#all the love for owen ❤️

[zingaplanet]

Ok but how good is it to have the man, the myth, the legend finally back on our screens???

Owen Wilson, Actor.

[quicksiluers]

in honor of ivan’s birthday, here are some hugs~! 🥳

[ghost-qwq]

I don't have much to share rn but I have these ✨

[blakbonnet]

Happy meow day!!! 🎉💕💐

I have a question for you which I would dearly love to know the answer to:

What was your favorite part of MMC to write?

(also, to anyone who hasn't read MMC - please do! It's magic!!! ✨✨✨)

Omg wings, you've been evil ganging these past few weeks without my knowing!!! 😭😭😭

My favourite part to write was absolutely fem!Hornigold. When the fic started, I didn't know there would be a Hornigold and then, I found out they'd cast someone for the character but I genuinely didn't think he'd get a whole ass episode and a personality lmao. (also my badass lesbian Hornigold had already been written and I'd fallen in love with her so it was too late to change but boy am I glad I didn't)

Ed in MMC - like in the show - seriously lacked any adults in his life who were good and kind and cared for him. And I needed someone like Hornigold who could be that for him, to ground him and shape him into the mage he was, but who was also someone he was absolutely inspired by. He got his all leather look from her, he learnt most of his tricks from her, half his jokes are her jokes. And to have her also be Māori was important because we all need someone who shares our history to look up to ❤️

[milesworld96]

JD is gonna get fucking murdered by Damien and Rhea dawg💀💀

Also have a happy 9 months and 1 week early pride month to Zowenrhodes as well this Monday❤️

[oskea93]

Kansas Anymore (2)

Tyler Owens x OC

Summary: In which Riley Owens, the ex-wife of the infamous Tornado Wrangler, has 36 hours to come to terms if moving to a whole new country with their small daughter is something she truly wants to do.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, suggested smut, fluff. ✶ Chapter One ✶

■ Italics = Flashback ■ A/N: You guys are amazing! I just want to say thank you so much for loving this story and follwing the tale of Riley and Tyler ❤️ ■ Taglist is available - just drop a comment! Would love to hear your thoughts, questions, or maybe just drop by to say hello! Can't wait to hear from y'all

TL:  @ellesmythe @18lkpeters @hookslove1592, @djs8891, @smoothdogsgirl @queenslandlover-93 @imjustamehbleh @love2write2626 @lt-jakeseresin @starcrossedtrek

“You know when you said that we were going to a show, I didn’t expect it to involve horses and mud.”

I let out a frustrated sigh, my heels sinking into the soggy ground with each step. I had been in Arkansas for less than a month – choosing to attend the college that my father spoke so highly of growing up. As each day passed, it was getting harder and harder to fight the urge to pack all my things and head back home.

My roommate Sarah, who had grown up in the area, laughed as she turned to face me. "Welcome to the South! This is what we call a rodeo. Trust me, you'll have fun."

I glanced around at the bustling fairground. Families gathered around food stalls, the smell of popcorn and barbecue hanging in the air. Children ran past us, their boots splashing in puddles, their laughter ringing out above the distant sounds of country music. Cowboys in worn jeans and hats moved with purpose, leading majestic horses by the reins.

"Fun, huh?" I muttered, trying to pull my heel out of yet another patch of mud. "It looks like a real blast.” Sarah grinned and tugged at my arm, leading me toward the main arena. "Oh, come on! You haven't even seen the best parts yet. The bull riding, barrel racing, and don't forget the rodeo clowns. They’re hilarious!"

As we walked, I noticed the vibrant colors of the stands selling cowboy hats, boots, and all sorts of Western memorabilia. There was an infectious energy in the air. People greeted each other with wide smiles and friendly nods, embodying the warmth of Southern hospitality that Sarah had talked about.

We passed a group of teenagers gathered around a mechanical bull. They cheered each other on, daring one another to take a ride. Sarah nudged me, "Think you could last eight seconds on that thing?"

I shook my head, laughing. "No way! I'd be thrown off in a heartbeat."

A mischievous smirk broke across her face. “Never know till you try.” I rolled my eyes and started to walk away, but her grip on my arm stopped me. “Just once.” Her eyes widened with a playful challenge. “Have a little fun, Riley.”

My eyes glanced between her and the machinery behind her, taking in the sight as a teenage boy was thrown from the contraption, his friends commending his effort with hoots and hollers. The boy, though dusting himself off, wore a wide grin as he rejoined his group, their camaraderie infectious.

I sighed, feeling a mix of reluctance and curiosity. “I’m not wearing the right clothes for that thing,” I said, the excuse as flimsy as it sounded. “Plus, I could break a bone or som—”

“You riding or not, darlin’?” came a loud voice from behind me.

Sarah’s eyes shifted to the voice, and I turned to meet the face of the commenter. He was a tall fucker – had to be over six foot with an overinflated ego. His boots were dusty, and his hat cast a shadow over his eyes, but I could still see the arrogance etched in his smirk. “Excuse me?” I replied, my tone a bit harsher than intended.

“You heard me,” he said, leaning casually against the gate. “You gonna give it a go or just stand there making excuses?” His cocky smile shone bright, and I could practically taste the mockery in his voice. “Too scared you're gonna break a nail?”

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks, not out of embarrassment but anger. I clenched my fists and took a step forward, feeling the rough texture of the ground beneath my boots. “Listen, cowboy,” I said, my voice steady despite the irritation bubbling inside. “I’m not here to play games or prove anything to you.”

Sarah shifted uncomfortably beside me, her eyes darting between us. I could sense her unease, but I wasn’t about to back down. The man’s smirk widened, clearly enjoying the tension he was stoking.

“Prove something to me?” he chuckled, pushing off the gate and taking a step closer. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to prove anything to me.” His eyes slowly moved up my body, lingering in a way that made my skin flush. “Just to yourself.”

The guy raised an eyebrow, a knowing smirk centered on his chiseled face. Clearly, he thought he had me all figured out.

I turned back to Sarah, her eyes showing concern as I handed off my purse and coat. “You really don’t have to do this, Riley.” Her tone shadowed her eyes. “Tyler’s just being an asshole. He’s like that with all the girls in town—” She paused shortly. “You’re just the only one who’s ever talked to him like that.”

“Let’s see what you got, city girl!” The Tyler guy hooped, causing those close enough to center their attention on the situation.

Rolling my eyes, I hastily removed my purse, pushing the bag into Sarah’s arms. “You really don’t have to do this, Riley,” Sarah's voice now hesitant as she looked at me with concern. “We can just go somewhere else and have fun, forget about that guy.”

I shook my head in protest, my resolve hardening as I cast one last glance at the idiot across the room. His smirk fueled my determination. “No way. I’m not gonna give that jerkoff the satisfaction of watching me wuss out,” I declared, my voice tinged with defiance.

As I pushed up the sleeves of my designer shirt, a small act of rebellion that would have my mother clutching her inherited pearls in horror, I felt a surge of adrenaline. This was my moment to show that I was not someone to be pushed around, not someone to be intimidated by an urban cowboy fool at a fucking rodeo.

I confidently approached the bull, climbing onto the steel, gripping the handle with white-knuckled determination.

"Hold on tight, darlin," the elderly operator smiled warmly, his weathered face lined with experience and mischief. With a practiced hand, he flipped the switch, setting the mechanical bull into motion.

As the bull lurched forward, the world around me seemed to blur into a whirlwind of colors and sounds. The contraption bucked and spun with unpredictable ferocity, testing every ounce of my balance and resolve. I clenched the reins tightly, my muscles straining as I fought to stay atop the bucking beast. Sarah’s cheers blended with the roar of the crowd, a chorus of encouragement that spurred me on.

Seconds stretched into what felt like minutes, my focus narrowing to the rhythmic movements of the mechanical beast. Just as I started to think I might actually last the full eight seconds, the bull gave a particularly violent twist, sending me flying into the padded arena.

I let out a groan of both relief and exhaustion, feeling the adrenaline slowly ebb away as I managed to flip myself onto my back. As I lay there, breathing heavily, the cool night sky spread out above me like a vast, dark canvas adorned with twinkling stars.

Sarah's figure quickly loomed over me, her expression a mix of concern and relief etched across her features. With a swift movement, she crouched down beside me, her eyes scanning me from head to toe as if checking for any signs of injury.

"Are you okay?" she asked, her voice laced with genuine worry and care as she assessed my well-being.

I slowly nodded my head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I think so," I replied, my sentence trailing off momentarily as I gathered my thoughts. "Was that okay?" I inquired, seeking reassurance after the whirlwind of the mechanical bull ride.

Sarah's expression shifted from slight confusion at my question to a mischievous smile that lit up her face. "Are you kidding me, Riley?" she exclaimed, her voice filled with pride and excitement. "That was more than okay. You had Tyler Owens, the reigning rodeo champion, dropping his jaw so far to the ground that he's gonna need some help putting it back in place."

We shared a laugh as she helped me off the mat, my black slacks now dotted with dust and dirt.

"You did good, little girl," the older man remarked with a warm smile as we exited the gates of the rodeo arena. I shyly thanked him, feeling a surge of pride at his encouraging words, but my smile quickly faded as a tall stranger approached us, his hands casually tucked into his denim pockets.

"Wasn't expecting you to last a second, city girl," he remarked with a smirk that seemed to gleam in the dim light of the night. "Gotta hand it to you though, you make riding a bull look easy."

I met his gaze with a mixture of defiance and amusement, my own smirk playing at the corners of my lips. "Yeah, well," I retorted, taking a step closer to him, the adrenaline of the ride still coursing through my veins. "It's all in the hips, really."

My words hung in the air between us, a playful challenge laced with a hint of confidence. “Is that right?” His voice dropping an octave, sending a shiver down my spine. “Gonna have to teach me your ways then.”

A flicker of a smile danced across my lips, “Me teach you-“ I took a step back. “From what I hear you’re a world-renowned bull rider, probably the best in the county, maybe even the state.” My words boosting his overstrung ego. “I’m sure a bull made of steel is no match for-“ I paused, tilting my head. “What’s your name again?”

“You know my name, darlin.” His words igniting a burn in my stomach.

He arched an eyebrow as I drew near, clearly taken aback by my sudden boldness. His cronies and Sarah exchanged glances, unsure of what was unfolding before them. I could almost taste the tension in the air, thick and crackling with anticipation.

Without a word, I stood before him, my gaze unwavering. The hint of a smirk played on his lips, a challenge in his eyes. But I held my ground, a silent defiance radiating from every fiber of my being. My hand slowly trailing up his flannel covered front, his breath hitching with each touch.

In one swift motion, I reached out and plucked the Stetson hat from his head, the symbol of his false bravado. Placing the hat atop my head, my smile smug as I looked up at him, almost daring him to take it back.

“You shouldn’t let strangers get too close to you, Tyler Owens,” I remarked coolly, the gravel crunching under my heels as I took a step back. “That’s a lesson us city girls learn at a young age.”

10:54am (2.21 hrs since arrival)

“I can’t believe it's been over a year since we’ve seen you and the little bean,” Lilly smiled warmly over her coffee cup, her eyes reflecting a mix of nostalgia and longing. “I mean, we get to talk to her on video chat, but it’s just not the same.”

I nodded in agreement, a tinge of guilt flickering in my chest. “Yeah, work has been so hectic, and I never know where you guys are gonna be, especially during the season. Tyler’s like a butterfly – floating wherever the wind blows.”

Lilly chuckled softly, the sound carrying a hint of understanding. “I know he misses her a lot –” Her sentence paused, a moment of hesitation flitting across her features. “Misses you a lot too.” Her gaze met mine, her eyes reflecting a mix of empathy and unspoken truths. “He still has that picture of the two of you nestled in his visor.”

The photograph that Lilly had taken two weeks after I found out I was pregnant with Caroline. The storm clouds black as night loomed behind us, a stark contrast to the brightness of our smiles that shone as radiant as the sun in the sky.

Tyler had insisted on capturing the moment, his easy laugh filling the air as he playfully teased about becoming parents. Despite the uncertainty and fear that lingered in the depths of my heart, his unwavering support and infectious optimism had been a beacon of light in the midst of the looming storm.

The diner's door suddenly swung open, and in walked Boone, a towering figure with my four-year-old daughter, Caroline, perched high on his shoulders. "Here she comes, Ms. America!" Boone's southern twang echoed through the small space, causing a few of the older folks to turn their heads in mild disapproval. Caroline's infectious giggle, so reminiscent of her father's, rang out as she played along with the theatrics, her smile radiant as ever.

I watched as the two of them made their way through the diner, drawing smiles and curious glances from the other patrons. Caroline's tiny hand waved enthusiastically at the strangers, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Boone, ever the playful uncle, hammed it up for her, making exaggerated gestures and funny faces that elicited peals of laughter from the little girl perched on his shoulders.

As Boone approached our table, I made space for him in the booth, eagerly awaiting Caroline's arrival. Her tiny hands reached out for me as I gently lifted her off his shoulders, her eyes alight with excitement. "Mommy, Daddy said I could go with him and Uncle Booney when the 'nado comes," she announced proudly. "Daddy said there's gonna be one real soon."

My eyes immediately darted to where Boone still stood, his gaze evading mine as he focused intently on the intricate pattern of the floor tiles. "No," I said firmly, my hand instinctively reaching out to gently grasp Caroline's pigtailed braid. "Sweetheart, it's far too dangerous to go with Daddy and Uncle Boone. You need to stay here with me where it's safe."

Caroline's face began to crumple into a disappointed pout, her lower lip trembling slightly. Her eyes, usually bright with curiosity and mischief, now filled with a mixture of defiance and longing. "No, Mommy," she protested, her voice rising in a blend of frustration and determination. "I want to go with Daddy!"

Her attitude shifted suddenly, like a fault line in an earthquake, her small arms crossing over her chest in a display of stubborn defiance. The tension in the room seemed to thicken as her words hung in the air, charged with the raw energy of a child's unwavering will.

I let out a frustrated sigh, feeling the weight of the moment pressing down on me. My eyes flicked over to Lilly, her expression a mixture of concern and understanding.

"Caroline, I'm not having this argument with you," I said firmly, my voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. The tears that had been threatening to spill over now glistened in Caroline's wide green eyes, her lower lip quivering with unshed emotion.

"You're not going, and that's final," I stated, my tone leaving no room for further negotiation. The air in the room seemed to thicken with the weight of my words, the tension between us palpable.

Caroline's shoulders slumped in defeat, her small form trembling with suppressed emotion. A single tear escaped her eye, trailing down her cheek in a silent testament to her disappointment.

Lilly sat forward, her presence a comforting anchor. "Caroline, honey, Mommy is just trying to keep you safe. Sometimes we have to trust that the grown-ups know what's best for us, even when it's hard to understand."

“But you go with daddy to the nados.” Caroline's matter-of-fact statement catching Lilly off guard, her surprise evident in the way her brow furrowed slightly.

"Well," Lilly began, her voice gentle yet tinged with a sense of hesitation. "It's my job to go with your dad and help with the tornadoes. But if my mom told me not to, then I would listen to her and stay behind." Lilly and I shared a knowing glance, a silent acknowledgment passing between us.

We both knew her words were a facade, a carefully constructed lie meant to shield Caroline from the harsh realities of the world. Lilly's mother's disapproval of her association with Tyler and the gang was no secret, a source of tension that simmered beneath the surface of their relationship.

The chimes above the door sounded again as Tyler stepped across the threshold. His smile on display as he greeted those in the restaurant, sparking a conversation with the random patrons. “Daddy!” Caroline quickly stood on the booth’s seat, her arms waving in the air to get Tyler’s attention.

Tyler waved goodbye to his admirers, his smile growing even wider as he approached our booth. As he drew closer, I could already anticipate the first thing that would escape Caroline's lips—the reminder of how I had told her she couldn't go with him on a chase, a trait she had undoubtedly inherited from me.

"Hey there, sweet pea," Tyler greeted Caroline, his voice brimming with affection as he stepped behind the booth. Caroline's arms instinctively wrapped around his neck as he lifted her out of the seat with practiced ease. "Have you gotten something to eat yet?"

Caroline nestled her head against Tyler's shoulder, her small frame shaking with soft sniffles. Concern etched across his face, Tyler gently pressed, "What's wrong, baby?" He reached up to wipe away a stray tear that was making its way down her cheek.

"Mommy won't let me go with you and Uncle Booney for the nado chase," Caroline whispered, her voice filled with a mixture of disappointment and longing.

 Tyler's gaze, the same shade of green as Caroline, locked onto mine with a mix of curiosity and concern. "What's the deal, Riley?" he inquired, his voice gentle but probing.

My face betrayed my emotions before I could even formulate a response. A wave of unease and protectiveness washed over me as I struggled to find the right words to convey my concerns.

"The deal, Tyler, is that she's just a baby," I began, my voice tinged with a blend of firmness and vulnerability. "She doesn't need to be out in the truck, spinning around in a tornado. It's not safe for you and the guys, and it's definitely not safe for a 4-year-old child."

"I'm not a baby, mommy!" Caroline quipped, her voice filled with a mix of defiance and determination, catching me off guard.

My eyebrows raised in surprise at her unexpected retort. "Well, you're my baby, little girl, and like I said, it’s too dangerous to be out there with daddy. Maybe when you're a little older – say twenty –“

“Twenty!” Tyler exclaimed. “You can’t have her living in a bubble all her life, Riley.”

The atmosphere in the room grew tense as my jaw slacked in immediate anger, my eyes narrowing as Tyler stared back at me. "Excuse me?" I retorted; my voice edged with frustration. "Like you have any control of that, since I'm the primary parent here and you're just someone who comes and goes like the fucking wind you chase!"

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed as Boone and Lilly stepped forward, "Hey, little bean—" Lilly approached Tyler and Caroline, who was actually crying at this point. My frustration with Tyler causing me to forget that she was right in front of me in his arms.

"Why don’t you come with us and help us sell some t-shirts?" Lilly suggested, her warm smile aimed at Caroline, who sniffled and wiped away her tears.

Boone stepped lightly behind me, his easygoing demeanor a calming presence. "Yeah, who's gonna turn down an adorable kid?" he added with a playful grin, trying to lighten the mood.

I hastily ran a hand through my hair as Caroline climbed into Lilly's arms, her giggles filling the room and momentarily easing the tension. Tyler's face remained stoic as he sent glares my way, the unspoken emotions between us hanging heavy in the air.

Feeling the weight of his gaze, I met his eyes with a mix of defiance and weariness. The complexities of our relationship, the unresolved issues simmering beneath the surface, were laid bare in that moment of silent confrontation.

Tyler's voice was low and filled with hurt as he spoke, "That was a really shitty thing to do, Riley. To bring that up in front of Caroline – make me look like a bad dad. Real nice."

I lowered my head in frustration as Tyler stormed past me, his steps purposeful and heavy. The hushed whispers of those around us mingled with the clinking of cutlery, casting a spotlight on our tense exchange. With a heavy sigh, I gathered my composure, steeling myself against the onslaught of prying eyes and whispered conversations. The weight of their scrutiny bore down on me, a reminder of the fragility of our private struggles in a very public setting.

[twistersobsessed]

I love that you write for Scott there isnt enough for him❤️ could you write something where the reader and Scott are in a secret relationship bc she is part of Tyler's team. Noone sees the side of Scott that the reader sees and they are just so in love with each other and hes so protectiveof her. The reader was in the movie theater tornado and instead of Lilly being the one Tyler holds on to its the reader and after everything Scott makes it to the town and finds out what happened and without thinking he kisses the reader in front of everyone and gets emotional that she's ok.Everyone's shocked but they finally see the side of Scott he only shows the reader. Later that night they are in the hotel and they have sweet romantic sex and he ask her to marry him!

Sorry it's so long I suck at summarizing lol

Soft Side | Scott x Reader

A/N: To make it make sense, Scott and Javi weren’t in the same truck when the El Reno hit. Javi went to help but Scott stayed back with the team until he realized you were there.

You and Scott had been dating for six months now, and absolutely no one in your lives knew about it. It takes a special connection to be able to make a relationship work with your jobs, especially to make that relationship work in secret.

You were Tyler Owens’ little sister, he was your senior by eight years. He’d finally let you join the Wranglers nine months ago, with a warning to stay away from Storm Par; they were a bunch of dicks with fancy degrees.

You were never one to listen though. Besides, you thought Javi was a lovely person, and from recognizing his last name, you knew he had been through hell.

His partner, Scott, was something else. Tall, dark, handsome, and mean. Just your type. Javi was easy being nice to, you enjoyed talking to him, but Scott – Scott was a challenge. You liked a challenge.

As soon as you met him you were determined to break through his hard exterior. It took four weeks. Four weeks before you were able to bound up to Scott and hold a solid conversation without him giving you attitude or looking down on you, while your brother and friends watched on dumbfounded.

For the next two months, Javi would always joke about Scott’s soft spot for you. Scott would deny it with a scowl, but it was true. He was slowly falling for you.

Three months after you met him, Scott asked you out. Your first “date” was sharing drinks in your motel room after a day of chasing, because Storm Par was staying at the same motel as your group; of course they were.

You both agreed it was best to keep the relationship secret for the sake’s of both your jobs and your teams.

Honestly, as much as you wanted to be able to be public with your boyfriend, it wasn’t all bad. You almost felt like a high schooler sneaking around with your crush. It was lingering glances, “accidental” touches, and a lot of late nights in motel rooms.

Scott was at the forefront of your thoughts constantly.

But not right now.

Right now, your imminent death was at the forefront of your thoughts as the El Reno tornado tried to suck you right out of the movie theater.

Your grip on the chairs slipped and you screamed, your body being pulled into the air. Before you could get too far, Tyler caught both your hands in his, keeping himself anchored by hooking his ankle around the base of a chair.

You were fully off the ground as the angry, swirling winds tried to claim you, but your brother wouldn’t let go. He thought he’d already lost Kate, he wouldn’t lose you too.

“Please, don’t let me go!” You begged. “I’ve got you!” Tyler yelled over the noise.

You closed your eyes, and then suddenly, your body hit the ground, hard. The noise, the wind, it all stopped. You opened your eyes and looked at Tyler before rolling over to look behind you. The tornado was gone.

You sighed, tears welling in your eyes from the adrenaline pumping through your veins. Boone helped you up. “You alright?” You nodded, hugging him tightly. Tyler approached the gaping hole in the building, looking out into the field.

You stepped up next to him. “What is it?” “Kate,” he answered, then he and Javi were running towards his mangled truck off in the distance. You rallied the rest of the Wranglers before following your brother and Javi.

You all swarmed Kate, praising her and celebrating that she was alright when suddenly a familiar voice rang through the air. “(NAME)!”

You turned to see Scott, sprinting over to you. As soon as he reached you, he picked you up in his arms, holding you tight. You wrapped your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder.

Neither of you paid any mind to the stunned looks from your audience.

“I was so worried.” Scott’s voice cracked. “God, you stress me out. Throwing yourself in the path of that monster just to help people.” He put you down, hands on your waist while his blue eyes scanned you for injuries.

His face was contorted in worry and he frowned at the bruises and cuts you’d collected from debris. “It almost got me,” you muttered. “I would have been gone if Tyler didn’t catch me.” Scott let out a shaky breath, before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours desperately.

The tears that had been building fell down your cheeks. Scott kissed them away.

“What the hell?”

You were pulled back to the reality of where you were and who your audience was when Tyler spoke. You and Scott looked at the group. They were all watching you with surprise written all over their faces.

“Guess we’re public now,” you murmured to Scott. “Sorry,” you said to Tyler. “I know I should have told you but…” There was nothing you could really say.

Tyler looked conflicted. “Him, (Name)?”

Scott kept you pressed against his side protectively.

“He’s good to me, Tyler.”

“Are you happy?”

You looked up at Scott with a small smile. “Very.”

Tyler sighed. “Alright then.” He stepped forward and extended his hand to Scott. Scott shook it. “If you hurt her…” Tyler warned.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Owens.”

Boone whistled. “(Name) and Clipboard. Who knew?”

“I did,” Javi grinned. “I knew there was something going on there. You two are cute.”

The exposure of your relationship went over better than you thought it would, and you were grateful, because after the day’s events, you didn’t want to leave Scott’s protective hold.

That night you and Scott booked your first motel room together. You bid your brother and the Wranglers goodnight before Scott took your hand and led you off to your room. Once inside, he pulled you into his chest.

“I was so scared I’d lost you,” he admitted quietly. You shuddered, remembering the feeling of your body fully off the ground as the tornado tried to take you. “You almost did,” you admitted. Scott pulled you over to the bed, sitting down on the edge and pulling you into his lap.

You sat in his lap hugging him, and you stayed like that for a while, until you pulled back slightly to look Scott in the eyes. His eyes searched yours before his gaze dropped to your lips. He leaned forward and gently kissed you.

But you needed more.

You kissed him back eagerly, grinding down in his lap. You felt Scott grow hard beneath you. He pulled back from your heated kiss. “Baby, are you sure? After the day you’ve had–” “After the day I’ve had, all I need is you,” you whispered.

That was all Scott needed to hear.

He captured your lips with his again, his hands moving down to massage your ass. His tongue slid into your mouth and you moaned. You ran your fingers through his soft dark hair. Scott suddenly stood up, carrying you with him with his hands under your ass, and turned to gently lay you down on the bed.

Usually he would throw you, but he was extra mindful of your injuries tonight. He took off his shirt and unbuckled his belt, sliding it off before kicking off his pants. He crawled onto the bed and on top of you, lowering himself over your body to gently reconnect your lips.

You wrapped your legs around his hips to pull his crotch flush against yours, elicitng a moan from him. Deciding there was still way too much material between the two of you, Scott pulled back and sat back on his legs to remove your shorts. You removed your shirt while he did so. Leaving you in your panties, Scott bent back over you and began to grind his hips into yours.

The friction of his hard dick against your pussy was immaculate, even with the material of your panties and his boxers seperating the two of you.

You were satiated for about two minutes while you made out and dry humped, before getting impatient and whimpering, “Off, please.”

Scott wasn’t about to refuse you, sliding off the bed to kick off his boxers. You stared at his dick in eager anticipation. Scott pulled your panties down your legs while he was standing, discarding them to the floor with the rest of both of your clothes. He stared at you, with your legs wide open, on display just for him, and his eyes swirled with both love and lust.

He crawled back onto the bed and you, resuming your makeout session. His dick slid through your wet folds, driving you insane, and you moaned against his mouth. “Put it in, Scottie.”

He’d never admit it, but Scott melted at the nickname.

“Are you sure, baby? I haven’t even fingered you.”

“Please,” you begged. “Trust me, I’m wet enough. I need you inside me.”

Scott groaned. Maybe being buried in your heat, connected as intimately as two people can be, would wash away the anxiety and fear that the day had brought.

He lined himself up before intertwining his fingers with yours, gently pinning your hands to the sides of your head. He kissed you sweetly as he pushed into you, and you gasped at the stretch as your body accommodated his size.

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips when he bottomed out. You stayed like that, flush against each other for a moment.

Scott deepened the kiss when he began moving, his thrusts slow, but hard and deliberate, hitting you just right. He let go of one of your hands to reach between your bodies and circle your clit in time with his thrusts.

“Fuck, Scott, faster,” you begged.

Scott didn’t respond, but did pick up the pace of his thrusts. You gasped and moaned as he pounded into you, squeezing the life out of the hand that was holding yours. Scott pulled back to attack your neck instead, sucking and biting, making sure to leave his mark.

“I love you so much,” Scott murmured against your neck. “You’re here. You’re safe.” You were pretty sure he was talking to himself more than you.

He let go of your hand to bring his hand to your chest, squeezing and groping your breast, deliberately brushing his thumb across your nipple. You reached up to embrace him, raking your nails down his back in pleasure. He secretly loved when you did that.

Scott pulled back to look at your face. Your eyes were closed, your face contorted in concentrated pleasure. You were flushed and slightly sweaty, as Scott could feel he was too. Scott almost came from the sight. Instead he worked his hips to hit a new angle that had you gasping. Then he was focused on hitting that spot repeatedly.

“Oh, fuck, Scottie~” you moaned. “Fuck… I’m so close.”

Scott kept his rhythm but picked up the pace just a little, and soon you were crying out as you came. He muffled your cries of pleasure with his mouth on yours. Kissing you deeply as you clenched around him, impossibly tight.

It was enough to send Scott over the edge. He thrust as deeply into you as he could, cumming inside of you. Your stomach warmed, you loved when he finished inside of you. It was hot and intimate. Scott didn’t even bother with condoms anymore.

But in the throes of his pleasure, Scott muttered something he never had before. “Fuck, gonna get you pregnant.”

It sent an aftershock of pleasure through you.

When Scott came down from his high, you broached the subject. “Gonna get me pregnant, huh?”

Scott smirked, kissing your lips. “Yeah, I am.”

You blushed.

Scott stayed inside you for another three minutes as you lazily made out. When he finally did pull out, he sat back on his heels to watch his cum slowly drip out of you. He frowned, and before you could prepare for what he was about to do, he slid two fingers into you, pushing his cum back inside.

You gasped from overstimulation. “Fuck, Scottie.”

“I told you I’m gonna get you pregnant,” Scott murmured, finger fucking his cum back into you slowly.

Mercifully, he didn’t do it for long, and you sighed contently when he removed his fingers.

“Are you okay?” Scott suddenly looked concerned, his hands roaming your body gently. “I didn’t hurt you did I? I wasn’t too rough? How are you feeling?”

You chuckled. “I feel great, Scott. I’m fine. That was just what I needed after today.”

Scott smiled and laid down next to you, pulling you into his arms. He held you tightly, like you might fly away. You relaxed in his hold, loose and comfortable. Your mind was finally silenced after the day’s events.

“I love you, (Name).”

“I love you more, Scottie.”

But Scott became unusually antsy over the next ten minutes, and it was starting to make you nervous. “Scott, what’s up?”

“Just–” Scott let go of you, sitting up and sliding off the bed. “Hold on, princess.” He found his pants and began fishing in the pocket. He found what he was looking for and quickly hid it behind his back.

You were sitting up in bed at this point, watching him. “Scott?”

“(Name).” Scott approached the bed. “This isn’t how I wanted to do this. I mean we’re both still naked and there are definately more romantic ways I could do this but I couldn’t wait anymore. Not after today.”

He got down on one knee.

Your jaw dropped.

Scott presented a ring box from behind his back. “(Name), will you marry me?”

You shot off the bed and into his arms faster than he could blink, knocking you both over.

“YES!”

[naeverse]

You're Not My Husband

~Ｖｉｃｅ ＃２~

𝐖𝐞𝐞𝐤 𝟐: 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐌𝐲 𝐃𝐨𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

(𝐎𝐜𝐭. 𝟔-𝟏𝟐)

----

𝘓𝘶𝘴𝘵:

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪����𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘦'𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘥𝘨𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘬𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘳.

-

𝘓𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘴𝘧𝘪𝘦𝘴.

"𝘙𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘰" - 𝘓𝘢𝘩 𝘗𝘢𝘵 

“𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘴𝘴” - 𝘊𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘢 𝘊𝘢𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘰

Art was found on Pinterest. All credit goes to the original artists, designers, and photographers.

🕷️staring: Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader

      🩸preview: 

Placing in the brown contacts that he’d made last minute to hide his red irises and removing the black square frames from his sleeping, pathetic variant, he gazed at himself in the car mirror. There, he found himself—but not truly him.

Just a version of Miguel you would believe in…

A weaker variant of himself, the Spider Society Leader was willing to be for you.

🖤summary: After the tragic death of his daughter, Gabriella, Miguel is consumed by emptiness and darkness. Desperate for solace, he discovers you—a woman from another dimension—trapped in an unfulfilling marriage with a lesser version of himself. Seeing you reignites something in him, and he knows he must have you, no matter the consequences.

❤️tw/cw: Big Dick Miguel, Biting, Body worship, Claiming, Cock bulge, Desperation, Deception, Doppelganger, Dirty Talk, Human Miguel O’Hara, Identity Play, Imposter Fantasty, Fantasies, Fantasizing, Fingering, Marking, Multiple Orgasms, Rough sex, Spiderman-2099, Tits Worship

🕸️Pet names: Amor (Love), Bebé (Baby), Cariño (Darling), Esposa (Wife), Hiel (Honey), Mi amor (My love)

     🩸Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

 🕷️ Word Count: 8k words 

“Miguel…”

The enchanted voice called out to him like a siren beckoning from the depths. The image of the magnificent woman before him—you—appeared, your hair blowing gently in the wind, sunlight illuminating each strand, making you look even more ethereal. Your skin glistened, and your eyes sparkled with a warmth that made his heart clench.

You were perfect, almost unreal, yet so tangible it ached.

“Miguel.” You smiled, that same smile that could quell his hot temper, soothe the desire in him that had been lost since his daughter passed, and unravel the most intricate parts of him, leaving him bare and vulnerable for the first time in a long while.

His chest tightened, his heart pounded, and he knew without a doubt that this woman was meant to be his…

“Miguel!?”

The voice called out again, but it wasn’t your soft, hypnotizing one. No, it was distant, sharp, snapping him back to reality.

Miguel flinched, his senses kicking in as he stood inside his office, his muscular body rigid under his blue and red holographic suit. His red eyes focused on Jessica Owens, his right-hand, standing in front of him, her arms crossed and eyebrows raised in both confusion and frustration.

“Did you hear anything I just said?” she asked, peering at him through her shades, evidently noticing his distraction.

Clearing his throat and blinking his dazed eyes, Miguel tried to compose himself, his thoughts still lingering on you, trapped in the endless loops of desire that seemed to consume him. Running a tired hand through his unkempt, dark curls, he released a deep sigh. “Mis disculpas… could you repeat that?”

Jessica eyed him warily, sighing. “I was talking about the anomaly in Earth-274 that LYLA detected,” she stated, her gloved fingers moving along the gizmo on her wrist, displaying the rampaging Green Goblin anomaly. “He’s been creating chaos since his arrival. We need to capture him and send him back to his dimension before he causes any more damage.”

Miguel hummed in acknowledgment, though his attention was barely on her words, simply appearing to listen. His mind was still reeling, the image of you seared into his consciousness.

He turned his back to Jessica, fingers moving across the neon-yellow keyboards of his monitors in a distracted manner. Holographic screens beamed brightly, displaying surveillance data, Spider Society operations, and loose anomalies like the Green Goblin variant… but hidden behind the chaos was your world.

Earth-956.

Jessica’s voice became background noise as he stared at the monitors. His mind wandered back to you again—to your laughter, the way your eyes shimmered when you smiled, the hypnotizing, graceful way your body moved…

It drove him mad.

He couldn’t keep doing this.

Jessica’s gaze lingered on him, and Miguel knew his right-hand could sense something was off.

And she would be correct—Miguel was anything but okay.

His appearance had grown disheveled. His tan skin had become pale and gaunt from lack of sleep. The usual sharpness in his red eyes had dulled, haunted by sleepless nights replaced with lust and longing. His dark brown hair was messy, the bags beneath his eyes deeper than ever.

But, as always, he waved off her concern.

“I’m fine, Jess,” he growled, his voice tight. “I’ll send you and a team to handle the anomaly on Earth-274. I don’t want any mistakes. Entiende?”

“Yeah, sure,” she replied, though suspicion and worry were evident in her voice. Miguel could hear her hesitance—the opening and closing of her mouth to speak—before she ultimately left, her footsteps fading into the distance.

The second the doors to his office sealed shut, Miguel let out a shaky breath, relief washing over him.

The buzz of electronics and the hum of Nueva York outside his window barely registered as he stood there, his chest heaving. All he could think about was you, the woman from Earth-956.

The one thing that kept him tethered to this madness.

“Ay, coño… I can’t keep doing this,” he muttered, his voice low and gravelly, scolding himself as he fought the ache coursing through his body. His fingers itched, craving just one more glimpse of you before he denied himself completely. Just one more moment of pretending…

“One last time.” He told himself the same lie every time, but the need was too strong. It clawed at him, consumed him. His hands moved on their own, bringing up the hidden screen, and there you were—like a light in the darkness.

“Come on, my love, you have work,” your voice floated through the feed, gentle and warm. He watched you walk across your bedroom, your hair falling perfectly, your skin glowing in the morning light. The sight of you always made Miguel’s heart leap into his throat.

The Spider Society Leader had discovered you by mistake while scanning the multiverse for anomalies, and from the moment he saw you, he knew he had to have you.

He adored the way you laughed, the way you moved, the way you said his name—even though it wasn’t him you were addressing.

“Hmm… yes, mi amor. I’m getting up,” came the familiar, sleepy voice of Miguel’s own. The one who looked like him but lacked everything that made him, him. The sight made his blood boil.

It was the other Miguel—the human version of himself from Earth-956. The weak, pathetic variant that didn’t deserve you. Miguel watched as this powerless copy of himself, with glasses and a smaller physique, shuffled into the frame, hugging you from behind.

Miguel’s red eyes narrowed in anger, growling in envy when Earth-956 Miguel nuzzled your neck, his hands stroking your stomach. The human Miguel pressed his cheek to yours, his voice low and apologetic. “Are you angry with me, mi amor?”

“No, of course not.” You hastily replied, but there was a sadness in your voice that Miguel could hear clearly, even if your husband couldn’t. “I just… I miss you.”

The human Miguel kissed the side of your neck, his affection weak and empty.

Pathetic.

“It’s just another project. I promise, I'll try not to work late.”

‘La perra débil siempre dice esto.’ Miguel thought, the rage in him bubbling up. This other version of himself was throwing away everything that mattered—you—and for what? More time at Alchemax? More time busying himself with chemicals and useless projects? More nights away from his precious wife?

It made Miguel sick.

You pulled away from your husband, the hurt in your eyes piercing Miguel’s heart. “I just want my husband back,” you said, your voice brittle as you walked out of the bedroom. The human Miguel didn’t chase after you. He simply stood there, devastated, watching your retreating form before getting dressed for work.

Miguel clenched his fists, his sharp talons digging into his palms, enough to draw blood. Hearing the sadness and longing in your voice tore him apart. You needed someone to comfort you, to love you, to give you the affection you deserved.

Something Miguel desired in you just as deeply…

Earth-956 Miguel didn’t deserve you. He didn’t know how to love you, how to keep you.

But Miguel O’Hara did…

You wanted a child, and Earth-956 Miguel couldn’t even give you that. All his time was spent in the labs, toiling away at meaningless work while you were left alone at home.

It made Miguel furious. Angry growls slipped past his lips at the sight of his weaker counterpart, so blissfully ignorant of what he had.

Miguel’s mind raced. The thought had been gnawing at him for weeks, the seed of an insane idea growing until it consumed him entirely.

He could take Earth-956 Miguel’s place. Just for a day—even a moment—and he could give you the child you wanted, the life you deserved. It would be so easy—pose as him, slip into your world while the weakling wasted his life at Alchemax.

He would make you his, and you wouldn’t even know the difference…

Miguel O'Hara knew the risks. He’d attempted happiness before, only for the universe to deny him, taking his daughter and leaving him colder and emptier.

So yes, he was afraid…

But the sound of your weeping from the guest bedroom, and the sight of Earth-956 Miguel leaving the house, the door locking behind him, only solidified Miguel’s decision.

“I’m coming, mi amor,” he whispered to your sobbing form on the screen, his fingers reaching out to the holographic display, aching to console you, to erase all the sadness from your life—knowing he would, soon enough.

“I’m coming.”

You grumbled, picking up another of Miguel's many shoes left astray in front of the bed. ‘Can’t you clean up after yourself?’ you thought, understanding your husband’s passion for his work, but growing frustrated with his workaholic tendencies.

‘It always leads to this,’ you sighed, carrying the shoes to the foyer, where you neatly placed them on the shoe rack.

Dusting off your hands, you glanced around the home you and your husband shared. It was spacious, with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, dining room, living room, and even a study for Miguel—though he hardly used it.

Your eyes drifted over the large portraits hanging on the walls of the foyer, giving anyone who visited the impression of a happy, loving couple.

But that wasn’t your reality anymore…

The huge grins, loving gazes, and passionate kisses captured in the photos were like scenes from a forgotten fairy tale. Now, you could only hope your husband makes it home for supper and wouldn’t fall asleep at the dining table.

Your heart sank at the revelation.  What happened? Where did things go wrong between you and your beloved?

Is he falling out of love?

Has he found someone new?

Is he…

Cheating?

A tremor of fear ran through your body, making you ache.

But deep down, you knew the cause of your marriage’s decline.

A child…

Ever since you and Miguel married two years ago, you both dreamed of having a baby—someone to love and cherish, knowing it was the embodiment of your shared adoration.

But no matter how hard you tried, it never happened.

After countless failed attempts and doctors offering no explanations or solutions, Miguel eventually gave up on the idea of having a child. His voice was filled with defeat when he said it was impossible. He couldn’t even meet your eyes that night.

Devastation didn’t begin to cover how you felt.

Since then, it seemed as if Miguel had given up on everything, including your relationship.

Now, your once passionate marriage felt like a hollow shell.

Fighting back tears, you turned away from the photos that once told the story of your happy marriage and headed into the living room. Settling onto the sofa, you wiped your wet cheeks, trying to erase the traces of your sorrow.

“Television always helps,” you muttered, forcing a small smile as you pulled a throw blanket over your body, dressed comfortably in a matching shirt and shorts.

You grabbed the remote and quickly found a show you liked, hoping it would distract you from the heaviness in your chest. For a while, it worked—laughter bubbled out of you, the show helping you forget your pain, even if just for a moment.

But then a single tear slipped down your cheek, betraying the sadness still lurking beneath.

“Aww, man, was that seriously the last episode?” you sighed, realizing you’d soon run out of shows if you kept binge-watching like this.

Reaching for your glass and the wine bottle, you frowned when both were empty. You’d only just opened that bottle, hadn’t you?

You gave the bottle a little shake, hearing the last few drops swish inside. The desire for just more wine, for that brief numbness, tugged at you.

Glancing at your phone, you saw the time: 7:10 p.m.

“Gosh, Miguel wouldn’t like me going out this late—especially just for wine,” you pouted. But the craving was strong.

“It’ll just be a quick run,” you began to reason, but your thoughts were interrupted by a sound. ‘Did the door just open?’ You couldn’t believe it—Miguel never came home this early.

“Cariño, I’m home!” 

The familiar voice of your husband filled the house, confirming your suspicions. Hastily, you stood and moved to the foyer, bare feet padding against the floor until you came face-to-face with him.

In utter disbelief, you watched as he took off his black oxfords, placing them neatly on the shoe stand. “I... I thought you were working late today,” you uttered as he turned to face you.

The trench coat, beige collared shirt, and brown slacks he wore seemed to hug him tightly, accentuating muscles that appeared more defined than usual. You pushed aside the hidden admiration for your husband’s new physique and walked over to him.

“Have you been working out lately? You seem… bigger,” you remarked, reaching to help him remove his coat, carefully sliding it off his broad shoulders before hanging it up.

Oddly, Miguel didn’t respond. He just stared at you, silent.

Raising an eyebrow, you glanced over your shoulder at him, worry creeping into your features. “Miggy… are you okay?”

Miguel O’Hara watched you—the woman he’d dreamed of, the one he’d longed to be close to—as you moved around him, touching him, so unaware of the truth.

Miguel had followed his plan perfectly. He’d completed his tasks at the Spider Society, disabled LYLA with a fake technical error, and entered Earth-956. 

Tracking down his human counterpart at Alchemax had been almost too easy. Creeping through the lab’s vents and knocking the weakling out with a blow to the head felt strangely satisfying.

After undressing his unconscious self and stealing his car, Miguel was able to escape the place unnoticed and haul the man into the backseat.

As he headed to his human variant's home, where you sat possibly watching television like you always did, Miguel felt his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

‘Would I be able to pull this off?’  

‘What if she finds out and I scare her shitless?’  

‘What if I lose her like Gabriella?’

Miguel’s mind raced, the last thought a hard pill to swallow. His large hands gripped the steering wheel, feeling the leather buckle under his strength. “Whatever happens, I did it for her happiness—my happiness…” he whispered, pulling into the driveway of his human self’s home.

For the first time in a long while, Miguel felt that familiar flutter in his chest. Amidst the butterflies of nervousness and fear in his stomach was one of anticipation.

Placing in the brown contacts that he’d made last minute to hide his red irises and removing the black square frames from his sleeping, pathetic variant, he gazed at himself in the car mirror. There, he found himself—but not truly him.

Just a version of Miguel you would believe in…

A weaker variant of himself, the Spider Society Leader was willing to be for you.

And for you, he stood in the foyer, gazing at the woman he knew like the back of his hand, yet he was an imposter inside your own home.

Shaking off the stupor, he cleared his throat. “Sí, I am, mi amor,” he assured fondly, giving you a smile that showed none of his fanged teeth.

You slowly nodded, believing it was the stress, returning to smoothing out his coat on the stand. “Well, there are leftovers in the fridge. You’ll have to warm them up—” A gasp escaped you when his large arms engulfed your center, hugging you from behind.

His body heat overwhelmed you, your husband’s hardened chest pressing into your backside, allowing you to feel every ridge of his abs and pecs—a musculature that you never knew was so defined. “M-Miggy…?” You called him in confusion, but you didn’t deny how your face filled with warmth at his touch.

You leaned back into his chest, your eyes fluttering closed as his cologne of sandalwood mixed with spicy undertones filled your senses, his scent always making you melt. The way he embraced you felt different from this morning, making you feel cherished and loved for the first time in a long while.

“Hmm?” Miguel hummed in response, running his broad nose under your jaw and along your neck, inhaling you deeply. You smelled just as sweet and felt as soft as he thought you’d be.

His rough hands stroked your stomach through your shirt and circled your navel with his thumb. “How have you been today, mi amor?” he purred into your ear. “I know I don’t ask a lot, and I’m sorry.” Miguel muttered, giving your smaller body a gentle squeeze.

Your heart clenched at his question of concern, as he’d never asked before. “I’ve been…fine,” you lied, as usual, never wanting to worry him. Placing a hand over his, you traced the ridges of his knuckles and interlocked your fingers with his, not remembering the last time he touched and explored your body. 

A disapproving growl, almost animalistic, rang from his chest at your answer. “No me mientas, bebé. Be honest with me,” he scolded softly, his rough hand engulfing yours, running his thumb over your knuckles.

You bit your lip, unsure about being honest. However, he felt different today…

More caring, affectionate, loving…

Just like he was all those years ago.

“I…I felt…terrible,” you confessed aloud for the first time in years. “I-I was looking at our…pictures, and I couldn’t help wondering what happened to us, Miggy?” You asked, pulling out of his hold to turn to face him.

Keeping your hands in his, you gazed up at your husband, your eyes taking in his tired features and, despite attempting to be neat, messy hair. “Did I upset you? Anger you? You desperately asked. “Do you not…love me anymore because I was unable to grant you what you…wanted?” A broken sob you’d been trying to hold back tumbled free, followed by streams of tears.

At the sight of your tears, Miguel felt utterly devastated, each sob from your pretty lips bringing him immense pain he had never experienced before. He immediately sought to silence your cries. ‘Bebé, what you’re saying is tontería. It’s not true,’ he said softly, cupping your face and swiftly wiping the endless tears from your cheeks.”

You shook your head, crying in his hold. “H-how? You've done n-nothing but avoid me, Miggy,” you explained, your cheeks rosy and your eyes glossy. “You constantly stay at work, miss dinner, and I know y-you try, but at times I feel like…I feel like you do not love me. Not like you used to.”

Miguel watched with a mixture of sorrow and anger at the byproduct of his pathetic human self's actions. ‘How dare he hurt you so much? How dare he cause you to shed a single tear?’ he thought, wanting to erase your sadness, starting with removing these delusions.

Earth-956 Miguel probably avoided you, stayed at work, and missed supper—hell, the bastard possibly didn’t love you anymore—but Miguel O'Hara did.

He fell in love the moment he saw you…

Without warning, he pulled you close, his lips claiming yours in an instant, quieting your worries and cries.

He swallowed the surprised gasp you gave him as his hands cradled your face in his palms. Miguel wanted to cease your doubts about not being loved and to show you exactly who you belonged to.

Your eyes widened, your brain unable to keep up. ‘Miguel… is kissing me!?’ You were shocked.

It had been so long since your husband showed his adoration, let alone kissed you like you were his. Your heart fluttered, hands tentatively moving to grip his beige shirt, bunching the fabric at his hips to tug him closer.

This moment felt so surreal; just this morning, you had been arguing like always. Now he was showering you with the love you had been craving for years.

“Miguel…” You whimpered, your much smaller fingers clawing at him, from his biceps to his hips and chest in desperation. The sensation made him harden under his slacks.

Suddenly, as if a switch had flipped, the restraint Miguel had melted away. He grunted against your lips, pushing you against the wall with enough force to send your couple portraits rattling. Like a beast, Miguel was atop you once more, his massive body trapping you beneath him.

“Careful!” You giggled, but were instantly silenced by another bruising kiss.

Your husband’s kisses were deep and demanding, as if he were trying to memorize the feel and taste of you. His hands explored your body with a possessiveness that made your head spin, gripping your ass and sliding up your back as if he couldn’t get enough.

Every touch, every kiss was rougher and more insistent, much different from the loving and gentle intimacy he had shown you in the past.

A breathy moan escaped your parted lips when Miguel’s large hands engulfed your breasts, kneading them roughly through the fabric of your shirt. “Goodness, Miguel… I didn’t expect you to be like this.” You panted between sloppy kisses, believing it was the lack of intimacy that was causing this new and more passionate display of affection.

Miguel simply grunted in response, the Spider Society Leader completely blinded by lust. One hand left your chest to grip a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back to expose your bare neck. At the sight of your untouched skin, Miguel practically salivated, attacking your throat.

You gasped, biting your lip when he pulled your hair. The slight sting on your scalp was a foreign sensation that you instantly adored. Humming in bliss, his lips along your throat made your head foggy, as if he were kissing your very soul.

“I’ve been neglecting you, babygirl, haven’t I?” Miguel asked, trailing his fangs along your skin, feeling you tremble at the sensation. The sweet nod you gave made his heart clench, fueling his desire further. “Let me make it up to you, cariño.” He purred, nipping harshly at your neck, leaving red love bites that he lapped at to soothe you, his discretion forgotten.

You whimpered, unsure of what you were feeling in your overwhelming state. “M-Miguel…” His name was all you could breathe, your nipples hardening under your shirt, clearly displaying your lack of a bra underneath.

Miguel’s mouth halted, ready to add another mark to your precious neck when his eyes snapped down to your chest, noticing the peaks. He smirked, pulling away to meet your hooded gaze. “Mi chica traviesa, traviesa,” he cooed, marveling at your breasts. “It seems you want me more than I believed.” Miguel teased, cupping your breasts and thumbing the hardened nubs.

You moaned, his touch sending tingles throughout your being. Gazing into the eyes of your husband, you discovered pure ravenous need staring back at you—a look you had never seen before, but it made you wetter than ever.

“I do; I’ve wanted you for a while, my love.” You genuinely told him, sticking to the agreement of honesty between the two of you.

However, your eyes widened, and your body warmed in pleasure as Miguel swiped his tongue along your cheek, coating your face with his warm saliva.

“Fuck, cariño, I’m one lucky bastard—” he rambled, kissing your lips, cheeks, neck, and collarbone, seeming to be everywhere at once, his hands following suit. “To have such an incredible, loving, and sexy wife.” Miguel muttered, leaving your breasts unattended as his hand descended lower, causing your heart to thump loudly in your chest.

“Joder, cómo tuvo tanta suerte?” he hissed, your husband’s words falling on deaf ears when his hand cupped your sex, making you squeak in surprise.

Moaning, he began to rub you, his palm pressing into your throbbing bud. “Hmm, I love you so much, esposa. Do you love me?” Miguel asked, his deep voice airy and full of lust, seeking your love.

Your mind was jumbled, unable to think of an answer when your touch-starved body was finally getting the attention it craved. Frantically, you nodded, grinding on his palm. “Y-Yes, always.”

The Spider Society Leader cursed under his breath, your shared adoration being what he had always wanted to hear from your pretty lips.

‘Shit, I can’t wait any longer,’ he thought, feeling the drool trickling down his jaw, his cock leaking precum inside his slacks, and talons threatening to extend from the tips of his fingers if he didn’t have you.

Right at this very moment…

“I need you, mi amor,” Miguel growled in a strained voice, a yelp escaping you when he hoisted you up in his arms. 

Your legs clung to his waist, arms wrapping around his neck as his large hands grasped the underside of your thighs. A blush sprouted on your cheeks at the feeling of his erection throbbing against your core.

For the first time, when you looked at your husband, he appeared alive and energetic; even his skin seemed to be glowing.

You didn't know what had happened today at work to cause such a change, but nonetheless, you were beyond thankful for it.

Giving him a nod, you claimed his lips once more, needing him just the same.

Miguel smirked against your mouth, effortlessly carrying you through the dim hallways of your home.

His legs wandered the place like he always lived there, climbing the stairs with ease while satisfying your craving for his lips. Miguel devoured your pretty mouth, kissing and suckling your eager tongue that yearned for him as he did for you.

Upon reaching your shared bedroom, Miguel kicked open the door, not hesitating to toss you onto the bed.

You laughed as you landed on the mattress, feeling it sink under your weight. Laying on your back, your legs sprawled beneath you, your eyes peered teasingly up at your spouse. “You are being so rough… I kinda like it,” you told him with a smirk.

Miguel snickered, a hidden excitement in the back of his mind at the knowledge of not truly being your husband, yet you were enjoying everything he was giving you.

“Good,” the Spider Society Leader purred, removing his shirt with an effortless pull at the lapels of his button-up. Buttons flew, and fabric tore, but Miguel couldn’t be bothered; his eyes were trained on you.

His loving wife.

Your eyes widened, every moment with your spouse surprising you. “Miguel, your shirt—” Your words fell flat, practically choking when he revealed himself to you.

Removing the remnants of the destroyed button-up, your husband’s chest was on full display.

With an agape mouth and gaze of astonishment, you gawked at his defined pectoral muscles, the evident 8-pack that flexed with every movement, the pulsating veins from his burly arms, and lastly, how hairy your husband was.

Dark brown coarse hair covered his chest and descended from his navel, under his slacks, practically making you drool.

The amount of body hair was unlike him, knowing he was always about being clean and neat, but tonight, he had been different ever since he stepped through the door.

Perhaps this new him was everything you had ever wanted…

“I see someone has been… making some changes without my knowledge,” you said, trying to hide how arousing his rugged appearance was. “You've also been working out, it seems.”

Miguel raised a thick eyebrow, glancing down at his hairy body that was full of rippling muscles and sinewy limbs that coursed with the power from his mutation.

He wanted to mentally curse, knowing his muscular body type was too extreme compared to Earth-956 Miguel’s, your rightful husband.

But when the Spider Society Leader met your gaze of desire and saw how you bit your lip, it brought the beast out of him once more.

Abruptly, Miguel joined you on the bed, his body atop yours. He kissed along your neck and lapped at the previous markings he had given you. “Yeah, you like?” Miguel hummed.

You nodded, cupping his face. “Yes, but not as much as this,” you muttered, running a hand along his hairy chest, feeling the coarse strands tickle your palm.

I like this new you,” you whispered, meeting his glasses-covered eyes. “You should show this side of yourself more, hm?” Teasingly, you added, giggling as you reached out to remove his black square glasses and set them on your nightstand, eager to see your husband’s sexy features without the frames.

Miguel’s heart skipped a beat at your words, falling in love with you even more.

He pulled you into a searing kiss, groaning into your mouth and finding himself incapable of getting used to the sweet taste of you. His hands moved down to grab the front of your shirt; with ease, he tore open the fabric, releasing your bare breasts.

Your reaction was cut short as your husband descended down your body, sucking a tit into his mouth.

Whimpering, your fingers gripped the strands of his dark brown hair, tugging and holding him close. A nip from his very sharp teeth on your hardened peaks made you yelp

Miguel chuckled, swirling his tongue around your aching nipple, calming the sting from his bite. “You’re even more perfect than I’ve imagined,” he muttered against your skin, pulling away to gaze down at you.

Your spouse’s hands hastily began to unbuckle and unzip his pants to free his throbbing cock. “Undress, mi amor.” His words caused your heart to skip a beat. “Show me the pussy that belongs to me.”

Your chest heaved, your thighs sticky with arousal that ached for your husband. Looking up at him, you couldn’t help but marvel at the idea of him being yours to love for the rest of your life— a thought you believed had faded years ago but was restored on this very night.

Matching his pace, you swiftly tugged your shirt off, freeing your bare breasts, and shimmied off your shorts to expose your legs and clothed pussy.

The Spider Society Leader groaned, your arousal filling his nose. “Fuck, you smell so good, bonita.” He purred, removing his boxers and pants to finally relieve his throbbing cock.

Your gaze traveled over your husband’s shaft, noticing it was surrounded by a bush of pelvic hair and seemed bigger and thicker than you remembered, believing it was due to his arousal. You bit your lip at the effect you had on him. “Gosh, I missed you so much,” you told him lovingly, spreading your legs and revealing your soaked panties.

A groan escaped Miguel at your words, precum dripping down his length at the sight of you.

He felt a burning in his chest to allow his true self to break free, to ravage you like the beast he knew he was and grant you what you desired.

And so he did...

His red eyes, concealed by brown contact lenses, darkened, and a growl escaped him. “You missed me, cariño?” he asked with a dark smirk, not bothering to hide his fangs that dripped with venom. “Then show me,” Miguel chuckled, stepping back to allow you room to obey his command. “On all fours. Ass up.”

Your eyebrows furrowed for a moment; the authoritative tone in his voice was unlike anything you’d ever heard from your husband. You watched with hidden interest as he stood behind you, stroking his large shaft, precum dripping onto the floor. Miguel’s eyes were narrowed, his face stern while waiting for you to comply. 

You might not have experienced this new act of intimacy your spouse was showing you, but you didn’t want to disappoint him—not when you were so close to having him be yours again…

Moving into position, you turned to balance on your hands and knees, your rear facing your husband as he requested. Glancing over your shoulder at him, you felt a sense of satisfaction wash over you at his look of approval. “Good girl,” he praised, biting your lip when the bed creaked behind you, his body heat engulfing you from behind.

Miguel eyed his sweet wife, running his large palm along the rear of the woman that was now his. He  knew that once he claimed you, you’d never go back to the pathetic version of him known as your husband. 

The Spider Society Leader ran a thumb along your clothed core, feeling it quiver under his digit. ��Hmm... this pussy is begging for me, isn’t it, amor?” he laughed, sliding your panties to the side to reveal your dripping entrance.

Your breath hitched as the cold air brushed against your exposed intimate area. “Yes, Miguel, please. I need you,” you begged, arching your back and pushing your rear further towards him.

Miguel felt his heart skip a beat, the sight in front of him being every image that filled his mind when he jerked off at night. The pleading that left your pretty lips for him was what he fantasized about while fighting anomalies. This sight before him was everything he’d ever wanted, and now it was actually happening.

‘Fuck, this has to be a dream,’ he thought, even when he knew it wasn’t. “Please, Miggy. Don’t make me wait any longer,” you begged once more, your words going straight to his cock.

“Mierda,” he cursed, lining himself up and sinking into your delectable hole. Miguel growled, filling you instantly. “Joder, estás tan apretado, cariño,” he groaned, unable to wait as he slowly pulled out and slammed back in.

You moaned, your back arching at how good your husband made you feel. “Miguel! G-Goodness!” you cried out, not remembering the last time you both were intimate in this manner. 

However, this time felt different—more intense, more desperate.

Your voice reached a pitch you never thought possible as his shaft penetrated deeper inside you, his hands gripping your arms and pinning them to your back.Your ass was raised higher for your spouse, your face pressed into the mattress as inaudible moans escaped you with the change of angle.

The dominance he showcased was so unlike what you were used to, but it was something you instantly enjoyed.

Miguel bit his lip harshly, his grip tightening around your arms. “You like that? Like how my cock feels inside you, miel?” he asked, giving your ass a smack at your lack of response. The frantic nods and exclamations of agreement from your gaping mouth only increased Miguel’s effort.

His hips snapped, thrusting into his sweet wife. The clenching of your pussy around his shaft was intoxicating, his cock plunging into your soppy cunt. 

The sounds of wet skin and your gushing pussy bounced off the walls of your bedroom along with your combined cries.

“Yes, yes, yes!” you chanted, nails digging into your palms, your eyes rolling when the tip of your husband’s cock kissed your cervix. “Gosh! M-M-Miggy, I-I have to cum!” you choked, saliva trickling down your mouth, burying your face into the bed to muffle your cries. 

With a scream, your release crashed over you. Your body thrashed and quivered, your eyes squeezing shut as the intense tingles of pleasure coursed through you.

Your juices spilled down your trembling thighs as you felt your husband pull away, leaving you to catch your breath.

Breathing heavily, your body remained kneeled, back arched and face resting on the bed, your messy hair shielding your features. The aftershocks of your orgasm were more extreme than you’d ever felt before and it left you in utter ecstasy. 

Feeling pleased, you looked over your shoulder at your husband through your disheveled strands to find a surprising sight.

He was still... 

energetic.

“Do you still want more, my love?” you asked breathlessly in sheer amazement.

Your husband usually needed to rest after granting you one round of intimacy, requiring a moment of recovery. But tonight, he was changed...

Miguel groaned, his cock still aching for more of you. The desire he felt from the intimacy with you was still at an all-time high. “Always, I always want more, baby,” he breathed, releasing your arms to join you on the bed.

He tugged you to rest your back against his chest, your body molding perfectly to his hardened one. His hand lifted your leg, sliding his rigid cock along your slit and teasing you with his thick member. “I know you’ve always wanted a little one, mi amor,” Miguel whispered into your ear. 

“Why don’t we try one more time?”

Your eyes widened at your husband’s words, the shock and pleasure blending perfectly. Resting on your side, you cupped his face behind you, searching his features to ensure he was serious. “A-Are you sure? You... believed it wasn’t... meant to be years ago,” you told him between soft moans, the gentle peck on your temple from your spouse confirming your suspicions.

“I know, bebé. But I want to make you happy,” Miguel said, his gaze boring into yours, seeing the hope and love blooming inside. “I want to give you what you deserve, mi amor—what we deserve.”

To emphasize his words, he pushed into you once more, filling you to the hilt. You moaned; the eye contact between the two of you unbreaking as your husband thrust into you. His hand held your thigh, spreading you perfectly to take his cock with ease.

Your cries and the sound of your pussy’s squelching were music to Miguel’s ears, his fingers digging into the softness of your leg enough to bruise. “Fuck, you feel so good, cariño,” he growled, pounding into you vigorously.

Your eyes fluttered, instantly feeling that familiar burning in your stomach again “I-I’m close, M-Miggy,” you whined, your body very responsive and sensitive due to your lack of intimacy as of late.

Miguel snarled, increasing his pace. He buried his face in your hair, his balls slapping against your ass. “Cariño, I want you... to remember this moment,” he growled, his shaft pounding into you at an inhumane speed.

“When you become pregnant with our child, I want you to remember this—remember me,” he said, pulling away to use his other hand to grab a fistful of your hair, tugging you back to meet his eyes.

“I want you to know that it was I who made you happy—who granted you the child you've always wanted.” His words were punctuated with each rapid and precise thrust that took your breath away.

His fingers tightened in your hair as the ache in his groin and the tightening sensation of his balls grew. “Do you understand me, amor?” Miguel asked through parted lips, his fangs peeking out, but he doubted you’d noticed in your state.

He stared into the depths of your glazed eyes, hoping you’d grant his wish of being remembered even after he departed. 

You gazed at your husband, your heart skipping a beat. His words seemed to hold a deeper meaning, spoken in a manner that felt wistful, but you hoped you were wrong, blaming it on the fuzziness in your brain.

His groans and continuous thrusts made your stomach burn with pleasure as you nodded. When you looked at your husband, even in his disheveled state, you couldn’t deny that he looked sexier than ever.

Tonight, every feature about him made you fall in love all over again—from his messy hair and amber eyes to his defined cheekbones and large frame that always made you feel small yet guarded and protected.

Tonight, your husband rekindled your adoration for him and your marriage, which was everything you didn’t know you needed.

“Y-yes…” you replied amidst the wet slapping of skin. “I’ll r-remember, for y-you.”

Miguel’s heart clenched, his movements halting as you looked up at him in utter infatuation—a look he believed was meant for him, not the Earth-956 Miguel.

The hot-tempered and controlling Spider Society Leader had finally found what he was looking for: 

you.

Miguel groaned, smashing his lips against yours and moving in deep, slow thrusts. He wanted you to feel every moment.

When your spouse kissed you, it wasn’t filled with hunger and desperation like before; it was loving, which almost made you tear up.

The change in pace allowed you to relish every part of your husband, feeling the ridges and veins of his cock, the sheer girth of him, how he stretched you out perfectly and touched your G-spot so well that it made your toes curl.

It wasn’t long before you felt that high again—that need to release. “I-I’m cumming, M-Miggy, I’m cumming,” you said in a shaky voice, lying on your side with his muscular frame behind you, holding you close and showing his love with each pound of his cock.

The Spider Society Leader kissed your cheek as you shook in his hold, allowing your orgasm to overwhelm you. The way you screamed his name was everything to him; for once, you were addressing him, and he was no longer on the outside looking in.

Following your release, Miguel sped up. With a hiss, his shaft returned to its bestial pace, fucking into you like an animal in heat.

But it wasn’t long before the Spider Society Leader joined you in bliss.

With a deep thrust, a loud guttural groan erupted from his chest, releasing his load into you, filling you completely.

You moaned, arching your back against him, feeling yourself being stuffed. Your eyes squeezed shut in exhaustion as Miguel slowly pulled out.

Miguel brushed your hair from your face, taking in your stunning features. His heart clenched as he pressed gentle kisses on your shoulder and cheek, relishing each peck, knowing it would have to be his last.

He slowly rose to his full height, running his hand along your thighs and caressing your belly, hoping that by leaving a piece of him with you, it would grant you the happiness he wouldn’t be able to provide due to his absence.

Your husband’s loving touches comforted you. Sighing in relief, you felt him cover you with a blanket, the fabric soothing your jittery being. With a flick of a lamp, your bedroom was encased in darkness, except for the light beaming from Miguel’s side of the bed.

You could hear him moving around, making sure you were comfortable and content. However, when your eyes opened, you found him tugging on his pants, his massive body blocking the light as he put on his bottoms.

“Where are you…going?” you asked, the worry and sadness evident in your voice, Hastily, you sat up, tugging the blanket over your body, aware your hair looked like a total mess from your shared intimacy.

You didn’t want to go back to the ruin of your marriage, sleeping separately, with one of you in the guest bedroom while the other lay here.

You didn’t want to return to a marriage in which you weren’t happy, hoping your husband felt the same.

The longing for him was what Miguel feared. He couldn’t stay, no matter how much he wanted to.

But when he looked back at you sitting up in bed, your sad eyes practically on the verge of tears at his leaving made the thought of denying you impossible.

Smiling, he returned, crawling onto the bed and wrapping you in his arms. His arms engulfed you, holding you and seeking to not let you go anytime soon.

“Thank you,” you whispered, snuggling closer and resting your face on his chest.

“Anything for you, mi amor.” His response making your heart flutter.

You lay with your husband, listening to his deep breathing and the faint thumping of his heart, feeling safe in his arms.

“I hope this moment never ends,” you said aloud, your fingers dancing across his defined abs and relishing in the expanse of muscle that encased you. 

Miguel took in your words and your hopes for this moment to last forever. Oblivious, you didn’t realize that desiring more of this moment meant wanting him, not your previous husband.

Glancing down at your form resting atop him, Miguel couldn’t help but let another insane thought creep into his mind.

It was perfect—perhaps a little wicked and cruel—but he was doing this for you. 

And your little one…

With a dark smirk, he tightened his arm around your waist, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple.

“Sí, let’s make this moment last forever…mi eposa…” 

A/N: That concludes “You’re Not My Husband!” Goodness, writing both Miguel as a human and as Spider-Man 2099 was a joy! I especially like the difference between the two. If you enjoyed it just as much as I did, please like, comment, reblog, and follow!

I’ll be making a separate post, but Happy Birthday to the love of my life, Miguel O'Hara!! ❤️😘💙

If you’re excited to see what else my older sister, @powerful-niya, and I have in store for Vicetober, stay tuned. 😈

Hope everyone has a wonderful day! Stay safe!!

<3 Taglist:

@oscarissac2099 @powerful-niya @szapizzapanda @mcmiracles @mreowmoreww @thedeva @jadeloverxd @lazyotakuofficial @migueloharacumslut @nattywatty @homewreckingwreck @kinkybandages @prazinos @huniedeux @impossiblebagelcowboyfreak @anniee-mr @crimin4llyins4ne @lynxslokley @rice-wife @oharafilipinawife @migueloharastruelove @rodriash002 @e1f-boi @user3732094737 @truth-dare-spin-bottle @taleiak @alurafairy @ddreabea @saturnistireddd @reader-1290 @laysmt @reader-1290

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[allthingsfangirl101]

Glen Powell Imagines Masterlist

Contains SMUT*

Holidays marked with Emojis: Imagines Christmas-🎄 Valentine’s-❤️ New Year’s-🎉 Fourth of July-🇺🇸 Spicy (SMUT)-🌶

Requests are open. Message me on here or Wattpad.

Glen Powell Imagines

Unlike Anyone Else

Bother Me

Home For Christmas 🎄

All I Want

A Night On The Couch

Friendly Set-Up

Wedding Nerves

A Not-So-Lonely Valentine's Day ❤️

Big Brother's Wedding, Part 2

Tyler Owens Imagines

Frozen In Time

Hypocritical Tornado Wrangler

Car Troubles, Part 2

Unlikely Hero

My Archenemy

Not The Abandoning Type

Jake "Hangman" Seresin – Top Gun Imagines

Not Hangman To Her

Baby Mav, Part 2

Familiar Faces, Part 2

Hey, Bartender, Part 2

Hitman - Gary Johnson Imagines

A Different Kind of Client, Part 2

A Little Over Protective, Part 2

Full of Surprises

Number 1 Client, Part 2

Charlie (Set It Up) Imagines

Misery Loves Company

🌶 Spicy Glen Powell Imagines🌶

Neighbors With Benefits 🌶 (Glen)

About Damn Time 🌶 (Jake Seresin)

Little Bit of Help 🌶 (Glen)

[kyokutsu-sama]

Hello! How are you? It's the first time I'm making a request, I hope you can understand my English because it's not my first language (I'm Brazilian). I would like to request a headcanon for Nozel, Fuegoleon, William, Julius. They invite their s/o to dinner for the first time after confessing to her, they then go to the restaurant to wait for her but realize that their s/o is late and they think she is rejecting them, but then, someone warns them that there is a fight going on in a part of the city and when they get there, s/o is fighting someone. She was attacked by someone who doesn't like the boys and decides to hurt her to hurt them (I hope that makes sense).

I really hope you managed to understand! Sometimes English is complicated for me! Love your blog! ❤️❤️

Hii!! I'm glad that you like my blog and you don't need to worry about your english because I understand it very well. Your english is very good❤️✨️

I hope you like what I wrote😊

_____________________________

Fuegoleon :

Fuegoleon had invited his girlfriend to their first dinner together. He was very anxious and couldn't wait for her to arrive soon, since he had been the first to arrive at the place. It turns out that he was waiting and waiting and nothing, so he started to get worried. He then decided to go out to look for you. As he was leaving the street, there was a loud explosion coming from the other side of the city and he went to see what it was. He arrived at the place where the noise came from and saw her standing, panting and with small wounds after having knocked down a malefactor who had intended to hurt her to cause distress to the captain. Hurting his loved one for not liking him was definitely a bad idea. Fuegoleon quickly intervened, taking her with one arm close to him and tying the man up with his magic, so that he would be caught by the other magic knights and pay for his actions. "Are you okay, dear?" The captain asked, combing her hair with his fingers, gently. "I think we have to take you to a doctor, you're bleeding here." He said, looking at the wound she had on her arm "No need, it was just a scratch. I'm fine!" She insisted but he shook his head "Don't be stubborn Y/n, let's go to Doctor Owen. He can help you. Come!" The captain took her in his arms and took her there with the salamander Fuegoleon was relieved to know that she was not in danger (and especially the fact that she hadn't rejected him like he was thinking moments ago in the restaurant😅)

Julius :

Julius was smiling to himself, all excited, like a child as he waited for his loved one at the restaurant after they both agreed on dinner. The wizard king was very happy after she agreed to date him and couldn't wait to be with her again. Julius looked at the clock several times and each minute that passed seemed painful since she was taking so long The wizard king had a strange feeling, probably even a premonition, he thought. He got up from the table and went outside to the center of the capital city where he knew she was and when he got there, he realized that his prediction was right. She seemed busy. He noticed that the guy who was on the ground had already gotten up and was now heading towards her again, he knew she was strong but he still couldn't help but interfere. Julius used his restriction magic (chrono stasis) to immobilize the man and later, the magic knights arrived to take him away. "You had a little problem here." The wizard king approached her and she hugged him. "Are you okay?" "Yes, now I am. You saved me! This idiot wanted to hurt me because he didn't like you and so he thought it would be good to do it to me." She explained "I see...Well, it looks like unfortunately we'll have to leave dinner for another time, my dear. It looks like I'll have to have a long talk with that guy later." Julius said and she noticed the king's dark look in the man's direction She could already imagine that that man would never be seen in Clover again...

William :

William was swinging his foot under the table and his fingertips kept hitting the table, anxiously. He was a little nervous about his new girlfriend's delay. He had started dating her weeks ago and this would be their first dinner. William saw Yuno entering the restaurant and the boy arrived at his table to tell him the news of what was happening on the other side of the city with his beloved. She seemed to be facing someone who had tried to harm her. William thanked the boy for warning him and they both ran towards the location. William took her from his clutches and defeated the man who had hurt her. Shortly after the arrival of the knights of the golden dawn and the calming of the situation, he was always holding her in his arms to make her feel safe. "Are you feeling better?" The captain asked "Yes, thank you for coming to my rescue, I mean, I was doing well but he was just stubborn and didn't want to let go of me. He spoke badly about you too and maybe he was doing this to me to hurt you too but don't worry, I did my best against him." She winked and he gave a small smile "You did really well, without a doubt...but our dinner seems to have been ruined." He laughed, making her laugh too "It's okay, we'll schedule it for another day. For whenever you want, my dear." She said, holding his hand.

[elixirfromthestars]

Hello my lovelies!! 🩷 I've been meaning to host a sleepover since many milestones ago, but as I hit 800 followers recently, what's a more perfect time than now? ♡♡♡

This is my first time ever hosting a sleepover, and I am super excited! I will be accepting sleepover asks from now until the end of the day of the 16th of February. I’ll start answering asks starting the morning of the 14th — Valentine’s Day 💘✨ and spend all weekend answering asks and hanging out with everyone in my little sweetheart soirée sleepover. ♡♡♡

beautiful divider by @cafekitsune

⋆｡‧˚ʚ For Everyone ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Wine & Dine ⟢ Send me a 🍷 to chit chat and ask me anything you'd like to know regarding my writing, any of my existing fics, and/or any of my wips.

Gossip Circle ⟢ Send me a 💋 along with any headcannons you’d like to ask me to elaborate on! It can be for any of my existing fics, my AU’s, or general headcannons about characters I write for.

The Sweetheart's Book Club ⟢ Send me a 💘 along with one of your fics or someone else's fic you'd like to share with me and others!! Tell us all about it, what you thought about it, what you loved most, anything and everything you'd like to share so we can add these fics to our reading lists! ♡♡♡

Game of Hearts ⟢ Send me a 🎀 along with one of the following games: This or That || Never Have I Ever || FMK || Would You Rather?

Movie Night ⟢ What is a sleepover without a movie marathon? That is why I am hosting a cinema-themed writing challenge that you can find here: 🍫🌹💌💋❤️🧸

Dance the Night Away ⟢ Send me a 🎧 along with a song you'd like to add to our sweetheart soirée playlist! This is a sleepover with all my lovelies, so what songs should we add to our rotation? (If you'd like an idea on the vibe, think of what song you would play at like a Galentine's party.) I will compile them into a playlist that you can find here: 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋♬⋆.˚𝄢ᡣ𐭩

Date Night ⟢ Send me a 🏹 and I will set you up on a date with a character of your choosing! I want to practice making moodboards, so here's how this little matchmaking game will go: Think of what character you'd like to be paired up with. Next, spin this wheel to determine the kind of date you'll be going on. In the ask, let me know what character you have chosen, and what date the wheel has chosen for you and I will make you a moodboard with a little description on how the date went! If you'd like to keep the date a surprise, you can always let me know to spin the wheel for you! ♡♡♡

Full details for headcannons + moodboards can be found below!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ For My Mutuals Only ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Be My Valentine ⟢ If you send me a 💌, that means that on Valentine's Day, you will receive a cheesy/cute Valentine's card from me in your inbox along with a handwritten note. ♡♡♡

Playing Cupid ⟢ Send me a 🌹 and I will cast you in one of my existing fics or one of my wips! Let me know what character or characters you’d want to be paired up with, and then I will cast you in one of my daydreams ♡♡♡

Some Guidelines:

There is no limit to how many asks you can send. It’s a sleepover, so please have fun and send as many asks as you'd like!! ♡♡♡

Characters I write for: bucky barnes, steve rogers, matt murdock, peter parker, logan howlett, jake seresin, & tyler owens.

For headcannons, please stick to the characters I write for! Headcannon asks can be 18+, but I do not write dark stuff, so keep that in mind when sending asks!

For moodboards, you can ask for any marvel character, any fictional sebastian stan or chris evans character, any Top Gun Maverick character, and any character from Twisters 2024. You can also add in more details for some of them if you'd like. For example, one of the dates is a sports game date. If you have a sport in mind you can let me know, if not I will pick it! Other dates also have little details you can add in, so you are free to let me know! 🫶🏼

tagging some lovely mutuals in case they want to come to my sleepover: @elvenrin @flowersforbucky @buck-star @marvelstoriesepic @humanwip @thevillainswhore @whatever-lmaoo @nickfowlerrr @neverthatsirius-jo @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @mercurial-chuckles @navybrat817 @stellar-solar-flare @lomlbuckybarnes @perdidosbucky-yyo @barnesafterglow @thereoncewasagirlnamedjane @vintagebuckybarnes @mostly-marvel-musings @fvckingavengers @writing-for-marvel @nekoannie-chan @nameless-ken @malum-forev @missraion @sweetiebarnes @nicoline1998enilocin @drabblesandsnippets @amathslutsguidetofandom @multiversefanfics

[florencetypemaniacs]

How would the ROs react if their MC is a very affectionate person and they suddenly stop? Because someone told them that they are very annoying

💛 Marcel 

Marcel would try to handle this as delicately as possible when he first noticed it. He knows that relationships go through stages and wouldn't want you to feel like you were in the wrong for not being as affectionate as before, but he would miss it. 

I could see him trying to test the waters with his affection, wanting to know what you were okay with, which would bring up a conversation about what you were comfortable with. 

When he hears about what that person said, he is already shaking his head.

 "Don't listen to them. They don't know our relationship or us. Let us decide what is best for us, and what is best for me is for you to be yourself." Marcel said. "I don't need anyone telling you how to feel or how to act when everything you do is perfect." 

🧡 Margaret 

Margaret would notice that since she is also a very affectionate person, she would try and do the same, thinking that something was wrong with her. 

I think that you both would stew in angst and miscommunication until Marcel, Camila, or even your Aunt Zinnia made you confess what was going on before the relationship got too bad. 

When Margaret hears what that horrible woman said, she won't be able to stop herself from giving you comfort with sweet touches and words of her own. 

"I love you. This week has been miserable without your soothing touches." Margaret pouts. "Please don't stop." 

❤️ Owen

Yeah, to hell with that. Owen isn't that big on public displays, but the moment you stopped, he would find that he missed it. Especially in private. 

So Owen would grab you and hold you in his lap, asking you what was wrong the moment he saw your personality change. 

When the redhead finds out the reason you are acting strange, he will shake his head in disgust. 

"That bloody bastard. Ye listen here lass/lad/duck, I don't give a mules ass what that bastard said, I want anything you will offer me." He said it, his voice softening at the very end. "The kisses, tender words, and especially the love." 

💙 Rosemary

She could sense something was wrong from a mile away. You would be able to feel her eyes on you as you hesitated to show any kind of affection. 

Rosemary would swallow down the anxiety of you getting bored because you weren't like that. 

You loved her. 

Gently creasing your cheek. "Tell me, what's the matter? Why aren't you your usual affectionate self?" 

When you finally tell her, Rosemary is at a loss for words; she wants to walk out that door and find whoever said those lies to you. 

Rosemary shook her head, kissing you lightly. "I have spent my whole life wanting to feel someone's love and kindness, so don't you dare take that away from me, dollface/angel face/handsome because no good storyteller wants to stick their nose where it doesn't belong." 

🩵 Tai

Would think you were mad at him for something and try to figure out what. How could you withhold his kisses?! What evil thing did he do? 

In the end, when he couldn't figure it out, he had to ask you, and when he found out, he couldn't help but clench his fist, starting to pace. 

"That absolute imbecile." Tai would curse them out for a few minutes before looking at you with all seriousness. 

"Wipe those thoughts from your mind. They are all false. Your affection isn't unwanted. Not by me. Not ever." 

💚 Zane 

The minute this happens, Zane will know and not be happy. First off, Zane likes a routine, especially if you're affectionate for him (something he craves like a madman) goes away. He would not be able to stop himself from right out asking what was wrong. 

When he hears why you aren't being affectionate to him, he will grip your chin. "Listen to me, little lion, the moment I stop craving your love, strike me down where I stand for that is not me." 

The next thing you know, Zane is hunting this person down to give him peace of mind. 

[oskea93]

Kansas Anymore (4)

Tyler Owens x OC

Summary: In which Riley Owens, the ex-wife of the infamous Tornado Wrangler, has 36 hours to come to terms if moving to a whole new country with their small daughter is something she truly wants to do.

Warnings: Cursing, angst, suggested smut, fluff. ✶ Chapter One ✶ ✶ Chapter Two ✶ ✶ Chapter Three ✶

■ A/N: You guys are amazing! I just want to say thank you so much for loving this story and following the tale of Riley and Tyler ❤️ ■ Taglist is available - just drop a comment! Would love to hear your thoughts, questions, or maybe just drop by to say hello! Can't wait to hear from y'all

Word Count: 11491 ( super long flashback!)

TL:  @ellesmythe @18lkpeters @hookslove1592, @djs8891, @smoothdogsgirl @queenslandlover-93 @imjustamehbleh @love2write2626 @lt-jakeseresin @starcrossedtrek @kmc1989 @lauraseresin @freyagallileaevans @silscintilla

November, 2022

“Nicholas needs those prints on his desk no later than six tonight so he can get them sent to the designers in Japan.”

I nodded my head as my assistant rambled off the various tasks that awaited me as we walked back to my office. “Neve is asking that you meet her for lunch tomorrow around noon and then you have that meeting with the fashion head at the London branch at 2:45.”  

As we rounded the corner to my office, the rhythmic click of my heels against the polished floor came to a sudden halt. My breath hitched, my heart skipping a beat as my eyes landed on the uninvited and unannounced visitor who had made himself far too comfortable on my couch. There he was, lounging as though he owned the place, one arm draped casually along the backrest, the other holding a phone he was in the process of slipping into his jacket pocket. 

His sharp, green eyes found mine immediately, lighting up with a glint of amusement. A slow, knowing smile crept across his face, curling at the edges like he had been waiting for this exact moment. If he noticed the way my grip tightened on the folder in my hands, he didn’t let it show. 

“Hello, darlin’,” he drawled, his rich voice filling the room with a warmth that felt entirely out of place in the cool, professional space of my office. 

I didn’t move. Couldn’t, really. My brain was still processing the audacity of him sitting there, legs crossed, exuding the kind of confidence that bordered on arrogance. The faint scent of leather and something smokier—cologne, perhaps—lingered in the air, mixing with the faint hum of the heating system. 

“I wasn’t aware anyone was waiting for you, Ri—” Charlotte’s voice faltered, her nervousness evident as her eyes darted quickly between the two of us. “Clara didn’t mention anything about a meeting or a visitor.”

“It’s fine, Charlotte.” My response was clipped, my tone distracted as I glanced toward Tyler, who stood there with a self-satisfied smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “If you can just give me a minute to deal with this—” I gestured toward him, my hand vaguely waving in his direction, as though dismissing an irritating inconvenience.

“Deal with me?” Tyler interjected, his voice sharp with mock indignation. “Gotta handle me like I’m some dog and not her husband.” His sarcastic tone dripped with bitterness as he crossed his arms over his chest, leaning casually against the doorframe. “Not like we weren’t together for seven years or anything.”

Charlotte’s eyes widened considerably as the weight of his words sank in. “This is your husband?” she asked, voice barely above a whisper, her gaze flitting back to me, searching for confirmation and clarity.

I turned sharply to face Charlotte, who now looked as though she'd accidentally walked into a war zone. Her fingers hovered nervously over the clipboard she always carried. The poor girl was still new, and this was far from the kind of situation I wanted her to deal with on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Yes, Charlotte,” I said briskly, trying to maintain my composure. “This... is my husband. Ex-husband, technically.”

Tyler’s smirk widened as he leaned back comfortably on the couch, his arms stretched along the top of it like he owned the place. “Ex-husband, current headache. You know, same difference.”

I shot him a glare before turning back to Charlotte, who looked as if she were trying to decide between fleeing or melting into the floor. “Why don’t you take an early coffee break,” I suggested with a tight smile. “I can handle this.”

“But the prints—” she started, glancing between Tyler and me like she was weighing whether leaving me alone with him would be a mistake.

“I’ll have them done on time,” I interrupted, my tone firm. “Just give me a minute.”

Charlotte hesitated for only a second longer before nodding and scurrying off down the hall, her clipboard clutched protectively to her chest. Once she was out of earshot, I turned my full attention to Tyler, who was now making himself at home by casually flipping through one of the glossy fashion portfolios on the coffee table.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded, crossing my arms.

“Good to see you too, darlin’,” he said, not bothering to look up as he flipped another page. “I like what you’ve done with the office. Very... you. Cold, professional, and just a little intimidating.”

“Cut the crap, Tyler,” I snapped. “How did you even get past security? Last I checked, my assistant doesn’t schedule appointments for ghosts from my past.”

He finally set the portfolio down, his expression softening just enough to make me suspicious. “Relax. I told the guy at the front desk that I was here to surprise my wife. Guess they’re suckers for a good romance.”

I let out a humorless laugh. “Romance? That’s rich, coming from you.”

His smile faltered, just for a second, but it was enough to remind me that underneath all his bravado, Tyler was as human as the rest of us. Not that I was about to let him off the hook.

“You didn’t answer my question,” I pressed. “Why are you here?”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked up at me. For a moment, he seemed almost... serious. “I needed to see you.”

I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, I sighed and moved behind my desk, needing the physical barrier between us. “If this is about the divorce papers, I already signed them. You should’ve gotten them weeks ago.”

“It’s not about the papers,” he said quietly.

“Then what?” My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care. “Because unless this is about something important, I really don’t have time for whatever game you’re playing.”

“Would it be bad for me to say that I fucking miss you? That I miss my fucking kid?” His voice cracked slightly, the anger bubbling up but laced with something raw—pain. He ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident in the way his shoulders rose and fell with heavy breaths. “I mean, when you take a guy’s daughter away from him, make it near impossible to see her in person, and then act like I’m the bad guy for feeling this way, what do you expect? You can’t blame a guy for trying to see his own kid. For trying to see the woman he—” He stopped himself, closing his eyes for a second as if steadying his resolve. “The woman he loves. But obviously, she doesn’t love him back.”

His words hit like a series of punches, each one sharper than the last. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, more for protection than defiance, my nails digging into my skin as I swallowed the lump forming in my throat. “Tyler, this isn’t fair,” I said quietly, trying to keep my voice steady even though I could feel the cracks forming. “You don’t get to just show up here and make this about you.”

“Make this about me?” He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “How the hell is this about me? This is about her. About the little girl who barely gets to see her dad. About the family we had—” His voice broke on the word, and he quickly cleared his throat, trying to mask the vulnerability that had slipped through. “The family we were supposed to have.”

I felt my chest tighten, guilt mixing with anger in a way that made it hard to breathe. “You think this is easy for me?” I shot back, my voice rising despite my best efforts to stay calm. “You think I wanted things to end up like this? That I wanted to—” My voice caught, and I had to pause, blinking rapidly to hold back the tears threatening to spill. “You don’t know what it’s like, Tyler. To feel like you’re constantly the one holding everything together while someone else gets to just… walk away.”

“Walk away?” His voice was louder now, the anger fully surfacing as he took a step closer. “You think I walked away? You think I wanted to lose everything? To lose you? To lose her?” His green eyes burned into mine, the weight of his words settling heavily between us. “I didn’t walk away, Riley. You pushed me out. You built a wall so high that I couldn’t climb it, no matter how hard I tried.”

I shook my head, unable to look at him, because if I did, I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep the tears at bay. “This isn’t the time, Tyler,” I murmured, my voice barely audible. “This isn’t the place.”

“When is it ever going to be the time, huh?” he challenged, his voice rising again. “When are we ever going to talk about this? About us? Or is this just how it’s going to be? You pretending like I don’t exist, like I’m some stranger who doesn’t have the right to see his own family?”

“You don’t get to stand here and act like you’re the victim,” I snapped, the frustration spilling over despite my best efforts to keep it contained. “You don’t get to show up out of nowhere and throw this all in my face, like I’m the one who ruined everything.”

“Then who did, Riley?” he shot back, taking another step closer. “Because it sure as hell wasn’t just me.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air. I didn’t have an answer—not one that I could say out loud, anyway. Because the truth was, he wasn’t entirely wrong. But admitting that felt like opening a door I wasn’t sure I’d be able to close again.

Tyler let out a bitter sigh, running a hand down his face as if trying to collect himself. “I just… I just want to see her,” he said, his voice softer now, the anger giving way to something more vulnerable. “I just want to be her dad. That’s all I’m asking for. Is that really too much?”

“It’s not up to me to decide—that’s what the courts are for, and that’s what the lawyers are going to discuss in a couple of weeks.” My voice was steady, though I could feel the strain in my chest as I spoke. I didn’t want this conversation, not here, not now. “I’ve never stopped her from talking to you, Tyler—”

“It’s not the same as seeing her in person, Riley!” he snapped, his voice rising before he caught himself. He glanced around quickly, realizing we were in a public space, and lowered his tone, though the frustration still simmered in every word. “Seeing her on a computer screen is *not* the same as seeing her in person. You know that. I’m not going to let her grow up without a dad—no matter how many miles are between us.”

I sighed, trying to keep my composure, but his words hit me in places I didn’t want to acknowledge. “You think I don’t know that?” I hissed, leaning in slightly so our conversation wouldn’t draw the attention of the people nearby. “Do you think this is what I wanted? For her to have a relationship with her dad through a screen? For us to be having this fight in the first place?”

“Then why?” he demanded, his voice lower now but no less intense. “Why does it feel like I’m the only one fighting for her? For us? Why does it feel like I’m the one who has to jump through every goddamn hoop just to be a part of her life?”

“That’s not fair,” I shot back, my voice trembling slightly, though I wasn’t sure if it was from anger, guilt, or a mix of both. “Do you think this is easy for me, Tyler? Do you think I wanted to uproot her life, to make her live in two different worlds? I didn’t make these decisions lightly, and you know that.”

“Yeah? Well, it doesn’t feel like you thought about me at all,” he said bitterly, shaking his head as he leaned back, running a hand through his hair. “Or about what it would do to her, growing up without both of her parents in the same place. You say you didn’t make the decision lightly, but it sure feels like you didn’t think about anyone but yourself.”

I flinched at his words, even though I tried not to let it show. “That’s not fair,” I repeated, though it felt weaker this time, less convincing even to myself. “You don’t know what it was like for me. You don’t know what I had to weigh, what I had to sacrifice—”

“And you think I didn’t sacrifice anything?” he interrupted, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward slightly, his voice growing more intense despite the quiet. “You think I didn’t lose everything the day you left? You took her, Riley. You didn’t just take my daughter, you took my family, my home, my—” He stopped, clenching his jaw as if the words were too heavy to say out loud. “You made the decision for both of us. You didn’t even give me a chance to fight for us.”

“I gave you plenty of chances, Tyler,” I said sharply, my own anger bubbling to the surface now. “But you didn’t fight then. You didn’t fight for us when it mattered.”

His face fell, and for a moment, I thought I’d managed to shut him down. But then he let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he stood up fully, towering over me. “That’s rich, Riley. That’s real rich. Blaming me for something that was just as much your fault as it was mine.”

I opened my mouth to respond, but he held up a hand, cutting me off. “You know what? Forget it. I’m not here to argue with you about the past. I’m here for her. I don’t care what you think about me, or what you think I deserve. She deserves to have her dad in her life, not just on some damn screen. And I’m not going to stop fighting for that.”

“You think I want to keep her from you?” I said, my voice shaking now, the walls I’d built around myself beginning to crumble. “You think I want her to grow up without her dad? I’ve done everything I can to make this work, Tyler. I’ve tried to make it fair, to give you access to her even from a distance. But this—this isn’t just about what you want. It’s about her. It’s about what’s best for her.”

“And you think what’s best for her is growing up with her dad as a visitor in her life?”

I shook my head, exhaustion heavy in every movement. “I’m not going to continue this here. Not in my office. Not in front of all these people.” My voice was firm, but the weariness bled through despite my best efforts to keep it together.

Tyler didn’t even flinch. He stood there, arms crossed, his jaw set in a way that told me he wasn’t letting this go. “No,” he said, his voice calm but resolute, “but we are gonna continue it tonight when you get off.” He spoke as though it was a fact, not a request, his tone leaving no room for argument. “There’s a bar down in the lobby of my ho—”

“No,” I interrupted sharply, shaking my head and holding up a hand to stop him. “I’m not meeting you at some hotel, Tyler.”

“It’s not—” He paused, pinching the bridge of his nose as if trying to keep himself calm. “It’s not about the hotel, Riley. It’s about having a damn conversation where we’re not surrounded by your coworkers or random strangers.” His voice softened slightly, but the frustration was still there, simmering just beneath the surface. “Somewhere neutral. Somewhere we can actually talk.”

I crossed my arms, my stance defensive, but it wasn’t enough to mask the crack in my resolve. “We don’t need to talk. Everything that needs to be said is being handled by lawyers. That’s the whole point of this process, Tyler.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “Lawyers? Really? You’re going to let lawyers decide what’s best for our daughter? For us?” His green eyes burned into mine, and for a moment, I had to look away. “You can’t just hide behind them forever, Riley. At some point, you’re going to have to face me. You’re going to have to face this.”

“I’m not hiding,” I shot back, my voice sharper than I intended. “I’m doing what I have to do to protect her. To protect us. You think this is easy for me? That I enjoy dragging this out in a courtroom?”

“Then stop dragging it out!” he countered, his voice rising again before he quickly brought it back down, mindful of the people nearby. “Stop making this harder than it has to be. Just meet me halfway, Riley. That’s all I’m asking.”

I let out a shaky breath, my arms dropping to my sides as the weight of his words settled over me. “I have been meeting you halfway. I’ve done everything I can to make this work. But you—” I paused, swallowing hard as I fought to keep my emotions in check. “You’re the one who keeps pushing. You’re the one who keeps showing up like this, making demands, acting like you’re the only one who’s hurting.”

“You think I’m just making demands?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but no less intense. “You think I like showing up here, practically begging to be a part of her life? I’m trying, Riley. I’m trying so damn hard, and it feels like no matter what I do, it’s never enough for you.”

“It’s not about me,” I said, my tone softening despite myself. “It’s about her. It’s always been about her.”

“Then start acting like it,” he said bluntly, the words cutting through me like a knife. “Because right now, all she’s seeing is two parents who can’t get their shit together. And if we don’t figure this out—if we don’t fix this—she’s the one who’s going to pay the price.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of his words settling heavily between us. I glanced around the room, noticing the curious glances from a few of my coworkers, and felt a fresh wave of anxiety wash over me. This wasn’t the place for this. He was right about that, at least.

“I’ll think about it,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “But I’m not promising anything.”

Tyler studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded, though it was more out of resignation than agreement. “You’ve got my number,” he said simply before turning on his heel and walking away, leaving me standing there with a knot in my stomach and a thousand emotions I didn’t know how to process…

I pulled the umbrella closed as I stepped through the door, the soft patter of rain fading into the background as the sound of muted voices and gentle laughter floated through the lobby. The warm light of the space contrasted sharply with the chill I’d carried in from outside, but it did little to ease the knot in my stomach. The signs leading to the bar area guided me forward, my footsteps slow and deliberate despite the tension urging me to turn around and leave.

From the time Tyler had walked out of my office earlier that day, up until twenty minutes before I finally left work, I’d been locked in an internal battle with myself. My thoughts had spun in circles, bouncing between anger, guilt, and reluctant understanding. I didn’t want to be here—didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he’d won, that his persistence had cracked my resolve. But deep down, I knew this wasn’t about winning or losing. It was about Caroline.

Tyler was her father. The man she adored. The man she looked up to with those bright, wide eyes that lit up at the sound of his voice. No matter how much history there was between Tyler and me, no matter how much bitterness lingered in the spaces we couldn’t seem to bridge, I couldn’t deny that bond. And I couldn’t deny that she needed him.

I never wanted to be one of those moms who cut their child’s father out of their life just because the relationship had ended on a sour note. It wasn’t fair—to him, to her, or to the family we’d once tried so hard to build. Caroline didn’t deserve to pay the price for our mistakes. She didn’t deserve to grow up carrying the weight of our failures.

This wasn’t about me. It couldn’t be. My relationship with Tyler, as complicated and fractured as it was, was between him and me. Caroline didn’t ask to be caught in the middle of it. She didn’t deserve to feel the tension that lingered in every strained phone call, every awkward handoff. And no matter how much easier it would have been to keep him at arm’s length, to shield myself from the pain of reopening wounds I hadn’t fully healed, I couldn’t do that to her.

As I stepped into the bar area, the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses greeted me. The warm amber glow of the overhead lights made the space feel inviting, but it didn’t calm the nerves that twisted in my stomach. My eyes scanned the room, searching for him, and it didn’t take long to find him seated at a small table near the back, his posture tense but his gaze steady as he watched the door. He saw me before I saw him, and as our eyes met, I felt a flicker of something I couldn’t quite name. Relief? Sadness? Maybe both.

He stood as I approached, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans. “You came,” he said simply, his voice low and careful, as though he didn’t want to push me away before the conversation even started.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak just yet. Instead, I slid into the chair across from him, setting my umbrella against the side of the table and brushing a few stray droplets of water off my coat. The silence between us was heavy, but not unbearable. It felt like an unspoken truce, a tentative step toward something neither of us could quite define.

“I wasn’t sure if you would,” he admitted after a moment, his gaze flickering down to the table before meeting mine again. “I half-expected you to blow me off.”

“Believe me, I thought about it,” I said, my tone dry but not unkind. “But this isn’t about you or me, Tyler. It’s about Caroline. It’s always about her.”

He nodded slowly, his expression softening as he leaned back in his chair. “I know. That’s why I asked you to come. I’m not trying to make this harder on you, Riley. I’m not trying to pick a fight. I just… I just want to figure out how to make this work.”

I studied him for a moment, searching for cracks in his sincerity, but I didn’t find any. He looked tired—more tired than I’d seen him in a long time—and the weight he carried was written in the lines around his eyes, in the way his shoulders sagged just slightly.

“I want that too,” I said quietly, surprising even myself with the admission. “I want her to have both of us in her life, Tyler. But this… this isn’t easy. You know that.”

He nodded again, his jaw tightening slightly as he processed my words. “I know it’s not easy. But nothing about this has been easy, Riley. Nothing about losing you, losing her, has been easy. I just…

“I don’t want to talk about us—that’s not why I came.” My voice was firm, though I could feel the tension in my chest, the strain of holding back everything I wanted to say but knew I couldn’t. I watched Tyler as he nodded slowly, his jaw tightening for a moment before he exhaled and leaned back in his chair.

“Fair enough,” he said after a beat, his voice quieter now, more measured. “I didn’t ask you here to dredge up the past, Riley. I just… I needed to talk to you. About Caroline” His eyes softened as he mentioned our daughter, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the frustration that had been so present earlier in the day.

I nodded, forcing myself to stay grounded, to keep the walls I’d built firmly in place. “Good,” I replied, my tone clipped but not harsh. “Because that’s the only reason I’m here. For Caroline.”

Tyler’s lips twitched into something that was almost a smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I figured as much,” he said, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and understanding. “I know where we stand, Riley. I’m not delusional.”

I raised an eyebrow at that, leaning back slightly in my own chair. “Do you?” I asked, my tone sharper than I intended. “Because showing up at my office like that didn’t exactly scream ‘I know where we stand.’ It screamed ‘I’m going to bulldoze my way through every boundary you’ve tried to set.’”

He flinched slightly at my words but didn’t back down. Instead, he leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as he met my gaze head-on. “I’m not trying to bulldoze anything. I’m just trying to be heard. You don’t make it easy, Riley. You’re so locked up in your own head, your own plans, that it feels like there’s no room for me in any of it.”

I clenched my jaw, my fingers curling into fists beneath the table as I fought to keep my emotions in check. “This isn’t about you,” I said quietly, though the edge in my voice was unmistakable. “It’s about her. It’s always been about her.”

“And that’s exactly why I’m here,” he shot back, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself and glanced around the bar. His tone dropped again, calm but laced with frustration. “Because I want to be a part of Caroline’s life, Riley. Not just some guy she talks to on a screen once a week. I want to see her. I want to know her. I want to be her dad.”

“You are her dad,” I said, my voice soft but firm. “No one is taking that away from you, Tyler. I’ve never tried to take that away from you.”

“Maybe not intentionally,” he said, his tone gentler now but no less pointed. “But that’s what it feels like, Riley. Every time I have to fight to see her, every time I have to go through you or a screen or a lawyer just to talk to my own daughter, it feels like I’m being pushed further and further away.”

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” I muttered, my voice low but steady, though I could feel the tension building in my chest. “But if you just saw things from my point of view, you’d understand where I’m coming from.”

Tyler’s jaw tightened, and he let out a quiet, bitter laugh as he leaned back in his chair. “Your point of view?” he repeated, his tone laced with frustration. “Riley, I’ve been *trying* to see things from your point of view for years. I’ve been trying to understand why you keep me at arm’s length, why you make it so damn hard for me to be a part of her life. But no matter how much I try, it feels like you’ve already made up your mind about me.”

“That’s not true,” I said quickly, though the words felt hollow even as I said them. “I haven’t made up my mind about you. This isn’t about you, Tyler. It’s about her. It’s about what’s best for Caroline.”

“And you think you’re the only one who knows what’s best for her?” he shot back, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. He glanced around the bar, his shoulders stiff as he leaned forward again, lowering his voice. “You think I don’t want what’s best for her? That I don’t lie awake at night wondering if I’m doing enough, if I’m ever going to be enough for her?”

I looked away, unable to hold his gaze as his words hit far too close to home. “I know you love her,” I said quietly, my fingers curling into fists beneath the table. “I’ve never doubted that, Tyler. But love isn’t always enough. She needs more than that. She needs stability. She needs routine. And your job—”

“Here we go again,” he interrupted, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair, his arms crossing over his chest. “My job. The big, bad storm chaser who can’t possibly be a good dad because he doesn’t punch a clock in some office every day.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended. “Don’t twist this around to make me the bad guy. You know exactly what I mean. Your job is dangerous, Tyler. It’s unpredictable. You’re constantly on the road, constantly chasing storms and putting yourself in harm’s way. How am I supposed to feel comfortable with her being around that?”

“You think I’d ever put her in danger?” he asked, his voice low but cutting, his eyes narrowing as he leaned forward again. “You really think I’d be reckless with my own daughter? That I’d ever do anything to hurt her?”

“I’m not saying you’d do it on purpose,” I said, my voice trembling slightly, though I tried to keep it steady. “But accidents happen, Tyler. No matter how careful you are, no matter how much you plan, things can go wrong. And I’m not willing to take that risk with her.”

He stared at me for a long moment, his expression a mix of anger, hurt, and something else I couldn’t quite place. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through his hair as he looked away. “You act like I don’t know that,” he said quietly, his voice softer now but no less intense. “Like I don’t think about that every damn day. You think I don’t know the risks? That I don’t lie awake at night thinking about all the ways things could go wrong? I know, Riley. I know better than anyone. But that doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to be in her life.”

“I never said you didn’t deserve to be in her life,” I replied, my voice softening despite the frustration simmering beneath the surface. “I want you to be in her life, Tyler. I want her to have her dad. But it’s not that simple. You can’t just show up whenever it’s convenient for you and expect everything to fall into place.”

“That’s not what I’m doing,” he said quickly, his tone defensive. “I’m trying, Riley. I’m trying to figure this out, to find a way to make this work. But you make it so damn hard. You keep putting up walls, and no matter how much I try to break through them, you just build them higher.”

I swallowed hard, his words hitting a nerve I didn’t want to acknowledge. “I’m not putting up walls,” I said quietly, though even I could hear the uncertainty in my voice. “I’m just trying to do what’s best for her. That’s all I’ve ever tried to do.”

“And you think I’m not?” Tyler asked, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself again. He leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table as his eyes locked onto mine, our faces mere inches apart. His frustration simmered under the surface, but there was something else there too—something raw and desperate that made it hard to hold his gaze. “Remember our dream?” he continued, his voice quieter now, though no less intense. “Two or three kids, a house with a picket fence and a wraparound porch. We used to talk about it all the time, Riley. Don’t act like you don’t remember.”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I blinked away the tears that were beginning to well up. I hated that he could still do this—still drag me back into the past, to a time when things were simpler, and the weight of reality hadn’t yet crushed the dreams we’d built together. “Of course, I remember,” I muttered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “But that was a long time ago, Tyler. What we had is over.” I forced the words out, each one feeling heavier than the last, as though saying them out loud would somehow make them easier to believe.

“It doesn’t have to be,” he said softly, his tone shifting as he reached across the table, his hand brushing against mine. The gesture was small, almost hesitant, but it was enough to send a jolt through me. My instinct kicked in before I could think, and I jerked my hand back as though his touch had burned me.

“Don’t,” I said sharply, the word cutting through the space between us like a blade. My heart was pounding in my chest, a mix of anger and something I couldn’t quite name. “You don’t get to do that, Tyler. You don’t get to sit here and act like we can just go back to the way things were. Like nothing happened. Like you didn’t—” I stopped myself, my voice catching as the words threatened to spill out. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady myself before continuing. “What we had wasn’t enough. It’s not enough now, and it’s not going to be enough for Caroline either.”

His expression shifted, the hurt flashing across his face so briefly that I almost missed it. “That’s not fair,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t get to decide that. You don’t get to sit there and tell me that what we had wasn’t enough when it was enough for me. When it still is enough for me.”

I shook my head, my hands gripping the edge of the table as though it was the only thing keeping me grounded. “You don’t understand, Tyler,” I said, my voice cracking under the weight of my emotions. “You’re still holding onto this idea of us, this picture-perfect version of what we were supposed to be. But that version doesn’t exist anymore. It hasn’t for a long time.”

“Why not?” he asked, his voice louder now, his frustration boiling over. “Why doesn’t it exist anymore, Riley? Because you gave up on it? Because you decided it wasn’t worth fighting for?” He sat back in his chair, shaking his head as he let out a bitter laugh. “You talk about me not seeing things from your point of view, but have you ever tried to see things from mine? Have you ever stopped to think about what it felt like to lose you? To lose my family? To lose the life we were supposed to have?”

His words hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to argue, to defend myself, to tell him that he didn’t understand what it had been like for me either. But the truth was, he wasn’t entirely wrong. I had made the decision to leave. I had been the one to walk away, to tear apart the foundation of the life we’d built together. And even though I knew, deep down, that it had been the right decision, that didn’t make it hurt any less.

“I didn’t give up,” I said finally, my voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t walk away because I stopped loving you, Tyler. I walked away because I couldn’t keep pretending that love was enough. We were falling apart, and no matter how much we tried to hold on, we couldn’t stop it. I had to make a choice—for me, for her. And it was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do.”

Tyler stared at me, his jaw tightening as he absorbed my words. For a moment, I thought he might argue, might try to convince me that I was wrong. But then he let out a heavy sigh,

“This was a mistake,” I said abruptly, my voice shaking as I scrambled to my feet. The chair scraped loudly against the floor, drawing a few curious glances from nearby tables, but I didn’t care. I needed to get out of there. I could feel the walls closing in, the weight of Tyler’s words pressing down on me like a storm I couldn’t escape.

I grabbed my purse and umbrella in one swift motion, fumbling slightly as my hands trembled. “I shouldn’t have come,” I muttered, more to myself than to him. My heart was pounding in my chest, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm me. Anger, sadness, guilt—they all swirled together, making it impossible to think clearly.

“Riley, wait,” Tyler said, his voice steady but tinged with urgency as he stood too. His movements were slower, more measured, as though he was afraid that pushing too hard would make me bolt entirely. “Don’t do this. Don’t just walk away.”

I shook my head, avoiding his gaze as I clutched my purse tightly. “I can’t do this, Tyler,” I said, my voice cracking despite my best efforts to keep it together. “I thought we could have a conversation, a civil conversation, but it’s always the same with us. It always comes back to this—to you and me and everything that went wrong.”

“Because it’s not fixed, Riley!” he shot back, his own frustration bubbling to the surface. He ran a hand through his hair, his green eyes blazing as he looked at me. “We can’t just pretend it didn’t happen, like it doesn’t matter. You think we can just keep sweeping it under the rug and everything will magically work itself out? That’s not how this works. That’s not how we fix this.”

I let out a shaky laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Fix this?” I repeated, my voice bitter. “There is no fixing this, Tyler. What we had is broken. It’s been broken for a long time, and no amount of talking about dreams or the past or what could’ve been is going to change that.”

“It doesn’t have to be broken,” he said, his tone softening as he took a step closer. “Riley, I know things weren’t perfect—hell, I know I wasn’t perfect—but that doesn’t mean we can’t try. For us. For Caroline.”

I flinched at the mention of her name, the knot in my stomach tightening. “This isn’t about Caroline,” I said quietly, though the words felt like a lie even as I said them. “This is about you not letting go. About you refusing to accept that sometimes, love isn’t enough. Sometimes, it’s not enough to fix what’s broken.”

“I’m not refusing to let go,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “I’m refusing to give up. There’s a difference, Riley. I’m fighting for my family. Because I still believe we can make this work, even if you don’t.”

I stared at him, my chest tightening as his words hung heavy in the air between us. For a moment, I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that it was possible to go back, to rebuild what had been lost. But I knew better. I knew that some things couldn’t be undone, no matter how much you wished they could.

“This was a mistake,” I repeated, my voice steadier now as I took a step back, putting more distance between us. “I shouldn’t have come here, Tyler. I thought we could talk like adults, but it’s clear that we’re just going in circles. And I can’t keep doing this. I won’t.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but I shook my head, cutting him off before he could say anything. “Don’t,” I said firmly, my voice barely above a whisper. “Please, don’t. I can’t do this right now.”

“Can I at least see my daughter before I head back to Arkansas?” Tyler’s voice was quieter now, but the weight of his words lingered between us. He wasn’t asking out of anger this time, or frustration—it was something softer, more vulnerable, and it stopped me in my tracks. His green eyes, usually so sharp and unrelenting, were pleading now, searching mine for any sign of compromise.

I froze, my hand tightening around the strap of my purse as I stood just a few steps from the door, the rain still pattering faintly against the glass. My heart felt like it was caught in a vise, squeezed between the exhaustion of this entire conversation and the guilt that his request stirred up. I wanted to say yes, to tell him he could see her, to give him that moment with Caroline that I knew he was desperate for. But another part of me hesitated, unsure if giving in would open a door I wasn’t ready to walk through.

“Tyler…” I started, my voice wavering as I turned slightly to face him. “You know it’s not that simple.”

His jaw tightened, and he let out a quiet sigh, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the edge of the table. “It should be,” he said softly, his voice laced with a mix of sadness and frustration. “She’s my daughter too, Riley. I shouldn’t have to beg just to see her.”

I let out a heavy sigh, the weight of the conversation pressing down on me. “I’m not trying to keep her from you,” I said softly, though my voice carried the exhaustion of repeating the same thing over and over. “It’s just… it’s late, Tyler. She doesn’t even know you’re in town. You showing up now will only get her hopes up, and then, come tomorrow, when you go off with the wind again, she’s going to be another sad kid who has to deal with her family not being together.”

Tyler’s face twisted, a mixture of frustration and hurt flashing across his expression. He opened his mouth to say something, then stopped, running a hand through his hair as he took a step back. His hands clenched into fists at his sides before he let out a slow breath, forcing himself to loosen them. “That’s not fair,” he said finally, his voice low but steady. “You make it sound like I just swoop in and out of her life without a care in the world, like I don’t think about what it does to her. Do you think I don’t know how hard it is for her? Do you think I don’t feel it every time I have to say goodbye?”

“I’m not saying you don’t care,” I replied, my voice softer now but still firm. “I know you do. I know you love her more than anything. But that doesn’t change the fact that your life isn’t built for this, Tyler. It’s not built for her.”

He flinched at my words, and for a moment, I thought he might lash out, but instead, he just shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “You keep saying that,” he said, his tone quiet but sharp. “That my life isn’t built for her. That I’m not built for this. But do you-“

"Fine!" I snapped, my voice cutting through the hum of the city like a whip. My frustration with the entire conversation tipped over, spilling out before I could stop it. "Fine, you can come see her, Tyler. Because I’m done. I’m done having this same talk with you over and over again. I can’t do it anymore."

Tyler blinked, clearly caught off guard by my outburst. For a moment, he just stared at me, his lips parting slightly as though he wanted to say something, but no words came out. Then, slowly, his expression shifted, the anger and frustration melting into something softer. Something more cautious.

"Riley…" he started, his voice low, almost hesitant. He reached out as if to steady the situation, his hand hovering in the air between us. "I didn’t mean to push you like this. I just… I just want—"

"No," I interrupted, holding up a hand to stop him. "Don’t. Don’t try to justify it. I know what you want, Tyler. You’ve made that perfectly clear. And you know what? I want it too. I want Caroline to have her dad in her life. I want her to know you, to love you, to feel like she has both parents who care about her. But this…" I gestured vaguely between us, my hand trembling slightly. "This isn’t working. This constant back and forth, this fighting—this isn’t healthy for anyone. Least of all her."

Silence enveloped us for the first time tonight, thick and heavy, like the calm that settles just before a storm. Neither of us moved, the weight of everything we’d said hanging in the air between us. I could feel Tyler’s eyes on me, his gaze filled with something I couldn’t quite decipher—relief, frustration, desperation, maybe all of it at once. My own emotions were tangled beyond recognition, a mix of exhaustion, guilt, and an aching sadness I couldn’t seem to shake.

Finally, I broke the stillness, my voice low but firm. “You already have my address,” I said, not looking at him as I adjusted the strap of my purse on my shoulder. “Just meet me at my place, and we can go from there.”

I turned, my heels clicking softly against the floor as I started to walk away, eager to escape the intensity of his presence. But something made me stop, something deep in my chest that wouldn’t let me leave without one last parting word. Slowly, I turned back to face him, catching the faint flicker of surprise in his expression as I met his gaze head-on.

“You have an hour, Tyler,” I said, my tone sharper now, the edge of frustration creeping back in despite the exhaustion weighing me down. “I’d make it count if I were you.”

His brows furrowed slightly, as though he was trying to read between the lines of what I’d just said. For a moment, he didn’t respond, his lips parting slightly as if to speak, only to close again. It was rare to see Tyler at a loss for words, and for some reason, it made the knot in my stomach tighten even more.

“Riley—” he started, but I cut him off with a small shake of my head.

“Don’t,” I said quickly, my voice trembling slightly despite my best efforts to keep it steady. “Just… don’t say anything. Not right now. Just show up, okay? If you really mean what you’ve been saying tonight, if you really want to make this work—for her—then prove it. Be there.”

For a moment, he just stared at me, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he nodded, his jaw tightening as he seemed to steel himself. “I’ll be there,” he said quietly, his voice steady but laced with something raw. “You have my word.”

I nodded in return, not trusting myself to say anything else. Without another word, I turned and walked toward the door, my steps quick and purposeful even though my chest felt like it was about to cave in.

This wasn’t how I’d wanted things to go. I’d come here tonight hoping for clarity, for some kind of resolution that would make everything feel easier, lighter. But instead, I felt more conflicted than ever. Tyler’s words echoed in my mind, his frustration and pain mingling with my own until I couldn’t tell where his ended and mine began.

An hour. That’s all I’d given him. It wasn’t much, but it was all I could give right now. And as much as I hated to admit it, a part of me was scared—scared that he’d show up and prove me wrong, or worse, that he wouldn’t show up at all.

I took a deep breath, the cold air stinging my lungs, and started toward my car. One hour. That’s all I had to wait. And yet, it already felt like an eternity…

“Daddy has to go, but I love you so much, Sugar pie,” Tyler’s voice was soft, almost a whisper, as he rocked Caroline gently in the chair. The sound of the creaking rocker echoed faintly through the quiet house, blending with the muffled hum of the rain outside. He cradled her close, her small arms wrapped around his neck as if she could keep him from leaving just by holding on tight enough. The sight of them together in the dim glow of the nightlight was enough to twist something deep in my chest, but I stayed hidden in the hallway, my back pressed against the wall as I eavesdropped on their final moments together tonight.

The rocker creaked again; a sound I’d grown so used to in those first sleepless months when Caroline was just a newborn. Tyler had spent hours in that chair, rocking her back and forth, humming softly under his breath when she couldn’t settle. He’d struggled to put the chair together the week before she was born, insisting that he didn’t need the instructions, and I’d laughed as he cursed quietly under his breath every time he got a piece wrong. Now, watching him rock our little girl in it, I wondered if he remembered those moments as clearly as I did. If they hurt him as much as they hurt me.

“Why can’t you stay with me, Daddy?” Caroline’s small voice broke through my thoughts, and I felt my heart shatter into a thousand pieces. Her words were so innocent, so full of the pure, unfiltered honesty that only a child could have, and yet, they carried a weight that neither of us could bear.

Tyler froze for a moment, his arms tightening around her as if he could shield her from the pain of the question. He pressed his lips to her hair, his eyes squeezed shut as he took a deep, shaky breath. “Oh, Sugar pie,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You know I’d stay if I could. I’d stay with you forever if I could.”

“Then why can’t you?” Caroline asked, her small voice cracking with confusion and hurt. She pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him with those wide, tear-filled eyes that always seemed to cut straight through to his soul. “Why can’t you stay here with me and Mommy?”

I covered my mouth with my hand, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as I listened from the shadows of the hallway. I knew this moment would come eventually—the moment when Caroline would start asking the hard questions, the ones we didn’t have easy answers for. But no amount of preparation could have made this easier. Hearing her little voice tremble, seeing the way she clung to him like her life depended on it, was almost too much to bear.

Tyler swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he struggled to find the right words. His hand came up to gently stroke Caroline’s hair, his fingers trembling slightly. “Sometimes, grown-ups have to live in different places,” he said finally, his voice soft and careful. “It’s not because I don’t love you, or because I don’t want to be with you. It’s just… the way things have to be right now.”

“But me and Mommy miss you,” Caroline said, her small voice trembling as she clung tighter to her father. Her words were simple, but the weight they carried was immense, heavy enough to make my breath hitch in my chest.

She was right—I did miss him. I missed him more than I ever wanted to admit, even to myself. Tyler wasn’t just Caroline’s father; he was my husband—well, ex-husband now—but that didn’t erase the years we had spent building a life together. The memories, the laughter, the love—it was all still there, lingering in the quiet corners of my heart, no matter how much I tried to push it away.

I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes as I fought the tears that threatened to spill over. I had loved him. I still loved him. And that was the hardest part of all of this. I never thought that our happily-ever-after would turn into a bitter divorce hearing, full of accusations and tears and lawyers who didn’t care about the life we had built together. I never thought we would end up here, two people who had once promised to love each other forever now struggling to figure out how to co-parent a little girl who didn’t understand why her family had fallen apart.

Tyler had been my everything at one point. The man who knew me better than anyone, who could make me laugh even on my worst days, who had held my hand through every high and low. He was the only man I had ever truly loved, and watching that love slip through my fingers had been one of the most painful experiences of my life. It was like trying to hold onto water—no matter how tightly I tried to grasp it, it always seemed to find a way to escape.

And now, as I listened to Caroline’s innocent, heart-wrenching questions, I felt that pain all over again. But this time, it wasn’t just my pain. It was hers too. She had been caught in the middle of something she didn’t ask for, something she didn’t deserve. And that broke me in a way I couldn’t even begin to describe.

“I miss you and Mommy too, bug,” Tyler said softly, his voice cracking ever so slightly as he cradled Caroline closer. He brushed a stray curl from her forehead, his hand lingering as though he couldn’t bear to let go. “But I promise, just because I’m not here with you in person, doesn’t mean I’m not with you. I’m always in here.” He tapped her chest gently with his finger, right over her heart.

Caroline tilted her head, her big, tear-filled eyes locking onto his as she asked, “In my heart?”

Tyler nodded, a small, tender smile breaking through the sadness etched into his face. “Yep,” he said, his voice warm and reassuring. “Every time you miss me, or feel sad because I’m not here, just remember that I’m right there in your heart. And nothing—*nothing*—can ever change that.”

Caroline sniffled, her little hands clutching at his shirt as though she might fall apart if she let go. “But what if I need to talk to you?” she asked, her voice trembling. “What if I want you to hug me and you’re not here?”

Tyler’s expression tightened for a moment, the pain of her words flickering across his face like a shadow. But he quickly steadied himself, his hand moving to gently stroke her back. “You know what?” he said softly, leaning in a little closer. “If you ever need to talk to me, all you have to do is ask Mommy to call me. She can call me anytime, bug, and I’ll answer. No matter where I am or what I’m doing, I’ll stop everything to talk to you. I promise.”

“Whenever I want?” Caroline asked, her voice brightening just a little, though her tears still glistened on her cheeks.

“Whenever you want,” Tyler confirmed, his smile growing as he kissed her forehead. “You’re more important than anything else, Caroline. There’s not a single thing in this world that matters more to me than you.”

Caroline seemed to consider this for a moment, her little brow furrowing as she processed his words. Finally, she nodded, her grip on his shirt loosening just slightly. “Okay,” she said softly, her voice still hesitant but a little steadier now. “But I’m still gonna miss you, Daddy.”

Tyler’s smile faltered for a split second, and I could see the sheer effort it took for him to hold himself together in that moment. “I’m gonna miss you too, Sugar pie,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I already do. But missing someone just means you love them a whole lot, and I love you more than anything.”

Caroline seemed satisfied with that answer, her head resting against his chest as she let out a tiny sigh. Tyler rocked her gently in the chair, the motion soothing both of them as the room fell quiet for a moment.

I took that as my cue to step back into the kitchen, retreating quietly so Tyler could have a few more moments with Caroline. My footsteps were light, careful not to make any noise that could pull either of them out of their private moment. As much as I wanted to stay rooted in that hallway and soak in the tenderness of their exchange, I knew this wasn’t my moment to intrude. This was for them—just a father and his daughter, sharing a goodbye that neither of them truly wanted to say.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, I exhaled slowly, the tension in my chest refusing to loosen. I had been holding my breath since this conversation started, and even now, with the faint sound of Tyler’s voice drifting down the hall, I couldn’t seem to relax. My emotions were too tangled, too raw.

I busied myself by tidying up the already clean counter, wiping away crumbs that weren’t there and straightening the edge of a dish towel. It gave my hands something to do, gave me a distraction from the ache that lingered deep in my chest. But nothing could drown out the quiet hum of Tyler’s voice or the occasional soft murmur from Caroline. Every word, every sound, seemed to wrap itself around me like a thread, pulling me back into a web of emotions I wasn’t sure I could untangle.

The rocker creaked faintly again, the noise carrying through the stillness of the house. I imagined Tyler holding her close, whispering reassurances that he would call her soon, that he loved her more than she could possibly understand. I imagined him tucking her back under her blankets, smoothing her hair, and kissing her forehead like he’d done a hundred times before. And I imagined the look on his face—the mixture of love and pain that always seemed to linger whenever he said goodbye to her. It was a look I knew all too well, one that had been etched into my memory from the day we decided to end our marriage.

I leaned my elbows on the counter, covering my face with my hands as I tried to steady myself. It wasn’t supposed to be this way. None of this was supposed to happen. We were supposed to be a family, raising Caroline together, making memories in the home we’d built. But somewhere along the way, things had unraveled, and now here we were—two people who used to love each other, trying to figure out how to co-parent without breaking her heart in the process.

The sound of Tyler’s footsteps pulled me out of my thoughts. I straightened quickly, brushing my hands down the front of my shirt as though that could somehow mask the fact that I was barely holding it together.

He appeared in the doorway a moment later, his shoulders slightly slumped and his hands stuffed into his pockets. His eyes met mine, and for a brief moment, neither of us said anything. The silence between us wasn’t hostile, but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was heavy, filled with all the words we couldn’t say, all the emotions we couldn’t bring ourselves to admit.

“She’s asleep,” Tyler said finally, his voice low and quiet. “Knocked out as soon as her head hit the pillow.”

I nodded, my throat feeling tight as I tried to find the right words. “Thank you,” I said softly, my voice barely audible. “For being here. For… for making time for her.”

He gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, but he didn’t say anything right away. Instead, he leaned against the doorframe, his gaze drifting toward the hallway where Caroline’s room was. “I hate leaving her,” he admitted after a moment, his voice cracking slightly. “Every time I walk out that door, it feels like I’m leaving a piece of myself behind.”

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat making it difficult to speak. “She knows you love her,” I said, my voice trembling. “She knows how much you care, Tyler. And that means the world to her. Even if she doesn’t always understand why you have to go.”

He let out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he looked down at the floor. “I just wish I could do more,” he said quietly. “I wish I could be here for her the way she deserves. The way you’ve been.”

My eyes drifted to the floor, unable to hold his gaze any longer. The faint sheen of pink nail polish on my toes caught my attention, a distraction so small yet so necessary in this moment. My chest felt tight, my emotions threatening to spill over as tears pricked at the edges of my vision. I blinked rapidly, willing them away, but the lump in my throat only grew heavier.

I didn’t want to cry—not now, not in front of him. Not when I’d spent so much time building the walls I needed to keep myself steady, to protect myself from everything this moment was dredging up. But the weight of the evening, of his words, of everything was becoming too much.

Seconds passed in silence, the air between us thick with unspoken emotions that neither of us seemed brave enough to confront. And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw his boots step into view. Worn, scuffed, and familiar in a way that made my chest ache, they stopped just inches from my bare feet. I froze, my breath catching as I felt the distance between us shrink to nothing.

And then his hand—calloused, warm, and unmistakably his—came into view. His thumb hooked softly under my jaw, the rough pad of his finger just brushing my skin as he tilted my face upward. The gesture was gentle, unassuming, but it carried a weight that made my heart stumble in my chest. I resisted at first, my instinctive defenses kicking in, but his persistence was quiet and steady, and eventually, I gave in.

When my eyes met his, the floodgates I had been so desperately trying to hold back threatened to burst. His gaze was steady, searching mine with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. For a moment, neither of us spoke, but the silence was deafening. His green eyes—so familiar, so full of emotions I couldn’t quite name—seemed to reach straight into the parts of me I’d been trying to bury.

“Riley,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. It was the way he used to say my name, back when things were simpler, back when we were still us. Back when the love between us was enough to drown out the noise of the world. Hearing it now, like this, felt like a knife twisting in my chest.

I blinked, a single tear escaping down my cheek despite my best efforts to keep my emotions in check. His thumb shifted slightly, brushing the tear away with a tenderness that made my breath catch. “You don’t have to do that,” he murmured, his voice tinged with something I couldn’t quite place—regret, longing, maybe both. “You don’t have to hide how you’re feeling. Not from me.”

I swallowed hard, my throat dry as I tried to find the words that would make this moment less unbearable. “It’s not that simple,” I managed, my voice trembling as I spoke. “None of this is simple, Tyler.”

“I know it’s not,” he said quietly, his thumb still resting gently against my jaw. “But that doesn’t mean you have to carry it all on your own. You don’t have to be so strong all the time, Riley. It’s okay to let someone in.”

I shook my head, the motion small but firm, as though it was the only thing keeping me grounded. “I can’t let you back in, Tyler,” I whispered, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to steady it. “Because if I do… if I let you back in, I won’t be able to get back out.”

The words hung between us like a fragile thread, the truth of them raw and exposed. I looked away, my gaze dropping to the floor as I tried to ignore the way his presence seemed to pull me in, like gravity refusing to let me go. My chest felt tight, my breathing shallow, and I could feel the tears pricking at the corners of my eyes, threatening to spill over if I wasn’t careful.

Tyler didn’t respond right away, but I could feel him—feel the weight of his gaze on me, the way his towering frame seemed to close the distance between us without him even moving. A moment later, I felt the heat of his breath against my skin, warm and steady, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine. His body was now mere inches from mine, close enough that I could feel the faintest brush of his presence, yet still far enough that he wasn’t crossing the line. Not yet.

“Riley,” he said softly, his voice low and rough, like the sound of distant thunder. It wasn’t just my name—it was a plea, layered with all the things he wasn’t saying. The sound of it sent goosebumps racing across my arms, and I hated myself for the way my body reacted, for the way my heart betrayed me by pounding so loudly I was sure he could hear it.

It happened so fast that I didn’t even realize it until we were both connected, his lips on mine as our bodies moved together in a rhythmic, unspoken harmony. The tension that had been building between us for so long finally cracked open, spilling out in waves of heat and desire that neither of us could contain. His hands gripped my waist, firm yet tender, as if he was afraid I might slip away, and I found myself pulling him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him against me.

The world around us seemed to dissolve, the noise, the chaos, the rational thoughts—all of it dimmed until there was nothing but us. His breath mingled with mine as his lips trailed from my mouth to my jawline, down to the sensitive hollow of my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Each touch, every movement, felt like a spark igniting something deep within me, something I hadn’t realized was there until now.

We moved together, our bodies speaking a language that words never could. It was raw, electric, and unrelenting, as if we were pouring every ounce of the unspoken tension we’d carried for so long into this moment. Hushed moans escaped between stolen kisses, the sound of them reverberating in the stillness around us. My fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, grounding myself in the reality of what was happening, even as it felt like we were floating somewhere far beyond the confines of this world.

For a fleeting moment, I opened my eyes to look at him. His gaze met mine, dark and intense, filled with something I couldn’t quite name but felt in every fiber of my being. It wasn’t just passion—it was something deeper, something that terrified and thrilled me all at once. And just like that, his lips captured mine again, drawing me back into the storm of us, where nothing else mattered but this connection, this release, this undeniable pull that had finally consumed us both…

[nerdynarrator28]

Storm of the Heart-Tyler Owen’s x Reader PT. 2

Synopsis: Being a sister to one of the notorious storm chaser crews online was a lot, You were Boone’s Sister, you have always heard stories from him and watched all the videos when they were live storm chasing. One Day your Brother invites you to go Storm Chasing with him and the crew, what will happen during that time? Will you and a Certain Storm Chaser get close to each other?

Pairings: Tyler Owen’s x Reader

Word Count: 658

Author’s Note: Hi! Everyone! I just wanted to say thank you for reading my first ever Tyler Owen’s fic ❤️ and giving it some love! Since it is becoming popular I have decided to do a part 2 of this story!❤️ Let me Know if I should make this into a series!

Weeks had passed since your first storm chasing experience with Tyler and the team. You'd been making excuses to visit Boone more often, always managing to time your visits with upcoming chase opportunities. Your brother saw right through you, of course, but he kept his teasing to a minimum.

Today, you were back at the base, helping the team prepare for a potentially massive storm system. As you loaded equipment into one of the chase vehicles, you felt a familiar presence behind you.

"Need a hand?" Tyler's voice sent a shiver down your spine.

You turned, offering a smile. "I've got it, but thanks."

He leaned against the vehicle, watching you work. "You know, you're getting pretty good at this. Ever thought about joining us full-time?"

The idea made your heart race. "I'd be lying if I said no," you admitted.

Before Tyler could respond, Boone's voice cut through the air. "Alright, lovebirds! Time to move out!"

You felt your cheeks flush as Tyler chuckled. "Your brother's got quite the imagination," he said, but there was a hint of something in his eyes that made you wonder.

As you climbed into Tyler's vehicle, Boone caught your arm. "Be careful out there, sis. And I don't just mean with the storm."

You rolled your eyes, but his words stuck with you as you set out.

The chase was intense from the start. Multiple tornadoes touched down, keeping the team on their toes. You found yourself working seamlessly with Tyler, anticipating his needs and providing support.

As day turned to dusk, you spotted a massive funnel cloud forming. "Tyler, look!" you pointed.

His eyes widened. "That's our target. Hold on tight!"

The next few minutes were a blur of adrenaline and fear as Tyler skillfully maneuvered closer to the tornado. You were mesmerized by his focus, the way he seemed to become one with the storm.

Suddenly, a piece of debris smashed into the windshield. You let out a startled cry, and Tyler immediately reached out, his hand finding yours.

"I've got you," he said, his voice steady despite the chaos around you.

In that moment, as the world spun wildly outside, something shifted between you. The tension that had been building for weeks crystallized into something undeniable.

As the storm began to dissipate, Tyler pulled over. The team's voices crackled over the radio, but neither of you moved to respond.

"Y/N," Tyler started, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant. "I need to tell you something."

Your heart pounded. "What is it?"

He took a deep breath. "I know you're Boone's sister, and I know it could complicate things, but... I'm falling for you. Hard."

Joy surged through you. "Tyler, I-"

"Wait," he interrupted. "Before you say anything, you need to know what you'd be getting into. This life, it's dangerous. Unpredictable. I can't promise safety or stability."

You smiled, reaching out to touch his cheek. "Tyler, I know all that. And I'm falling for you too – all of you, including the storm chaser."

Relief washed over his face, and he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that rivaled any storm for intensity.

When you finally parted, breathless, Tyler rested his forehead against yours. "So, what do we tell Boone?"

You laughed. "I think he already knows. But let's worry about that later."

As you drove back to base, hand in hand, you felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. You were embarking on a new adventure – one potentially more thrilling and unpredictable than any storm.

Back at headquarters, Boone took one look at your intertwined hands and sighed dramatically. "Well, it's about time. But Tyler, just remember – I know where all the tornadoes are."

You couldn't help but laugh. Whatever challenges lay ahead, you knew you could weather them together – just like the storms you chase.

@ellieslittleburrow @child-of-of-the-sunshine

[naeverse]

Drunken Love

A/N: OMG guys, it took forever to write this due to my busy schedule as of late, but my classes are now complete. Hooray! 😆🥳 Thank you all for your patience, and I hope you enjoy. ❤️❤️ Art generated on: niji・journey

🥃staring: FatherBestFriend!Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

      🍴preview: Without looking at him, you nodded, feeling his burly arm around your waist and soon his breath fanning against your ear. “I want you to forget about your troubles and give your worries to me to bear.” He uttered, caressing your lower back in gentle, loving circles. 

“And in return, allow me to make things better for you, mi amor.” 

💰summary: After four years of studying abroad, you return home to a 'Welcome Home' party hosted by your father. However, you quickly realize that nothing has changed—your father remains the same rude and selfish man, solely focused on money and his business. As before, you're expected to conform to his strict rules and spend your days under his watchful eye. But with just a glance, Miguel O’Hara, your father’s best friend and business partner, seems to shatter all your desires to comply with your father's suffocating expectations, and offers an enticing escape...

Just like before…

🔥tw/cw: Age Gape, Big Dick Miguel, Body Worship, Car Sex, Cock Bulge, Cunnilingus, Desperation, Dirty Talk, Forbidden love, Modern AU, Multiple Orgasms, Oral Sex, Size Difference

❤️‍🔥Pet names: Amor (Love), Bebè (Baby), Cariño (Darling), Mi amor (My love) Princesa (Princess), Querida (Dear)

     🖤Rating: 18+ explicit I SMUT I

 🥀 Word Count: 8.2k words

As you stepped through the wrought iron gates of your father’s manor, a wave of nostalgia washed over you. It had been four years since you last set foot here, having been away studying abroad. Now, back home, everything felt familiar...

But not in a good way.

The scent of freshly cut grass mingled with the aroma of sizzling meat on the grill, filling the air as your heels clicked cautiously on the smooth paved pathways leading to the center of your father’s luxurious backyard, where your 'Welcome Home' party was to be held. Yet, deep down, you knew it wouldn’t be the warm reception you hoped for.

The atmosphere exuded polished formality, with every blade of grass meticulously groomed to perfection. The yard held an aura that compelled one to straighten their posture and don their most radiant smile. Small tables, draped with white cloth, adorned the grassy area, displaying an array of finger foods and appetizers. Servants circulated with trays of alcoholic beverages, adding to the air of sophistication. Every attendee was elegantly attired, clad in lavish dresses, uptight suits, diamond necklaces, and gold bands, engaged in hushed gossip in small groups.

‘No wonder Jessica styled me this way,’ you thought, scanning the guests who greeted you with smiles, waves, and brief 'Welcome back's.' Jessica Owens, your personal assistant whom you hadn’t seen in years, had welcomed you at the airport and accompanied you to select a divine outfit tailored to your tastes for the occasion.

A one-shoulder column sequin dress hugged your figure, its scarlet red fabric boasting a leg slit that offered a glimpse of the matching closed-toe, ankle strapped heels you wore. Bold chandelier earrings adorned your ears, drawing attention to your exposed shoulder, while a delicate bracelet with sparkling gemstones adorned your wrist, subtly shimmering in the light.

Makeup further accentuated your beauty—a radiant red lip, sultry eyes, and flawless complexion with highlights completed your look. Your hair, styled as per Jessica's suggestion, cascaded around your face, having been released from an updo to frame your features perfectly.

You could feel eyes on you from every direction, a sensation you didn’t miss on your time away. The overwhelming attention began to stir a wave of nervousness within you. Seeking a moment to collect yourself, you slipped away to a secluded corner of the gathering, observing the events of your supposed 'Welcome Back' party from afar.

Musicians played a steady and upbeat tune, chatter and fraudulent giggles echoed throughout the night. Amongst the festivities, an even more rambunctious laugh caught your attention.

Your father, gleaming in a tailored suit, stood at the center of the gathering. Just like you remembered, his smile was as polished and white as the silverware laid out on the tables, scrubbed to perfection and shining like stars. Studying your father like a book, you couldn’t help but notice his forced chuckles and strained cheeks from grinning too much, a sight that churned your stomach.

After all these years, he remained unchanged—viewing you as nothing more than a tool for gaining him attention.

So why the hell did you expect a warm hug and genuine affection from him without a crowd present? 

Rolling your eyes, you politely signaled to a nearby server to fetch a champagne glass from his tray. You knew you would need it to endure the rest of the evening filled with your father's rehearsed conversations and gestures.

Taking a long sip from your glass, relishing its divine taste and the sizzling burn down your throat. Upon lifting it from your lips with a contented sigh, a voice filled your ears, causing your heart to skip a beat.

"Look at you, all grown up."

The abruptness of the deep, Latino-accented words left you momentarily speechless, a whirlwind of emotions bursting inside you like fireworks against a starlit sky.

There was no mistaking whose voice it belonged to...

It was one you could never forget during your time away, and just thinking about him made butterflies dance in your belly.

"Miggy?" 

You called out the sweet nickname of the older male in shock, turning your gaze up to the towering figure before you, successfully avoiding choking on your champagne in the process.

True to form, his tan face retained its stoic expression, marked by a scowl, tight-knit bushy eyebrows, and stern amber eyes, yet even you could see the familiar corners of his lips draw up into a tight lipped smile. 

"It's nice to see you again, Y/N," he replied nonchalantly, causing your entire face to light up. "Miggy!" You exclaimed, throwing your free arm around his neck as he chuckled lowly at your enthusiasm.

"What did I tell you about hugs, hmm?" he inquired, practically whispering into your ear, though you couldn't ignore the loving undertone in his deep voice. "That you didn't like them, but I do it anyway," you giggled, standing on tiptoes to deepen the embrace due to his towering height. Despite himself, you felt one of Miguel's burly arms wrap around you, pulling you close in return.

You sighed in contentment, his body heat engulfing your smaller self compared to his massive 6’9 height and muscular figure. The Latino's woodsy and wealthy cologne clouded your senses just like before, as the nostalgic feeling of security filled your being. 

I take it you missed me, Cariño," he uttered from above you, his gruff voice rumbling through the expanse of his chest. You nodded, snuggling into his beige collared and button-up top, eliciting a rare hum of contentment from the typically stoic man.

After a while, his arm gave your body another comforting squeeze before reluctantly pulling away. You pushed back the pang of sadness at his sudden absence of warmth.

Clearing your throat, you redirect your focus, following Miguel's gaze to the bustling, fancy gathering, a tranquil silence settling between the two of you.

"How was studying abroad?" Miguel's deep voice, though always soothing, retained its usual coldness. "It was honestly fun," you smiled, recalling the freedom you enjoyed without the scrutiny of your father's strict eye. To your surprise, Miguel scoffed in amusement, shaking his head.

Your eyebrows raised in confusion, and you turned to see him taking a sip from the glass of bourbon you hadn't noticed before in his hand. "What is it?" you urged, causing him to shake his head dismissively once more. But upon his amber eyes catching your growing pout, an expression you knew was always his weakness, he heaved a sigh.

"Dios mío, ese maldito puchero tuyo." He muttered under his breath, turning to face you fully. "I'm not... pleased with the amount of 'fun' you had away," the older male stated, leaving you confused.

"W-what are you talking about?" you chuckled, watching him nod towards your champagne glass. "You are drinking... You didn't before," he acknowledged.

You followed his gaze to your half-empty champagne glass, a remnant of your previous gulp. "Why does it matter? It's just one glass," you stated, emphasizing your point with another sip, which seemed more like a gulp in Miguel's eyes.

"Querida, before, you could barely handle half a glass, let alone one," he scolded, unable to tear his eyes away from your alcoholic beverage. You gave Miguel a small smile, his overprotectiveness—a trait you actually missed while you were away—evident in every word he uttered.

"Relax," you tried to reassure. "I can handle my alcohol now, Miggy. There's no need to worry." At your words, he huffed, turning his gaze from you back to the gathering unfolding before you. "So you went abroad to become a party animal?" he asked under his breath, the question unsettling you like a disturbed hive. Your face twisted in confusion and a hint of hurt at his comment. "No, I didn't. I went because I wanted to, something I see you still do not understand," you explained, feeling your fingers tighten around the underside of your glass in growing irritation.

Miguel sighed in disapproval, taking a gulp of his dark brown drink. "I just find it hard to believe," he replied. "Studying abroad of all places?" he chuckled, tapping his ringed middle finger against his glass. "I didn't take you as someone to run away from your problems, princesa."

"I didn't run away," you retorted, shooting him a small glare before finding your eyes drawn to your father, who was shaking hands with a well-dressed man and woman. The more you stared at your 53-year-old father, the more your thoughts churned. 

‘Did you leave because of your father?’ you pondered as he was indeed one of the reasons, but mainly you departed to study far away from home to pursue your dreams—something your father greatly opposed.

Being away from your father and his strict rules felt like taking a breath of fresh air. It was the most free you had ever felt. But now, back home, the overwhelming restrictions and harsh regulations felt suffocating, and you wanted nothing more than to retreat back to the paradise you found on your own…

Your thoughts were soon interrupted when a set of ringed fingers gently cupped your chin, turning you to meet the owner of such calloused digits.

With surprise, you found yourself face-to-face with Miguel, his features still stern, his jaw clenched, but his touch gentle, and the coldness in his eyes replaced with something softer.

"I missed you, mi amor..." 

He whispered suddenly, his thumb caressing your skin affectionately. Your heart fluttered at the vulnerability in his words, as memories of every moment spent with him flooded back: Every conversation, every touch, every kiss, and every passionate night rose to the surface of your mind. 

Like a reviving fire, his mere words set your body ablaze. 

You never saw Miguel in this state, never heard him utter something affectionate to you as his love was mostly shown through his actions, making his confession leave you shocked and speechless...

Despite your disapproval and your desire for him to move on, Miguel had waited for you as he promised. The thought of you being gone from his side was unbearable for him. 

Every waking moment was excruciating, every sleeping night insufferable.

He knew how much you wanted to pursue your own dreams and be free of your father, whom Miguel knew all too well as someone very snobbish and selfish. But being away from you for so long was a pain he couldn't bear.

You and Miguel loved each other in secret, the two of you became so good at pretending, one only saw you two as just friends. But your father and Miguel were close—

Very close.

Miguel and your father were business partners before they were best friends. Your father managed the finances and marketing of their shared bourbon line, while Miguel owned distilleries and oversaw production, even owning his own bars where his bourbon was the highlighted beverage.

Their booming business soon forged a friendship, and like welcoming one to the family, your father introduced Miguel to you.

At the time, you were young, and Miguel was evidently older, but when your eyes met, you both fell hard.

You started off as friends, Miguel being a wise, older male you went to for advice, and you were someone who kept Miguel company, even though he once adored being alone. 

The more time you spent together, the deeper your feelings grew, until you both made it official to date in secret.

From then on, private getaways, hidden touches, and shared nights of passion became the norm, despite knowing how enraged your father would be if he discovered such a thing. But neither of you minded; staying attentive and careful kept your secret safe.

It wasn't until you confided in Miguel about your desires to leave and study abroad that reality kicked in.

All at once, your hidden life of fantasy collapsed.

You were going to leave to pursue your dreams, departing from Miguel for four years...

Miguel loathed that, and even more, he despised your reasoning. He wanted it to be because of your strict father, the overbearing rules he'd set upon you. Miguel didn't mind if you left because of him even! But you weren't going for either of those reasons.

"For me, Miggy. I want to go for myself," were the words you stated when he inquired why you must go.

He detested your reason because he knew he shouldn't fight you in the matter; it was what you desired. But he was selfish—possessive even. He wanted you, needed you by his side, so he couldn't accept you leaving him.

Many arguments ensued on the matter. He demanded you to stay, while you found every good reason to leave and achieve your dreams, ones that your father opposed you seeking. It ultimately led to you deciding to put an end to your secret relationship with Miguel.

It wasn't because of the many fights and arguments, but because you knew he loved you too much—too much that you didn't want him to miss you so intensely that it hurt, to the point where it would leave him in an irreparable state. 

To spare you distress and further heartbreak, Miguel agreed to end things, despite his sorrow and disdain at the thought of breaking up. However, while you were concerned about his emotional stability, Miguel's workaholic tendencies got the best of him after your departure—a trait only you could suppress.

He threw himself into his shared bourbon business with your father, meticulously tasting from each of his twenty distilleries, meeting daily with all his workers for updates, making significant improvements on the bars he oversaw, and even holding one-on-one meetings with your father to explore new ways to expand their bourbon industry. He became addicted to caffeine and deprived himself of sleep, to the point where hibernation seemed like the only cure to replenish his exhausted body. 

Miguel worked tirelessly in this manner simply to avoid missing you, and he consumed so much of his own bourbon that he might as well have emptied an entire distillery on his own.

Nevertheless, his attempts were useless…

Miguel thought of you and craved you every day. He spent his days recalling every aspect of you: your smile, your laugh, your fragrance, your hair, your body, and even your affection, which he once found discomforting due to his lack of familiarity with it, but now desired more than ever.

Despite Miguel's best efforts to forget you, he only fell deeper in love with you.  

His days of agony came to an end when Miguel was invited to dinner and golfing with your father. There, on the field, Miguel discovered that you'd be returning back home—back to him.

His heart skipped a beat at the exciting news, leaving him unable to perform a good swing as his golf game with your father proceeded; but to hell with it...

You were returning, and that was all that mattered.

On the day of your Welcome Back party, he found himself picky over his outfit, clicking his tongue and angrily muttering in Spanish at every disappointing attire he came across... until he found the one.

A beige, loosely buttoned top, styled with a matching sienna brown blazer and dress pants was his selection. Pairing it with his attire, he added dark umber oxfords.

To accessorize, the Latino added a complementary belt that matched his shoes and a classic watch with brown leather straps. Gold rings adorned his thick fingers, and a simple chain graced his exposed, muscular throat.

As he put on his outfit for the party, he found himself more nervous than excited. The last few times he'd seen you weren't on good terms. The days of secret getaways, kisses, and passionate touches always led to an argument about your departure, so he was worried you'd still be upset with him…

At the gathering, he found himself eagerly watching the entrance for you, his glass of bourbon in hand. His heart rose and fell with each arrival of another lavishly dressed guest, leading him to believe you wouldn't show.

Until you did...

It felt like everything stopped—the melodic tunes from the musicians faded away, the jumbled conversing of the partygoers ceased—as the only thing he heard was his heart beating loudly against his chest.

You were always beautiful to the older male, but tonight, after not seeing you for so long, you were utterly breathtaking.

His gaze trailed along your figure, remembering all the times he held your form in his hands, felt your body heat, and soft skin. He instantly noticed how enticing that scarlet dress hugged your body, teasing him to do the unthinkable right there, be damned to who was watching.

But amidst his burning desire, in that moment, he could only think one thing, and one thing only: 

"Gosh, I've missed you..." 

Before he could ponder or stop himself, he found himself leaving his spot to walk over to you, and the closer he got, the more his heart felt like it wanted to burst from his chest as flashes of what you shared before played on repeat in his head.

And now as you gazed up into Miguel's hardened amber eyes, you could see love for you in them. His thumb gently tracing patterns along your chin as you were still processing his touch, the closeness and the confession that spilled from his lips.

‘He... missed me?’ You repeated to yourself, almost finding it unbelievable if it wasn't for how he was looking at you as if you were the only woman in the room.

“M-Miggy…” You whispered when suddenly your heart dropped at the sound of another voice approaching.

“Why, if it isn't my little angel?”

Like the speed of light, you jumped away from Miguel to cast your eyes onto your father, instinctively gaining the urge to hide behind your champagne glass.Miguel's face returned to its usual expression of stoicism, hating how the both of you were interrupted. 

“Hello, father,” you said, lacking your previous enthusiasm that you showed Miguel, however, your father ignored you, hastily turning his eyes to his best friend and business partner instead. “And, of course, Miguel O'Hara,” your father grinned, giving the Latino a firm handshake before going into a ramble. “I'd love to set a meeting with you about the idea of releasing a limited-edition bourbon,” he proposed in a jolly tone, business seeming to be the only topic he spoke of.

“Imagine just how much buzz would circulate amongst customers, the collectors, and don't forget the drive sales,” your father beamed at the thought as you watched the interaction between the two men in silence.

Miguel simply grunted to show his attentiveness, but neither agreed nor disagreed with your father's business idea. “I'd rather enjoy welcoming your daughter home. We can speak about business at another time,” Miguel stated, casting a glance over at you before turning his sharp gaze back to your father.

Your dad's smile faltered at being dismissed, clearing his throat. “Of course, of course,” he concurred, turning to you due to Miguel’s mentioning of you, his daughter. “I'm happy you are… back, daughter. I hope you used your time away wisely,” he added, causing your eyebrows to narrow. ‘Wisely? What the hell does that mean?!’ you thought, knowing your father was an expert at backhanded comments and sly insults that can be described like poisoned cake—you never noticed the venom underneath his sweetness.

“I did. I enjoyed doing something to benefit myself for a change,” you politely said, adding more salt into the wound by downing the rest of your champagne. Your father's eyes looked down at your empty glass and then at you in irritation.

Casting a fake smile, he glanced at Miguel. “My apologies in advance, my friend, but it's nothing new seeing my disobedient daughter behave so poorly,” your father said, feeling your stomach twist into knots when he looked back at you, his facade of kindness dissolved into a snarl. “She thinks that she owns the place after leaving for a few years, it's only right I put her back in her place,” your father stated to Miguel, more than you.

Keeping your gaze on your horrible parent rather than the older Latino, you waited for your father's harsh words knowing they were to rain down on you like hellfire, and like anticipated…

it did…

“Listen here, girl, you might have fled from here for whatever reason, but I didn't,” he spat, eyes full of hatred staring back at you. “Without me, our family name would have been forgotten long ago; but for the entirety of my fifty-three years of life, I've worked my ass off to provide for us, and I'll continue to do so until my dying breath,” he said in anger between the three of you.

“And now that you've returned, I won't allow my selfish brat of a daughter to ruin things for me,” your father growled as you narrowed your eyes at him, reciprocating his disdain, but it only seemed to amuse him even more. He chuckled, giving your cheek a harsh pinch. “So do not think being away changes a thing, I expect the same from you as before—obedience and perfection,” he said, patting your face with each word. “Understand, or do I need Miguel here to say it in Spanish for you?” he asked with a smirk as it took everything to prevent the frustrated and angry tears from spilling down your cheeks.

You couldn't hear or see anything or anyone, only feel the overwhelming feeling of entrapment once again. It engulfed your being, feeling like a pair of hands were strangling you, and you were powerless against it…

All over again.

With a shaky breath, you stared back at him with eyes full of raging fire. “Yes…I fucking understand,” you said through gritted teeth, causing the businessman to laugh.

“Good and clean that attitude, girl. I never did like that mouth of yours,” he said, glancing over at Miguel, whose face was still completely hardened, emotionless, but a kinder tone was used by your father when speaking with him. “If you'd like, the meat is being served at the buffet table as we speak, my friend. I heard it's very tender and is satisfactory when hot,” your father smiled. “But I hope you enjoy the gathering. Miguel. Daughter,” he growled, casting you a glare and a hint of disgust found in the way he addressed you before he departed entirely—disappearing into the bustling yard of elegantly clothed persons and leaving you enraged. 

You stared at the spot your father previously stood in, a blazing fire of anger sizzling inside your being. Gripping your wine glass so tightly your knuckles whitened, you turned on your heel, shoving the empty cup into a passing servant's hands on your way out. 

Everything faded around you as the only thing you desired in that moment was getting away—from this party, rich society, and most importantly, your asshole of a father. You didn’t walk far before a large hand grasped your wrist, pulling you into a secluded spot out of the ear and eyeshot of the partygoers.

With a piercing gaze, you looked up, ready to release the fury that had grown inside of you when your eyes met Miguel’s narrowed, yet, concerned ones. His towering frame cornered you against the trunk of one of your father’s massive oak trees in his backyard, a tree he ordered to be particularly planted in this area.

Although Miguel normally didn’t care for others, finding empathy a hard thing, his heart tugged whenever you became like this. “Are you alright? It looks like you want to strangle someone?” He asked, amber eyes tracing every detail of your face in search of what you were feeling inside, but your turmoil was evident.

You released an unsteady exhale, the calm before the brewing storm. “Y-You saw him!” You exclaimed. “T-That rich bastard that has his money shoved so far up his damn ass, he’ll probably believe the sky is green if it means his pockets will be filled.” You ranted in anger, every word making you feel so much better, leaving you to continue your spurge. “And he’s so controlling that it’s suffocating; whenever my father is in the room…, I-I feel like I’m dying, Miguel.” The confession left your lips before you could stop yourself, angry tears beginning to run down your face.

“A-And, he pretends he’s such a great father, going around speaking of me—of my hobbies, interests, and so much more that is all bullshit. He doesn’t know and doesn’t care to know.” You cried, trying to wipe your cheeks clean of the tears, but they continued to fall despite your efforts. “My father only cares about himself, more than anything else.” You said in a brittle voice.

“The world can end tomorrow and he’ll still be trying to get over on everyone, and count every dime he has to make sure his pockets are hefty before his time ends.” You sniffled, shaking your head in irritation, the fury in your voice escaping into sorrow. “And…I’m just done. I can’t- I can’t do this anymore.” You admitted with a trembling sigh.

“I can’t be around him anymore, live with his lies, under his rules, and like I cannot exist in his presence.” You told Miguel as after your venting, you looked up at him to find his usual stoic features staring back at you. His tanned face devoid of emotion as he simply stood over you, listening like he always did.

You bit your lip, feeling a little embarrassed after saying so many deep things to Miguel—things you’ve never actually told him in-depth, but could simply be noticed as your father didn’t hold anything back from the rich Latino. “I’m sorry, I-I’ll just go.” You said, trying to walk around him when his hand was placed onto the tree behind you, blocking you under him. “No.” He said with the shake of his head, his coffee-brown curls swaying with the movement.

You gasped, eyes snapping up to meet him in confusion when his large hand cupped your rose-tinted cheek, his thumb delicately swiping away a stray tear. “I hated the way he speaks to you; I’ve always did.” He uttered, disdain found in his deep tone. “I’ve offered you many times in the past, Querida, to let me handle it— let me handle your father, and you turn me down each and every time.” He sighed, his amber orbs staring down at you in a blend of rage for the situation you were in, but also in sympathy.

A frown graced your lips, remembering what he spoke of. “Yes…I-I did, because it’s my burden to take on—my problem to deal with, not yours.” You tried to explain. “And if you intervene, it’ll surely ruin things with your shared business with my father.”

“To hell with it.” He spat, his hand moving from your cheek to grasp your hips possessively. “We've tried it your way for years and nothing has changed.” He retorted in anger. “Your father continues to treat you like muck on his shoe while I have to sit and watch.” Miguel said, his eyes narrowed in irritation, his jaw clenched, but his anger settled upon seeing your tears start to flow once more. 

“Listen to me, Cariño.” He began, staring into your eyes. “Your burdens are my burdens—your problems are my problems.” He said, determination etched on his tanned face. “I will not sit around any longer and allow your father to treat you like this, I can’t, and I won’t.” He blatantly told you.

Your heart fluttered at his words, despite not agreeing with Miguel's logic. Looking over his stern features, you could see that there was no way you could stop him—when his mind and heart were set on something, he sought to see it through. You averted your gaze away from the Latino, torn on the newfound decision he’d made. 

A quietness settled between the two of you, the gentle breeze of the wind, tunes and laughter from the distant party filling the silence.

Miguel's thick eyebrows furrowed, not expecting your reaction to be this. He rubbed your hip soothingly, trying to meet your gaze once more. “May you do something for me, Querida…? Y/N?�� He said, your name being uttered by him was rare, using it only during serious talks, just like this one.

Without looking at him, you nodded, feeling his burly arm around your waist and soon his breath fanning against your ear. “I want you to forget about your troubles and give your worries to me to bear.” He uttered, caressing your lower back in gentle, loving circles.

“And in return, allow me to make things better for you, mi amor.” 

His words made your stomach flip as your head snapped to meet his gaze. Since you’ve arrived back home, a new side of Miguel has been introduced to you—one that you had never seen.

Before, he was always cold and stern, mostly only affectionate through a slight caress of the cheek, stroke of the hair, or even through a kiss that usually was controlled and led by him. 

He’d never actually spoken sentiments in this way to you, and it made you utterly speechless.

“M-Miggy, I-” You tried to reply but your brain had become mush. Miguel gave you a tight-lipped smile, shushing you with a shake of his head once more. “Come…” He simply whispered, taking your wrist and turning to leave when you hastily stopped him. “Wait, wait, we can’t just leave together. I-It’ll lead to suspicion,” you told the Latino. Despite your hate for your father and the status your family held, you didn’t want to anger him, nor damage his most cherished reputation, believing you’ll surely bring a monster out of your father if you did so.

Miguel looked back at you with tenderness in his eyes. “What did I tell you, hmm?” He asked with a smirk, his gaze instantly mesmerizing you and leaving you unable to speak once more. “Let me take care of things with your father and the rich assholes out there,” he assured in his gruff voice that usually held a rough edge, now gone and replaced with a loving tone that made you melt.

The Latino leaned in close to you, his arm pulling you to his body by your waist. Miguel gazed down at you, his rich, woodsy cologne filling your senses and the feeling of his pecs against your body made a rush of desire burn up inside of you, replacing the fire of hate you previously felt for your father. “Let me make things better for you, amor,” he told you once more, but this time, the adoration for you was evident in his voice.

Your heart skipped a beat, noticing just how close the two of you were—lips just a hair's breadth away. “O-Okay,” you finally mustered, unable to prevent yourself from pulling him into a searing kiss. Miguel groaned in surprise, his hand gripping your waist tightly while his other clawed into your hair, drawing you closer to him.

Gasps of air escaped you, incapable of stopping as with every kiss, it cured the need that you both craved of each other. Teeth clashed and tongues entwined, hands gripping clothes to try and close the nonexistent space between each of your bodies. You only parted when in the distance, a loud applause filled the air, one that startled you both.

Jumping in each other’s embrace, you shared a gaze over at the gathering to find your father in the center, continuing to entertain his guests, their attention solely on him.

You rolled your eyes at the anticipated sight, turning back to Miguel to see that he was already staring at you. His amber orbs burned with longing, and when he pulled you close once more, you could feel his evident bulge pressing into your thigh.

“I can't wait another minute, amor. I need you. Now,” he practically demanded in a hushed whisper into your ear, a kiss pressed upon your lobe following his desire. However, his words and arousal sparked a fire inside of you, matching his own longing.

With just a shared gaze, he knew your response without you having to utter a single word…

‘Let's get out of here.’

Your fingers combed through Miguel’s coffee brown curls, pulling him deeper into the intoxicating kiss you shared as his large hands roamed your bare skin. You moaned into his lips when his hand grasped your breasts, squeezing the sensitive flesh. His ministrations caused the peaked tips to harden as his fingers didn’t hesitate to flick and roll them. Miguel’s mouth continued to ravage yours, your moans becoming lost in your shared passion.

Your eyes fluttered, trying to recall past events on how the two of you ended up in the backseat of his black Lamborghini Urus, unclothed and practically devouring each other like two rabid animals; but the only thing that came to mind was the burning desire to feel him, touch him, taste him... 

Just like before...

“G-goodness, I missed you.” You whimpered between kisses, his lips trailing along your jaw as his massive body pressed you into the leather cushions, his heavy weight and body heat only arousing you further.

He breathlessly chuckled against your throat, pressing a final kiss to your skin before meeting your eyes. “As have I, mi amor,” he confessed, looking down at you with newfound love in his brown orbs. Your heart palpated at the sight as he leaned in to press another kiss to your lips. “Allow us to make up for lost time,” he whispered with a smirk. To your delight, he began to lower down your body, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake: on your collarbone, through the valley of your breasts, to your navel, and finally settling between your thighs.

He passionately kissed your sensitive, plush skin before lifting your legs up to drape over his broad shoulders, bringing himself face-to-face with what he truly desired. You gasped, your lower back arching and rising off the soft cushions of the truck's seat, thankful for the enormity of your father's best friend's vehicle, as it provided plenty of space for all the activities you wished to partake in.

Your breathing came out shaky from anticipation, the warm air from your lover's lips onto your moist core doing nothing to calm your excitement. “Are you going to make love to it or simply stare?” You asked, almost breathless despite not even reaching the peak of your intimacy yet.

Miguel laughed at your fervency, his massive body rumbling. He glanced down, his eyes meeting yours. “I'm just admiring what is mine, amor—what has been away from me for so long,” he huskily uttered, running his thumb delicately along your folds and pressing a tender kiss to your inner thigh, the sensation spreading through your body like wildfire.

“I... appreciate the admiration, but I don't think I can wait any longer,” you honestly told him with a small panting giggle. Reaching up to run your fingers through his brown curls, a deep hum of satisfaction escaped his throat at your touch.

"So eager for me, princesa. Always so eager," he groaned, pressing a kiss to your throbbing bud before flicking out his tongue to taste your arousal. The sensation eliciting a loud gasp from deep within your chest.

"Mierda, sabes tan bien… Tal y como lo recordaba," he rambled gruffly in Spanish, burying his face into your heat and wrapping his arms around your midsection to pull you closer. His desire to not part from between your thighs was evident in the growing tightness of his bulging biceps around you—his muscles gripping you in a vice like a starving man with his rations.

Your eyes rolled, the sensations so foreign yet familiar as his tongue seemed to be everywhere at once: circling your bud, thrusting into your entrance, and sucking at your soft folds. “O-Oh gosh!” you exclaimed, realizing just how much your body had been craving and missing his skillful intimacy, his age undoubtedly playing a role in his experience.

An unshakable burning sensation in the pit of your stomach began to brew, the position Miguel held you in leaving you only able to succumb to the pleasure he was bestowing upon you. Your hands tangled in his hair, not having anything else to grasp onto, while your back arched into his mouth, seeking more of his lips and tongue.

“Muy bien, babygirl. Hmm…let me taste you.” He groaned, his breath ragged with desire. His thumbs widened your pussy lips, your soft hood lifting to expose your bundle of nerves as he focused his ministrations on the pink pearl. Like his life was at stake, his tongue suckled and swirled on your throbbing bud in a frenzy until you were a trembling mess underneath him. 

“M-Miggy!” You cried out, convulsing and shaking in his arms. “I-I’m cumming!” You screamed out, feeling him smirk against your core. “That's my girl. Come for me, princesa,” he urged, his efforts intensifying as your sensitivity increased. With a cry of ecstasy, you released the coil of knots in your belly, feeling your thighs become drenched in your juices, eagerly slurped up by your lover.

Miguel adored when you were like this, a twitching, moaning puddle underneath him, knowing he was the sole cause of it. It always left him with a sense of pride. 

With his tongue, he traced a final circle around your folds and kissed your clit before lowering your legs back down upon the seats. He hummed in satisfaction at your flushed cheeks and heaving chest, finding the sight utterly beautiful.

“How’s my girl? Not too much, I hope?” he asked with a breathless chuckle, climbing up to brush a strand of your disheveled hair behind your ear and press a kiss to your temple. You sighed in contentment, his tenderness sending a wave of warmth through your being.

You shook your head at his inquiry, eyes slowly flicking up to meet his gaze above you. “No, I’m okay,” you replied, bringing a smile upon the normally scowling male’s face. “Muy bien. I’m not done with you just yet, baby girl,” he snickered, pressing his forehead against yours, his musk and cologne filling your senses. “I promised to make you feel better. I plan to stand by that,” he affirmed, gently pecking your lips. Your heart swelled, and your core throbbed back to life at his words. You returned his kiss eagerly, wrapping your arms around his muscular neck as his gold chain dangled from his throat.

When Miguel parted and gazed down at you, he saw nothing but devotion and love for him in your eyes—a sight that he’d never thought he’d see before. He nuzzled his face into your neck, relishing in your divine scent that he’d missed so much. Miguel’s hands caressed your bare waist, feeling the soft skin underneath his calloused, ringed fingers. His cock was painfully hard, the only thing soothing his need was the subtle grinding of his member against your thighs, and even still it wasn’t helping.

You bit your lip, feeling just how solid and needy he was, the knowledge only making you wetter. “M-Miggy…I need you,” you whimpered, wanting nothing more than to feel him after so long. Miguel grinned, finding your pleas to be music to his ears. He pressed a final kiss to your neck before parting, his hands grasping around your thighs to widen your legs for him.

A soft moan passed your lips at the contact of his tip brushing teasingly along your drenched folds, the erotic wet sounds echoing throughout the vehicle. “Are you ready for me, bebé?” Miguel practically groaned, his hand gripping your thigh, caressing gentle circles into your skin with his thumb. Biting your lip, you frantically nodded, unable to speak with how quickly your heart was beating and how filled with anticipation you were to be claimed by him again after your time apart.

Miguel growled at your response, guiding his length into your entrance as your joined moans filled the truck. You whined, feeling your walls stretch to accommodate his girthy length. “S-So big, Miggy,” you whimpered, burying your face into your arms. 

The Latino grunted, glancing up to see your concealed face. He took your arms in his hands, drawing, placing them to your sides to expose your facial features to his amber eyes. “I want to see you, amor,” he whispered. “I want to see my sweet girl’s face.” He murmured, leaning down to kiss your lips while waiting for you to adjust. 

Soft groans escaped him between kisses at each pulse of your walls around his length. Each peck of your lips was meant to be a cure for his burning desire to fuck your sweet pussy in total abandon after four years of being deprived of it; so he stuck to devouring your mouth whilst waiting for the magic words of your adjustment.

“I-I’m ready,” you told him between his intoxicating kisses, and Miguel promptly began to move. His thrusts started off slow and precise, each of his languid movements pulling a moan from deep within your chest. “S-So good…Miggy,” you were only able to muster, feeling every vein of his massive cock with his steady pace.

Miguel’s amber eyes were always trained on your face, constantly finding adoration for the pleasurable expressions that graced your beautiful features when the two of you were intimate. He leaned down over you, deepening his plunges as he gradually increased his speed until he snapped his hips into you in a frenzy.. “Yes, mierda, you feel so damn good…Fuck. Squeezing me just right,” he hoarsely said, his dark brown curls dampening against his forehead, and his grip on your hips tightening with each thrust.

Your eyes fluttered, hips moving to meet each of his movements. “M-Miggy…right there,” you begged, feeling your lover angle his hips to hit your desired spot repeatedly, causing your climax to hit you instantly. Your loud cry of pleasure erupted throughout the darken truck causing Miguel to smirk, pleased with bringing you to your orgasm so quickly; but not finished just yet. “Yes, princesa. There we go,” he muttered with pants. “But we’re not through yet, bebè. One more,” Miguel said. “Give me one more, babygirl.” He groaned, your stomach coiling again at his desire for you to release a second time as his thrusts resumed. .

The older Latino’s muscles flexed, his pecs and abs glistening with sweat and bulging with each brutal buck, his balls smacking into your ass. You could feel his pent-up frustration for your departure from him for the previous four years, every roll of his hips expressing his longing. “Fuck…I missed this pussy of yours, princesa,” he grunted. “Always so wet and tight for me,” he groaned between loud smacks of wet flesh.

Your chest heaved, legs trembling around his body as his shaft seemed to touch places inside of you that you didn't even know existed. Every plunge of his cock took your breath away, leaving only inaudible moans and slurred, unintelligible words to spill from your lips. Miguel cursed breathlessly, his eyes never leaving your face. He placed a hand above your head on the car seat, his thrusts deepening and making your eyes roll. 

Miguel could feel himself slipping; he was close—he was certain of that, but he wasn’t going to let himself go until you did for the second time. Leaning down, his mouth found your enticing peaked tits, his tongue swirling around your erect nipples. Your eyes screwed shut, back arching off of the cushions of the seat at the added pleasure coursing through your being. Miguel growled softly, sucking your breast into his mouth whilst his other hand dipped down between your legs, his thumb circling your throbbing clit.

With his ministrations, skilled tongue, and brutal pace, your body began to squirm underneath him, all of the sensations becoming too much to bear. A fire seemed to dance along your skin before your vision blurred, and soon another satisfying release washed over you. Miguel's lips pulled away from your breasts, the clenching of your walls bringing him to his climax. “Y/N- Ay cono, I’m cumming,” he said, plunging inside for the final time before a guttural groan erupted from his large chest. He hastily pulled out, his seed shooting from his tip to coat your bare stomach. You softly moaned, feeling his warm essence upon your abdomen, and soon his massive body atop yours once more.

A quiet silence fell upon the truck except for the panting of your joined breaths. You smiled softly down at him, finding his head upon your chest to be precious. “I take it that someone missed me,” you whispered playfully into the quietness once you caught your breath, repeating the same words he said upon the two of you seeing each other after four long years. He chuckled, rubbing your sides tenderly. “Must I admit it?” he asked, making you laugh. “Yes, it’ll make me very happy.”

“Fine,” Miguel stated, looking up to meet your eyes as amusement was gone from his features to become slightly serious. “When you were gone, I was a mess. I didn’t sleep, I drank a lot, and my work filled my days,” he confessed with a sigh, your heart sinking at his words. “Miggy…” you frowned, running your fingers through his hair to soothe him. Miguel melted at your caresses, eyes fluttering closed for a moment to relish in your touch. “I tried to forget you, but forgetting you only made the memories we shared even more prominent, making me want you further, crave you even, despite us being separated,” Miguel told you, while you listened. “So yes… I missed you so much, Y/N,” he smiled, leaning down to peck your lips. “And don’t leave me again, you understand?” he asked playfully, but you couldn’t help but feel that he meant it.

You cupped his face in your hand, stroking his cheek with your thumb. “I promise. I won’t be leaving ever again, but if I do… I’ll take you with me,” you giggled, bringing a small smile upon his lips. However, the topic made your father arise in your thoughts, as any reason for leaving would be because of him. 

Miguel noticed the saddened look that suddenly graced your features, causing his thick eyebrows to furrow. “What’s wrong, mi amor?” he asked, sitting up on the cushion of his truck’s seat, his hand gently rubbing your legs.

You sighed, biting your lip nervously. “My father… I can’t go back,” you admitted to not only Miguel but to yourself. The mere idea of returning to him, his suffocating rules, and lifestyle felt like a death sentence. The older Latino male gave you an emotionless look, his fingers tracing patterns along your calf, his mind seeming to be spinning.

“Then don’t…” 

Miguel's sudden proposal surprising you. "W-what?" you asked in disbelief, your shock making him chuckle. "Then don’t go back… live with me," he suggested. Skeptical, you eyed him, trying to determine if he was joking, but Miguel was always serious, so you knew he was being truthful. 

"But… I can’t just… stay with you, Miggy. It’ll draw suspicion—"

"Shh…" Miguel interrupted with a smirk, stroking your cheek softly with the back of his hand. "I won’t allow my girl to go back to a place where she isn’t comfortable," he explained. "So live with me,’ he stated once more. “I’ll provide for all your wants and needs, allow you to behave and speak however you like without any restrictions holding you down." Miguel's sincere voice was one you trusted more than anyone else's on this planet. 

"And… what if this angers my father?" you asked warily as Miguel chuckled. "You wouldn’t have to worry about that. You won’t have to see your father unless you wish to," he assured with a smirk. "And don’t concern yourself with me; the bastard cannot hurt me even if he tried," he added, reassuring you further. Your heart soared at his words. 

For the first time in your life, you were given a solution—an escape from your father and the enslaved life he’d placed you into. You pulled Miguel into a deep embrace, surprising him with the sudden affection, but he returned it nonetheless, wrapping his burly arms around you and pulling you close. 

Miguel caressed your bare lower back, relishing in your closeness as your next words made his entire body become rigid. 

“I love you, Miggy.” 

The endearing words escaped your lips, something he thought was as ethereal as your shared love for each other. Before he could ponder it, he found himself uttering the same words back—and wholeheartedly meaning it. 

“I love you too, Querida.”  

In that moment, you couldn’t fathom how happy you were about your freedom, but you were even more delighted that you could finally be happy with the man you loved. 

Certainly, there would be challenges and obstacles in the future, but you’ve never felt stronger and more confident to tackle them with Miguel O’Hara, your secret lover and father’s best friend, by your side. 

A/N: Thanks so much for reading!! I just want to say again that I'm very thankful for the patience that you, lovely people have given me for the past few weeks, months probably. 😅 So I'm very grateful. 😊

I have many story ideas, requests and the kink series, Entangled Desires to get to, I can only hope that I'm able to get more things out to you wonderful people in the next couple of days or so. There is a lot to get done as you can see lol! 😅

But once again, thank so much, and just want to give a shoutout to @serpentineaerodynamics. This girlie has been getting my brain flowing, since I've returned and she's gotten me pumped to get back into the groove of things. 💪🏽😁 So thank you bestie! Love ya! 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Make sure to like, comment, reblog, and follow! If you'd like to add a request to the kink series, Entangled Desire, or have an idea in general, just message me or submit an ask. I hope you all have a wonderful day and stay safe! ❤️❤️

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(*All rights reserved. DO NOT repost/translate/copy any of my work.*)

[robo-writing]

Half-hearted mechanic!reader x Tyler Owens Drabble because I can’t get Twisters out of my head since watching it, and by god do I have a love of cowboys with hearts of gold ❤️

You hear him before you see him, the loud radio in the distance followed by the tell-tale squeak of a loose grill—something you make a mental note to repair when you’re free.

You turn with a smile on your face, knowing there’s only one person who makes such a grand entrance, and he just so happens to be your favorite customer.

He tips his hat at you from the drivers seat before speaking, voice smooth and oh-so-honeyed. “Howdy there grease monkey.”

“And howdy to you adrenaline junkie,” you muse, leaning up against his beat-up red truck. “So, what have you broken this time? Besides the hearts of many women, of course.”

Tyler’s grin only widens. “You know me so well.”

He hops out of the car with a small grunt, scooping you into a hug that makes your stomach do flips. “That’s why you’re my best girl.”

You ignore how his words make you feel in favor of returning the gesture. “I’m the only mechanic within a 20 mile radius that’ll actually work on your Frankenstein of a car, Owens—“

“And I’m thankful for it every day,” he says, running back to the passenger side door. “So thankful in fact…”

He reaches inside for a moment, then comes back with a box. It’s simple—no frills, bells, or whistles to be seen—but its simplicity only piques your curiosity further.

He hands it to you bright-eyed, nodding towards the conspicuous looking package.

“Go on now, I wanna see your reaction.” He says, hands in his pockets. Tyler clamps his mouth shut in anticipation as you open it, and your reaction was more than worth the price it took for him to buy—

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me—“

He nods before gesturing to your brand new welding helmet. “You’d been sayin’ how your helmets been getting old so I thought it was time for an upgrade. It’s the least I could do.”

You look at the helmet in your hand, the matte black finish like velvet against your fingertips, and when you turn it around you can’t help but laugh at the bright red text plastered on the side.

“Truck wrangler? Really?” You giggle, admiring the old nickname he gave you the day you first met.

“Thought it was fitting.”

You hum your approval before taking the gift under your arm. “Thank you Tyler.”

“Pleasure is mine,” he says, tipping his hat towards you. “Besides, I owe you. Can’t exactly be a Tornado Wrangler if my ride’s not up to par can I?”

“So what you’re saying is…?” You tease, waiting to hear those magic words. Tyler’s eyes roll at your antics, but his smile betrays him.

“What I’m sayin’ is that I couldn’t do this—“

He grabs at his gold belt buckle, the glint of it catching in the sun. “—without you. I mean that.”

You had an idea, but to actually hear him say it makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and the way his eyes practically melt at the words you know he means it.

“Damn it Ty, you really know how to make a girl feel special huh?” You say, biting back a smile. You pull him into your arms without protest, a half-hearted attempt to hide just how happy you truly are. He offers a tight squeeze in return, not one to shy away from affection.

“Anything for you.”