#'aw it must be so hard for your crush to like you back'

[dazeddoodles]

Darius was sympathetic towards Raine about the break up until he found out THEY broke up with EDA. Now Darius is on Eda's side, Eda's not even on her own side.

[midnightmoonkiss]

Language Of Love

AlHaitham X GN! Reader

“‘Italics’” = he’s speaking another language

“So.. you can speak 20 languages?”

A random conversation.

It was easy to guess how you got to this point, boredom.

Spending time with your.. acquaintance, who you may or may not have a crush on, wasn’t on your agenda today, but here you are - sitting on a chair in his office as he effortlessly scribbles down sophisticated words onto parchment.

The sound was certainly pleasing to the ears, skrch sccrch sckrch.

You had no clue what he was doing. Oh, the duty of a scribe..

Or why you even came here..

No.

You knew why you came here, to spend time with him, as a friend only. Or maybe you were less than friends. It was hard putting a label on things when it came to the emotionally stunted AlHaitham. He was almost as bad as the General Mahamatra.

You just forgot how boring spending time with him can be if he’s busy working, thus leading you to flip through one of the many books on his bookshelf.

Yeah, you quickly got bored of that too.

These weren’t story books, they were informative books. You suppose to a man like him who enjoyed learning, this was like being surrounded by candy. To you? Its like being surrounded by encyclopedias.

He probably reads encyclopedias for fun.

So here you were, starting a conversation on a little fact you heard an academia student mutter like it was a piece of gossip even though it was probably outlined somewhere.

“Yes,” The scratching of quill to paper continues even as he glances up at you for a split second, “It’s important for scholars to broaden their knowledge and fluency of languages as to not hinder important research that may be written in a different dialect.”

All of Teyvat spoke the same language, it was easy to wonder why everyone from ancient times suddenly decided to switch. Of course you wouldn’t ask him such a thing, not right now anyway.

You had a plan.

A plan to woo this man.

The many failed attempts before can not hinder you.

Smugly, you said to him, “I bet I know one language you can’t speak.”

Oh, you were already giddy.

Curiosity peaked, his scribbling halted, eyes on you, “Is that so?” He was eager to hear you answer.

Whether you were toying with him, or genuinely knew a language he could add to his list, he was willing to listen.

“Do tell.”

Clearing your throat, you sat up straight and gave him a cocky smile, “The language of love.”

You were met with silence, as expected.

He was starstruck, surely. In awe. Was he wooed?

You could easily speak up with the punchline after his response, oh!! You would say, ‘but I can teach you!!’

Oh, he’s about to respond! He’s-!

“You must be referring to the ancient Fontaine language used by higher class citizens, commonly known to scholars as the language of love due to how words would ‘roll off the tongue like silk’ when speaking it.“

–an idiot? You were gobsmacked.

And he was smirking on the inside.

“I’m surprised you know of this language, you must have learned something from one of the books you’ve flipped through in the library.”

“That’s not,”

“I can even demonstrate it for you.”

“Wait!”

You began to fluster as he indeed began speaking a language completely foreign to your ears.

He was right, the words did flow silkily. This did not make you feel any better. Your pickup line failed miserably.

“‘You are so adorable, trying to trick me like this.’”

You can’t help but pout, wondering just what he was saying.

“‘Look at you, cheeks flushed and puffed like a fish. Honestly, how am I supposed to work efficiently if you’re here distracting me.’”

“Aw come on,” You began to complain, frowning at the gloating male, “I can’t understand you, y’know.”

“‘I do wonder if you’re aware that I know you like me, you wear your heart on your sleeves, my dear,’” he smiles ever so slightly, which completely unnerves you, “‘I like you too.’”

His cheek rests on his knuckles as he leans back and observes your frustration. Oh, how happy he was you brought this up. Any chance to show off his ability and confess without you knowing is always a good opportunity.

He’d shower you in compliments and confessions in all 20 languages if he had the time, perhaps even spill secrets to your unknowing ears.

Oh, how he would like that. He could say his deepest, darkest desires and you’d only look at him with confusion.. maybe even annoyance.

The thought pleased the busy scholar.

“That’s so mean you know, am I supposed to look up your words in a dictionary or something?”

“Oh, they wouldn’t be in a dictionary.” He reaches forward and tugs at your cheek, elation swirling in his broad chest as you whine and swat at his large arm.

“Should you remind me at a later date,” when he’s finally made you his, of course, “I’ll happily tell you what I said.”

“How about right now.”

“It is not a later date, only the time has changed.” Breathing out a sigh, faking annoyance, he turns his attention back to his paperwork, picking back up his quill.

“Ok, so I can ask you tomorrow.”

“You can, however, I’m under no obligation to tell you until I want to.”

“I dislike you very much, Scribe.” You grumbled, settling back in your seat.

He chuckles to himself, “I’m sure you do, ‘sweetheart.’”

[lunajay33]

Migraine🕷️

Summary: You get frequent migraines but they’ve been mia since the apocalypse but even since you got to the farm they’ve returned but you didn’t wanna bother anyone until Daryl finds you balled up on the floor in pain

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x f!reader

Request by @avrmee

•Masterlist•

Soul crushing migranes were always a struggle to deal with before the world ended, but there was ways to try and relieve them, medicine, piercings, acupuncture but now that it’s been about a year and there was no more medicine or anything really the migraines came back and almost stronger than before

They’d come on when the heat was high and the sun was near blinding, triggering what ever it was in your head to cause crippling pain that no matter how much pressure you applied to your eyes or the amount of water you drank it didn’t matter, but in this world you couldn’t afford to take a day off especially with all the work the others were putting into the prison it was only fair you pull your weight even through the pain

Walking out of prison, opening the door to the blinding white light that was the Georgia sun stung just hoping it didn’t flair up another episode, walking out to the court yard where Daryl was tinkering on his bike you sat next to him

“I missed you this morning” you said leaning your head against his shoulder as he used a wrench against…..well you have no clue but you loved watching him work

“Sorry ya know I’m an early riser plus ya’ve been sleeping lot longer now, ya okay?”

You didn’t wanna worry him and tell him that after these long days of over exerting yourself in the heat that the pain in your head kept you awake late into the night causing you to wake up later than everyone else

“Oh yeah I’m fine, just tired is all, plus I got a beautiful sight next to me at night it’s hard to fall asleep” you laughed poking his side making him gruff out a laugh

“Well I have to go work on the crowd of walkers around the fence, if you need me I’ll be there” I said leaving his side walking down to the entrance gate, using a pole to take down as many walkers as you could working your way down the fence, working for hours when you felt an aura around your head, the groans and snaps of jaws became louder and overwhelming, your knees became weak, you became nauseous as your vision became blurred and specked with black dots, all topped off by the painful pressure in your head

Losing control you dropped to the gravel clutching your head in your hands, knees tucked up to your chest, whining from the pain, this is one of the worst it’s ever been, in the distance you could hear your name being yelled but everything was so overwhelming you couldn’t even process it until the screams got closer

“Y/n baby what’s wrong” Daryl asked holding your body close to his, your head in his lap as he rubbed your back

“It…….it hurts so much” you whined as you clutched your head more wishing for this pain to fade

He just held you for what felt like half an hour trying to comfort me, the walkers noises started to dwindle someone must have came down with Daryl to take them out, you huffed out a breath as the pain subsided a bit giving you enough strength to sit up, seeing his worried expression

“What happened?” He asked brushing my disheveled hair back

“I get this awful migraines, I didn’t wanna say anything and use it as an excuse but they keep me up at night but sometimes they get so bad, like this and I don’t know how to stop them”

“Darlin ya should have said something, we’d understand, I could’ve tried to help ya at night”

“I know how hard you work all day you need your sleep”

“But if yer feeling sick yer more important, promise me you’ll let me help ya”

You bit your lip hesitant not wanting to be a burden

“Y/n” he said sternly

“Okay I promise”

“Good, ya know yer damn stubborn”

“You love me” you said smiling

“Yer lucky I do”

[slayfics]

Eijiro confesses his feelings to you and Katsuki.

Kiribaku x Reader

1,600 words~

You turned the page in the book as you sunk more into Eijiro's bed.

"UGH!" I'm tired of studying!" You exclaimed, unable to hold in your frustration anymore.

"Same- let's take a break," Eijiro concluded setting aside his book.

"Tch- no wonder you damn extras are always complaining about the exams. You don't work hard enough!" Katsuki barked at you both.

"Awe- come on Bakugo we deserve a break," Eijiro pleaded. "Plus... I kind of wanted to talk to you both about something."

"What's wrong?" Bakugo asked his friend curiously.

"Nothing's wrong I just-" Eijiro began to say before being cut off by Katsuki.

"Yes, there is. You got that stupid look in your eye. Just tell us," He demanded.

"Well ok... here it goes... so I uh- I have a crush I guess-" Eijiro began.

"Aweeee~" You began to say in a sing-song voice. Katsuki grunted and rolled his eyes looking back at his studying materials.

"Don't be mean Bakugo!" You spat and knocked the studying materials out of his hand.

"HEY!" He began to yell at you before Eijiro spoke up again.

"You guys, come on! I really need help!"

"Fine! Just be quick and spit it out. This shit makes me uncomfortable," Katsuki replied.

"I like um someone, and I just don't know what to do about it..." Eijiro finished.

"Fucking tell them and stop bugging us about it," Katsuki said bluntly.

"Don't listen to him," you said giving Katsuki a playful shove.

"God damn it extra! THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING!" Katsuki yelled at you, frustrated by your playfulness.

You ignored Katsuki and continued talking to Eijiro. "As much as I hate to admit it, Bakugo's right. Just be honest with her," you said smiling at him.

"Oh well um- I just don't know how they will react," Eijiro said, Katsuki stayed silent with his arms crossed, his disdain for this conversation all too obvious.

"Oh, they? I'm sorry for assuming Kirishima! Is this a boy? Or wait, non-binary?"

"N-no- well I mean k-kind of-?" Eijiro said, stuttering his words suddenly.

"Oh! They must be gender fluid?" You asked.

"Um- Uh- I uh- I don't know- but- that's not the point!" Eijiro said, starting to get flustered as he looked between you and Katsuki nervously.

"The hell?" Katsuki grumbled, raising an eyebrow. "Why are you being so damn weird about this shitty hair? Who the fuck is it anyway?"

"I uh... I don't know if I can say yet- well maybe- I don't know," Eijiro said, letting out a big sigh and hiding his face in his hands.

"Sorry, are we overwhelming you? Just tell us how to help. We're here for you Kirishima." You said, patting him on the back.

Eijiro mumbled into his hands, "What happens if I tell them, and they don't feel the same?"

"HA?!! THEN I'LL MURDER THEM!!" Katsuki yelled. "How could they not feel the same?? You're going to be an amazing pro hero, and you're always too damn nice to everyone so- yeah- of course they will feel the same idiot," Katsuki said and looked away from you both, his arms crossing just a bit tighter as he wondered who could have caught Eijiro's attention.

Katsuki was very observant, so the fact that he hadn't noticed his best friend and developed a crush on someone was dumbfounding him. More important, he was concerned about who, and if they'd be good enough for Eijiro.

Eijiro picked his head up from his hands, a small blush was tinted on his cheeks at Katsuki's compliments.

"You- you really think so?" He asked.

"Duh- I don't just say shit to say it dumb ass," Katsuki said.

"Well so... if they do feel the same- then what do I do?" Eijiro asked.

You tilted your head to the side, "What do you mean, Kirishima?"

"Like- if they... feel the same way about me... then what? Where do I go from there?" He asked.

"Well then maybe plan a day to spend time together? That way you can get to know them more." You suggested.

"Hmmm...," Eijiro mumbled and looked down. "Well what if... what if I already spend a lot of time with... them?" he asked, and hesitantly looked back up at you.

"Oh uh... well I don't know, maybe you just give them a kiss, if you both are confessing your feelings?" You said and started to wonder more about what was going on. It seemed like nothing you and Katsuki had said was making Eijiro feel any better. He actually seemed to be more on edge now.

"Oh man," Eijiro said and hid his face again.

"The hell is wrong now?!" Katsuki asked annoyed.

"This is so not manly at all but- I've never kissed anyone before," Eijiro said.

"You're joking right?" Katsuki asked.

"No man! I'm not joking, come on don't make fun of me!" Eijiro said giving Katsuki a defeated look.

"Hey, it's ok! Everyone has different experiences!" You said, trying to calm him. "It's not that hard Kirishima, don't stress. It'll come naturally in the moment." You spoke.

"But what if it doesn't?! Have you seen my teeth?! What If I hurt them?? Or- or- what if my quirk goes off? Man, that would be so bad! Haven't I showed you what I did to my own eye?!?!" He said, panicking swinging his arms and pointing at the scar on his eye.

"Wow wow- calm down Kirishima," You begged him. It pained you to see your friend so upset that you wanted to do anything to help ease his anxieties. "Did um- did you... want to practice?" You squeaked out so low that Eijiro and Katsuki almost didn't hear.

"The fuck?!" Katsuki exclaimed.

"Wait- like... kiss you???" Eijiro asked, his whole face igniting in a blush.

"I'm sorry! That was weird for me to offer, wasn't it?! I didn't mean for that- I just- I hate seeing you so upset and-" You spat out anxiously feeling embarrassed by your offer.

"No!" Eijiro stopped you. "I uh-... can I?" He asked looking at you with wide eyes.

"You're fucking joking, right? I'm out of here," Katsuki said standing up.

"No! Bakugo wait!" Eijiro called after him.

"HA? Why the fuck would I stay for that?!" He barked.

"Yeah stay," you said. "If you leave then it does make it weird, then it's not just friends helping each other out and- well uh it would feel too intimate if it was just me and Kirishima, and this is just for practice." You explained.

"Uh yeah right..." Eijiro said, but suddenly looked downcast by your explanation.

"Tch- whatever," Katsuki said, sitting back down and looking away from you two. "Just fucking do it then so we can get back to studying,"

"Right ok," Eijiro said to himself as he hyped himself up.

"Alright well- go ahead," you said shrugging your shoulders.

"Um- just go? Like that?" Eijiro said blushing.

You couldn't help but giggle at his nervousness. "Yeah silly- here I'll get closer," you said scooting over to him more on the bed.

"Ok- ok-" He mumbled as he nervously shook. "I'm going to do it-"

"FUCKING KISS ALREADY!" Katsuki yelled.

Eijiro startled by Katsuki's yell, jumped, and moved his lips quickly to yours, causing his teeth to knock into yours.

"OW-" You exclaimed as your hand shot up to your lips.

"OH MAN! I'm so sorry! See I hurt you, didn't I!? That's exactly what I was worried about!" Eijiro cried out, tears beginning to form in his eyes.

"It's fine Kirishima! It didn't really hurt, it just startled me!" You said, trying to calm him.

"Oh my god! No, your lip is bleeding! I'm the worst at this!" He cried.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP KIRISHIMA!" Katsuki yelled, startling you both, and causing you both to turn to him. "Why the fuck are you always so down on yourself!? COME HERE-" Katsuki yelled and grabbed Eijiro by his shirt collar pulling him closer. You watched as Eijiro was now pressed against Katsuki by force. The moment happened fast but you could have sworn you saw it in slow motion. Katsuki forcefully pressed his lips to Eijiro's.

A surprised, "Hmpfh~," escaped Eijiro as you watched him close his eyes momentarily getting lost in the kiss.

Then, as suddenly as he had yanked him, Katsuki threw Eijiro back down to the bed.

"There, see you can kiss someone without hurting them. So- stop fucking crying," Katsuki barked.

Eijiro looked up at his friend, his face flushed as he panted slightly, "Bakugo that-"

"DON'T FUCKING TALK ABOUT IT!" Katsuki warned. "JUST- just go! Go tell whatever dumb fucking extra it is how you feel! Just- get the fuck out of here already," Katsuki yelled and looked away. You could have sworn you saw mist in his eyes before he turned away.

"Uh Bakugo-... we're in Kirishima's room," you dared to say.

"Tch- I'll fucking leave then," he said beginning to storm out.

"Bakugo wait!" Kirishima called after him.

"FUCKING WHAT!?" He yelled but didn't turn around to face you two.

"I already did..." Eijiro said.

"Hu?" Katsuki exclaimed and turned around looking at Eijiro, a confused look on his face. His cheeks were flushed, and his eyes were watery.

"I did... I- I told them... both of them..." Eijiro said, quietly and the room froze. No one spoke for a moment as you all stayed in this moment processing what it had meant, and what this whole interaction had been about.

"Both?... Kirishima... Is that what you mean by they- you meant they as in plural?"

"You mean... both- as in... both of us? You like both of us?" Katsuki asked him, eyes wide.

Eijrio nodded his head shyly.

The three of you looked at each other now having an understanding.

Tags: @unofficialmuilover @maddietries @fiannee

[d4yl1ghts]

Hi! I have a king George request!

He saw her one time and from there on he makes sure to be at any event shes at, he starts crushing on her so hard and she becomes his "venus".

So when he has an episode around her she calms him down and they start talking and they kiss for the first time

Cute fluff 😘

Thank uuuuu

venus

king george iii x fem!reader

summary: george takes a liking to you over time and at a ball you help him through an episode

warnings: mental health episodes

-

You were currently dancing with a young suitor as you felt eyes lustfully taking your figure in. Turning your head sideways, you noticed the King eagerly awaiting for you by the side.

George was awed by your beauty, he had never seen someone so beautiful. Each time his eyes wanted to stray away, they would just land right back on you. He had been harvesting a liking to you for the past few weeks as he had seen you at many balls and events. At each event you were at, he always stood to the side and analysed your features.

Your suitor had finally gone after the dance had finished and so you elegantly made your way over to the King. Once you had reached him, you curtsied. He bashfully smiled. “Hello, Lady Y/N.”, he welcomed you softly. “Hello, your majesty.”, you responded. “I would ask for a dance but I notice your dance card is full but it does not matter, in fact I never really enjoyed dancing.”, he stated kindly. “Yes, I was never one for dancing either, I’d rather be at the side of the ballroom talking to people like you.”, you replied honestly. “Royalty?”, he joked and chuckled. You laughed slightly.

“Would you like to go outside where it is not so crowded?”, he offered. “Yes, of course.”

George gave you his hand and guided you to a secluded area outside. He gazed up at the sky. “Have you ever watched the stars before?”, he questioned. “No, but I would love to.”, you said. He began pointing out the important stars and explaining their history and the lore behind them. You noticed his hand had started trembling but brushed it off. “You’re like Venus.”, he whispered to you. “You always manage to capture my eyes and my mind.”, he said tentatively to you. He felt his hand tremble and his head. “Would you mind getting Reynolds, please?”, he softly asked.

You hurried off to find Reynolds, you didn’t know what was going on but you weren’t going to ask questions about the King’s health. You found Reynolds beside a carriage. “Reynolds, the King has requested you.”, you walked off hastily with Reynolds behind you. You reached George and saw him speaking to himself and his head twitching. “Is he okay?”, you asked concerned. “Lady Y/N, please return to the ball.”, Reynolds commanded. “No, let her stay if she would like.”, George said. You walked closer to George and grabbed his trembling hands.

“It will be alright, your majesty.”, you stated. “Why don’t you tell me about Venus?”, you added, hoping to distract his mind from whatever was going on. “A rare occurrence is coming. Venus will travel in a single arc and give us a single moment to take precise measurements and we shall know the distance from the Earth to the Sun.”, he said with his voice shaking. He paused. “The transit of Venus it is called. It will be quite a spectacle.”, he stated with a lost look in his eyes. “I’m sure it will, it sounds very intriguing and important for the study of astronomy.”, you mentioned as you noticed his hands had stopped trembling so violently.

Reynolds was stood off to the side, allowing you your moment. His head stopped twitching and he was no longer mumbling incoherent words. Your hands still held his and he tightened his grip on yours. He gazed at you. “I am sorry.”, he said pitifully. “For what?”, you asked. “I am a mad man.”, he turned his eyes to his hands. “George, you are no mad man. I see a kind and funny man.”, you stated genuinely. You looked into his eyes and gently pecked his lips before he kissed back hungrily. “I must head back. I hope to see you in the future, Lady Y/N.”, he kissed your hand gently. You smiled at him and bid your goodbyes.

[virgincels]

NYMPHOMANIA !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. daddy-daughter incest, femcel reader :3, reader wants to get raped so she talks about that, dub-con for like a paragraph, suicidal thoughts, awful thoughts in general, tiny bit of somno, threats, spanking, slapping

note. HAII :3 back on my femcel shit… god i rewrote this like 15 times and restarted over and over so i hate this 😭 it’s clunky so ignore any mistakes!!! feedback n rbs always so appreciated <3 was thinking of og4 leon but.. honestly idk atp !! anyway sorry again for the slow decrease in quality in this .. title has nothing to do w the fic ack ok bye :3

tumblr removes fics that use, for example, tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

There are two things you want to get off your chest.

You are not, under any circumstances, ugly. Your face just takes getting used to. (This is a cope.)

You have a crush on your dad. No excuse for this one. Cupid is a conniving bastard. That’s that.

These might not seem like related issues, but they most certainly are because being ugly is hard, and having a crush on your dad is equally as hard.

You’re a sweet girl, you didn’t choose to come out ugly, it’s not your fault you turned out this way. It’s unfair, but ultimately no one meant for it to happen

(Well, you hope no one meant for it to happen unless someone had a vendetta against your mother and cursed her firstborn. She’s an irritating lady, you can see why someone would do so.)

You won’t even be the kind of below-average woman who marries a mediocre man to have mediocre sex to make mediocre kids to live in caustic mediocrity. You have one friend, she’s an online friend, and she might be a lonely old man. To be entirely honest you would prefer that. ‘Cause that would mean someone out there wants to creep on you.

If you weren’t ugly, having a crush on your dad would be socially acceptable. That’s why daddy-daughter porn spans pages and pages and pages of Pornhub. Everyone loves to watch a busty, blonde slut on her dad’s dick. If you didn’t have a crush on your dad, being ugly would be perfectly fine— No, that’s wrong.

Being ugly is never fine. Being ugly is on the same level as being a rapist. Being ugly in the presence of people who are objectively not ugly is, like, worse than being a rapist. ‘Cause all the dudes in high school were rapists in the making. Ted Bundy-style shit.

Grope an ugly bitch in the bathrooms and she wouldn’t speak up, and if she did— She just wouldn’t actually. Would be burnt at the stake Salem style. Hung. Crucifixion perhaps. Ugly girls aren’t good enough to die like martyrs did, however. Especially not ugly girls who cry wolf.

Why on God’s green earth would a hot guy go out of his way to slap a freaky-looking girl’s ass, right? Got girls lined up down the halls waiting for him to sign their perky tits, he doesn’t need to rape. It must be wishful thinking on her part, right? A wet dream she took as reality.

Why would you say that? Do you want to throw what he’s worked for down the drain? Accusations like this, they’re not jokes, y’know that? He’s got a scholarship, college wouldn’t take something like this so lightly.

Aw, you miss her. This goth chick in senior year. Your sorta friend. When it all went down and she had nowhere else to go, you invited her over because you’re a nice girl with no nefarious intentions. None at all. When she lay beside you at night, and she opened up, and she thanked you for believing her, you totally did not have your hand in your panties. And you totally did not rub yourself raw while she spoke about it in excruciating detail. You did not treat her rape case as erotica.

The dude got away with it of course. He was on TV the other day in fact. NFL. Baltimore Ravens. Still stupid hot. God, you wish it was you he picked - wouldn’t have told a single soul. Would’ve sucked the sweat from his jockstrap without complaint.

You’re too repulsive to be touched or raped, and you’ve learnt to live with that. Passing out in alleyways would result in rapists who frequent the area to avoid those very alleyways. Only your hand knows the cushiony softness of your tits, the wetness between your legs, how great your mouth feels— Only your dildo knows that, but you can imagine it’s good. You’re a total catch. A nympho. Men love nymphos when they’re pretty, which you are not. So you’re a nympho without the sex appeal. So in other words you are a pervert. A degenerate. A fucking freak.

It’s time to start sticking your fingers down your throat. ‘Cause that’s what gorgeous girls do to achieve that grave-robbed look. Heroin chic. Modelesque. It’s all the same type of beautiful. Emaciated and sickly. Dead girls are the sexiest ‘cause they can’t say yes or no and if there’s no no then it’s a yes. A nymphetic loophole of sorts. Men love dead girls that double as nymphos. Unfortunately, you are well and alive. Walking into traffic seems like fun, but you would be classed as roadkill, and it wouldn’t be tragically beautiful, just embarrassing to get scraped off the concrete like that. Even in death, you would be ugly because you are ugly to your very core. Your bone marrow is so ugly no scientist would want to make stem cells out of it, polynucleotides so deformed— You’re ugly. No need to wax poetic about it. Nothing poetic about being ugly.

Dad is the closest a human being can get to perfection. A divine image. Michelangelo is, like, dead and gone. David should've died alongside him. Dad deserves to take his place in the Accademia Gallery. With the way people gawk at him, he might as well be art. You’re surprised he doesn’t sell tickets to merely exist in his presence. He’s hot like a Calvin Klein model, and mom is hot like a regular model. Due to how you’ve turned out, you have a few qualms with your mother.

Like, what the fuck happened to you in her womb? Did someone take a mallet to one side of her belly to ensure her child came out as asymmetrical as one can be? A lack of nutrients maybe? Was she dieting during the pregnancy? Did dad fuck her too hard? Busted her womb up or some shit.

It simply might be that two rights make a wrong.

Or you were a tester before she popped your siblings out. Little ichor-filled putto. They were child models, scouted in their diapers, and you would stand behind your mother and the cameraman so hurt you couldn’t even feel jealous. Now they’re all grown up, fully-fledged erotes, and they’re working and doing all this shit you still haven’t managed to get a grasp on. Navigating the world as an ugly bitch is terribly hard.

Rape kinks are developed, dads get crushed on - awful, terrible things happen when girls are ugly and alone and unable to leave the comfort of their bedrooms.

Pretty girls have daddy issues that are dealt with in standard pretty girl fashion - finding emotionally unavailable, salt-and-pepper-haired men to fill every hole, including the one in their doll hearts. The thing is pretty girls don’t go for their dads. ‘Cause a lot of the time dads are gross. Dads do not look like your dad does. And to be fair you don’t exactly have daddy issues. Your dad is present and he doesn’t hit or shout or do anything out of the norm. Maybe this is a you issue.

It is a you issue, not even an ugly girl issue or an any type of girl issue. It’s your issue and yours alone.

It is your issue that when Leon asks what you want for dinner you almost ask for his hand around your throat or his hand in marriage. Either would be fine. Both would be preferred.

Severing your relationship would be even better. Goddamn, girls with absent fathers are lucky. You wish he was anything but your dad— It’s just that if you weren’t his daughter, dad wouldn’t ever look your way, he would pass by you like every man does.

Dad is a busy guy, and he’s a strange guy in the sense that he’s never really bothered with you. He loves your sister, and he loves your brother. But everyone loves those two. You don’t think he likes you very much, you can deal with that. Doesn’t mean you have daddy issues ‘cause no one likes you very much. So it’s a you issue and you should try harder.

Leon’s home early today. He’s collapsed on the couch, withered into himself like he always is after business trips. Mom said not to disturb him. You don’t. Then you do. This is like crack to you. Dad.

More specifically, dad without mom hovering over him. Dad’s sleeping so your brain is not stewed by his intense gaze. It only ever lingers on you for merely a second, but your stomach flips like you’ve got appendicitis and your legs spread involuntarily.

He’s a light sleeper, you’re well aware. He’s also a living, breathing Ken doll so you don’t put much thought into it when you reach out to ghost your fingers along the bridge of his nose. So pointy it could pierce your clit. Your clit. His nose. Oh, it could work so well, you want to grind yourself to mush against it.

Until dad shifts, he’s so beautiful up close you almost forget he’s real, not a wax figure. You trace the straight edge of his jaw, then thumb his petal lips, dragging your pointer finger over the fuller bottom one to push the tip into his wet mouth. Your dad is a slut. ‘Cause he sucks for a good second or two. Heat licks at your insides. You might vomit. His spit glistens like cobwebs when you take it back. That hand is shoved down your pants. That finger finds your clit, uses what spit is left to get it nice and wet. Which is totally unneeded, you’ve been soaked since god knows when, your pussy doesn’t know when to quit.

Feels good knowing that a part of dad is in you, his spit pushed into your hole. You’ll give him something back, it’s only fair, you smear your slick on the spot you traced. His tongue pokes out, likely to combat dry mouth, it swipes along his bottom lip— He tastes you. Heat engulfs you, chars your body from the inside out, the scent of rotting meat is in your nostrils.

Dad tasted you.

Holy fuck. You sit there with a trembling smile, staring down at him and he does not rouse. Shit, you’re creepy and you know it, but you’re not stupid. What other chance do you have? You unzip his old shearling jacket, underneath is that compression shirt that fits him too well. You map out the ridges of his abs, the slight dip between his pecs, every hard line that makes up his body. He smells so sexy, lavender and leather, must be some sorta pheromone ‘cause all you want to do is drop your face into his tits to bathe in that scent, to have it stick to your skin. Shit. Holy fucking shit. You’ve got a sex doll instead of a dad. That explains the distantness. He’s made of silicone.

The door clicks the moment you find it in yourself to click open his belt.

“What're you doing?” Mom ruins everything. She’s had it out for you the moment you formed in her womb. “He’s sleeping, don’t disturb him.” She says tersely, placing her Coach Tabby on the coffee table.

“He was cold.” That’s why his nipples are peaking, piercing the fabric of that shirt. Should be illegal to wear that in public. He’s asking for it.

“Yeah?” She asks, unconvinced, bending down to unclasp her heels.

“Yeah.” You stand up, dad’s indirect kiss on your cunt, shoot her a nasty sneer before you scuttle away to your bedroom for the rest of the day.

There are stairs that creak and stairs that don’t. You hang around down here at midnight often so you know the right path to take as to not alert your parents of your presence. They’re speaking about you.

“—be careful around her.” Truly, you hate your mother.

“What is there to be careful about?” Right? You tell her dad.

“Just, just be careful. She doesn’t y’know.”

“She doesn’t what?”

“She doesn’t get off her ass, she doesn’t talk to anyone but, well, I don’t know actually, she doesn’t talk to anyone at all.” You could pretend and say it hurts, but it doesn’t. There’s nothing insulting about the truth.

“What’s that got to do with me?”

“You’re a guy, she doesn't talk to guys.”

“We don’t talk much either.” Dad is too stiff to make conversation, and you collapse anytime he breathes in your general direction.

“Yeah, but, Leon.” Mom sounds exasperated, but she’s not getting her point across well. She should know better, dad’s skull is thicker than cement. “I’m worried.”

“What, for me or her?”

“Her, obviously, I don’t want her to… I want her to get out, like, I want her to do stuff,” mom sniffles, she is so putting this on to make dad feel guilty. “It’s so hard to watch your adult daughter just sit in a room and do nothing all day, Leon, she’s like a big fucking baby, why is she like that?”

“Babe,” he coos, and your knees buckle.

“Go talk to her.”

“What?”

“Go talk to her about it,” Mom repeats, voice shaking. “She doesn’t listen to me.”

They go back and forth for a few minutes, and then dad sighs and says fine. You make haste back to your hovel that doubles as a bedroom, crawl into bed and try to look natural.

Leon clears his throat before he knocks, when you don’t answer he pokes his head in. He says your name and you stir, sheets taut to your body as you peek up at him.

“You should open a window in here.”

When you don’t respond, he sits at the foot of your bed, looks around and nods. His gaze is scathing. Not purposefully. You just take it that way.

“Dinner’s ready,” he lies, then he leaves. His perfume lingers, and you touch the space he was sitting in, his warmth remains.

The day after that, you’re in the living room, tuckered out after mom forced you to help her with the groceries. You’re not cut out for this sort of life. The living sort of life. You were made to rot.

“Door wasn’t locked,” Leon says when he steps in, he puts his keys down, shucks his jacket off, tracks mud halfway down the hall and into the kitchen.

“Your shoes, Leon,” Mom groans, “she came in last.”

“Oh, sorry,” you say absentmindedly. If it doesn’t include tits or dicks or pussy it is none of your business. You have enough energy to keep up with one thing and that is your porn addiction. Groceries really took it out of you.

“You should be careful, rapists might come in, murderers or some shit.” Leon is speaking to your mother. Not you because he has seen your face and he knows very well that an ugly girl like you would survive out of sheer ugliness.

Mom snorts, “I think you’re the scariest thing that could walk through that door, honey.”

“What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

You’d like to know what that means too. Well, you get the gist, ‘cause you’ve heard all those stories. Dad and his wandering hands.

“You know what that means.” The sound of lips smacking is enough to have you feeling sick, dizzy as you cling to the walls and make your escape. “Did she leave— Quit it, Leon— Hands off, can you go talk to her, please? Properly this time.”

He forgets to knock this time, or he can’t bother to knock. Dad sits in that same spot, he opens his mouth and closes it about five times.

“Mom’s worried about you,” Leon says robotically. “You good?”

“I’m great.” Your tone is unconvincing, but he clearly doesn’t care enough because you're his dirty little secret. Not in a sex way. You would do anything for it to be in the sex way. Dirty little secret as in the ugly kid he chooses to ignore purely because you’re ugly. Dad doesn’t like ugly girls, you know that. He doesn’t think they’re worth a second glance, even a first glance is too much. Dad is superficial and his love is plastic.

These are all things you’re making up in your head based on assumptions. This is how all attractive men think. Ugly girls aren’t worth rape, dirtying your dick in ugly pussy sounds like a hassle. If you were pretty, you wouldn’t fuck an ugly guy. Even as a self-proclaimed ugly girl, you still wouldn’t fuck an ugly guy ‘cause they’re gross, and it’s not like they want you. Ugly guys shoot high and aim for pretty girls. Duh.

So you get it. Honestly. Whatever. Dad doesn’t like you. That’s okay, you don’t like him as a dad anyway. You love him like an obsessive lover. A hallway crush that stars in your late-night rape fantasies. And you’re fine like this. You’re so fine.

“Can I… Can I actually have a hug, dad?” You muster up what is left in your hollow heart to ask him that. It’s a big deal.

Leon blinks at you, levels you with his blank stare. He’s so handsome you want to blow your brains out, it’s an easy feat because you’re always looking for reasons to blow your brains out. Every straw is your last and yet you’re still here.

“Sure, sweetheart.” Dad opens his arms, and you crawl towards him, head on his shoulder as his arms loop around your waist. Oh, god, you will your heart into giving out. Dying right here in dad’s arms is ideal.

He holds you so gently it’s brutal. He crushes you with the weight of his loveless love. Dad’s so good at pretending you almost think he cares.

“Can you… I want to stay like this.”

“Uh, sure, sweetheart,” Leon calls everyone sweetheart. Sweetheart is his default. Sweetheart ranges from Auntie Ashley to babysitters to lifeguards and retail workers who aren’t getting paid enough to deal with some old man making eyes at them. Not that anyone minds dad’s attention. It’s fucking unfair. Mom is babe, and your sister is baby, and your brother is buddy or sport or tiger or whatever shit he pulls out of his ass. And you’re sweetheart because you’re not important to him. His firstborn daughter is not important to him ‘cause she’s ugly. More of a specimen than a human.

You would do anything to keep him here.

“Dad?” You whisper into his neck.

“…Yeah?”

“I want you to…” Your lack of life flashes in front of your eyes. Bedroom. Bedroom. Porn. Bedroom. Porn. Porn. Dad. Not much. What have you got to lose? “I want to— I want to fuck you.”

Dad is silent. Then: “Oh.” He never makes the move to pull away, so you sit snugly in his grip for a few seconds longer.

“I— Dad, I touch myself thinkin’ about you.” Your stomach ties itself into a Gordian knot.

“Yeah, okay, why don’t we— Yeah, fuck, I see what she meant, okay. Wow, that’s a lot. Sweetheart, why… Listen.” Dad says a whole lot of nothing as he takes your hands off him.

“Please… I love you, dad. I really like you— I know it’s weird, dad, I do, seriously, I know, but please I just… I just like you.” There is no explanation for it. “Dad… Daddy.”

He full-on winces. It’s like you’re being flayed. Something inside of you just— Just shatters. Not your heart ‘cause it’s pumping more blood than it ever has. Fragments of your sanity splinter into even smaller segments until there is nothing left but nauseating levels of mental disturbance.

“If you don’t…”

“You seriously trying that right now?” Leon scoffs, and he’s so cocky you get hot under the collar.

(Between your thighs too, but that’s a different story.)

“Yeah, I’m serious— If you don’t… If you don’t do it- do it with me, I’ll tell mom you… I’ll tell her you raped me.” In actuality, you would never tell mom if daddy raped you. You would treasure it, keep it in a heart-shaped locket and think about it when you get off twelve times a day. Getting your pussy reamed by dad’s cock would fix you right up.

“Don’t— Are you okay?” Leon smacks your hand away, his tone is even.

“You do it too— I know you’ve done it, I know how you and mom met.”

His face drains, pallor yellowish. “That don’t… That’s different.”

“How is that any different?” Different ‘cause he’s hot and mom is hot. Leon passed it off as a drunken mistake and they end up getting together. It’s not rape if the perpetrator is a hottie. You agree, but still— It’s not fucking fair.

“‘Cause I didn’t do this.” Leon gestures abstractly.

You kiss him, hands braced on each of his tits, digging your fingers into the meat to feel him tense and harden like he’s wearing a chest plate. “You’re so hot dad,” you whine into his mouth, and Leon is quick to push you off, your wrists in his hands. Makeshift handcuffs.

“Listen, sweetheart,” Dad is using his dad voice. It’s like porn to you, only makes you wetter. “I don’t like hitting girls, but you’re givin’ me a damn good reason.”

“You can hit me, daddy.” You offer your face to him, stretching your neck forward, closing your eyes as you wait for the impact. It lands firm on your cheek, his fingertips catching the tip of your nose. Fuck that felt good. Shit. You think you’ve creamed your panties. “Again, dad, hit me again—“ He does. Harder than the last time. Your head knocks backwards, and your brain must have a dent in it.

Dad puts you over his lap and you’re so sure you’ve entered the pearly gates. Or the innermost circle of hell. Probably that ‘cause Jesus Christ are you steaming.

“I hate stupid little sluts that try it out on me,” Leon drags your sweats over the swell of your ass, “Do you have a dick?”

“What, dad— No!” You tell him, more mortified at his question than you are by your bare ass under his palm. Fuck— You’re so wet it’s disgusting, dripping down your thighs and surely staining his lap. Thick like treacle.

“No? Were you gonna rape dad with this stupid cunt?” Oh, you hope he spanks your pussy. Porn makes it look delicious. “You look like you might have a dick with that face of yours.” He traces the seam of your cunt through your panties. “Or is your pussy just fat?”

Good fucking lord.

“Dad…” You arch into him, only to have a hand come down on your left ass cheek. One. Two. Three. They all hurt bad as each other. Four. “Ouch!” That one hurt real bad. Five. You feel like a naughty child. This is not as hot as you thought it would be. More dull and embarrassing. Not even the good kind of embarrassing.

Leon puts you on your knees, the hand wrapped around your jaw forces your lips into a pout, and you think he is going to kiss you— God, you close your eyes and wait for it, lean into him, shit you’d pop your leg if you were standing up. He spits in your face and it trickles down the bridge of your nose.

“Got me dirty with that filthy pussy.” Dad speaks offhandedly, he speaks to you like you’re dog shit. Not dog shit stuck to the bottom of his shoe. Just dog shit on the side of the road. Like the sort that bothers you enough to complain about it, but it doesn’t ignite any real anger.

His hand remains tight on your jaw, then he drops it to fish his fat cock from his pants to slap the drippy head on your cheek. The sound ricochets off the walls. Hits you like a bullet. Holy fuck. Dad really just did that. You giggle, batting your lashes up at him as pretty as an ugly girl can, and he grimaces so it can’t be pretty.

“Christ, you nasty fuck,” Leon snickers at the look on your face, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Daddy,” you whimper, nosing the tip of his dick, he smells so good you want him in your mouth, “I jus’ love you lots.”

“God, I hate ugly little freaks like you.” He said that already, no need to rub it in. Another slap of his cock on your face. Your heart beats for him and him alone. “You know what I think?” Dad guides his cock into your warm mouth. “Shit, that’s good— I think your mom is a liar.”

His dick is all you’ve ever wanted. It’s heavy on your tongue, though the longer you suckle on the tip, the weightier it gets, and he’s wet. Dripping all over the place. You must get that gene from your dad.

“‘Cause I don’t think,” he grunts, palm resting on your forehead to push you off his shaft, “I don’t think I could make a kid this ugly.”

“No,” you say breathlessly, “No, you’re my dad, my daddy.” Crouched down below him, you lave over his balls, putting more effort into this than you have done with anything else in your life. Gargling dad’s balls is your best work. Nothing else you have to be proud of.

Your pussy is pulsing, shit has its own heartbeat, you drop your hand down to soothe your poor cunt, rubbing figure eights into the bulge of your clit over your panties. It’s not enough, you push them to the side, your fingers slip a couple times, not enough, only dad’s fingers are enough, only his cock will plug up your leaking hole.

“Get off me,” dad instructs, and you might be glued to him, but you detach yourself immediately. “C’mon, stand up.” You use his thighs as leverage, standing on shaky legs that threaten to give out at any second. He takes your shirt off. “Cute tits gone to waste,” dad sighs like it’s heartbreaking. “We could've done something about it, y’know? Could fix your face right up, just had to ask daddy.”

“Really, dad? I want to be pretty, daddy, I want to be pretty for you, you never call me pretty— Daddy, I want to be pretty, please.” You clasp his shirt, and he brings you into his lap once more, raising your legs to slide your panties down so you’re free bleeding on his lap. Free bleeding without the blood. Just good old pussy.

“Messin’ with you, sweetheart, can’t fix that dog face,” dad coos to you tenderly, and the plain-as-day insult flies right over you. Dad could get you to sell both your kidneys if he keeps talking to you like that. “Just gotta live with it.”

You have. You have lived with it. That’s what you do. Live with your ugly face. You could die, that’s an option, but you choose to wait it out. ‘Cause dying is pretty scary no matter how much you want it. And Leon’s dick is hard beneath your pussy so there are things to live for. The world isn’t all cruel.

“Up,” he taps your lower back, you raise your hips and he presses his cock to your stretched hole. Toy after toy after toy. All to ready yourself for dad. When you sink down on him, your body convulses. It’s the sweet release of death. Or an orgasm. Fuck. Dying on dad’s cock is— You haven’t died on his dick, he fucks you through your high, feet planted firmly on the ground as he thrusts upwards, dick angled just right.

Heroin is meant to be good. You’ve seen Trainspotting. Better than any cock— You don’t believe that for a minute. Unless he’s leaking smack straight into your pussy, numbing your walls. Could be that ‘cause god— You’re not really thinking, not that you think much, when you decide to shove your fingers into his mouth.

“Daddy, can you taste me?” You ask him, giving a languid grind of your hips down onto his cock, you regret it immediately ‘cause it’s so good your cunt squelches loudly. “Do you taste me, dad? Dad—“

“Yeah,” Dad says, muffled, “Shoving your fingers down my fuckin’ throat, you little psycho, ‘course I taste it.”

Shit. Shit. Shit. Daddy looks so pretty with his lips wrapped around your fingers, you fuck them in and out of his pink mouth, his tongue runs along the length of your fingers like he’s sucking a nice cock. Treating your fingers better than you did his dick.

Daddy’s splitting you in two. He fucks you without a care in the world. ‘Cause he doesn’t care about you. One-time-use pussy. You’re disposable like the gloves you get with box dye. Like a plastic spork. His cock is so deep he might as well tear open your middle and fuck your guts. Leon grabs your hips, forces you up and drops you down. The air in your lungs has no time to build up— You grasp at his shirt, bouncing in his lap like you’re a fleshlight, and you would be so happy with that title. Dad’s personal fleshlight. It makes you giddy.

Leon’s cock twitches inside of you, when he lifts you off of him, your pussy clings to the tip, holding on for dear life, insistent on milking daddy’s dick, taking every drop of his cum.

“Daddy…” Your head drops to his shoulder. “Please, daddy, am I pretty? Can you call me pretty?”

His hips stutter, and you don’t have to see his face to know he hesitates. It’s a struggle to call a girl like you pretty. “You’re so pretty, sweetheart.” Then he dumps his load so deep— So deep, you warm to the thought of having your daddy’s baby. You already fucked so why not go the extra mile?

Dad doesn’t kiss you, but he lays you down and tucks you in like he never has before. “Your mom’s worried.” He goes back to the topic at hand and you groan, covering your face with a pillow. “Hey, we can, uh…” Leon scratches his head. “We can y’know…” He shrugs, glances down at you. “Can do that if you try pulling your weight a little.”

The promise of your dad’s cock is enough to have you applying for every job in a thirty-mile radius. Dad’s cock is a fix for an ugly girl like you. You’ve got a pussy only your daddy could love, and you think you’re more than okay with that.

[ghost-with-a-teacup]

Okay okay, hear me out.

A bantery sort of annoying best friend trope with Miguel O'Hara. Like, hes stubborn, but reader is just as stubborn and hard headed. So like, on a mission Miguel is like "Why werent you paying attention?" and SpiderPerson!Reader is like "You're a very distracting man." And then like, the classic upside down Spiderman kiss. Apologies if this is a mess, the brainrot is real.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Warnings: None, just some good ol' fluff paired alongside some classic best friends to lovers. You know the dealio :3

It wasn’t easy being best friends with Miguel O’Hara.

He was stubborn, stoic, annoying, always thought he was right, and incredibly grumpy (almost all the time! It must be exhausting) amongst many other things. But all those things made him who he was, alongside the kindness and care he has for everyone, hidden behind that Spider-Society leader guise.

It wasn’t easy, but he was your best friend just as you were his. Your favourite person amongst the millions of people on this planet, and the billions upon trillions of people in the multiverse.

But it was even more difficult when you had the biggest raging crush on him. You felt like a little teenager, lost in the vastness of your own heart that quickly grew more and more fond of the person you loved with each day that passed.

Your feelings made you act silly and lovesick (and you knew damn well he noticed, he just never said anything about it), but they weren’t going anywhere for the time being so here they stayed.

They weren’t too great during missions though.

~

“Hey, Miguel~,” you say, sidling up to him with a stupid grin on your face. He stops you with a palm on your face, not allowing you to get too close.

“Ugh, what-?” he says, pulling his hand back in disgust. “Did you just lick me?!”

“Don’t put your hand in front of my face then, you should know by now the consequences of that,” you say with a tsk, before bursting into laughter at his expression.

“Unfortunately,” he sighs, rubbing it onto your suit. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what?” you say, pretending to be confused.

“What do you mean what- The mission? Are you ready for the mission we’re supposed to be going on in the next minute,” he huffs incredulously.

“Obviously, Miguel,” you snort. “How long have we been doing this job? Have you so little faith in me?” you ask.

“Yes,” he deadpans, and you gasp.

“How dare you?” you say, pressing a hand to your chest in offence.

“You are the most dramatic person I know,” he says, glancing over toward you as he programs the watch to the universe you were both headed to.

“You love me,” you say in turn.

“Unfortunately,” he says, and you grin widely.

“Awwww, Miguel~,” you say, pulling him into a hug that he hesitantly returns (though you knew he loved hugs, he would just rather die than admit it).

“Alright, alright,” he says pulling away. “Focus up, we need to be on our A-game for this guy.”

“Aye, aye, captain! Lead the way,” you say, and he rolls his eyes but can’t quite conceal the smile on his face at your antics before his mask reforms on his face.

Together you both make your way through the portal, getting transported past thousands of worlds in mere seconds before arriving at the one with the anomaly.

“Oh, cool~,” you say with a childlike wonder. Around you is a world that looked like it came straight out of a painting, everything looking almost acrylic in nature and beauty.

“You saw this in the briefing,” he says to you but looks around himself with a sort of wonder.

“A picture on a screen is entirely different from seeing something like this in real life, Miguel,” you retort, still looking around in awe. Looking down at your own form, your costume was blended in splotches of your iconic colours, like you had walked right out of a portrait.

He doesn’t say anything to that, instead patting your head once before walking away toward the mission site.

“C’mon. The faster we finish up, the sooner we can head back. We can have a movie night back at my place, yeah?” he says, and you perk up immediately before running after him.

“That sounds perfect, ‘cause I baked too many cookies that I don’t know what to do with,” you say embarrassed, knowing full well that you had baked them for him. He always did love your baking.

You notice the side of his mask shifts upward slightly, a telltale sign that he was happy even with the mask concealing most of his expressions but you don’t say anything, only smiling softly to yourself.

“Lyla, do a full sweep of the building before we head in. I don’t want any surprises,” he calls out, and the AI pops up immediately.

“Ugh, so bossy,” she says, and you snort.

“You could say that again,” you say in turn, while Miguel only sighs.

“Are you two done insulting me yet?” he says, and you turn to face him, walking backwards as you do.

“Never!” you say, before you’re snatched off of the ground with a yelp. He calls out your name, immediately swinging in after you.

“NOT COOL DUDE,” you shout to the villain who had his tentacles wrapped around your waist, dangling you upside down as she stuck to the ceiling. “Shouldn’t you be in the sea, doing…whatever octopuses do?”

“This seems a lot more fun,” the villain says, her voice a gurgling sort of low tone that sounds much more ominous than it should.

You shoot your webs out onto the ceiling, trying to pull yourself up and out of her grasp to no avail, her hold too strong.

Bit by bit her hold continued to tighten, inhibiting your ability to breathe.

“H-hey, we can talk about this right?” you gasp out, but before you know it Miguel was flying up toward you.

He looked so serious and intent on getting you out, his muscles flexing as he held on to his webbing.

Quite frankly, it was hot.

So hot that you failed to notice that Miguel had smacked you out of the villain’s grasp, expecting you to swing yourself out. Instead, you fall to the floor with a thud and a loud groan. It wasn’t a far fall, and all your limbs were still intact but the wind that was already limited in your lungs was smacked out of you, and the ground was definitely going to leave a bruise.

“FOCUS!” he shouts to you, sending another punch to the villain’s face to knock her off balance. That luckily snaps you out of your reverie as you stand back onto your feet, swinging up to help him out.

You use your webbing to pull the tentacles off of the wall, meanwhile, Miguel acts as a distraction so she can’t focus on the fact that she’s being brought down to the ground where a trap lay for her to land in.

Bit by bit more tentacles become loose, and with one last hit from Miguel she falls to the floor with a scream, the force field raising around her immediately.

“You won’t get away with this!” she says angrily, but you only smirk, swinging down to her level.

“Doesn’t seem like there’s much you can do in this position, can you? Don’t worry, we won’t keep you for long. You’ll be back in your universe in no time~” you say, opening up a portal straight into the holding room for the other anomalies and pushing her in.

“Bye!” you say simply before the portal closes, taking her with it.

Then, the building is quiet, and you wince as you feel Miguel’s imposing aura behind you. Grasping your shoulder, he whirls you around as he looks at you exasperatedly.

"Why the hell weren’t you paying attention?" he asks you, arms moving animatedly as they usually do.

“In my defence…you didn’t notice her coming either,” you say.

“That’s not an excuse! You have your Spidey-sense, you have an instinct that tells you when you’re in danger,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “And that fall, what was that? You saw me coming, why are you so distracted today?” he says with a sigh.

“Well, you’re a very distracting man,” you mumble, and his eyes widen slightly under his mask before it dissipates, leaving only his handsome face behind. You pull off your mask in turn, only staring into his eyes.

He stares back before sighing.

“Are you hurt?” he says, his eyes running over your body scanning for any injuries.

“I’ve taken worse hits than that, you know,” you say in turn, your face heating up slightly.

“An injury is an injury regardless of how bad it is,” he says, walking around you to make sure nothing is out of place.

“Jeez, you should take your own advice Mr. ‘I don’t need to go to the infirmary ever’” you huff.

“That’s different,” he retorts.

“It’s really not.”

“It is.”

“It’s not.”

“I’m not gonna argue with you right now,” he rolls his eyes.

“Oh c’mon, you know that’s your favourite pastime,” you smirk.

“It’s not.”

“Don’t lie to yourself, it is.”

“I only tell the truth, it’s not.”

“You say that, but here you are arguing with me again,” you grin, and he groans.

“Regardless, you did good today,” he says after a moment.

“I always do good, what do you mean,” and he looks at you incredulously.

“Can you just allow me to compliment you?”

You just shrug.

“Ehhhh, I struggle to accept compliments because deep down I’m incredibly insecure and can’t make myself believe that I can do well, let alone have other people think that so…yeah!”

“…we’ll talk about this later,” he says, patting your shoulder (the tiniest bit awkwardly, which made you almost laugh considering how long you two have known each other).

“So, since you think I ‘did good’ today, what’s my reward?” you ask expectantly, the corner of your mouth quirked up. He hums for a moment before slinging his webs onto the ceiling, swinging himself up so that he hung upside-down.

“C’mere,” he says, and you look at him confused.

“What on Earth are you doing?” you say.

“Can you just listen to me for once and come here?” he says exasperatedly, so you relent and walk so you’re about a foot away from him.

“Closer,” he says, and you step closer hesitantly, the proximity making you nervous. He only huffs, reaching out to grasp onto your arm so you’re standing face to face.

The hand on your arm reaches up, softly placing itself on your cheek as you let out a little gasp. His eyes bore into yours, and you get lost in the swirling crimson and gold.

“Is this alright?” he says softly, his breath fanning across your face. You felt your heartbeat pick up as the warmth of his hand pressed into your cheek gently. You can’t do anything but nod.

His lips press into yours, slightly chapped but soft as he kissed you softly.

You had never felt anything so right.

“What was that for?” you whisper as he pulls away after a few seconds that felt like an eternity condensed into a single moment.

He snorts softly before swinging back onto his feet, pulling you into his chest with a hug.

“I know you have feelings for me,” he says, and your body tenses for a moment at the blatant comment.

“I-” you start, but he interjects calmly.

“Hasn’t it been obvious that I have feelings for you too?” he asks as he pulls away, cupping your cheeks in both his hands.

“I, I thought it was just because I was your best friend,” you say as all those little moments you’ve had over the years play through your head. It makes him laugh softly, oh how you loved that laugh.

“You’re painfully oblivious sometimes, you know,” he says, but the fondness is evident in his voice.

“Can you kiss me again?” you ask, a tad bit flustered but you already missed the feeling of his lips on yours.

He smiles down at you before kissing you tenderly, fingers tangling through your hair as your hand rests on his chest, feeling his racing heart.

Finally, you felt complete.

~

~

“I didn’t know you were so soft,” you giggle as you return back to HQ.

“I am not soft,” he says almost offendedly, but the corner of his lip is quirked up the tiniest bit. “Though if I was, it would only be for you.”

Taglist: @beiroviski, @scaraza, @blueoorchid, @remuslupinwifee, @local-mr-frog, @johfaam0, @rawegggohan, @honeycriess, @alexenoirex, @chimpkinnuggies, @rqdior, @banana—belle, @notasadgirlipromise, @6billionyearsold, @gods-perfectidiot, @ieatmunson, @honeii-puff, @wh0re4zaynmalik, @toplinehyunjin, @ohworm-writes

A/N: Two updates in one day? That's wild, haha. Am I writing this because I saw this prompt and I myself am in love with my best friend? Absolutely, but hey! Coping mechanisms, am I right :)

[privitivium]

Hi, this is my first ask, sorry if it sucks.

Would you be willing to do Motherly Yan with a male reader who was into him at first but by the time Motherly Yan developed feelings the reader was over his? (Preferably smut but its chill if you don't want to)

-First time Anon

yes yes... very lovely, thank u first time anon.

domtop motherly yandere x subbot male reader;; feelings...

both amab, cw;; noncon - dubcon, handjobs, standing missionary, aphrodisiacs, disturbing motherly yan!!!

"oh, you're gonna ruin your appetite... here, have some of my lunch." he offers sweetly, pushing over rectangular tupperware... it was heavenly compared to your cookie dough given to you by your other co-worker - who quickly fled after he sat with you. he was always doting on you like this, it was hard not to catch feelings... and obviously, noticing that he was only like this with you made you feel special. but... after months too long of this crushing, it was enough, you decide. trying to seperate yourself from him - boxing up little post-its about him in an old shoebox... this is good. This is healthy. on the road to unliking someone... it will take forever. First step is to act standoffish and aloof, you think...

mother... not referred to as mother, but still mother. of course, he develops feelings at the wrong time, right? after you decide that youre suddenly done with him? it's easy to see you trying to detach yourself from your acquaintance-ship... he doesnt like that. beforehand, he was finding out everything about you. accidentally falling in too deep... going as far as taking it upon himself to let himself into your home to rifle through things - just to make sure your fridge is stocked... and instead; finding those little love notes that seemed to match his appearance and his personality perfectly. he didnt want to call himself delusional - it was a little too coincidental right?? theres no way he could be delusional... you're just so cute... unable to contain his excitement as you finally enter after fumbling with your keys at your door - yelping in surprise when you see him, your superior sitting on your couch of your tiny little apartment - "y-you-! what the hell are you-?"

"Fret not..." he was quick to stand - trying to ease you as you stepped back and nearly out the door before he was reaching over and dragging you inside - "i... have something to confess... i'm so very in love with you, i cannot hold it inside no longer." he murmurs breathlessly, his face taking on a darker tinge - telling you how truthful and embarrassed he was; standing in front of you after trespassing...

ㅡ"w-well, your timing is awful-!?" you were still too hopped up on adrenaline, the door slamming behind you and fiddling with your keys inbetween your fingers and making a strong fist just in case-! "i-i'm already... over my feelings for you, it's too late for anything-!"

"i'm sure it wasn't too long ago that you lost feelings, right?" he questions delicately, with an equal cadence of delicate; brushing his free hand, his dainty fingertips underneath your eye, "i'm sure you'll be in love with me just as you were in no time." he was making fun of you in his own way - no person could get over their love interest that easily, and he was going to exploit your love for him - can't you see? can't you feel? he's your boyfriend already. "and of course... you were in love with me, and it's not easy to just... unlove someone... i think you're just shy." it dons on him, that of course - yes, that must be it. his darlings' crush - his object of affection suddenly confessing his feelings to him... ur just shy is all,,,,

you shake your head in denial, feeling sick to your stomach. urgh.. your coworker who you recently barely got over in your apartment-? confessing his love-? "f-fuck noㅡ" you raise your key-shank fist... preparing to defend yourself, obviously, you were under the influence of something right? you wouldnt be acting like this unless it was so...

ㅡ"nah-ah.." he hums, so easily subduing you and pressing you against the wall - dragging you into the darkness of your hallway and he stares at your struggling form before he was pressing his lips against yours - an open mouth kiss, where his tongue was shoving something in your mouthㅡpulling your head away and immediately spitting it up - him, shoving his fingers in your mouth and you couldn't do anything but gag and swallow. that little pill... down your throat,,,,

ㅡ"... it's working so fast... ah, i'm so excited." he murmurs, smiling widely and nuzzling his nose into your cheek - ignoring your soft grumbles and taking immense joy in your weakening body and hardening cock -

"you're so pretty, look at you..." he coos, nuzzling his ignoring your soft grunts and very obvious attempts to get away - but your flustered expression catches his eye, grinning so wildly as buries his face in your neck,,,. "and look at that - you obviously like this... it's okay, i'll let you get used to me..." he murmurs so kindlyㅡfuck, it was hard not to tremble at the tone of his voice - so gentle and loving as he slowly rocks into your body, slowly; languidly as not to rip anything after fingerfucking you with a little packet of lube and precum. a soft involuntary mewl of "motherr..." leaving your saliva glossed lips - stupid and only thinking of your pleasure - his hands gripping your hips as you were reaching downward just to jerk yourself off,,, feeling such an intense amount of emotions - so hot, sweaty, while being fucked into by your ex crush of a coworker... ,,,,

[rosexxi]

Hi! I love your FANFICTION so much you’re my favorite writer! I was wondering if you could do Mattheo or Theodore x fem! Reader based on the song exile and she has a crush on him but refuses to believe he likes her (he’s so in love with her guys-) but she just feels so alone even though she has friends. Don’t feel pressured at all to write this!

Stargazing 💫🌃

Mattheo knows just what to say and what to do to cheer you up

a.n // tysm for the kind words angel!! it means so much 🫶 I haven't written in a while, so sorry if this is sucky :/

fluff // m.r x slytherin! reader

"y/n? y/n?"

Pansy's harsh tones cut through the silence that had previously filled your mind, bringing you back to the conversation that was happening around you. You were sat at your usual table, a snug booth, in the corner of an otherwise very crowded Three Broomsticks, with your best friends Pansy and Daphne. It was a cold night, a chill that nipped at your red nose, indicated that the colder seasons were growing. The autumn chill that crept through the cracks of the closed door, made you shudder, wrapping warm in your thin sweater and wool gloves, tightening your grip on your mug of hot chocolate. You had clocked out of the conversation some time ago, too preoccupied with the clock on the wall to care about your friends' boy troubles. Whatever argument it was that Pansy and Blaise had had again.

"Sorry what were you saying Pansy?" you mumbled.

She squinted her eyes at you, as though studying your face, "That doesn't matter. Are you ok? You're incredibly quiet." she stated as she took a sip of her butterbeer.

You shrugged. To be honest you weren't ok. You felt awful like there was this terrible weight on your shoulders, like you were trapped behind some invisible door. You didn't know if it was due to the weather, or simply because of yourself, but no, you weren't ok.

"I'm fine," you eventually sighed out, "just tired. I think I'm going to head back to my dorm." you weren't lying. You were tired. Tired of the school year, tired of seeing your friends busy in relationships whilst you fell behind. Just tired. So you collected your things and made your way back to the Slytherin dorms, flashing a smile as you did to ensure your friends wouldn't worry.

..

"Hey y/n, is everything alright?" came a familiar voice. You looked up from your feet to see Mattheo Riddle leaning against the stone wall leading up to Hogwarts, a lit cigarette in his hand.

You looked up at him confused until he pointed to the tear that had fallen from your eye.

"Oh." you simply stated as you wiped it away, "I didn't even realise."

"What that you were crying? Must be having a shit day." he stated.

You bit your lip. You hadn't realised how bad you were feeling until Mattheo had said it, and now it was taking everything in you to not cry in front of the schools bad boy. Well, you say bad boy but you always liked Mattheo, he was always nice to you and seemed to notice things a lot more than others did, so it was no surprise he caught you having a bad day. Others may have viewed him as aggressive and brash, but you always seemed to get the side of him that was much softer and gentle. It led to you quickly developing a little fancy to the boy. A harmless crush you had explained to Daphne and Pansy, when they had caught you flirting with him in Charms. Harmless in the sense he spoke that way to any girl and would never actually develop anything more with you.

"Heyy, don't start crying on me pretty girl, what's the matter?"

Pretty girl

it took everything in you not to melt into his arms, instead everything seemed to pour out, the awful feelings of tiredness and sadness that loomed over you, the irritancy you felt towards your friends that just groaned about their boyfriends, the irritancy you felt towards school. He just listened, occasionally taking a smoke of his cigarette, but maintaining eye contact throughout.

"I get it," he simply stated when you had finally finished, "It's hard when complex humans experience complex emotions. I hear you love, that feeling of loneliness when you're not actually alone. That feeling of emptiness whilst you're surrounded by your exhausting friends. I have it too, probably worse, Draco never does stop complaining. It's probably because you're overwhelmed, take a breather, you deserve it. But you don't have to keep it in."

"I don't?" you sniffled.

He shook his head, "I'll listen. Look I have detention now, but I'll find you later yeah?" he said, tilting his head to look you up and down, "You're freezing y/n."

He took off his hoodie and helped you put it on, "Let me see a smile."

You smiled up at him as best as you could, "beautiful" he muttered before he walked into the castle, making sure to smile back at you as he did. If only you knew he continued his smile well into his detention with McGonagall.

.

The Slytherin dorm was barren and quiet, for most students were still in Hogsmeade. Deciding to take advantage of the empty common room, you sat down in front of the fireplace, allowing the heat to warm you up.

Mattheo's hoodie was warm and smelt like him, and you couldn't help but smile as you cuddled into it. It was interactions like these that had you thinking your feelings for Mattheo were mutual. It would never last long, you always knew the truth. Mattheo simply didn't like you back and you were fine with that. Why would he when he could have any girl he wanted, one who preferably didn't cry to him when he simply asked if they were ok. But despite that, your talk with the boy, lead you to feeling in better spirits than before.

It wasn't long before Draco, Mattheo and Theodore came back from detention.

"McGonagall definitely has something against me, detention for the fourth Saturday in a row?" exclaimed Mattheo aggressively, as he threw his tie on the sofa. You turned to see the angered boy pull out a cigarette as he leaned against the fireplace. Upon seeing you, his gaze seemed to soften, as he gently exhaled smoke.

"You shouldn't scrunch your face up in anger so much Mattheo, you'll lose your charming good lucks." smirked Draco from the sofa.

"It's his good lucks that get him in trouble. If he had stopped flirting with Lavender maybe he wouldn't've gotten detention again." Theodore chimed in.

Your heart sank. Of course he was flirting with Lavender, the boy would flirt with anything that had legs, everyone knew this, especially you.

"Shut up I wasn't flirting," he said as he flicked something at the two teasing boys, "Besides Lavender's not my type." he shrugged as he sank to seat himself facing you. He smiled at you before turning his attention back to his two teasing friends.

"Yeah don't worry we know who your type is." they sniggered.

You rolled your eyes. You knew Mattheo would never like you. You knew of his multiple girlfriends and "situationships" that he flaunted around the castle. But still, you had hoped that when he said he would come to find you later, he didn't mean he'd come with his boyish friends to brag about his girl of the day. You got up and made your way to your room.

"You two just can't keep your mouths shut can you?" Mattheo questioned the two boys.

"Hey don't blame us, if you're so in love with her than just man up and say it," complained Draco, "Instead you do our heads in."

"I'm trying ok." Mattheo grunted.

"Try harder, it's been six years already and she still doesn't know."

"She must know a bit. I try to make it obvious, I'm nice to her." he simply stated.

Draco let out an obnoxious laugh, "You're so dense, Mattheo. That's not enough. You think being nice is enough, you can't flirt with loads of girls and expect y/n to think you fancy her."

"I know, I know," he grumbled as he got up, painfully aware of his behaviour the past few years, "I'll take to her see soon."

Mattheo left the common room, deciding a walk around the castle was good for his thoughts. He knew he probably flirted too much with other girls even though it meant nothing, but that was simply because it was all he knew. See, Mattheo knew his reputation was right. He was brash and awkward with his emotions, so feeling love towards you was an obstacle he didn't know how to overcome.

.

You hadn't spoken to Mattheo much over the rest of the weekend, and decidedly so, for you knew that seeing him would probably put you in a worse mood. But come Monday you started feeling in higher spirits, even engaging in boy talk with your best friends.

"But Mattheo likes you y/n, he called you pretty girl and love." Daphne had said when you told her of your interaction on the way to Transfiguration. You shook your head, "He says that to everyone Daph. He doesn't like me, why would he. He probably felt bad that I was moping around Hogsmeade, it was undeniably out of pity."

She shook her head and tried to come up with a million reasons as to why Mattheo must be in love with you. Even evidencing small interactions and late night conversations that had occurred over the years at Hogwarts.

"Look Daph, I like Mattheo and I am ok with liking him from a distance, he doesn't like me back, he can't, and that's fine." you finally said as you reached the classroom.

The lesson began, and at around 15 minutes, Mattheo strolled in. You rolled your eyes at his lack of respect and watched as he took a seat next to you.

"You look like you're feeling better." he whispered.

"I am better than before." You simply replied, turning to smile at him. He returned the smile and shifted his attention to the lesson.

Half away into the lesson, Lavender slipped Mattheo a note. You rolled your eyes at the boy again. Were them two a thing now. You liked Lavender. You didn't, however, like her that much for Mattheo.

"Are you two together now?" you voiced your thoughts.

"What? Who? Me and Lavender?" Mattheo whisper shouted, clearly taken aback, "No," he simply stated, "couldn't be further from the truth."

The lesson seemed to last longer as you stared at the clock. Eventually five minutes remained and as you packed away, Mattheo slid you a note.

'Astronomy tower at 9'

Before you could question him, he had left the classroom, leaving you highly confused.

.

"You came." Mattheo said softly, when you eventually arrived at the astronomy tower slightly after 9. You contemplated if you should come, but after encouragement from Daphne, who seemed more excited about the invitation than you, how could you not show up.

"You asked me to."

He was sat on the balcony, and as you neared towards him, you saw that he was sat on top of a plaid blanket, amongst pillows and a few lit candles.

"What's this for?" you asked, barely above a whisper. He didn't reply, instead he simply patted at the space beside him. You did. You both sat in silence for some time until he finally spoke.

"You're wearing my hoodie."

You nodded, "It's cold."

"It is," he agreed. The silence fell again and you saw Mattheo akwardly rub at the back of his neck, "When I was younger, I had insomnia, and whenever I was awake, I'd always go our tower, you could always see all the stars." he paused to take a hit of his cigarette, exhaling slowly as he gathered his thoughts, "You were sad. I thought if the stars brought me peace they'd do the same for you."

You admired the boy in the moonlight. The boy who everyone described as brash and reckless, seemed vulnerable and innocent as you stared at him, admiring how the moons reflection traced his features, making them appear softer. His brown, heavy eyes were fixated on his fingers as he fiddled with them, and above his eyebrow was a cut, no doubtly from a fight.

"You did all this? It's beautiful, the sky, the stars." you replied. You didn't know how to reply, to be entirely honest, you had never seen Mattheo this way.

He nodded, "It is beautiful." he agreed as he finally turned to meet his brown eyes to yours. Though you would describe his eyes as dead and tired, they looked full of life as he looked at you.

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh at his intense gaze, "What is the sky or me?"

"You of course." he smiled.

You raised your eyebrows at him, "yeah? bet you say that to all your girls. You bring them here too?"

He shook his head aggressively, "never brought any girl here other than you and I'd like to keep it that way."

You nodded your head at him, though part of you still didn't believe him. He seemed to notice this as he continued speaking,

"And, I don't have multiple girls despite what the other boys say."

"You were literally just flirting with Lavender, and I've seen you with other girls."

"Lavender was helping me with this. She comes up with her boyfriend, and was telling me when was the best time."

"Oh." was all you could say.

"Yeah oh. And I might flirt with other girls but it means nothing, it's never meant anything." he took his gaze off of you and back to the sky.

"Why not?"

"Because," another exhale of smoke, "They're not you." he simply stated. As though it was something so incredibly obvious.

"Me? What do you mean?"

"God y/n, you're not always the brightest. You couldn't tell I like you, a lot."

You raised your eyebrows in shock. Was Mattheo Riddle confessing to you. Under the stars aswell you might add, how romantic.

"Me? Why didn't you say anything?"

"I tried," he shrugged "I was nicer to you, tried to pay more attention to you, but when you didn't say anything I just figured you didn't like me back."

"Mattheo. How was I supposed to know? You act like that with most girls."

He shifted in his seat to properly face you, discarding of his cigarette as he did.

"Now you know," he whispered as he leaned in to kiss you. But you stopped him, holding your hands up to prevent him.

"And you're being serious, Mattheo? Because if I'm just another girl to you, then I don't want it."

"You're not y/n, god how could you be, you're perfect. I've been wanting you since I first laid eyes on you in first year. You're everything I need and everything I want. I love you y/n, I genuinely thought I couldn't have made it more obvious. And when you didn't say anything, i got embarrassed like a stupid boy and turned to other girls but they mean nothing, now please can I kiss you."

But you didn't let him. Instead, you threw yourself at him, pressing your soft lips to his, taking his hair into your hands, doing what you've always wanted to.

You could feel him smile into the kiss, deepening it, and bringing up his hands to rub circles into your waist.

When the two of you finally pulled apart, he pulled you into his lap and turned his attention back to the sky.

"The sky really is beautiful. Thank you for bringing me." you whispered as you played with his hands.

"It is, and you're welcome. Wanted to bring you for a while, when I saw you the other day looking all down knew I had to finally do it. Can't have my pretty girl feeling down."

There it was again, pretty girl. You had to stop yourself from melting into him again.

"I like it when you call me pretty girl," you smiled, "Do you still suffer from insomnia?"

He nodded nonchalantly, facing you as he flashed an out of character toothy grin, "Kind of. I think I'll sleep just fine tonight, though."

.

.

[thegainingdesk]

On Again, Off Again

As soon as I saw Mark I was head over heels. He was tall and naturally broad, a frame improved with well-honed muscles from years of manual labour. A mop of thick dark hair framed a broad, almost blocky face with dark brown eyes and a thick moustache, and mirrored tufts of hair poking out from the top of his shirt and at his cuffs. His voice was deep, but soft, with a slight Bristol accent.

He’d suggested we go to a local museum for our first date - I’d mentioned that I did art history at uni when we were talking on tinder, and there was an exhibition on the early impressionists. I spent a while pointing out some of my favourite paintings, explaining some of the techniques, the use of light, how the movement was different to what had come before but quickly noticed how quiet he was being and my initial attraction started to wane.

“Sorry,” he said after I asked him for the umpteenth time if everything was okay. “I don’t mean to- it’s just, I mean…”

I looked at him, expectantly. Despite myself, despite how flat the date was falling, I found myself crushing on him all over again, looking up into those big puppy dog eyes.

“I wanted to impress you a bit,” he said finally, running his hand across his moustache nervously.

I laughed reflexively, and felt awful as I saw him wince. “What do you mean, impress me? You don’t need to impress me.”

“I know, it’s not… You just said that you were into art and stuff, and that you work with this charity and-” He stopped and sighed. “I’m just this knob-head builder, you know? I didn’t think someone like you would really want to go out with someone like me, and I thought you were cute and the lads at the site said I should do something a bit fancy and… I’ve fucked this up, haven’t I?”

I shook my head. “You’re great. Really. I chose to go out with you, didn’t I?” He shrugged those gorgeous hulking shoulders, somehow looking like a scolded schoolboy, despite his size. “Go on, where would you usually take me on a first date, if you weren’t trying to go all fancy on me?”

“No, no, really,” he insisted, unconvincingly. “I’m enjoying myself here.” He pointed at the nearest painting, a Turner painting of a choppy sea, a bright red buoy at the centre. “Go on, tell me about that one.”

I took his hand, and felt my heart flutter as a smile spread across his face. “Seriously, I agreed to go on a date with you because you were a good laugh while we were texting.” A blush spread across his stubbled cheeks. Fuck, he was hot. “Where we going?” I pulled him towards the exit.

“A pub or something, I dunno,” he mumbled. “We can stay, really.”

“Not a chance,” I retorted. “It's your round - you can’t wriggle out of it that easy.”

A couple of drinks in, the date was thoroughly back on track. Mark was funny, charming and charismatic - I’d go so far as to say he was gregarious, but trying to keep up with the way Mark drank turned that into a few too many syllables for me at the time. A few more drinks and we couldn’t keep our hands off each other - looking back, I cringe at the scene we must have made in that pub. Charitably, you could say we were somewhat hidden away in a corner; realistically, it was a Saturday evening in the city center and people were probably gawping.

“I told myself I wouldn’t fuck you tonight,” he grumbled into my ear, while his big square hand pawed at my achingly hard dick. “That I’d wait a couple of dates.”

I was practically gnawing at him at this point, my mouth deep into the soft crevice between his thick, strong neck and his strong, yard-wide shoulders. “This is basically our second date,” I told his neck. “The museum was number one, the pub is number two.”

I heard him laugh into my hair. “I’m serious, I’m trying to break some bad habits. Trying not to have so much casual sex.”

I moaned. “I’ll give you permission to make an exception.”

“I don’t want this to just be sex,” he whispered. “I really like you.”

“It doesn’t have to just be sex,” I whimpered back. “But it could also be sex.”

I heard him - felt him - practically growl. “I suppose if you came back to mine, we wouldn’t necessarily have to have sex.”

I nodded, and lifted my head to look him in the eyes. “Absolutely, no sex.”

The sex was phenomenal. It was like something out of an 80s romance novel. It was animalistic but sensual, passionate but slow. I think I actually swooned. Mark could throw me about like a ragdoll, and he made good use of that ability. His body was covered almost top to toe in dark, wiry hair, and his cock was so thick I could barely get my mouth around it - but by god I gave it a go.

We spent all of the next day together, nursing twin hangovers and cuddling up on his sofa. Mark explained his philosophy that the only worthwhile hangover cure is as much food as you can manage to keep down. While I nibbled on bread and butter and sipped on water all day, there was barely a moment where he didn’t have some food on the go - bacon and egg sandwiches for breakfast, clearing his fridge for lunch, a string on deliveroo drivers.

By the time I felt well-enough to go home, he tried to convince me to call in sick to work the next day. Tangled up with him like that, I almost did. Even so, I managed to drag myself away, with the promise of seeing him on Friday.

We didn’t make it to Friday. We met up for dinner on Tuesday. Lunch on Wendesday. On Thursday I packed a bag and decided I could just go into the office from his flat in the morning. We were inseparable. Insufferable, most likely. But we couldn’t stop ourselves, didn’t want to stop.

The dinners out, the takeaways, the long days spent cuddled up without a thought of the gym started to add up - on Mark at least. And yes, maybe I encouraged that a little, but I’m allowed a type aren’t I? Okay, maybe more than a type - a predilection, if you were being fancy, a full-blown fetish if you were being honest. So I like them big! Is that a crime? I never went overboard - never stirred butter and double cream into all of his portions, never tricked him into gainer shakes, never slipped him appetite enhancers or miraculous weight-gain pills - I’m not the protagonist of a gainer story, after all.

All I did was nurture that healthy appetite of his. Gave him my unfinished portions, asked him if he wanted seconds, encouraged him to get dessert, muttered into his ear that no, he can’t go to the gym and leave me in bed, cold and alone, that I’d give him all the work-out he needed. He never complained, and I never made any real secret that I didn’t mind him putting on some weight.

It was subtle at first. He’d never had any abs to cover up, but there was a general loss of definition - muscular limbs got smoothed out, pecs started to go puffy, his belly started to permanently bow out into a little arc. His body, already big, sailed past 220 pounds easily enough, and you could barely tell that he’d put on any weight at all, not really, until he’d hit 240 or so.

But then, my god. It’s like some magical fat threshold was reached, almost overnight, like all the gaps in his body had been filled with fat, his whole body lightly covered with a thin sheen of chub, ready for the real work to build up over it. Smooth limbs got soft, puffy pecs drooped, his little distended belly curved out in all directions to form a proper little pot belly. Not six months into our relationship, he was sitting fat and happy at 260 pounds, a firm ball gut at his center, and all traces of that muscular hunk that tried to impress me at a museum were buried under soft, gorgeous flab. If he ever got self-conscious, he never said anything. Still, I told him how gorgeous he was, how sexy the extra weight made him, how he looked more manly, more mature.

We settled into a routine; huge dinners, hot sex, movie nights spent cradling his growing gut, an occasional date night at some new restaurant before moving onto a pub or a bar. We spent so much time at each other’s flats we both assumed we’d move in together sooner rather than later, that this would all last forever.

“Australia?” I asked, my voice shaking.

“I know, I know,” he said, pacing and stroking his moustache nervously. “But the money’s so good, I can’t really pass it up.” I closed my eyes. Gripped the table. Tried to wish it away. “It wouldn’t be forever,” he said, lamely.

“It would be for a year though,” I whispered, opening my eyes.

He slumped down into the chair opposite me. One hand continued to stroke his moustache, the other sat on the shelf of his belly, stroking it ever so slightly. Even while I was distraught he could still drive me wild without even trying. “I’m sorry,” he said simply after a while. I knew there wasn’t any point arguing. That I wouldn’t want to stop him taking the opportunity. It just hurt.

We agreed we’d not wait for each other. We’d stay in touch, but we’d be free to date, and if either of us met someone over the year, or if we’d changed as people, no obligation to go back to how we were.

I spent a full week moping. I became a walking cliche - I barely ate, I barely slept. I sustained myself on a diet of Carole King songs and Richard Curtis films. Mark never had any social media - barely used his phone for anything really - a fact which I was, in turns, thankful for and furious about. On one hand, at least I couldn’t obsessively stalk his profiles all year while I missed him, on the other hand, I couldn’t even stalk his profiles all year while I missed him.

I still can’t decide if that year went fast or slow. There were points when it felt like I was going through the same old bored routines for decades, and days when I’d realise how soon I could see Mark again and it would feel like seconds. I did my best to get on with my life - I met with friends, picked up hobbies I’d let fall to the side while I spent every day with Mark, even plucked up the courage to go on a date. It was nice. He was nice. But it wasn’t Mark. I’m not even sure I could tell you his name. After that, I resigned myself to waiting.

I’m back! The text said. My heart fluttered. Want to meet up for a drink?

I tried to not reply immediately. Wanted to come across as cool and unbothered.

Amazing!!! I replied, not two minutes later. Yes! Where?

As a cucumber.

The Goose? Or maybe your flat? Up to you.

My heart pounded. Meeting at my flat was not the act of an uninterested man. Meeting at my flat was not the act of a man who’d fallen in love with some gorgeous Australian surfer.

My flat’s fine! I responded.

Great. I’ll be like an hour?

My flat was already impeccably clean - I was a bit of a clean freak as it was, but I had it practically sparkling in anticipation of Mark’s return to the northern hemisphere - but still, I busied myself cleaning every nook and cranny. I hoovered my spotless carpet, smoothed my immaculately smooth bed, dusted corners that I previously didn’t know existed.

I had just decided that the flat was too unnaturally clean, like I’d gone out of my way to clean it for Mark or something, and was in the middle of pulling various items just slightly out of position, when my doorbell rang. I yelped, and hurriedly crumpled a throw blanket, before breathing slowly and making my way to the door. It was just Mark, I told myself. Everything would be just the same as it was before. It’s just Mark. It’s just Mark.

I opened the door to a man I barely recognised. Mark was buff. Beyond buff. The fat I’d so deviously piled on him over all those months had disappeared without a trace. He’d not simply returned to the naturally broad, built figure he’d had when I’d first met him, either - he’d added hard, shredded muscle - at a guess I’d say 20 pounds easy. His face was thinner, sharper; his arms were vascular, and I could swear I saw the stitches on his sleeves almost pulling themselves apart; when he raised his arms and his t-shirt rode up, I could make out a defined six-pack even through his dense pelt of body hair. Worst of all though - he’d shaved off his moustache.

I just stood blinking for a while, until I realised that tears were welling up in my eyes. Despite it all, despite the time, despite the body, despite the fucking moustache - it was Mark. It was really, actually, fucking Mark.

Neither of us said anything, he just stepped through my door, held my face in his hands and kissed me, deeply and desperately and hungrily. We stumbled backwards through my flat, knocking perfectly placed objects as we went, pulling at each other’s clothes, never once stopping kissing, until he picked me up and tossed me onto my bed. This time, I definitely swooned.

We didn’t properly talk until the next morning, while I lay with my head on his chest, my fingers lazily pulling through the curls of his chest hair. “Go on then,” I said. “What’s all this?”

Mark yawned. “What’s what?” he asked.

I lightly slapped his six-pack. “Who invited He-Man over here?”

He laughed. “I bet you had a thing for He-Man didn’t you?” he said, running a hand down my back and squeezing my bum, avoiding the question.

“No really,” I insisted. “What happened to my sexy teddy bear I sent off?” I steeled myself. “I bet it was for all those sexy ozzy men, eh?” I forced myself to laugh.

Mark was silent, and didn’t move.

I held my breath. “It’s fine, you know. We said. Date whoever.”

He shook his head. “No,” he said simply, after a while. “I umm… couldn’t bring myself to. That’s why I spent so much time in the gym actually. To take my mind off of…” He trailed off. “Did you? You know…”

“One guy,” I said. “Just a date, you know, nothing…" I added quickly, keen to reassure him. "It was awful.” I sighed. “No, it was probably fine, it just wasn’t…” I looked over at him, took in his chiseled jawline and perfect cheekbones. “It wasn’t you.” We stayed like that for a while, just smiling at each other. I shuffled up his body to kiss him, and rolled over. “I might have to change my stance on that if you don’t grow your moustache back though.”

We were back to our old routine almost immediately, illicit feedings and all. By the time Mark had regrown his moustache, his abs had been hidden by soft fat and he was on his way back to the Mark I knew and loved. It’s like his body missed the fat - it piled on faster than it had the first time, and within a few months he’d put on all his lost weight, plus extra. His newfound muscles clearly faded a little, being neglected so thoroughly by time spent away from the gym, but they provided a firm base for all the fat to cling to, so that all his fat was perkier and bouncier than last time - I was in heaven.

“I need to lose some weight,” Mark murmured around one of his breakfast donuts one morning. I looked over to see him trying to tug a pair of scruffy work jeans closed, but there were several inches of soft fat between the button and its hole. I inhaled and set my shoulders - it was time to bite the bullet.

“I don’t think you need to lose weight,” I started, nonchalantly.

Mark laughed and shook his gut. I fought to stop myself from getting hard. “Look at me - I’m 20 stone and can’t fit into 40 inch trousers. 40 inches! I need to lose weight,” he repeated.

I stood up and walked over to him, putting a hand on each side of his middle. “I like it,” I told him matter of factly, before kissing him.

He smiled and returned my kiss. “You’re sweet, and I know that you’ll love me no matter what size I am, yada-yada-yada, but come on,” he slapped his belly again. “This is getting ridiculous.”

I shook my head. “No,” I said. “I like it. I…” I inhaled deeply. “I prefer it. Actively prefer you fat, actually.”

He stared at me and blinked, not speaking for almost a whole minute. “You… like me fat?” he asked, finally.

I nodded. "Mm-hmm," I said, as casually as I could pretend to be.

He squinted his eyes at me. “Fatter?” he continued.

“I… wouldn’t complain,” I said slowly, studying his face.

He took a few steps away from me and looked down at himself, as if seeing his body for the first time. He hefted his gut a couple of times, almost experimentally. His hands drifted upwards, squeezed his soft pecs. I just watched, knowing he needed some space. Finally, he raised his head to look at me. “Why?” he asked simply.

I shrugged. “Why is anyone attracted to anything, you know? Big guys have always just done it for me, I guess,” I explained. He carried on looking at me inquisitively, clearly expecting me to continue. “I mean… it just seems more manly, you know? Like you’re tall and you’re hairy and you’ve got this great moustache and hot face, and being bigger is just one more thing that just makes you even more masculine, you know?” He nodded and I saw him subtly flex, as if in admiration of himself. “So you’re okay?” I asked.

He nodded. “I mean, if it means I don’t have to diet or go to the gym, why not?” he laughed, and carried on getting ready for work. “You might need to pop out today to buy me some new clothes though,” he added.

I nodded and smiled, happy that inevitable, awkward conversation went as well as could I could realistically hope. I started to get set up for my day working from home, and brought Mark a donut as he was about to leave, kissing him on the cheek as I passed it over.

His eyes narrowed, and he looked carefully at the donut. “Did you do this Ben?” he asked, after a moment or two.

“What?” I asked. “Yes Mark, I brought you the donut. Are you okay?”

He shook his head. “No. Not the donut. Me. Did you make me fat?”

I swallowed. Hard. “What? Mark. How could I make you fat? I can’t eat for you,” I pointed out.

“No,” he agreed. “But I put on weight almost as soon as I met you. You’ve always given me half of your dinner, told me to get dessert, stopped me going to the gym.”

“Mark, you can’t seriously be accusing me of manipulating you into gaining weight,” I told him, feeling myself shake a little. "You have a big appetite." Was I trying to convince him, or myself?

“But did you?” he pressed.

I paused just a little too long and he sighed, burying his face in his hands. “It’s not like I forced you to eat anything!” I protested. “You enjoyed the food, you wanted it, you never cared about putting on weight, never enjoyed the gym. I just tried to give you permission to let yourself go a bit.”

“But you didn’t Ben!” he snapped. “You didn’t give me permission because never had a choice!”

“Mark, come on,” I reached towards him, but he knocked my hands away. “I’m sorry for being sneaky, but that’s all it was - a bit sneaky. I never lied, I never convinced you to do anything you didn’t want to, I just made the choice a bit easier.”

He opened the door. “I’m going to stay at my parents for a bit,” he said.

“Mark, no,” I pleaded.

“I just… I just need some time to think.” He moved through the door.

“Please Mark, I love you.”

He sighed. “I love you too,” he said. “It’s just a lot.”

The door closed. The day was a write-off. I spent the whole day cleaning and tidying, scrubbing floors and counters and remaking my bed. I thankfully didn’t have any meetings, and the only work I needed to do was busy-body work that no-one would notice was getting done badly. I fell back into old routines - didn’t eat, couldn’t sleep, Carole King, Richard Curtis.

Staying at his parents “for a bit” meant a couple of weeks, as it turned out. I was mid-Notting Hill when I heard the door open and I turned to see Mark walk in, an old band t-shirt riding up to reveal the bottom of his gut. I rushed over to him, but stopped before I reached him, unsure of what was about to happen. He closed the distance and pulled me into a hug. I melted into him, and we stayed like that for a few minutes, just holding each other.

“I’m sorry,” I said eventually.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I overreacted. I… freaked out.” He scratched his gut. “You were right. It could have happened in any relationship, I just…” He closed his eyes. “I’ve been fit for a really long time, you know, and I’ve never done a proper relationship, and I always felt like people just use me for sex and all of a sudden I find out that you’re a big part of why I’ve put on so much weight and it just felt like… Like you were changing me.”

I shook my head and hugged him again. “I’m so sorry,” I said into his shoulder. “I didn’t want you to change. You’re exactly what I want, any weight, I promise.”

He hugged me back. “I want to change for you,” he murmured into my hair. He pulled away and held my shoulders, smiling. “I spent a lot of time trying to figure stuff out and… you're right. It’s hot.” He slapped his gut. “I get it, I think. I like being big and I like eating and I like that you like it.” I must have looked skeptical because he carried on. “Okay, I’m not, like, thrilled with putting on quite so much, but I also don’t care enough to lose you over it, and I can see where you’re coming from.” I didn’t know what to say, so just kissed him, running my hands under his t-shirt and up his love handles. He pulled away. “I want you to get fat as well though,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“What?” I asked, dumbfounded.

“I think you should put on weight as well,” he said again. “To see what it’s like.”

“Mark, I… I thought you’d forgiven me. I said I was sorry.,” I said.

“I’m not saying it as some kind of punishment or whatever,” he said, and patted my own flat stomach. “I’m saying that I think you’ll like it. That I’ll like it.”

“I think you might be confused,” I told him. “I don’t want to gain weight,” I explained. “I just like fat guys. It’s a different thing.”

“Okay,” he said. “But I didn’t want to gain weight either, and it turns out I kind of like it.” He squeezed his gut for emphasis. “You already like all this stuff, and I just think you owe it to yourself to see whether you like all the aspects of it.”

“Really?” I asked. “You want this?”

Mark shrugged. “Why not? Maybe it’ll be hot, and if you don’t like the first twenty pounds, you can lose it all faster than I’ll be able to lose all this.” He slapped his gut and sent it shaking.

“I uh… okay,” I agreed. “Yeah, I’ll try it out.”

The changes to our classic routine were unsettling at first. No more subtly suggesting dessert or quietly giving extra portions, now Mark would quite happily take seconds and snack throughout the day. He also made sure he wasn’t alone though - everything he ate, he would make me match, to the point that most days I’d end the day cradling my too full stomach while he gently rubbed it for me. Being more open about my preferences meant that we could start introducing food into the bedroom as well - sex now meant ice cream and chocolate and whole-cakes, all eaten off each other’s bodies or while Mark was deep inside of me.

While Mark’s gains kept up a good pace, especially for a man his size, the weight hit my body like a freight train. Without the base of muscle that Mark had, my gains were much softer, and spread across my body as opposed to Mark’s firm core ball gut and fat covered muscles. I found myself loving it - I'd get distracted by the way my flesh would slide past itself, the gentle restriction of clothes just on the verge of being too tight, and the pillowy softness of my body. I would find myself in work-meetings slipping a finger between shirt buttons to stroke around my navel, and it became one of Mark’s favourite jokes to point out when I’d mindlessly pull my shirt up while at home so I could play with my underbelly.

"You not going to lose too much weight while I'm gone, big guy?" Mark asked, kissing me on the cheek as he hoisted his bag on his shoulder.

I swallowed the last of the custard slice I was eating. "You're only going for a week," I pointed out. "Besides, you've managed to put nearly a hundred pounds on me in less than a year, I don't think I'm likely to stop losing weight anytime soon."

"Oh, I see," Mark said laughing. "It's me who put all that weight on you is it? You didn't have anything to do with it?"

"I should be more worried about you!" I said, changing the subject. "Going with all those skinny twigs - they're hardly going to make sure you're eating right."

He gripped his gut with both hands and lifted it. "It's a stag do," he said simply. "My diet's going to consist of beer and kebabs. I don't think you have to worry."

I kissed him goodbye, our guts melding into one another, and he left to get his taxi. I made my mind up to give him something special to come back to - as much weight as I could conceivably gain in the week he was away. I was sure I could put on five pounds (we both did that easily in the week between last Christmas and New Years), but how much more could I do?

Me and Mark were both used to four enormous meals as standard by now, so I added multiple tubs of ice cream and gainer shakes each day on top, to really kickstart my growth. I spent the next week bloated, groggy and uncomfortable - it was one of the hottest things I've ever done.

By the time Mark was back, I'd managed to push eleven more pounds onto my body, bringing me up to a cool 267 pounds. He walked into me lying prone on the sofa, shirt off, fresh stretch marks covering my gut, melted ice cream dripping onto soft moobs. I struggled to sit up to greet him, burping through a smile.

"Uhh, hi," he said, not moving from the doorway. His gaze hovered somewhere over my head.

"How was Berlin?" I asked, finally managing to sit up with a soft "ooft".

"Yeah it was…" he trailed off. "You know, fun. Good to see the lads." Still by the doorway. Still no eye contact.

"Is everything okay?" I asked, the ice cream sitting less comfortably in my stomach by the second.

"Yeah, no, it was just…" He finally moved away from the doorway, pacing around the room, eyes looking at everything except my expanded form. "They kept on taking the piss out of me," he said eventually. "You know, for being so fat."

"Right…" I said slowly. "But you're… you're okay with that, right?" I stood up with some effort and moved towards him. He moved towards the kitchen, still not meeting my eyes. "You've said you find it hot?" I felt self-conscious now, and looked around for a t-shirt I could put on.

He sighed, and finally looked at me. "Maybe not everything has to be hot," he said simply. "Like, yeah, it's great for sex but… Christ Ben, I'm over 24 stone now! Look at me!" He gestured down to his body, swollen with fat in every direction. "Every fucking day was just me trailing behind everyone else, completely out of breath, putting up with fucking jokes every other minute about my double chin and moobs and rolls-"

"Okay, your mates are arseholes!" I said. "Does that matter? Your workmates make jokes like that all the time."

"It's not my mates!" His voice was growing louder. "They're right! We've- I've-" He sighed and rubbed his face, his double chin moulding under his fingers. "We've taken it too far." He looked at me in the eyes. "This," he gestured down at himself and looked guiltily at me, "isn't just 'being a big guy' anymore. It's really, properly fat."

We tried to avoid talking about it for a few days. Then talked about dieting, going to the gym, building muscle, what weight might be a good compromise. Every conversation turned into an argument. Every meal, every shopping list.

I'd gotten so used to over-eating that I'd sneak off in the middle of the night or when he was at work to gorge. The couple of times he caught me turning into raging arguments. The times I caught him doing the same weren't much better.

Three weeks later, he'd packed his bags and gone to his parents. Whereas in the past I'd have stopped eating, I'd now fundamentally rewired my brain. Comfort eating was now de rigueur and every day seemed to overshadow the last. My snacks would have left a grown man satisfied, my meals turned into feasts, ice cream filled the time between like it filled in gaps in my stomach.

I ballooned. My tits drooped, my stomach swelled, my thighs chafed. I was grateful my job was mainly work-from-home, since my old clothes became restrictive to the point of pain. Buying clothes became a matter of adding the biggest size available to my cart and hoping for the best, waiting for the day I had to move to big-and-tall shops. Whenever I did have to go into the office, button-ups strained, my belt dug in, ties became comedically short. I saw my coworkers talking to each other, jokingly at first, then with concern. How could they not? I took up twice the space that I had done not long before, my face was round and jowly and soft. HR sent an email asking if I'd like a stronger chair. Emails were sent round reminding people about the gym memberships that the company offered, ostensibly office-wide, but I knew who they were targeted at.

When I reached 325 pounds I realised I almost weighed as much as Mark had when he left. Would I celebrate, I wondered, once I passed that milestone? Eat a cake to myself? Would that even register at this point?

I heard the door open and close, and I twisted around as best as I could. My flexibility had reached a critical point - now every action came with resistance, as fat bunched against fat and stretched around the sheer bulk of me. I looked around desperately at the mess around me, the ice cream cartons, cake boxes, tubs of cake frosting eaten straight.

"Ben?" Mark asked. I stood up as quickly as I could, tried to pull down my t-shirt so it covered the rest of my gut, did my best to button my shorts. I felt his hands on my arms before I even had a chance to get a good look at him. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

I looked up, finally. "You've lost weight," I said. It was true. His gut, his double chin, his tits, all were still there, big, but diminished.

He chuckled. "The lads at the site still call me a fat bastard," he said and shook his belly. It was true, I supposed - by anyone else's standards he was still obese. "You, erm, haven't," he added, quietly. "Lost weight, I mean."

I felt huge. Disgusting. "I can lose it," I promised, tears welling up in my eyes. "I just missed you so much and-"

"No," Mark said.

"No?" I asked.

"No," he repeated. "I don't need you to lose weight, I don't need…" He sighed. "I thought I needed to get fit again. Lose all the weight. I started going to the gym, dieting. Started seeing results. Got down to two-sixty."

I peered at him. "You're not…" I began.

"No, I'm about two-eighty now. Probably a bit more," he answered my unspoken question. "I realised being smaller wasn't making me happy. Once I stopped dieting, the weight piled back on." He ran a finger across his moustache and looked around nervously. "Then I realised the reason I wasn't happy was because I wasn't with you." I noticed for the first time that he was holding back tears.

I moved towards him and help him for a while. He gripped me tight, his strong arms sinking into my soft back.

A while later, we were sat at the table, a chinese takeaway in front of us - a small attempt at normality.

"So," Mark said, looking at me sideways and speaking slowly, as if to test the waters. "What are you weighing at these days?" he asked.

I sucked air through my teeth. I knew this was coming. I wasn't upset as such - by this point, our relationship was defined by fat. It was a shock though, him coming back having lost so much weight, me having put on so much. "Three-two-five," I said, as calmly as I could. "Well, a couple of weeks ago at least."

Mark whistled and reached over to slide a hand across my belly, as if in admiration. "God, did you ever imagine you'd be the bigger one in the relationship?" he asked. I felt my face go red, and I started to stammer a response. "I've got to be honest," he continued. "I'm pretty jealous."

I choked. "Jealous?" I managed to spit out. "Of being this big?"

He sighed wistfully. "I've always been a big guy, you know? And then when I started going out with you I got used to being the biggest guy in most situations. And I definitely never thought I'd be smaller than you."

I smirked. "Fancy changing that?"

He chuckled. "Just you wait," he said. "I'll be the bigger one again in no time."

I grinned and picked up a rib. "Good," I said. "No man of mine is going to be under three hundred. You'll have to hurry up and catch me though," I told him. "I'm going to be a moving target."

He smiled. "Sounds great." He spooned some food onto his plate. "See you at three hundred and fifty pounds?" he teased.

I grinned. "At least."

[maraudersmyloves]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

pairing: Mattheo riddle x Reader, Enzo x reader

Warnings: My bad English, unedited, Panic attack, unrequited feelings

synopsis: the reader is freaking out Enzo is helping

Disclaimer 1: Everything on this Blog is fiction!!!

Word count: 629

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆｡ﾟ. ───

Your eyes have started burning from trying not to let the tears fall from your eyes and you can hear your heart pumping in your ears. It doesn't matter that Mattheo was kissing another girl. You desperately try to slow your rapid breathing. It has to stop. You look around the empty hall. Someone could come anytime. This has to stop. But it isn't and you don't know why.

Dread washes over you like a wave, crushing you and making you scramble to sit down and lean your weight against the wall. The cold concrete is startling against your burning skin.

Your mouth feels tacky and dry, making you panic even more. Did someone poison you?? You only realize you've started crying when you scrub your face to come to your senses and feel the wetness on your cheeks. You take a rapid breath in.

Suddenly your chest starts stinging as if someone stabbed you. You clutch at it feeling your heart beat. You are overly aware of your rings on your sweaty fingers.

You quickly slide them off, but one is just not doing what it's supposed to fucking do. Why the fuck is it not coming off. You let out a silent scream. Shake your hand in a panic and try again.

When the ring finally pops off, it doesn't give you the hoped satisfaction. You clench and unclench your fingers while releasing a sob that hurts your chest. You lay your head on your knees, finally giving in to your crying. You've liked Mattheo for two years and while you knew he was fucking some girl every night you never had to see it since he never kisses them in public not wanting to make the girls think the sex means more than it does. Maybe that girl is different. Yay.

Suddenly you hear someone repeatedly call your name. You look up to see Enzo.

You don't want him to see you like this, your face sticky with tears and snot, so you put your Head back down. "Hey, look at me." You let out another sob at the sweetness and pity lacing his voice. "It's okay. I've got you. I've got you. Just breathe. Breathe with me."

You try to focus on your breathing. It's hard and you keep hiccuping and the urge to just start crying again isn't really helping. "Perfect, love. You're doing great. In and out. In and out. I've got you." You listen to his breathing. Your heart is slowing down and your skin is cooling down. You raise your head again to look at Enzo. Perfect Enzo. Still slowly breathing and helping you calm down completely.

After another minute of silent breathing you speak up, "Do you have a tissue?" He chuckles and pulls some tissues out of his Pocket. You blow your nose and relief fills you at how freely you can breathe.

"Thank you," you say smiling and you both know you're thanking him for more than the Tissue.

"Always happy to help."

He stares at you for a second before continuing "You wanna stay here or... go to your dorm?"

You chuckle a bit when you realize how you must look right now. Messy Hair, bloodshot Eyes, and red nose. "Oh god, I look awful don't I?" It's not really a question. He answers anyway. "You? Never. You always look gorgeous."

A laugh tumbles out of your throat and you push him slightly. "Oh, shut up."

He smiles and sits down next to you, shoulder to shoulder. After a minute of comfortable silence, you lay your head on his shoulder. He gives you a little kiss on the crown of your head, making you burn hot again. "I was bein serious, by the way. You are gorgeous"

[bakuslove]

IT’S IN THE LITTLE THINGS

﹒ॱ˖ 🖇️ FEATURING. pro hero!bakugo x feminine!reader

﹒ॱ˖ ☆ CONTENT. fluff, sfw, established relationship, pro hero!bakugo, no pronouns are used for the reader but they’re written to be feminine WC. 825

﹒ॱ˖ 💬 SYNOPSIS. Katsuki never needed words to tell you how much you mean to him.

Katsuki doesn’t say ‘I love you’ often.

In fact, those three little words never leave his mouth during the first few months, almost a year actually, that you’re together. No matter how much he wants to say them, he finds it impossible for them to slip off the tip of his tongue. 

He gets red in the face at the mere thought of how difficult it is to tell you the very thing you’ve said to him to months now and he’s convinced there’s something wrong with him. 

He’s been a pro hero for years now, facing some of the world’s most terrifying villains on the daily, but you... you still make his hands sweat like he’s some sort of stupid middle schooler too afraid to confess to his crush. Except now you’re his girlfriend. Of nearly a year. The hard part should be over now. Yet he’s stuck trying to say the words he wishes he could say from day one. 

But his inability to speak his mind around you doesn’t seem to bother you nearly as much, and that’s because you were able to witness the things he did for you and only you. 

Katsuki never needed to say ‘I love you’. Even if the moment called for it, even if the words scrapped against the inside of his ribs and clawed up his throat, even if they danced on the tip of his tongue when you looked at him like that, Katsuki never needed words to tell you how much you mean to him.

Every word he ever needed to tell you was in the little things. The little things he did for you without you needing to raise a finger or bat an eye or part your pretty lips to ask. 

From the very start, he found ways to work you into his schedule. From waking up just five minutes earlier than you so he could make your coffee just the way you like it to sorting your laundry by colors, whites, and delicates just like he does with his own. From making you an extra portion at dinner even if he wasn’t sure you were coming over to buying you your favorite fruits to keep as a snack at his place when you started visiting more often. 

It may have taken Katsuki almost a year of having you in his life for him to say those three little words, but you knew he loved you before they were spoken. You knew from the way his hand would find the small of your back in crowded spaces and from how he’d always make sure to pick up when you call no matter what he was in the middle of doing. 

Katsuki’s love for you was nestled in the corners and crooks of the littlest things he did for you. 

“Did you buy these?” you ask over your shoulder just loud enough to trump the sound of running water.

“Why the hell else would I have strawberry scented shit in my shower?” Katsuki mumbles, arms crossing over his chest as he leans against the doorway, watching as you undress for your shower. 

“Aw, don’t tell me you like me or something~” you tease, flashing him a smile before disappearing behind the shower curtain.

But it still isn't even the bottles of body wash or separate bar of soap -that you’re certain he bought for you but seems to be getting enough milage for you to suspect that he must be using it too- that proves his affection for you.

It happens after your shower when you’re getting ready for bed, applying that lotion that makes him crazy all while wearing that Dynamight t-shirt he gifted you for when you spend your nights with him. It happens when you let you a gentle sigh, leaning your head on his chest as his hands grip your thighs and pull them over his lap. His course palms are rough against the silky smooth plush of your thighs and your hair smells so, so heavenly, the words just slip from his mouth.

“I love you,” he breaths, eyes glued to where his other hand now caresses your own, the scarred pad of his thumb ghosting over your knuckles.

But you don’t squeal, you don’t laugh, you don’t cry, you don’t even get angry at him for taking so long. You don’t react in any of the ways he imagined you’d react in the hundreds of times he played out this scenario in his head before. Instead, you smile at him, soft and sweet like you always do, your pretty eyes shining in the dim lighting of his bedroom, and you press a lingering kiss to the stubble on his cheek

“I love you too, Katsuki.”

Even after he finally let himself say the words he’s been meaning to say for so long, he never stopped telling you just how much he loved you. Not only with words, but in all the little things he does for you each and every day. 

[honeys-hotties]

loved your recent jb fic!! was wondering if you had any hcs for her and actress!reader??

OMG OMG OMG I LOVE U THIS IS SO GOOD

Okay so, I've never done hcs officially before so I hope these are okay!

actress!reader is my bby i've been acting for so long so i love her

i hc that julien is a big fan of her work and has loved her for years, like maybe she's jb's unofficial celeb crush?

the major swiftie in me has actress!reader and taylor as good friends, so i think actress!reader met phoebe through taylor and the two of them rly hit it off

and actress!reader loves phoebe's music but doesn't know bg that well, so she starts listening and (like all of us) immediately loves julien

and phoebe knows julien loves reader and now reader likes jb, so she's scheming to get them together so hard

so maybe actress!reader goes to the eras tour, to one of the shows phoebe opens for and sees the boys on stage and is just SO enamored with julien

and jb knows she's there and is freaking out the whole time

and then after they finish their set the boys go to hang out in the tent and actress!reader meets lucy and julien and they're both totally freaking out

and jb gets all flustered and is like "omg i love you-i mean, i love your work" and the reader is just so happy

and when she compliment's julien's singing and guitar? it's over for baby jules

so throughout the whole show jb and reader can't keep their eyes off each other, julien is like sneaking glances as her and is just so in awe

reader is so into the show (the best concert of all time i will forever be reliving it) and is dancing with pheobe, and eventually pheebs pushes her onto julien and they're all over each other dancing and singing and just being in each other's presence

and after the show they all hang out together and jb and reader just can't get enough of each other and everyone can see the sparks flying

they exchange numbers and are talking and texting all the time, and eventually jb asks her out, and the rest is history!!

okay dating hcs!

i think jb is insanely protective of the reader, like any time they're out together she has her hands on reader, she's always keeping an eye on her, just guard dog vibes

julien is also her number one fan, every project, every event, every award she is just so proud and hyping her gf up at any given moment

actress!reader and jb bring each other to all of their awards shows and premieres and stuff and there are SO many pictures of the two of them just being so in love

the boys (and muna<3) are in love with actress!reader

phoebe and reader are besties, but after reader and jb start dating lucy loves her too

muna is literally obsessed with her and will tease jb constantly, like "you better watch out or one of us is gonna steal your girl"

hyping each other up online like "FUCK YEAH LOOK AT MY SUPER AMAZING TALENTED GF"

the cutest photo dumps of each other online

actress!reader and jb both have really crazy schedules and they're both traveling a lot, so constant facetiming is a must, but I feel like they send snail mail and love letters too

she gets tattoos for actress!reader, like her initial or maybe a reference to one of her roles or smth?

matching tattoos! (if that's something ur into ofc)

the hickeys she had on snl and the red carpet? some of actress!reader's best work

omg matching hickeys yes please

lots of reassurance for each other, like "i love you, you're the one i want to be with" especially when actress reader has to play someone's love interest or reader sees jb kissing the boys on stage

LOTS of physical touch, her hands on actress!reader's hips or in her back pocket or around she shoulders at ALLLLLLL times

actress reader has a shirt that says something like "i'm with the band" or "i <3 guitarists" that she wears to bg shows

literally just them being so obsessed and in love it hurts

constantly telling each other how grateful they are to have each other

jb definitely writes songs for & about actress!reader

hopefully you guys liked these!! ty for the requests, love you all infinitely <3

[chososlvts]

Such a good boy

Choso is a good boy so you reward him.

READ THE TAGS

tw: heavy mommykink, fem!reader, sub!choso, dom!reader, light bdsm, sucking dick.

“Oh Choso, you look so perfect tied up for me like that.”

“Please.. please momm-..” he whined desperately.

From your place in the doorway, it turned you on to have this huge man at your disposal. You knew as well as him that he could break out of his binds whenever he wanted. But he didn’t just to please you.

You stood there just watching him intently, his dick almost turning a violent shade of purple, flopping on his rock hard abs. You hadn’t let him touch himself and you were drinking his needy features in.

“Come on Choso, I want to hear you say it all.” You babbled mindlessly, entranced by his length and girth.

So you can imagine your surprise when you catch him moaning your name, “I- I need you please, touch me..”

You regained your posture quickly, “Aw.. just because you asked nicely, baby.” You cooed.

He whined loudly in reply.

You made your way over to the bed in at least 5 steps, drawing them out longer than they should be. Teasing and edging Choso.

When you finally got there though you had to hold in a gasp. It was… gorgeous, and so up close. His cock was covered in a heavy layer of thick pre-cum, glistening in the illuminated room. The tip was spouting more and more by the second, this must have been killing him.

He wasn’t even looking at you, he was face down staring at your pussy. You were quite stirred by this as you were wearing full clothing, a cute black tank top and ass shorts. You glanced back at Choso, and he was breathing hard, face glistening with sweat. His face was almost as red and angry as his cock. Your pussy fluttered.

“Hey Choso..” you breathed. He looked up at you with adoring eyes.

“Yes ma’am.” He choked.

“You’ve been such a good boy haven’t you?” You praised.

More cum leaked out of his cock, and it twitched violently.

“Mhm— I mean.. yes ma’am.” He whispered, his cock still twitching bad.

“Do you want me to touch it Choso? You want mommy to touch you?” You teased again.

“Ngh- fuck yes mommy- please pl-“ he muttered.

You felt like you could cum straight off his reactions. He wasn’t ashamed at all, and he spread his knees more apart.

“Hey Choso..” you sighed, kneeling at the edge of the bed so you could look up at him.

“Y-yes ma’am?” He answered immediately, looking away from you.

“Hey look at me love.” You said sternly.

He turned his face to look you dead in the eye, eyebrows knitted together and mouth slightly open, panting. He had wisps of his spikey hair hanging all around his head and some sticking to his forehead.

“Since you have been such a good boy I think I might untie you..” you decided.

You smiled as he groaned, spilling a little more pre-cum, eyes shut.

“Come on open those pretty eyes for me love.” You demanded as you stood to climb the bed.

He did as he was told and his low eyes followed your hands as you crawled behind his back to untie the loose knots.

You were so close to him you could hear his hard breaths every second, his body heat radiating off him.

You could tell how hard it was for him to not grab you and murder your cervix with his bulbous tip. That’s why you were going to reward him, since you were so nice to him.

“You have been such a good boy Choso, it seems you need a reward for it.” You told him slyly, focusing on the last knot.

“A reward?” He perked, his heart beating faster.

“Yes baby.” You confirmed as the last knot came undone.

His eyes still followed you as you moved off the bed to kneel down on the floor next to the edge of the bed. You beckoned him with your finger, and he shuffled so quick to his place you almost missed it.

“Someone’s eager..” you teased.

He nodded vigorously and you chuckled lightly.

You started by massaging his large thighs, thinking how your head could be easily crushed between them. Your painfully slow hand worked their way up to the spot he wanted you to touch most.

You stopped just before his large member, looking into his eyes for a reaction.

And he delivered, his head thrown back while his large chest heaved with each breath. He propped himself up on his elbows showing you his stretched, shredded abdomen.

You shook your head a bit, but went on with your work.

“Now baby, I wanna hear those pretty noises alright..” you warned before quickly grabbing onto the base of his cock and lightly squeezing.

“Ye-..yes mommy!” He yelped and his whole body twitched slightly.

You cunt throbbed at his sound.

“That’s it baby.” You cooed, adding your other hand stacked on top of the first.

He groaned loudly.

You started to move, but agonisingly slowly. Up just a little, then down.

“Faster.. heuh, faster.” He whispered, but you caught it barely.

“Did you just tell me to go faster?” You bullied, but secretly you were willing to do anything this man told you.

“No- hu-fuck, no ma’am.” He denied.

“Oh Choso, you know you can tell the truth to me..” you smiled evilly.

“Yes- oh fuuuuc- yes go faster please.” He groaned involuntary snapping his hips up.

“Go faster who?..” one of your hands ventured down and grabbed his strained balls, eliciting a good reaction.

He sucked his teeth in and yelled “Mo-mommy!”, only to whine loudly when you pumped his cock like how he wanted.

“Good boy..” his cock jerked in your hands.

As you worked his cock at a much faster pace, Choso got quite restless and sat up to look down at you.

“Your- you’re so perfect mommy. So perfect jerk- ahh~ jerking me off..” he mumbled mindlessly.

Pre-cum was pooled in your underwear by now.

You decided to take the next step and brought your mouth up to kitten lick the tip and he spasmed hard.

“Oh fuck!- yeah keep licking, please mommy keep licking.” He said his hands finding their way into your braids to hold them back.

Then you really got to it.

Your mouth swallowed him in one go, taking the whole thing.

“Arghh- fuck mmm. Your mouth… it’s so so fucking warm dont stop.” He cried.

You bobbed your head, never fully taking this cock out of your throat, not even for a breath. He was so large your hands kept at his base to satisfy the whole length.

“Yeah fuck- just like that girl. mm you’re so perfect keep going- ahh.” He moaned.

He slowly bucked his hips into your mouth and you took it out just to suck in a deep breath before going back in, not giving Choso even a second to adjust.

“Oh fuck, mommy I think I’m gonna cum. Keep going like that and I think I’m gonna cum mommy.” He muttered.

Well in that case, you thought, then you let his cock go with a pop. Causing him to shake and scrunch your hair tighter.

“Why- fuck- mommy I was so close, ngghh...” He pleaded.

Lmk if y’all want a part2 😜

[kuro-is-doodlin]

You're... Still... Alive

[Spoiler for in stars and time, up to the end of act 4]

[CW for exhaustion, sui, self harm and self neglect]

This is the continuation of my previous lore post ;)

You wake up.. in a bed?.. oh, so this is the same loop. How weird, to be back at the clocktower. You barely ever go there now. You either slip on that awful banana peel, or just… stab. You couldn’t get yourself to use your dagger in the village before, but now, it doesn’t matter.

Sometimes, your hands shake again, holding your dagger. You see the light hit it, the metal shining, and your face… And you realize just how far down you fell.

Still, you do it, you always do it. Can’t waste time.

You suddenly realize something is heavy on you. You open your eye and try to focus your vision on whatever is crushing your side right now.

It’s Bonnie, they’re on the bed, too, curled against you. Their eyes are closed, but a little darker and swollen.

You blink.

With what’s left of your strength, you raise your hand, and slowly rest it on their hair, brushing them between your fingers. A hand joins in, touching yours ever so slightly. You’re too tired to flinch, but your eye turns to.. Isabeau.. He’s looking at Bonnie, but quickly focus on you, giving you a smile. Not one of those explosive smiles you used to see before, no, this one is.. Sad. So incredibly sad.

With a Soft, but deep voice, he asks.

“How are you feeling, Sif? Do you need me to move Bonbon?”

You blink… And shake your head a little. It’s fine, you can barely feel a thing anyway.

“Okay..”

He sighs. Is he upset at you? For being so useless before the end of the world happens? Maybe.. Maybe he is… You don’t know.. What exactly their personalities are anymore. Isa is… Buff, yeah, you can see that, idiot. But he’s… He is….

He is petting your hair now, looking at you, into your eye.. To make sure you’re comfortable.

That’s right.. He’s kind.. So kind, caring, always here for you. His eyes.. so full of life, of.. love.. How could you even forget that?..

He never told you but.. You know.

You know, oh so well, why he’s always looking at you that way. You.. love that feeling.

“Alright, Siffrin, can you tell us what’s happening to you, please? You look like you’ve just spent a year stuck in a cave.”

It’s Odile.. She’s in your blind spot, you can’t see her. But you know her voice. That’s one thing you think you can remember.

“Three… actually..”

You cough, it’s hard to speak when you don’t do that anymore.

Ah, and here they are, looking at you like you just said the most shocking thing ever. But you don’t want to explain, you can’t explain, you’re tired. “Siffrin…”

You hear Mira, she must be next to Odile, she sounds concerned. Bonnie.. Bonbon is sobbing, they try to make it so you can’t hear them, but you know. You hear. You... feel. It’s warm…

Plic..

Ploc..

On the sheets you’re tucked into.

“There is.. A book.. It’s hidden in my cloak..”

You try your best to be clear, you can feel them getting closer to hear you. Wow, you voice must be sooo fucked up right now.

“Please, don’t wake me up.. You can.. read it.. But please.. Let me rest.”

You see a nod from Isa, hear a faint “hn”. That’s enough for you to close your eye again, as you’re dragged down to sleep once more.

[kasagia]

Heyyy! So I was wondering if it was possible for you to write something where klaus forces the reader to marry him and they have a daughter hope(she can be a baby or a kid) and the reader can kind of tolerate klaus for the sake of her daughter but actually hates him and over time she falls in love with elijah's nobility and confesses to him at a party or something and klaus overhears ending is up to you<3

Loved by them two

Pairing: Klaus Mikaelson x reader, Elijah Mikaelson x reader, Summary: After your parents (pack leaders) arranged your marriage to Klaus (with whom you accidentally had a one-night stand earlier), you tied your fate irrevocably to the Mikaelsons. Problem? 1. You hate your husband for tricking you into this marriage. 2. His noble brother is too alluring. 3. You find out the hard way that hate, love, and lust are a very explosive mixture. Especially when you add the two Mikaelsons to it. Warning(s): argument, fight, blood, love triangle, smut, the first time I wrote something bordering on smut, angst, fluff, the reader kisses Elijah and then goes to bed with Klaus; generally, the reader doesn't know what to do; but she has two hot brothers on her call; three in total because Kol is her best friend; I really like this one after all Nonsense from me: I combined these two requests because they seem to go together. Also sorry if I didn't include enough Elijah x reader (despite my huge crush for all the Mikaelsons, Klaus will always get somehow a girl 😅). I also took a gif from here, because... well it's good. Word count: 8,3k (it's pretty long, I admit, but I don't regret any minute of writing it.)

You hated Klaus Mikaelson with all your heart. Your abhorrent, psychotic husband. A man who somehow was the father (even though you've tried to disprove it many times) of your precious, sweet little daughter Hope.

If the devil could take human form, no doubt it would be your husband.

You met him by accident. You and your friends went out into the city to have fun. You met a hot, handsome blond guy in a bar, went to bed with him, and left his house the next day without a word, expecting never to see him again. You wouldn't think that when you get back to your pack of wolves, your parents - the alphas of the pack - will tell you that you're getting married in a month. And not just anyone. Klaus Mikaelson was going to be your husband. A 1,000-year-old werewolf and vampire hybrid.

You will remember for the rest of your life what they told you when they were destroying your chance for happiness.

"The pack must be strong. This marriage and your assumption of power will guarantee us a secure position in New Orleans. No witches, vampires, or other werewolves will stand in our way. This alliance with the originals will guarantee us power beyond our ancestors' imagination. The crescent wolf and other packs will succumb to our strength. It is your duty to do this for your people."

Of course, you objected to the idea as soon as they told you. But you weren't a leader yet, so your opinion didn't matter much. Especially when your first meeting with your fiancé was only a few minutes away. At least the first official meeting.

You thought the guy must look like a walking fossil. You were surprised when you met that hottie from last night.

And from then on, your whole life became hell.

You tried everything to back out of that engagement. Really everything. Even a fake pregnancy with another, which turned out not to be so fake after all. And unfortunately for you, the father of your child was HE. The curse of your existence.

So he sped up the wedding, and you became the wife of the most dangerous vampire in the world. Cool! At least you got lots of presents and access to his bank accounts all over the world. The pros of being an incubator for a miracle baby.

Then you met your guardian angel. Elijah Mikaelson - the older brother of your awful husband. Your only consolation (other than Hope) in this terrible situation. Your friend, soul mate, and the man of your dreams.

Fate liked to make fun of you, it forced you to marry the wrong brother.

Elijah was everything any woman could ask for. A tactful gentleman, respecting and supporting female feminism, always keeping his word, a walking ideal. The complete opposite of your cruel husband.

You were completely in love with him. So much so that when he held your beautiful one-year-old daughter in his arms, you imagined that he was her father. Your fantasy was almost always spoiled by your husband stepping on the three of you and taking the baby out of his hands.

You had no idea why Klaus had even chosen to make your life a nightmare. There were other ways he could have taken control of the city; he didn't have to become the leader of your pack and marry you.

But he always did and took what he wanted. You found out after being stuck in this happy swamp of being married to Klaus for a year. So you took great satisfaction in denying him the one thing he could never have and so desired - your love and affection.

It was another big mystery for you when it came to Klaus and his complicated personality. Yes, you had a child together, and you were stuck with him, but before that, you didn't know each other. So why did the mighty hybrid decide to find a mate and lead his own pack with them? And why was he strangely obsessed with creating a happy, loving family with you and Hope?

Worse, he turned out to be a good alpha to your pack and an even better father. You couldn't say a bad thing. You two ruled the werewolves, enhanced by your fusion, as equals. And Hope loved it when he sang her lullabies and tucked her in to sleep. Ironically, she calmed down better in the murderous original's arms than in yours.

Even your own child was against you.

Fortunately, in this cold, dark Mikaelson mansion, there was one soul who stood by your side no matter what. The only one you could trust implicitly without fear of ending up with a stake in your back.

Elijah was a gift from heaven to you.

During your pregnancy with Hope, he helped you in every possible way. He was always there for you, whether it was holding your hair as you returned all the breakfast he had prepared for you earlier or reading aloud to you as he massaged your aching ankles.

And when did you become a hybrid? He was the one who taught you self-control for the most part (while Klaus was busy doing something else and couldn't see the two of you, of course).

There was only one problem. Your terribly possessive husband.

As soon as Klaus came into your sight, Elijah had to move two meters away from you, or all hell would break loose.

And you're not exaggerating at all.

One day, when you were watching a movie and lying on the couch, leaning against each other and covered with one blanket, you didn't notice the hybrid enter the living room. You didn't even blink when your companion was dragged from his place and thrown to the other end of the house. A second later, a very angry and jealous vampire took his place, hugging you much closer than his brother and placing his hands on your growing belly.

You didn't react to his show of strength then.

Elijah and Rebekah taught you long ago to choose your battles with Niklaus. It wasn't worth arguing with him about everything he'd done. Especially since you were pregnant at that time - you didn't always have the strength to get into fights with him.

But now as a hybrid, queen of your pack and whole New Orleans? Oh no, you wouldn't let that man fucking rule you.

You tried to make his life hell. You defied him every step of the way, overthrowing his dark plans and bringing your own to life. Of course, you did it all with a sweet, stupid smile, occasionally showing him small acts of tenderness, such as hugging or kissing on the cheek or forehead (on exceptional, life-threatening occasions, you even sacrificed and kissed him), to lull his vigilance.

But Klaus wasn't stupid. He knew exactly what you were doing and was happy to let you change a couple of his plans if it meant a kiss from you.

And you thought it was what made him fall for you.

You were stubborn, always getting your way, going over the dead to achieve your goal if it was to protect your loved ones.

And Klaus loved it. You don't know if it was his weird fetish - the guy always got what he wanted and no one dared stand up to him, so he felt for the girl who didn't want to succumb to him. You were probably one of the few survivors of the rebellion against him. And the one who could do literally anything without any fear of the hybrid hurting you.

You get used to this life. Secret meetings with Elijah in the library, discussions in the living room while Hope played with her toys on the carpet and watched cartoons on TV, occasional shopping and girls' nights with Bekah and Freya, and even to Kol's pranks and tricks.

Even your relationship with Klaus has been better lately. You tried so openly not to show your hostility towards the hybrid. After all, he was your daughter's father and Hope deserved at least a semblance of normalcy - parents who don't want to kill each other every 5 minutes.

But tonight, everything was about to change.

~•♤♤♤•~

"So you want me to go with you to some weird party organized by your current archenemy Tristan, and Klaus gave you his permission to take me out of the house?" you asked the original who made the pancakes for you as you discussed another plan to outsmart the de Martel siblings while cradling Hope in your arms.

"I wouldn't call him an archenemy... just a minor inconvenience."

"Is that why you and Klaus tremble with anger every time I say his name?"

"No, it's because a beautiful lips as yours shouldn't be tainted by such a terrible name."

"So whose name should I keep saying, Elijah?" you asked with a teasing smirk, licking your lips.

The original leaned slightly towards you. The tension in the room was palpable between the two of you. You looked down from his captivating, mesmerizing eyes to those alluring lips you've dreamed of kissing ever since he turned out to be more than your asshole husband's brother to you. You were only a few centimeters apart... so little...

Hope's squirming in your arms reminded you of the baby's presence. And that you were standing so close to your husband's brother in broad daylight and in a place where anyone could easily walk in and see you two. Against your darkest, most hidden desire, you have moved away from the noble original. Elijah cleared his throat, going back to continuing your breakfast.

"I'll be ready at 8 p.m."

"The party starts at 7."

"So? Don't you think being fashionably late will be the perfect combination for the act of surprise when they see me hanging on your arm? We'll get their attention, so Klaus and Kol will do what they do the best."

"You know ladies don't usually talk about such… bloody things while holding babies in their arms?"

"Ladies, Elijah, but my wife is everything but that." the hybrid came out of nowhere with that arrogant smirk on his lips. "Hello, my queen. My little princess." Klaus smiled fondly and took Hope from you, making funny faces at the baby. The traitor started to giggle. You rolled your eyes but also smiled slightly upon hearing your daughter's cute laugh.

"Dada!" she screamed, grabbing his nose with her hands.

Yeah, this little traitor could already talk. No, the first word she said wasn't dad; it was mom. The problem is that her happy "dada" came out of her mouth too often compared to mama. Klaus was too pleased with this fact than you would have liked.

"Well, maybe if my loving husband was an exemplary gentleman, I could act like a lady."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

"How is Aurora? Did she let you out of her arms so quickly?" you asked sarcastically, trying to throw him off balance. You weren't in the mood to put up with that annoying asshole today.

"Did I just hear jealousy in your voice, love?"

"Haha, you wish. You have my full blessing to spend time with whoever wants you."

"Niklaus. I believe we were supposed to have a meeting before we put this grand plan into action. Will you forgive us, Y/N?" Elijah interrupted you before you two broke the incredible peace between you that had lasted for 4 months and started to jump at each other's throats.

"Just take him wherever you want."

"Brother, shall we?"

Klaus muttered something under his breath. He handed our daughter over to me and planted a quick, wet kiss on my neck before stepping out of my personal space. I growled at him, showing my golden eyes. The man merely laughed, waving to the little one before leaving the kitchen.

"Enjoy your meal, Y/N."

"You can try to lose him on the way back!" you screamed after the retreating man in the suit.

"WON'T HAPPEN, LOVE!" your husband shouted back, ruining (as usual) all your dreams.

"It's always worth giving a shot." you murmured, knowing full well that he would be able to hear you. You smiled victoriously, hearing his irritable, grumpy voice as he snapped back at one of his vampire errands.

~•♤♤♤•~

"You look amazing, Y/N." Elijah greeted you with a delighted smile as he watched you descend the stairs in a long, tight black dress with gold embellishments at the waist and the ends of the sleeves.

With your little tiara in your hair and a gold snake necklace entwined around your neck, you felt like a fucking queen.

You're not going to lie—you went all out with your preparations, and Rebekah made sure she did your makeup for your first big, official outing since Hope was born.

It wasn't until you came downstairs that you noticed that Elijah wasn't the only person sitting in the candlelit room. Klaus was sitting right next to him, looking at you with the same fascination and admiration as his brother. You felt a little uncomfortable being watched by two originals with heart-shaped eyes.

"Maybe I should choose a dress with a higher neckline after all?" you wondered as you watched them almost drool over your looks. They were both 1,000 years old but acted like horny teenagers.

"So I guess I'm dressed well enough to be a distraction for tonight?" you asked, bringing their attention back to your face. They both decided to act nonchalant, as if they hadn't been staring at your ass a few seconds ago.

"Maybe even to well, love." Klaus' heavy, watchful gaze didn't let you down an inch. You felt an involuntary shiver run through you with each step you took closer to the originals.

"My brother may be right. No one will be able to take their eyes off you."

"Thank you, Elijah."

Klaus cleared his throat as he got up from his chair and faced you. He took your hand gently, and after softly caressing the wedding band and engagement ring from him, he shifted his attention to your wrist, suddenly stopping his movements.

You looked up at his eyes, catching his gaze. You felt enchanted by these calm, blue eyes, their beauty mostly made you went to bed with him a year ago. You felt like any little move could break that strange spell between you two.

At one point, you felt cold metal settling on your wrist. You turned your gaze to the charming bracelet that, surprisingly, matched your outfit.

"It's for protection. In case you need help and no one can find you."

"So you've always known where I am? What is this, some kind of dog collar with a tracker?"

"No. Freya enchanted it for me. It's supposed to sense when you're in danger and let me know." he rolled up his sleeve, showing you a new bracelet on his wrist. "I have a similar one."

"Oh." you groaned in shock, completely not expecting something like this from him.

"Exactly. Oh. I guess I'm not the bad guy all the time."

"I didn't mean..."

"Of course you didn't. Have fun with my brother, love."

For the first time since you've known Klaus, you felt sorry for him. Due to the growing guilt you were feeling, you kept an eye on his receding shape until he passed through the door. You sighed, turning to face Elijah, who had already approached you from behind in a moment of your inattention.

"Don't worry. He'll get over it. Niklaus can't blame you for being careful with him." he tried to comfort you, but deep down you knew it was your fault this time.

And you weren't going to act like your husband, so you decided to apologize to him at the next opportunity. Unlike some, you were able to admit when you were wrong. However, Elijah didn't need to know about your plan.

"Maybe you are right. Let's go to this party."

~•♤♤♤•~

You were talking to Elijah at the bar while sipping your drink. You entered as planned—late, attracting the attention of most people. Rumors quickly spread throughout the supernatural community. Your favorite was that during that year of your "absence," you divorced Klaus and married his brother, now parading proudly with him around the salons. Elijah seemed to like it too.

You were enjoying the party until one of the de Martel siblings showed up. Tristan.

"Famous Y/N Y/L/N Mikaelson. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"And you sir are…?"

"Tristan de Martel. You must have heard about me from dear Elijah."

"To be honest, not so much. I only know that you're the one who invited us, for which I want to thank you." you played a stupid, naive girl with joy while watching the frown on his forehead. To remember: He does not like to be diminished or underestimated in any way. Mr. big ego.

"So perhaps you would do me the honor and dance with me? We could get to know each other better."

"Actually, this lady promised me her first dance. If you'll excuse us, Tristan."

"Of course. Enjoy yourselves."

Elijah grabbed your hand and led you to the dance floor. He pulled you closer to him, rocking you to the beat of the song. The original wanted to cause even more rumors... you wonder if Klaus agreed to his actions.

"He's a slippery guy. Now I know why you wanted me to stay away from him and his sister."

"You just spoke to him, how do you know..."

"Well, starting with the extravagant look of the room, the fact that his suit and watch literally scream I'm rich, and ending with the fact that he carries himself as if he were the master of this world, I've noticed other manic behaviors as well. Besides, it's obvious at first glance that he's desperately trying to imitate you. I don't like him."

"Should I assume that you don't like me as well?"

"No! No. I like you. More than you know. I don't know how I would have dealt with vampirism and all of this without you. Thank you for being there for me. Always." you murmured, resting your head on his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his cologne.

"And forever." he said, placing a tender kiss on top of your head. "You're more to me than I could ever admit."

"Do we have to? Pretend and hide the truth?" during your conversation, you didn't even notice when he led you to a more desolate place. Nobody was looking at you. There was only him and you.

"Niklaus..."

"Have you ever, in your entire, very long life, done something just for yourself, without thinking about your brother or sibling? Have you ever acted selfishly?"

"I can't be selfish with you." he said, resting his forehead against yours. You were so close to each other, so close to getting what you both wanted.

"Why?"

"It will destroy us all."

"Then let the world burn... just for a moment."

Elijah, after a moment's hesitation, leaned closer to you, embracing your slightly trembling figure with anticipation even tighter. He cupped your right cheek with his hand and finally brought your lips together in the long-awaited kiss.

Your first kiss with the original was… completely different from what you imagined. His soft lips didn't match up with yours as well as they did with…

You froze in complete shock as you realized your subconscious was comparing Elijah to Klaus. And surprisingly, it was more sympathetic to your hated husband, from whom you wanted so much to be free. In spite of this strange feeling of guilt that you somehow betrayed Klaus, you returned the kiss with more passion than before, trying to feel that wonderful tingling and buzzing in your head.

But it never came.

Something was missing in this perfect, fabulous setting for the first kiss with the love of your life. And you had no idea what was wrong.

Maybe first kisses with someone new were so… awkward?

Your treacherous mind reminded you that there was NEVER such an awkwardness between you and Klaus. Only pure passion and desire.

What the fuck happened to you? Why didn't you feel anything special when all your wet dreams were coming true?

You moved away first under the pretense of taking a breath. Staring into Elijah's eyes, you could feel the same attraction that accompanied you every time you stole those furtive glances from each other.

"I love you, Y/N. I've loved you since the first day you gave me a lecture on how Pride and Prejudice is Jane Austen's best book; how cliché it wasn't." you hit him on the shoulder, making him giggle. "And if the circumstances were completely different, if it were someone completely different, I wouldn't hesitate to be selfish just this once and take something from my brother. But I will not allow any harm to come to you or Hope through my actions."

Before you could say anything, you two heard a howl.

Klaus and Kol.

Elijah nodded at you. You disentangled yourself from his arms and ran upstairs to fulfill your role in the Mikaelsons' plan. You just hoped the guys would distract them long enough for you to find what you were looking for.

You searched their house, wondering how Elijah's confession would affect your relationship now.

But little do you know that you weren't the only one who heard it.

~•♤♤♤•~

It was a really fucked up night.

The peaceful surveillance of the de Martel house turned into a bloody battle between the originals and the first vampires they turned. Klaus' therapist, Cami, barely escaped a jealous attack by Klaus' ex-Aurora. You wonder how Klaus managed to reach Cami in time and why the red-haired psycho didn't target you and your child. Klaus must have put on quite a show for her.

In all the chaos, you didn't get a second chance for a moment alone with Elijah. The subject of your feelings still remained the elephant in the room. And frankly, you've had enough of it all. All you wanted now was a warm bath and playing with Hope. No more family drama.

Without Klaus, everything would have gone to hell. And as much as you hated that he forgot to include you in his plans for today, you couldn't help but be grateful to him for helping you protect your pack from vampires today. He didn't have to. He could watch the de Martel vampires kill your people and attack them when they get tired of fighting werewolves. Another demonstration of him being more than a villain to you.

It amazed you how one minute he was an irritating, ignorant, disrespectful asshole and the next your savior, protector, and equal partner in crime you could rely on.

You guess that's what your husband was like. Full of contradictions and surprises. Your private pet of nature.

You sighed in relief as you finally walked to your home. You took another step towards the mansion when you saw Klaus and Elijah getting out of the car and heading for the entrance.

You were about to join the originals, but you stopped dead at the sound of Klaus' pretentious voice.

"So we're just going to pretend you didn't kiss my wife and confess your feelings to her, or maybe you have an explanation?" you hid, eavesdropping on their conversation. "Don't think that after all that's happened, I've forgotten that you went a little too far in distracting the de Martels. You may get Aurora away from her that way, but it was superfluous, and I know you enjoyed every bloody second too much for me to just walk away from this."

"I don't have to explain myself to you. If she wants me, it's none of your business, Niklaus. You only married her because you made up a plan - Y/N has never wanted to be your wife and you have never cared about her." Klaus stopped, watching his brother blankly. He looked like something had broken inside him.

The hybrid suddenly lunged at the other man with his fists.

They started punching each other and throwing things at each other within reach. At one point, they both pushed off each other, landing on opposite walls. (Creating another dent to patch.)

"SHE IS MY WIFE! My mate! My queen! MOTHER OF MY CHILD! You have no right to her, brother! So I'm warning you… If I ever hear the littlest rumours about her having the smallest crush on you, I'll put you back in that bloody coffin, and I will release you after our eighth child comes into this world. She will be so madly in love with me that she won't even spare you a second glance when you meet again."

"I didn't know you loved plans that take over a thousand years to complete, brother. I never thought you could be so patient."

Klaus growled, throwing himself at his brother with a scream. From your hiding place, you could hear the sounds of a fight and shattered furniture.

You decided to wait a little longer before stepping in and heroically separating the two combatants. You didn't want it to seem like you overheard their argument.

Only when there was a sudden outburst followed by a suspicious silence did you decide to run into the house. You wouldn't expect them to demolish the entire living room in minutes, and Klaus would be bleeding out dangerously while trying to patch up the wound and drive the dagger into his brother's heart. 

The men didn't notice you as they tried to disable each other. You weren't going to come between them or stand on either side until Elijah, out of nowhere, pulled out Pappa Tunde's blade.

Your body reacted faster than your brain. You instinctively threw yourself between them, shielding Klaus from the blade.

They both froze when they saw you.

Time seemed to stop as both shocked and incredulous looks from the originals fell on you. To be honest, even you were surprised which side you were on. You blamed your stupid tendency to act instead of think in difficult situations. But you weren't going to show them that you were insecure about your actions. Not when they were both holding weapons harmful to the other one.

"Put it down." you said, looking straight at Elijah. "You too." you added, glancing over your shoulder at your husband, who was staring at you with a strange, unidentifiable look. Amazingly, he dropped the dagger to the ground first. Soon after, Elijah did the same. You quickly bent down to grab both weapons, putting them in your pockets. "Good. Are you calm now?" they nodded silently, waiting for your next move. "Great. So, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL YOU TWO WERE DOING?!"

Elijah took a breath, probably intending to give you some clever answer, but stopped as soon as you felt an unexpected weight fall down your back. You caught Klaus just in time before he slid to the floor. Holding him up, you noticed a wound on his right side. You reached out to touch his wound, but the hybrid's strong grip on your wrist stopped your hand.

"Don't. You'll get burned. Verbena and the wolfbane. Grenade."

"What the hell?! Elijah how could you throw a grenade at him?! Do you throw one back?!" you asked the man in your arms.

"I wanted. You stopped me."

"God, from now on, you're both grounded from being with Hope. Hell knows if that rage won't attack you in front of her! Come Klaus. I'll help you clean it up. Elijah, you can clean up here before Rebekah or Freya come." you said, casting a disappointed look at Elijah's outfit before helping the hybrid up the stairs.

"I would never..." Klaus tried to explain himself as you dragged him to his bedroom.

"Just shut up and sit down." you growled at him, pushing him onto the bed. You took the first aid kit from the bathroom and went back to him to disinfect his wound. "It'll hurt."

"Will you kiss it later? To ease the pain and speed up the healing process, of course."

"Don't try your luck any more today." you warned, rolling your eyes at his mischievous smirk.

He snorted, offended. He looked like a child who had been grounded for snacking on sweets. You sighed, trying not to laugh at his scowl. Unwittingly, you began to wonder what Hope would look like when she went through her rebellious period. Probably like her father when he did something wrong and got caught doing it. Well, at least you'll have some practice before she grows up.

"Do you love my brother?" he burst out suddenly while you were cleaning his wound made by verbena and wolfsbane. Why they had pomegranates from these plants shouldn't shock you as much as it did.

"What?" you asked, shoving a water-soaked cotton ball into his wound, which made him groan in pain. You gave him an apologetic look as you continued working on his side.

"Don't act stupid, it's not like you at all. Do you love my brother?"

"Of course I do, he's my friend and Hope's uncle." you replied unfazed, continuing your work.

"Let me rephrase that. Are you IN LOVE with my nobel brother?"

You tried to pretend that his question had no effect on you. You put down the cotton balls and tried to avoid his gaze to give some answer, but Klaus grabbed your chin, forcing you to look into his eyes. Fuck. You couldn't lie now. He always knew when you were lying, and now that you were exposed to his watchful gaze, you only knew one way out of this fucked-up situation.

So you pulled him closer to you, kissing him passionately.

He moaned, surprised by the feeling of your soft, enticing lips on his own. He wasted no more time. He put you on his lap, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you as close to him as possible.

The feeling of his warm skin against your clothed body reluctantly brought back memories of the night it all began.

Intoxicated by the feeling of his captivating lips on yours again (after so long), you didn't even notice when he threw you onto the bed, only momentarily breaking your kiss to let your hair down. He melted back into your mouth, hovering over you. The hybrid tangled his hand in your hair, tilting your head so he had better access to your equally eager mouth and tongue.

He moved to your neck, leaving wet kisses and gentle bites and rubbing every inch of your skin, effectively ruining any thought process in your head.

It was just you and him.

And after a very long time, you felt extraordinary pleasure and much-needed relief from the tension that your body had gone through today.

"Nik!" you moaned when he started sucking on the most sensitive spot on your neck, which he knew damn well existed and used every time to tease you.

But this time you moaned for him like a whore, too overwhelmed by the sensations his skilled hands and lips were giving you.

And this time, Klaus didn't hold back. His amber irises and possessive growl were the only warnings he gave you before he ripped your dress in half, revealing your dressed-in-lace-underwear body to him.

His wolf howled inside him.

He pressed his lips to yours greedily, caressing every inch of your newly exposed skin. You growled into his mouth as he bit your lip harder and dug your nails into his back. He reciprocated by squeezing your thigh tightly as he wrapped your leg around his waist, rubbing your most sensitive parts against each other. You both moaned in unison, pulling your lips apart for a moment. You decided to repay him and slid your fangs out to dig into his neck, drinking his sweet blood greedily. You've been dreaming about it since you became a hybrid. Only in your darkest, wildest dreams, after which you were ashamed to look into the eyes of the hated hybrid who probably drove you to Stockholm syndrome because you wanted him more every day—the man who was the cause of your misery.

It was impossible for you to love him. To love the man who tricked you into this marriage; who lied and killed and tortured so many people; who made you fall head over heels for him. Maybe that's why you fell in love with Elijah? He was his complete opposite. He was self-possessed, calm, reasonable, and kept his word.

But there you were, rubbing against him and moaning as his blood ran down your throat. Wanting him more than his brother—the man of every woman's dreams.

Maybe you were as fucked up as your husband.

Moments later, he copied your idea and dug himself into your neck. The moan coming from him sent shivers through your body all the way THERE. How could a man make you so desperate for him with just some kisses and the slightest touch?

You'd probably go all out and lose yourselves in each other's touch for the rest of the night (and possibly part of the morning) if Hope's cries hadn't come from the baby monitor on his nightstand. You broke apart, breathing heavily. Klaus licked off the rest of the blood dripping from your wound until it closed. He rested his head against your chest, inhaling your scent.

You unknowingly ran your hand through his curly hair, also closing your eyes and getting lost in this special, unique moment of tenderness between you two.

"I love you, Y/N." his soft whisper, combined with the gentle movement of his lips against the skin of your breasts, sent shivers down your spine. The realization of his confession left you completely still, holding his arms in a gentle embrace. "I know you don't feel the same way about me, but I promise you that one day you will. I will be worthy of your affection, my brave, wise, beautiful, merciful queen." he said, placing one last longing kiss on your lips before climbing off of you. He got dressed and left the room to soothe the crying Hope.

You closed your eyes, taking shaky breaths. You covered your mouth with your hand to drown out your silent sobs as you heard the familiar lullaby that Nik usually sings to Hope.

Klaus has really changed for the better since the first time you two met. And any other woman in your situation would surely fall in love with him in a heartbeat. But you've already given your heart to someone you'll never have. Or so you thought.

You felt an inexplicable attraction to Elijah, but with Klaus... everything just felt right - even though the hybrid drove you crazy and was the complete opposite of your dream prince on a white horse, in which Elijah fit perfectly. So maybe your Mr. Right wasn't someone you'd imagined in your head a long time ago…

And now, crying silently on your husband's bed, you realize what you should have done ages ago. But before you did the right thing, you could afford to pay a little attention to your troubled, lost heart.

So you cried until you got tired enough that all you did before falling asleep in Klaus' bedroom was to cover up any traces of your tears. You promised yourself a long time ago that no matter what, you would be the only witness to your tragedies. You'd rather be seen as a cold bitch than a weak, lost girl thrown into the fights the originals always fought.

Because in the end, it was only you (and Hope) against the whole world. Just like always.

~•♤♤♤•~

"I need you to do me a favor, Kol." you said as you walked into his room without knocking. The original was on the bed, flipping through something on his phone. He lazily shifted his gaze to you. You groaned internally. Bored Kol is a Kol who is very hard to work with. But—shame to admit it—he was your last and only resort.

"Hello to you too, Y/N. Thank you for knocking before storming into someone's room. How am I? I'm very glad you're asking; I'm fine. That's a very beautiful day, don't you think? Yes, indeed. Did marriage with my brother completely make you lose any manners and tact?" he teased as he drank the blood from the bag.

"I want you to compel me." he spat out his drink, choking and staining another carpet. "Rebekah will be mad at him." you thought as you watched how the original was coughing.

"What?!" he shouted, finally coming to himself. "Why?!" he asked, reaching for his half-full bag again.

"I want you to compel me to love Klaus." he spat out his drunken blood again, suffocating. He tossed the bag on the nightstand, deciding not to reach for it again in the face of new revelations. He probably thought you were completely out of your mind.

"What the bloody hell?! But I thought you and Lijah…" he began, confused, jumping out of bed to face you.

"We never gonna happen, Kol. I realized it very clearly yesterday. And I don't want to feel these stupid things around Elijah any more. He will never be mine, and I will never be his. I have Hope. I had to think about her future and happiness. And she deserves… everything. So if I can give her a happy, normal, loving family, I will do it. Even if it means falling for Klaus by your compel."

"Are you sure, darling? Do you even know what you're asking me for? Do you really want me to erase your memories of you and Elijah?"

"No. I don't want to forget. I want to remember all those stupid moments that led me to this fucking rollercoaster of emotions. I need you to convince me that... it was always meant to be Klaus. That my love for Elijah is just a fleeting fascination, and that Klaus is my fucking soulmate and partner, someone who will treat me as an equal and put me and our daughter above everything else. And that seeing him so close with Aurora and Camille made me realize that I only want to be with him."

"You know that these things aren't far from the truth, do you? My brothers love you. Both equally strong. Are you sure that…"

"Yes. I made my decision. I'm just asking you to help me sort out my emotions properly. I can't be the girl who sails between two brothers. I will not let Hope grow up in this mess my feelings have caused. My fate was sealed the day I met Klaus. Now it's time for me to finally accept it."

"I'll help you, darling. On one condition. I'm not going to keep you under my compel forever. I'll take it off someday. Are you then ready to face the consequences of your actions? Organize your feelings on your own? What if you really fall in love with Nik? What if you somehow fall in love with both of them? If Elijah finds someone else? Do you even think about what it will mean to you? You'll be living a lie, Y/N. Are you ready for it?"

"I'll do everything to give Hope the family she deserves. Besides, I'm Y/N Y/L/N-Mikaelson. I always know what to do. And for now, this is the perfect solution. I think I could be happy with Klaus after all. And after everything that happened recently... I just want to finally be happy, Kol. Without all the extra problems that being a Mikalson brings anyway."

"I only hope you're not going to regret this... Look at me, darling. Today you will feel something more than hostility or a little friendliness toward my brother Klaus. After seeing him, being a hero for your pack, and rescuing that human Camille from getting killed, you realized that you'd always had some feelings for him, but before today they were weaker than what you feel for Elijah. You realized that Klaus could be the man of your dreams, someone you want to spend the rest of your life with. You will never forget what you experienced with Elijah, but now you see him more like a brother and an uncle to your child than a life partner. You like Klaus; he's the only man you could be romantically interested in until Hope comes of age. After this time, my compulsion will cease to work. You will forget that I compel you. I told you to get that stupid idea out of your head and told you not to ask anyone else for such a favor. You will follow my command." you snapped out of your stupor, blinking as you tried to remember what the hell had just happened.

"Well, at least promise me you won't tell Klaus, Elijah, or anyone else."

"I hate to say it, but you have my word. Everything will stay between us."

"Good." you nodded your head and left his room. Kol's concerned gaze led you all the way to the door.

At least he circumvented your request and didn't force you to love Klaus directly, he just dulled your infatuation with Elijah. If you started to feel anything for his hybrid brother, it would be real. He only hoped that when Davina, Rebekah, or Nik found out, they wouldn't castrate him for it.

~•♤♤♤•~

You were pissed off. Incredible furious with your stupid husband and his older brother.

These two morons went with Kol on a solo quest against Lucien and Tristan, locking you (Freya, Davina, Rebekah and you) in the house.

You don't need to tell anyone that they came back with nothing and narrowly escaped death. As soon as the boundary spell was lifted by your witches, you ran out of the house with Hope and went straight to your pack. You left your daughter with your cousin Lily and her witch girlfriend while you went to get wood. You must have landed your rage on something. Trees were better than innocent people or your very guilty and stupid husband, whose face you didn't want to see right now because you knew you'd use it as a dartboard.

However, you forgot that your husband had no self-preservation instinct.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" you growled as you sensed his presence, continuing to chop wood. He really was asking to die today.

"You took our daughter and left the house, you think I won't follow you? Besides, we need to talk, love."

"Well, it's too fucking late now. Fuck off before I shove a branch up your ass."

"Where does such an aggression of yours come from, love?"

"You dare to fucking ask me?! After what you did?! You could all die or get caught! I know you don't care what happens to me, but have you thought about Hope? Your fucking daughter! What would happen if they came for us, for her, when we were closed in the cage, you made?! Tell me, honey, was it your brilliant idea? Or maybe Kol's?"

"It's fascinating that you have such faith in my noble elder brother that you don't even entertain the slightest possibility that it was his plan."

"Elijah wouldn't do something so stupid. He's better than you. Do you even know how it could..."

"Of course our dear Elijah would be a better husband for you!" his brain apparently focused only on that damn part, not the one where you scolded him for being so careless because you were worried about him.

"Don't you dare fucking bring him into this! He was the only goddamn person who cared about my fate after my transformation! He cares enough about me to let me know about his plans, Klaus!"

"I saw perfectly well how he cares for you - by shoving his tongue down your throat!"

"Maybe if you weren't acting like a fucking, arrogant, condescending dick who knows everything best, you'd be in his place!"

"Well, I went further with you than he did last night. You didn't even moan against his mouth as you did against mine. I guess being a dick pays off after all." he replied with a feisty, smug smile.

"You! Fucking! Disgusting! Pervent!" you growled, punching him in the chest each time, causing him to back away from you until you pinned him to a tree. "I fucking hate you. Every time I see the shadow of a man worth loving in you, you always screw it up! I hate you and despise both you and myself that despite all the damn things you've done against me, somehow I still fucking want to see in you someone worth my love!" you screamed, taking out your anger on him with every blow you landed on him.

It shocked you that he didn't do anything to stop you. He just took your punches, standing still in complete silence, until you got tired.

"Better?" he whispered, staring at your panting, disheveled figure as you both tried to calm down.

"A little."

"You tremble." he noticed, carefully touching your cold shoulder. "Let's go back to the camp. We need to warm you up." he said as he took off his leather jacket and tossed it over your shoulders. He grabbed your hand and started leading you through the dark forest.

You don't even remember when you got this far in your anger. It took you a good half silient hour of walking to get back to the sleeping pack.

You sat by the still-burning fire. Klaus added a few logs of wood to make sure it wouldn't go out. He then sat next to you and unrolled the blanket, draping it over your back, creating a warm cocoon around the two of you.

You sighed, leaning your head against his shoulder and staring into the fire. You blissfully absorbed the silence between the two of you, losing yourself in Klaus' warmth and scent.

"I'm sorry." he broke the long silence between you. "I should have let you know about my plans or not locked you in the house. You're right. You deserve someone better, love." he said, his voice slightly trembling as he spoke the last words.

"I could love you, you know?" you felt his piercing, surprised look as you played with one of the sticks, staring stubbornly at the fire to avoid his gaze. "A long time ago. If you hadn't acted like a condescending asshole and tried your best to lock me up in that damn house with Hope. If you'd let me in, help me get past that evil, cruel hybrid facade and see the real you, you would have what you so secretly desire."

"And what is that?"

"Unconditional love from someone who isn't forced to give it to you. Unlimited trust and devotion-something you have not experienced in your very long life. You know one day you'll get it from our daughter, but it won't be the same. She will love you because you are her father, her love is conditioned by the bond you have shared since she was born. That's why you want me to love you so much. You want someone who cares about you for no reason."

"And could you? Love me just because you want to? After everything I have done?" he asked, pulling you away from him, not too far away, just enough to look you in the eye.

"You were never quite the villain in my story. I have to admit, I've hated you since I met you... but over time, I've seen that you've made me more than I could have imagined, someone much more powerful, someone whose opinion really matters. You always helped me, even when I thought it was some kind of sabotage against me and when I disagreed with your plan, like when you decided to stop Dalhia alone or play partners in crime with your bloodthirsty father. You take care of my pack like it's your own, and you're such a good father to Hope that sometimes I envy her. Maybe our beginnings weren't the best, and maybe along the way we'll start arguing and fighting like bitter enemies again, but I couldn't imagine anyone else to do it with."

"Even after I forced you into this marriage?"

"Well, if it weren't for you, my parents would've arranged one with a possibly stupid, self-centered werewolf anyway, so I didn't get the worst of it."

"Good to know I'm not the worst option."

"At least you're hot and handsome." you replied, nudging him with your arm. He did the same, making you both laugh.

You stared into his eyes as the firelight reflected in his beautiful irises, emphasizing sparks of amusement and... tenderness.

"I want to be the man who deserves your love."

"Can you let me in then?"

He did not answer. Instead, he pressed his lips to yours. If it had been any other man, you would have insisted on answering this important question. But you knew Klaus too well to know that this passionate, sultry, tender kiss is a silent promise he makes to you. A promise he intends to keep.

Klaus wasn't the perfect man of your dreams, and he often made hasty, sudden decisions without considering the opinions of others. But deep down, you knew there was no other man in the world who made you feel the way you did with Nik. Even Elijah couldn't make you feel half the way you did with his brother. His kiss, his touch, his smile, and his scent made you feel insane. And that (desire, passion, tenderness, warmth, and thristing for his little affection) was the type of love you want to lose yourself in.

Maybe it was Klaus who was supposed to be your Mr. Right after all.