trying to catch a murder charge tonight, thanks. Besides," your eyes pointedly flick down between his spread legs, causing his face to heat up though he makes no move to close them, "it looks like you got more than your share- frankly, you should be grateful for anything I'm willing to give you."

Adrian's voice is hoarse when he tries to insist, "I am! I-" he cuts off with a heavy cough, which only has you wincing with guilt a little. "I'm- I'm grateful. I am!"

You don't doubt it, especially looking into those watery, red-rimmed puppydog eyes of his. However, you do like to be cruel, and you did just get a bunch of texts from some of your friends about this 'super crazy thing you don't wanna miss and you gotta get down here right now!', (and you're maybe feeling a little uncharacteristically giddy as you fully process your situation) so...

"Doesn't matter, I can't reward this insolence."

You untie the shoelace with a deft tug and slide off the bed without another word.

Adrian just barely stops himself from whining again, the sudden loss of the pressure around his wrists leaving him feeling untethered. He has to dig his nails into his hands as he watches you collect your things (the covered platter lay forgotten on the table, insult to injury), just to keep from reaching out for you.

He wants desperately to follow you, but he can't make his body move for how relaxed and heavy it feels, and he knows it would probably just upset you more anyway- and not in the good way.

“Oh, and Adrian?” You slap the doorframe as you hang off of it, and your use of his name has Adrian's groggy head springing up to face you instantly, ears high and eyes hopeful.

“Next time you want a picture of me, just ask. That way I can knock some sense into you right away.” You tap the frame again, a crooked grin fixing your lips before you push off.

“See ya tomorrow!”

Still too fuzzy to move, and in fresh shock from that almost-genuine smile, he can only listen forlornly as your steps grow fainter and fainter until the door shuts downstairs. Then, he's helpless to do anything beyond replay the events of the past ten minutes in obsessive detail in attempts to permanently document every single sensation you gave to him.

He only manages to move about a half hour later, when his phone buzzes with a text.

He slowly leans over the bed and lifts his phone from the floor, blinking blearily as he reads... your name. Attached to a ludicrously extravagant lunch order for tomorrow.

The phone drops from his fingers like lead.

How?

His heart starts racing as he wracks his brain to recall when you put his number in your phone- then, his tail starts up again as he wonders if he'll be punished for already having yours in his (not for anything weird! he just likes to type out walls of text complimenting every part of you and telling you exactly the ways he wants you to destroy him and then deleting them- but maybe he'll send the next one).

It must mean something good if you want to keep in close contact with him, right? That must mean you aren't really mad at him, right? That must mean you like him, right? You still think he’s a good boy, right?

Another text lights up his phone. He scrambles to grab it back, hands shaking as he holds the screen close to his face.

[ur gnna b my bitch 4evr now]

A shaky giggle escapes him.

Those are easily the most beautiful words he’s ever read.

thanks so much for reading! feel free to send a request <3

check my pinned post~

[ixiot-ghostrebel]

Ok ok. I'm back from the dead, And with another headcannon! following my last music related ask

What if after the characters hear our music they start subconsciously humming, or even singing it? After all the creator never has their computer volume on... exept this time we do! And we hear venti, or Barbara, or another character singing our favorite song A LOT. So much so that instead of the usual voices it's all song references and lyrics... I imagine it going something like this:

(venti dies) "don't worry... I'm never going to let you down.."

OR

(Barbara's afk) "la- La- LA- ehem, I'm working late because I'm a singer~"

Well a long night of trying to find out if it was an event mihoyo planned or something else is surely waiting right?

- 🦇

OMG HI 🦇 ANON HRUUUU

Dwdw, Ghost Rebel's been dead as well—you have not been the only one, rest assured 🥲

For this request, I won't be really focusing much on what music the Reader listens to (entirely up to you imo), so apologies if this affects your reading experience!

(The Request 🦇 Anon Mentioned)

Ayo, They Know My MUSIC ✨😎

(Warning: Might be OOC!)

Who would've thought that all that singing pays off—now, all musicians and bards of Teyvat are reciting Their Almighty Grace's ballads like they're some holy, ancient harmonies (to them, it probably is—somehow—)

Let's see what our favorite ones have been up to! :D

Venti

With the amount of times you vibed to your songs, Venti's picked them up by listening through the wind. You can 100% assume that he is vibing to it, no matter what time or moment.

People thought he was singing his own ballads when he was humming your songs, when, in fact, he's listening to you jamming out in the distance.

So imagine your shock when you hear Venti sing your song. It was as shocking as Venti without his wine.

"Hehe~ Their Grace looks so flabbergasted!" Venti in the bg just cheering over the fact he made you shocked at his impression of your song!

Bro has zero regrets for breaking the Fourth Wall.

Barbara

Girlie is singing her heart out in the Church of Favonius, and everyone's there for it. 100% she has become the true Idol of Mondstadt.

Super excited and nervous at the same time when you put her in your party team (for whatever reason, only you will know), because this is a chance to show off her practice. She wants to impress you with the song she's heard you sing and hum to countless of times!

So the moment she let it slip through her idle animation, imagine her embarrassment as you flip out, questioning your life choices and your sleep deprivation

"S-Surely, I didn't scare Their Almighty Grace all too badly...?" Barbara's twiddling her fingers, contemplating if she should've done that in the first place, only to be reassured when the other nuns of the church mention that you were screaming how good it was (Ex. "HELLO???? BARBARA???? THAT WAS SO GOOD HELLO??? VOICE ACTOR BE POPPING OFF MAYBE??? THIS GLITCH IS AWESOME!")

Yes, she's doing this again. Add her back to her team. Now. :)

Xinyan

Oh, she is going to rock'n'roll hard after this. She is definitely going to make a rock cover of your song and play it all through Liyue!

Gurl's on her merry way, practicing with her guitar and singing loud and proud! Yunjin be cheering her on in the background as she masters that small snippet of your favorite song >:D

And when it's her time to shine? When you finally give her the chance to perform? Sure, she's nervous—she's only got one shot, and who knows when the next one will come—but she's gonna rock this song with everything she's got, heart, soul, and mind!

The moment you see it happening, Xinyan's a little too into it to care of your reaction at first, pretty much having a blast at the lyrics and overall music composition.

But after? "Whoo, I sure hope Their Grace liked it...Maybe I should've taken in how they were reacting instead of going all out, hehe..." Her legs are kind of shaking from her nerves, but she swears she's fine!

Upon seeing how the citizens of Liyue Harbor are acting though, and with the amount of positive comments her friends kept giving her, Xinyan is calling her performance an absolute success!

She is definitely doing this again—10/10!

Ghost Rebel Side Notes: THIS TOOK TOO LONG TO MAKE I AM SO SORRY UGHHHH. I hate it when I say I'd be active and then the next thing I know, I'm being bombarded with irl problems >:(

Anyways! A few updates as I'm writing this: I am no longer taking Sagau Genshin requests for now (even if I might still be writing for a few—there's some waiting in my inbox that I gotta get to), as I need a break to recharge my batteries. However: HSR and Wuthering Waves are free and up for requests, so don't be shy to shoot your shots there!

✦ Check out The Ghost Rebel’s Blog Description & Info Page to See if Their Mailbox is Open! ✦

[futurewdclandonorris]

What Are Friends For | George Russell⁶³

Pairings: George Russell x fem!bestfriend!reader

Summary: George is frustrated after a bad race and as his best friend you take it as your responsibility to make him feel better

Warnings: smut

A/N: this could be taken as part 2 of this, but you don't have to necessarily read it

George was charging through the Mercedes motorhome to his driver's room. Barely catching up to his long strides, you followed after him. Immediately, it was obvious that something was wrong. He didn't even stop to take off his helmet, much less check on you. The last time he had sprinted into the hospitality like this, he had collided with a TV crew and sent them rolling across the concrete floor.

The race started good, excellent even. The lead-in to the start was exciting. The initial straightaway was wide and flat, then leading down into a series of lazy curves. He blazed past the other racers with ease. Everything indicated that he was going to win that one, or at least end up on the podium. But everything took a wrong turn in the end.

Like he didn't know you were behind him, he almost slammed the door shut in your face.

"George!" you pushed through, but it was like he didn't even notice you.

He was in a state of frenzy, pacing around the room, his helmet still on and his eyes wild and unfocused. You had seen him like this only a handful of times before, and it always meant trouble. You knew how important this race was for George. He had been working tirelessly for weeks, preparing for this moment only to be taken away in a matter of seconds.

A stream of muffled curse words left his mouth as he finally began to remove his helmet.

"George, it's not your fault..." you knew better than to speak up right now, but you felt like you should say something when you're already there.

George turned to you with a look of anger in his eyes. "Not my fault?! Do you even know what happened out there?!" he shouted, dropping his helmet on the desk. "I was leading the race, and that idiot just had to ram into me and send me spinning off the track!"

You took a step back, not wanting to push him further, but George continued his tirade. "I had it in the bag, I was going to win, but now it's all ruined!" he yelled, pacing back and forth across the room.

"I know, George, but it happens to the best of them," you said, trying to calm him down.

George turned to you, his chest heaving with anger. "I don't want to hear it," he spat. "I'm sick and tired of this. I pour my heart and soul into this sport, and for what? To have it all taken away in an instant?"

You watched as he ran his hands through his hair, his eyes filled with frustration and disappointment. You knew that George was a perfectionist, and losing was not an option for him.

You nodded, understanding. "I'm sorry, George. I know it's tough."

He let out a heavy sigh. "I don't know what to do. I feel like I let everyone down. My team, my sponsors, myself."

"You didn't let anyone down, George. These things happen. It's part of the sport," you said, trying to reassure him.

"But I was so close to winning. I could taste it," he muttered, staring off into the distance.

"You'll have another chance," you said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You're a great driver, George. You'll bounce back from this."

George glared at you, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't want to just win the next race. I wanted to win this one. This was my chance and I lost it."

You took a step back, unsure of what to say to him. You knew that he was in a delicate state, and any wrong word could set him off again. There was a moment of silence, as the two of you stood there, the weight of the disappointment heavy in the air.

"If there's anything I can do to help-"

"How could you possibly help?!" he snapped again, turning around.

You flinched at the tone of his voice, closing your eyes and reassuring yourself that he wasn't mad at you. He slumped onto the couch, covering his face with his hands. After a moment, he dragged them down along his face exhaling deeply.

"I'm sorry." he said more softly, his eyes searching for yours.

"It's fine." you said. "I've gotten used to it. I know you're not actually upset with me." you gave him a weak smile.

"I don't want you getting used to something that shouldn't even happen in the first place." he looked at you apologetically.

"I don't mind-"

"You should." he cut you off.

"Alright then, let me help you feel better." you walked up to him and stood in between his legs.

George looked up at you, exhaustion evident in his eyes. "I don't think anything can make me feel better right now," he said, his voice flat.

"Well, there's one thing I can certainly try to ease the tension." your hands undid the collar of his suit and found the zipper, pulling it down.

"Wh-What are you-"

"Just relax, George." you smiled, your hands removing the overalls from his broad shoulders and revealing his black fireproofs.

George's eyebrows furrowed as he watched you, confusion written all over his face. He was still too caught up in his own disappointment to understand what you were doing. You leaned in closer to him, your fingers trailing over his chest. Your palms slid down his abdomen as you sank down to your knees in front of him.

George's eyes widened as he watched you sink to your knees, his breath catching in his throat. He couldn't believe what was happening, but he also couldn't deny that his body was responding to your touch, his eyes darting back to the door for a moment before returning to you. You could see the tension in his body slowly dissipating as you continued to touch him.

Just when you were about to take his racing suit further down, he caught at your wrists.

"Are you sure about this?" he asked, his voice shaking slightly.

"Yeah, you helped me last time, now I want to return the favor."

"You don't have to do this. You don't owe me anything." he looked more intensely in your eyes.

It's been a few weeks since the event that occurred in George's kitchen, but neither of you has mentioned it at all since then, as per your request. Although you didn't let it show, it was lingering in the back of your mind, constantly nagging you.

"I know." you said like it was obvious. "But I want to. Let me take care of you like you took care of me."

George hesitated for a moment, his eyes searching yours. Then he nodded, his grip on your wrists loosening as he leaned back on the couch. "Okay," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, your fingers continuing their exploration of his body, taking in the contours of his muscles and the warmth of his skin. George inhaled sharply as your hands continued to undress him, his hips lifting up to help you, revealing the tight black boxers he wore underneath. You ran your hands over the bulge in his shorts, feeling him start to harden under your touch.

"Is this okay?" you asked, your eyes meeting his.

His eyes seemed to soften, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He nodded slowly, "Definitely."

You dug your fingers in the waistband of his underwear, but there he was, stopping you again.

"It's not too late to back out of this if you want." he put his hands over yours.

"George, I swear to god if you interrupt me again I just might. I am not backing out." you said, your voice firm and unwavering.

"Sorry." he put his hands up in defense, smiling a little.

You slid his boxers down, taking in the sight of his growing cock, shiny and wet with a small drop of pre-cum. You rubbed your thumb over the head, feeling the pre-cum spread over his shaft. George moaned, his hands going to your hair, running his fingers through it. He let his head fall back on the couch, his eyes closed as his hips started moving in small circles.

George's cock was nice and long, and seeing it only made you want to taste it. You let your hand crawl up the column of his cock, teasing the underside with your fingers.

"Ahh, y/n..." he groaned, a look of pleasure on his face.

You felt a shiver run through your body at the sound of your name. The amount of passion and lust in that one word was like music to your ears. You felt your confidence rise at the sound of it, your lips wrapping around his head.

George let out another groan, his body arching towards you. You bobbed your head up and down, your tongue curling around his cock as you moved.

It was warm and smooth, and you couldn't get enough of it. The taste flooded your mouth. You felt yourself getting wet, the sound of George's heavy breathing spurring you on. You continued to work his cock, letting it hit the back of your throat before letting it slide back out, your hands softly cupping his balls.

George let out another moan as you nailed his sweet spot, his cock hitting the back of your mouth over and over. His hips started to buck against you as he approached his climax, a hand gripping the back of your head.

Your jaw was getting tired from sucking him off, but you didn't want him to finish just yet. You released him from your mouth, lapping at his tip, letting your tongue circle around him. You let go of him, taking a break before you took him back in your mouth, sucking on him even harder than before, letting your spit drip all over his cock.

"Please, don't stop." he panted, his voice hot and heavy.

You hummed a little around his member, your hands gripping his hips as you deep throated him more. You watched as his toes curled, his eyes closed shut, his face completely lost in pleasure.

"Ahh.. ahh..." he gasped, his body tensing up. "I'm coming." He let out one last moan before you felt his cock throbbing in your mouth.

Then he released, warm cum shooting into your mouth. "You don't have to... Fuck, you swallowed."

You let the salty liquid slide down your throat, massaging his cock as you slowly released it, sucking the last of it from the tip while keeping eye contact. You licked your lips, savoring the taste.

"Wait," he said, and ran his thumb over the corner of your mouth, wiping off any leftovers.

You grabbed his wrist and put his finger into your mouth, sucking and twirling your tongue around it.

He sighed, his body feeling lighter than it has in a long time. "Holy shit."

You released his thumb with a pop, smiling mischievously. "Is that all you can say?"

"I'm still recovering from this," he said, his voice light and airy as he looked down at you. His chest heaved heavily as he caught his breath, his hands moving to brush through your hair, lightly gripping your scalp. "God, you're amazing."

"So... You feel better?" you asked, your eyes watching his, a light from within them that wasn't there before.

He nodded, a smile on his lips. "Much better."

"Good." you said, the sight of him making you feel good.

"Uh, I should clean up..." he said.

"Oh, right," you exclaimed, pulling up his boxer for him and standing up.

"Wait," he said, grabbing your hand. "Can we... not let this get awkward between us?"

Maybe George finally understood how you felt the last time when you asked the same from him.

You nodded, your hand still in his. "Of course not."

"Great," he said, his free hand grabbing yours. He pulled you towards him, his hand running up and down your side. "I really, really enjoyed this."

"I did too," you replied, your hand on his chest.

"Thank you." he kissed your forehead and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

As you sat at the desk, you couldn't help but think about what you had done. Even though the gesture was for George, there was a part of you that knew it was for yourself too. Ever since he helped you get off that one time at his place, your mind wouldn't stop replaying the memory. You knew that something like that could never happen again, but now that you've repaid him -even though he would have never asked- there was a weight lifted off your shoulders.

You understood that no matter what happened between you two, that even if things were awkward at first, in the grand scheme of things everything would be okay. Your friendship was stronger than anything else. You've overcome it before, you can certainly do it again.

That was, until…

Next part

[p1utofairy]

PAC: “i get so weak in the knees, i can hardly speak. i lose all control and something takes over me…” 💌⏳🦢🍸

• how does your crush currently feel about you?

disclaimer ✩: 18+ mature themes. here's something to kick off fall 🍂 take what resonates, leave what doesn’t. enjoy!

pile 1 📩 —

heyyy pile 1! let's jump right into your reading 🤗 i'm already hearing that you think about your crush A LOT like you can't get them off your mind even if you tried and they feel the exact same way. you two mirror each other so if you feel intensely about them, they're also feeling intensely about you even if they don't convey that outwardly (i.e. their facial expressions/body language) i feel like they’re not used to having a huge crush on someone, it usually just kinda…happens for them??? like they don't usually have to put a lot of work in to make someone fall for them (bc i'm visually seeing that they're pretty damn attractive) but that's not gonna cut it with you — they just can't get by on their looks. you're big on taking your time to get to know someone and building up that level of trust and respect. you carry yourself very well pile 1 and that's really what made them do a double take when they first saw you. you're 1 of 1 — they've never seen anyone like you before. i'm hearing that some of you may look exotic or people tell you that you resemble a specific celebrity a lot? idk but just know you get the blood rushing through their veins lol they can't help but feel excited when they're around you, yet they barely know you which is the crazy part. they feel like they know you but they don't…and that's what so intriguing to them. stranger by jhené aiko is coming to mind, “i know ya face, i know ya name but i don't know you? isn't that crazy? isn't that crazy?” you may judge them at first and already think the worst like “oh i bet they’re a player!” but don’t jump to conclusions! give it a chance. they may actually surprise you and treat you like royalty, cause i feel a lot of adoration coming from their end…even though they know little to nothing about you. i want you around by snoh aalegra is playing in my head, “it's somethin' 'bout the way you stare into my eyes. i know that i don't make things clear. i fall for you every time i try to resist you.” they’re gonna fall hard for you pile 1. they’re definitely going to want to get serious and make this official which will shock you both, because of how fast things will just come together naturally. AHHH I LOVE IT.

other channeled messages:

whoa by snoh aalegra, kiss me thru the phone by soulja boy ft. sammie, tattoos, glasses, scorpio placements/scorpio moon, wifey, bright smile, almond shaped eyes, petite figure, girl of my dreams, kissin’ on my tattoos by august alsina, u are my high by dj snake & future, prominent air sign placements

pile 2 ⚖️ —

hiiiii pile 2 💓 right away i’m hearing that your crush feels like you’re unattainable? you might be really popular or a naturally social person that everyone clings to, and they find this a bit intimidating. they don’t know how to approach you – they've been trying to figure out how to get your attention but little do they know that they already have it. y'all might have a dynamic like summer and seth from ‘the O.C.’ and/or stiles and lydia from ‘teen wolf’ aw when they find out you like them back it'll most likely catch them off guard like “who?! ME?!” lol they’re so cute. you’re very dreamy to them, they'll damn near start drooling when you’re in close proximity to them…i’m also hearing that they love the way you dress. you show just enough to let their imagination wander lol idk if they wanted me to say that cause i can see their cheeks getting red and them getting all flustered 🤣 let me just say that they respect you so much! they’ll feel so lucky to finally get to know you on a personal level because they’ve been inquiring about you for awhile now. you’ll be everything that they dreamed of plus more & vice versa. there’s definitely a best friend dynamic at the root of this connection, you both will be able to be yourselves unapologetically when you're together. i feel sooo much warmth and comfort. idk why belly and jeremiah from ‘the summer i turned pretty’ just popped up in my head lol but yeah they will love holding you gently and staring into your eyes longingly 😩 SO ADORBS.

other channeled messages:

the cool girl & the gamer boy, no idea by don toliver, just talk to her dude, victor from corpse bride, timothée chalamet, bilingual, hit different by sza ft. ty dolla $ign, my forever boy, good days by sza, skateboarding

pile 3 ⚓️ —

pile 333 💫 what's up!!! i channeled a song for y'all already, come over by aaliyah is coming in strongly. “i know you're asleep but you're on my mind and i'm wide awake and i wanna stop by.” ooo there’s a very sensual vibe between you and your crush, a lot of sexual attraction and tension i'm picking up. you two would make a great looking couple — a lot of people will be looking at you two when you're interacting with each other. it's like “can those two get a room already and just fuck” LMAOOO some will be hating but others will just be admiring like damn i wish i had that. i feel like your crush makes you act really shy lol you try to muster up the courage to look them in the eye and be bold but you fold every time lol i’m hearing them say “don’t be shy baby” 😩 your crush knows what they're doingggggg omg they just love to tease you. a couple that's coming to mind is joey and pacey from ‘dawson's creek’ you may not have paid them much mind initially but one day something clicked and you were like damn…i really like them. it might take a little minute for y'all to officially get together but once you two do…WHEW. i told y'all the sexual tension is through the roof — i’m hearing this is that 90’s r&b type of love. a lot of slow burn and building up to the real thing. they think so much about what it'll be like to finally be able to hold you, kiss you and treat you properly. you evoke a lot of inspiration, motivation and passion in them pile 3 <3

other channeled messages:

halfcrazy by musiq soulchild, take a picture it'll last longer, lavender haze by taylor swift, muse by partynexydoor, capricorn placements/capricorn venus, you're like my own personal brand of heroin - edward cullen (lol)

[wolverigrl]

I'm going through a similar situation, so maybe it will help me having a little more confidence in myself. Also shout out to my bf always late. ✌🏻 (If you read this babe, I love you)

Hugh x younger reader (30s-50s). The reader traveled out of the US for her friend's b-day and asked Hugh to be her partner. He senses her nervousness and asks her why, she confesses that there will be other people who made fun of her/weren't real friends with her and he makes sure his girl has the perfect outfit and shows her how beautiful she is when she's wearing her self confidence. Everyone at the party looks at her realizing they were messing with the wrong girl.

The Right Kind of Confidence

Hugh Jackman x f!reader

A/N: You are all beautiful and enough. This world needs more of you, sweet souls. Never ever forget this! xx

Warnings: mentions of past bullying, maybe some angst, cheesy

Enjoy!

---------------------------------------------------

It all started with an innocent text. Or at least, that’s how I tried to rationalize it.

I’d been invited to my old friend Emily’s birthday party in London - she’d relocated there a few years back. It was supposed to be a fun, carefree getaway, a chance to reconnect with old friends. But when the invite arrived, nestled deep in the email chain, I couldn’t shake the creeping dread.

Along with me, there were others on the guest list - people I hadn’t seen in years. People who had once made high school and college more difficult than it needed to be. The thought of facing them again sent a cold shiver through me.

Still, I knew I couldn’t skip Emily’s big day. She’d been a real friend through thick and thin, and I’d promised myself I wouldn’t let the bad memories dictate how I lived my life.

So, I sent that text to Hugh, feeling a bit ridiculous.

Y/N: Hii❤️ I’ve got an invite to a birthday party in London. Any chance you’d want to come with me?

I hit send before I could second-guess myself. It was the first time I’d asked him to travel for something personal, not work-related or vacation-focused. Hugh had always been the kind of guy who loved adventure, but I wasn’t sure if "be my emotional support at a party full of people who once bullied me" counted as an adventure.

My phone buzzed just minutes later. Hugh’s name lit up the screen.

HUGH: London? I’ve always got time for that. When do we leave? ;)❤️

The sigh of relief I let out could have been heard across the street. I grinned down at the phone, a warmth spreading through me that had nothing to do with the cup of coffee in my hands.

The days leading up to the trip passed in a blur of planning, nerves, and packing. Hugh handled everything with his usual calm, even helping me pick out a dress for the party - a gorgeous satin piece that made me feel like I was ready for the red carpet, even if my stomach was in knots over the thought of facing those old 'friends' again.

When the day finally came, Hugh and I met at the airport. His easygoing nature had a calming effect on me, even as I lugged my suitcase through the busy terminal, the excitement of the trip warring with the old insecurities gnawing at my mind.

"You ready for London?" Hugh asked, pulling me in for a quick hug before we went through security. He had a sparkle in his eyes, like the trip was going to be nothing but fun for him.

I tried to return his smile, but I could feel my nerves creeping back.

"Yeah, definitely. Just didn't thought of seeing some of the people again. It’s bringing back all kinds of old memories."

Hugh furrowed his brow, clearly picking up on the shift in my mood. He placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"We don’t have to go, you know. If this is going to make you uncomfortable, just say the word."

I shook my head quickly, not wanting to back out now.

"No, I want to go. I just don’t want to spend the whole trip in my head worrying about it."

His expression softened, and he looked at me like he was trying to figure out exactly what to say to make me feel better.

"Well if anyone has a problem with you, they’re the ones who need to grow up."

I smiled, feeling some of the tension ease out of my shoulders. "Thanks, Hugh. I don’t know what I was thinking asking you to come along on this, but I’m really glad you did."

"Are you kidding? A trip to London with you? I’d never pass that up!" he said, his voice light but sincere.

By the time we landed in London, the nerves had faded somewhat, replaced by excitement. We checked into the hotel, and as I watched the city’s skyline from our room, I felt the promise of a good trip begin to settle in my bones. With Hugh here, maybe this would be the perfect opportunity to prove to myself that the past didn’t hold any power over me anymore.

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the hem of my dress for what felt like the hundredth time. It was a soft satin, flowing in all the right places, hugging my body just right. By any other measure, it was perfect. But tonight, I felt like it wasn’t enough - like I wasn’t enough.

"Everything okay in there?" Hugh’s deep voice filtered in from the hotel room’s balcony, where he was enjoying the sunset. I could hear the lilt of concern, even through the casual tone.

"Yeah!" I called back, trying to steady my nerves. "Just finishing up."

I stared at my reflection, hoping my face didn’t betray the knot of anxiety in my stomach. It had been years since I’d seen some of these people - people who had, at best, pretended to be friends. At worst, they’d made me the butt of their jokes when they thought I wasn’t looking.

They’d perfected the art of making someone feel invisible, but always in a way that you couldn’t call out.

Now, I was about to walk back into that. The only difference? This time, I wasn’t alone. I had Hugh by my side.

As much as I wanted to believe I’d outgrown that insecure version of myself, she was clawing her way back up to the surface, reminding me of every cruel laugh, every dismissive glance.

The door creaked as Hugh stepped inside, making his way toward me. I looked up at him in the mirror, catching his reflection as he leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, an amused smile playing at his lips. He looked effortlessly handsome with his salt and pepper beard and his dark suit with the shirt open at the collar. Just the right mix of casual and polished.

The sight of him should have been enough to calm me down, but instead, my stomach twisted tighter.

"You look gorgeous." he said, pushing off from the door and coming up behind me, his hands settling gently on my hips. He pressed a soft kiss to my temple, his warm breath brushing against my skin.

"So why do you look like you’re about to faint?"

I let out a shaky laugh, avoiding his eyes in the mirror. "I'm fine, really. Just it’s been a while since I’ve seen these people."

He raised an eyebrow, his hands still resting firmly on my hips. "And that’s what’s bothering you?"

I sighed, feeling the weight of it all pressing down. There was no point in pretending with Hugh. He could always see through me.

"There are people coming tonight who weren’t exactly nice to me. A lot of them didn’t even pretend to be my friends."

I admitted, my voice quieter than I intended. "I know I shouldn’t care, but it’s hard to shake that feeling. What if I’m just setting myself up for more of the same?"

Hugh’s grip tightened slightly on my hips, grounding me in the present.

"Hey.." he said softly, turning me around to face him. His gaze was steady, comforting.

"You’re not that person anymore. And they sure as hell don’t get to make you feel like you are."

I tried to smile, but the anxiety still gnawed at me.

"I know, I just… I want to walk in there feeling confident, like I belong."

He tilted his head, a thoughtful look crossing his face.

"You’re worried about confidence? With the way you look right now?" His eyes traveled over me appreciatively, and for a second, the knot in my stomach loosened.

"Love, you look stunning! You’ve got nothing to prove."

I let out another nervous laugh, though this time it was more from the warmth his words brought.

"Easy for you to say. You’re Hugh Jackman. You were voted the sexiest man alive in 2008. You could wear a garbage bag and people would still be tripping over themselves to tell you how amazing you are."

He laughed, stepping closer, his hand sliding up to cup my cheek.

"Okay, first of all, I’d rock that garbage bag!" He winked, making me smile. "But second - this isn’t about them. This is about you."

I felt his thumb gently brush my cheek as his voice softened.

"I’ve seen you, y/n. I’ve seen the way you handle people, the way you carry yourself. You’ve got more strength in you than they ever gave you credit for. They were wrong to underestimate you."

I looked into his eyes, my heart starting to slow, the tension easing out of my shoulders.

"But what if they try making me feel like that person again?"

Hugh smiled, a slow, confident curve of his lips as he pulled me closer, his forehead resting against mine. "They can try." he murmured. "But tonight, you’ve got something they never had - you know exactly who you are."

His words wrapped around me like a warm blanket, steadying the whirlwind in my chest. "And if that’s not enough." he added, his voice teasing now.

"I’ll be there, by your side, reminding them of what a mistake they made messing with you."

I laughed, the sound more genuine this time, and leaned into his chest.

"Thank you."

He kissed the top of my head before stepping back to get a better look at me.

"But there’s just one thing missing."

"What?"

He turned, heading toward his suitcase on the bed, and after a moment, he pulled out a small, velvet box. My heart skipped a beat, and I glanced at him, confused. We weren’t doing that. Were we?

Hugh chuckled when he saw my expression. "Relax. It’s not what you think."

He opened the box to reveal a delicate pair of earrings, simple yet elegant, catching the light in a way that made them sparkle like stars.

"These.." he said softly, stepping forward and taking one out. "Are for you.”

I blinked, feeling a lump form in my throat. "Hugh, they’re beautiful!"

He grinned as he gently hooked the earring onto my ear.

"I know you don’t need them to look beautiful, but consider them a little extra sparkle to remind you just how stunning you are - inside and out."

I swallowed the sudden emotion welling up inside me as he fastened the other earring. When he was done, I looked back in the mirror, and something had shifted. The dress that had felt just right now seemed to gleam with confidence. The earrings shimmered against my skin, catching the light, but it was Hugh’s words that had truly made me feel different.

I turned to face him, my heart swelling. "How do you always know exactly what to say?"

Hugh smiled, his hands resting on my shoulders.

"It’s easy when you mean every word." He leaned down, his lips brushing mine in a tender kiss.

His words sent a warmth flooding through me, melting away the last of my doubts. I looked up into his eyes, and for a moment, I could see what he saw - a woman who had grown, who had strength. The kind of person who didn’t need the approval of people who had never truly known her in the first place.

"Now, come on." he said, stepping back with a grin. "Let’s get ready to knock ’em dead!"

As we arrived at the party, I could feel that familiar tightness creeping into my chest again, but Hugh’s hand was warm and steady around mine. The moment we walked in, eyes turned in our direction. I could feel the weight of their stares, but instead of shrinking away, I stood taller.

Conversations paused, glances exchanged. The people who had once dismissed me or whispered behind my back were now watching with something resembling disbelief, but not for the reasons they used to. They were seeing someone different now - someone who had grown, evolved, and walked into that room with self-assurance that couldn’t be ignored.

Hugh stayed close, his presence solid and reassuring. But it wasn’t him they were looking at.

It was me.

Emily rushed over, beaming from ear to ear, pulling me into a tight hug.

"You made it! And you brought Hugh!"

"Of course!" I smiled, hugging her back. "Happy birthday, Em!"

We navigated through the crowd, making small talk with the birthday girl, my real friends, and slowly, I realized, it didn’t matter what those other people thought. I felt good. I felt powerful. Hugh had been right - I didn’t need to prove anything to anyone.

I caught sight of one of the girls from the past - the one who had always been the ringleader of the snide comments, the icy looks. She smiled at me now, but it was different. She was clearly taken aback, unsure of how to react.

I smiled back, polite but distant, and kept walking, letting that version of me - the one they used to push around - fade away for good.

We spent the rest of the night laughing, and enjoying the party, but through it all, Hugh never left my side. Every time I caught a glimpse of myself in a reflection, I saw it - not just the earrings, the dress, or even him at my side - but the confidence I had found within.

By the time we left, the air between us was lighter, free from the weight of those past insecurities. As we stepped out into the cool night, I turned to Hugh, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"You really did give me the best gift tonight." I said softly, looking up at him.

Hugh smiled, brushing a strand of hair from my face. "What’s that?"

"You made me see myself the way you see me."

He kissed me then, slow and deep, his arms wrapping tighter around me as if to remind me that no matter what, I was enough. I always had been.

"You’re incredible, love." he whispered against my lips. "Never forget that."

And with him by my side, I knew I never would.

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Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee

[homestylehughes]

coffee girl

part 1: the big spill

pairings: luke hughes x fem!reader

summray: on her way to an interview at the prudential Center, someone crashes into y/n someone causing her coffee to go everywhere, and that someone happens to be luke hughes.

wc: 786

warnings: slight angst? cussing, slight fluff. flustered and nervous reader and luke. nothing too crazy yet. OH cliffhanger..kindaa

au: hi everyone!! i'm back with another luke fic but most importantly i'm starting my FIRST ever series woooooohoooooooo. im super excited and nervous to write but i can't WAIT. anyways! i hope you guys enjoy the first part of this series. like and reblog if you'd like. thank you so much for all of the love on my other works, i'm so grateful.

happy reading <3

I'm late. Very late. I'm rushing. No, I'm sprinting. 

I'm late to the most important interview of my life, all because I wanted coffee. 

I shout out a quick “thank you!” to Bastria and sprint out the door. I have 5 minutes to get there. I think to myself I can get there on time. I can do this. 

Quickly running across the crosstalk, I can see the Prudential Center. Almost there, almost there. Shit, 3 minutes to spare. I pick up my speed, if that's even possible at this point. I can feel my neck beginning to sweat as I take each step.

As I turn to the arena, I feel a chest suddenly crash into mine, instantly feeling the cold liquid; my coffee runs down the front of me. 

I pull back from the stranger with a shriek. Looking down at my white shirt that's now covered in brown. My eyes began to water. This can not be happening to me. 

“Oh my gosh, shit I'm so sorry” I heard the stranger say, not being able to pull my head up to meet his eyes, if I did, he’d see mine filled with tears. 

I pull my wrist to my face to check the time, I'm 3 minutes late. Late. Now I'm crying, big hot tears are hitting my cheeks before I have the chance to stop them. 

“Hey hey don't cry, i'll get you a new shirt. Let me help you clean up” the stranger speaks again. 

I tilt my head up to finally look at the stranger and I can't believe my eyes. Luke Hughes. you're actually fucking kidding me. His eyes are locked with mine, I'm trying to search for words to say but I can't seem to find any. 

“H-here take my hoodie” Luke says as he pulls his hoodie off his body. Holding it out for me to grab it, taking the hoodie in my hands whispering a small “thank you” in his direction.

“you’re welcome” he says as he clears his throat, “again I'm really sorry” Luke speaks again. “It's okay” I sigh back, my eyes meeting him again, “ thank you for this, I have to go” I quickly say to him as I turn on my heel, I can feel more tears on my waterline threatening to spill. 

As I make my way away from him, rushing to find a bathroom. I hear someone shout “HEY” behind me, I turn around briefly, to see Luke still standing there “I NEVER GOT YOUR NAME, I'M LUKE” he shouts at me. “Y/N” I yell back, as I turn back around not waiting for his response.

 Im quickly rushing into the bathroom, taking in my disheveled state. Tearing off my shirt and throwing it in my bag as I put Luke's hoodie on, his scent filling my nose, he smells good I think to myself. I pull myself out of my trance quickly. Grabbing a paper towel and bringing it under my eyes and wiping away mascara that's fallen on my face. Fixing my hair, licking my lips deciding this is good enough. 

Glancing at my watch, to see that I'm now 10 minutes late. Shit. I began to run through the center, taking the stairs instead of the elevator, my chest and legs burning each step I took. 

Finally getting to the place where I'm set to have my interview. I slowly walk into the room, hoping my devils hoodie gives me brownie points and distracts them from the fact that I'm over 10 minutes late to my interview. 

  “Y/n! there you are! I was starting to think you wouldn't show!” “I'm Micheal but you can call me Mike,” Mike says to me as he holds his hand out to me, I quickly grab into a shake. “I'm super sorry I'm late” I say quickly, “I had a… coffee accident” I chuckle out. If you only know who ran into me, Mike, I say to myself. 

“Its okay, no worries! You're here now and that's all that matters!” he says back to me, i smile back at him. 

“Lets sit, and get this interview rolling” he says while pulling out a chair for me to sit in, quickly taking a seat placing my bag on the floor beside me. 

“Yes, let's get started!” I replied back, “oh nice Devils hoodie! I meant to tell you that when you walked in” he says to me. “Thank you!” I say as I look down at the hoodie. Thanking Luke in my head for bumping into me. 

“Okay let's get started, '' Mike says. Nodding my head quickly in response, i really hope I get this job, I say to myself. 

[ruh--roh-raggy]

Roller Rink (Boss! William Afton x Fem! Reader) - FLUFF

Hello hello! I wanted to write something short and sweet to get back into the swing of things, so have a skating date with Will! Let me know what you think!

���song recommendation🪩

WARNINGS: Age gap (reader in her mid 20's, Will is in his 40's), not edited, the fluffiest of fluff, Reader and Will skate together at a work party

My Masterlist! ~ Tip Jar! ~ A03 Link!

💜 Thank you for reading! If you like my work consider supporting me by liking/reblogging/leaving a comment below! 💜

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“Chrissy! Hey, hop in!” You call to the bubbly blonde who was already bouncing down the driveway, her skates slung over her shoulder. She piles into your Mercedes Wagon, vaulting over the middle row into the third row of seats that faced towards the back of the windshield.

“I can't believe your bosses rented out the entire Roll-A-Rama! They're so cool for letting you bring us!” One of them exclaims in the packed cab.

“Mr. Afton and Mr. Emily love to throw a good party.” You respond with a laugh. You pulled your sunglasses off the top of your head, shaking out your hair as it blew back in the breeze from the open window. You were on your way to Freddy’s annual summertime bash, your car filled with the excited screams of your friends. 

“Are we going to get to see you flirting with your man?” Your copilot teases, nudging your shoulder.

You can't help but scoff and roll your eyes in response, “my man?”

“Girl, come on! You have been in love with this man, forever! How have you not made a move yet?” Someone else chimes in from the back seat.

“Because he's my boss?” You reply through a dumbfounded laugh.

“That just makes him even hotter.” You hear someone argue in response, a collective agreement from the rest of the car.

“You guys are ridiculous.” You laugh, shaking your head. “Just try not to embarrass me too badly.”

“No promises, if he's hot I'm gonna have to say something.” 

You pull into the lot, recognizing a lot of your coworkers with their friends and family milling around in the parking lot, which appeared to be getting set up for a BBQ. “Everyone that’s drinking follow me to get wristbands!”

“Well, the party certainly has arrived.” Mr. Emily greets you all with a bright smile. “Ladies, how are we doing today?” He continues chatting casually as he checks all of your ID’s. He chuckles as he hands back the final license he had to check, “Hurricane has two r’s in it sweetheart.”  She cringes as he catches her fake. “Are you driving home?” He asks quietly.

“No, sir.” She responds nervously. He wraps the purple wristband around her wrist.

“If anyone asks, you stole it.” She nods, the look of pure shock on her face making you chuckle. “Now, which one of you lovely ladies is driving tonight.” You raise your hand. “Alright, you know the drill. Go give your keys to Will, he's going to hold them to make sure you're good to drive before you leave.” There was a hurried, excited murmur through your group, a couple elbows being exchanged at drawing too much attention.

It wasn't hard to find him, the hulking mass of man lurking by the skate rental counter was a relatively difficult sight to miss. He straightens up when he sees you approaching, you hear one of your friends let out an impressed ‘wow’ as he rises to his full height. “Do us all a favor.” She whispers to you. “Climb that man like a damn tree.”

They all hung back while you went to go talk to him. You willingly surrendered your keys to him before he even had the chance to ask. “Planning on getting into a little bit of trouble tonight, are we?” He asks with a smirk.

“Me? Never.” You pout playfully at him. “I'm hurt that you would even think that, Mr. Afton.” Your heart races as you watch his silvery eyes flicker over your form.

“You're right, a good girl like you would never cause any trouble.” Your cheeks grow warm as you try to come up with a flirty response.

“The only trouble I can see myself getting into tonight is with you.” He raises an eyebrow at you, an almost impressed expression passing over his features.

“Is that right?” He chuckles, taking a couple steps closer to you. “Careful, little lady, you're going to end up with a lot of unwanted attention from me tonight.” He chuckles.

“Who says it's unwanted?” You shoot back, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth and letting your eyes wander over his strong, broad shoulders. “I'll see you later, Mr. Afton.”

“Oh, yes you will, rabbit.” He winks at you before you hurry back to your friends.

“You're seriously blind if you can't see how into you he is.” You're immediately pulled into the squealing mass of girls all fawning over how cute you would be with Will. You weren't going to lie, you were really hoping he was planning on following through on his promise to see you later.

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After grabbing some food your group headed back inside, laughing as you all laced up your skates. “Mr. Emily!” You call out to him as you see him strolling past with his wife.

“Hey honey, how are you? Everyone's having fun I hope?” He asks with a cheerful smile.

“Oh yeah, we're having a blast! I was just wondering if, um, if you've seen Mr. Afton?” Your cheeks grew warm as the question tumbled from your lips.

“Will? He's already skating.” He leans down to speak quietly. “Between you and me, I think he's looking for you.” He chuckles.

“Me?” You ask, earning a nod from Mr. Emily. “Why would he be looking for me?”

“I've heard you're quite the skater, young lady, and Will is looking for someone… well, someone who can keep up with him.” He chuckles. One of your friends elbows you slightly, arching her brow at you. You're practically pulled from the bench, getting dragged to the wall to look out over the rink floor. Sure enough, you found Will. He wore a pair of dark purple skates with bright yellow wheels, which easily stood out from his otherwise entirely black ensemble of jeans and a tight fitting T-shirt. He was skating in the middle of the rink, easily gliding around the center as he practiced a few simple warm up moves in time with the music that was playing.

“What are you waiting for? Go talk to him!” You're ushered out onto the floor, nervously cracking your knuckles as you rolled in his direction.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to join me.” He glides over to you, you thought your boss was a big man before, but seeing him wearing roller skates gave him a new, even more monstrous height.

“Mr. Emily was telling me you were looking for a skating partner…” You trail off with a coy smile.

“You think you're up for the task?” He rebuttals with a chuckle.

“With all due respect, Mr. Afton, I may be young but I'd like to think I'm pretty talented.” He offers you his hand with a gentle smile.

“Then why don't you prove it, rabbit.” Your hand slips into his. You both started off slow, just rolling next to each other at the start.

“I didn't think you'd be into something like this.” You remark casually.

“There's a lot of things you don't know about me, little lady.” He chuckles.

“I guess you're right, but there's a lot you don't know about me either.” Will’s hand comes to the small of your back as he carefully steps around you, avoiding your coworker that was sprawled out on the floor after slipping on his skates.

“I know a lot more than you think, rabbit.” You barely caught his response, the feeling of his hand burning against your skin.

“Oh yeah? Like what?” You challenge.

“Well…” he pauses for a second to think. You had found yourself drifting closer to him the longer you skated. Your awkward gliding side by side now turning more into a synchronized strut as you allow yourself to bump into his side. His hand slides across your back, wrapping securely around your waist as he keeps you tucked safely into his side. “I know that you don't like crowds, you prefer colder weather because you always get so, adorably excited whenever you can start wearing sweaters again… and don't think I haven't noticed your little Fizzy-Faz obsession.” He finishes with a laugh.

“What flavor-” You're cut off as he suddenly stops down to bring his face closer to yours.

“Cherry, because it always stains your lips the prettiest shade of pink.” He shoots you a playful smirk, noticing your flustered expression. You perk up when the music changes, Will glances at you curiously.

“I love this song!” You exclaim giddily. One of your friends whips past you, spinning and dancing along to the beat.

“You want to go join your friends?” He asks, you could hear the twinge of disappointment in his voice.

“If it’s all the same to you Mr. Afton… I’d like to stay here with you.” A smile slowly stretches across his features.

“You can call me Will, sweetheart.” He responds with a chuckle. “And I’d love to have a pretty little thing like you on my arm all night.”

“Dance with me, then.” You insist with a coy smile.

“Don't have to tell me twice.” He smiles. He maneuvers himself behind you, his hands coming to rest on the curves of your waist as he allows you to take the lead. He follows you closely through some of your favorite moves, “guess you weren't all talk, were you, baby?” You smile, taking his hand in yours.

“What can I say? I found a pretty good partner.” He chuckles at your response. You squeal as he tightens his grip around your waist, pressing you into his side as he effortlessly lifts you from the ground, spinning with you in his arms. You skated with Will for hours, enjoying some intimate small talk as he wrapped you up in his arms, his scruffy cheek pressed to yours as he leaned down to whisper compliments in your ear, each one leaving you more flustered than the last. He taught you a few more complicated moves he had learned over his skating career, both of you lagging as you fell into him more often than you would care to admit. But, every time Will was there to catch you in a strong embrace. Every so often you would catch sight of your friends, all of them ecstatic that you had managed to snag some alone time with the man that seemed to occupy your every thought. Your cheeks would grow warm as they would blow kisses at the two of you, one even screaming “get it girl!” As you rolled past, Will chuckled at the passing comment.

“It almost seems like they were expecting this to happen.” He says, shooting you a knowing smirk. Your heart pounded in your chest as you glanced up at him. It was the first time tonight you had really stopped to acknowledge how handsome he looked tonight. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled down at you, his steely gray eyes almost seemed to shimmer under the neon roller rink lights. His strong arms stayed wrapped around your waist, muscles tensing under the delicate touch of your fingers. The musky smell of his cologne mixed with the subtle scent of cigarettes and machine oil clouded your thoughts. 

“Will, I…” you swallow thickly, your mouth dry as you try to push out the confession you had been hiding for so long.

“Alright, you don't have to go home, but you can't stay here!” You both stumble slightly as the lights suddenly flash on, Will catching himself on the wall, pulling you flush against his chest to keep you upright.

“You okay?” The concern in his tone made your chest tighten.

“Yeah, thanks to you.” He scoops you up in his arms, carrying you bridal style as he skates towards the edge of the rink.

“Would you…” he sucks in a deep breath. “Would you like to join me for a coffee or something?” You can't help but smile at his awkward invitation. “Call me selfish, but I'm just not ready to say goodnight to you yet.”

“I would love to. However, I'm the designated driver for whichever of my girls didn't get picked up by one of your horndog chefs.” You explain with a chuckle. He carefully sets you down on the neon star covered carpet, “unfortunately, it would have to be some other time.”

“I could always help you get everyone home.” He offers quietly.

“If you don't mind being in a car full of drunk party girls.” You giggle.

“Spending time with you is worth it.” He slings a heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side as you head to take off your skates.

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“You are huge!” Chrissy drunkenly slurs as Will slides into the driver's seat of his car. You attempt to hide your embarrassed expression, dropping your face into your hands with a laugh, Will simply chuckles at the outburst.

“Where am I headed, kiddo?” Will asks, glancing at her in the rearview mirror. She slurs out her address, Will seemingly having caught enough of it to know where he was heading. Chrissy sits forward, bringing her face next to yours in an attempt to whisper something, her lack of volume control at the moment made her attempt less than successful.

“He's seriously your boss?” You nod in response. “He's fucking hot… no wonder you want to–” You quickly clamp your hand over her mouth.

“Chrissy, you're drunk.” You laugh trying to quickly snap her off the subject.

“You're drunk!” She responds when she finally manages to push your palm away from her face. “I'm just saying, if she doesn't let you bring her home, I'm available!”

“Chrissy!” You exclaim in horror. Will snorts out a laugh at her statement.

When you finally drop her off your mind was absolutely reeling, not knowing what Will would have to say to you after listening to your friends drunk ramblings. “She's safely inside, her sister looked terrified of me.” He jokes.

“Well, it's not every day you have an incredibly handsome wall of man dropping off your drunk sister, I guess.” You froze after you registered what you had said. “I am so sorry–”

“So, you think I'm handsome?” You were nervous to look at him at first, not sure how that question was supposed to be interpreted. Your shoulders soften as you meet Will’s gentle gaze. You nod apprehensively, still too nervous to reiterate that fact out loud. “Well, if it's any consolation, rabbit…” He slides closer to you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulls you into his side. He gently takes your chin between his fingers, not allowing you to look away. “I think you're very, very pretty.” He growls seductively. Your eyes flutter shut as his lips come to rest against yours. Kissing Will was a lot different than how you had imagined it. He was surprisingly gentle with you, as if you were made of glass. His fingers gently kneaded against your plush waist, his other hand leaving your chin in order to cradle your cheek in his palm, his strong fingers lacing their way into your hair. You kissed him until your lungs burned, so caught up in him that you had neglected to breathe.

It takes you a moment to regain yourself. Your eyes hazy, pupils blown, Will’s chest filled with a sense of pride at the sight. “Will?”

“Yes, bunny?”

“Did you still want to grab that coffee?”

His smile widens in response, “of course, pretty girl. Anything if it means getting to spend more time with you.”

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Tag List: @vile-moss @yellowbunnydreams @spookyghostjelly @zoey5252 @loudchaosking @weirdoartist21 @residentevilbeast @lokanda @emmbny @yukkkiki @dij-ology @maria-moll @astinkerofarat (if you would like to be added or removed from tag List please let me know!)

[deesseshesca]

PAC: How can you deepen the bond with your partner ?

There must be something cynical about being on your period and wanting a baby ... orrrrr.... nahhhh.... I am a maneater until the day i di-

Good afternoon pretty soul ! I am so excited ... IS OFFICIALLY KINKTOBER ! DAY : 10-11

FOR EXCLUSVE CONTENT THIS WEEK IS ON B.A.B.Y. soul tribe making it all half a price...

Your future lover (LAST DAY 15/10)| SEX Douala =SALE READING

PILE 1

Even though you may feel disconnected from the relationship right now and have contemplated walking away, your partner’s decision to change signals a pivotal moment. Their renewed focus on the relationship is genuine, and this could be the fresh start you both need. However, rebuilding trust and connection won’t happen overnight, especially with the emotional distance that has crept in.

You might feel uncertain, like your instincts are a bit off or you’re struggling to trust their efforts, but try to approach this phase with an open mind. Take things slow, and give yourself permission to feel both doubt and hope at the same time. It's okay to be cautious, but recognize their effort for what it is—a true attempt to make things right.

Communication will be key. Even though there might have been a breakdown in how you both express your emotions, make space for honest conversations. Talk about your fears, disappointments, and what you need moving forward. They seem committed to focusing on the relationship, but they will need guidance to understand how to nurture it in a way that feels meaningful to you. Don't be afraid to express what hasn't worked in the past and what you want to see differently.

Your partner’s willingness to change is a sign of their dedication, but for the relationship to truly move forward, both of you will need to find a balance between emotional vulnerability and action. This is a chance to rebuild from a stronger, more honest foundation, but it will require patience and effort from both sides. Trust the process, even if it feels rocky right now, and allow the transformation to unfold naturally.

*** BONUS ***

This relationship is newly official but you guys have been messing with each other for a hot minute. They finally let go of their ego. Y’all thought they did not want to be with you because of your looks. I feel like it’s a cut in 2. One side is different race, maybe the person is white and you are black living in a more white neighborhood. Others are the size, you are medium size and bigger and that person is conventionally good looking. Others are culture, I’m hearing : Mexican and Arabic. So since both cultures have similarities but when holding differences it is polar opposite. But actually they did not cuff you because of their ego, I don’t really know the root of the problem but it has nothing to do with you (also like mention on other PAC or collective reading, if we do not give me permission, I don’t dig). They took a hit in their life and realized that you were the only real one. I don ‘t think their hit was public since everything look good from the outside but everyone close to them, even their ‘’friends’’ know that they fuck up. Don’t worry they saw the way you transform. The way you are embarrassing everything that people use against you, whether it be your weight, your curly hair and darker skin tone, your tradition… you are loving it all and glowing. But even though they change and hold to all their promises, there’s still a need to address the big elephant in the motherfucking room … Why did it take you so long to grow some balls ? That feeling of uneasiness you feel, chérie d’amour… I feel it 2 ! Like on the card everything is perfect but my intuition is ticking not because they are doing something sneaky behind your back instead is about  their fucking intention. Almost like I'm being played… but I have yet to capture the king (final evidence) to scream CHECKMATE ! So I am waiting and sharing the bonus message that spirit allows me to have. Because babe, if they did not give me the signal to shuffle for more, I would have send you you merry way because they had me fucking convince. Lastly you are personally so close to complete fulfillment don’t let anyone or anything hinder that for you. 

💌 : What's making me tik, is they went from avoiding you to completely being immerse in your energy. Almost like they know you crave touch and is feeding you the only thing that can't make you think deeper into what's really going on. Chile chérie d'amour, if you want to know how to deepen your sexual chemistry, is half the price this time. You can unlock all the extended content.

PILE 2

To deepen your bond with your partner, it's important to be patient and understanding of the emotional battles they are facing. They may feel vulnerable and unsure about sharing their struggles fully, so it's crucial that you create a safe space where they feel comfortable opening up without fear of judgment. Encourage them to talk about their feelings and let them know that you're here to support them, no matter how difficult it may seem.

Your partner is someone who has been through immense pain and may still be carrying that weight, but they are determined to hold on because of their deep care for you. They might resist letting go of past hurt, but your consistent love and gentle reassurance can help them find the strength to move forward. Instead of pushing them to "get better," focus on being a steady source of support, reminding them that their worth goes beyond their struggles.

You both can build a solid foundation together by acknowledging the difficult moments while staying committed to a brighter future. Find small ways to celebrate victories, even if they seem minor, and remind them of the life you are creating together, filled with love, stability, and shared dreams.

Lastly, make sure to take care of yourself too. It's easy to pour all your energy into helping someone you love, but maintaining your own emotional well-being will ensure you both can grow stronger together. Stay hopeful, and keep the vision of a fulfilling future in mind. Your bond can weather this storm as long as you continue to meet them with understanding, compassion, and the strength they need right now.

Extra: I need to write this white on black ... YOU WILL NOT ATTEND THEIR FUNERAL (they use to deal with suicidal thoughts. Mes chéries d'amour when you they say that they ARE better and working hard mentally (because I feel like they already work very hard at school and work ) for y'all future, they are doing it !

💌 : If you want to know how to deepen your sexual chemistry, is half the price this time. You can unlock all the extended content.

PILE 3

To deepen your emotional bond with your partner, it’s essential to continue honoring the healthy boundaries you’ve established while also allowing space for more vulnerability and connection. You’ve done the inner work, understanding that in order to love fully, you need to prioritize your own well-being. Now, it's about balancing this self-care with a deeper level of emotional intimacy.

Your partner may sense that you're more independent and focused on your personal growth, and while this is incredibly healthy, it’s important to make sure they don’t feel shut out. Sharing your thoughts, dreams, and fears—without compromising the time you need for yourself—will help strengthen your bond. Being open about where you are emotionally will encourage them to do the same, building mutual trust.

At times, you might feel the urge to retreat or protect yourself out of habit, but don’t shy away from those moments when connection calls for more openness. You don’t have to carry everything alone anymore; your partner is someone who can walk with you on this journey.

Bringing passion into the relationship through spontaneity and excitement will also create deeper ties. Whether it’s going on a new adventure together or rekindling the playful, passionate side of your connection, these moments will help balance the self-reflection with joy and lightness. Your ability to nurture both the connection you have with yourself and the relationship will strengthen your emotional bond with your partner.

Ultimately, deepening your bond comes from maintaining those boundaries you’ve set, but also learning when to let them soften, allowing your partner to share in your emotional world. This mutual exchange of support and love will bring you both closer, as long as you continue pouring into both cups—yours and theirs.

💌 : If you want to know how to deepen your sexual chemistry, is half the price this time. You can unlock all the extended content.

PILE 4

You’ve finally found the love you deserve after going through so much healing and learning to truly love yourself. Even though this relationship brings you happiness, you might still feel the remnants of your past—old fears or doubts that occasionally surface. Those walls you built to protect yourself are still standing, but now they no longer serve you. It's okay to acknowledge that you've been hurt before, but it's also important to recognize that you're no longer that person who was unsure or hesitant.

Your partner, the one you were once shy about, has helped you step out of your comfort zone and realize that taking that chance was worth it. The joy you feel now is a result of your growth, and while it’s easy to fall back into old patterns of guarding yourself, there’s no need for that in this relationship. You are with someone who appreciates you for who you are, and the bond between you two is strong and fulfilling.

Sometimes, the intensity of this love might scare you, or you might worry about losing it. But instead of letting fear dictate your actions, lean into the trust and happiness you’ve built. Take time to rest, reflect, and remind yourself that you’ve done the work to be here. You’ve moved past those heavy emotional barriers, and now it’s about enjoying the connection without overthinking it.

Allow yourself to continue embracing the love you’ve found, without letting old anxieties take away from the beauty of the present moment. You’ve earned this happiness through your self-love and healing journey, and there’s no reason to hold back now. Trust yourself, trust your partner, and savor the love you’ve created together.

💌 : Babe they are going to put a ring on it !!!!! I feel like is all new. Y'all just started dating but is only the beginning of a lovely love journey !!!! If you want to know how to deepen your sexual chemistry, is half the price this time. You can unlock all the extended content.

[iomoru]

the GI boys in reverse!au, when they are the player and the male!reader is the character.

what if they expect you back but it's Qiqi (it happened to me😑)

Not Pulling You

A/n: I don't write for male readers which I already said in my pinned post. I do Gn! Reader instead so everyone can read it, well here you go anyways! (*・ω・*) (I'm sorry it took long（；へ：）)

Genre: Modern! Au, Reverse! Au, Fluff, Gn! Reader, Second Person, Proofread

Chars: Xiao, Venti, Gorou, Itto

Summary: He’s saved every single primogem for a chance to add you to his team—but when the banner finally drops and he pulls he got Qiqi instead, his reaction is anything but ordinary. From quiet resolve to dramatic breakdowns, he’ll keep trying until you’re by his side.

Xiao:

Xiao’s heart raced as he watched the star glimmer across the screen. He’d been waiting for this banner to come around—waiting to bring you to his party. But as the star faded, a small figure appeared on the screen instead.

“Qiqi…” He whispered to himself, almost stunned. It wasn’t disappointment, not exactly; she was adorable in her own right. But he’d hoped for you, wanted to see you move effortlessly through the battlefield, maybe even have you in his party for every adventure.

Still, he couldn’t help but smile slightly. He’d try again—after all, he knew patience better than anyone. But until then, he’d let this moment hold a certain charm. “Alright, Qiqi… let’s see what you can do.”

Venti:

Venti watched with shining eyes, leaning so close to his phone that his nose almost touched the screen. The wish animation played, vibrant and colorful, and he could feel his heart thumping. But as the sparkle faded and Qiqi appeared, his face dropped instantly.

“Qiqi?!” he wailed, throwing himself back on his chair, clutching his head. “Noooo! My precious primogems! All my hard work!” He dramatically fell to the floor, as if fate itself had wronged him. “Why, oh why, would the universe deny me this one simple wish?”

He lay there, sighing loudly every few seconds, only peeking at his phone when he thought no one was looking. “Fine, Qiqi…fine. But mark my words, my muse—I’ll get you one day!” He resolved to sing songs about his “woe” until he gathered enough primogems to wish again.

Gorou:

Gorou sat on the edge of his seat, his tail flicking with excitement. He’d saved every wish he could for this banner, all to bring you to his party. But as the star fell, the face that appeared wasn’t yours—it was Qiqi’s.

“Oh…Qiqi…” His ears drooped slightly. It wasn’t that he didn’t appreciate her skills or what she brought to a team. But he’d been imagining you beside him, fighting alongside him, someone he could rely on in the heat of battle.

After a pause, he scratched his head and laughed at himself. “It’s alright,” he reassured himself softly. “I can try again. And besides, Qiqi could use a strong team to keep her safe, right?” Gorou couldn’t help but smile, already planning his next team configuration to give Qiqi the backup she needed—until he’d finally have a chance to pull you.

Itto:

“Alright, here we go!” Itto chanted, practically bouncing as he made his wish. His fingers were crossed, his eyes wide with expectation. But as the summoning animation finished, there she was: little Qiqi, gazing at him blankly.

His jaw dropped. “No way.” He threw his head back, groaning loudly as he clutched his phone dramatically. “Come on! I didn’t save up all my primogems just to end up with…Qiqi! Why does this keep happening?!”

Throwing himself onto the floor, Itto flailed dramatically, wailing at the ceiling. “I just wanted you! Is that too much to ask?” He peeked at his phone, then sighed, resting his head on his arm. “Alright, Qiqi, looks like we’re sticking together for a while, but I swear, next time it’s you I’m bringing home!”

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

A/n: I ran out of dividers (◞ ‸ ◟ㆀ) (not really I'm just picky (≡^∇^≡) )

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.

[darkstar225]

Twice's 10th member is Aespa's Karina girlfriend ft protective J-line

A/N: Heyyy, I'm trying to make up for the time I'm gone lol! Sry for taking so long to post :D I hope that the anons who gave me these very similar ideas on Tumblr like it!

The requests: Hi I want to request where y/n is dating karina from aespa and the unnies especially ( the j-line) want to see how she handles y/n because she (playful, mischievous and childish) and karina did a great job and she also put y/n to bed and cuddle her.

Hi can you do where y/n is dating karina from aespa and where y/n brings karina to meet the members and they all gave her a warning especially the j-line and also some tips to take of y/n. Thank u 

PS: Tysm for everyone who reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

It was a Friday evening, and the atmosphere at the TWICE dorm was vibrant with laughter and excitement. The reason? The 10th and youngest member, Y/N, was finally introducing her girlfriend, Karina from Aespa, to the unnies. The J-line, aka Momo, Sana, and Mina, were particularly thrilled, their mischievous grins already in place as they prepared to put Y/N and Karina through their playful inspection.

The doorbell rang, and Nayeon, mom number 2, skipped to answer it. 

Nayeon - Karina! Welcome to the TWICE dorm! *motherly smile*

Exclaimed the fake maknae, pulling the Aespa member into a warm hug. 

Karina grinned, her eyes glancing around the lively space. 

Karina - Thank you, Nayeon unnie. I'm excited to be here.

As the evening unfolded, Y/N and Karina were showered with warmth and laughter. Jeongyeon, the second eldest and mom number 3, took the lead in guiding them through the dorm, introducing Karina to the various rooms and sharing anecdotes about the group's time together.

Dinner was a boisterous affair. Momo couldn't resist teasing her little sister from across the table, throwing playful glances that made the youngest member blush. Sana, sitting next to Karina, joined in the mischief, making the atmosphere light and carefree.

Mina, on the other hand, observed quietly. Her sharp eyes didn't miss the subtle interactions between the couple. As the night progressed, the J-line's plan started to unfold. Momo, Sana, and Mina exchanged sly looks, plotting their next move.

After dinner, the group settled in the living room for a round of games. Chaeyoung and Tzuyu, the other two members from the maknae-line of TWICE, joined forces with Y/N and Karina, forming a team against the unnies. The room echoed with laughter as the teams competed fiercely.

Amid the chaos, the J-line seized their chance to observe TWICE's angel and Karina's dynamics. 

Momo - Look at them, Sana. Our Y/N is completely smitten. *whispering*

Sana giggled, her eyes twinkling mischievously. 

Sana - This is going to be fun. Let's see how Karina handles our baby's playful side.

As the games continued, Mina discreetly pulled Karina aside for a chat. 

Mina - You're doing great, Karina. But be prepared. Our dongsang can be a handful. The J-line especially knows how to bring out her mischievous side.

Karina nodded, appreciating the advice. 

Karina - I'll keep that in mind, Mina unnie. But I can handle a little mischief. *smiles smugly*

Mina - We'll see about that. *smirking*

The night wore on, and eventually, the group gathered in the cozy living room. Y/N, visibly tired from all the excitement, leaned against Karina, her head resting on the Aespa member's shoulder. Momo couldn't resist teasing.

Momo - Look at our little Y/N. All tired out. *winking*

Y/N - I'm not tired! Just resting my eyes. *pouting*

Sana - Karina, you have your work cut out for you. Our little fireball is a handful, especially when she's pretending not to be tired.

Karina chuckled, wrapping her arm around her girl. 

Karina - Don't worry, I can handle her. She's adorable even when she's pretending to be tough. *kisses Y/N's forehead*

The J-line exchanged knowing glances, silently acknowledging that Karina was handling the situation well. As the night progressed, the members decided it was time for bed. Y/N, already half-asleep, was gently guided by Karina to one of the guest rooms since she was gonna sleep with her girlfriend.

Once TWICE's sunshine was settled in bed, the J-line took Karina aside for a serious talk. Momo, with a playful yet stern expression, spoke first. 

Momo - Karina, you seem great, but we need to make sure you can handle Y/N's playful and mischievous side. She might act tough, but she's a softie deep down.

Sana - And she loves to be spoiled. Don't let her fool you with her independent act.

Karina listened attentively, appreciating the unnies' concern. Mina, with a gentle smile, spoke next.

Mina - Just be yourself, and take care of our little sister. We trust you, but we also want Y/N to be happy... Which means we will end you if you hurt our kid.

Karina nodded, grateful for the advice. 

Karina - Thank you, unnies. I really care about Y/N, don't worry because I'll do my best to make her happy.

The J-line exchanged satisfied glances, convinced that Karina was genuine in her intentions. With a final round of warnings and advice, the members bid each other goodnight, leaving Karina to her thoughts.

Alone in the guest room, Karina smiled as she watched her lover sleeping peacefully. The night might have been filled with mischief and teasing, but she felt a genuine connection with the TWICE members. As she cuddled with Y/N, she knew that she had the support of the unnies and that, despite the playful warnings, the night had been a success.

In the end, the J-line's mischievous plan had served its purpose: ensuring that their maknae was in good hands, surrounded by people who cared about her. And as the members of TWICE drifted off to sleep, the dorm echoed with the warmth of friendship and the promise of more shared moments to come.

And this made them all have the same thought:

I'll love my dear chosen family forever.

A/N: I'm sorry for any errors. English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there is something wrong, ty for reading <3

[henrioo]

°•*⁀➷ TIMELESS: MONKEY D. LUFFY

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "Many things are taken away by time, power, money, life... But pure, genuine and true love is always timeless. Surviving every hardship that may come, and Ace and Sabo could see that clearly between you and Luffy.

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : angst! Ace death! Male reader! (Can be trans or not), Pre time skip Luffy! Alabasta arc, Dressrosa arc, SPOILERS!, gay relationship, Luffy and reader are clueless, Sabo still depressed about Ace

꒰ WC ꒱ : 2,5k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : So this was one of stories I had finished a long time and I now I'm posting them. It's not totally angst because nothing bad happens in the Luffy and reader relationship, but still sad. Fem dni or block and enjoy :))

Everyone quickly starts working on the tents before the terrible cold of the desert makes them freeze. You were finishing helping Nami with the girls' tent while trying to ignore Sanji cursing you for stealing his chance and calling you a pervert.

“Thank you (y/n)-kun” Nami said, satisfied with the end result while Vivi was placing the necessary items so that they would have a makeshift bed.

You just nodded and went after the boys to see what they were doing with their tents. Sanji clearly had a stable tent although it was kind of small, you thought about asking but your theories about his perverted goals made you shudder so you just ignored him and went to the other group.

Usopp was busy trying to make a tent himself and he was determined to show that he knew how to set one up, but he didn't. Zoro was lying on a sheet on the sand and using his backpack as a pillow, while Luffy and Chopper seemed to be having fun listening to the stories of the captain's older brother, Ace. “Usopp, do you want help?” You asked, approaching everyone. Since you still had some energy it wouldn't hurt to help others before going to your own tent to sleep, after all you were the first to set up your shelter which consisted more of a roof and pillow cloths and a sheet, you weren't much demanding and thought it fair that the girls had more fabric to work with.

“Hm… no… I… I'm almost there” he said, too focused to look at you, trying hard to make the poles that were supposed to hold the tent upright… obviously without success.

“Zoro?” You decided to leave the shooter alone, either he would make it or he would give up. The experience of success or failure was worth it then it was no longer your business.

“I'm fine, it's not too cold,” he said calmly. You would doubt if a normal human was truly capable of withstanding that cold, but it was Zoro and you knew he didn't think like a normal human, so you just shrugged it off.

You approached the other three boys who seemed very excited even after a long day of travel. Ace was a good guy, he definitely cared about Luffy and he had been very kind to everyone when they found out that you were his beloved little brother's crew. What bothered you was that he looked at you in a kind of strange way, especially when you interacted with Luffy.

It made you a little nervous and paranoid, but it didn't make you treat him any differently.

“Do any of you need help in the tents before I go to sleep?” You offered everyone, as always being very helpful.

“Oh! No! I’ll stay with Usopp!” Chopper declared happily and looked at his companion, but upon seeing the situation in the tent he was a little… well he was definitely something but you still weren't very good at reading emotions in an animal. He just sighed, getting up from Luffy's lap "I better help him" the reindeer said as he went towards his friend.

“I’m fine, fire advantage” Ace smiled and you had to admit he had a good charm. To prove his point he lit his own hand with his flames and you almost felt envious of the natural heat he was able to provide.

“Okay, then I’m going to get some sleep” you said, yawning, already feeling the tiredness finally catching up with you. As you turned to walk away you felt something grab your wrist and turned to see Luffy with a huge upset pout and his stretchy hand reaching out to hold you back.

"And me?" He asked in such a hurt way that he looked like a puppy abandoned in the rain.

“Huh? What about you Luffy?” You asked a bit confused.

“Aren’t you going to ask where I’m going to sleep?” He said it as if it were his duty to do it, a kind of genuine obligation.

“Oh! I thought you were going to sleep with Ace…” you said confused looking at your older brother. Since it had been a while since they had seen each other and Ace produced heat, you figured the two would just sleep together like brothers usually do.

“I don’t want to sleep with Ace!” Luffy grumbled, letting go of you and crossing his arms, he seemed almost offended by his assumption. “He snores!”

"Hey!" Ace said in protest at the small offense.

“Okay… what do you want to do then?” You looked at the boy with amusement, Luffy was always a bit clingy towards you and little by little you learned to give in to all his requests.

"I want to sleep with you!" He declared with a big smile and with so much confidence that it made your cheeks heat up and you looked away in embarrassment.

“Okay…whatever you want captain” you said shyly and practically ran to your tent to avoid hearing whatever Ace might say about that interaction.

Soon you were lying in the sand under your tent and trying to calm your racing heart, why did Luffy have to be so cute?! It only made it worse that he didn't know the effect he had on you... what an unfair life. When you were almost falling asleep you felt his warmth on your back, he wrapped his rubber limbs around you a few times as he held you tight against him, almost as if he wanted to make sure you wouldn't leave. He moved a few times, adjusting himself and then placed his head on your back, starting to sleep soon after. You sighed, deciding to follow his actions as you yawned one last time and also let sleep overcome you.

Outside, Ace watched as his brother practically skipped over to his tent with a knowing smile on his face. He wasn't an idiot, he knew Luffy very well and had good experience with romance, he knew exactly what was going on between the two of you. The way you smiled at Luffy and seemed to always be around him, the way the boy was also clingy to you and always seemed like your validation… who would know that Ace's whiny little brother would grow up enough to fall in love.

“Huh… those two then?” He laughed knowing that Zoro was the only one who was still awake, it wouldn't hurt to know more about his brother's boyfriend, after all it had been a long time since they had seen each other and Ace wanted to know all the news.

"Actually no." Zoro said quickly turning around to face Ace, he still had his eyes closed but was definitely awake.

“Huh? How not? They are literally sleeping together!” The man said, confused.

"Put two idiots together who are incapable of understanding what it's like to be in love and you get these two" Zoro yawned in his seat but he had an amused smile. “They definitely feel something, everyone knows”

“Let me guess, everyone knows except them?” Ace laughed knowingly, that was just like Luffy.

"Bingo... (y/n) is a little smarter, but I think he just doesn't want to accept that he's in love with the captain himself" that was a good theory, you always showed a lot of respect for Luffy's position and maybe you didn't want to mix things up things.

“He… huh, has problems with men?” Ace didn't know exactly how to ask if you weren't out of the closet without seeming rude, wouldn't it be weird if you didn't want to confess because you didn't feel comfortable liking a boy. Although that seemed a bit unlikely with the way you acted around Luffy.

"No, he's always made it clear that men are his type... Luffy isn't exactly the type of person who cares about gender either." Zoro pondered "I think it's just... They maybe don't think it's really love, the way they are they should just think it's a good friendship and that's it"

“No, (y/n) knows she's in love with Luffy” the third voice was Sanji's who was outside his tent smoking. "He just won't confess because he thinks Luffy is like that with everyone."

Ace sighed feeling empathy for you, Luffy could be very dense and his friendly manner probably confused you. But he knew that his brother definitely loved you, loved you in a very romantic way even if maybe he didn't know exactly what that was or how to express it.

“Well, I worry less,” Ace yawned, adjusting his hat to cover his face. “Luffy will eventually understand that he is in love with him, when that happens he will confess and make his love clear… he just needs a little time” the man laughed. He could already imagine the scene, Luffy would probably be a great boyfriend if he was already extremely loving with you now, as an older brother he felt very happy knowing that his little brother was having his first love and that luckily it was still reciprocated. You would work out, you just needed time until your feelings became clear and you could finally accept and accept them.

Sanji had already retired again, leaving Zoro to be the only one awake, he lay on his back facing the starry desert sky. Yes... You two just needed time, everyone could see how much you both loved each other much more than friends and mainly cared about each other. It would definitely be very interesting to see this unfold, he was just glad that both of his friends were in love with good people who would take good care of them.

You stroked Luffy's black hair, he was lying with his head in your lap recovering after the difficult battle against Doflamingo. You were all at Kyros' house so that Law and Luffy could have more time to recover, soon you would leave for Zou and then for Wano, so all the time to recover was essential now.

The straw hat on your head cast a certain shadow on your eyes, you didn't want to fall asleep, too worried to take your eyes off Luffy. But it was obvious that tiredness was also taking its toll on you, after all you also participated in your own battles to help the entire city from collapsing, now all your body and mind wanted was a little rest.

“Hey! Bro, you should get some sleep, you look like a zombie” Franky laughed as he continued the repairs on his body, you laughed weakly believing his words.

“Don’t worry, this one won’t wake up anytime soon” Zoro said, assuring you that you could take some time for your own rest.

“Okay… wake me up in case anything happens” you yawned, leaning better against the wall and finally resting completely, the straw hat fell against your face giving you greater coverage. You couldn't feel it, but Luffy turned a little, laying on his side and using his elastic arms to wrap himself around you, holding you close to him.

“It seems I came to say goodbye at a bad time” Sabo smiled entering the house, he would really love to spend more time with Luffy to recover everything they lost, but the revolutionary army needed him and it was time to go back. "It seems like some things never change, Luffy was always sleeping as a child."

“This one just doesn't sleep more than he eats,” Zoro said, making the other members who were there laugh a little.

"That's good, I'm glad he's still like this..." he smiled nostalgically, a part of him was happy that Luffy had managed to recover after Ace. A guilt still lingered in his chest for not being there, but they would have plenty of time in the future to come together again.

The blonde boy was going to say something else before starting his final farewell, but that was when he stopped to pay a little more attention to his brother and the man who slept with him. Luffy's precious straw hat resided on the man's head while his brother was wrapped around him in the same way he was wrapped around Sabo and Ace as children. No, it wasn't the same way, there was something different. The smile on Luffy's face, the way he was snuggled up to the boy Sabo knew was called (y/n)... Oh, he knew what that was.

“So both?” Zoro's eyes widened in surprise, it seemed that the brothers were much more alike than he imagined. He smiled nostalgically thinking that Luffy's two brothers really care about him a lot, it seemed like a great déjà vu from that same night in Alabasta years ago.

“No, not yet” he laughed looking sideways at the two “But they are already better than before.” That wasn't a lie, now that you and Luffy were reunited you were much more open to his displays of love, probably due to being apart for so long. The only thing “missing” was a label, but it wasn’t like you and Luffy seemed to care about that.

“Ah, I see… Luffy is more dense in these things” Sabo smiled happily, looking at his brother so comfortable.

“I'm happy that it's reciprocated, for both of them... I'm sure they'll work out, they just need a little time.” He was sure of it, it was obvious how much you liked each other, a little time would be enough for the two of you to take on whatever was necessary and nothing else would come between you “Well, I need to go, thanks for looking after my little brother, I promise we’ll see you again soon.” Sabo turned to leave but was stopped when he heard Zoro's voice.

“Huh… Ace said the same thing” Sabo's heart stopped for a second. "Not just about taking care of Luffy... About the two of you, you two were pretty confident that with a little time they would work out..."

Sabo had to hold back his tears, taking a deep breath to keep his control. He said happily without looking back "Then that must be a good sign, big brothers are never wrong." That was the small blessing for his brother's future relationship, he knew it would work out, Luffy could be dense in romantic relationships but Sabo knew that the day he fell in love with someone and was reciprocated he would never let that person go.

Leaving the small house he faced the sunny day feeling the wind on his face, wiping his tears and ruffling his golden curls.

“Hey Ace… It looks like our little brother grew up huh?” he said excitedly looking up, could his brother see him now? “I'm glad you had the chance to see them too... (y/n) is a good guy, I'm sure he'll be good for Luffy” he smiled confidently, after all he had seen how you took care of your brother when he passed out after the battle. “Luffy will also be good for him… Ah… I wish you had the chance to be here to see them finally together” he bit his trembling lip, unable to stop himself from crying “But it's okay, I know you can see us there, so please take good care of them… Our little brother deserves to be happy.”

And inside that house Luffy was still hugging you tightly, you yourself were smiling with your hand in the boy's hair, patting him even though you were sleeping. You might not have admitted your feelings, but that didn't matter, you and Luffy both knew that you loved each other and that you would never let anything happen to each other. And everyone around you, especially those two proud older brothers, knew that nothing would stop you two from enjoying a beautiful romance.

[ruukina]

WOLFISH

FANDOM: final fantasy xvi PAIRING: clive rosfield x reader ( gender neutral, afab ) RATING: explicit / 18+. minors dni. SUMMARY: After an exhausting week of running around Valisthea, you return home with your heart full and missing a certain outlaw. What you find upon your return is different... but not unwelcomed. WARNINGS: slightly rough sex, dirty talking, breeding kink, implied heat cycle. WORD COUNT: 7.7k

A/N: yeah i'm fairly down bad for this man. i normally don't write reader fics but i'm trying to expand my horizons so. here we are. gotta feed myself in this economy right?? expect more ffxvi stuff, whether its reader insert or other shit because the brainworms are very bad.

read on ao3!

It’s a silent ride back to Hideaway, as it always is on these solo missions of yours.

It’s not a common thing, but every so often you find yourself having to run around all of Valisthea with the job of making payments and collecting orders from the many kind souls that have been helping the cause that even keeps your personal home afloat. In fact, you could even say as Cid’s personal advisor, this was your main job; Otto was busy running the Hideaway and keeping it in check, so the job fell to you when you weren’t tailing after the man you worked under.

You also didn’t mind it, because it meant you had some time to yourself. You had the wind at your back, the smell of sea water to keep you company, and you could be in your thoughts alone.

Usually you didn’t mind it, at the very least. 

It’s not a long task to do or even a hard one, in fact you’d argue that most of your time spent there is arguing with the likes of Martha and Isabelle and even L’ubor to accept the gil that Cid himself has offered to give them, but this month’s mission of yours was different. It seemed like a certain boss of yours had racked up a few requests and the people he graciously helped either wanted to give him a reward or send a letter to ask for more help. And since you were unfortunately playing messenger, it meant that you were basically running around and doing his job… in the sense of gathering the requests and gifts, of course.

So, you were being a little delayed in returning. You made sure to send a Stolas, to let everyone know you weren’t dead - just incredibly busy.

But now you finally found yourself on the ferry back home and you were impatient to get back. Excited to get back to everyone, excited to finally be returning after about a week of having to travel by Chocobo to get to everywhere.

Excited to return back to him.

“Hey, Obolus, are we almost there yet?” You peer over to the ferryman, the wind wilding through your hair.

Obolus didn’t even look back at you, as he ‘tsks’ in response. “We’ll get there when we get there. Asking every five seconds won’t make the boat go any faster.”

You scrunch your nose at him, but he did unfortunately have a point. The trip usually never feels so long, but after being away for what seems like months, you were just anxious to get back and rest your feet. The silence of the ride passes, with only the sound of waves pressing against the exterior of the boat. 

You lean against the side and take the chance to reflect on all that’s happened. All that you’ve experienced. 

All that you’ve done.

You don’t really remember when you became Cid’s advisor. It’s had to have been years at this point, you remember only barely being what one would call an adult. You were a bearer without a brand, hiding your magic behind crystals. It’s what your father had taught you, to protect you from the cruel world you were born in. You were cursed, your mother refused to even acknowledge your existence - even more so after the death of your father. You only lived the way that you did because your mother loved your father more than she loved you, and made your father take care of you.

Your father never gave up on you. An idealist in a world of realists, he really thought you could be the one to change the world. 

He set himself up for failure, you bitterly had thought when news of his death arrived at your doorstep. He died for a cause he believed in, sure, but now he expected you to carry on that torch for him. And maybe there was a part of you that wanted to fight for a better world than the one you were handed, for those like you. You weren’t really sure what your true feelings were at that time.

There was one thing you did know, however; you knew you weren’t safe in your mother’s care, so you ran the day after your father’s passing and never looked back. You’re not even sure if your mother is even still alive or if she even misses you. Did she start anew, start all over with someone else and have a child she could be proud of?

As the years went on, you found that you didn’t even care. You can’t remember her face anymore.

You were crafty, a trickster, because that’s what kept you alive. Somehow, your paths with Cidolfus Telamon crossed. Not just once or twice, but five times. Four times, you rejected his appraisal and invitation to join him.

On the fifth path crossed, and the day he saved you from death, you finally joined him. You didn’t really expect to stay long in Hideaway, only thinking you would spend a few weeks or even a month before you jumped ship. You never stayed in one place for long, because it was always too dangerous for you to attach yourself to people. But everyone was so kind, so nice to you, and welcomed you with open arms. 

Especially Cidolfus.

You clung to him a lot, maybe because despite only meeting him five times he was the only person you really knew, and somehow you managed to become his advisor with your skills and your ability to pull him back to the ground. Otto was against it at first, not because he didn’t like you, but you were barely an adult. Yet, Cid had smiled and patted you on the shoulder, telling Otto that there was more to you than meets the eye.

It’s much more than what your mother gave you. Worthless, unneeded, dirty, sinful - that’s all that she had called you. Your own father would try and raise your spirits, but her words were sharp as a knife and they cut wounds in your wrists. Weeks turned into months, months turned into years, and you stayed. You stayed with the people who would become your family.

One day, Cid left with Goetz and the wolf he ( or rather, charon ) cared for, because of rumors of Shiva’s Dominant finally rising in a place where he can finally catch her, to give her the freedom she needed. He came back with Goetz carrying a girl on his back, and a branded man with the wolf practically attached to his hip.

Clive Rosfield.

You didn’t realize it at the time, but the man before you would change your life completely.

Cid introduced you to him, asking you to watch over him and help him adjust to the Hideaway. It’s almost funny to think about, because despite Clive’s grumblings about ‘not staying long’ ( words that echoed in your head as familiar, because you had said the same thing ), when you finally got track of him again, he was out helping the people of Hideaway. 

You made a joke about that and he quickly looked away, some colour on his cheeks and the tips of his ears. It was a cute sight, unsightly for a rugged man like him. Despite his appearances, he was kind and soft, albeit a bit cynical from the hardships he faced in his life. Then you ended up helping him help people, because there wasn’t much to do at that time and you needed to stretch your legs, and that’s how Cid decided on his great idea to make Clive your personal assistant.

Clive then realized when Cid told him you ran him ragged, he meant it, because once Cid assigned Clive to you, it didn’t take you long to get him working because as long as someone could move, they could work. But of course, you joined Clive on his journey to help him out. Some days you had to stay at Hideaway but for the most part, you were at his side alongside Cid. 

You and Clive bonded together. Quick whips with one another, long nights together trying to figure out your next course of action with the Mothercrystals and how to save Valisthea, and slowly he became someone you… well, liked, essentially. You don’t exactly make friends with people, because you’ve never really had the chance to do so, but somehow Clive stabbed his way into your life and heart. 

He became softer with you, and you did too. You found it was easy to smile with him, to laugh with him, to love him. It scared you, because Clive was a Dominant - the second, mysterious Eikon of Fire, and yet something so much more than that. It was basically a target on your back, even more so than the relationship you had with Cid.

But you found that you couldn’t stop loving him, that you would endure the burning world for him. Maybe that scared you more.

He held you when you sobbed and broke down over Cid - the first time your mask of being strong ever cracked. You hated it, you hated being weak, because Cid didn’t need weak people helping him. Cid needed someone who could put themselves back together, but this time you couldn’t. The pieces of you were scattered all over the floor like glass and every time you picked one up, you cut your hand and let the blood drip from your wound.

Yet, Clive held you. He held you close, he didn’t judge you, because he was crying alongside you. Cid meant so much to everyone, including him. You sat in his arms, and he didn’t leave until he knew he could leave you alone without worrying over you. His gentleness contrasted his roughened up look, he looked at you so softly and filled with fondness towards you. He was not afraid to help pick up the pieces, even if it meant cutting his hands in the process. 

He put you back together, and he didn’t complain about it. Not even once.

Your relationship with him bloomed. Your friendship with him became something new, something else. It was a dangerous love, because of who Clive Rosfield is - what he is. Yet, you never swayed. You never faltered.

No matter what, he’s Clive to you.

But in public, he is Cid and you are Cid’s advisor - like you always were. You two were professional on the outside, only sneaking away to shed those titles when you had enough time to. You didn’t get those chances a lot, but when you did he made sure to treat you like you were a deity. You’ve had lovers in the past, but they never made you feel like Clive made you feel. He made you feel loved, appreciated, cared for. You took care of him, but he always took care of you in return. He never simply just took, he always gave back.

No wonder you were anxious to get back to him; you’ve missed him dearly.

“We’re approaching the Hideaway!”

The ferryman’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. You open your eyes, quickly looking towards the horizons. Even in the blackest of nights, with the moon being your only light, you could see the shape of the broken down airship that you and everyone else called home. You could feel the smile creeping on your face.

“I’m home,” you whisper.

To who exactly? Not yourself, but to the man who was waiting for you.

You thank Obolus for the ride home as you step off of the boat, quickly rushing up the stairs. Most people had turned in for the night so there were only a few souls still haunting the Hideaway, and they offered their greetings to you and a cheery ‘welcome back, advisor!’, to which you returned with a smile.

You feel a little silly rushing through the halls, like an eager child, but you were happy to be home. 

You were happy about seeing him again.

You skid to a stop when you reached your destination. The Tub and Crown was a bit of a ghost town around this time, but you knew there were still a few people aside from Maeve haunting the area.

And you weren’t wrong. There sat Gav and Jill, with Torgal laying at Jill’s side. The hound lifts his head up at the sound of your footsteps, and once he lays his eyes on you he quickly stands up and rushes over towards you with a happy sounding bark. Since becoming Clive’s partner, Torgal never really left your side either. If he wasn’t with his owner or Jill, he was shuffling at your hip and following you around.

“Torgal!” You greet happily, kneeling on the ground to pet him and spoil him with some treats you carried on hand once you got close enough to where the two sat.

The two break from their conversation to see what Torgal was barking at, both of them greeting you with a smile on their faces.

“Well, if it ain’t our favorite advisor!” Gav slams his drink down. He looks you over, peering at the basket of gifts and requests at your side - all for a certain someone. “Talk about bein’ fashionably late. You weren’t kiddin’ when you said almost everyone in Valisthea was keepin’ you away.”

Jill nods her head in agreement, cupping her own chin to look over the heavy basket. “It sounds like you’ve had quite the adventure yourself.”

“Oh, it was the same ol’ stuff I deal with everyday. Just this time everyone in Valisthea caught wind that Cid’s advisor was in town and decided to make it their problem.” You rub Torgal’s belly, to which the hound accepts with happy pants. 

Speaking of the aforementioned man… You look to the side of Gav. No handsome brooding man there. 

You look to the side of Jill. No handsome brooding man there, either.

“Where is Clive?” You stop petting Torgal for a moment. “I figured he would be hanging out with you.”

Gav rolls his eyes a little, both good naturedly but also in some slight annoyance. “Went right to his chambers to work on things when we got back. He’s been in a bloody mood all week.” The scout holds up a finger. “Scowlin’ more than usual, more antsy than usual, tappin’ his foot while he waits at the door.” Every reason is met with a finger going up. “Not like everyone is afraid of him here, but it felt like we had to walk on eggshells around him. Even Charon was tryin’ not to rib him so hard.”

You blink a little, a brow raised. “Has the missions been going poorly or something?”

“Fuck no,” Gav shakes his head in response. “Everything’s been going smoothly. He’s just been actin’ like a shite.”

“He hasn’t been that bad,” counters Jill. Though, there’s a slight pause of hesitation from her. “But Gav isn’t wrong, he has been in a bit of a mood. More than likely, he was just worried about you.”

Worried about you? It’s not like you can’t handle yourself, and you’ve definitely been on missions longer than a week without him. You can’t help but scrunch your nose in thought - as always, when you’re thinking hard. Something was up with him, clearly.

Jill reads you like a book, with a smile on her face. “He’s still up, last time I checked. He’s burying his nose in reports as to distract himself. I’m sure he’ll appreciate the visit from you.” She stands up from her seat, as Torgal also rolls over and trots back to her side. “I’ve got some work to do with Tarja, but it was nice seeing you tonight.”

You nod your head, standing up and dusting yourself off. “Tarja, huh? Try not to stay up too late with her, alright?” You laugh a little when Shiva’s dominant huffs softly at your teasing, giving you just a gentle nudge in return. The two of you have gotten quite close over the years, and she was supportive of you and Clive. You felt like you could sigh in relief at that, that you didn’t have to worry about Clive’s childhood friend coming after you.

Gav finishes his drink, standing up as well. “I’m turnin’ in for the night.” He pats your shoulder with a grin on his face. “Make sure you give our leader a nice, warm welcome!”

He only grins harder seeing your cheeks turn red like a tomato at the implication of his words, and Jill’s soft laughter only makes you turn ever redder. Ah, there was your punishment for teasing Jill. The three of them make their way out of the alehouse, your eyes following them as you think about your conversation.

He’s in a mood.

What could he be in a mood about? You’ll have to do some digging, which isn’t hard - if there’s one thing Clive is with you that not even a sour mood could change, it’s that he was honest with you. It’s one of his best traits, really, that he’s open with his feelings and doesn’t usually shy away from speaking his mind about certain things. It’s not always easy, because there are some things he keeps to his chest, but for the most part communication is always important between you two. You pick up the basket of gifts and quickly make it to the end of the hall, where Clive’s chambers were.

And well, they were technically your chambers too, you think with the heat growing at your cheeks once more.

Shifting the basket a little, you use your free hand to knock on his chamber doors - once, twice and thrice.

“The door’s unlocked.” Clive’s low voice fills your ears. He already has you sighing and letting out a quivering breath. Founder, you’ve missed him.

You open the door with a smile on your face. You take in the sights before you - his room is as you left it, with the man himself seated at the desk. He seems to be burying himself in his usual reports and paperwork, just as Jill said. He didn’t even lift his head upon you entering.

“Guess who.” You smile, as you close the door behind you.

The sound of your voice has Clive immediately lift his head from his work. Cerulean eyes widened, the quill he was using drops from between his fingers and clattering on the desk.

“You’re back.” He sounds almost breathless. His chest raises a little as he breathes in and out, those cerulean eyes of him looking a lot more puppy-dog than usual.

This was different, indeed.

You walk towards him, placing the basket on the edge of the desk not covered in scattered papers. “Just got back. Gifts for you by the way, I was hunted down by weary souls who wanted to give their thanks to the so-called Cid the Outlaw.” You peer at him with a gentle, loving smile on your face.

He laughs a little in response, a rare smile forming on his own features. “No wonder you’re late. Sorry about that. I’ll be sure to pen my thanks to them soon.”

You shake your head at him. “Oh, don’t even start with the apologies. It’s my job to aid you, it’s kind of in the title.” A pause, shifting your feet a little as you hold your hands behind your back, shyly. “And… you know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”

The words you whisper made him smile a little more. “You have perfect timing. I’m actually finishing up and I could use your advice.” He nudges his chair back a little, gently patting his thigh. 

For a moment, you stare with a tilted head, until you realize the implications. Your cheeks turn red.

Oh, he’s inviting you to sit there.

Oh, this was different, indeed.

But you don’t hesitate or falter at all. You take a seat on his thigh, leaning against him. One of his strong arms wraps themselves around your waist, pulling your body flushed against his. The position is a little embarrassing, you have to admit to yourself, but it feels warm, comforting - loving. It doesn’t take long for you to fall back into place, flipping through the letters and offering your advice and help to him.

It also doesn’t take long for Clive to stop paying attention. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent. His hot breath tickles your skin, a shiver running down your spine, as his fingers draw circles in your hip. His lips ghosts around your skin, pressing the gentlest of kisses to your neck as though he was whispering forbidden words in your skin. The quill from his fingers once again falls onto the desk, the reports forgotten about as his attention shifts to you. It’s hard to focus when he’s like this, so you decide to also forget about the many papers that littered his desktop.

“Jill and Gav told me you were in a mood.” You finally shift the conversation to what was really on your mind.

Clive only offers a grunt at first. “I’m not really in a mood.”

“Are you? You’re acting a little differently tonight.” Your fingers run through his hair, out of his eyes. “What’s on your mind, Clive? You know you can tell me.”

For a moment, he hesitates, but he knows he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. You know he doesn’t like keeping secrets from you. He pulls you close to him, finally lifting his head to look you in the eye.

“I was fine when you left, but after a day, it felt like there was a pit in my stomach.” Clive runs his fingers up and down your hip. “Hunger, I suppose, is the best way to describe it.”

“Hunger?”

“I felt like I couldn’t focus with you gone. It was worse when I was here alone. Your scent was so much stronger than it usually was…” Clive recounts, averting his gaze for a moment from slight embarrassment, but he quickly focuses back on you. “The more days you were away, the more the hunger grew.”

“And the grouchier you got?” You tease him, though your tease was cut short and replaced with a slight yelp when he pinches your thigh with a huff.

“I wasn’t grouchy.” He counters, but his tone of voice sounds like he’s not exactly fighting the accusation.

You think about what he’s said, though. A hunger he felt for you. It started happening when you first left. He found that your scent was stronger than normal, even when you weren’t there. The symptoms sounded fairly familiar to you, and you hummed a little in thought as you ran your fingers through his hair. He groaned in delight at that, leaning into your touch and burying his face in the crook of your neck once more.

“Maybe you’re going through a rut?”

Clive lifts his head up. “A rut? I’m not a dog, love.”

“I mean, you travel with a dog, you constantly have a permanent puppy-dog eyes look on you and you turn into a dog-lizard thing. You’re kind of dog-adjacent.” You shrug cheekily, with an equally cheeky smile on your face. “But I’m serious about the last thing. We don’t know a whole lot about Ifrit. Maybe it’s going through some kind of rut or something and it’s affecting you. It is springtime, you know. Maybe nature is just setting course for Ifrit, too.”

It’s a pretty plausible theory. Clive stops to think about it for a brief moment, his breath tickling your neck once more as you sigh. Still, he says nothing at first and pauses his movements, until he looks right back up at you, his gaze meeting yours.

“You do realize the implications of your theory, right?” His pupils are blown out, more than usual. His strong, calloused hands grip your hips, shifting you a little so your lower half is flushed right against his.

Oh, there’s something pressing against you. Your body warms up, a heat and ache pooling right in your core. 

You didn’t realize how much you miss his body pressing against yours in such a sinful manner, until he rolls his hips against yours in want and need.

“I meant what I said,” you begin to say, your hands gripping to his shoulders as you slowly grind against the bulge in his pants, meeting his hips’ movements. You couldn’t help but grin a little when he moaned lowly, a sound just for you. “You know I’ll do anything for you, Clive.”

That’s all you’re able to get out at that point, because once you give him permission to do what he needs to do, Clive’s lips press against yours. It was only a sweet, soft kiss for a for seconds at best, because it quickly turned into something fierce, hungry. His tongue prods against your lips, wanting access into your warm mouth, and you gladly part your lips for him, because you need him as much as he needs you. Your tongue presses and swirls against his - it’s a small battle for dominance you never win, but you know he likes a small challenge. His own tongue presses and pins yours, until you ease away to let him completely take the reins.

The kiss is hot, wet, truly sinful. His hands grope everywhere he could, mostly squeezing at your thighs and hips with his fingers digging into your soft, plump flesh until they found their way to your rear. Squeezing and grabbing, groping in such a way that would make you flustered had you not been needy with your own arousal, he lifts you up as though you’re made of nothing but feathers, and truly you’re a little limp in his grasp. Clive’s strength always managed to make you feel dizzy, in a good way, and that doesn’t change here. He pushes his chair back, leaving the desk and the many reports he still has to do in the dust and makes his way towards his bed - your shared bed.

He only breaks the kiss to place you down on the mattress, gentle pants leaving both of your lips as a string of saliva connects the two of you. It breaks as he pulls away a little more, only to dive back in and press fluttering, wet kisses to your neck. Just like the kiss from before, it turns into something a little more hot and brutal; his lips suck at your skin to give it a bruising mark, teeth sinking into your flesh to draw just a little bit of blood from you. You groan hotly, your fingers gripping at his dark locks as your hips jolt upwards. Clive licks and kisses at the bruise and bite mark he left, panting gently against your flesh.

“You still taste so, so good.” Clive whispers into your skin, as his hands tug right at your shirt. He tries his best not to rip it, but unbuttoning your shirt during these kinds of acts was never exactly a cleanful tact, because you can already see a few buttons pop off just from him ripping it open. You chuckle a little; some things really don’t change.

Your chest is bared to him, and Clive wastes no time in pressing gentle kisses on naked skin. Trailing down, he kisses, licks and sucks on any skin he could latch himself onto and sinks teeth into your sink that leaves behind a delicious sting of pain, until finally reaching your left breast. Your breath hitches a little as his tongue swirls around the nub of your nipple, the hitched breath morphing into a needy moan once his lips latch around it to give it a gentle suck. His fingers tease and play with the unattended one, his attacks on you relentless and cruel - cruel in the sense he never slowed down.

“Clive.” you whine with a high-pitched voice, trying your best to roll your hips against his. But he doesn’t let you, pinning you down with just his pelvis. He lifts his head up, a smirk on his face.

“Just lay there and let me make you feel good,” whispers Clive. The way his low voice sounded so commanding, you can’t help but obey him. He was always like this, though; he was always chasing for your pleasure and never his own. He loved you, he wanted to make you feel good. It was never really fair! But at the same time, it truly was nice. He was so different from lovers you had in the past, who only cared about their own needs.

He attends to your other breast, giving it the same treatment - a lick here, a suck there, leaving a trail of bruises and bite marks in his wake. Once he’s satisfied, his lips start to trail downwards. He worships you like this, with his lips and his tongue, making sure there’s a patch of skin with his mark on it. His hands make work of your bottoms, pulling off the offending fabric until you were just left in your undergarments. You expect to feel his fingers on your skin so he can pull them down, but instead when you look down, you see Clive is using his teeth to pull them down.

Oh, this is different. Normally he takes his time with you; press himself against you, kiss you all over. Even as someone who prefers to please his partners more than please himself, it seems like tonight he’s impatient.

“Seems like someone’s been wanting this,” chuckles Clive as he spreads your lower lips a little to inspect you. “You’re already so soaked. All I did was tease you a little. Founder, you’re as depraved as I am.” His hot breath hits your wetness as he speaks, never once pressing his lips against you. You jolt a little at the feeling, a soft huff escaping your lips.

“You started this mess,” You tell him, your fingers already gripping in his hair. “You finish it.”

Another chuckle leaves his lips. Clive is impatient, though, and he wastes no time in pressing his lips right against your dripping entrance. His tongue is relentless here just as it was on your skin; it wastes no time in slipping inside of you, as he starts to drink your essence and fuck you with his tongue alone. It’s almost unbearable to you, in a good way - he drinks like a man starved.

Clive is so good to you, but he knows how to be so cruel, because he knows you enjoy it. He knows how easily you melt on his tongue, and he enjoys every single moment of it.

His fingers slip in as well, two of them pumping in and out as he moves upwards a little, finding your clit. The tip of his tongue flicks at it and you feel the smirk against your entrance as soon as you squeak and moan from his actions. He licks, sucks, his movements becoming faster with each second that passes. You’re trying so hard to swallow back your moans, but the moment his lips wrap around your clit and give it a hard suck, you can’t control your volume anymore. It echoes off of the walls, embarrassingly so, but your mind is so fogged that you don’t seem to care like you usually would.

The knot in your lower stomach painfully tightens, you can feel yourself reaching your peak as Clive continues to tease your clit and thrust his fingers in and out of you. Just as you’re about to find your release, though, he abruptly stops. He pulls himself off of you, his fingers are coated with your essence.

“Clive–” You begin to whine, almost in pain. You stop yourself short when you watch him lick his fingers clean - slowly, like he’s putting on a show for you. Once they’re clean, he looks at you as though he’s a predator who has caught prey in his trap. The slight darkness of the room makes his cerulean eyes have a glow to them. The knot in your stomach returns.

He intends to devour you, his way. He’s going to drag this out, until you’re begging and crying for release.

Clive crawls back onto the bed, his hands moving to undo all of the leathers and fabric of his clothing, until he’s as bare as you are. His cloak and shirt go first, dropping onto the ground until his chest is revealed to you. Greagor, you could probably write several missives about Clive’s chest and muscles, but despite what your lover may say, you’re not that depraved. You keep all of those thoughts to yourself, like a good advisor should. Your eyes drift down with his hands, watching as they fumble a little with his belt, stifling a laugh from how needy and excited he is.

You stop laughing once he finally does undo his belt and pull his pants down, revealing his hard cock to you. You’ve seen it before, it’s been inside of you multiple times now, but you still hitch your breath when you see it. The gods certainly graced Clive with something to brag about, for certain. 

If you ever do meet Ultima maybe you should thank him for giving his vessel something that would make you cross your eyes and forget your own name, but something tells you a narcissistic god obsessed with the purity of his vessel may not appreciate the sonnets a mere mortal would write about said vessel’s cock.

Pre-cum dribbles at the tip, his fingers coated in a mix of his saliva and your juices as he uses it to his advantage to stroke himself a little, to really give you a show now. You hear yourself panting, your chest heaving up and down as you watch the sinful sight before you.

“Enjoying yourself?” Clive smirks, smugness in his voice.

You huff a little in response. “I’ll only enjoy myself when you actually fuck me instead of showing off, Rosfield.”

He laughs a little, leaning down to kiss your forehead sweetly. “As my faithful advisor commands.”

You have no time to respond, as he quickly flips you so you’re on your stomach, face slightly pressed against the pillow beneath you. He presses his front against your back, the tip of his cock pressing against your wet folds teasingly. Your needy whine and rear thrusting back to try and get him inside of you earns a laugh from him, but thankfully he’s not intensely cruel tonight. He presses inside of you, though it’s not as slow as he normally is. Normally he takes his time with you, but in just seconds he’s got his entire length inside of you. You feel the way his body shudders against your back, your soaked walls clenching around him. A sigh passes your lips, morphing into a moan. 

You’ve missed this. You’ve missed him.

His thrusts are slow at first, but it doesn’t take him long for him to pick up his speed. His hips meet your backside, a wonderful symphony of skin slapping against each other fills the room, loud enough to make your ears burn with embarrassment. You bury your face in the pillow to muffle your moans. A hand wraps itself around the back of your neck, though, to pull you up towards its owner. Clive’s heavy breath is in your ear now, worsening your arousal.

“Don’t hide your voice from me,” pants Clive, sharp teeth nibbling at your earlobe. “I want to hear you.”

And you find that you can’t deny him. Your moans are loud, needy, your knuckles turning white from how roughly you’re gripping the sheets to the point where they might tear. His other hand snakes down your stomach, reaching your lower half, and his fingers make work on your clit. It’s a slow rub, his thrusts contrasting the gentleness of his fingers. You can feel yourself reaching your peak, you can feel the knot in your stomach tightening and tightening until–

Until he pulls right out of you.

You whine, loudly, at the loss. Your walls clench at nothing, and you try to thrust yourself back towards him, but Clive doesn’t let you do that. Instead, he flips you both again - him on his back and you sitting on his lap. He looks up at you with a smile, his hand running up and down your stomach once more.

“I know exactly what you like.” The outlaw says, pulling you forward so his cock rests right against your stomach. You feel how hot it is, how hard it is, and how it throbs and pulsates against your skin. “Show me how much you want to cum.”

Oh, he’s definitely dragging this out as long as he can. You can’t exactly blame him, you don’t want this to end either. 

But you also really need to reach your peak, otherwise you may burn the whole Hideaway down.

Your wobbly legs manage to hold yourself up, slowly moving down on him. Your whole body shudders as his cock fills you up again, the tip pressing against the deepest parts of your inside. You move up and down on his length, moans and pants spilling from your lips as you decide to not hide your voice any longer - because he wants to hear you. And you can’t deny him, because you don’t want to deny him.

“Founder, your voice alone drives me mad.” Clive growls, his hand squeezing your thigh as he thrusts upwards to meet your own movements. “Tried to focus on my work, tried to put you out of my head for days, but I just couldn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about how much I needed you blissed out on my cock–”

He’s rambling, his voice low and rough, and you love every second of it. Clive’s not much of a talker, but when he is, he makes you feel so depraved for him. Your legs were starting to shake and feel weak already, but you push yourself - you push yourself because you want this. Because you need this from him, just as much as he needed this from you.

“Clive,” you chant his name like a prayer, over and over again. You must sound delirious.

But Clive clearly doesn’t seem to mind, the way his back arches a little just from the sound of your sweet voice. It’s a powerful feeling, you realize, having such a powerful man like him weak at you - a mere mortal, a bearer but not a Dominant. Yet, it’s a good reminder that beneath everything, Clive is a mortal man as well.

“Can you feel me, sweetheart?” He places his hand on your lower stomach, feeling the way it bulges a little from the sheer size of him. You look down, shuddering at the sight as he continues to thrust upwards, your eyes following how the bulge disappears then reappears. “You take me so fucking well. It’s like you were made for me, the way you shake your hips like a woman at the Veil.”

You can’t respond, any time you try to all that fumbles from your lips are moans and whines of pure pleasure.

“I can get so deep into you like this,” groans Clive, his other hand grasping at your hip. “All the way into you. Fuck, I could breed you right here. I could make you swell with my child.”

Oh, that’s different.

And it’s clearly a good different, the way your body responds. Your walls clench around him, as if your body had a mind of its own, as if your body was begging for the man to breed you. He notices too, and he licks his lips and smirks once he realizes you may enjoy the idea as he did.

“You would like that, wouldn’t you?” Another thrust upwards. His thrusts are getting sloppier and rougher, but Greagor does it feel so good. “I wouldn’t be able to control myself, seeing you like that. I’d fuck you every single day–”

You moan, so lecherously. “Clive, fuck, I’m going to cum!”

Both hands grab at your hips, fingers digging and sinking into your skin so hard you know there’s going to be some bruising there in the morning. But you don’t care. All you care about is the man underneath you, and chasing after your own release. Clive makes you move faster onto him, a growl rumbling from his throat.

“Go on, let yourself go.”

You were already so overstimulated from the foreplay from before, and the way his cock brushes against your sweet spots and bashes against the entrance to your womb, you can’t help it. Your walls tighten around him, and you let yourself go.

Another growl rumbles from his throat, this time he pulls you right down onto him, hard. It doesn’t take him long to follow you into a blissful climax, his hot seed pouring into you and flooding your insides. It’s a lot, more than usual, to the point where it floods out from your entrance and onto him.

You collapse onto him, and he instantly takes you in his arms. Slowly, he flips your positions again, just so he can press himself deeper into you. Thank the Founder, because your legs were about to give out.

A moment passes, until he finally pulls himself out from you. His blown out pupils watch as his seed overflows from you, dripping onto the sheets beneath you. He shudders at the sight, and you can’t help but shudder as well.

You’re fading in and out of existence, but when you mostly come to, Clive has wiped you and him down, cleaning you up and gently pressing kisses against any marks he’s left on you. The sheets will unfortunately have to wait until tomorrow. Frankly, you could give less of a shit about that.

The outlaw slumps himself against you, pulling you into his arms. You both lay there in a comfortable silence, as he buries his face in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you.” His voice trembles, a little embarrassed - that’s the Clive you know. “I’ll, uh, make sure Tarja prepares a herbal tea for you tomorrow, so that you don’t…” He trails off, hiding his face against your neck even more now.

You chuckle, feeling the hotness of his cheeks against your skin. “Feeling better?”

“Yes,” answers the male as he lifts his head up with a smile. “Much better. You always seem to know how to cure my worries and needs.”

“What can I say? I know my boss pretty well.”

He laughs, and your heart feels so warm, so in love with the man before you. Clive leans in, pressing his lips against yours to share a sweet, innocent kiss that contrasts the sinful act you both just partook in. And you kiss him back, wrapping your arms around him. You only stop when you feel something hard rub against your thigh, pulling back to see he was still pretty aroused. He’s a little sheepish at that, but he looks at you in want, in need - and love, as always.

“I don’t think one time is going to be enough for you, big guy.”

A sheepish laugh falls from his lips. “I don’t think so either. I might need a few more rounds. That is, if my faithful advisor is up to it.” 

He’s challenging you, clearly. The smirk on his face tells you all you need to know. You smirk back, bucking your hips against his to accept.

“Only if you do most of the work.” You tell him, a leg going in to wrap itself around his waist. “You made me weak in my knees, Lord Rosfield. A gentleman should take some responsibility for his actions.”

His low chuckle reaches your ears, as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. It’s a tender action, one that definitely makes you feel weak in the knees - if you hadn’t already. It doesn’t take him long to reenter you, and you can’t hide the shudder of your slightly overstimulated body. 

But you want everything he has to offer, the good and the bad of Clive Rosfield, and he’ll give it to you. 

Because he wants everything you have to offer, the good and the bad of his faithful advisor, in return.

“As you wish, my love.”

He claims your lips. The night goes on.

“Somethin’ seems to be on your mind.”

Jill looks towards the source of the voice. Gav stands next to her, arms crossed as he meets her gaze with a raised brow. The Dominant says nothing to him, only slowly returning her gaze to where she once was looking. Gav’s line of sight follows hers, landing right on the scene that was unfolding before them.

“Clive, I’m trying to do work!”

Hideaway’s poor advisor was currently trying to shake an overgrown Cid the Outlaw off of them, who has currently draped himself over you. It had been a single day since you had returned from your trip and needless to say, Clive was acting as though you had been gone for years. Arms wrapped around your waist, pulling your body flush against yours.

“Nothing is stopping you from doing your work,” is all Clive remarks with, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

“Except for a fucking overgrown dog!”

Gav whistles at the sight before him. “Someone seems to be in a good mood.”

“Indeed,” nods Jill, her gaze never leaving the both of you. Right now you were trying to walk away, which resulted in you basically having to drag the second Eikon of fire around because he refused to let himself off of you. “But, I can’t help but wonder if this is worse than the mood he was in before.”

The scout shrugs his shoulders. “Our advisor has dealt with worse from him. And we don’t have to deal with him slobberin’ all over us, so I’d say a good mood is better than nothin’.”

The woman says nothing. She knows it’s going to be a few days before Clive will return to his normal self, if your theory about why he’s been moody all week rings true. Such things don’t end with a simple, pleasurable night. You’ll be fine, she knows that, so she’s not too worried that you won’t be able to handle Clive Rosfield.

It’s in your job description, after all.

( she’ll still pray to metia for you, at the very least, and hope you come out unscathed. )