#on the one hand they have more reason to let you roam free if you're actively and willingly helping them

[littlest-w01f]

Horrible Person?

Rhysand x Reader

For @sjmxreaderweek

Sjmxreader 2025 Masterlist

Day 4 - Villain/Hero

Summary: Your mate killed you abusers, perhaps it would be easier to not feel guilty if your abusers weren't your parents and you mate the High Lord they deemed evil.

Cw: mentions of reader's trauma

"Am I a horrible person?" The words left your lips before you had even fully thought them, they came out of nowhere, while you were sitting on your shared bed with Rhysand as he came out of a bath, water droplets clinging to him.

His eyes snapped to yours in surprise, taken aback by your question. he rubbed the towel through his hair, drying the dampness as his usually hard gaze softened, "You are the furthest thing from a horrible person. You're too good for me in so many ways." He paused, sitting beside you, tilting your chin up, "Why do you ask, my love?"

"The male I love killed my parents..." You said, barely a whisper, they had been your abusers for as long as you could recall, yet still, a guilt gnawed at you now that Rhysand had killed them for it. "I did nothing to stop you."

Rhysand's expression turned solemn as he listened to your confession, his thumb gently stroking your jawline. "y/n, you have no reason to feel guilty. Your parents... They weren't people who deserved love or mercy. They used their power to abuse and terrorize others, including you."

He took a deep breath, his voice low and measured. "I acted to protect you, not just from their cruelty, but from the fate that awaited you if you remained under their control. You didn't need to lift a finger. All you needed was to be free."

Rhysand's hand slid down to cradle your cheek, his violet eyes searching yours. "Remember how you used to tremble with fear whenever they raised their voices? How you would curl into yourself, trying to make yourself smaller, hoping they wouldn't notice you? That wasn't living, darling."

"I know they were horrible..." You still sometimes flinched from the memory, "But they birthed me-"

Rhysand's grip on your face tightened slightly, his expression fierce with anger, not at you but at your parents. "Birthed you into hell, my love. They stole your childhood, your innocence, your right to happiness. They made you suffer, and for what? Their own twisted desires?"

He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "You don't owe them anything. You certainly don't owe them love or forgiveness. What they did to you is unforgivable, and they paid the price for it."

You nodded at his words, you knew he was right, "I know... It's just... Stupid. I'm dumb."

Rhysand's fingers curled around yours, squeezing gently. "Never say that, y/n. You are one of the strongest, most resilient people I've ever known. Surviving what you did, let alone thriving after, takes an incredible amount of courage and determination."

He tilted your hand, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles. "Your mind is sharp as a blade, quick to grasp new ideas and clever enough to navigate the treacherous politics of the Hewn City. And your heart… It's full of compassion, empathy, and a capacity for love that I admire deeply."

Leaning back, Rhysand studied you intently, his gaze roaming over your face as if committing every detail to memory. "Don't belittle yourself, my love."

"I guess it just feels weird that they're just... Gone." You rest your head on his bicep, sighing, "So many years of... Living under their rule. Of fearing even breathing wrong. And now they're just gone."

"I'm sorry I took that choice from you. I should have let you make the decision yourself. I was just so upset when I found out." Rhysand wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer against his side as you rested your head on his bicep. His other hand absently played with a strand of your hair, the gentle touch a soothing balm for your frayed nerves. "But I am upset you kept what they did from me... More mad that you protected them, they didn't deserve your protection."

"I know they didn't... but... I guess I had myself convinced they were different than what they actually were... They begged me to stop you. I didn't want to. I'm... I'm horrible." You whispered, shaking your head and the memory of them, how they had fallen to your feet seeing the dark look Rhysand gave them, held your legs begging to be saved when Rhysand pulled you free of them. "I... Like that they're gone."

Rhysand's body tensed beneath you at your admission, his fingers ceasing their gentle play with your hair. For a moment, he was silent, processing your words. Then, slowly, he exhaled, the tension leaving him.

"You're not horrible, y/n," he said finally, his voice firm but gentle. "You did what you thought was best at the time, even if it was misguided. Protecting them, even in your own mind, shows there was still some part of you that clung to hope, to the idea that maybe, just maybe, they could change."

He stroked your hair again, more firmly this time, as if trying to anchor you to the present. "They didn't deserve your protection, but they did deserve justice."

"How do you do it?" You asked as he pulled you into his lap, holding you tight, wings creating a warm cocoon, "Hurt the horrible folk."

"The same way I did what I did tonight, because people like that...?" His eyes darkened, the memory of your parents' dead bodies flashing through his mind. "People like that deserve it. And the fact that you feel guilt and I don't is a very present reason on why between us, I'm the horrible one."

As Rhysand held you close, his words echoed in your mind, each syllable a heavy stone weighing upon your conscience. You knew he spoke the truth - the cruel men who had tormented you for so long had met a fitting end at his hands. Yet, the knowledge that he felt no remorse only served to deepen your sense of unease.

In his embrace, you felt the heat of his body, the steady thrum of his heartbeat, and the comforting solidity of his arms around you. But beneath the warmth, a chill crept through your veins, born of the darkness lurking within Rhysand's soul. A darkness that allowed him to kill without hesitation, to extinguish lives with the same ease he might snuff out a candle flame. And yet, you didn't feel fear, all you knew was he saved you from the very people that hurt you and called him the devil incarnate.

Despite Rhysand's brutal methods, despite the evil he embodied, you never once feared him. In fact, you loved him with a ferocity unlike any other. Because, unlike those monsters who had abused and degraded you, Rhysand had saved you. He had freed you from their clutches and given you a life worth living.

As you sat in his lap, surrounded by the warmth of his body and the comfort of his embrace, you understood that your feelings for him were complicated, tangled up in gratitude, desire, and a strange sort of acceptance. You knew that Rhysand was capable of terrible things, but you also knew that he was capable of great love and loyalty. And in the end, that was all that mattered to you.

"Thank you for being here with me, Rhysie..." You sighed in his hold. "For freeing me from them. Thank you for saving me."

Rhysand's arms tightened around you, his lips brushing against the top of your head as he whispered, "Always, my love. I'd move the stars themselves to keep you safe." His words were a vow, a promise etched in the fabric of the universe.

As you nestled deeper into his embrace, feeling the powerful beat of his heart, you knew that you were exactly where you belonged. With Rhysand, the High Lord of the Night Court, the male who had shattered the chains of your past and given you a future filled with possibility.

In his arms, you felt a sense of peace wash over you, a calm that settled like a blanket of silk over your troubled thoughts. Here, with Rhysand, you were home. You were free. And that was all that mattered.

Rhysand held you close, savoring the feeling of your curves pressed against his body. He breathed in the sweet scent of your hair, letting it soothe his savage heart. Your words, laced with gratitude and affection, warmed him to his core, chasing away the shadows that often haunted him.

With a gentle tilt of your chin, he captured your lips in a tender kiss, pouring all his devotion and adoration into the soft press of his mouth against yours. When he finally broke the contact, his eyes shone with a depth of emotion that rarely surfaced - vulnerability mixed with unyielding love.

"My beautiful, brave y/n," he murmured, his voice thick with feeling. "You are the light that illuminates my darkness, the melody that soothes my soul. Without you, I am lost, adrift in a sea of chaos and despair."

Rhysand smiled softly, sensing your desire to shift the atmosphere. "Come, let's take our minds off the weight of the night," he suggested, standing fluidly with you in his arms. He carried you effortlessly across the room.

In the corner, now stood a small, ornate table stood laden with an assortment of delicacies - shimmering sweets, delicate pastries, and goblets of chilled wine. Rhysand set you down gently, his hands lingering on your hips before releasing you. "Some sweets might do the trick, don't you think?"

You couldn't help but smile at Rhysand's suggestion, his attempt to lighten the mood succeeding beautifully. The sight of the delectable spread before you only added to your growing excitement. Your stomach rumbled in anticipation as you approached the table, running your fingertips over the glistening confections.

"Oh, these look divine!" you exclaimed, selecting a sugar-glazed fruit tart and taking a bite. The explosion of flavors on your tongue was heavenly, the sweetness tempered perfectly by a hint of tanginess. You closed your eyes in bliss, savoring the taste.

"Mmm, Rhysie, this is exquisite," You praised, reaching for another pastry. As you indulged in the feast, the weight of the night began to fade, replaced by a sense of contentment and joy. Under the spell of the wine, the delectable treats, and Rhysand's charming company, you felt your worries and cares melting away, leaving behind a tranquil serenity.

As the evening wore on, the intoxicating blend of wine, sweets, and Rhysand's captivating presence enveloped you in a state of euphoric tranquility. Laughter flowed freely, mingling with the soft clinking of glasses and the occasional musical trill of a bird outside the window. Time seemed to slow, stretching out into an endless expanse of pure bliss.

Rhysand watched you with a fond smile, his eyes sparkling with delight at your carefree demeanor. He reached across the table, his fingers brushing lightly against yours as he refilled your glass with the ruby liquid. The touch sent a pleasant shiver down your spine, igniting a warmth that pooled low in your belly. You were free.

Free to revel in the simple pleasures of the moment, to lose yourself in the enchanting atmosphere Rhysand had created. The world beyond the walls of his chambers receded, becoming irrelevant as you focused solely on the man before you, the love that bound you together, and the joy that filled your heart.

As the night deepened, the wine's effects intensified, casting a rosy glow over everything. Conversations grew more intimate, laughter more frequent, and glances more meaningful. The air hummed with an electric energy, charged with the promise of passion and desire. You couldn't remember the last time you'd laugh like this, had so much fun.

Rhysand may have been called evil at every corner of your old house, but he was anything but. He was your love, your saviour, your protector.

{General taglist- @lilah-asteria @paleidiot @dee-writes-angst @adalia-jaycee @anarchiii @alwayshave-faith @velarisnightsky444 @minnieoo @mellowmusings @daughterofthemoons-stuff @tele86 @thelov3lybookworm @romanticatheartt @inkedinshadows}

{Week Taglist - @readinf @thorins-queen-of-erebor}

[slayerdurge]

wow so at the end of act 2 mage hawke is caught doing magic by knight-commander meredith stannard and in act 3 the templars (including meredith) actually just go "all mages think they're the exception to needing the circle but none of them actually are! except hawke. she actually is." and you can walk right up to knight-captain cullen rutherford and he'll tell you you're the only apostate he'd allow to do that. and sebastian and fenris have a conversation about whether they should turn merrill and anders in to the templars, but won't even slightly consider actually acting without hawke's permission. 😂 marian hawke, you really are the maker's favorite mage.

[teaboot]

I've never had a cat before and I'm hoping to get one soon. Do you have any advice?

Treat a new cat as you would a new roommate. Give them space and time to settle, establish a pattern and a rhythm, and in time they may choose to become friends and spend time with you. Dont force a friendship.

Use simple words and repetition to establish communication. Words like breakfast, treat, snack, lunch, supper, dinner, food, and eat all basically mean, "I am feeding you; expect to be fed", but it's a lot for a little guy to remember. I just say "Dinner" when I mean "cat food is coming", and so my boy knows exactly what I mean when I say it. As a plus, using only one word for snack time means he has no idea what the other words mean, so I can talk about food in front of him without ruling him up.

Pay attention to body language. Cats all have different personalities, and you'll learn their likes, dislikes, and messages over time this way. Son boy here loves anything with plumbing but dislikes getting wet- his favourite blanket to chew and snuggle goes on his favourite chair, and he gives me a specific gesture when he wants me to kneel down so he can jump onto my shoulder.

Read into problematic behaviour. Cats pee in weird places when they're hurting, in distress, or have insufficient of unclean litter box space. Biting, attacking feet , and knocking things off tables often means they're understimulated and need you to play with them, or at least need some kind of enrichment or puzzle to tackle. Tail flicking can be frustration or irritation. Purring is usually good, but may also be self-soothing behaviour to alleviate pain, encourage healing, and relieve anxiety, like over-grooming.

Like children, "bad" behaviour isn't malicious- it usually means there's something you aren't seeing.

Learn how your cat expresses love. Loads of people think cats are uncaring, cruel, and indifferent, but the truth is, they're just not dogs. Spending time near you, showing an interest in tools you're using or projects you're working on, sitting the way you sit, laying on their back, rubbing on your legs, wiping their face on your shoes when you get home- these are signs that your cat is enamored with you. You're their family, they feel safe and protected around you, they're curious about things you enjoy and want everyone to know you're family.

Set reasonable expectations. Again, cats are not dogs.We bred dogs to desire our approval- cats walked into our lives themselves. They have no human-programmed need to fulfill a duty or perform a task to your standards.

Training cats to do tricks isn't as hard as people say, but the willingness or interest in doing the trick is more heavily reliant on personality and mood. Some cats will refuse all but the most basic requests- I'm lucky in that Ollie understands and is willing to do several, provided I don't abuse his trust and he's not crowded or overwhelmed or just bored of doing it over and over in a short period.

Ollie, for example, knows Up to stand on his back legs and hold my hand, Down to get to a surface I indicate, Out to emerge from a closed space, Come to find me where I am, Help? when I'm offering to let him use me as an elevator, Dinner when I understand he's hungry and am getting food, and when I put on his collar he knows to climb into his carrier 'cause we're going somewhere. And he'll do any of these about 90% of the time, either ignoring me or phoning it in when there's something interesting somewhere else, or if he's feeling anxious.

Lead by example. If you dread taking them to the vet, they'll see the anxiety in your body language and behaviour and likely learn to hate it, too. Again using my guy an example, I starred taking him on walks long before his first vet appointment, just to get used to his carrier and leash. Then his first checkup was relaxed and informal, with plenty of treats, and I let him explore the examination room with permission from the tech. Now he loves going, so I'm not stressed about taking him, so I don't stress him out in turn, and the vest doesn't have to deal with a stressed out cat slowing things down and fighting with them.

Make sure your sources are good ones, and also good ones for you. I will recommend Jackson Galaxy's YouTube channel for cat advice because a lot of what he does matches up with what I've learned and know to be true. I don't personally recommend Ceasar Milan because I personally find his methods distressing to recreate regardless of efficacy, so even if that advice was useful, *I'd* be miserable, and it'd just be trading one issue for another.

Have a person who can help. You never know when you might end up out of town overnight unexpectedly, or when your place may need serviced or fumigated, or if you may be called out of town. Before getting a cat, research reliable pet sitters, house sitters, pet daycares, whatever, just in case.

Consider pet insurance. No long spiel here, just think about it. Especially if you don't know your cats ancestry or potenyial health risks. An on top of that, fucking vaccinate them.

Dont let them free roam. At all.

I grew up on a farm with free-roaming barn cats. Do you know how many times child-me cried over having to bury them? Illness, disease, pregnancy, vehicles, other territorial cats, ticks, fleas, litter, poisoned prey, malicious humans, local wildlife, predatory birds, scrap metal, extreme heat, freezing temperatures, tainted water sources, poisonous or venomous critters, getting stuck in small or high places, tapeworms, loose nails, old equipment, falling branches...

I've seen some truly body-horror slasher-movie shit- just truly nauseating visual fuckery- and I'm telling you not to let your cat free-roam.

Leash training isn't hard. Supervised walks aren't hard. Even keeping your cat physically fit and entertained indoors isn't an impossible feat. Don't let your fucking cat fucking free-roam. Fuck

Also read up on foods and plants cats can't do, like every houseplant in existence is toxic it's insane

Anyhow yeah that's like. A couple things I guess

Here, have an Ollie Pic

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

. ۫ ꣑ৎ. PERSONAL P★RN STAR

𑁍ࠬܓ Paring : worshipful husband sylus x chubby wife fem!reader

𑁍ࠬܓ warnings : nsfw/smut, body worship, vaginal, p*ssy eating, nipple sucking, multiple of rounds, squirting all over sylus’s face, pet-names, cow-girl, kissing, teasing, & aftercare & fluff. :3

𑁍ࠬܓ summary : you and sylus have been married for two years and a half, though the both of you never had s*x with each-other before since you would always refuse him. The only reason was it was because of how your body looks, but this time you decide to give in because it was sylus’s and your anniversary.

𑁍ࠬܓ note : sorry if this was really short i’m not a sylus girlie! ^_^ Also not proof read sorry! dunno if this is ooc & special fic for @jadestone2 , she got me to working on this fic! I don’t really see much of gentle or caring sylus fics here so I decided to make one!

“Honey?” You called out loud, as you entered the master bedroom.

"Hmm, my dear wife," Sylus murmured, his voice carrying a sly edge as he stepped closer behind you, his eyes roaming appreciatively over the slender curves of your figure. He reached out to caress your cheek, his touch lingering. "You're being shy tonight, (name)." He chuckled, his gaze dropping to take in your small frame, draped in the elegant evening gown that highlighted your modest bust and fat waist.

"Our anniversary deserves something special, don't you think?" Sylus leaned in closer, his breath ghosting across your ear as he whispered, "Let me make you feel like the queen you deserve to be." His skilled hand began to trail a path down your neck, sending a shiver through you as he continued, "Your beauty has only grown more radiant with the passing years, and I find myself utterly beguiled by the treasure that is you, my lovely one."

Despite the playful flirtation, there was an undeniable thread of sincerity in his words, a deep affection for you that he expressed rarely but fiercely. His hand settled at the small of your back, urging you closer, his other brushing against your stomach with a subtle emphasis, hinting at the desires that lay beneath the surface of his charismatic demeanor.

You looked up at him with a confused face. “J-Just turn off the lights…” you said quietly. You didn’t like how your body looked, and it made you feel weird. That’s why you wanted him to turn off the lights so he wouldn’t see it.

“Turning off the lights, my dear? How... coy,” Sylus murmured, a wry smile playing on his lips. Despite your apprehension, he made no move to comply with your request, instead choosing to instead spin you around to face him directly. His tall frame loomed imposingly, accentuating the contrast between his rugged masculine form and your curvier figure.

He reached up to cup your cheek tenderly, his red eyes glinting with an intensity that left you breathless. “But very appealing, nonetheless,” he whispered, his voice huskier than before as his free hand ventured a little farther downward, grazing the upper swell of your breasts before lingering at the waistband of your dress. “Your body is perfection, (name) - it's a treasure I've never grown tired of.” Sylus bent his head, nuzzling his nose against yours in a tender gesture that belied his earlier boldness.

“Please, let me see you,” he breached softly, his warm exhale sending delicious shivers down your spine. “Let go of your insecurities and embrace the beauty that I perceive.”

His words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, yet doubt still tugged at the edges of your mind. “But Sylus…” you started, feeling the weight of your insecurities push against your resolve. You could feel the heat of his gaze on you, a mixture of desire and adoration that left you feeling exposed yet achingly desired.

“Let me show you,” he insisted, his voice a soft growl that sent a thrill through you. “You’ve always been my goddess, (name). I want you to feel that tonight.” With that, he expertly undid the clasp of your gown, letting the fabric cascade down your shoulders like a waterfall of silk.

You held your breath, the soft whisper of the fabric hitting the floor echoing in the charged air. Sylus’s eyes darkened as he took in your form, his expression a mixture of awe and something primal. “See? Even in the dim light, you shine brighter than any star.”

He stepped back slightly, his gaze roving over you as if etching every curve into his memory. “You are more beautiful than you realize,” he murmured, his voice laced with a reverent tone. “Your softness, your shape… it's all a part of what makes you uniquely you. I’m utterly captivated.”

His hands moved again, this time brushing against your waist, fingers splayed wide as if to frame you. “Can you feel it? The power you hold? You’ve always been my muse, and I intend to worship you tonight.”

With a sudden, fluid motion, he pulled you closer, pressing his body against yours, his warmth enveloping you. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the steady thump of his heart mirroring your own as he leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss—slow and deliberate, as though he was savoring every moment.

The kiss deepened, a spark igniting as his hands explored, fingers trailing over your curves, memorizing every dip and swell. Your insecurities began to melt away under his touch, his reverence slowly washing over you, filling the gaps where doubt had once thrived.

“Please, let me adore you,” he whispered against your lips, his breath hot and heavy. “Let me show you how beautiful you truly are.”

His lips danced along your jaw, trailing soft kisses as he whispered sweet nothings that ignited a fire deep within you. “You’re so perfect for me, (name),” he breathed, each word punctuated by the gentle press of his mouth against your skin. “I want to worship every inch of you.”

With a deftness that spoke to his confidence, he sank to his knees before you, his eyes never leaving yours. The way he gazed at you, filled with desire and reverence, made your heart race. “Let me show you what I see,” he implored, his fingers trailing along your thighs, brushing against the soft skin as he leaned in closer.

As his lips found the curve of your hip, a shiver raced through you, the warmth of his mouth igniting a thrilling sensation that coursed through your body. “You deserve this,” he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and teasing. “You deserve to feel cherished.”

You felt a wave of vulnerability crash over you as he pressed gentle kisses along your inner thighs, inching closer to where you craved his touch the most. Your hands tangled in his silver hair, urging him closer as your breath quickened. “Sylus…” you gasped, a mix of desire and nervousness swirling inside you.

“Trust me, my love,” he whispered, the intensity of his gaze locking onto yours. “I’ll take care of you.” And with that, his mouth found you, his tongue exploring with a skill that made your head spin. His tongue teasingly swirling around your clit, as he plays with your folds of your pussy. Pleasure shot through you, overwhelming your senses as he lavished attention on you, each flick and swirl sending you closer to the edge.

“Just like that,” you encouraged, your voice barely a whisper, and he responded with a low growl of approval, as if your pleasure only fueled his desire.

As the sensations built within you, the world around you faded away, leaving only Sylus and the intoxicating rhythm of his worship. You could feel yourself teetering on the precipice, the bliss of the moment threatening to sweep you away.

He pulled back for just a moment, his eyes shimmering with pride. “I want to see you fall apart for me, (name),” he urged, his voice thick with desire. “Let go, love. Let me witness your ecstasy.”

With his encouragement, you surrendered to the waves of pleasure crashing over you, the culmination of your emotions and desires intertwining into a blissful release. As you came undone, you felt the warmth of his smile against you, his face a picture of satisfaction.

“Beautiful,” he breathed, his voice filled with awe as he savored the moment. “You’re absolutely beautiful.”

As the pleasure coursed through you, Sylus rose to his feet, his eyes ablaze with intensity. “You are breathtaking,” he breathed, a predatory edge to his voice that sent a thrill down your spine. “The way you surrender to me, it drives me wild.”

His hands grasped your waist firmly, guiding you back against him as he captured your lips in a heated kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of desire and warmth that made your heart race. You could feel the hard length of his cock pressing against you, the sensation igniting a familiar yearning deep within. It was a reminder of the connection you both shared—a bond that transcended the physical, rooted in admiration and a shared passion.

“Are you ready for me, my love?” he murmured, the words thick with desire, his voice low and gravelly. The way he looked at you, with that fierce devotion in his red eyes, made you feel both cherished and desired in equal measure.

“Yes, Sylus,” you breathed, your heart pounding in anticipation. “I want you.”

“Good girl,” he growled, his grip tightening as he positioned you, guiding you to straddle him. The heat radiating from him was undeniable, your bodies fitting together as if made for one another. You could feel his cock pressing against your core, the heat of it sending delicious shivers through you.

“Take your time,” he encouraged, his voice smooth yet commanding. “Show me how you want it.”

With a deep breath, you sank down onto him, a moan escaping your lips as he filled you completely. The initial stretch made you gasp, but the pleasure quickly overwhelmed any lingering doubt. He was perfect—every inch of him made you feel alive, and the feeling of him inside you sent waves of desire crashing over you.

Sylus watched you intently, his gaze unwavering as you began to move. The rhythm started slow, each roll of your hips igniting a fire deep within. You could feel him pulse inside you, the sensation heightening as you embraced the moment. “You’re doing so well, my goddess,” he praised, his voice thick with lust. “I want to see you lose yourself.”

Encouraged by his words, you quickened your pace, feeling the tension building with each thrust. His hands roamed your body, fingers brushing against your breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples. The way he worshiped you made your heart race, every touch a reminder of how much he adored you.

“That’s it,” he urged, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Feel every inch of me, (name). You’re driving me insane.” The passion in his voice ignited a fire within you, and you felt your body responding to his every command.

As you moved, the sensation of his cock filling you sent jolts of pleasure through your body, and the friction against your clit was almost overwhelming. “Sylus…” you gasped, the need building inside you, a desperate hunger that demanded release.

“Let go, my love,” he coaxed, his voice dripping with authority. “Let me see you come undone for me.” His words sent you spiraling, pushing you closer to the edge as your pleasure built to an unbearable peak.

“I’m so close,” you managed to gasp, the heat pooling low in your belly. “Don’t stop!”

With renewed fervor, he thrust up into you, the sound of skin against skin echoing in the dimly lit room. “Yes, (name), just like that. You’re perfect,” he growled, his grip tightening as he guided you deeper onto his cock, each thrust hitting that sweet spot inside you.

Finally, with a shuddering gasp, the wave of pleasure crashed over you. Your body tensed, and you cried out as you surrendered to ecstasy, the world around you blurring into bliss. You felt your body tighten around him as you came, pleasure washing over you in waves.

Sylus followed you into the abyss, his own release spilling forth as he groaned your name, the primal sound resonating through you. “God, you feel incredible,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin as you both came down from the high together.

As the last tremors of pleasure faded, Sylus pulled you close, his fingers tangling in your hair. “You are my everything, (name),” he whispered, his voice tender and low. “And I will always cherish you.”

The two of you lingered in the aftermath of your shared bliss, breaths mingling as you both basked in the glow of what had just transpired. But as Sylus pulled you closer, his playful grin returned, revealing that he was far from finished.

“You think that’s all I want from you tonight?” he teased, his eyes glinting with mischief as he tightened his grip on your waist. “You’re just getting started, my dear.”

Before you could respond, he shifted his weight, rolling you onto your back and hovering over you, his presence both commanding and electrifying. “I want to worship every inch of you,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “Let me show you just how beautiful you are, (name).”

With that, he began his descent, planting soft kisses down your body, each one igniting a spark of anticipation. His lips traveled from your collarbone, trailing down to the curve of your breasts, where he paused to take one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it and teasing you gently. You arched your back, a soft moan escaping your lips as he lavished attention on you, each flick and tug sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body.

“Do you see how perfect you are?” he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your skin. “Every part of you drives me wild.” He continued down your stomach, his lips trailing lower until he reached the waistband of your dress, pulling it down just enough to expose your thighs. He admired the way your body filled out the curves, his gaze filled with raw desire.

“Let me taste you,” he breathed, a primal hunger evident in his voice. He lowered himself, kissing the insides of your thighs, each touch igniting a new fire within you. As he drew closer to your core, your anticipation grew, the ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable.

With one final glance up at you, he pressed his mouth against your pussy, his tongue flicking out to tease your sensitive clit. A gasp tore from your throat as he began to work his magic, the sensations overwhelming as he licked and sucked, each movement designed to bring you to the edge once more.

“G—God, Sylus!” you cried, your fingers tangling in his silver hair, urging him closer as he continued his expert ministrations. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the pleasure that enveloped you.

“Just like that,” he encouraged, his voice muffled against you. “Let go for me.”

With his every lick and kiss, you felt the tension build once again, your body responding eagerly to his every command. You could feel that familiar coil tightening, and you knew you were close. “I’m going to—”

“Let it out, (name). I want to taste you,” he urged, his voice dripping with desire, and that was all it took.

With a cry of ecstasy, you came, the wave of pleasure crashing over you, sending you spiraling into bliss. You felt your body tremble as you released, your climax washing over you like a tide, coating his mouth as he drank you in.

As you came down from your high, Sylus shifted back up, his eyes dark with lust and satisfaction. “You taste divine,” he growled, his lips glistening with you as he captured your mouth in a searing kiss, sharing your essence with you.

“Now,” he said, his voice low and sultry, “it’s my turn to feel you wrapped around me again.” He repositioned you, lifting your hips slightly as he positioned himself at your entrance, his cock brushing against your sensitive folds.

“Are you ready for round two?” he asked, his tone teasing yet serious, the heat in his gaze promising more than just physical connection.

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly, anticipation coursing through your veins. “I want you, Sylus.”

With a powerful thrust, he filled you once more, both of you gasping at the intensity of the sensation. Sylus took his time, letting you adjust to him, his gaze fixed on yours as he began to move. The rhythm built slowly, each thrust sending pleasure coursing through you, igniting a fire that felt even more intense than before.

“Tell me how it feels,” he commanded, his voice a mixture of dominance and warmth as he drove into you, the sound of skin slapping echoing in the room.

“So good,” you managed to gasp, lost in the sensation. “You feel incredible.”

“Good,” he grunted, picking up the pace, the heat between you building once again. “I want you to feel every inch of me, to know just how much I crave you.”

As he thrust deeper, hitting all the right spots, you felt the tension coiling within you again, a sweet build-up of pleasure that threatened to consume you both. “Sylus… I’m so close again,” you gasped, your body responding eagerly to his every thrust.

“Come for me, (name). Let go and show me just how much you want this,” he urged, his voice thick with desire.

With a cry of his name, you let the wave of pleasure wash over you, a euphoric release that sent you spiraling once again into bliss. Sylus followed you into ecstasy, his body tensing as he filled you with warmth, his moans mingling with your cries of pleasure.

As the last echoes of pleasure faded, you collapsed against him, breathless and exhilarated. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you intertwined, bodies glistening with the remnants of your shared passion.

After the intoxicating high of your shared passion, you both lay entwined in the aftermath, your bodies still tingling from the intensity of your connection. Sylus brushed a few strands of hair from your face, his fingers gentle and tender as he looked down at you with an expression that was equal parts satisfaction and adoration. “You were amazing, my love,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “I hope you know just how beautiful you truly are.” His gaze held a warmth that melted away any lingering insecurities, wrapping you in a cocoon of affection that felt like home.

He reached for the blankets, pulling them over both of you as he nestled closer, his body heat enveloping you. You could feel the rhythm of his heart against yours, a steady reminder of the bond you shared. “Let’s stay like this for a while,” he suggested, his voice low and soothing. “I want to hold you and remind you just how cherished you are.” You snuggled against him, your heart swelling with warmth as he traced gentle patterns on your skin, whispering sweet nothings that made you smile. In that moment, everything felt perfect, and you knew that no matter what insecurities lingered, you were deeply loved by the man who adored every part of you.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[hotheadedhero]

*peeks in here*

*walks away to check if you do bayverse*

*return*

The bay bois getting an s/o who will occasionally will randomly be cuddling and then... *Affectionate bite* then letting go and telling them they love them.

AN: As an affectionate biter myself, I gotcha babes ;)

Affectionate Biting

Bay Turtles x Reader

Warnings: very mildly suggestive, an insomniac trying to grammar <3

Leonardo

The first time you oh-so casually bit him and smiled afterwards as if it was nothing had him going for a spin. Confused is the prominent word to describe how he was feeling at the time. The action was just so unprompted. He couldn't figure out why you felt the need to do something like that, nor how it could be seen as an act of love.

He's learnt over time that it's an unavoidable urge for you. There's nothing you can do about it. You just have to bite him for whatever reason you deem necessary. Leo is all too aware of this by now and may or may not use it to his advantage.

"For every hour we're out tonight, I'll give you a free bite. No questions asked, okay?"

These are terms you can comply with. He knows how much you miss him when he's gone, so setting up this ultimatum is an effective way of letting him go on patrol more easily.

Raphael

Being with you has involved its fair share of revelations and discoveries. There's at least a handful of things he's become savvy to whilst being with you but the random biting is one of the more bizarre ones.

Actions speak louder than words and they always mean the most to him but biting? What's up with that? Humans are weird. That's the conclusion he's come to. Even now in this very moment, you've taken a hold of his wrist whilst curled up in bed together.

"What are you, a cat or something? Quit it."

Of course, he's only joking. It's just so he can see your tongue poke out and your nose scrunch up in the cute way he likes. Even if he did seriously mean for you to stop, he doubts you would. You live by your own rules when it comes to these things. And, sure, you can bite him if you like. Just as long as you expect to get bitten back.

Donatello

It may catch him by surprise from time to time but only because you do it in the most random of situations. Whilst he's working away and you're sitting in his lap, you'll just latch onto the closest part of him you can access. He might jump if he's in the zone but it's never an issue.

Regardless of it being a problem or not, you've had your own curiosities about why you have such a primal impulse to chomp down on your boyfriend. Luckily, Donnie being as knowledgeable as ever has the answers.

"... the desire to pseudo-bite or squeeze anything we find extremely cute is actually a neurochemical reaction. 'Cute aggression' isn't motivated by vicious intent. Instead, scientists think-"

He halts on his words, blinks out of his matter-of-fact mode, and gazes down at you. All the while, you have his forearm locked between your teeth. Your attempt to smile coyly against his skin is adorable, and he smiles back before continuing his explanation.

Michelangelo

He won't ask any questions. In all honesty, he loves it. Although, there might have been a bit of a misunderstanding the first couple of times you went to take a nip at him. Let's just say he thought you were trying to get him in the mood. Can't blame a guy for assuming his lover is a little freaky in the sheets.

Having such a strong force overcome you is something he understands, though. It's like him when it comes to pulling a fast one over his brothers. You can bite him whenever you want to if that's what you feel you need to do. Even if you turned into a zombie, he'd still let you.

"And then we could be like, zombie lovers roaming the streets together."

Mikey holds his arms out, hands dangling as he playfully groans like the undead. You aren't entirely sure how the conversation developed like that but it's cute nonetheless. Hey, he's just being honest. He loves you that much.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I’m obsessed with the way you write König and blind!reader

Will we be seeing anymore of them?

Suddenly, every building in your living area became accessible. Braille on every elevator, way too many voice links for every crosswalk, and hiccups on the road. Konig somehow managed to make more for the accessibility of your city than the governor could - and it was all because he wanted to take a piece out of you. Maybe put some of his pieces in. Fuck you like the pretty little lady you are, still considering you way too helpless for your own good. Even if, for some weird, unexplainable reason, he didn't kidnap you yet, he still acts like you're already married. His bodyguards are on your tail every time you go out of your apartment - or his house. He was nice enough at first, allowing you to think that no one was watching over your shoulder, but he lost patience after the first time someone bumped into you, ignoring the way you tried to get out of their path and used Cain to frantically search for a better path. The guy was a complete asshole, making you fall to the ground in a fashion similar to your first meeting with Konig - the only difference is that the poor guy was shot immediately after Konig's men made sure you were okay and hauled you back to the base. Back to Konig's lap - and the only place where you would allowed outside of the bedroom in the few closest months. Honestly, you were trying, desperately, to gain some form of independence again, but Konig only lets you out for a short garden trip, and only when you can hold his hand, as if your life depends on it. You'd push your face down in his chest, trying to get him to cave in and let you roam freely - but of course, he is too fucking possessive to let someone else have you. Even his servants are overstepping his boundaries while looking at you for too long, and he will gladly chain you to his bed if only it wouldn't make you this miserable. You deserve something better than this, honestly, and he wants you to have a good time with him. Somehow. Konig shows you to his house - chooses the best one so you can live with him, triples the security, and helps you memorize each room. Holds your hand as you touch the walls and furniture, memorizing every turn and step, carefully following him. He makes every room perfect for you - more than you could say every one of your past relationships did. It's almost embarrassing, how easily he could win you over. How much you caved in. Still, you're locked in his mansion, with his undying attention every free second he had.

[devotedlyandrogynousyouth]

AkrhamKnight! Jason Todd

Sensitive Topics: descriptions of a toxic relationship and mentions of physical abuse (none actually written)

AK! Jason Todd who you're not even sure what you have with. Every time you try to refer to him as your boyfriend or yourselves as together like you did before his death, he pulls away and gets defensive.

"There isn't an 'us,' sweetheart. I ain't letting shit from before that fucking clown got to me matter now."

But if you try to walk away from the situation or start talking to somebody else, he gets so incredibly jealous.

"Oh so you really need two guys' attention now? What a fucking whore..."

AK! Jason Todd who, if you couldn't tell by now, is so incredibly toxic in whatever situation you have. He cant stand to see you walk away but it kills you inside every time you come back to him and his baggage.

"Come one, sweetheart... It was just a mistake. We all make 'em, right? Don't you go leaving me over some petty shit like that."

AK! Jason Todd who absolutely loathes you going out at night. Even when he's there with you, it still puts him on edge to see you walking the cold, dark Gotham sidewalks when you could be safe in his apartment or the base instead.

AK! Jason Todd who just gets so mean with you for no reason. Well, not for little things like forgetting to pick up plastic wrap at the store or something. More like walking alone in Gotham without him knowing you were even gone. He hates the thought of something happening to his precious little thing.

AK! Jason Todd who would never physically harm you. Are insults thrown around like confetti? Absolutely! Is there a scream fight almost every week? You bet! But has he ever raised a finger against you? No. And he would never even think of it.

AK! Jason Todd who's absolutely pissed whenever somebody even looks at you for too long, nevermind making comments. You'd be surprised just how many of his soldiers he's gotten rid of just for telling him to "put his bitch in her place," or for telling you to "cover up, slut."

AK! Jason Todd who can't open up. He knows what he's doing is horrible. He knows that everything he does affects you in one way or another. But what about the horrible things other people have done? What about what the Joker did to him? What about Bruce letting the Joker roam free afterwards and replacing him with another goody two shoes? Jason wants to talk to you, he really does. But he just doesn't see how you or anybody, for that matter, coyld ever understand him or what he's been through.

AK! Jason Todd who found himself crying in the dark shadows of your shared apartment when Bruce first came along to stop his ridiculous plan to take over Gotham with Scarecrow's fear toxin. Jason loved Bruce. Bruce was his only family. But family means that nobody gets left behind and Bruce sure as hell broke that rule.

(This is actually kinda cannon: in Akrham Knight, one of the conversations you can overhear between a few of the gaurds mentions Jason crying after encountering Bruce for one of the first times)

AK! Jason Todd who truly does love you, in some way. He doesn't think he can be in love with you, but that doesnt makw him care about you any less. You're his person, and you've been there for him whether he likes it or not.

AK! Jason Todd who would absolutely lose it if anything were to ever happen to you. He never wants to see even a hair on your damn head hurt if he can help it. If one of his guards were to be responsible for an injury you sustained, they'd be out the door and probably six feet under in a heartbeat.

AK! Jason Todd who, no matter what your situation or relationship is like, refuses to let you see his chest. Yeah, his entire body is covered in scars, both from the Joker and other things he's experienced. But the 'Y' shaped scar on his chest is strictly off limits. If you were to ever accidentally brush your hand across it while laying with him or something, he wouldn't lash out, but he'd certainly guide your hand away by gently grasping your wrist.

AK! Jason Todd who never wants to see you involved with anything he does or his plans. He thinks that his activities are far too dangerous for you, even if you do happen to be somebody who's capeable of holding your own in combat or other high-stress situations.

Masterlist

[itsshawtyysworld]

The good ol' days

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho x fem!reader

Warning: 18+ (mature content such as oral, overstimulation, pet names, yearning, post squid games era)

Synopsis: Dae-ho can't get enough of your taste.

"Please, baby... just a little more."

Those were his words; the same words he had repeated just a little over an hour ago when he begged you to let him eat you out.

You were simply in your shared room and in your own little world as you laid on your belly on the bed naked after a shower. The day was bright, the sun high in the blue sky and your window was open, a warm and comforting breeze filling the air as you got even more engrossed into a new book you had recently gotten, a romantic novel, and recently you spent most of your free time reading it, too excited to read it right after you bought it.

You were so deep into the story, your eyes following each one of the words on the slightly beige page, you barely heard Dae-ho's footsteps and voice when he came back home but you sooner felt his presence behind you, causing you to place a marker on the page you were reading so that you wouldn't forget it before turning to him with a content smile.

"Hi, beautiful." Dae-ho's soft voice fills your ears as he greets you with a few pecks all over your face and neck. "Hello there. How was your run?" You ask him as you notice his slightly sweaty and disheveled appearance.

"It was good. Ran a few meters more than I did a couple days ago. What are you up to, reading again?" He pecks your lips twice more before glancing at the book that was now laid beside you.

"Yeah... I'm honestly loving this book, I think it's my new favorite-" You get interrupted by him before you could finish, with him pressing light kisses and nips to your neck, all the way to the skin of your collarbone. "Hey, that tickles." You say between giggles as you put your palms against his tank top, damp with sweat.

"I can't help it when you look like this. Did you shower?" He nuzzles his face against your neck, taking in your natural scent mixed with your pomegranate scented lotion.

"Hmm, I did." You whisper softly, your hands running up his shoulders and heading to the nape of his neck, playing with the loose strands of his dark hair.

"I could tell... you smell so good I could eat you up." You chuckle lightly upon hearing his words before you look at his face, his pupils dilating with desire and his plump lips parted as he looked down at you, his hot body above your naked one as he supported himself with his forearms. Goddamnit. The way he was looking at you was making you feel all warm and fuzzy inside, the way his hair hung around his face, his tall and well built figure that always made you feel safe, both during and and after those traumatic games – the games you were partially glad you went to because otherwise you wouldn't have met him.

You always felt so lucky you had him in your life and your friends kept constantly telling you the same thing, considering your past terrible experiences with men and for that reason, you never expected for him to turn out to be the way he was – so kind and respectful, soft and humble, a beautiful man inside and out – but after a couple of years of being together, you realized you were indeed lucky.

"Baby?" Dae-ho's voice interrupted your train of thoughts and you hum lowly in response, focusing back on him. "You're so beautiful." His whispered words made you melt from the inside and you smile warmly at him, leaning up to press a passionate kiss on his lips and you feel him instantly melting into the feeling of soft lips on his, your arms wrapping around his neck and bringing him down, causing his body weight to almost suffocate you.

And God, if it didn't make you feel even hotter inside.

You could feel his growing bulge through his shorts as the kiss deepens, tongues meeting in each other's mouths, your fingers tangling themselves in his hair as his big hands roamed all over your exposed skin, caressing your waist, your hips, your thighs and coming back up. The kiss eventually breaks, both your breaths mingling in the shared space but Dae-ho's mouth doesn't leave your skin, kissing down your jawline, biting and sucking on your neck, heading down your sternum and stopping to gently suck on your hardening nipples and you push your chest more into his face, his lips enveloping your left nipple as he sucks.

You lay your head back against the pillow with a low moan and let yourself get lost on the feeling of his mouth, of his hands, of him. Your hands are still firmly but gently tangled in his hair as he continues to lick and suck on your nipple, letting go of it after a few more seconds and moving to the right one, repeating his actions.

He eventually continues his way down your body, kissing down your navel and making his way down until he gets to your pubic bone, stopping and planting his chin on it, looking up at you through lustful eyes, his hands still caressing all over your torso.

"You smell so good, baby... I want to taste you. Please, let me taste you." Jesus, this man wanted to kill you. You try not to buck your hips against his face at his words, even though you were starting to get wetter and wetter as seconds went by.

"Dae-ho..."

"Please, baby... I just want to taste you, I need it." You almost opened your legs like a starfish and let him go at it, your thighs barely twitching under his toned body but he noticed it. He noticed the same want, the same need in your eyes as you looked down at him just like he noticed your legs twitching to open yourself up to him.

A few seconds of silence go by before he suddenly sits up on his knees, taking a hold of the pits of your knees before speaking. "Can you turn around for me, love?" He asks as he makes a spinning gesture with his finger and you tilt your head a little, your eyes filled with confusion and desire but you just nod quietly and adjust your position to lay on your stomach again.

You bite your lower lip and try to control your breathing, crossing your arms and placing them below the pillow your head was laying on when Dae-ho's lips start kissing the back of your neck, making his way down your back, until he reaches your coccyx, his warm touch never leaving your skin as he grips your hips and ass cheeks, nipping and kissing the fat in the area.

You raise your head a little to glance at him from over your shoulder, watching the way his bangs fell against his eyes as he kissed you nonstop all over your skin before his eyes suddenly meet yours and you felt even more turned on upon seeing the hunger that filled his gaze.

He sits back up on his knees again, this time without saying a word and grips your hips firmly in his hands and propping them up, positioning you on all fours with your head down and your ass up in the air.

"So pretty..." You almost didn't hear his words due to aroused you were at the moment, your focus solely on how wet you were and on his touch and gaze on you. The whole scene was making you feel slightly exposed – exposed to the air, to his touch, to him – but it only made you feel hotter.

"Can I?" His words were low but you could hear them perfectly, making your back arch even more and for your ass to buck towards his face.

"Yes." That was all the confirmation Dae-ho needed as he caressed the meat connecting your cheeks and thighs, focusing on the way your pussy glistening with your arousal in the daylight and that's when he leans in to lick a strip up your vulva, starting from your clit and all the way to your hole and you immediately moan at the sensation, your eyes closing as your forehead hit your pillow.

That was a little over an hour ago.

You were still in the same position, like a feline stretching, the only difference being the current shaking of your thighs and the moaning and whimpering that kept leaving your lips. You felt like your head was swaying and your cunt was aching – for more or for less you couldn't tell – but Dae-ho's mouth never left it. He was too lost in you, too lost in your scent and taste and feeling of you on his tongue, that and the whines of pleasure were the only things that kept him going. Each stripe he licked, each time he sucked and slurped filled his taste bluds with you, his hands gripping all over your hips and ass before settling on the back of your upper thighs, his thumbs splayed close to your lips before he spreads your pussy open even more and covers it fully with his mouth, his lips then closing around your clit and sucking it in, giving a few kitten licks as he does so, and pulling at it as he leans away.

"Hmm... my sweet pretty girl... you always taste so good." He mumbles and presses a few light kisses around the area, not touching the place you needed the most to get you going, already knowing how desperate and needy you were as you kept moving your hips towards his face.

"D-Dae-ho... please..."

"Talk to me, pretty. What do you want?"

"I wanna cum... please let me cum." God, you didn't even know what your asking – begging – for at the moment but it was too good; so good. It was like you never wanted him to stop, desperately seeking that release that stuck inside your lower belly and then, almost like thelepathically, Dae-ho filled his mouth with your cunt again. He never once stops or slows down his actions, letting out a few content hums against your aching pussy, his tongue invading your pulsing hole and thrusting in and out as much as he could at the same time one of his thumbs moves to your puffy clit, circling it fast and lightly.

Your hands took a tight hold of your pillow, biting it and pressing your face against it when suddenly his smell filled your nostrils and that was when you realized it wasn't your pillow you had been holding on to this entire time – no, it was his.

Your eyes almost rolled into the back of your head as you took in his musky scent, one of your hands traveling backwards to grip his hair, pressing his face even more against your cunt as you moaned into the pillow. Wet, squelching sounds filled the already hot air as he thrusted his tongue inside you, stopping every once in a while to suck on your clit again and vice versa. He could feel his drool mixed with your arousal surrounding the corners of his mouth, same with the tip of his nose but he loved it.

"Oh, fuck... I'm... I'm close." You manage to say in between moans when you feel the heat growing in the pit of your belly and Dae-ho's pace never changes, alternating between flattening his tongue and licking your aching clit and stretching it out to thrust into your hole, adding one of his fingers or two every once in a while.

"Cum for me, precious, c'mon." His honeyed voice and encouraging tone was all you needed for that coil suddenly snap, your loud moans and whimpers slightly muffled by his pillow as your body trembles with pleasure, your hips involuntarily bucking against his face and your fingers still tangled in his locks but he continues to suck and lick your clit, sometimes even giving it little nips with his teeth as you rode out your fourth, perhaps fifth orgasm.

"Dae... Dae-ho..." You panted, almost like a prayer when he eventually pulls away, thinking he was finally going to stop.

"Please, baby, just one more, okay?" You mentally prepared yourself when those words left his sinful lips again, knowing he wasn't going to stop so soon.

♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤♡♤

A/N: good god, I barely slept the past two days just so that I could at least get this one done but hopefully you guys will like it. I'm still writing that salesman fic but it's been on hold because my period isn't even here yet and it's already making me go through five stages of grief😃 anyways, recently I've watched Bloodhounds and Alice in borderland on Netflix and I've been thinking of writing for them in the future but I don't know if anyone would read it, what do you guys think?

[itsmedemibones]

I Choo-choose You week

Day 4- Date

Okay oops. I'm not as happy with this one for some reason, so please have the relevant excerpt from my WIP Ingo/Reader fic.

Flustered Ingo tooth-rotting-sugary fluff under the cut.

The Tracks We Take

The park is peaceful this time of day, the golden glow of the late afternoon sun filtering through the trees, casting dappled light across the grass. Your Pokémon play nearby— Darumaka happily chasing after Duosion, who bobs along, unbothered by his antics, like a bubble on the breeze. Ingo’s team roams, enjoying the open air, though his Excadrill sits in the shade, half-buried in the dirt, content to rest.

You're leaning back on your hands, legs stretched out across the large blanket Ingo had brought. It's peaceful. It's almost hard to imagine that you had both been so nervous for this. It's your first date, but it feels… right. Easy. The wind ruffles your hair and you breathe in a deep, content breath. 

And yet.

For the last few minutes, you’ve watched Ingo, seated beside you, slowly become more tense. His previously loose posture has become rigid and he's fidgeting with a blade of grass, brows furrowed as he stares intently at the ground.

He wants to say something.

You know him well enough to see the signs. That way his shoulders keep tensing; how he inhales as if to speak, only to stop and exhale again, silent.

You wait, giving him time. There's no rush. 

But after his third failed attempt, you can't help but to take pity on him. You shift a bit closer, brushing your hand lightly over his. The contact startles him, and he flinches slightly, grass falling to the blanket.

"Ingo," you say gently. "Whatever it is, I promise there's nothing you could say that would make me love you any less."

His breath catches.

Slowly, he turns to look at you, his expression unreadable. Stunned, maybe, like he hadn’t expected you to call him out on his hesitance. 

Then he swallows, and you see the tiniest twitch of the muscle in his jaw as he gathers his courage.

"Y/N," he says, his normally booming voice almost hushed. "I... I wish to ask you something that has been weighing on my mind."

You nod, moving your hand to slowly, deliberately squeeze his. "Go ahead."

He inhales deeply.

You're not sure what you expect. You're already past declarations of love. He's asked you on a date. What could he still be so–

"I wish to know… what you have imagined about me."

Your brain stutters to a halt, shocked at the sheer boldness of the request coming from Ingo of all people.

But despite his boldness, he looks like he might faint just from the mere thought that you've imagined him at all.

You remember the day you confessed that you love him. How Emmet had casually teased Ingo, asking how the real thing compared to the (many, many) nights he apparently lay awake imagining you doing so. How Ingo had felt so terribly embarrassed, thinking it indecent to imagine such things without your consent. 

Your lips part, then close. You bite your lip realizing you aren't sure how to answer. 

You take a moment, studying him. The tightness around his eyes. The way he stares at your hand on his, as though it’s the only thing keeping him tethered. The way his ears are a furious shade of red.

And you understand. 

He wants to know, but he’s also terrified to know.

So you take your time, ever so gently twining your fingers with his. You can feel how warm he is, how his fingers twitch against yours, how he’s bracing as though expecting an impact.

"Ingo," you murmur, smiling softly. With his level of tension, you do have to wonder… "Would you like me to tell you the safe things I’ve imagined, or… or the scandalous ones?"

He– whimpers.

That's the only word for the strangled sound that espapes his tight throat. Quickly, he looks away, free hand coming up to press against his mouth as if that will somehow contain his mortification.

But he doesn’t let go of your hand.

And that?

Tells you all you need to know.

—Ingo—

Ingo swallows, staring at the blanketed ground between you both as he struggles to find his words. He should not have asked. Arceus, what had possessed him to ask?

You are patient. You always are. You squeeze his hand gently, steadying him like a coupler, keeping his engine on the track despite his spiraling thoughts.

"Alright," you say at last when he still does not answer. Your voice is warm, reassuring. "I'll start with the innocent things."

He exhales slowly, tension in his shoulders easing just a bit even as he trembles slightly. It is not everything you have imagined, but it is… some of it, and perhaps... perhaps he can handle that much.

"I've imagined us doing things like this," you say softly, gesturing to the picnic spread. "Spending time together, talking, sharing meals. Just... being with you. I’ve imagined holding your hand while we walk through Gear Station, or bringing you a coffee while you work. Maybe lunch, during a busy day."

His breath hitches. That is– that is something he had not realized was even a possibility. You, beside him in the place that matters to him most. You continue on, seemingly unaware of the impact your words are having– he feels unsteady on the tracks. At risk of derailment. 

"I’ve imagined you letting me borrow your coat when it's cold, because I know you’d do it in a heartbeat."

He clears his throat, trying not to sound as flustered as he feels. "That is… correct." He would gladly do so. Would love to do so. The thought of seeing you in his coat is also- pleasant.

He glances over. Sees your pleased grin, and the sight of it makes his heart stutter.

"And sometimes, when I can’t sleep, I imagine what it would be like if I could just rest my head against you. If you’d let me. If you’d want me to."

Ingo has no idea how to respond to that.

He tightens his grip on your hand instead, holding on to your warmth like a lifeline.

"Y/N…" he says, but nothing else follows.

He feels you lean in slightly, toeing the line of too close as your expression turns playful. Turns– knowing.

And then, in a voice so soft it barely exists, you whisper…

"But Ingo, I've also imagined kissing you."

His body jerks.

His mind goes utterly blank.

The words should not be scandalous. He should not be this affected. But he is.

It is too much.

Yet it is perfect.

He grips your hand tighter. Not exactly in panic. He just– cannot let go.

You watch him, waiting. Patient as always. Giving him space, giving him time.

"I just thought you should know," you say, so, so gently. Then you lean out of his space, slipping easily back as if you have not just derailed his engine entirely. "Now, do you want another berry skewer? Or should we go check on the Pokémon?"

Ingo does not know how to answer.

He cannot answer.

All he knows is that he is still holding your hand, and despite everything, despite how overwhelmed he is… he does not want to let go.

[l0vergirls]

munchausen syndrome by proxy.

romantic yan!batfam <3

as requested by anon:

the symptoms start showing slowly in the form of fatigue, common headaches, and dizziness. as time passed, it got worse and worse, which left you bedridden.

it was tough to get used to, but you held onto the hope that it'll be gone in a couple weeks, just as bruce said.

during this time, they coddled you to no end.

dick often visited you with a hot meal in his hands, which he'd insisted on feeding to you even though you've proven you could do it yourself.

no use straining yourself with extra work, he said.

you could accept that he was a caretaker at heart, but it felt a bit much when he would run his fingers through your hair, whispering words of consolation.

tim was usually the one giving you your doses, as well as bruce. there was no reason to suspect him, after all, with his skittish grin and slightly awkward demeanor. sometimes, he would bring a handheld console with him to ease your boredom. you favored him slightly more than the others because of that.

jason visited you the least and when he would, he had an unreadable expression written all over his face. he wasn't bad company; conversations with him were always fluid and enjoyable, which was why you wondered why he seldom visited you when you were stuck in that room. you didn't hold it against him— you couldn't, for some reason.

damian liked visiting you, though if you didn't know him as well as you did, you couldn't exactly tell. you've learned to look at the most miniscule of his habits to read him. the most obvious one would be how his shoulders would slightly relax around you.

bruce was by your side most often, believe it or not. whether it be giving you your medicine, or just to spend the night sleeping on the chair whilst he holds you hand. he constantly reassured you that you'd be better in no time; not that you had any other choice but to believe him.

when the couple weeks are up, you've felt an improvement. that is until you suddenly feel like fainting after a shower.

you didn't— but the boys would rather not take a risk, so why not just stay here a bit longer? that way, they can monitor your vitals, and give you just what you need!

you're free to roam around the mansion, just don't push yourself too hard lest you want to find yourself back in that room.

and if you suddenly feel suffocated, so hopeless in that place, fearing that you may never get better? fret not, someone's always there to wipe your tears, hold you tenderly in his arms, and kiss away your sorrows.

do i think that jason would feel very guilty basically having a hand in taking away your autonomy? yes . will i elaborate on this? let me get back to you on that .......

[catcze]

wriothesley would do the thing when you make out with him where he like. shoves his knee between your legs while he pins you to something and I absolutely stand by that.

16+ !! Suggestive content !!

OH HE WOULDD oh fucking shit he would that's so hot. Also. I got. Carried away. Again.

「 CWS : 」 Heavily suggestive. Like. incredibly so. Teetering the line between suggestive and worth classifying as h word content, even. They make out. Wrio likes biting and marking reader up and hearing the reader. Reader is kinda needy and sensitive.There's nothing explicitly sexual (which is the primary reason i only marked this as 16+ and not something higher) but it is heavily veering in that direction lmao. Also some softness at the end. GN reader.

Wriothesley takes every chance he can to pin you against a wall and absolutely kiss you breathless. You'd be hard pressed to find anywhere in the fortress where he hasn't tried to sneak a kiss in once or twice. It's as if he has to meet a regular quota of kisses from you to get through his day, and now is no exception.

His office is arguably one of his favorite locations aside from his bedroom. Your back is against one of the many bookshelves, the hard spines and shelves digging into your skin, but you couldn't care any less with his lips on yours and his hands roaming all over you. He pulls from you a stream gasps and whines and eagerly swallows them down like the finest of tea, so readily taking everything you have to offer.

"Wrio," you gasp when he lets you come up for air, face warm and practically shaking in his hold. Wriothesley on the other hand immediately goes to your neck where he laves heavy kisses, kitten licks and the occasional nip on your skin. As you whine at the sensation, you're damn sure that the skin there is going to be sore tomorrow.

One of Wriothesley's hands comes up to grip your waist and the other weaves his fingers with yours, pinning your hand back against the bookshelf and making a couple thick tomes tumble down with a loud thump. Wriothesley doesn't care in the slightest, never tearing his attention away from you.

You tremble in his hold, legs shaking and practically jelly. Small gasps and whines leave you with each pass he makes on your neck, and at the rate you’re going you might just end up tumbling to the floor, too.

Wriothesley knows this, and graciously he shoves a thigh between your legs, and lets you practically sit on it while he gets right back to business.

He does it to be caring, you know, to make sure you’re supported and you don’t fall. But in the long run it's even more detrimental to your sanity than if he had just let you collapse in a heap. The extra touch has your mind abuzz, has your hands shaking and a whimper crawling up the back of your throat. With his thigh between your legs, he leans more of his body weight into you and against the bookshelf, pressing his face further into your neck and making his ministrations feel all that more heavy.

It has you letting out the loudest gasp, a breathless call of his name that has you mortified at how needy you are. Flames of embarrassment lick at your neck and your face, and your free hand slaps over your mouth to muffle any other noises you make.

Wriothesley nips at your skin a bit harsher, as if in punishment.

"Let me hear you, sweetheart," he says, voice a raspy, low rumble. "I want to know you feel good. Please." He pulls your hand away from your mouth and settles it on his shoulder instead, letting you grip his shirt for support as he goes back to marking you up, intent of pulling every single noise he can from your throat.

Helpless, you gasp and whine and fucking squirm as Wriothesley keeps his mouth and his teeth on your neck, intent of painting your skin like a canvas. When he's satisfied with his work and returns to kissing your lips raw, your mind feels hazy and there's an apothecary of butterflies fluttering wild in your stomach.

You squeeze Wriothesley's hand, his shoulder— any part of him that you can get your hands on. He hums in delight every time you do so, his efforts to kiss you senseless redoubling and making the tingle in your limbs grow.

"Wrio," you whine between kisses, resting your weight on his thigh, practically slumping against him as you go boneless in his hold. His hand on your waist pulls you closer, pins you securely between him and the bookshelf. You shake like a leaf in the wind, the blood running hot in your veins.

Wriothesley holds you against him while you regain your breath, pressing a tender kiss to your temple.

"I love you," he says, softly. Sweetly. So at odds with the hungry way he’d kissed you and covered you in his marks. His hand squeezes yours, he pulls you even closer against him. He sighs. "I love you so very very much."

You don't respond— don't have enough air in your lungs for that yet, but you squeeze his hand tight in your own. One, two, three times, and lean into him like you're about to fall asleep. He doesn’t mind your silence. If anything, he sidles up closer and adjusts his grip so that you can be a bit more comfortable. Another kiss finds it’s way into your hair. Another hum escapes you.

Wriothesley doesn't need to hear your answer aloud— not when he's already well aware of his place in your heart.

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

[afyrian]

☆ cattle-crossed lovers w/ kita | wc: 542

m.list

    "you know what my dad would say, shin," you lean up against your fence, feet crossed as your hands cover one his, a gleam of perspiration on top.

  kita looks back towards you, meeting your eyes with his, his free hand reaching up for your cheek. his calloused hands that once brought wonderful nausea to your stomach, feel so normal now. the way his thumb roams your cheek, his fingers lining your jawbone. it feel natural there, just as much as his hand in yours' does. "good thing he doesn't have to know," he leans forward, pressing his lips against your's.

  similarly, you can tell that he hasn't used the chapstick you've gotten for him. the intense summer heat cracks his lips into a thick and stubborn substance. and yet, you can't help but melt within his touch. the way his lips taste like coffee that isn't quite gone yet, a hint of metallic following through. and it reminds you of all the times you've seen him hold a nail between his lips.

  biting at his lip, you take one hand from his, running it behind his neck. more precipitation is born there, rolling in beads down within his shirt and down his back. you know you should stop, that you should head back to work. that your father, no matter how intrigued with his cattle, would eventually see you. but feeling his fingers linger by your neck electrifies you.

  "you're dad's eventually gonna see us," he finally whispers into your lips, hand pulling back from your cheek, hesitation deeply sitting within his veins. 

  "your dad might too... doesn't stop you from inviting me over almost every night," you whisper back, leaning back so your foreheads touch, lips separating.

  kita leans back from your touch, pursing his lips. you can see his cheek moves as his tongue runs along his teeth. shaking his head, he taps against one of the fence posts, a smile waiting to creep out. "so you don't want to be invited over anymore? because i happen to think you rather enjoy yourself too-"

  "hey, i never said i don't enjoy your invites. just that it gets a bit risky climbing up that trellis. and unfortunately creaky," you smile, setting your hand on top of his, letting him feel the tougher parts of your skin. the very same skin that scales buildings for him. 

  the two of you stand there for a moment, staring each other down with no abandon. you want to pull him in by the jacket, give him another reason to sneak off with you again. however, you can spot his father down by the barn, ready to get on some machinery. knowing it's finally time to separate, you bring your hand back.

  "we should get back to work."

  "and you should text me when you're at my window tonight... throwing a rock probably isn't the best idea anymore. i want to see you a bit more before you're off for university again."

  "i know," you nod, looking back towards his father once more. noticing he's so far away, you grab kita by the collar of his jacket, giving him a quick kiss to the side of the mouth, "hope that makes up for the time away."

gen. taglist (open): @eggyrocks @causenessus @applepi25 @softpia @bakery-anon

@nekozaki @nnnyxie @kameyyy @nectardaddy

[nowimjustastranger]

What is this, a crossover follow-up?

You know it! Thank fuck Part 2 is finally done, it was fighting me this whole time and I finally managed to wrangle it into submission lol.

Art by @tearosepedall

Part 1

“You’re going to have to remove a few layers if I’m to administer proper medical attention.” Ford grunted, scanning Jerk Ford to keep an eye on his surprisingly stable vitals. They were just now starting to dip into potentially life-threatening territory, which was impressive considering that Jerk Ford had been riddled with holes for at least an hour.

“Only if you take off your helmet." Jerk Ford retorted, his words at odds with how he moved to dutifully hold his hoodie and undershirts up so Ford could scrutinize his wounds unhindered.

“No.” Ford snapped without conscious thought, a knee-jerk denial to such vulnerability. Taking off the helmet would remove his prescience from the equation and tip the scales in Jerk Ford’s favor. He couldn’t afford to give Jerk Ford any advantage or he might take control of the situation.

"You're asking me to strip in the middle of a grimy alleyway, the least you could do is take the damn bucket off. We have the same face for fuck’s sake." Jerk Ford scowled, his grip on the bunched up fabric of his layers tightening. His nails were brittle, indicating an underlying health problem beyond his current injuries.

Ford grimaced, acknowledging that Jerk Ford had a point. And, for the sake of keeping things somewhat amicable, he supposed that it was a small price to pay. Besides, he still outmatched Jerk Ford in terms of both speed and strength. If his counterpart tried anything, he was confident that he could handle it.

Ford reached under his jaw, fingers finding the metal side release buckle and unclipping it with a firm press on either side. The thin, needle-like probe plugged into the port embedded in the back of his head slid out and folded away into a hidden compartment before he hesitantly dragged his helmet off. He squinted at the sudden wave of sensory input, no longer filtered by the helmet.

"Huh, interesting. That a prescription helmet? Or did you bite the bullet and get some Space LASIK?" Jerk Ford huffed, sharp eyes roaming over his face as if committing it to memory; or perhaps searching for something. Either way, Ford felt exposed under his piercing gaze.

“I had eye surgery to enhance my vision.” Ford mumbled, oddly self-conscious about his voice now that he didn’t have the built-in voice modulator to mask certain emotions. It was easier to talk to people when they didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling. Of course, that’s not to say his composure wasn’t immaculate, but it was hard to hide from himself.

Jerk Ford nodded, his eyes drifting to the mouth of the alley as he let go of the cloth clenched in his hands in favor of dragging his hoodie up and off, closely followed by his undershirt and thermal shirt. He carelessly draped all three items over one of his arms to keep them off the ground but out of the way, his free hand adjusting his glasses since they had been knocked askew as he stripped.

The first thing that Ford noticed was how thin he was, his ribs visible under sickly pale skin. The brittle fingernails, the almost grayish cast to his complexion, the dark circles under his eyes, and the sheer amount of layers he wore on a pleasantly warm day had Ford suspecting that he was anemic on top of being malnourished. Ford contemplated giving Jerk Ford one of the snacks he kept stashed on his person before they parted ways, though he doubted it would be well received.

"How did you end up in the multiverse?” Ford asked, shedding both his gloves and trench coat to maybe help the other man feel less uncomfortable by further baring himself. His arms were covered in extensive scarring from blades and burns and bullets, though Jerk Ford didn’t give them more than a passing glance, far more interested in his face for some reason.

Ford rummaged through the pouches on his utility belt, retrieving a serum to kick-start the healing process and a second one that would help his body replenish the lost blood faster. Ford instinctively pressed a warm palm to Jerk Ford’s side as he stuck the first needle into the bullet wound, administering an equal amount into each hole in Jerk Ford’s torso before waiting for them to start steadily closing to make sure he didn’t need another dose.

"Bill possessed me and tried to start the portal, but my brother came downstairs to stop him. There was a fight." Jerk Ford recounted, mouth twisting as his eyes got distant, staring at nothing in particular when his attention turned inward. "Bill pinned him against a control panel and burned him, and he kicked us back as a knee-jerk reaction."

“I see.” Ford said in a carefully neutral tone, processing the freely offered information as his gaze swept over each injury to ensure that the damage was repaired, leaving sensitive pink skin where gaping wounds used to be.

"Knowing him, he still feels guilty about it, all these years later.” Jerk Ford sighed, blinking a few times as he returned to the present when one of Ford’s hands cupped his forearm, the other using two fingers to prod Jerk Ford’s inner elbow to search for a vein.

"If he hadn't kicked you into the portal, Bill would have made you kill him.” Ford stated, uncapping the second syringe to ease the needle into the vein that seemed most promising.

"I can hardly tell him that from this side, dumbass.” Jerk Ford scoffed, watching Ford slowly press the plunger so the iridescent liquid could enter his bloodstream. A beneficial side effect of the serum was that Jerk Ford would be warmed from the inside until the serum was fully converted into red and white blood cells, which would ease the complications that came with being anemic.

"Do you miss him? Your brother?” Ford asked, tucking the emptied syringe into the same pouch that held the first one before stepping back. Jerk Ford took that as his cue to shrug back into his undershirt and trademark hoodie, Ford himself pulling his trench coat and gloves back on.

"What a stupid question, of course I do. Every fucking day." Jerk Ford declared in such a casual tone that Ford paused, his brows furrowing as he scrutinized this strangely open variation of himself. He’d said those words like it was a simple fact, like it was expected and shouldn’t be surprising to hear in the least. "Most of the Fordverse does, but you know that pride and ego get in the way of admitting it.”

“You’re very self-aware for a Ford.” Ford remarked, tone cautious. He was used to navigating a minefield of bitterness and excessive anger –or even outright violence on occasion– when he brought up a Ford’s variation of Stanley; this was jarringly different from the usual routine of arguing with a man who would rather commit suicide desperately trying to kill a cosmic god then admit that they missed their brother.

"We all have the ability to be. But for a lot of us, we're too stubborn. The sin of pride hangs over my head as it does any other version of us; the only real difference is that my ego is not the most important thing in the multiverse to me." Jerk Ford said with an indifferent shrug, bracing a hand on the wall to push himself up straight, looking pleasantly surprised when he found that his legs held his weight.

“What is the most important thing to you then?” Ford asked, intrigued by this strange version of himself who’s brutal honesty came off as jerkish and abrasive. Ford has met all kinds of Fords from every stage of life; but this Ford, this so-called Jerk Ford, was the first one he had met that he didn’t actively want to maim.

"Going home. It's been a long time, but I know there's at least one person who is still waiting for me." Jerk Ford admitted, brushing himself off. He was avoiding eye contact and his posture indicated that he felt awkward, all signs that pointed toward Jerk Ford making himself look occupied on purpose. It was a common tactic used among Fords when the matter of feelings came up.

“And what of Bill Cipher?” Ford prompted with a grimace. Uttering the name made his mouth feel numb even now, all these years later. The chill that crawled down his spine was expected, as was the sudden flare-up of his rampant paranoia. Suddenly, he wanted the helmet back on more than anything, wanted the comfort of his technology.

"What about him? He's probably being a total bitch to someone else right now." Jerk scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. Ford was momentarily stunned by how… unaffected by the topic of Bill Jerk Ford was, as if Bill didn’t have the same hold on him as the demon did other Fords. “If I wanted him on my mind 24/7, I wouldn't have bothered with a metal plate."

“You’re not concerned that he might seek revenge against you and your family?” Ford asked, his voice harder than he’d intended. Jerk Ford’s eyes cut to him, staring with an intensity that made Ford posture on instinct.

"I can either go back to my dimension and seal it against him because I'm the only one from my Earth who knows his weaknesses. Or, I can die in a suicide mission against him, and no one seals it. It's not a hard choice. I'm not some hero trying to take on some omniscient triangle who's mad at being told ‘no’." Jerk Ford bit out, crossing his arms.

“And the destruction and pain he will cause because you didn’t destroy him?” Ford seethed, hands curling into fists. Jerk Ford’s narrowed eyes briefly darted down to them, something flickering underneath the defensive anger before it was swiftly buried again. “Do you often let others suffer the consequences of your mistakes because you can’t be bothered to fix them?”

"First you want to know about my relationship with my twin, and now you're getting on my case about Bill Cipher?” Jerk Ford retorted, bracing himself in a manner that signalled that he was ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. “If you're so concerned, why don't you go around eradicating that isosceles bastard and all of his alternates? Is it because you're too busy committing the most elaborate method of self-harming possible?"

“You can’t just go home and pretend he doesn't exist and that he doesn't have a personal vendetta against you!” Ford snarled, closing the gap between them with an abrupt burst of movement, slamming his counterpart up against the wall. Jerk Ford’s annoyed expression finally cracked, revealing the unmistakable wariness beneath. “He will destroy everything you care about and everyone you love, saving you for last. And if you’re lucky he’ll just kill you and be done with it.”

"I don't think this is really about me right now." Jerk Ford said slowly, one of his hands tentatively moving to Ford’s wrist. His fingers curled around the sliver of skin beneath his sleeve, gently squeezing, and Ford’s entire body hummed with the cautious contact. "Look at me, I can't even fight you. If I tried to take Cipher head-on, it's going to end with me dead, Cipher alive, and my dimension unsealed. It's my fault, I'm not going to lie about that, just like most versions of us I did this. But if I'm gonna fix it, I can't do it from out here."

“I–” Ford cut himself off with a shuddering breath, his grip on Jerk Ford’s hoodie loosening. The red film over his vision slinked back into the bowels of his mind, leaving Ford staring at his counterpart, towering over Jerk Ford’s slightly shorter frame menacingly. “I… can see where you’re coming from. The best offense is a good defense, as it were. Play to your strengths.”

Ford let go of Jerk Ford’s hoodie. Stepped back.

“That’s all we can do, out here.” Jerk Ford murmured, his lax hold lingering, a welcome warmth against Ford’s skin. He breathed in deep, holding for a few moments, before exhaling slowly. Ford’s insides were jittery, but the contact grounded him to the here and now. He wondered how Jerk Ford had figured it out, or if he had simply made an educated guess and hoped for the best.

"You never did say why you hounded me. Any version of us would be down for a philosophy chat if that’s what you were looking for. You're not after a bounty. And the Hate Club has a policy of shooting someone dead if they 'sympathize' with me.” Jerk Ford changed the subject with surprising tact, finally relinquishing his loose grip. Ford watched his counterpart’s arm fall limp at his side, a part of him mourning the loss.

"I wasn't after your bounty specifically, no. Though you were brought to my attention due to a wanted poster.” Ford hummed, taking the out that was freely offered with no small amount of relief. "I was mainly concerned for your brother, so I figured I would evaluate your character to determine whether or not you were as bad as your hate club claims.”

"Oh no, I'm definitely as bad as they say. Except to my brother. You won't believe me when I say this, but he is literally the only person in this whole multiverse that I've never been mean to. It's not like they ever believed that… or bothered to ask.” Jerk Ford snorted, something akin to bitterness in his tone. Ford really couldn’t blame him, not when the vast majority of their variants were insufferable.

"So long as you're an adequate brother to Stan, I could care less if you're good or bad.” Ford grunted, striding over to where he had discarded his helmet in his rage, scooping it up and wiping the grime off the otherwise unblemished surface with the sleeve of his trench coat.

“Why do you care at all?” Jerk Ford asked, his voice closer than Ford expected. Ford turned to confirm that, yes, Jerk Ford had trailed after him. Ford had been one wrong word from inflicting bodily harm no more than a minute ago and his intended victim wasn’t running for the hills. How peculiar. “Don’t you have your own brother to look after?”

“My brother…" Ford pauses, a lump forming in his throat. He swiftly donned the helmet to hide behind carbon fiber, fiberglass, and expanded polypropylene. He swallowed thickly, mouth twisted with grief and guilt. When he tried again, his voice was monotone after being filtered through the built-in modulator. "My original brother. He's– well. I haven't seen him in decades.”

"Like the rest of us?" Jerk Ford drawled, raising a brow.

“I'm just one of the many Fords who didn't realize the damage they were doing until it was far too late." Ford said blandly, head ducking a bit so he could stare down at his hands. Being destined for greatness meant very little when it had cost him half his soul, a price that Ford realized was far too steep far too late. "I have no one to blame but myself for what happened.”

“Hm.” Jerk Ford hummed, his expression giving nothing away. Ford had no idea what he could be thinking, it was… unsettling. Ford would analyze his counterpart to figure it out, but he didn’t actually want to know what the other man thought of him now that his inadequacy was made so glaringly obvious.

“No scathing comment? From what I’ve been able to gather about your character thus far, it’s unlike you.” Ford huffed, attempting to make light of the situation, but it fell horribly flat. Stans excelled in this area, but Ford had never seemed to get the hang of coping with humor no matter how much time he spent around variations of his brother.

"Look, I've been called a lot of things; a jerk, an asshole, a jackass, a bitch–and all of those things are true.” Jerk Ford stressed, his brows furrowed. He almost looked offended by the implication that he would be that cruel, and his next words confirmed it: “But I'm not a monster.”

“No, you’re not.” Ford agreed, his attention drawn away from his counterpart when his proximity sensor chirped at him. Ford’s eyes flicked to the icon, selecting it with a blink. Movement at the mouth of the alley, steadily making its way closer. The dot was moving slowly, indicating cautiousness. There was a high probability that whoever was approaching was one of Jerk Ford’s allies, over 70%.

"I did have to sink that low once. Once. It was to save my life, but I still wish I didn't have to.” Jerk Ford continued, as if he couldn’t stop himself, like he was trying to convince Ford –or perhaps himself– that whatever he had done didn’t make him scum. Once upon a time Ford would’ve been able to relate, but now there were only a handful of lines that he would not cross.

"We all do things we're not proud of to survive. I would never hold that against you, doing so would make me a hypocrite.” Ford offered, multitasking between keeping track of the dot and presenting his own opinion on the matter. He could tell that his words settled Jerk Ford a bit, easing a deep-rooted doubt that no amount of empty words could soothe.

“Psst! Jerk!” A familiar voice carried through the quiet alley, Ford turning to get eyes on the colorful man that was crouched behind a dumpster nearby. The Anti-Ford’s gaze kept straying from Jerk Ford, anxiously checking to see if Ford had moved. “Dude, let’s get out of here before… he tries anything. S is waiting around the corner for us.”

Jerk Ford heaved a sigh and shuffled forward, bypassing Ford to reach his ally, who lurched to his feet in order to meet him. Quite brave of the Anti-Ford considering he was clearly terrified, all but dragging Jerk Ford back the way that Anti-Ford had come. The Anti Ford was whispering a mile a minute, continuously looking behind them like he expected to see Ford rushing at them.

However, Jerk Ford only looked back a moment before the pair turned the corner to meet up with this mysterious ‘S’ figure that the Anti-Ford had mentioned, his expression once again unreadable.

[trippinsorrows]

Wait, Solana asks Roman to take her virginity? In what context? 🤔

his hands are everywhere. feeling. groping. touching. that yearning burning and radiating off the both of him.

her fingers clutch at his hair, hanging, free, untethered. her mouth ajar as he kisses on her neck, pulling her closer and closer until their bodies merge into one.

it's wrong. oh so wrong. but god, has nothing ever felt so right.

roman's lips are back on hers, dominating, tasting, and memorizing every piece of her. like this is his last and only chance to do so. and, maybe it is. but, if that's the case, solana prays this moment stretches into a lifetime.

because, for the first time in months, she's not thinking. not panicking. pondering. she's just feeling. leading with her emotions.

leading with her heart.

her fingers move to the hem of his shirt, a slight tug resulting in him pulling it off, tossing it to the side. nervous but acting out of desire more than anything, she moves her hands to his abs.

"fuck," he hisses the moment her fingers touch his enflamed skin. he's solid underneath her gentle touch. a touch that clearly has him feeling the same way she does. "solana."

she doesn't let him finish, leaning up to smash her lips back onto his. again, there is no thought present in this room. just him, her, and a massive wave of built up passion and desire.

she doesn't even panic when roman lifts and hikes her onto his waist, carrying her from the living room of her apartment to the back, to her bedroom.

he's adept at navigating, all while maintaining their kiss, one hand hitting the switch as he carries her over to her bed. continuing that gentleness only available for her as he lays her down. solana pulls him atop her, wanting and loving the feeling of him being so close to her. that heat addictive and penetrating.

wanton moans leave her mouth as those hands of his continue to roam her body, playing with her breast, flickering with the cotton of her shorts. but, it's when roman finger's brush against the waistband that fire snaps at him. or, something similiar.

she can only frown when he jerks back, sitting up, panting, running a hand through his hair. "fuck, we can't."

she swallows. the most sensible thing to come out of either of their mouths. all day. maybe longer, but it's not exactly what she wants to hear.

"roman, i---"

"you're vai's best friend, solana." fact. "too fuckin' young for me." not a fact. it's also not the major reason why this is wrong. all so wrong. a reason, for the first time ever, solana doesn't really care about in this moment.

it's why she pushes past those nerves and crawls to the edge of the bed, shifts her body so she's atop him and shoves away the screams of her panic and anxiety as she lifts her hoodie over her head.

roman's eyes immediately land on her breast. the pink lace complimentary to her complexion. his gaze darkens. "sol....."

she lifts her hands to his face, cupping his cheeks. "i want this." terror dances in her belly, as she finally allows herself to admit what she's tried her best to deny for months. "i want you."

his eyes study her, assessing and analyzing. very much like roman. "solana...." deep voice trailing off as he points out what she knows to be a major issue for him and nothing but a thing for her. "have you ever even done this before?"

the answer is simple. she can't and won't lie to him. "no." his expression shifts into something even more convicted as she lowers her lips over his. "but, i....i want to....with you." his sigh is deep, and the way he clutches her waist is telling. indicating. "please."

[exhaslo]

Corruption Ch11

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship? SMUT, Fingering, oral (male receiving)

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

Two Months, Ten Days until D-Day

There were a select few of people in all of Alchemax that were exempt from receiving the Rapture. Those people were the IT department. Those in the IT department had a different reason to stay working for the company.

Fear.

They learned things that they shouldn't know. They were the ones who had to fix all those horrible machines and computers that helped kill and torture people. Whenever something happened, those in the IT department were always the sacrificial lambs.

If they pissed off the wrong person.

Aaron was one of those people. He knew that Miguel was not fond of him. Some of his coworkers were already distancing themselves from him in fear of them catching Miguel's wrath. Miguel was the son of the CEO of Alchemax. You piss him off, you're dead.

Sitting on his computer, Aaron cursed lowly. It wasn't his fault that Miguel had it out for him. All he wanted was to ask you out. Aaron wanted to free you from Miguel's slimy grasp.

"He needs to pay, but how?"

"Looks like (Y/N) is requesting help again. Her heater died again. What's with her?" One of the IT workers whispered.

Aaron glanced at his screen, seeing your notification popped up. Miguel will defiantly be there if he replied, but this was the only chance for him to see you.

"She's just as bad as Miguel! Helping him all the time! How many coworkers have we lost to Rapture?"

Rapture? Aaron chuckled lowly as he accepted your request. Now that was an idea.

---------

"Miguel, you're going to be late if you stay like this." You sighed softly as he rested his head against your lap.

"I still have time. Let me think."

You pouted slightly, hiding your blush from Miguel. You were sitting on his desk like a trophy, but his head was buried against your lap. It felt so nice, having him give you this affection. You gasped quietly as Miguel's hands gripped your thighs.

"Miguel!" You huffed.

A shiver ran down your spine as you felt his hands stroke your thighs. His hands felt so warm. Trembling as Miguel groped your legs once more, you tried not to think about him pinning you down on his desk. Miguel was always handsy, but he hadn't fucked you yet.

Oh, how your wet dreams got more vivid with each passing day. Miguel's hands always roaming your body as if he was checking you, turned you on so much. You wanted to ask Miguel why he hadn't made a move yet. Why he was waiting so long?

"Alright, it's time for my meeting with my father and the shareholders. I trust that you'll be a good girl and stay here to sort my schedule, hm?"

"Yes, sir," You whispered as Miguel kissed you. Miguel just smirked,

"Hm, I might have to punish you later for calling me 'sir' again." His smile turned wicked, "Don't complain, understood?"

"Yes, Miguel." You replied, feeling trapped in a daze.

As Miguel left, you shivered in delight. Miguel was so cruel to you, but you loved it. You knew that Miguel was twisting your common sense and reason, but you couldn't stop him. Part of you wanted Miguel to taint you.

"I need to work on Miguel's schedule." You hummed.

---------

Miguel was quiet as he approached the elevator. Lately his father had been dragging him to more of these ridiculous meetings. Miguel had better things to be working on. More important things to be working on.

With a heavy roll of his eyes, Miguel scoffed as he arrived on the final floor. These meetings were just preparing him to take over Alchemax. It wasn't like Miguel didn't want to take control, it just wasn't in his interest right now.

"Ah, Miguel. Good of you to arrive on time." Tyler Stone spoke, Miguel's father.

"With how often you have me join, I have unfortunaly gotten into the habit." Miguel spat.

"This is for the best." Tyler hummed, leading Miguel into the board room, "Before the others arrive, I wanted to ask you about your assistant."

"(Y/N)?" Miguel's lazy gaze turned into a glare, "What about her?"

"Couldn't help but notice you spending more time with her. Now, I won't interfere with your love life, son, but her? You and I both know there are better."

"Ha, small thinking for now." Miguel snickered, "Give it time. You'll come around."

Everyone will come around once Miguel becomes an advance human like you.

"I've also noticed your new status in the city. I'm quite impressed with the connections you've made, son. I actually called this meeting for you to announce your new status."

"So they can seal their fate to us? Haha, as if my title is needed for such a simple task."

Of course not. Miguel was only destroying villains for you. He wanted to show his dominance, but it ended up turning into more. Miguel underestimated these villains. They kept coming back. If they weren't killed, they would not stop.

Either way, Miguel was enjoying the fight. He knew this wasn't why you became a hero, but this was a damn good feeling. Miguel enjoyed destroying the lives of others and tormenting other villains. They were nothing compared to him.

Nothing compared to you.

Miguel was enjoying the life of a villain.

"We also need to do something about that Spider-Woman. She's been seen around Alchemax and our warehouses." Tyler spoke.

Miguel resisted a chuckle. How cute of you. Trying to 'save' Miguel and stop the oh so evil Alchemax. This just meant that Miguel had to corrupt you more. He had to teach you a better lesson. Something that would really make you break.

"Ah,"

Something that will ease the both of you.

---------

Miguel had been in the meeting for a good while. You were still waiting in Miguel's office since yours was still cold. Twirling around in Miguel's chair, you started to think about your plan again. You were officially starting to bring down Alchemax.

It was a long and hard process, but you had found some good help. You were getting good information to take down Alchemax, now it was just a matter of concrete evidence. That was going to be hard because if you hacked into the system...well...

"Argh, this is annoying." You huffed.

You needed to get information without being spotted. Perhaps you could get someone in IT to cover your tracks. Remembering Aaron, you smiled at the thought. He might be able to help you hide from Alchemax's tight cyber security!

"At least one of us is still entertained." Miguel huffed as he entered his office. You gasped and hurried to him,

"Welcome back! How was your meeting?" You asked. Miguel raised a brow as he stroked your head,

"I need to destress."

"Ah, I'll give you a massage!" You chirped. Miguel just gave smirked,

"I was thinking of more than a simple massage."

Ohhhhh, you felt your panties get damp. Miguel grabbed your hand, leading you to his desk. You could feel your heart nearly leap out of your chest. Was this really happening? No, maybe Miguel just means something else.

"Come here," Miguel chuckled, patting his thigh.

Without hesitation, you sat on Miguel's lap. His hands roaming your body once more as he kissed you. As you made out with Miguel, you could faintly see smoke in the city. Why did there have to be trouble now?

"Will you do me this favor?" Miguel whispered in your ear, his hands reaching his crotch.

"M-Miguel," You gasped.

You were folding hard. Ignoring the city, you unzipped Miguel's pants and let him push your head down. There you were, kneeling before Miguel with his dick hard in front of you. This was something you've only dreamed of.

"S-Sorry in advance if...I'm not good," You apologized.

--------

How cute. You looked so shy and innocent as you kneeled before Miguel. His hand rested against your head, motioning you back towards his dick. You had a job to do and another one to ignore. Miguel smirked since you had made your decision.

Gritting his teeth, Miguel resisted a groan as your tongue licked and swirled around his cock. You were so inexperienced, so innocent, so pure...all because you were waiting for him.

Your hands were holding onto Miguel's thighs as you finally took his dick in your mouth. Ah, how good it felt to have you submit to him. Obeying his every whim and need.

"What a good girl, (Y/N), sloppy, but good." Miguel chuckled lowly.

You whined with his dick in your mouth, sending a vibration up Miguel's spine. How fucking tempting you were. You hummed and started to suck on his dick, giving Miguel pleasure. The warmth of your mouth, sending Miguel into a small frenzy.

This was something that Miguel never cared for. Something that was just in the way of his work. If only he knew how good this would feel having you suck him off. Miguel was going to have to get you on your knees more often.

"Mhm!"

"Keep sucking, you're doing so good." Miguel groaned as he pushed your head more.

Miguel tried his best to control himself, but he couldn't help it. His hands moved on their own as he moved your head. You were moaning and whining as you sucked against his dick, rubbing your legs in the process.

--------

Tears formed in the corner of your eyes as you felt Miguel's dick hit the back of your throat. Your panties were soaked and you were desperate for some relief of your own.

Feeling Miguel's dick twitch in your mouth, you knew he was close. You stroked faster and sucked harder, wanting to touch yourself. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't think. Miguel gripped your hair and grunted as he pushed you down, causing you to wince and nearly gag.

"Swallow." He demanded.

You shivered at his tone and flinched as you felt him cum in your mouth. Coughing as Miguel removed his dick, you swallowed hard and started to pant. You felt dazed. Air was finally entering your brain as you stared up at Miguel with lust.

"Good girl, now I believe you deserve an award." Miguel chuckled darkly.

Gasping as Miguel placed you on his desk, you whimpered as he took off your panties.

"Someone's been really patient."

"Mhm, I-I have," You whimpered, your cunt clenching to air.

"But, you'll have to be a little more patient. Just until...I know you deserve the ultimate reward."

You let out a small whine, but gasped as you felt Miguel's fingers against your clit. He spread your legs and watched as you twitched and moaned against his touch. Your body felt like it was on fire, but you wanted more.

Moving your hips, you tried to match Miguel's pace, but he held you down. His fingers moving faster against your clit, causing that burning knot to tighten in your gut. You arched your back, feeling your brain fog up again as you cried his name.

"M-Miggy!" You moaned, cumming hard. Miguel chuckled lowly,

"What did I say about that nickname?" He asked.

"S-Sorry-Ah~" You flung your head back as Miguel inserted two fingers inside you, pumping them deeply, "Ah~ M-Miguel~"

"Now you'll have to wait longer,"

Your vision blurred as you focused on his fingers curling and thrusting inside you. They were so big, much better than your toys. If only Miguel would bully you with his dick instead. You would have to behave more in order to get that reward.

"I-I'll behave, Miguel! Ah~ mhm,~ I promise~!"

-------

Music to his ears. You were breaking so easily for him. Miguel, himself, was tempted to fuck you, but he couldn't. Not yet. He couldn't risk you getting pregnant yet without his own genes enhanced.

"Miguel~" You cried, your body arching once more.

"How sensitive." Miguel whispered as you orgasmed, "That will be enough for today. I do expect more of these...personal destress sessions in the future."

"Mhm....Y-Yes, Miguel," You panted, taking a moment to catch your breathe.

Miguel just chuckled in response as he wiped his hand with a napkin. All he could think about was your so called, 'stamina'. How easy were you to cum and fold from his touch. You were so cute twitching from his fingers alone.

Glancing down at your damp panties that laid on the floor, Miguel just hummed as he picked up them and put them in his lab coat pocket. They were going to be used for his tests later.

"Allow me to take you home. It's been quite a day,"

---------

You hummed to Miguel, finally composing yourself. Your head was still dizzy and your gaze blurred. Your body was still aching and desperate for more, but you had to behave. Behave for Miguel so he could reward you later.

Your gaze shifted from the smoke in the city, back to Miguel. You wanted to please him. To do as he said.

"Thank you,"

Oh, how your super hero days were numbered.

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

Next Chapter

(Still on small hiatus, Final Fantasy is AMAZING!!!!)

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @chaoticlovingdreamer @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi

[anastasiareadsnwrites]

Can I request a Benedict Bridgerton x female reader? Where the reader slightly older than him?

Only way is up (Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader)

Author's note: Hiya, this was certainly exciting to write. Please don't hesitate to request more Bridgerton characters. I am going through a difficult time and some of my fanfics will be coming out later than usual.

Summary:You and Benedict have been hiding that you both have been seeing each other for quite awhile until a little birdie has observed to much to keep it a secret from their mama.

Warning(s):Mild Angst, Fluff, somewhat of family drama, author is sleep deprived, more to be added.

The MAIN Masterlist

The Bridgerton Masterlist

You had always known that getting involved with Benedict Brigerton would be a delicate dance. Since you were slightly older than the man. Not just because of the whirlwind of emotions that accompanied every secret smile or the way your heart raced when he touched your hand under the table. No, it was more than that.

Benedict was not just any man; he was a Bridgerton. And being part of the family meant eyes everywhere-keen, watchful, and always curious.

The two of you had been managing so well, too. Hidden glances, stolen moments, rendezvous under the soft cover of night where you could be yourselves. Free from the prying eyes of high society, free to let your hearts roam wild.

But you knew it couldn't last forever.

One morning, as you were making your way back to the little cafe where you often met Benedict, you noticed something off in the air. You couldn't put your finger on it, but something was brewing, and it wasn't just the fresh batch of coffee. Maybe it was the way people were whispering a little more than usual as you passed by. Or the way Lady Whistledown's latest edition spole of secrets to juicy to remain hidden for long.

Later that evening, as you met Benedict in the gardens of the Bridgertons estate, he looked more troubled than you'd even seen him. His usual playful smirk was gone, replaced with a furrowed brow.

"We've been found out," He murmured, taking your hand in his.

You blinked, heart pounding in your chest. "What do you mean?"

"I overheard Eloise talking to my mother. Apparently, someone-some little birdie-saw us together last week. My mother...she knows something is going on. She's been asking questions."

Your breath hitched. The thought of Lady Violet discovering your secret filled you with dread. Benedict's mother was sharp and protective, and if she knew, it wouldn't take long before the entire ton knew as well.

"What are we going to do?" you asked your voice barely above a whisper.

He looked down at you, a soft determination in his eyes. "We're going to be honest, love. I can't hide you any longer. I don't want to."

Your heart skipped a beat at his words. You had always known this moment might come, but now that it was here, the weight of it felt heavier than you expected.

"Benedict," you whispered, stepping closer to him, "are you sure? What if your mother...what if she doesn't approve? What if the rumors spread? This could ruin everything for you."

Benedict's grip on your hand tightened as he brought it to his lips, brushing a soft kiss over your knuckles. "Let them talk. I've never cared for society's approval, and I certainly don't care now when it comes to you." His voice was steady, filled with certainly that made the anxious knots in your stomach loosen, if only slightly.

You felt the warmth of his touch calm your racing thoughts, but the fear still lingered. "But your family....they're everything to you. I can't be the reason there's tension between you and your mother. I wouldn't forgive myself."

Benedict's brow softened as he gently places a hand on your cheek, forcing you to look directly into his eyes. "You're not causing any tension. I want this-us. I'm not going to let anyone, not even my mother, stand in the way of that. Besides," he smirked, a playful glint returning to his eyes, "if my mother sees how much you mean to me, she'll come around."

You wanted to believe him, but years of navigating high society had taught you to be cautious. People didn't always react as you expected them to. However, looking into Benedict's eyes, filled with a determination you'd rarely seen in him, you couldn't help but feel as flicker of hope. Maybe...just maybe, things could work out.

"When are we going to tell her?" you asked quietly, a tremor in your voice.

He took a deep breath, pulling you into his embrace, his chin resting on the top of your head. "Tomorrow. I'll as her for tea and explain everything. But you won't have to face her alone-I'll be right by your side." The thought of confronting Lady Violet was daunting, but knowing Benedict would be there with you, facing whatever came, brought a sense of calm you hadn't expected.

You closed your eyes, breathing in the familiar scent of him, and for a moment, everything felt right. There were still uncertainties, still doubts, but for now, you allowed yourself to find comfort in the strength of his arms.

***

The next day came faster than you anticipated. Benedict had arranged for the tea with his mother, Violet, in the Bridgerton estate's drawing room, a place you had only visited once before under far less nerve-wracking circumstances. You could hardly sleep the night before, your mind playing out ever possible scenario, from her outright rejection to cautious acceptance. But now, there was no turning back.

Benedict stood beside you as you entered the room, his hand gently resting on your back as Lady Bridgerton looked up from her seat by the fire. She greeted you both with a warm smile, but there was an unmistakable glint of curiosity in her eyes, as though she had been anticipating this moment.

"My dear," she began, motioning for you to sit, "it's always a pleasure to see you. Though, I must say, Benedict has been quite mysterious about this tea. I take it there's something important you wish to tell me?"

You exchanged a glance with Benedict, your heart racing in your chest. He nodded reassuringly, and you took a deep breath.

"Lady Bridgerton, there is something we've been meaning to tell you," you began, your voice more steady than you'd expected. "Benedict and I...we've been seeing each other for some time now. We...care deeply for each other."

Violet's eyes flickered from you to Benedict, her smile softening but not quite disappearing. She was silent for a moment, the tension in the room thick as you waited for her response. When she finally spoke, her voice was calm, measured.

"I see," she said slowly, her eyes now firmly on Benedict. "And you've kept this from me for how long, exactly?"

Benedict shifted beside you, but he didn't flinch. "A few months. We didn't mean to keep it from you, Mother, but we wanted to make sure..."

"That this was real," Lady Violet finished for him, her gaze softening as she looked at the two of you. "I understand."

You blinked in surprise. Her calm reaction was not at all what you had expected. She placed her teacup down and looked at you with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

"My dear," she said, turning her attention back to you, "I only have one request."

You nodded, your heart pounding again. "Anything."

"Make my son happy," she said simply. "That's all I ask."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you realized what she was saying. Lady Violet Bridgerton was giving her blessing.

Benedict beamed beside you, and as he took your hand in his, you knew that the hardest part was behind you. There would still be challenges, still whispers and judgement from society, but with Benedict by your side and his mother's approval, you felt ready to face whatever came next.

Just as you began to relax in the warmth of Lady Violet's approval, a small voice from the doorway caught your attention.

"I knew it!" chirped Hyacinth, Benedict's youngest sister, standing with her hands on her hips and a triumphant smirk on her face. She skipped into the room, eyes gleaming with mischief.

Benedict groaned, rubbing his temples. "Hyacinth..."

"You two were awful at hiding it, you know," she continued, completely ignoring her brother's exasperation. "I saw you sneaking out of the garden together last week, holding hands. And don't even get me started on that longing look at dinner last month!"

You exchanged a nervous glance with Benedict, but Violet chuckled softly. "Hyacinth, you've certainly inherited your siblings' knack for observation."

Hyacinth beamed proudly. "I should write to Lady Whistledown about it!" she teased, before darting off as quickly as she'd arrived, leaving both you and Benedict shaking your heads in disbelief.

"Remind me never to underestimate her again," you whispered, trying not to laugh.

Benedict sighed, pulling you close again. "Welcome to the family, love."