#trying to breathe it out but lets be real

[keeksandgigz]

18+ smut ahead !!!

older!coworker!eddie

this is kinda gross-ish if u don’t like it don’t interact <333

It’s disgusting, really, the way he has you bent over the dirty sink in the staff bathroom, sending you on your break so he could finally get his fill of you, so cruelly denied to him. You like to tease him with the idea of letting him have you, often bartering an earlier dismissal or a later shift on the schedule in exchange for your soft lips wrapped around him.

God knows how many times he’s scheduled you to close alone with him, turning off the cameras in the stores just so that he could get a taste of you, hanging on to the creaky shelves of the store for dear life as tears weep down your thighs and onto his face, where he’s stuffed his face down your dress, fingers bruising into your hips.

This time isn’t any different, really. “Can't believe you let me do this to you.” He pants over your bare back, feeling the plush of his lips trace your spine “M gonna take care of you, sweet girl, don't you worry.”

You respond with a whine, as his hand creeps around your face to cup at your mouth. He molds you and moves you as he pleases, and you let him. Even when his thrusts get a bit violent and your eyes seem to find a better home behind your head, a sharp smack to your ass brings you back down to earth, trying to squirm away from the never- changing overwhelm of pleasure.

“Don’t run from me” he singsongs in between grunts, his grip at the crease of your hips, letting the fat there hug his fingers, as you feel his nails dig into your skin, his rings pinching at you “You wanted this, didn’t you?” he continues, removing his hand from your mouth for a split second, to hear a pornographic mhm! escape the fullness of your lips, bitten raw from Eddie’s ministrations a moment before, as he picked you up and sat you down on the sink.

“One of these days” he begins, his smoker’s lungs not allowing him much reprieve between his rough thrusts into you and his ragged breath. “One of these days, I’ll take you out, huh pretty girl? After work, jus’ me and you. Take you on a nice date, bring you home” a sharper thrust comes after that, your head becomes smushed against the mirror, your ragged breath fogging up the glass.

“Fuck you on a real bed, would you like that? I’d be so good to you baby” he almost pleads, as if he was a dumb teenager trying to convince you to run away with him. His tone is pouty, condescending. He knows that he could get you to do whatever he wanted if he asked, and the thought of it makes you weak in the knees.

You know he only has a few thrusts left, with only five minutes of your break remaining. The loud schlick sounds fill up the dingy, neon- lit bathroom, your ears ring as strings of fuck, you’re so tight and your muffled cries against his hand accompany Eddie’s impeding release. Not for you, not when you’ll be closing with him in a couple hours.

He spills himself into you, biting on your shoulder to muffle the loud grunt that escapes him. He quickly tucks himself back into his black trousers, pulling up your panties with a wicked grin.

“I’ll see you at closing time, sweet girl”

_

lmao idk what this was (i think i’m ovulating)

(pssst @littlexdeaths this is for u)

[sorchathered]

He’s in love with the girl

Pairing-Jake Seresin x reader

Warnings- smut and language

A/N- I’m baaaack yall! Here’s a little smutty one shot to tie you over until I post for kinktober! @bobgasm and I have been reading too many cowboy romances lately so here’s a little brother’s best friend romance for ya.

Summary- Jake comes home for the summer and falls head over heels for his bestie’s little sister. How’s he gonna tell him that he thinks she’s the one?

———————————————————————————

He shouldn’t be here.

He knows he absolutely shouldn’t , and yet here he is, body pressed up against your bedroom door with his hands in your hair and your lips on his neck.

Any other girl on earth would have been suitable, but no, Jake Seresin just had to fall in love with his best friend’s baby sister.

He’d come home on leave for a month and had expected it to be just like any other trip to Austin. Bar hopping and wrangling cattle, until you walked into his mama’s house. Freshly graduated from college and looking every bit his type. Gorgeous, smart, funny, and a little bit mean to him; it was like kryptonite to him.

He could lie and say he tried to stay away, but you both know that wasn’t true at all. He was down bad, sneaking quiet moments with you in the barn, stopping by to see you after your shifts at the hospital, midnight drives to nowhere that ended with you both tangled up in the back seat of his truck. Your poor brother didn’t have a damn clue, his own life and family kept him just busy enough to keep him out of the loop, and you’d keep it from him as long as you could. Last thing you wanted was for him to pop the perfect bubble the two of you were in.

It wasn’t like he’d held a torch for you or anything like that, anything untoward he was sure Gavin could dream up just wasn’t true. When he’d been reintroduced to you at the beginning of the summer it was like you were a completely different person, not at all the annoying pre teen girl with her one direction obsession that had followed them around years before. You were a bad ass nurse now, someone who took no shit and he’d been falling over himself to get your attention ever since. You’d brushed him off and tried to stay away, but you couldn’t deny that there was absolutely something there, and when he kissed you for the first time it had scared you just how much you wanted more.

“You’re a goddamn dream you know that?” Jake sighed as you ran your nose along his sharp jawline, hands fumbling with his belt as he let his hands roam over the small of your back down to your ass as he kneaded one and then the other cheek before lifting you into his arms. You let out a shriek and erupted into giggles as he carried you to your bed and spread you out on the worn cross and crown patterned quilt.

“You’re gonna get us both in trouble if you keep manhandling me like this you big oaf, the whole house is gonna think-“

“I don’t give a shit what they think, you could scream my name loud enough that they hear it in town, don’t make a difference to me, sugar. I’m tired of sneaking around; want you to be mine.” He had both hands on your hips, staring down at you like you hung the moon and stars. It stole your breath away, you’d thought he’d just been fooling around with you all summer, just another notch in the Hangman’s belt. But the way he was looking at you, it made things feel very, very real.

“Jake. What about Gavin?” You whispered, and he gave a little shake of his head, trying to rid himself of the spell your half naked body had him under. He needed to get this off his chest, if you wanted what he wanted then Gavin could take a long walk off a short pier for all he cared; he’d get over it eventually.

He eased himself on top of you and swiped a loose hair behind your ear, watching as your body relaxed from his touch. Cocky grin plastered on his pretty face as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, he took a deep breath and let the words loose that he’d kept buried deep all summer long.

“You know I love Gavin, I’d go to the ends of the earth for that idiot, but I’d be lying if I said his opinion matters one bit when it comes to this. I want you, y/n. I don’t just want you for the summer, I’ll do long distance, late night phone calls, whatever you’ll let me until I can make this permanent. I never thought I’d be the settling down type but damnit darlin’ I’ve got all sorts of dreams planned for me and you, and if you want that too it doesn’t matter what anyone wants or thinks about us, all that matters is how much I’m totally wrapped around your little finger.”

“But-“ he cut you off by placing his lips on yours, letting his hands slide up your sides to cup your face and stealing your breath.

He wasn’t having it- clearly your stubborn ass wasn’t hearing him, he’d just have to show you instead.

He had you naked and spread out before you could even come up with another coherent thought, golden head of hair buried between your legs as he brought you to the edge…and then stopped.

“Look at me pretty girl, I want your eyes on mine when you come, all those sweet noises you make are for me, no one else you got it?” He was being a giant tease, fingers still buried deep as you tried to fight the urge to smack that stupid grin off his face.

“Fuck- you can’t just stop, I- I need-“

“I know what you need baby, and I’ll give it to you every time. But you’re gonna commit this to memory, no one’s ever gonna get to see you like this ‘cept me ever again, you’re mine, and you know I’m used to getting what I want.” He says with a wink, sliding back down to suck your clit into his hot mouth, watching as you arch your whole body into him with a whine.

“Yours Jake, just yours.”

He felt the sun through the blinds and groaned, it was too damn early and warm all wrapped up in you, but he couldn’t put off his plans forever, there was too much at stake and he’d chicken out if he waited much longer. Pressing kisses to your face and neck he untangled himself from you and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. He had to come clean to Gavin, and if it didn’t end up with a black eye he’d call that a win.

He pulled up to the diner on Main that had been home to many a hangover meal and found Gavin lounging in their favorite booth along the back wall, his gruff exterior a complete facade as soon as Jake came in the door. Goofy wide smile splitting his face as he made his way over to the table, but Jake couldn’t bring the smile to his eyes. He’d been ready for battle on the drive here, but now that he was inside he felt his resolve crumble a little. He’d known him since they were in diapers, their moms had been debutantes together for god sake; what was he supposed to do if this ended sour?

Knocked loose from his thoughts as the waitress, Gladys, who was probably here when the town began, brought him a steaming cup of coffee and ruffled his hair. He could do this, he just needed to man up. He’d fought in firefights thousands of miles in the sky, surely this would be easier.

“You’ve been here all summer and I swear it feels like we’ve barely seen you brother, where the hell you been?” Gavin says as he digs into his breakfast, chomping away at his pancakes with no idea what bomb is about to be dropped on him.

Jake wipes his sweaty palms on the front of his jeans as he stares intently on his steaming mug, drawing a shaky breath and preparing for the worst.

“I’ve uh- I’ve been seeing somebody. I know I should’ve been better about keeping in touch, just kinda got caught up in it. It’s why I asked you here bud, gotta talk to you about it before I explode if I’m honest.”

Gavin stops his Joey Chestnut impression long enough to look over Jake’s stoic exterior, and guffaws. Throws his head back and quite literally cackles.

“Ha- oh shit man, I’ve been waiting on you to spill the beans on this shit. You should see your damn face “we need to talk Gav, I’m in love.” Hahaha goddamn, if I’d known all it would take is my sister coming back into town to get you to settle down I'd have tried to play matchmaker years ago.”

Jake nearly drops his mug, eyes bugging out of his head.

“You- you know?! Jesus Christ Gav, I’ve been losing my shit over this for days, way to bury the lead.”

“Oh come on, you two haven’t exactly been subtle. For someone who is supposedly a stealth pilot, you sure don’t know how to hide a relationship. Also, if you’re going to fool around with her at mom and pop’s, might want to remember the walls are paper thin. We found you guys out weeks ago dude.” He goes right back to destroying his plate, like the two of them had been talking about sports scores and not the fact that Jake was definitely fucking Gavin’s baby sister.

“You don’t need my permission, and you definitely have my approval if you were really that worried. She’s harbored a crush for years, doesn’t surprise me in the least that she shot her shot. Just do me a favor, don’t make her wait too long before you propose, she’d probably say yes with a ring made out of napkins from the way she looks at you.”

He didn’t make you wait long at all, and crazy as it all sounded to his squad back in Fightertown when he showed up at the end of block leave with a fiancée, they knew he was hooked from the minute you introduced yourself. You transferred hospitals and made the move to California, and made his empty bachelor pad a home with all your fancy appliances and skincare products he couldn’t pronounce to save his life.

When you both had gotten all the boxes unpacked he laid you down in your shared bed and made love to you like he hoped he’d get to do for the rest of his life, he couldn’t wait to start a life with you, and maybe a baby.. or 5, but that would be a whole other discussion for another day.

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🏷️ tagging- @roosterforme @nouis-bum @sebsxphia @teacupsandtopgun @sunsetsimpsblog @sio-ina-bottle @kissmecaitie @mynameismckenziemae @senawashere @seitmai-too @kmc1989 @shanimallina87 @dizzybee03 @mygyn @jessicab1991 @djs8891 @the-aspiring-fanfic-writer @86laura11

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

PR disaster p.2

Hey guyss, since you liked part 1 and I love Franco I decided to do part 2. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do and if you want to read more of my stories here's my masterlist :)

Y/N stood in front of her bathroom mirror, staring at her reflection as she tugged nervously at the hem of her dress. Why on earth was she nervous? This was just a deal—a professional arrangement. She had agreed to go on this ridiculous date with Franco purely to keep him in check. There was no reason for her stomach to be doing flips or for her hands to be fidgeting like she was a teenager going on her first date.

“Get it together,” she muttered to herself, giving her reflection one last once-over.

Her dress was simple but elegant, a deep blue that she usually wore to events where she needed to look put together. Neutral. Not too flirty, not too casual. And yet, as she looked at herself, she couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—she had spent a little extra time getting ready.

She shook her head, rolling her eyes at her own ridiculousness. "It’s just Franco," she whispered, trying to remind herself who this date was with. That thought should’ve made her relax, but instead, it only made her heart race faster.

Just then, the sound of a knock at her door pulled her out of her thoughts. She took a deep breath, smoothing down her dress once more before heading to answer.

When she opened the door, there stood Franco, leaning casually against the frame with his signature grin firmly in place. His dark curls were styled perfectly, and his shirt—though slightly unbuttoned at the collar—looked annoyingly well put together. He always managed to toe the line between effortless and way too charming.

Franco’s eyes flicked over her outfit, and for a moment, something softer passed across his expression. "Wow," he murmured, his voice lower than usual. "Te ves… increíble, jefa." (You look … incredible, boss)

Y/N felt the warmth rush to her cheeks before she could stop it. “It’s just a dress,” she said, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible. “And stop calling me ‘jefa.’ We’re off duty.”

Franco’s grin returned in full force, and he leaned in slightly. "Oh, perdón. ¿Debería llamarte hermosa entonces?" (Oh, sorry. ¿Should I call you beautiful instead?)

She blinked, trying to decipher what he had just said before waving a hand dismissively. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Franco chuckled softly, stepping aside and offering his arm with an exaggerated flourish. "As you wish, hermosa." (Beautiful)

She ignored the Spanish this time and brushed past him, pretending not to notice how nice his cologne smelled as they headed out.

The restaurant Franco had chosen was a small, cosy spot in the heart of the city. It was intimate without being too romantic—just a perfect balance. Y/N had to give him credit; she had expected something flashy or over-the-top, but this was… nice.

Throughout dinner, Franco was, unsurprisingly, his usual self. He flirted relentlessly, slipping in compliments in both English and Spanish, leaving Y/N constantly on edge trying to figure out what he was saying. But as much as she tried to keep her usual grumpy exterior, she found herself laughing more than she’d care to admit.

“So,” Franco said, leaning forward, a playful glint in his eyes. “Are you having fun yet, or are you still counting the minutes until this is over?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, taking a sip of her wine to hide the smile she couldn’t quite suppress. “It’s… tolerable.”

“Tolerable?” he repeated, feigning offense. “Y/N, you wound me. I was hoping for at least ‘moderately enjoyable.’”

She let out a small laugh despite herself, shaking her head. “Fine. Maybe it’s a little fun.”

Franco grinned, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. “See? I told you I could be charming.”

“Charming isn’t the word I’d use,” she shot back, though there was no real bite behind her words.

They continued talking, their banter flowing effortlessly between them. Despite Y/N’s initial hesitation, she realized she was actually enjoying herself. Franco, as annoying as he could be, was surprisingly easy to talk to when he wasn’t causing PR disasters.

The evening went by faster than she expected, and by the time they left the restaurant, she couldn’t deny that Franco had managed to wear down her defenses. They walked side by side down the quiet street, the night air cool and refreshing after the warmth of the restaurant.

“You know,” Franco began, his tone a little softer now, “I didn’t just ask you out to make a deal.”

Y/N glanced up at him, brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

He stopped walking, turning to face her fully. His usual playful grin was gone, replaced by a sincerity she hadn’t seen before. "I asked you out because… I like you, Y/N. Even when you’re all grumpy and serious, you’re…" He paused, searching for the right words. "Eres increíble. You’re smart, tough, and you don’t let me get away with anything. I like that." (You are incredible)

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

Franco took a step closer, his eyes locked on hers. "No tienes idea de cuánto me gustas." (You have no idea how much I like you)

This time, Y/N didn’t need a translation. She understood perfectly, and for the first time, she didn’t push him away.

Franco’s hand reached up, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft and lingering. "Tell me to stop," he whispered, his voice barely audible.

But Y/N didn’t want him to stop. Instead, she found herself leaning in, her heart pounding in her chest as her eyes fluttered closed.

And then, Franco’s lips met hers.

The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if he was waiting to see if she’d pull away. But when she didn’t, Franco deepened it, his hand slipping to the small of her back, pulling her closer. Y/N’s arms wrapped around his neck, her earlier grumpiness melting away as she let herself get lost in the moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless. Franco smiled down at her, his forehead resting against hers.

"So," he murmured, still slightly out of breath, "I think this date went pretty well, ¿no?"

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re impossible.”

Franco grinned, pressing another quick kiss to her lips. "But you like me anyway."

And, much to her own surprise, Y/N realized he was right. She did.

[mbsneur]

Bold motivation

Laia Codina x Reader

Hello everyone, I've returned with a new piece of writing that I hope you'll like and enjoy. Tomorrow, I'll be sharing the Aggie story. I'm open to any feedback and messages you may have, and I'm also open to any wishes you may have! 🩵

Warnings: Smut18+ minors DNI, public sex

My Masterlist

It's been a week since Laia lost not only to Brazil but also to Germany in the bronze medal match, you can understand her, Laia's not really feeling well, she's grumpy with you, she lies on the couch all day and doesn't give you any love and you miss your girlfriend. The season is about to start again and you want to cheer Laia up and take her to the gym, as you both always do when one of you isn't feeling well.

You walk down the hallway in your training leggings and top, towards the living room where Laia is lying on the couch: "Laia, baby, let's go to the gym," you call to her, and she grumbles and turns back into the pillows.

You move closer to her and lean over the couch, planting kisses on her face. "I'm going to cheer you up, Laia. Trust me," you say firmly. Laia finally turns to you. "Let's cuddle on the couch," she says. She says in her sweetest voice, where she knows she can convince you. "And exactly because you're not feeling well, we're going to the gym. Come on. Venga " You say louder this time, and Laia just rolls her eyes.

She gets up and stomps annoyed into your shared bedroom where she puts on her gym clothes, after about 5 minutes she comes back to you still with an annoyed face, you lean against the wall and just laugh at her.

"I finally get a real kiss," you say with a grin, and Laia immediately gives you a soft kiss on the lips, "I only do this because I love you," she says ironically, reaching for her car keys.

You follow her laughing and, despite her bad mood, she is still a gentleman and opens the passenger door for you.

Your journey has been the same as always, Laia has her playlist playing and you talk to her and give her a pep talk and she gives you a little smile now and then.

When you arrived at your gym, checked in and put your things in the locker, you had an idea and luckily the gym wasn't too crowded, you chose a quiet corner where no one was around.

"Laia, can you do 15 sit-ups and then maybe you can get a little reward?" you say mischievously, grinning at her "Yeah, are you going to tell me what to do?" she says with a grin, coming closer to you "The reward, baby," you say teasingly, giving her a quick kiss on the lips.

"What kind of reward will it be?" she asks as she moves to the floor, you just shrug your shoulders and watch her do her sit ups, it always turned you on to see Laia working out.

When Laia has finished her sit-ups, you kneel on the floor and pull her towards you for a kiss. Her tongue slides into your mouth and explores every inch. One of her hands grabs your arm to pull you closer to her. You detach yourself from her and pull your top off. You were wearing a sports bra underneath, so it's not really a problem if anyone sees it.

Laia's eyes roam from top to bottom, taking in your whole body, "ah, I see, that's how it works," she grins and starts to kiss you again, deepening the kiss and reaching for one of your breasts, you push her hand away, "Laia, that's not how it works, you have to do 15 push-ups first," you say, moving away a little, you pull yourself back and she start to nibble at your neck, "Laia," you moan softly, "one minute," she says between kisses and nibbles. one of her hands pinches your nipple you squirm under her and try to move away but she is stuck to you

You moan slightly as Laia kisses your neck again and you finally manage to push her away from you. "Laia, the push-ups," you say, your voice firm and out of breath. She goes to the floor again to do the push-ups. You sit there and watch every movement of her strong arms with every push-up, admiring the way her biceps grow stronger with each one. you knew exactly that sex is the best motivation for laia

Laia has done her push-ups and comes crawling back to you. She lands on your neck bone and kisses it repeatedly. You drop your head back and moan. One of her hands slips under your sports bra to feel your breast, which makes you moan again. When you ask Laia what her favourite body part is on you, she tells you it's your breasts. She has always loved your breasts more than anything.

"Laia, stop, you have to run a few kilometres on the treadmill" you say, breathing lightly and Laia moves away from you, you realise that at this moment she would do anything you ask her to because she wants you, she wants to fuck you in this gym.

She gets on the treadmill, a little reluctantly, and you have a plan. You sit down directly in front of Laia so that she has the perfect view of you. You were turned on by the whole thing. Laia had worked on your breasts before, and you now look directly in front of her with your legs spread apart.

When you looked at Laia, she was nervous, her eyes were almost black and she was struggling to walk, you wanted to give her a little show, you played with your bra straps and rubbed your thighs.

Laia's mouth is slightly open as she turns off the treadmill and starts to walk towards you, "Laia, no," you say in an annoyed voice, but Laia ignores your words and comes over to you, grabbing your arm, "Let's go to the toilet," she says in a slightly angry voice, pulling you up from the bench.

She pulls you behind her on the way to the toilets. You quickly grab your top, when you arrive at the toilets. Laia pushes you in and starts kissing you harder than before. You moan into her mouth and she pushes you by the hips into one of the cubicles. She pushes you against the door and her hands wander all over your body.

She nibbles on your lips and god you are so wet your underwear is ruined. "What were you thinking teasing me like that?" she says against your lips. "I wanted to motivate you, baby," you say out of breath from all the kissing. Laia turns you around and pushes you onto the toilet lid. Within a second she is kneeling in front of you.

She kisses the bare skin on your belly and pulls your trousers down to your ankles "You will be quiet now or I swear to God you will not be able to walk for the next three weeks," she says in her strong Spanish accent and something about the thought pleases you.

She pushes your underwear aside and works your pussy directly with her mouth. You whimper and hold a hand directly in front of your mouth to suppress any noise. Laia is enchanting with her tongue, and you can't help about this

She looks at you and teases you with her middle finger, playing with your entrance.

"Don't tease me, Laia," you say firmly. "Let's make this quick I want to take you home and fuck you until you forget your name."

You moan at her words and her middle finger slips quickly into your wet hole.

Her mouth lands on your clit again and her finger pumps into you. Your head hits the tile wall and a slight whimper comes out of your mouth. Laia gives you a warning look and you press your hand harder against your mouth. You can hear how wet you are with every thrust Laia makes with her fingers.

You press against her, and her tongue clamps around your clitoris. She lifts your leg over her shoulder to get deeper inside you before a second finger slides easily inside you. You moan, and Laia bites lightly on your bundle of nerves. She pumps faster inside you, and your legs start to shake. Laia drives you closer to the edge.

"Laia, I'm coming," you say between moans and whimpers, your leg pressing closer to her cheek as she gets mercilessly faster "don't hold back baby cum for me," she says and immediately starts licking you again.

Your body relaxes against hers until you cum on her fingers and make a mess as she pulls away from you. Her mouth and fingers are covered in your juices. Her lips are glossy and slightly swollen above a dazed smile. "Such a good little pup, aren't you?" she says in a low voice. "Let's go home," she adds, and she helps you get dressed.

Tell me your opinion <33

[verstappenverse]

Not Over Yet

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: In the heat of a painful argument, you declare that your relationship with Max is over, leaving him desperate to hold on.

1.3k words / Masterlist

The deafening silence of the Monaco apartment was suffocating. The echoes of the fight still rang in the air long after the words had been spoken. Max sat on the edge of the couch, his fingers gripping the fabric so hard his knuckles were white. You stood across the room arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as if trying to hold everything together.

“We’re over, Max.” The words hung heavy in the room, each one feeling like a stone dropped into a deep well.

He looked up, his blue eyes wide with shock and disbelief. “What?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

You turned away from him, unable to face the hurt in his eyes. The hurt that mirrored your own. “I said, we’re done. I can’t—” You struggled to keep your voice steady. “I can’t keep doing this.”

The argument had started hours ago—something small, something insignificant that had spiralled out of control like it always did these days. The never-ending travel, the constant pressure. You knew what you were signing up for when you fell for him, but lately, it felt like everything else in your life had taken a backseat. There were always missed dinners, cancelled plans, and nights where you felt like the third wheel to his love affair with the track.

Max’s eyes hardened for a moment, his pride kicking in as he stood up and paced the length of the living room. “You think I don’t give enough to this relationship?” He snapped, his voice rising. “I work my ass off every day, trying to make sure we have everything. I’m always thinking of you, even when I’m on the track. I—”

“It’s not about the money or the success, Max!” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “It’s about us. About how I feel like I’m always second to everything else in your life. Like I’m not as important.”

Max stopped in his tracks, his back to you as he exhaled sharply. He raked a hand through his tousled hair, trying to calm his emotions. “That’s not fair,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, but still laced with frustration.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the tears threatening to spill over. “What’s not fair is me feeling alone when you’re standing right next to me.”

He turned to face you, the anger in his eyes replaced with something softer. But it was too late. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. The weight of your decision pressed down on your chest, and you took a deep breath before you spoke again.

“We’re over,” you whispered. The finality in your voice made it feel real. “We have to be.”

Max’s face went pale. He took a step toward you, but stopped himself his hands twitching at his sides. He looked at you, really looked at you, for what felt like the first time in weeks. “You…you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” You choked on the words as soon as they left your lips. You didn’t mean it. Not really. But you couldn’t keep living in the shadows, couldn’t keep pretending like everything was fine when it wasn’t.

Max’s heart hammered in his chest the fear of losing you clawing at his throat. He had faced impossible races, gut-wrenching crashes, the pressure of the world’s expectations—but nothing compared to the panic that gripped him now. The thought of losing you of truly being without you, was something he couldn’t handle.

He shook his head slowly, refusing to accept what you were saying. “No. No, we’re not over.”

You blinked back the tears, confused by the certainty in his voice. “Max, you can’t just—”

“I’m not letting you go,” he interrupted, his voice firm but low, almost pleading. “I know I’ve been…distracted. I know I haven’t been there the way I should. But you don’t get to decide we’re done. You can’t just give up on us. Not like this.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The apartment felt too small, too full of emotions that neither of you could control.

You felt your defences crumbling, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. But the hurt was still too raw. “It’s not that simple, Max.”

Max closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, his hands coming up to gently cup your face, forcing you to look at him. His touch was warm grounding you in a way only he could.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice softer now, desperate. “I know I’ve made mistakes. But I love you. You. You’re not second to anything. You never were. I’m an idiot for making you feel that way, but please…please don’t give up on us.”

You wanted to believe him, wanted to let the walls you had built around your heart crumble. But the fear was still there—the fear that things wouldn’t change, that this would be your life forever, always wondering if you were enough.

Max’s thumb gently brushed away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice cracking just slightly. It was rare to see Max like this, so raw, so open.

You closed your eyes trying to steady your breathing, trying to find the words to say. “Max, I just… I don’t know if I can keep going like this.”

He pulled you closer his forehead resting against yours as he took a deep, shaky breath. “Then tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it. I’ll do anything.”

His words were sincere, and you could feel the desperation in his voice. It wasn’t like Max to beg, to be so vulnerable, and it only made your resolve weaken further.

“I don’t want us to be over,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want to feel like I’m always competing for your attention either.”

Max pulled back slightly, his hands still gently holding your face as he looked into your eyes. “You’re not competing. I love what I do, but I love you so much more. There’s no competition.”

It was the first time he had ever said it so clearly, so bluntly and it took your breath away.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I forgot about what really matters. You. Us. I swear to you, I’ll do better. I’ll make time for us.”

His sincerity was undeniable, and for the first time in a long time you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things could change. Maybe you could find a way to make it work.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I don’t want to lose you either Max.”

Relief washed over his face and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go. “You won’t. I promise you won’t.”

For a long moment you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms the weight of the fight slowly lifting as you both began to breathe a little easier. The future was still uncertain, and there would be more challenges ahead, but for now you were both willing to try.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like the two of you were on the same team.

Max pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’re not over,” he said softly, as if he needed to hear it out loud.

You nodded, resting your head against his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. “We’re not over.”

[callsigns-haze]

I love your writing! I really love the protective Tyler/Reader stories. With fall approching I have a request, if you would like to write it.

What if Tyler and Female Reader are dating and he takes her to a haunted house or haunted woods. She is really scared and he's making fun of her kinda, but once they get in there, he realizes something's not right and it's not a 'safe' haunted house, so he has to fight for her and protect her or something. Use your imagination, just a general idea.

Spooky

Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader

Summary: Tyler and Y/N’s haunted house date turns into a fight for survival when they realize the danger is all too real.

Warning: Contains intense scenes of danger, violence, and peril.

Tyler had always been the brave one, the one who thrived on adventure and the thrill of the unknown. When he suggested taking Y/N to the most notorious haunted attraction in the area, she hesitated but eventually agreed. She trusted him, and besides, it was just a haunted house—nothing she couldn’t handle.

As they arrived at the entrance to the Haunted Woods, the atmosphere was already chilling. The moonlight barely pierced through the dense canopy of trees, and the air was thick with the scent of damp earth and decaying leaves. Eerie sounds echoed through the woods—distant screams, rustling leaves, and low, ominous groans.

Tyler, always the tease, glanced over at Y/N with a smirk. “You’re not scared, are you?” he asked, his tone light and playful.

Y/N forced a smile, clutching his arm a little tighter. “Of course not,” she lied, though her heart was already racing. “It’s just a bit spooky, that’s all.”

Tyler chuckled, clearly amused by her nerves. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ve got you. Nothing in here is real, remember? Just actors in costumes trying to give us a good scare.”

But as they ventured deeper into the woods, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. The scares seemed too intense, too realistic. The actors were a little too convincing, their screams more desperate than playful. The darkness felt suffocating, and the path seemed to twist and turn in ways that made no sense.

At first, Tyler continued to make light of the situation, joking about the overly dramatic performances and the fake blood splattered on the trees. But as they stumbled upon an abandoned shack in the middle of the woods, his playful demeanor began to fade.

The shack was old, with its wood rotting and vines creeping up the sides. A dim light flickered from within, casting long, eerie shadows that danced across the clearing. The door creaked open slightly, as if inviting them inside.

Y/N tugged on Tyler’s sleeve, her voice trembling. “Tyler, I don’t like this. Can we go back?”

Tyler frowned, glancing around. The usual trail markers were nowhere to be seen. The path they had come from had seemingly vanished into the dense forest behind them. “Yeah, let’s head back,” he agreed, his voice more serious now.

But as they turned to leave, the door of the shack slammed shut with a loud bang, startling them both. Y/N gasped, her fear spiking as she clung to Tyler. “Tyler, what was that?”

He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes narrowing as he surveyed their surroundings. The eerie silence that followed was unnerving, and a chill ran down his spine. Something wasn’t right—this wasn’t just part of the attraction.

“We need to move,” Tyler said quietly, his voice low and tense. He took Y/N’s hand, leading her away from the shack and deeper into the woods, hoping to find another path.

But as they walked, the forest seemed to close in around them. The trees grew thicker, the branches hanging low like twisted arms reaching out to grab them. The sounds of the haunted attraction faded, replaced by the unsettling silence of the woods. The only sound was the crunch of leaves under their feet and Y/N’s quickening breaths.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows ahead of them—a man, tall and looming, his face obscured by a grotesque mask. Y/N froze in terror, gripping Tyler’s hand so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

Tyler instinctively moved in front of her, his protective instincts kicking in. “Who’s there?” he called out, his voice strong and commanding.

The figure didn’t respond. Instead, it started moving toward them with deliberate, slow steps, the leaves crunching ominously beneath its feet. Tyler’s heart pounded in his chest as he realized this wasn’t just an actor—it was something far more dangerous.

“Run,” Tyler whispered to Y/N, keeping his eyes locked on the approaching figure. “Go back the way we came. I’ll hold him off.”

Y/N hesitated, fear rooting her to the spot. “Tyler, no—I’m not leaving you!”

“Go!” Tyler insisted, pushing her gently but firmly in the direction they came from. “I’ll be right behind you!”

Y/N’s eyes filled with tears, but she knew there was no time to argue. She turned and ran, her heart pounding in her chest, the dark woods closing in around her.

Tyler squared his shoulders, ready to confront the figure. But just as he prepared to defend himself, the man lunged at him, revealing a flash of something metallic in his hand—a knife. Tyler dodged just in time, narrowly avoiding the blade. He fought back, using his strength and agility to fend off the attacker, but the man was relentless.

The struggle was brutal, Tyler’s every move fueled by the need to protect Y/N. He managed to land a few solid hits, disarming the man and sending the knife clattering to the ground. But as he turned to follow Y/N, he heard her scream—a blood-curdling sound that made his heart stop.

Tyler sprinted in the direction of her voice, adrenaline surging through his veins. He found her not far away, cornered by another figure who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. This one was smaller, but no less menacing, with a wicked grin that made Tyler’s blood run cold.

Without a second thought, Tyler charged at the assailant, tackling him to the ground. He fought with everything he had, his sole focus on keeping Y/N safe. The assailant struggled beneath him, but Tyler’s determination was unbreakable. He delivered a final, powerful punch that left the man unconscious on the forest floor.

Panting and battered, Tyler turned to Y/N, who was trembling and pale. He rushed to her side, pulling her into his arms. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice rough with concern.

Y/N nodded, but tears streamed down her face as she clung to him. “Tyler, what is this place? We need to get out of here!”

Tyler nodded, realizing the severity of their situation. “We will. We just need to find the main path again.”

Supporting Y/N, Tyler led her through the woods, trying to stay as calm as possible despite the fear gnawing at him. Every rustle in the leaves, every shadow that shifted in the corner of his vision set him on edge.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally stumbled upon the main trail. In the distance, they could see the faint glow of the exit and hear the muffled sounds of other people—the real haunted attraction, far safer than the nightmare they had just experienced.

Tyler tightened his grip on Y/N’s hand as they hurried toward the exit. Relief washed over them as they emerged from the woods, the familiar sounds and lights of the attraction grounding them back in reality.

As they caught their breath, Tyler turned to Y/N, his face pale but determined. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I had no idea…”

Y/N shook her head, still shaken but grateful to be out of there. “It’s not your fault, Tyler. You protected me. That’s all that matters.”

Tyler pulled her close, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’ll never take you to something like this again, I promise.”

She leaned into him, finding comfort in his embrace. “I think I’ve had enough haunted houses for a lifetime.”

They walked back to the car, both shaken but incredibly thankful to have made it out together. As they drove away from the Haunted Woods, the adrenaline began to wear off, replaced by exhaustion and a deep sense of relief.

Tyler reached over and took Y/N’s hand, squeezing it gently. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Y/N looked at him, her eyes filled with love and gratitude. “I am, thanks to you.”

They drove in silence for a while, the tension slowly melting away as they left the horrors of the night behind them. It had been a terrifying experience, but it had also brought them closer, reminding them both of the strength of their bond.

By the time they arrived home, they were both exhausted, but safe. Tyler helped Y/N out of the car, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they walked inside. They didn’t need to say anything; the way they held onto each other said it all.

That night, as they lay in bed, Tyler pulled Y/N close, his arms wrapped protectively around her. They both knew they had faced something truly terrifying together, but they had come out the other side stronger.

And that was all that mattered.

tagging some:

@senawashere

@saviorcomplexrry

@cevansbaby-dove

@saynotononsense

@missdottie

@willowisp7

@taorislover94

@eloquenceinpurple

@86laura11

@rosiahills22

@jessicab1991

@kmc1989

@shanimallina87

@eternalsams

@teen-antisocial

@katiemcrae

[outermaybanks]

practice part iii - part one // part two a/n: didn't have the energy to proofread we die like men. cw for manipulation (less than previous parts tho), p in v, 18+ mdni

“You sure ‘bout this, cupcake?” JJ asked, his breathing already heavy as he practically drools, staring at the wet spot forming on your panties. “Just want to go a bit further… just a little bit,” you mumbled needily. The air felt thicker, your heart racing, an impulse driven by a feeling you had never felt before, but everything in you told you JJ was the answer. “Just on the outside?” JJ asked, to which you nodded, and that was all the confirmation JJ needed before planting his hands on either side of your head, then leaning on his forearm as he carefully guided his pink, leaking tip to press against your clothed cunt. The friction alone made you let out a sweet sound of pleasure, one that would be burned into JJ’s memory. 

His breathing started to pick up, even you weren’t oblivious to the way he seemed to ache for more, mimicking your own pathetic need as his hips move erratically, trying anything to get the best angle, but it wasn’t enough for you, a needy whine falling from your throat. JJ knew what you needed, he needed it too. 

“It’d feel better without your panties in the way,” JJ quickly offered. “But… Jay… that’s basically-” “Just the tip, it doesn’t count… it’ll feel real good, princess, promise. Have I been wrong before?”

JJ had been plenty wrong in the duration of your friendship, but you really, really wanted him to be right.

“Okay… but just a little bit.”

“Here-” JJ said before wrapping his arm around you, rolling you do you rested on his lap, him beneath you. “This way you’re in charge, mkay?”

His words made you furrow your eyebrows together, and JJ could see the confusion written on your face, so he rested his hands on your hips, slowly moving you back and forth against him. You quickly understood what he was getting on, so you placed your hands flat on his chest, and hesitantly started grinding against him like you did to your pillow late at night. It didn’t take long for you to figure out that his tip brushing against your clit felt like heaven.

“There- you can- can control how much you want to go in, kay?” JJ said softly, trying to maintain his composure, trying to keep you thinking this was still all your idea. “How much is- I mean-” “Don’t worry about that. Just do what feels right, baby” JJ practically purred, sitting up to put his hands on the back of your head, pulling you down to press his lips against yours. As your focus shifted to kissing him, it took you a second to realize JJ’s other hand had moved to your thigh, rubbing and kneading the flesh softly before sliding his hand under them to lift you slightly. He was getting impatient, he needed to feel you, but he knew he couldn’t push, not when he was finally so close. No, you had to be the one to take this next step. 

“JJ- you sure this okay?” you asked between labored breaths. “Yeah, ‘course I am… I mean- if you don’t want to-” “No, no, no, I do, I promise”

“There’s nothing wrong with it, baby, we’re friends, we’re just helping each other feel good. Friends want friends to feel good, right?”

You nod, “Yeah, you’re right.” 

JJ smiled before putting his hand on the back of your head, pulling you in for another kiss. His kiss always left you feeling drunk, and this moment was no exception. JJ’s hand guided yours to his dick, helping you angle it and line it up against you. The pressure against you had you craving more, and you found yourself desperate to believe JJ: just the tip, it doesn’t count.

Your fingers grip the fabric of his shirt as you try to lower yourself just a bit, JJ was quick to help, and when you felt him inside, both of you let out a relieved groan at the feeling. Suddenly, it felt like this was always supposed to happen. And you wanted more.

“Mm.. J…” you whined softly, hoping he could read your mind. “Yeah baby?” he practically hissed through gritted teeth, trying to control himself. Instead of using words, you let out another whine, but JJ understood perfectly. “You want more, cupcake?”

You didn’t want to answer, didn’t want to say what you really wanted out loud. But JJ could read it on your face.

“Take what you need, baby, s’okay.”

You bit your lip as you sank down further, your focus on the concentration; telling yourself just a little more, just a little more- until your head fell back from the overwhelming feeling of being filled by JJ, your hips collapsing down, unable to hold yourself up.

JJ let out a hiss, his hands immediately coming to your hips. “Sh-Shit-” “JJ…” you whine needily, your arms wrapping around his neck. 

“Shh, I got you, cupcake. Want me to stay still? Or-” “Want you to move, please JJ-” you mumbled, surrendering to your urges. JJ didn’t need to be told twice; he had waited a long time for this moment. One of JJ’s arms snaked around you, taking hold of your waist to lift you softly so he could thrust up into you, making your head fall against his shoulder.

“There you go, baby, I’m here, I gotcha,” JJ said softly into your ear, but you could barely bring yourself to focus. “God you feel so fucking good… knew you would.”

Your breathing was getting heavier, breathier, the praise made your body feel warm all over. Small whines and whimpers escaped your throat right into JJ’s ears as if the sinful sounds created by your sloppy cunt wasn’t enough evidence of the pleasure he was giving you. Your body was still humming from the ecstasy of your first orgasm, there was no way you were lasting long, not when your body was still buzzing from your first orgasm, not when he filled you so perfectly, his hips moving at just the right pace; it was like JJ already perfectly understood your body, and knew what you needed before you did. 

“‘M gonna…” you mustered out. “JJ-” “I know… can feel it… s’okay, baby, let go for me…”

Your breathing got faster and faster, your moans grew louder and louder, you came with a cry of his name, your arms holding onto him for dear life. 

Neither of you moved, just staying perfectly still minus the rapid rising and falling of your chests as your both pant for air. As the lustful fog started to fade away, a slight panic started to rise in your chest: had you made a terrible mistake? Is your friendship with JJ ruined forever?

Before your anxiety could spiral any further, JJ spoke. “God you have… no idea how… how long I wanted to… do that,” JJ breathed out between labored breaths, as if he knew you needed some reassurance that this was still okay. 

“That was… Oh my god…” your breathing still hadn’t returned to normal. JJ chuckled, moving some hair out of your face, admiring the blissed out look you had, his eyes trailing from the hazy look in your eyes, to the way your heart was still beating out of your chest, and he knew in that moment he could never go back to pretending he didn’t feel this desire for you.

“You did so good, baby… now, next time you’re feeling needy like that, you just call me right on over, ‘kay cupcake? Papa J will come take care of you.”

[enidette]

HEAVEN BESIDE YOU

warnings :: both are 18+, no real d/s dynamics, kinda fluffy first time smut stuff, riding, unprotected sex (ill advised in an apocalypse but yolo)

carl grimes x fem!reader

carl remembers the first time he spoke to you. you lived in alexandria before he did, but had a similar backstory. you lived out there with walkers for years before you were welcomed into these walls. you caught his interest immediately, but the fact you stuck to yourself so much made it difficult for him to even learn your name.

that only piqued his interest more.

he would look for you, especially on watch shifts. he’d follow even, never getting caught. or so he’d thought. until one day he followed you out to the woods, hiding behind trees as you walked. you took a different path this time, leading him to a clearing. a large piece of land with an old, broke down car in the middle.

he watches you go further and further from his hiding spot, eventually deciding to go home when you turn around with a confused expression. your gaze finds his and he stands up straight, looking at you like a deer caught in headlights

“you’re not coming?” your voice had genuine curiosity, making him quirk a brow at you. he emerges from the trees but doesn’t try getting closer.

“what?”

you let out a short laugh, digging in your bag before tossing him a comic you’d find on one of your runs. he watches you turn back around and head towards the car, following you quickly this time.

“you think i haven’t noticed you, cowboy?” he grimaces at the nickname, looking at the comic in his hands instead of you. “i’ve noticed you like reading those.” you grab the car door that’s merely leaning on the car, moving it enough for the both of you to get in.

carl huffs, sliding into the backseat with you and moving the door back in place. “i’m surprised you noticed anything about me. you keep to yourself so much.” you nod at him, head turned facing the dusty windshield.

“i know a bit about everyone,” you turn to him a nudge him with your shoulder. “i could learn more about you if you’d let me.”

ever since, that car had become you and carl’s “spot”. somewhere you both would meet up to just be teenagers again, not ones stuck in the apocalypse. you had both grown so close so quickly, it was hard for carl to not see you in a different light.

it didn’t help that you seemed to treat him differently than everyone else. that you always wanted to know more about him. you remembered the things he liked and he’s not blind either, you’re very attractive.

he found himself testing the waters more and more. doing his best to use the little flirting he’s picked up over the years on you. it usually backfires, until one day the two of you are in the backseat of your abandoned car. you’re on one side and he’s on the other.

his comic is in front of his face but his eyes are peaking over it at you. you look focused as you read, popping candies you had both found in your mouth every once and a while. he sees how your skin is slightly glistening with sweat from the virginian summer heat.

he swallows thickly, trying to turn his focus back to his comic when he hears your laughter.

“you’re not exactly smooth, grimes,” you look up at him through your lashes with a small teasing smile. his mouth falls open a bit before turning into a flustered grin. he shakes his head and throws his comic down.

his breathing picks up a bit as he thinks about what to say next. “seemed i was every other time.” you quirk a brow at him, laying your comic down and sitting properly in front of him.

“oh no, grimes. i’ve caught you checking me out,” his face goes hot at your bold statement, embarrassed at how obvious he had been. not like he had much experience in these situations to go off of.

he doesn’t say anything, just adjusts himself in the seat so he’s shoulder to shoulder with you. his eyes avoiding yours that began shamelessly raking up and down his body. your hand goes to his thigh and he tenses up at the sudden contact, unaware of what to do next.

you pause at his reaction, “do you wanna just.. pretend this didn’t happen?” your hand starts to retract when he grabs it, just holding it in his. he looks down at your interlocked hands and just shakes his head. his eye flickers up to yours before going to your lips. he instinctively leans in a bit but stops halfway. the only sound in your ears were the nervous breaths the both of you let out.

you lean your head towards him, the tips of your noses touching. carl tenses at the unfamiliar contact, but doesn’t pull away. “do you wanna kiss me?” your question has him nodding, he didn’t even trust his voice in a situation like this.

you tilt your head up a little, leaning in all the way. your eyes flutter shut when your lips meet and it’s obvious you’re both inexperienced. you awkwardly bring a hand to the back of his head, playing with his hair as you attempt to deepen the kiss.

his hands find your waist, but the odd position has you hesitantly straddling his lap. “is this alright?” you mutter under your breath. the sudden closeness due to how pressed against him you were because of the small carapace hit him like a truck.

his eye raked over your body, mouth a little agape as he nods. you lean back in and the kiss is a little needier, messier. teeth clashing and heavy breaths mixing. an involuntary whimper slips out of his mouth when you grind against him, causing you to pull away and lean towards his ear.

“you make pretty noises, pretty boy.” he shuts his eye at the name, sucking in breaths harsher and harsher the more friction you provided. he had imagined this more times than he’d like to admit.

but it didn’t compare to how soft your lips felt against his, how perfect your skin felt on his fingertips. you’re breathing heavy, your chest rising and falling quickly. he sees how plump your lips are from your kiss, how pretty your skin looks in the rusted-window sunlight.

he pushes himself against you, chest to chest and reattaches your lips. the rocking of your hips becomes quicker and needier and his hands are digging into your hips. you pull away again, placing your hands on his chest before letting them wander. they trace down his abdomen before landing at the waistband of his jeans.

you look up at him quizzically, the two of you too embarrassed to speak. he nods and you unzip his jeans, tugging them down his legs. your impatience gets the best of you leaving you to abandon them at his mid-thighs. he huffs a laugh at your desperation, helping you pull your panties to the side and guide yourself onto his cock.

you whimper at the intrusion, going down slowly. he sucks in a breath through his teeth, throwing his head back. you can’t help but stare at him, his hair framing the art that is his face, his complex scar he’s so ashamed of hidden from your view.

all the whole carl is looking at you like a goddess, half lidded eye raking along your body. your hands are unsteady on his chest, trying your best to steady yourself and bounce on him properly.

your arms wrap around his neck and you lean down to kiss him. it’s a tad softer this time, carl wants to savor this as long as he can. his arms go around your waist, leaving you to grind on him instead. the kiss is messy, mostly heavily breathing into each others mouths trying to stay as close as possible.

carl leans back, opening his mouth to speak but all that comes out is a strangled moan. you can tell he’s close by how his hips messily snap up into yours. you stop your movements, causing carl to whine at the loss of pleasure. you lock your lips with his and bring your hand up to wrap around his cock.

you lead his hand down and his thumb finds your clit, rubbing fast causing whimpers to fall from your lips. his brows furrow and his mouth falls agape while he watches your pretty hand finish him off.

your heavy breaths are the only sound that fill the car until your giggles erupt. “we should head back to alexandria and shower?” carl sighs and shakes his head, tugging your body back down into his,

“later, stay with me.”

taglist :: @carlslvr @herrera2k @hiro--aoki @carlsangel @mozzeralla-stix

[casuallyanidiot]

Author author!! More of deer yandere please😞🙏🙏

Yandere deer hybrid who's so eager to start breeding you. It doesn't matter if you can even get pregnant or not because by god he's going to try his hardest.

Continuation to this

Tw. Noncon, dead dove do not eat, kidnapping, yandere, captivity, breeding kink, overstimulation, bone breaking (mentioned), gn pronouns used for reader, MDNI

Ciervus waits until your leg heals to start the whole ordeal. Never mind the fact that he was the one who broke it, he lavishes you with praise and sympathy. He strokes your hair and whispers about how good you're being by staying nice and pliant in the cave he's prepared for you. You're his good little doe, all snuggled and sweet in his nest.

It almost gives him a sort of rush knowing that you were this big bad thing prowling around the woods with death at their heels. Who would guess that you were so fragile and so fuckable? He chuckles to himself as he pushes your face down into a soft bundle of fur and grabs your ankle. He rolls it gently, and he listens with a contemplative hum as you squeak in slight protest and pain.

"Well, it doesn't seem like it hurts much as before," He comments and lets your foot go limp. Despite the progress, he knows that you're never going to be able to walk the same ever again. He hopes you'll heal enough eventually, but it won't get to the point where you can outrun him. That's all he really cares about anyways.

His antlers have grown a fair amount since he last shed them and presented them to you like a prize. He feels them idly while smoothing his other hand down your nude back. He likes the feeling of your shuddering spine beneath his fingers, and he marvels at how quickly the time has passed. Already a couple months spent cuddling with his little doe... it's honestly impressive how he hasn't lost his composure yet.

But there's no more putting it off, little doe.

He hums and wordlessly grabs your thighs before spreading them apart. Your breath hitches, and his grin widens as he sees your twitching little ass and your leaking privates. His chest rises and fall more rapidly, and he'd forgive you if you mistook him for a snarling, drooling predator in that moment.

"Oh look at you..." He breathes out, kneading the sensitive flesh. You try and drag yourself away, but he gently tsks at the pathetic effort. "Now now, no need to be all shy," He teases lightly, and he positions himself right between your shaking legs. He's not totally oblivious despite the fact that he's never been with anyone before. The right of mating is deeply ingrained in his brain: a gift from generations before to ensure that whatever doe he was trying to pump full of babies would be pliant and sweet with pleasure.

His hands find his cock (impossibly long for a human, even impressive by hybrid standards), and his spits in his palm before he begins to pump and tug on the sensitive skin. He smacks your ass, enjoying the way the flesh jiggles, and he hisses in pleasure. You're everything he's ever wanted. Not these insipid little things that run about the woods and waste his time. You're the real thing. He snakes his hand around and coats it in your tears, shuddering at how you sob despite your pride.

Heat coils in his belly with each movement of his wrist, and he throws his head back with a hearty groan. His release is unceremonious, but he knows the main event is yet to begin. Ropes of his cum coat your lower back and entrance, and he relished the sight, the smell of him on you.

" There, hah, now we can get you all nice and ready," He huffs out and doubled over you so his forehead is pressed between your shoulder blades. His antlers graze against your skin, and if you move too much you'd surely be pricked by them. His shuddering, quiet laughs ghost over your skin. His fingers scoop his cum off your warm skin and dips them down to your twitching, dry entrance. He presses kisses to your neck, and he shushes you when he feels you tense.

"No no no, you're fine, you're fine shhhh. Just give me a moment to make you feel good," He murmurs and leans forward to nibble on your earlobe. Fuck, you're clamping down on his fingers. He hears you hiss out a bit in discomfort, and he coos. He gets knuckle deep, his cum acting like a lubricant to help the process as he stretches you out. You whimper and whine, but eventually he curls his digits in just the right spot to get you all loose and gaping.

He teases you with a little bite to your shoulder, and he rears back enough to line himself up and sink his length in inch by agonizing inch.

You were so tight, the fear making you clamp around him in all the right, delicious ways. All these months of watching, waiting salivating over you, and now he's where he's wanted to be. You twitched, rolling your hips underneath him. He wasn't sure about if it was because you were enjoying this or if it was just another pathetic, stupid attempt to leave him. He grips you by the back of your neck, his other hand gripping your hip as he thrusts roughly into you.

The cave was filled with his grunting, your squeals and moans, and the sounds of your bodies slapping together. He pressed kisses all over you, grabbing your face to turn you into an awkward, arched position where he could bully his cock further into your spongy walls and give you sloppy, smiling kisses.

Soon, he groans and dumps a hot load in you, and he feels you relax. You pant and tremble from your own forced orgasm, and he grins through the darkness. He pets your head, and he feels his cock soften in you. There's a sense of relief from the both of you, you for it being over and Ciervus for it happening at all.

He does feel a bit bad, though, as he member twitches back to life. Your eyes widen, and he pins you down before you can struggle. He's far from done with you, little doe.

[transform4u]

I've been working out at the gym trying to grow my ass and shape my body for this really cute gay guy I've been trying to attract. I heard him say once how much he likes the 'big jock butt' look, but it doesn't seem like he'll ever give me the time of day no matter what I do. I don't understand what is so special about those sweaty, farting straight douchebags he keeps drooling over. Please, I just wish he would finally start giving that attention to me!

You're at the gym, eyeing the squat rack with determination, hoping to catch the gaze of your crush. As you count through your final set—“99… 100”—a sigh of relief escapes your lips, but it’s quickly followed by an obnoxious faaaaaaaarrrrrt that echoes embarrassingly through the gym. You wince, nostrils flaring as the odor hits you, and your face flushes with mortification.

Suddenly, an odd sensation washes over you. Your nose begins to spread wider and wider, and as your face transforms, you realize you’re getting taller. A deep grunt escapes you, a mix of confusion and surprise. Looking down, you notice your butt starting to swell outward, filling with muscle and fat, creating a perfectly rounded bubble butt. You can’t help but giggle at the absurdity of it all—only for another faaaaaaaaarrrrrrt to escape, your newly enhanced rear jiggling in response.

PFFFFFFFFFFFT

In disbelief, you watch as your twig-like body begins to expand. Your biceps swell to the size of small watermelons, bulging dramatically whenever you flex. Veins snake along their surface, accentuating the sinewy striations that tell the story of your relentless effort. Your triceps form a thick horseshoe shape, swelling and tightening, showcasing a level of definition that seems almost too extreme.

Your chest expands, thick pecs resembling slabs of granite, rising and falling with every breath. They push against the fabric of your shirt, each muscle sharply defined with deep grooves separating your pectorals. When you flex, they pulse with impressive energy, demanding attention.

Glancing down further, you see your abs becoming sculpted, each six-pack tile standing out with startling clarity. The definition is so sharp it looks almost carved, the ridges of your obliques flaring impressively. Your shoulders broaden, deltoids jutting out like armor plating, creating an imposing silhouette that radiates raw power.

And your quads—massive and powerful—now rival tree trunks in size, bulging impressively when you stand. Each muscle group is distinct, deep separations highlighting the effort you’ve put into leg day.

Your face becomes rugged and defined, with a strong jawline and prominent cheekbones framing an expression of confidence and intensity. Your eyes glint with fierce energy, reflecting your newfound strength, while a five o’clock shadow adds to your masculine appearance.

You stand there, a towering figure exuding raw power and intensity, every muscle exaggerated to a cartoonish degree, commanding attention and respect. You’ve become a living testament to the extremes of bodybuilding, showcasing both the allure of physical prowess and the commitment required to achieve such an extraordinary physique.

As you continue your workout, you start to notice a pungent odor lingering in the air. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you take a moment to sniff around, eventually burying your nose in your armpit. The realization hits—you’re the source of this overwhelming stench. At first, disgust washes over you, but then a grin creeps across your face. After all, real men sweat, and today you’ve really pushed yourself. The smell divides your thoughts, draining you of anything other than working out and fucking.

You dive back into your routine, cranking up the intensity. Each rep feels powerful as you lift, the weight pressing down but fueling your energy. You let out loud, determined grunts, each one echoing through the gym, a testament to your focus and strength.

You start to forget about your crush entirely; the gym becomes your arena. You throw yourself into the workout, muscles straining and bulging with every movement. Your voice rises above the clatter of weights, hollering encouragement to yourself, “Come on! You’ve got this!” The sound reverberates off the walls, drawing attention as you embody the essence of an alpha male, fully absorbed in the moment.

You notice the way your body responds to the challenge. Each squat, each lift, feels exhilarating, and the sweat drips down your brow, mixing with the scent that now seems oddly affirming. You flex your arms, feeling the biceps swell with every contraction, and let out a hearty laugh. You revel in the sheer power of your movements, forgetting everything else. Your focus sharpens, and you become a force of nature, driven by the primal urge to push your limits and prove your strength. This is your moment, and you’re owning it.

After an intense workout, you find yourself eager to linger your sweaty clothes. Your skin glistens with sweat, a sheen of moisture that seems to magnify the curves of your body. You can smell the intense musk wafting off your glistening body- the sheer volume of perspiration dripping down your chest and back is undeniable. Rivulets stream steadily over your defined pecs, abs and butt crack, leaving damp streaks on your taut, lean muscle.

As you lean forward, arching your back slightly, you release an earthy, obnoxious fart. The wet rippling sound echoes obscenely through the air as the hot gust rumbles out of your shapely rear end with authority. Your cheeks clap and jiggle from the force of it. "Hoooo weee, that one definitely was a rank one lordy!" you remark gleefully, giving a proud little wiggle.

You strut throughout the gym, feeling confident and self-assured. Your chiseled physique is on full display, muscles rippling beneath your tight shirt. You make sure to flex at just the right moments, drawing the eye to your impressive physique.

Every set of eyes in the room is drawn to you. Women of all ages and sizes can't help but stare, admiring your good looks and oozing charisma. You preen under their attention, reveling in the power you have over them.

As you walk by, you catch snippets of conversation from nearby gym-goers. "Did you see that guy? I'd totally fuck him." *"He's so hot, I bet he's great in bed." Their whispers follow you, a trail of lustful admiration in your wake. You saunter over to the free weights, determined to show off even more. You start doing bicep curls, grunting with each rep. Then you notice him. This pathetic faggot dude ogling you from across the room. He's been following your every move for months, and you finally caught onto him. You remember him coming up to you in the locker room a few weeks ago, trying to grind against you. But at the time, you brushed it off as another wannabe trying to get into your pants. Little did you know he would become obsessed with you and your sweaty fucking ass, stalking your every move in this place.

You continue on your routine, pushing weights and doing pullups as the faggot trails behind you. You catch glimpses of him peering over his shoulder at you, biting his lip in anticipation. It pisses you off, seeing someone so desperate for a piece of you. Why would they waste their time chasing something that's clearly out of reach? You finish up and head towards the treadmill to warm up for the next set of reps.

As you approach the treadmill, you spot a gorgeous blonde woman running on it. Her toned legs are glistening with sweat, and her sports bra clings tightly to her ample breasts. You can't help but stare at her jiggling tits as she runs, imagining how soft and supple they must feel. She catches you eyeing her and flashes you a coy smile, arching her back slightly to accentuate her curves. You feel your cock stir in your shorts at the sight of her. She's just too fucking hot.

Unable to resist, you saunter over to her, your eyes never leaving her body. "Hey there," you say with a smirk. "Love watching yourself run?" She turns to face you, her cheeks flushed and chest heaving. "Mmm, maybe you should join me," she purrs, giving me a once-over. You step closer, reaching out to grab her ass and give it a firm squeeze. "Yeah, this'll do" you say with a smirk.

[chesterfieldblossom]

"AMERICAN WEDDING"

Arthur Morgan x Reader (1k words) "Well you can have my mustang / That's all I've got in my name"

SUMMARY | Arthur and you had been in a discreet relationship, but everyone on the camp knew your commitment. But of course, he wanted to make a bit more official. NOTES | It's really short, like just and idea I had on my notes when I was listening American Wedding by Frank Ocean. But I hope y'all enjoy. Also, dividers by @cafekitsune WARNINGS/TAGS | Oneshot, fluff, wedding proposal, f!reader RATING | Teen

"Well, you can have my Mustang." He drawled, voice low and quiet, as though he didn’t want to disturb the night. "That's all I got in my name."

You glanced up at him, the moonlight casting faint shadows across his face, highlighting the lines of weariness that came with the life he led. His eyes, usually hard and distant, were softer now, vulnerable even. Arthur Morgan was not a man who gave easily, and yet, here he was, offering you what little he had—his horse, his loyalty, his heart.

You had thought about marriage before—when you were younger, when life seemed simpler and oblivious. But the image had always been different: a small church, family gathered, maybe even a white dress. Not this—lying on a dusty cot, surrounded by the wilderness, with Arthur Morgan of all people. But that was the thing about life, wasn’t it? It never turned out quite like you imagined.

"Arthur..." You whispered, unsure of how to respond. The weight of his words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. He wasn’t just talking about his Mustang. This was Arthur’s way of saying everything—his past, his future, his soul. You could feel his uncertainty, the tension in the way his fingers hovered slightly above you bare arm, as if he was waiting for you to make a move, to push him away, to tell him no.

But you didn’t want to. God, you would be out of your damn mind if you say no.

You reached up, placing your hand on his, stilling his gentle caress. His hand was large, warm, and rough from years of hard work. It grounded you, made you feel safe in this world of chaos. "I don’t need a Mustang, Arthur." You murmured, thumb tracing circles on the back of his hand. "I need you."

His breath hitched almost imperceptibly, and for a moment, no one spoke. You could feel his heartbeat, strong and steady, a reminder of the man beneath the outlaw. You could see the boy in he for the first time, a glimpse of your children. You wondered if he ever imagined this for himself, or if he thought he was too far gone for something like love, like commitment.

"I ain’t got much to offer." he finally said, voice hushed, like he was scared the words might break something between you. "Ain’t never been good at... well, any of this. You know that."

You smiled softly, shifting closer to him. "You’re enough, Arthur. Just you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted."

He didn’t speak for a while, just stared at you, as if he were trying to make sense of how someone could want him—just him. The world had not been kind to Arthur Morgan, and in many ways, it had hardened him. But beneath the roughness, the gruff words and guarded glances, there was a man who felt deeply, who cared more than he let on.

As if making a decision, Arthur suddenly shifted beside you, reaching into the pocket of his worn coat. You watched, curious, as he fumbled for a moment before pulling something out—a small, delicate ring. The band was thin, silver, and simple, with no extravagant jewels, but to you, it was the most beautiful thing in the world.

He held it out to you, almost sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. "Picked it up in town a while back." he admitted, eyes flicking up to meet yours. "Didn’t know if you’d... well, if you’d want it. Ain’t much, but it’s real silver."

Your breath caught in your throat, your heart swelling in your chest. The fact that Arthur had gone out of his way to find a ring, something so traditional, so symbolic, meant more than words could express. You could see the way he was looking at you, searching for some kind of approval, some sign that this was right.

"Arthur..." You whispered, the voice breaking slightly. "It’s beautiful."

Without another word, he took your left hand in his, his touch gentle but sure. Slowly, almost reverently, he slid the ring onto your finger. It fit snugly, as though it had been made for you, and the cool metal sent a shiver through your skin. The moment felt timeless, as if you were the only two people in the world, surrounded by the quiet wilderness and the faint glow of the stars.

"There." he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "Now it’s official, I guess."

You couldn’t help but smile, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. This was not the wedding you had once imagined, but in every way that mattered, it was better. Arthur Morgan was yours, and you was his, bound not by law or tradition, but by something deeper—something unbreakable.

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his, the noses brushing, breaths mingling in the cool night air. "I love you, Arthur Morgan." You whispered, the voice thick with emotion. "More than anything."

He closed his eyes, his arms wrapping around you as he pulled you close, his lips pressing softly to your temple. "I love you too." he murmured, the words coming out rough, like they were foreign to him. But they were real, and that’s all that mattered.

As you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing, you looked down at the ring now glinting on your finger. It was simple, yes, but it was yours. Arthur leaned forward, lifting your chin to gave you a kiss. You happily returned, your bodies shifting closer as he embrace you and the lips moved together.

"But Jesus Christ don't break my heart." He whispered. The warm breath brushed on your lips, making you want to kiss him again.

"This wedding ring won't ever wipe off." You promised to him, whispering back.

[peachsukii]

₊✩‧₊ ⎯ denial is all that I've known

content // bakugo x fem!reader. emotional comfort; 20 somethings. mentions of death (of a family member). grief is weird. soft bakugo being there for you. not proof read.

You'd had an aching feeling in your chest throughout the day, but couldn't give it any proper meaning. Nothing was wrong - work went fine, the sun was shining...but that anxiety didn't lift from your shoulders. Something was in the air, it was only a matter of time before the reasoning slapped you in the face. Your intuition was never wrong about this kind of thing, much to your dismay.

Then came the text, 6:57pm. A fucking text, of all things.

"Hi honey. So sorry to text you this, but your uncle has passed away. Not much else known right now, but I'll let you know. Love you."

No, you read that wrong. That's not true...it can't be true. Someone must have the wrong number. A poor attempt to convince yourself when your eyes drift up to the contact name, painfully reminding you that it's your mother and not some stranger mistakenly informing you of a family death. It feels like hours pass while staring at your phone screen, the words beginning to intermingle with each other and become gibberish through hazy vision. When you come to, and somewhat accept that this is in fact real, your eyes gravitate to the time. It's only 7:05pm - he's still at the agency. If you hurry, you'll catch him in time.

You don't remember lacing up your sneakers or throwing on a hoodie before bolting from your apartment complex, storming out into the busy city street toward the office. Did you even put the dinner you reheated back in the fridge? It's all a blur, too engrossed on heading toward the one person you knew would catch you before you fell in too deep.

Rounding the corner of the final block - you stopped counting how many you'd sprinted through - and the agency skyscraper was in your sights. It's faint, but the glow to Bakugo's office is visible from the side of the building. When did you memorize its placement from outside? You don't wait to catch your breath or finish your thought, you can't stop now. If you do, you'll collapse on this dirty sidewalk around strangers, frozen in time and left alone with your heartache.

The security guard sees you racing toward the entrance, recognizing you with a wave before stepping out of your way, taken aback by the gust of wind that follows you as you zoom inside. There's no time for the elevator, running past the set and bursting through the metal door to the stairwell. Swinging off the landing to each floor, skipping steps and pulling yourself up by the railing has you reaching the fourth floor in no time at all, hurrying through the second metal door with a loud bang. When you skid to a halt outside of Bakugo's office door, it swings open before you get a chance to knock.

"The hell?" he speaks aloud, confusion written all over his face as he watches you pant frantically, a pitiful attempt to catch your breath. "Did you fuckin' run here?"

The dread starts to sink in, an anchor dragging you into that abyss of affliction you were trying to avoid. The panic creeps up your spine, the inevitable breakdown approaching - time's up. Breathing suddenly feels foreign, your limbs trembling with the stress of your run as it starts to catch up to you. You barely notice Bakugo move and gently guide you by the shoulders into his office, shutting the door behind him quietly.

"Hey," he mutters lowly while grabbing your wrist to get your attention. "What's goin' on? Y'haven't said a word, you're scarin' me."

Shit, you haven't said anything? Did he try to have a conversation that you don't even remember?

"Y/N," He crouches down to be eye level, forcing you to look at him when he grabs your chin. "Answer me, what's wrong?"

Words unexpectedly fail you when you try to speak, a head full of white noise too distracting to properly find what you want to say. Bakugo's head tilts with worry, brows creased and the train of thought behind his eyes apparent, desperate to find a way to get you to talk through your state of shock.

"Did somethin' happen?" Bakugo pauses to evaluate whether or not you're hurt. "Y'don't look injured. Ya gotta tell me so I can help."

It comes out of nowhere, like bile rising in your throat, when you finally blurt out "My uncle died."

His shoulders deflate, the breath he was holding exhaled in one swift huff. "So instead of callin' me to come over, you barreled over here like a bat outta hell?"

All you can do is nod in response, hot tears beginning to spill out of the corners of your eyes, resolve officially broken.

"...wasn't thinking straight," you choke out, barely audible. "I need you, Katsuki."

The final syllable of his name hardly has the time to leave your lips before he's pulling on your wrist, letting go of your chin and awkwardly tugging you into him as he stands to his full height in the same motion. The warmth of his embrace floods over you, strong arms caging you solidly against his chest, shielding you from any further harm and letting you unwind - to grieve. You wouldn't be here if you could handle this on your own, and he knows that.

"Idiot," Bakugo jokes before squeezing you tighter when he hears you hiccup between sobs. "I can blast over to your place faster than your attempt at an Olympic sprint."

Everything pours out of you, all the tension, denial, hurt and sorrow welling inside of you on full display for him to see. One of his hands threads through your hair, cradling the back of your head lovingly.

"Y’know that you could call me once an hour for a whole night for an entire week and I wouldn’t give a damn about losing sleep if it meant you’d feel better. As long as I'm around, I'll never let ya cry alone, alright? That's a damn promise."

The material of Bakugo’s shirt balls in your fists when your grip tightens, the only response you can provide is to hold on to him for dear life.

“S’okay, just let it out. I got’cha.”

And you do, staining his shirt with tears and snot until you’re too tired to cry any longer. You’re not sure how long the two of you stand in the darkness of Bakugo’s office. The thrumming of his heartbeat soothes your nerves, feeling yourself relax as the rhythm replaces the static in your head.

“Thank you.”

⇢  bkg & all tags // @slayfics @maddietries @starieqq 

@liluvtojineteyam @jays-adventure3 @simp-plague

@napbatata @Yoyolovesdaiki @catsoupki

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@hayatoseyepatch @awkwardchick87 @stunies @sakufilm

⇢ network; @pixelcafe-network

[nino-rox]

ADDICTED | BYEON WOO SEOK X MALE READER | M.A

Content Warning : Sexual themes, Top Wooseok and Bottom Male Reader, Angst, Mature, Use of Drugs (Marijuana), Trigger Warning - emotional /mental abuse, college AU.

Disclaimer : This is a Fan-fiction story written for entertainment purposes only, no part of the story implies or affirms anything regarding real world events or individuals. Please be of the appropriate age ( i.e, Adult as per your country’s stipulations and regulations) before interacting with this post

I woke up feeling cold and lonely in our bed.

When I opened my eyes and saw the empty side of the bed where Woo Seok was supposed to be sleeping I remembered last night and how he just left.

I turned to the side and stared at the empty space where his face would usually rest. It felt so lonely, I almost wanted to cry. I reached over to his side of the bed and touched his pillow, hugging it to my chest and trying to catch any last lingering scent of him.

The scent of him comforted me as I sat in silence for a while, hugging his pillow close.

After a while I got out of bed, I felt so drained, both mentally and physically.

I had hoped last night was just a dream. That maybe he was still here somewhere.

I walked into the kitchen, hoping he'd be there with breakfast and his charming smile. I hoped he would greet me with his arms wide open and tell me he was sorry and that everything was going to be okay. But there was no one in the kitchen. Just an empty table and a lonely chair.

It made me sad. I thought we were finally getting better. That maybe things were looking up for us. We had been fighting a lot lately and things between us had been really rocky. Last night was the last straw for me. I had decided when he get’s back….if…. He gets back…. I need a break.

We hadn't gone on a proper date in months. It seemed like all he wanted to do was stay home, sit on the couch and drink. I tried talking to him about it but he kept avoiding it. I tried bringing up the topic, but every time we would end up in another fight.

We were fighting over such small things lately, things that never used to be a problem, over a towel on the bed, over lights, food, sex, everything.

I couldn’t take it anymore, it felt like we were falling apart and no matter what I did he wouldn't talk to me, he was shutting me out and I was sick of it.

"Why are you making a big deal out of this? Why don't you go out with your stupid friends!" He yelled.

"Because I want to spend time with you!"

“ I can’t with you right now. I need a fucking break. I am so sick and tired of this! Just go, please! I need some fucking air. I am sick of being in this house, with you, all day long. I need to clear my mind. Please just leave me alone." He said and walked away.

"Wait, Wooseok." I ran after him, grabbing him by the arm and turning him around to face me.

"I don't want to be in this house alone right now, if you walk out right now, I WILL hold it against you…I mean it."

He looked at me and for a second I saw a glimpse of the old him. My sweet and kind Woo. He was there. Behind those dark eyes, I saw the same man that I fell in love with. The man that brought me coffee in the morning, and made me laugh so hard, I could barely breathe. Always hung out with me in every class break. The man that always asked how my day was and would bring me a single flower just because. He was there, I knew it.

But as soon as the glimmer came, it disappeared and all that was left was anger and darkness.

"Let go of me."

"NO, Woo Seok, I will NOT let go. Please, talk to me, what's wrong, what is bothering you?"

"You. You are bothering me." He said and snatched his arm from my grasp, walking out and slamming the door behind him.

I was snapped back to reality, realizing that the last words we had exchanged were hateful ones.

I looked down at my hands, the hands that were holding him, and realized I was still clutching his pillow.

I sighed, dropping the pillow to the floor, getting into the bathroom for a shower.

I had to stop thinking about it. It was all in the past, and right now I had a day off from school and no plans...not any more … at least.

I needed to distract myself, I quickly showered, putting on my favorite outfit, the one that I had picked for the date that wasn't going to happen and headed out the door. If he didn’t wanna go to the beach … FINE, I can go.

The sun was setting as I got to the beach, there were a lot of people…and couples… enjoying the weather and the ocean view. It was a beautiful place. The waves crashed onto the shore and the sound was like music to my ears. It calmed me, and made me feel free and happy and since this day is such a bust, I might as well try and enjoy this by getting high.

I walked around a little as the sky grew slightly darker, finding a good spot, laying my towel on the sand, putting my bag and stuff next to me, before lighting up. I was taking in the scenery, the sky was growing darker and the beach was almost empty, most people were leaving, and as the smoke was leaving my lungs, I was already feeling lighter and happier excited about the high to come which would make me forget about all the drama - it was also kinda cold, pretty cold.

As I took another large drag from the joint, I felt the high starting, I was more “aware” of myself and my surroundings, I felt at ease, and it felt like i had let out a breath i dint know i was holding in. Suddenly the stress of the situation began to reduce as my body felt lighter, more fluid and ‘fun’.

I was lost in the sensations of the high, I put on some music, took off my t-shirt and laid down, shut my eyes for a moment, getting comfy in my plush soft blanket.

Suddenly I heard a chuckle, a chuckle full of snark.

"Well, that's certainly a sight, I guess your dates are more fun without me"

I opened my eyes, and was met with his.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" I mumbled closing my eyes immediately, not wanting to accept that this was happening.

"Nice way to greet your boyfriend" he replied, and snatched the joint from my hand, taking a long drag.

"You can't just show up here like that, we're supposed to be taking a break, remember? You didn't want me, you made that very clear. I don't have to put up with this, fuck off. Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of"

"Aww Ouchie. That hurt." He said tauntingly, and then continued, "you look really good in those shorts, you know"

"Fuck off, Wooseok" I replied, sitting up and reaching for the joint, which he immediately raised above his head, out of reach from my height, as he chuckled.

His playful and casual mood was starting to throw me into a rage, why was he acting like nothing was wrong? After everything he said? Why was he now fucking with your high when you weren’t even dating anymore?

"You can't just leave and come back, whenever the fuck you feel like it."

"Watch me" He replied, taking another drag, and smiling.

"What's gotten into you? Are you drunk or something?"

"No" He laughed and handed the joint back to you - you didn’t accept it from him.

"Why are you acting like nothing's wrong, like you didn't walk out last night? Like you didn't tell me, and I quote "I am sick and tired of you"

"Oh come on, don't be a bitch!"

"Don't call me a bitch, Wooseok."

“You taking a hit or no?? It’s getting wasted over here. "

"Are you actually fucking with me right now???"

"Okay fine…Don't want it, you don't get it.." He said taking a massive drag and putting out the joint with his foot.

I stood up angrily and yelled, "Are you crazy?! That was a perfectly good joint, you just wasted it!!"

Suddenly Wooseok roughly grabbed my waist pulling me closer as he harshly held my face with one hand keeping my mouth open - he immediately pressed his lips onto mine, shotgunning his last massive drag into your mouth.

One was breathing out pushing the smoke, while the other was taking it all in.

His lips were on mine, his tongue was inside of me. It was intense. I hated that I loved it.

The kiss felt heavy and intoxicating, Wooseok slowly pushing his body’s weight onto you, both getting on our knees, lips still intact.

Wooseok slowly pulled away from me and looked at me, his gaze was hungry.

He was so beautiful, the sunset illuminating his face, and his eyes. I loved his eyes, and his smile, and the way he looked at me.

My eyes were fixed on his as I tried to catch my breath, my mind feeling shocked, angry and very much seduced at the same time.

“Tell me that wasn’t a better hit than the joint,” He whispered into my ear, his breath warm and seductive as he smirked, his gaze locked with mine, not breaking eye contact for a second. I had missed his voice, and the way his lips brushed against my skin as he spoke. I missed the way he was looking at me, and how his touch set my entire body on fire. I missed him.

I tried to say something but the words wouldn't come out.

Loosening his grip on my face he slowly moved his hand down to my hip, gripping it, and slowly pushing his leg between my thighs, as he pushed me onto my back.

He towered over me - "Now, where were we?" He whispered again, his lips grazing mine and his breath hitting my face.

His lips were so close, it was driving me crazy. I didn't know if I should push him away or pull him closer, but what about everything he said? Did I forgive him just like that? Was I really this easy?

He leaned down and kissed me, softly at first, but quickly grew more heated and passionate, his tongue exploring my mouth. His hands roaming all over my body, pulling my hips closer, pushing his knee against my crotch.

My brain was screaming at me to push him off, but my body was betraying me, wanting his touch, and craving more - addicted - addicted to him.

He slowly started kissing down my neck, his hands caressing my chest, his thumb brushing against my nipple, making me moan. He smiled and started kissing my neck, sucking hard, biting me, making me whimper and moan.

My head was spinning, it was all too much, and not enough at the same time. At some point I just had a silent stream of tears, running down my cheeks as the emotions hit me.

"I missed this so much" Wooseok whispered, kissing his way down my chest, and biting and licking my nipples.

"So much."

- I didn’t react

"Please, let's go home, okay? Come on."

- No response

"Y/N, come on. Let's go home."

"Look, I'm sorry okay? Can we please go home and talk about this?"

"No, Wooseok, you had your chance, you said it yourself, I bother you, remember? You don't need to pretend like everything is okay."

"Baby, please. Don't be like that. I didn't mean it."

"Yes you did."

"No, baby, please, it’s getting dark can we just talk inside.”

“ baby, I just wanna go home, and talk. It's so cold, and it's getting late."

- I turned around laying on my other side, my back facing him.

He sighed and then got up, packing our things, and putting everything back into my bag.

He walked over, and reached out his hand for me.

"Let's go, it's getting late.”

-I refused his hand and got up on my own, brushing off the sand.

"Come on, let's go" He said again, his voice impatient, as he grabbed my wrist and tried to drag me along.

"Stop it!" I protested, but he was still dragging me.

"LET GO OF ME!"

- I yelled, and pulled my arm away from him.

He turned to look at me, a hint of anger flashing in his eyes.

"What the fuck is your problem?" He yelled.

"You're my problem. You keep hurting me and then acting like nothing's wrong!”

"It's not like you never hurt me!,” he shot back.

"When? When did I ever do that to you?"

"You didn’t even run behind me in the morning when I said we needed a Break, you didn’t even care! You couldn’t care less about fighting for this relationship!."

"OFCOURSE I CARE! Maybe I would've chased you if you didn't leave after yelling at me and telling me to leave you alone!, and as for FIGHTING for the relationship, ALL I HAVE DONE is fight for it! - Chase after you ??? For What ???? You and I NEVER make it fucking work, has anything we’ve had for so long even barely qualify as a relationship?,” I snapped back in rage, only realising what I had just said after his expression fell dark and cold. Before I could Tell him I would never mean that -

"JUST WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT Y/N” He shouted at me, his voice was harsh and his eyes were dark and cold, there was no trace of the Wooseok I had just been kissing.

I didn't respond, my heart was beating fast, and I felt like I couldn't breathe.

"WELL ?" He shouted again, stepping closer to me.

"W-what?"

"What do you want from me, hm? What can I possibly do to fix this? You are always complaining, about something, and nothing I ever do is good enough for you, it's never enough, and you're always mad at me, what the hell do you want from me?!

“ I JUST WANT YOU, OKAY !! I WANT YOUR LOVE AND ATTENTION AND PRESENCE I WANT YOU TO HOLD ME I WANT YOU TO BE THERE! “

I paused for a second and then continued, my voice cracking. - "And you weren't. You aren’t.

It was like I could see the person I love crumble, his expression changed and I saw his eyes start to water.

"Will you give me.." he hesitated for a moment, and then continued, his voice shaking.

"will you give me another chance?, Please."

- The last word came out almost like a whisper.

I didn't say anything. My eyes were filled with tears.

He stepped closer to me, his eyes fixed on mine.

"Please" He whispered.

"Just one more chance. Please."

-I still didn't say anything.

"Please, Baby."

-I nodded.

"Say it, say you'll give me another chance."

-He pleaded, his voice barely audible.

"I will"

-His expression changed.

-His eyes lit up as a smile spread across his face, tears still streaming.

"Thank you" He said, before wrapping his arms around my waist and burying his face in my shoulder.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, holding him tightly, my face pressed against his neck.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Y/N" He said, his voice shaking.

"it's… okay"

"no it's not. I was such an asshole to you. I'm so sorry"

"It's okay.”

"No, It's not. You don't deserve that. You deserve so much better than me. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. And I've been such an asshole."

"You have"

-He looked up at me, his eyes watery, and his expression full of regret.

"I'm sorry, Baby. I'm so sorry" He repeated.

-He hugged me tightly, his arms wrapped around my waist strongly, almost as if they were desperate to be embraced.

"I'm sorry too"

"you don't have to apologise, none of this was your fault. It was all mine. I fucked up." - “Let me make it up to you at home?” he asked smirking and grinning like an idiot while crying, which was honestly kinda cute.

"Okay, you can try, and the “I’m sorry sex” better be Earth Shattering,” - I added on, pouting…. as our lips collided.

PART 1 COMPLETE {Please Request For PART 2}

Author’s Note: Hey Everyone, This story was based on an anonymous request. This is the first time I’ve written such an argument scene in an informal/ non-academic way, so I really hope you guys like it. Please leave any feedback !!! It is always greatly appreciated. P.S - STORY IS NOT PROOF READ.

[winxanity-ii]

IN THE SILENCE

ship: inumaki x fem!reader warnings: non-explicit word count: 2.6k a/n: not me beefing with my sis and making comfort fics as a destressor

★·.·´🇯‌🇺‌🇯‌🇺‌🇹‌🇸‌🇺‌ 🇰‌🇦‌🇮‌🇸‌🇪‌🇳‌ 🇲‌🇦‌🇸‌🇹‌🇪‌🇷‌🇱‌🇮‌🇸‌🇹‌`·.·★

You couldn't breathe in that dorm room. Not with the way Jiro's words echoed in your mind like a twisted symphony of your worst fears. "You're overreacting, Y/N. It's not that big of a deal." Her voice had been sharp, cutting through your defenses like a blade.

It left you feeling raw, like your skin had been stripped away, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

So, you did the only thing you could think of—you stormed out, slamming the door behind you with a force that made the walls tremble. You didn't care who heard. Let them.

You needed air, space, something that didn't have her name written all over it.

The night air was cool against your heated skin as you wandered the campus grounds, aimlessly walking with no destination in mind. You just needed to move, to put as much distance between yourself and Jiro as possible.

Each step was a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating fog of doubt she’d wrapped around you.

Was she right? Were you just overreacting?

A part of you—a small, insistent voice at the back of your mind—whispered that maybe she was. Maybe you were just being sensitive, blowing things out of proportion. But another part of you, the part that had walked out of that room, screamed that she was wrong. That you were justified in your feelings.

But which one was real?

You stopped walking, realizing you'd reached the fountain in the center of campus. Its gentle splashing was almost hypnotic, the water sparkling under the soft glow of the nearby lampposts.

You took a seat on the edge, your legs feeling like they couldn't support you anymore.

For a moment, you just sat there, staring into the rippling water, trying to find some sort of clarity in the chaos of your thoughts.

A deep sigh escaped your lips, followed by a soft sniffle. You quickly wiped at your eyes with the back of your hand, frustrated that you were even crying in the first place. "Why am I like this?" you muttered to yourself, your voice barely more than a whisper. It was a question you'd asked yourself a thousand times before, and you still didn’t have an answer.

You tilted your head back, looking up at the sky. The night was clear, stars scattered across the inky blackness like diamonds. It was beautiful, but it didn’t bring you the peace you were hoping for.

Instead, it made you feel small, insignificant. Like your problems were nothing compared to the vastness of the universe. But that didn't make them hurt any less.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice when someone sat down next to you. It was only when you felt the slight shift in the bench that you glanced over, startled.

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t notice when someone sat down next to you. It was only when you felt the slight shift in the bench that you glanced over, startled.

A young man was sitting beside you, his presence somehow calm, almost comforting. He wore black sweats and a matching hoodie, the hood pushed down to reveal tousled, silver hair that caught the faint light from the lamppost nearby.

His face was partially obscured by a black mask that covered his mouth, but his eyes were clear, a soft lavender shade that seemed to shimmer under the night sky. They were soft, kind, with a hint of curiosity as he looked at you.

You stared at him for a moment, surprised by his sudden appearance. He didn't say anything, just gave you a small nod, as if acknowledging your presence but not wanting to intrude.

You looked away, back at the sky, feeling oddly self-conscious now that someone else was here.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there in silence, the only sound the gentle splashing of the fountain.

You wiped at your eyes again, trying to get rid of any evidence of your tears. The last thing you needed was a stranger seeing you like this. But you could still feel his eyes on you, not judging, just...observing.

It was like he was waiting, but you didn't know for what.

You took a deep breath, the cool night air filling your lungs, and let it out slowly.

The silence between you felt heavy, almost tangible, but not uncomfortable. It was like he was giving you the space you needed, but also letting you know that you weren't alone.

And somehow, that made you feel a little better.

The silence stretched on for several minutes, neither of you saying a word. It was almost surreal, sitting next to a stranger and finding comfort in the quiet presence of someone you didn't know.

But there was something grounding about it, like his calm was seeping into your chaos, soothing the turmoil you'd been drowning in all evening.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye. He hadn't moved, just sat there, looking up at the sky as if he were admiring the stars.

There was something about his stillness that made you feel like it was okay to just be. To not have to put on a brave face or force yourself to keep it together.

Then, after what felt like an eternity, he turned towards you. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sticky note pad and a pen. You watched as he quickly scribbled something down, his handwriting neat and precise, before peeling the note off and holding it out to you.

You hesitated for a moment before taking it, your fingers brushing against his for the briefest second. Your eyes skimmed over the words, and you felt something inside you twist painfully.

You okay?

It was such a simple question, but it shattered the fragile control you’d been holding onto. You stared at the note, the tears you’d fought so hard to keep at bay filling your eyes once more. You shook your head, feeling the weight of everything crash down on you all over again.

"No," you whispered, your voice barely audible. Then, before you knew it, the words started pouring out of you in a rush, as if his silent support had unlocked something inside you. "I don't know. Maybe she's right. Maybe I'm just… crazy or something."

You glanced at him, but he just looked back, his eyes soft, urging you to continue. So you did.

"In the past, I've always been told I was blunt or cold, you know? Like I didn't care about anyone's feelings. And yeah, I was like that, but I didn't know any better. I thought being honest meant being straightforward, even if it hurt people." You took a shaky breath, the words spilling out faster now, almost tripping over themselves. "But then I realized, I realized that my actions, my words—they affect people. So I worked on it. I tried to change, to be more empathetic, more understanding. And it was hard, but I did it. I really thought I did."

You felt the tears slipping down your cheeks, and you wiped them away angrily, frustrated with yourself for being so emotional. "But now... it's like... like it doesn't even matter. It's like karma or something, having to deal with someone like her. One moment, she's my best friend, and the next, it's like she hates me. She says I'm overreacting, that I'm being too sensitive, and maybe I am. But it just… it hurts, you know?"

You looked away, staring at the fountain again, the words still tumbling out. "It's like I can't win. No matter what I do, it's not enough. I try to be better, to do better, but it's like she's always there to remind me that I'm not. And I know she's my friend, but it feels like I'm dorming with a stranger. Someone who knows exactly how to push my buttons and make me feel like I'm the one who's messed up. Maybe I am messed up."

Your shoulders shook as you let out a bitter laugh, more tears streaming down your face. You didn't even try to stop them this time. "Maybe she's right, and I'm just crazy, just some messed-up person who doesn't deserve to be happy. I don't know."

You ran a hand through your hair, your fingers trembling as you tried to catch your breath. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling," you muttered, wiping at your eyes again. "You don't need to hear all this. You probably think I'm a mess."

But the figure didn't move, didn't look away. He just sat there, his eyes never leaving you, listening to every word like it was the most important thing in the world.

He didn't judge or try to tell you that you were wrong or right. He just let you talk, let you spill out all the things you'd been holding in for so long.

By the time you finished, you felt like you'd run a marathon. But there was also a strange sense of relief, like a million bricks had been lifted off your shoulders.

You took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling lighter than you had in weeks, maybe even months.

He reached into his pocket again, pulling out a small packet of tissues. He took one out and handed it to you silently, his eyes still on you, filled with understanding. You took it, your fingers brushing against his again, and mumbled a quiet, "Thanks," as you dabbed at your eyes, trying to clean up the mess you’d made of your face.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was back, but it was different now. It wasn't heavy or suffocating. This time it felt warm, almost like a soft blanket wrapping around your shoulders, comforting and safe.

You weren't sure what to say, or if you even needed to say anything at all. The tears had stopped, and with them, some of the ache in your chest had faded too.

You glanced at him again, wanting to express your gratitude, even though words felt inadequate for what he'd just given you—space to be yourself, without judgment.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice still shaky but sincere. "For… listening. I really needed that."

He tilted his head slightly, as if contemplating your words, then reached for his sticky note pad again. It took him only a moment to jot something down before he peeled the note off and handed it to you.

No big deal.

You let out a small, breathy laugh, the corners of your lips lifting as you read his message. It was so simple, yet it made your heart swell in your chest.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze. His eyes were kind, crinkling slightly at the edges as if he were smiling behind his mask. There was a warmth in them that made you feel seen, truly seen, in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

You stood up, feeling a little steadier on your feet now. The cool night air brushed against your skin, the fountain's gentle splashing filling the silence.

He stood up as well, and you found yourself looking up at him—way up.

You hadn't realized it before, but he was tall, much taller than you. You barely reached under his chin, your nose almost brushing against the soft fabric of his hoodie as you straightened.

Your eyes widened slightly as you took in the small detail, feeling oddly self-conscious about the height difference. You took a step back, clearing your throat, trying to find the right words to say goodbye. But before you could speak, he raised a hand slowly, hesitantly.

You froze, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched his movements with wide eyes.

His hand hovered above your head for a moment, as if he was debating whether or not to go through with it.

Then, ever so gently, he placed his hand on top of your head, his touch light and careful, like he was afraid you might break if he applied too much pressure. He gave your head a soft pat, his fingers brushing against your hair before pulling away.

A harsh blush filled your face, spreading from your cheeks to the tips of your ears. You stared up at him, stunned, your heart skipping a beat.

Here you were, standing in the middle of the campus at night, unable to see his face, yet feeling like he'd just done something incredibly intimate.

It was such a small gesture, but it felt like it meant everything.

You didn't know what to say, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. He just watched you, his eyes crinkling again with that invisible smile. There was a softness to his gaze, a gentleness that made your heart flutter in a way that was both confusing and strangely comforting.

"I—um, thank you," you stammered, your voice barely more than a whisper. You couldn't bring yourself to look away, not when his eyes were so warm, so steady. "For everything."

He just nodded, his shoulders rising and falling in a silent laugh, as if he found your flustered state amusing. He scribbled something quickly on his notepad and held it out to you.

You're welcome.

You took the note, your fingers trembling slightly as you read the words. They were simple, straightforward, but there was something about them that made your chest feel tight, like your heart was too big for your ribs to contain. You swallowed hard, looking up at him again.

"I—well, I should go," you said, your voice awkward and unsure. You took a step back, then another, your eyes still locked on his. He didn't move, just watched you with that same quiet expression, his eyes soft and unreadable. "I—um, goodnight."

You turned, your heart racing as you started to walk away, the cool night air feeling like a welcome balm against your flushed skin. You could still feel the warmth of his hand on your head, the gentle pressure lingering like a ghost of a touch.

You glanced back over your shoulder, unable to help yourself.

He was still standing there, his hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie, watching you with those steady, kind eyes. He lifted a hand in a small wave, his fingers curling in a silent goodbye.

You waved back, a shy smile tugging at your lips, before turning away again and heading towards your dorm.

Your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, your heart still fluttering like a trapped bird in your chest. You didn't even know his name, didn't know anything about him, but there was something about him that felt… different.

Like maybe, just maybe, things could be okay. Like maybe you weren't alone after all.

As you reached your dorm, you glanced down at the sticky notes in your hand, the words blurring slightly as tears filled your eyes again. But this time, they weren't tears of sadness. They were tears of something else, something warmer, softer.

Hope, maybe.

You smiled, a real smile, as you tucked the notes carefully into your pocket. Maybe tonight had been terrible, but it had ended with something good. Something unexpected.

And as you climbed the stairs to your room, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, you’d see him again.

And that thought, more than anything, made you feel like things might just turn out okay after all.

A/N: ignore me y'all, im on my period and in my feelings at the moment, just a little senstive. 😭 (p.s tell me why my sister and i made up by the time i finished writing this 💀)

[bitchesuntitled]

Broken Hearts Mended

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader, Joel Miller x F!Reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+ Minors, get out! Language(at this rate, just expect it. That's just me), Pregnancy, Dieter trying to fix his past, sad!Dieter, dad!Dieter, smut, pinv, oral(m!recieving), wedding crasher!Dieter, TIME TRAVEL, OFC

a/n: This is for the Roll-A-Trope Challenge by @burntheedges I got Time Travel! Never dabbled with that before but it was fun and sheesh, Kate- this is the longest story I've ever written! This could be considered a part two of Some Broken Hearts Never Mend but can be read as a standalone! The OFC is based off my bestie IRL @hessofather - thank you for being you, for helping me with the witchy stuff, and love ya bitch! Thank you @beefrobeefcal and @jay-zzle(for the moodboard &) for your eyes on this one! Love you both!

Masterlist||AO3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He’d been staring at the clock for an eternity or what felt like an eternity. Today was the day, the day Dieter’s been dreading since he found out. 

Today is your wedding day.

In typical Hollywood fashion, a friend of a friend let it slip when the wedding was. Saturday afternoon, 3 pm to be exact. Mark was supposed to be on standby to ensure Dieter stayed at home today and didn’t do something stupid, but what Mark didn’t expect was to be locked in the pantry with Dieter sitting outside.

“Dieter, come on man,” Mark pleaded, “Think about this before you do something dumb.”

“Would it really be that bad if I went?!”

“Yes,” Mark sighed, “Dieter, you need to let her go. If you go to that hotel all that will happen is you make a fool of yourself and embarrass her!”

“Embarrass her?!” Dieter scoffs, looking at the closed door with offense. “I got sober for fucks sake! For her and she didn’t even let me see my kid! Instead that bastard is playing daddy to my Lexi! My peanut!”

“Dieter!” Mark shouts, slamming his fists against the door, “Let me out and let’s talk face-to-face about this.”

“Sheesh Mark, calm down,” Dieter says, glancing at the clock, “If I go, maybe she’ll see me and remember how much she loved me. I gotta try right?”

“Dieter, please,” Mark sighs, “Don’t do this. It’s not a good idea.”

“I have to try, Mark.”

“Damn it, Dieter!”

More punches are being thrown at the pantry door as Dieter slowly backs away from it.

“If I don’t try now, I’m just going to spend the rest of my life wondering what if!” Dieter shouts, “Mark, you gotta understand that man.”

—

Dieter was able to bribe a waiter into letting him in through the kitchen, he had tried the front but the hotel staff quickly guided him right back through the front door. The place was gorgeous, decked in all navy blue, gold, and white, and the flower petals spread down the aisle he stood in front of. Joel is standing next to the officiant, fiddling with the gold cufflinks on his wrists. The bridal song began and everyone looked back at Dieter.

He stood there frozen, unsure of what to do until he heard the door behind him open, he turned slowly. There you were, standing before him in a gorgeous flowy white gown.

“Dieter?” You asked, confusion painted across your face before it turned into a silent rage.

“I- I need-“ he began, trying to think of what to say.

“Jesus Christ,” your father muttered under his breath before shouting for security.

“Wait-“ Dieter gasped, as two men in suits grabbed his arms pulling him towards the hall, “Please! Let me just ha-“

“Wait!,” you shout panicked, before clearing your throat, “Sorry everyone,” you announce, “Let me just take care of this real quick then we’ll be ready to get this wedding started.”

Dieter was dumbfounded. You were actually going to listen to him. You wanted to hear what he had to say. He knew it! He still had a chance. You let go of your dad’s arm and looped it around Dieter’s, leading him out into the hallway with a polite reassuring smile to your guests.

In another life, this would be the way it went. You in your gorgeous wedding dress, walking down an aisle on his arm, smiling politely to your guests before he whisked you away to ravish you the entire night. Once the doors closed, you stepped away from him clearing your throat.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing here?” You hiss, the rage in you tipping over its boiling point.

“I wanted to-“ he starts softly before you interrupt him again.

“Wanted what Dieter?!” You seethe, “Did you not feel it was enough when you showed up at my home? My work? Lexi’s fucking school?”

“I didn’t think-“ he winces, knowing immediately those are the wrong words with the laugh you let out.

“No Dieter, you didn’t fucking think,” you scoff, “You’ve spent the past six years not fucking thinking and it’s shown plenty!”

“Baby-“ Dieter tries again.

“Don’t you dare call me that!” You stop him, “Dieter, you need to leave. I’m marrying Joel and Lexi finally has a dad who wants her and loves her.”

“But I do love her,” Dieter says, tears blurring his vision, “That’s why I stayed away from you both. I love you both so much, I didn’t want you wrapped up in my shit and I’m trying to change!”

You shake your head with a sigh.

“You just have to give me another chance,” he whimpers, the tears steadily falling down his face.

“No,” you say quietly, “You’ve had enough chances.”

—

You were officially done with his shit and let him know he’d be hearing from your lawyers on Monday. His heart broken, his mind felt numb, and Dieter’s legs began to move. He felt like pins and needles were pricking all over his skin, trying to ignore the feeling, he began to speed up. He’d be fine as long as he kept moving. His chest felt like there was a weight on it, trying to catch his breath.

He needed to find somewhere with air conditioning, maybe it’s the heat finally getting to him. Standing outside a store called Vixen’s. Huh, he thought, a sex shop would be the perfect way to distract his mind. A dinging sound chimes as he enters the store.

“Good afternoon!” A cheery feminine voice calls out from the back, “I’ll be right with you.”

Dieter stood next to a counter, focusing on his breathing. The place smelled like sage, rose, and lavender. This was definitely not a sex shop. His hands held onto the counter in front of him as he closed his eyes and took in the sweet aroma of the shop. Whatever it was, it was working to help calm him down.

“Sir?” A feminine voice called out to him, “Ya alright?”

Dieter looked towards the voice to see a short woman with auburn hair standing next to a door that stated Employees Only. He gave a short nod, signaling he was okay. He just had to focus on his breathing.

“Fuck!” She gasped, flailing her hands in the air, “It’s you! C’mere!”

“Huh?” Dieter asked in confusion, trying to catch his breath.

“C’mere!” She said more sternly, motioning for him to follow her, “Been expectin’ you to show up any day now and you’re finally here!”

Dieter began to follow the stranger apprehensively down a hall, passing multiple doors, as she began to talk more.

“The names’ Willow Vixen. Now that you’re here, maybe I can finally stop using the rose.” She states, wrinkling her nose, “Not my favorite but that’s what the ball suggested for your arrival. Considering it doesn’t give me much of a time frame I figured fuck it and just started making sure it was around at all times.”

“Ball?” Dieter asks, his legs taking over, continuing to follow Willow until they meet a door that has her name on it, “I’m sorry but do I know you?”

“Not yet, Dieter,” Willow hums, grabbing a key ring from her belt loops, and unlocking the door, “When we get inside I’ll explain.”

Once she opened the door, he was hit with a powerful smell of sage and rosemary. She ushered him in, closing the door behind her.

“Sit,” she commanded, pointing to a table in the middle of the room.

He wasn’t sure what he was even doing here. Following a stranger into some back room of a store sounded like the beginnings of some ritual sacrifice and by the way her office was set up, it looked like it, too.

The room was dim before Willow fluttered about lighting candles while humming, beginning to shed more light on her space. He could see a table covered in an emerald green cloth with four chairs surrounding it, and a crystal ball sat upon a perch in the middle of it with dozens of candles surrounding it.

“So… uh,” Dieter hesitates, hands scrubbing through his hair. The fuck is he doing here? He should leave. Willow continues to hum while she lights more candles by a thick open book sitting on a desk, flipping through the pages before she stops.

“Ah-ha!” She announces with a joyous clap, “Would ya look at that! Found it on the first try.”

She looks up to see Dieter still standing by the door with a nervous energy about him.

“Gah damn it, Dieter,” she grumbles, approaching him, “Ain’t gonna hurt ya. I’m here to help ya. Now go on, sit,” Ushering him to the table, lightly patting him on the shoulders, “Let me just get a few more things ready before I truly start this process, alright?”

“Help me?” He asks, watching Willow move in the space around them. She grabbed a bottle and began spritzing it around the chair he sat in.

“Duh, I told ya,” Willow said with a raised eyebrow smirking, “Oh wait, maybe I didn’t? Did I?”

Dieter looked at her in bewilderment, continuing to watch as she placed the spray bottle of liquid beside him and grabbed incense instead, placing them in their holders and lit them.

“T- tell me what?” He asked nervously, placing his hands in his lap and beginning to fidget with his fingers.

“My apologies, sir.” Willow bows, “I am a witch! Well, kind of a-a witch. I’m a witch practicin’. My great great great great grandma was one and it kinda skipped a generation or two cause my folks decided we should follow Jesus instead. Ya in any sort of religion? I’ve been involved with… too many.”

Dieter shakes his head. Fuck, this is how it ends, he was right. She’s gonna sacrifice him.

“I’m spraying lavender right now to try and get your ass to calm down,” she states matter of factly picking the bottle up again, Dieter flinches when she sprays some directly onto his hair, “Your energy is thick with nerves. Now what was I sayin’?” She asked, stopping in place and staring at the table cloth.

“Oh yeah! Sorry, I have a disorder where my memory ain’t the best. Think Dory from Findin’ Nemo,” Willow smiles brightly, “I’m a witch and this here crystal ball-” she taps a finger against the clear ball in the middle of the table, “-showed me to be expectin’ ya.”

“Sh-showed you?” Dieter asks, cocking his head to the side with wide eyes.

“Yeah!” Willow exclaims, “Showed me you comin’ here, us doing some magic and then you fuckin’ off to whatever it is you’re tryin’ to change!”

“Wait,” Dieter stops, eyes widening, “What am I changing?”

“Beats me,” Willow shrugs, fanning the incense around before plopping down in the chair across from him, “Alls I know is I’m supposed to help ya get there.”

Dieter looks at her and then the ball in between them. It starts sparkling inside as the clear crystal becomes dense with a weird purple fog, swirling around the inside of the crystal.

“Oh shit! It’s doin’ the thing again!” Willow shrieks in excitement, bouncing in her chair, “I told ya the thing showed me what I needed to do! Maybe it’s trying to show you what you need to do.”

Dieter stares at the ball before the swirling fog reveals you lying in your shared bed years ago. He remembers this morning clear as day, it’s the morning before he went to that stupid party and relapsed.

“It’s her,” he chokes back a sob, “What kind of sick fucking trick is this?!”

“It’s not a trick!” Willow protests, “I’m tellin’ the truth! Just watch the damn thing!”

Dieter continues watching the fog swirl within the ball, seeing himself join you in bed. Dieter perks up as he watches himself undress you and begin worshiping you like the goddess you are. Willow clears her throat turning her head.

“Ope,” she murmurs, cheeks becoming flaming red, peering at the ceiling out of privacy, “Don’t think I’m supposed to watch this bit.”

Dieter is entranced, watching the two of you, reliving that entire day. Except in this version he never leaves the house, he stays home with you instead. That’s what he should have done, stay home and hang out with you instead of go to that stupid fucking party.

The purple fog disappears and the crystal becomes clear again, leaving Dieter even more confused.

“Wait!” He shouts, gripping the ball with both hands, “Come back! Show me more!”

“Now hold on just a damn minute,” Willow scolds, pushing his hands off the ball, “Don’t break my damn ball. It’s the only one I got.”

“But I want to see more,” Dieter lets out a pathetic whine, “How can I see more. Make it show me!” He demands.

“Not how it works, bub,” Willow huffs, “But, from the looks of it that’s where the ball wants me to send you.”

“S-s-send me?” Dieter stutters out with a scoff, “How are you gonna send me back to the happiest time of my life?”

“Time travel, duh,” Willow snorts, “The hell do you think you showed up here for?”

He looks at her with bewilderment. How the fuck is this girl supposed to help him go backwards in time?

“Now, now,” Willow says, clicking her tongue in annoyance, “I recognize that look. Ya don’t believe me,” she adds with a roll of her eyes, “I’ve got everything ready.”

She stands making her way to a small tea kettle, filling it with water from a jug before placing it on her desk beside the book. Willow moves through her office with a practiced ease, opening and closing cabinets, grabbing the things she’ll need for this ritual. Taking one last glance at the book on her desk before clearing her throat.

“Now, I’m gonna brew this tea for you to drink. It’s got some cloves, rosemary, garlic and cinnamon in it,” she explains, plunking and sprinkling the herbs in the kettle, “Oh shit!” She laughs, opening a desk drawer to pull out a small hot plate, “Ain’t gonna get very far without boilin’ it.”

Dieter watches as she softly hums, flitting about the room as the tea gets ready.

“Now, I got white sage and mullein burning already,” Willow explains pointing at each, “Helps with clarity.”

He nods, still confused and a little scared. He has no clue how this is supposed to actually work. Time travel isn’t real, this isn’t some movie like Back to the Future. Although, he thinks tilting his head, would be pretty cool to drive the DeLorean. His thoughts are interrupted by Willow chanting something over the tea right as the kettle lets out a shrill whistle. Willow pours the tea into a little cup bringing it over to the table, placing it in front of Dieter.

“Ain’t gonna lie to ya,” Willow grimaces, “Probably gonna be nasty as fuck with the herbs I had to use but it’s what the book said to use.”

“Probably not the worst thing I’ve ever ingested,” Dieter shrugs, “So how’s this work? Do I just drink it?”

Willow nods, “I said the spell, I have the scents going, all you have to do is keep an open mind,” she continues with a smile.

Dieter nods, staring at the cup. What’s the worst that could happen? His life is already fucked. At least he can say he tried if it doesn’t work, grabbing the cup and downing the drink. Willow was right- it’s rancid, he begins to cough placing the cup back on the table.

“Now what?” Dieter asks with a grimace, glancing at Willow.

“Now,” a grin spreads across her face, “We wait.”

- - -

The sun’s rays shone through the curtains causing Dieter to wince as he woke the next morning. How was he supposed to know if the ritual worked? Willow said they just had to wait. Wait for what though? Hearing a soft groan next to him he peeked one eye open at the sound, looking around he noticed this wasn’t his room. Well, more so not his room anymore. The soft yellow walls and white curtains had all been replaced after you left with dark grays.

Glancing next to him, he felt like his heart stopped. There you were, snoring softly next to him. Maybe he was dreaming and his mind decided to torture him, it wouldn’t be the first time it had happened but then you reached for him. Your hand laying on his chest above his heart. Dieter didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, shout with joy or all three at the same time. His palm reaches out, gently touching your face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers to your sleeping form as he rubs the apple of your cheek with his thumb, “I was such a fucking idiot.”

You crinkle your nose and let out a huff as you sleep. A grin plastered across his face, he can’t believe it actually worked. If he ever sees Willow again he’s going to have to thank her. She may not know what for, with traveling back in time, but he’ll thank her anyway. 

“You’re staring,” you let out a sleepy grumble.

“Can’t help it,” Dieter whispers, grinning like an idiot. You open an eye to look at him, raising your brows.

“Why are we whispering?” You giggle, scooting closer to lay your head on his chest, listening to the thump of his heartbeat.

Dieter takes a deep breath into your hair, shrugging his shoulders, wrapping his arms around you and holding you tight. Afraid if he loosens his grip you’ll be gone again. His hands begin to roam under your shirt, feeling the softness of your skin, the roundness of your belly. You’re still pregnant, grinning to himself as he sits up and moves you to lay on your back, rubbing his hands down to your hips. You’d always complained of them hurting with the added weight of Peanut, their little Lexi who would be coming into this world.

“Mmm,” you let out a soft moan, as his hands gingerly massage your hips, your fingers digging into his thigh, “Dieter.”

He couldn’t stop smiling, unable to believe this is actually happening again. Being with you, being back in your shared home, being here during the happiest time of his life. Dieter leans over your belly, pulling up your shirt to expose your bump, placing a soft kiss there.

“I love you,” he breathes out, his voice cracking before trying to get a grip on his emotions. 

“Babe?” You ask, concern lacing your voice as you reach for him, “What’s wrong?”

“Missed you,” he says, kissing your bump again, “Both of you.”

“Babe,” you laugh, “All we did was go to sleep.”

“Yeah,” Dieter huffs, rolling his eyes, “Just went to sleep,” he hums, lifting your shirt more to uncover your breasts, his lips placing a trail of open mouthed kisses until he meets one of your nipples, sucking it into his mouth. You let out a soft hiss as your fingers tangle in the soft waves of his hair. There’s one thing Dieter knows he can’t fuck up, sex. He’ll figure the rest out later.

You moan as he spends equal time on each of your breasts, sliding a hand down your front into your underwear. Dieter lets out a groan when he feels the wetness already collected there. He needs this, to you it was yesterday, to him it’s been six years since he’s felt you around his cock.

“I need you,” Dieter grunts, pushing you on your side, flopping down behind you and pushing his boxers down. His stiff member pushing into your ass.

“Jesus, Dee,” you giggle as he quickly pushes your underwear down enough to get to your core, “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please don’t,” he whispers into your neck, slipping his length between your folds, coating himself in your arousal. Dieter grips his dick, slowly pushing into you, simultaneous moans spilling from both of you.

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, throwing your head back against his shoulder, “So fucking big.”

Dieter pants, feeling your walls constrict around him, stopping himself when he’s fully sheathed inside of you. He doesn’t want this to end before it’s even begun.

“Oh god,” he whimpers, grabbing your hand, lacing your fingers together, “Missed this.”

“Dieter,” you pant, hips squirming against him, “I need you to move, baby.”

He nods against your head, slowly pulling out, his tongue laving against your pulse point as he sharply pushes back in.

“Fuck,” you cry out, gripping his hand tighter. He knows it’s your favorite so he keeps the same rhythm, pulling out slowly before plunging back in. He can’t stop the words flowing from his mouth as he thrusts into you. His pace grows quicker as he speaks.

“Please don’t leave me,”

“I need you,”

“I love you,”

“I won’t fuck up again,”

“I promise,”

“I love you.”

Every phrase punctuated with a sharp thrust into your wet heat, producing a moan from your lips.

“Dieter,” you moan, “I’m gonna come, baby, I’m gonna-“

Dieter can feel the fluttering of your walls, gripping you tighter he moves faster, unable to control himself any longer.

“Fuck,” Dieter groans, “Look at me, baby.”

Your head lolling against his shoulder as his hips snap into you, he grips your face turning you to face him. Slotting his lips over yours, smothering your cries as your orgasm rips through you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Dieter grunts, grinding his hips into you as your walls constrict around him, warm ropes of his come painting your insides. He kisses you softly while both of you try to catch your breath.

“You okay?” You ask, eyes gazing up at him.

Dieter nods, keeping his arms wrapped around you.

“Bad dream,” he murmurs into your hair.

“I’m sorry babe,” you give him a sympathetic smile, giving him a quick kiss before moving off of him with a hiss, “Wanna go look at stuff for the nursery?”

“Hmm,” Dieter hums, wrapping his arms around you again before you can leave the bed, “Let’s stay in bed all day.”

“We just woke up,” you squeak out with a giggle, as he pulls you back against him, “Already need a nap?”

“After that workout?” He laughs, kissing your neck, “Uh… yeah!”

Dieter’s eyelids are heavy. He felt calm, more at peace than he has been for years, having you back in arms, the comforting weight of you next to him. The hint of your perfume surrounding him, causing him to quickly drift back to sleep.

- - -

“Dieter wake up!” Mark shouts, “Time to go.”

Dieter jumps, how long had he been asleep? The room is dark as Mark flings the gray curtains open allowing the sun to burst in.

“What the fuck?” Dieter groans, covering his face with the pillow next to him, blocking the sun from his eyes. His sleep-addled brain hasn’t registered what’s happened.

“Come on, man,” Mark says more sternly, grabbing the covers to pull off of Dieter, “Gotta get Peanut.”

“Peanut?” Dieter asks, flipping the pillow off his face, sitting up taking in his surroundings, “No, no, no. This isn’t right.”

He looks around at the gray bedding, the curtains, the walls. Where’s your house? He was just there, wasn’t he? Was it just a dream after all?

“Yes. Peanut,” Mark says, giving him a confused look, “Lexi, Your daughter.”

“I know who Peanut is, Mark.” Dieter snaps, “But she won’t let me see her.”

“Dieter,” Mark scolds, “Do not tell me you've been using again.”

“What? No!”

“You’ve had your daughter every other week for years now.” Mark explains, “Are you sure you're not using anything?”

“You mean, I have custody?” Dieter asks, beginning to choke up, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. 

Whatever Willow did, it worked, well kind of. If Dieter had some sort of custody of Lexi that means he must have changed something going back in time.

“I gotta go see Willow.”

“Willow?” Mark asks, shaking his head, “Dieter, you don’t have time to go on some wild goose chase looking for whoever it is you’re talking about.”

Dieter rushes out of bed, grabbing random clothes he finds throughout his room to throw on, running down the stairs to find his crocs.

“Dieter!” Mark shouts after him.

“I gotta fix it, Mark,” Dieter yells back, finding his car keys, and opening the front door, “I gotta fix it!”

—

“Willow!” Dieter bellows, bursting into Vixen’s, “It worked! It kind of worked!”

He hears a crash a couple aisles over and a gah-damnit!, before Willow appears at the front of the shop.

“The hell you comin’ in here yellin’ about?” Willow asks, rubbing the top of her head, “You made me drop a jar of Dragon’s blood on my damn head. I do not need any more feminine power right now!”

“Sorry,” Dieter chuckles, “I think we need to do the ritual again. I have custody!” 

“Custody?” Willow asks, confused.

“Custody of my kid, Willow!” Dieter says, gripping her shoulders giving her a little shake, “All I did was fall asleep, had a crazy vivid sex dream about my girl and now I have custody! I’ve never even met my daughter!”

“Alright, alright, alright,” Willow says, wiggling out of his grip, “Don’t touch me and I don’t wanna hear about your weird sex dreams but come on back.”

He follows her through the dark hall, to her office, the white sage and mullein is lit, the tea is brewed while Willow chants the magic words. He chugs it again. The warm liquid tingled in his throat as it went down.

“Not as bad the second time,” he sputters out through a cough, “Should you make extra so I can take it home?”

“Not how it works,” Willow chuckles, “Gonna have to come see me. Door will always be open.”

“I don’t understand how this is working at all,” Dieter admits, “All I did was go to sleep?”

“Maybe in your sleep is when you’re traveling,” Willow shrugs, “I won’t lie, I’m not sure how it works either. Remember, I’m new at this.”

—

Dieter leaves Vixen’s, feeling on top of the world as he makes his way to your house. He cannot believe he’s about to see his kid for the first time, well maybe not the first time but it is for this Dieter. He pulls up to the address he found saved into his phone under your name, taking a deep breath before getting out of his car.

He makes his way to the front door. It’s a different house than the last time he showed up, hoping you’d forgive him for running off and taking forever to get his shit together. Taking a deep breath he presses the doorbell, hearing the chime inside.

“Daddy!” He hears screeched from behind the door before it opens. A little girl looks up at him with wide brown eyes and soft curls.

“You came to get me!” She exclaims, grabbing his hand with both of her little ones and pulling him through the entrance.

“Y-yeah, I did,” Dieter murmurs, unable to stop staring at the back of her head. Her hair bounces with every step she takes as she continues babbling at him about something.

“Hey Dieter,” you smile at him from the couch with a book in your hand, “She’s been super excited for you to get her this week. Thank you again for keeping her an extra week.”

“Extra week?”

“Please don’t tell me you forgot,” you groan, “Dee, you promised me you wouldn’t forget! This is super important! Joel’s taking me to meet his family.”

“Joel?” Dieter asks, clenching his jaw, fingers flexing of his free hand against his thigh. Of course, Joel is still present. 

You study his face, taking in the tension rolling off him in waves, putting your book down and getting off the couch.

“Peanut, baby,” you say in a sweet tone, “Why don’t you go upstairs and get your stuff ready so you can go have fun at Daddy’s?”

“Okay,” she chirps, climbing the steps to the second floor. Leaving the two of you alone.

“Dee?” You ask, approaching him, “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” Dieter lies with a nod of his head, “Just forgot you have plans next week.”

“Look,” you start, gripping his hand, “I know this whole thing is weird for you but I know one day you’re going to find someone to love,” Dieter’s thumb begins to rub against your fingers softly, noting the absence of a ring on your hand.

“You don’t get it,” Dieter scoffs, shaking his head, “It’s you. I want to be with you.”

“We tried Dieter,” you say, giving him a sympathetic smile, “We just aren’t meant to be.”

- - -

When he wakes next, Dieter is blinded by the brightness of the room, closing his eyes again, not ready to get up.

“Daddy,” a little voice says, poking his cheek with tiny fingers.

He groans feeling a weight on top of his chest. He can hear you humming softly downstairs in the kitchen, little fingers continue poking at his face trying to wake him.

“Peanut,” he chuckles, “Why are you poking my face?”

“Time to wake up!” She announces, standing up on chunky legs before plopping her butt back down. Dieter lets out a grunt before opening his eyes, spotting the soft yellow walls of the room. He can’t stop the smile forming on his face. He’s back to where he wants to be, this timeline seeming to be much better than the present.

“Come here,” Dieter playfully growls, tickling Lexi’s sides. Her high pitched squeals echoing throughout the house.

“Breakfast is ready!”

“Hear that Peanut?!” Dieter asks enthusiastically, “Momma made breakfast!”

“Breakfast!” Lexi shouts, throwing her arms up in the air, “I hungry!”

Dieter scoops her up as he gets out of bed, carrying the toddler with him down the stairs to the kitchen.

“Morning,” you hum, smiling at both of them, “The contractor was supposed to be here earlier but he overslept so said he’d be by soon.”

“Oh?” Dieter asks, setting Lexi down into her booster seat as if he’s done this every day, “Who’d we hire again?”

“Dieter, I swear,” you laugh, rolling your eyes, “You’d be so lost without me.”

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, kissing the side of your head as he grabs the plates of food you had set out, giving one to Lexi and sitting down next to her to eat his own.

“It’s Miller Bros,” you huff, “And no, they’re not like the Mario Brothers from Nintendo,” you add after seeing Dieter’s head perk up. You always were good about knowing what was on his mind.

“So, what’s the plan for today?” Dieter asks, stabbing his fork into the eggs, “Besides the contractor coming, I mean.”

“I don’t know,” you say, shrugging. The rest of the meal went on, the scraping of silverware against plates and random chatter from Lexi the only things to be heard. It was eerie how quiet you were, Dieter stared at you as you scrolled mindlessly on your phone. He can’t pinpoint what’s going on but he feels there is something different here. Lexi finishes her breakfast, scooting off her booster and running off to watch TV.

“Is everything okay?” Dieter asks, fidgeting with the fork in his hand, he can’t risk losing you but he needs to know the answer.

“No,” you admit quietly, “I just- I don’t know what to do anymore Dee.”

“What do you m-“ he tries, the doorbell chiming interrupting his sentence.

“That must be the contractor,” you sigh, “Wanna start the dishes while I get the door?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dieter nods, “Sure.”

He gathers the dishes, rinsing each item before putting them in the dishwasher, hearing you speak with the contractor.

“I’m so sorry ma’am,” the contractor says with a gruffness in his voice, “Would’a been here earlier but my idiot brother wrote the time down wrong.”

“No worries,” you reply in a cheery tone, “You deserve the extra sleep, you work so hard.”

Dieter hears a deep chuckle from the man and a thank you, you’re too kind darlin’. It makes his stomach twist, he knows who this is. Joel fucking Miller. Can he not escape this guy?

Dieter slams the dishwasher closed, pacing throughout the kitchen. In his present time, the man is there. Now in his supposed past the man shows up too?! He wishes he could call Willow but a quick google search shows that Vixen’s doesn’t exist just yet, groaning as he tosses his phone onto the counter. What is he supposed to do?

He sees through the doorway how you look at Joel, the sparkle in your eyes, the way you seem almost bashful as Joel continues to talk about the most mundane things. Dieter can’t help the idea that’s popped into his head as he makes his way to the couch, sitting with your shared daughter as she watches cartoons.

It wouldn’t be the craziest thing he suggested, he’s Dieter Bravo. He’s definitely said worse things in interviews. He continues watching the two of you, the slight smirk on Joel’s face, the shy smile gracing your own.

Maybe if you fucked Joel you’d get it out of your system.

Dieter sees the attraction to Joel, of course he does. He’s rough, burly, and has that southern charm about him. The way his shirt hugs his biceps, his jeans clinging to his thighs. Joel clears his throat and Dieter snaps his head up, finding Joel staring directly at him, having been caught ogling he can feel his face turning a shade darker. You smile at Dieter, covering your mouth while a giggle escapes your lips.

“I’m gonna get started on the bathroom,” Joel says, eyeing Dieter on the couch, “Don’t let me interrupt your morning, Hollywood,” he adds with a wink.

You make your way to the couch, curling into Dieter’s side.

“So,” you giggle, with that sparkle still in your eyes, “Joel, huh?”

“Joel,” Dieter smirks, wrapping his arm around you, nodding his head. He brings you closer to his side, kissing your temple, before he scoops Lexi into his other side, keeping both his girls close to him.

- - -

“Dieter,” Mark says, giving Dieter’s shoulder a shove, “Need to wake up, you’re home.”

“Home?” Dieter grumbles, scrubbing his hands down his face, he feels metal on one of his fingers. Eyes popping open, he spots a band on his left hand. Married. He’s married?

“Yeah, home,” Mark chuckles, “And don’t worry. I took care of everything so the three of you could spend some time together for the next couple days.”

Dieter grins, saying your name out loud quizzically, he needs to make sure it worked this time. Mark nods, he gets to spend time with his girls. His girls. Dieter hops out of the car, grabbing the duffle bag from the backseat.

“Thanks for the ride Mark,” he hollers as he makes his way to his front door, shaking with nerves as he stands there. Taking a deep breath he opens the door to find the house covered in darkness, flipping on the light he takes in the room before him. Toys, books, and small shoes scattered around. His smile grows wider as he hears a noise from upstairs.

You must be upstairs waiting for him. Dieter sets his duffle bag down next to the door before flinging his crocs off on his way up the stairs. The door of the master bedroom is opened by a jar and he can hear grunts coming from within.

Fuck, Dieter thinks, manly grunts can only mean one thing.

He tiptoes to the door opening it more, seeing you naked on your knees before Joel. His thick cock in your mouth as you bob your head faster along his length.

“S’it baby,” Joel groans, throwing his head back as you take more of him down your throat, “So fucking good at that.”

You’re moaning as he grips your head, holding you on his cock.

“Fuck,” Dieter whispers, feeling his dick twitch with interest, watching you gag on Joel’s length. Joel’s head snaps towards the doorway.

“Ya just gonna stand there Hollywood or ya gon’ join?” Joel smirks, eyeing Dieter up and down, “We’ve missed you.”

You moan, pulling off Joel's cock with a soft pop, twisting your body to see Dieter.

“Hi baby,” you purr at him, “Glad that you’re home.”

Dieter stands there frozen, watching you stroke Joel’s shaft with a sly grin.

This present time is nice, Dieter thinks with a smirk on his face, I can live with this.

[pandapetals]

You'll Get Used To It

logan howlett x afab!reader - mission, x-men team, slight angst, no y/n used, no reader description, inspired by x1 film where logan complains about the leather suits

Logan complains about the X-Men suits being too tight so you help him.

read on Ao3

The group had gathered in Xavier’s office, the tension almost tangible as Charles laid out the plans to rescue a group of captured mutant children. You stood alongside Scott and Storm, your eyes fixed on Xavier as he spoke, but the weight of Logan’s presence near the doorway was impossible to ignore. Even without looking, you could feel him—his silent, brooding energy radiating from the corner of the room, drawing your attention no matter how much you tried to focus.

Your heart tightened at the thought of him, but you forced yourself to stay focused, eyes ahead. There was too much at stake, too many lives on the line for you to let personal feelings cloud your judgment. Still, the awareness of Logan lingered in the back of your mind, pulling at your attention like a constant, steady pulse.

As Charles continued speaking, outlining the rescue strategy, you felt Logan’s gaze flicker across the room. Instinctively, you glanced over, catching his eyes for just a brief second before you quickly looked away. His eyes held something unreadable—something you had seen so many times but could never fully decipher.

You weren’t sure what had changed between the two of you over the past few months. It wasn’t like you had spent much time together, and yet, the air between you always seemed charged with an unspoken tension, something unacknowledged but undeniably real. You hated that it lingered now, distracting you when you needed to be focused.

“Logan,” Charles said suddenly, pulling your attention back to the present. “Your tracking skills will be essential for locating the children once we’re in the field.”

Logan straightened slightly at the mention of his name, his jaw tightening as he gave a short nod. “Yeah, I got it,” he muttered, though there was a gruffness in his voice like he wasn’t entirely sure where he fit in this plan.

Scott, ever the leader, turned toward Logan with his usual no-nonsense demeanor. “We don’t have time for personal conflicts. We work together on this—everyone’s lives depend on it.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed slightly at Scott, but he gave no response. The tension between the two was palpable, but Logan wasn’t about to pick a fight, not now. He just gave a curt nod, his focus turning back to Charles.

You couldn’t help but steal another glance in Logan’s direction, watching the way he squared his shoulders as if he was trying to brush off the weight of everyone’s eyes on him. You could see the tension there, the way his fists clenched at his sides, the way he seemed just a little more isolated than the rest of the group.

There was always something about Logan that felt... distant like he carried the world on his shoulders but never let anyone close enough to share the burden. He didn’t let people in. Not really. Except—except with you, there were those moments. Fleeting, unspoken, but moments where the wall between you seemed thinner, more fragile.

Charles’s voice brought your focus back again. “Trust is earned, Logan,” he said gently, his tone calm but firm. “But this mission is about more than trust. It’s about doing what’s right. We need you.”

Logan’s eyes flicked briefly to Charles before settling back on the ground. He was quiet for a moment, as if considering his options, weighing his place in all of this. Finally, he gave a sharp nod. “Fine. Let’s get it done.”

The group dispersed after that, heading toward the jet. You followed along in silence, your thoughts heavy with the weight of what was coming. It wasn’t until you were aboard the jet, sitting quietly in one of the seats near the back, that you noticed Logan fidgeting across from you, tugging at the collar of his black leather suit.

He grumbled under his breath, pulling at the stiff fabric as it pressed uncomfortably against his neck. The tension in his body hadn’t eased, and his frustration was palpable. You watched him for a moment, biting your lip to hold back a smile. Even Logan, with all his bravado and unshakable attitude, could be undone by something as simple as an uncomfortable suit.

“Having trouble?” you asked, your voice soft but teasing.

Logan shot you a sideways glance, his brow furrowing. “This damn suit’s choking me,” he muttered, still pulling at the collar like it was a noose around his neck. “How do you wear this thing?”

You chuckled softly, the sound surprising even you. In the midst of the tension and the stakes of the mission, here was Logan, fighting his uniform like it was his worst enemy. “You get used to it,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “Just part of the job.”

Logan huffed, clearly unconvinced. “Yeah, well, not sure I’ll be wearing this long enough to get used to it.”

A smile tugged at your lips, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward slightly. “Here, let me fix it.”

You reached over, your fingers brushing against his neck as you gently tugged at the collar of his suit, loosening the tight material. Logan tensed at the contact, his muscles tightening under your touch, but he didn’t pull away. He just watched you, his eyes softening ever so slightly as you worked to make him more comfortable.

“There,” you said after a moment, your fingers lingering a bit longer than necessary before you pulled back. “That should be better.”

Logan blinked, reaching up to touch the collar, his expression caught somewhere between surprise and... something else. “Thanks,” he muttered, his voice a little quieter now, almost unsure.

You smiled, settling back into your seat. “Don’t mention it. Can’t have you grumbling through the entire mission.”

Logan grunted in response, but there was something lighter in his tone now, a shift in the atmosphere between you. You could still feel the tension—the uncertainty of the mission, the weight of everything unsaid between you—but for a moment, it felt manageable.

The jet engines hummed as the team prepared for takeoff, and you glanced over at Logan one last time. He was still fidgeting with the suit, but now his movements were slower, less agitated. His eyes met yours, and for a second, you thought you saw something soften in his expression. Something unguarded, if only for a fleeting moment.

“You’re going to make a good teammate, you know that?” you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

Logan raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Is that so?”

“Yeah,” you replied, your tone light but sincere. “For a guy who’s constantly acting like he doesn’t need anyone... you’re not so bad.”

He chuckled, the sound low and rough but not unkind. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You smiled, leaning back in your seat as the jet lifted into the sky. “You should.”

For the first time in a long while, the silence that followed didn’t feel so heavy. It felt... easy. Comfortable. Like maybe there was room for something more between the two of you. Something real. Something unspoken but understood.

Logan leaned back, his hand resting idly against the loosened collar, and let out a long breath, his eyes closing briefly as he settled into the quiet feeling lighter.