#I just think they should let her be a creature

[vampiricstoryteller]

The Rush

Hey yall! Finally, I have something for y’all! Thanks for being patient, I really hope y’all like this story.

Summary: Annette wasn’t even originally invited to this party. Or. Number one rule when Richter’s around? Do not touch Annette.

This is obviously a bit AU. Annette and Richter are in their early twenties and Edouard hasn’t been turned yet. And also, don’t talk to me about clothing accuracy, I am here to provide smut not history lessons

All mistakes are my own

Read fic on A03 here

Warnings: Explicit smut, swearing, mild violence

Originally, Annette hadn’t been invited to the Aristocratic Ball and she was fine with that; truly she was. She could stay behind and train with Juste, practice magic with Maria, or something. But Richter was going and when he found out she wasn’t he’d given Edouard, who’d been invited to sing, his best puppy dog eyes and that’s how Annette found herself standing at the mouth of a grand ballroom in the most expensive dress she’ll probably ever wear.

Blush pink with lacey off shoulder sleeves and a corset that shimmered when she moved, Annette feels spectacularly out of place. The skirt billowed out around her, throwing her off her center balance and forcing her to murmur apologies any time she tried to get past people.

Annette wants to hate it.

But she’s caught Richter staring at her four times since they’ve arrived, and she is learning that there’s not much else she wants more than his attention.

Whenever Richter is looking at her, Annette feels like she can do anything. He believes in her in a way thats so breathtakingly new and refreshing if she thinks about it too long her head begins to spin.

Her thoughts have just started drifting towards all the times Richter has caught her looking at him when someone behind her clears their throat politely.

Annette turns, expecting Richter’s handsome face but instead she’s met with the sight of a tall blond man holding out a glass of champagne to her.

“A lady as beautiful as yourself should never be without a drink in hand.” He says offering her a charming smile.

Annette blinks twice, momentarily unsure what accepting this man’s drink will mean for her in terms of how the rest of the night goes. She flickers her gaze from the glass to his face two more times before she reaches out and delicately takes the drink.

“Thank you, sir.”

She barely stops herself from making a face as the term of authoritarian rolls off her tongue and the smell of unaltered cotton laps at the back of her nose. Annette takes a few sips of the alcohol to try and wash it away.

“It’s no trouble at all, I’m Thomas Bloodworth, I had to come make your acquaintance as it’s not often I find myself in the company of such a beautiful creature.”

Annette pressed her lip together tightly to hide the snarl that nearly catapults itself onto her face. She tilts the glass back to her lips, letting her eyes search the crowd over the rim.

Where was Richter?

“Are you here alone?”

She looks at the blonde—Thomas— and shakes her head, nodding towards Edouard who stands next to the grand piano, discussing something with the pianist.

“No, I’m a friend of tonight’s entertainment.” She explains calmly.

“Oh really,” His face lights up and he steps closer to her, leaning down into her space. “My brother is the pianist, maybe the four of us could take a trip down to the pub later this evening.”

Annette smiles, trying to subtly shuffle away as she says, “I’m sure my friend will be quite tired once he’s finished singing.”

Thomas takes her excuse in stride, another charming smile spreading across his face and Annette feels annoyance flicker in her chest.

“It’ll be my treat, my brother has a good set up going on with one of the bar keeps, there won’t be a tab.”

“That’s very kind of you to offer,” Annette says flashing a smile as she steps back several inches. “I’m not much for pubs—“

A look of irritation runs through Thomas’s entire body and he snatches hold of her wrist, jostling her to the point some of the champagne sloshes onto the front of her dress.

“Good thing I’m not asking then, isnt it?” He says darkly; his fingers squeezing tightly. “Aren’t you people supposed to do as you’re told?”

Annette grits her teeth, rage erupting in her stomach and barreling up her throat. Her magic sparks in her fingertips and she sucks in a deep breath to begin cursing the man to hell when a new hand slides across her stomach and catches hold of Thomas’s arm.

Annette feels something brush against her back, large and solid. She doesn’t need to turn around to know that Richter has finally gotten to her and the fury she felt moments ago is nothing compared to rage that wavers from him.

“Get your fucking hands off of her.”

Richter’s voice is murderous. His tone draining all the color from Thomas’s face as he attempts to pull his arm out of Richter’s iron grip, releasing Annette as his panic steady grows.

“Now see here, I was only asking if she’d want to go somewhere more accepting of fancy dressed whores.” Thomas huffs, still struggling to break free from Richter. “It’s not like it matters who lays her down, I’m sure we’d all get a turn.”

Annette winces, not because his words hurt her but she knows they’ll send Richter into a rage. She leans back into his chest completely and though Richter accommodates her immediately, he doesn’t take his eyes off Thomas.

“Richter—“ Annette begins only to be cut off by a loud room echoing—

CRACK!

Thomas and Annette both look down at the same time, Richter’s hand has finally squeezed at just the right angle with just the right amount of pressure; and Thomas’s forearm snaps in half like a twig.

Thomas opens his mouth, probably to start screaming but Annette’s hand flies up to her own lips and she hisses, “Shhh!”

Her magic silences him, stitching his mouth closed with invisible string. His eyes widen, practically popping out of his head as he looks at her and Richter in fear. He turns from them quickly, shoving and shouldering his way through the crowds of people; stumbling up the entry way steps and out of sight.

Annette lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding, surprise coursing through her when Richter wraps his arm around her, the hand he used to break Thomas’s arm now rests gently on her stomach.

She looks around, several of the people in close vicinity to them are staring in horror; their mouths agape. Annette shrinks back against Richter even more, an uncomfortable knot forming in her throat.

“Come on,” He flexes his fingers that are resting on her stomach, voice still rough with anger.

“Where are we—?”

Richter doesn’t let her finish, he takes her hand with the one not on her belly and begins guiding her through the crowds. They pass Edouard, who nods in understanding when Richter doesn’t even stop to explain and Annette chooses not to protest when they turn corner after corner and somehow end up in a garden.

The cool breeze of the night air clears the fuzziness in Annette’s head, they walk until the noise of the ballroom is far in the distance and the crickets are their new orchestra. She stays quiet as she walks with Richter, tucked into his side as he stews in his anger.

Eventually they find a bench in front of a tiny pond and Richter leads her over to it without hesitation. They sit together, Richter finally letting Annette out of his personal space; though once she’s settled on the stone bench, he presses his knee to hers despite the layers of her skirt between them.

“Richter….” She says softly, trying to catch his eye.

“I’m sorry.” He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I saw him grab you and then all that shit starting spewing from his mouth, I couldn’t stop myself.”

Annette smiles softly, reaching over and taking his hand closet to her; squeezing it with both of hers.

“Thank you for defending me.” She says sincerely. “You’ll never know how much it means to me.”

“Always,” Richter replies turning his whole body towards her. His face is flushed with desperate determination and something that Annette can’t quite place. “I’ll defend you until the end of time, Annette.”

She lets her head fall back to laugh slightly. “That’s a long promise, Richter.”

“And you’re worth every single second.” He says with a firm nod.

Annette clicks her tongue, looking around the garden to avoid the intensity of Richter’s gaze. The pond they’ve sat in front of is still, save for a frog that floats on a lily pad watching them. She can feel Richter watching her, his eyes practically burning through her soul and Annette’s heart begins to thump loudly in her chest.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Richter asks quietly, his hand turning over in hers so he can grip her forearm gently and inspect her wrist.

“No, I was just surprised and I froze.” Annette explains, though she doesn’t stop him as he turns her arm different ways and holds it closer to his face. “His insults were mediocre at best.”

“I should have made him apologize.” Richter grumbles darkly.

“Richter,” Annette chides, biting her lip to keep from smiling. “He wasn’t worth it.”

“But you are,” Richter emphasizes, a hint of frustration in his tone. “Annette no one should ever speak to you like that, I won’t allow them to.”

She doesn’t know what’s changed in Richter in the last hour or so but Annette’s stomach flips with excitement every time they meet eyes. There’s a wildness to him right now, a need in his eyes that begs Annette to understand what he’s trying to silently tell her.

He returns his attention to her wrist, gently prodding a few places with two fingers. When she doesn’t indicate that any of them are painful, Richter lifts her arm to his mouth and kisses the skin of her inner wrist twice.

Annette bites her lip, turning her body towards him. Only to grimace a bit when the wet spot of her corset rubs uncomfortably against her skin. Richter’s eyes flicker down to the stain, air blowing through his nose in an aggressive huff.

“I’m sorry about your dress,” he says remorsefully, lowering their joined hands back down to her lap. “I should have gotten to you sooner, before he had the chance to touch you.”

He sighs, then smiles and says. “You still look gorgeous tonight.”

Annette’s face warms, a smile tugging at her lips. “Thank you Richter,” She looks him over once, mouth running dry at the way his biceps stretch the sleeves of his suit jacket. “You clean up nicely too.”

Slowly, Annette raises Richter’s hand that she’s clutching with both of hers. She presses the back against her cheek, nuzzling her nose and lips to the rough skin for a moment and smiling at Richter’s sharp intake of breath.

“Annette.”

She looks up at him through her lashes, unwilling to lift her face away from its contact with his skin. They stare at each other, Richter’s mouth slightly open in what Annette thinks might be awe.

Tentatively, he turns his hand in her grip, opening his palm so he can cup her face. His thumb traces long paths from under her eye and down the bridge of her nose twice, when she smiles at him and it’s clear she’s not going to stop him; Richter pulls Annette into a kiss.

Her stomach does another flip, Annette’s hands fisting in the lapels of his jacket as she kisses him back with everything she’s got. She’s been waiting for this, she realizes, for weeks.

Richter wraps his free arm around her waist and tugs her so close there’s less space between their torsos than there is between her and the corset she’s in. He bites at her bottom lip, a stream of words tumbling out of his mouth between kisses.

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, Annette.” His tongue sweeps across her bottom lip. “No one compares to you and they never will. You’re everything I could ever want.”

She whimpers, fire burning in her veins and heating her skin while her hands raking through Richter’s hair to find a good handful to twist her fingers in. His hand on her face smooths down her neck, over her collarbone and across the corset; Richter breaks the kiss to glance between when his fingers met the closures of her wide skirt.

“We need more room.” He says, his voice sounding hoarse.

Annette gets the hint, and she agrees, her mind already having thought about getting rid of the contraption long before they sat on this bench. She nudges his hand out of the way, working the clasps open with an expert flick of her fingers.

“Help me stand?” She asks Richter, gathering some of the skirt and pre lifting it so she won’t be unceremoniously dragged to the ground when it falls.

Richter grips her by the shoulders, standing with her when Annette gives him the go head. His rough hands on her bare skin makes Annette’s legs shake and she bites her lip hard to focus on the task at hand. The under wiring of the fabric hits the ground with a thump and Annette lets the skirt itself follow not too long after. She steps out of the mess, feeling exposed but free in her long breeches and corset. She looks up to meet Richter’s eyes, struck by how deeply he is looking at her and everything around them fades away.

His eyes are blown wide, the bright blue seemingly on fire as they run along her body and back up to her face. Richter licks his bottom lip, squeezes her shoulders and kisses her again; his tongue hot and demanding as they stumble back to the bench and Richter sits, pulling Annette into his lap.

“Richter.”

He grins, his lips molded against hers so tightly that him smiling forced her to do the same. Annette shifts, letting her knees straddle his hips and her arms wrap around his neck.

Dropping her full weight into his lap, Annette shudders at how solid Richter is and how safe she feels when he spreads both hands along her body to keep her close.

Her lungs scream for air, the burning in them reminding her that while kissing Richter is life changing and she hopes to be doing it a lot more; there won’t be a life to change if she doesn’t take a breath.

Annette breaks the kiss, moaning when Richter’s mouth immediately chases after hers and his fingers tighten on her waist to keep her from getting too far.

Her name ghosts across his lips, his head falling forward a bit and while Annette greedily breathes deep; Richter plants soft kisses along her collarbone. His nose cold when it brushed along the base of her throat.

“Richter.” She whimpers, his lips finding a particularly sensitive spot in the space where her neck and shoulder meet. The sensation sends bolts of lightning straight to her hips, to her core; making her buck in search of friction.

“I’m here, Annette.” He murmurs into her skin, his fingers pressing into her shoulder blades as if she’s a bowl of liquid gold to be savored. “I’m here and I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”

She preens, scratching at his scalp and grinding her hips down; pleased with herself when Richter shudders.

He squeezes her sides against, kissing the tip of her nose. “I have an idea.”

Annette tilts her head curiously, seeing mischief flash across Richter’s pretty face. He lifts her with ease, moving her to sit astride his thigh and Annette’s brain goes blank when the pressure of his bulky thigh between her legs is exactly what she’d been seeking out since they first embraced. She wants to sob, she wants to scream and—

“Is that better baby?” Richter asks so low that Annette almost doesn’t hear him.

Her lower back tingles, choking a moan out of her heaving chest; her breasts threatening to spill from the top of the corset at any second.

Richter smiles at her, his eyes intently watched face as one hand grips her ass and the other plants on hip. He kisses the corner of her mouth, only pulling back enough to brush their noses together and then at the same moment, rocks her hips down on his tensed thigh.

The sound Annette makes isn’t human, it falls into Richter’s ears like the first time an Angel’s voice was heard and the air around them heats up to an almost unbearable point.

He moves her hips twice more, a grin tugging on his lips when the third thrust is made by her and her alone. Her hands scratch her the back of his neck, eyes fluttering with each roll of her hips.

“R-Richter…” her bottom lip trembles.

“You’re doing great, Annette.” He encouraged, leaning forward and placing sweet kisses across her heaving cleavage. “Take what you need, baby.”

Despite the heat that spreads through her face, Annette doesn’t need to be told twice. Her hips pick up the rhythm they nearly lost, rolling and grinding against Richter’s thigh.

It’s not long before Annette’s panting, practically bouncing on him to keep applying pressure on her soaking clit; her undergarment has long since acquired a wet spot but she can’t be bothered to care.

Richter’s hands return her hips, helping her by tugging, pushing and dragging her hips back and forth on his thigh. He bows his head, groaning as he bites and suckles at the way her corset presents her bosom to him, the ample flesh jiggling with every movement.

Annette can’t hear much beyond the sound of her own whines and Richter’s grunts that seem to coincide with each curl of her hips. Her head falls forward, her arms cradling Richter to her chest and her gaze drifts down to where her knee rubs at Richter’s cock through his suit pants.

Biting her lip, Annette whimpers at the thought that her grinding against Richter’s thigh has gotten him to this point. It’s one of the last coherent thoughts she has as Richter’s hands on her hips change the rhythm in which she grinds on his thighs and stars explode in Annette’s eyes.

“You’re doing so good Annette.” Richter mumbles, placing wet kisses to her neck. “Doing so good for me, pretty girl.”

Her orgasm sneaks up on her, she suspects Richter’s endless terms of endearment have more to do with it than he realizes but she can only open her mouth to shout an intelligible mess of curses as she clenches her thighs and cums. A sob of desperation clawing out of her as her cunt pulses around nothing, her ears ringing violently.

Richter holds onto her, moving his lips across whatever parts of her sweaty skin he can reach.

She feels him shake against her, the hardness hidden by the dark fabric of his pants silently promising that there can be more if she wishes it.

And she does.

“Richter,” Her voice is breathless and light, twinkling out of her mouth as she lets her head fall back and shakes with aftershocks.

He bites her collarbone, one hand skimming down her back.

“Still trust me?” He asks.

Annette nods, biting her lip as she holds his gaze. “Of course I trust you, Richter.”

He grins, lifting her from his thigh but instead of rearranging her into his lap, Richter gets to his feet. He holds her by the waist, the toes of her fancy shoes inches from the ground as if she weights no more than a gathers basket of apples.

Annette looks up at him, her eyebrows raising when he sets her feet to the ground slowly and then turns her by her shoulders, bringing her back to his front.

She glances down, the edge stone bench brushes just above her knee and a new wave of heat starts to rebuild in her lower belly.

Richter wraps one arm across her ribs, pinning her back against him while his other hand tilts her head to the side and his lips find hers. His hand at her hip tucks two fingers in front of her breeches where they’re tied closed with string.

He hesitates for a second, breaking their kiss to stare at her, his blue eyes gazing at her with such pure revere that Annette wants to hide away from him but never let him look at anything other than her again.

“Here,” she says softly.

Her hips push up against his, her ass rubbing seductively against his still clothed cock as she bends at the waist until the tips of her fingers come in contact with the cold stone of the bench.

Richter’s hand grip her hips, his thumbs massaging the skin between the corset and undergarment. Steadying herself, Annette quickly unties the string of the breeches and lets them fall down to her ankles.

Above her, Richter groans.

“Annette, you’re going to be the end of me.” He hisses.

She looks over her shoulder at him, smiling prettily as she teases,

“We better hurry up then, you’re not allowed to die until you’ve been inside me.”

Richter splays one hand on her lower back, fingers hooking in the ribbons of the corset while his other hand pops the button on his dress pants and tugs down the zipper.

Annette pushes her hips back impatiently, a voice in her mind reminding her the party will over soon and the garden more than likely be flooded with inebriated people. She wants to be long gone and in Richter’s bed by then.

“I need you Richter,” she whines, bringing herself back to the present and looking at him again.

He rolls his hips into hers again, this time though all the barriers have finally been removed and the hot, soft skin of his cock bumping against her soaked pussy nearly buckles Annette’s knees.

She closes her eyes when she finally feels the mushroom head searching for her entrance, Annette twists her hips up and back; a shout falling from her mouth when Richter’s cock slides into her in one long stroke.

Stars burst behind her eyelids, her fingers curling around the hard stone edge of the bench as she pushes her hips up higher in an attempt to take Richter even deeper.

“Fuck, baby.” He breathes. “You’re so—so tight.”

Annette shakes, clenching around his thick girth as she begs,

“Please Richter, please move.”

He chuckles, breath labored as he fights to hold onto his last bit of sanity. His fingers tighten in the laced up ribbon, his own personal pair or reigns and his feet nudge her legs wider.

“You’re ready pretty girl?” Richter asks, and without waiting for to answer he drags his cock back until only the tip is left inside of her.

He pauses, just long enough for her to suck in a breath of protest at his snail like pace before yanking on the ribbons at her back and slamming deep down into her.

His pace is punishing.

His hips pounding bruises into her, watching in lustful awe as her ass bounces and jiggles with each of his thrusts, her pussy coating his cock with her essence as he fucks into her like a man dying of thirst.

The sound of their skin slapping together fills the garden, over powering the crickets and falling into harmony with Annette’s moans of mind numbing pleasure. Her tone climber higher and higher until she suddenly shrieks, her back arching hard and her cunt spasming around him.

“Richter! Richter! RICHTER!”

Her nails scratch at the bench and he pulls her up, wrapping one arm over her shoulders to keep her back to his chest as he fucks her through her orgasm.

“You take my cock so well, Annette.” He growls into her head. “You were made for me.”

“Yes. Yours! I’m yours Richter!” She sobs, her head lulling back against his shoulders.

He pumps into her until the last very possible moment, holding his breath as he wrings two more moans from her before jerking his hips back far enough to pull out of her.

Annette’s hand smacks his own away as she takes hold of his glistening cock and twists her hand from the head to the base.

She kisses his chin, her teeth nipping at it when she murmurs,

“I really wanna see you cum, Richter.” The tip of her tongue glides across his lip. “Please cum for me Richter.”

The coil in his lower spine finally snaps. He pulses in her hands grunting as ropes of cum spurt from him and land on her thigh and hip.

“Oh fuck, Annette.” Richter groans, pulling her into a rough kiss thats all tongue and teeth.

They slump against each other, Richter holding the majority of Annette’s weight as they both try to return their breathing to normal. They’re slow to pull apart, but the distant sounds of the party expanding eventually forces them clean up and redress as best they can.

Richter gives Annette his suit jacket, buttoning it closed for her after she rights her undergarments and the skirt though she chooses to leave the wiring where it lay in the pebbled ground.

They hold hands and occasionally kiss as they walk back through the garden, around the side of the massive mansion and down the long gravel pathway.

Edouard is waiting for them, just outside the gate and he only smiles knowingly when he assures them he hasn’t been there long and that the party still has hours to go.

“I knew after you got Richter to calm down you’d both be ready to go home.” Edouard explains with a shrug.

Annette makes sure to squeeze his hand in thanks on the journey back to Tera’s.

The End

🫣you made it to the end lol I hope y’all enjoyed this one for real, let me know what you think please like and reblog!

[baroquepoultry]

found a brush that looks like feather texture. You know what that means.

[bogkeep]

saw some lego dinosaurs today :3

[organised-disaster]

Picrews of Inessa because I've forgotten how to draw and want to make SOMETHING while I watch 817 tutorials and practice

And here are the picrews (in no particular order)

[procrastaenating]

Reading The Elusive Pimpernel, having to watch Marguerite not only be selfish, but also fall spectacularly for Chauvelin's machinations yet again, despite everything she's been through already with him. And for what? To make her look bad so Blakeney rises like a prince?

[abyssembraced]

Making You the Patron Saint of Something

Patron Saint of Creation

Patron saint of explosions. Patron saint of More. Patron saint of something new entirely. Something unfamiliar, something you can't recognize. Was Frankenstein's monster an abomination or had his like just never been seen before? You're the patron saint of all those new, beautiful things. You're the patron saint of the monsters, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Patron Saint of Bones

Patron saint of frameworks. Of structures. Of solidity. Patron saint of things that break. Patron saint of things that are left behind. The bones survive long after the body, the building: what is there left for them, when the rest is gone? What do bones do, with nothing to hold around them? Who holds the bones?

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tagged by: @distrxst (thank you!)

Tagging: Back at it again with tagging Everyone <3 And again, if you have multiple rp blogs, absolutely feel free to do it for one other than the one I tagged!! @bladesfromthedark , @legalbrats , @tazmilyxfamily , @pri-rp , @hopeful-hugz , @quillheel , @musescfmusic , @interdimensional-ship

[courageisneverforgotten]

snow white looks bad this, moana 2 that. the real question is who in the world wanted a live action mufasa or lilo and stitch movie

[pynkhues]

sorry to use your ask box as a safe space forum but i just wanna say i totally get what you and the anon meant about sam's scar being inexplicable intriguing and appealing. i'm not sure how other fan artists feel about it but for me personally it always brings me such joy to subtly enhance that corner of his mouth to signify the scar. i love when a beautiful face has recognizable details like that. it almost makes him him in a way that it feels like sliding in the final piece of the puzzle to recreate the perfect lestat despite it being sth that's purely just sam

Hahah, I'm always happy to be a safe space, and I love that you incorporate it into your art. It really is so evocative and like you said, recognisable details like that I think only enhance beauty. It's a shame so many people don't see it that way, or try to minimise details like that.

[quietwingsinthesky]

the thing you need to know about me is that i'm always replaying the last unicorn in my head. and right now i'm thinking.

Sam letting Lucifer out of the Cage 🤝 the unicorn and the harpy

[robinsnest2111]

tfw I find out that some problematic behaviours, thoughts, and urges I experience when in a stressful/triggering situation are actually considered black and white thinking

hmm. interesting. I wasn't aware that that's what I'm doing.

[waywardsalt]

maybe the endgame for the friendship between bellum and link is that they end up thinking the other is kinda cool

[sonolynn]

Forbidden Fruit

summary | Jace didn't want her, but Aemond did.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

tags | 18+ MDNI, Jealously, Aemond yearning, explicit sexual content, mentions of bastards, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, size kink (?), oral f!receiving, Angst if you squint. "Technical" infidelity but is it really if Jace started it? (yes). ooc!Aemond (probably). NOT PROOF READ (its one am, leave me alone).

w.c | 3.8k

note(s) | My first smut fic!! Ah I'm scared...I also think I have a problem with making Aemond want fem!reader when he rightfully can't have her. Also I swear I'm not a Jace hater!! I love Jace, but in this fic specifically I made him long and wish for Baela.

____________________________________________

“Why don’t you marry her then?” 

Aegon’s voice was taunting, as if pushing Aemond to say something. Aemond stared down at the cup in front of him; even with a stoic expression, his mannerisms betrayed him. He tapped his finger against the edge of the cup, he picked at the skin around his nails on the opposite hand-all the tell tale signs of thinking, a mind that cannot be stopped. 

“Because she is betrothed to Rhaenyra’s bastard.” His voice dripped with malice as he spoke. Aemond hated that Jacerys would inherit the throne enough; What his bastard nephew didn’t need was the girl Aemond had wished for his entire life. Ever since the two of them were children Aemond had a…weird infatuation with her. When he was a boy, he would pick flowers from the garden and he would purposely do good deeds for her, just to have her hug him or smile graciously at him. 

But now, everything was different. She was a woman grown, and him a man grown. She was to be engaged to his bastard nephew, and he would have to sit and watch as they shared a kiss, held hands, smiled and danced as newlyweds. He’d have to hold a straight face as the two of them left to Jacerys’ bed chamber, only knowing the connotations that came with what would happen on their wedding night. 

Ignoring his brother's tedious rants about hells knows what, Aemond stood from his chair, opting for a walk in the gardens.

____________________________________________

Aemond walked, hands clasped behind his back, and his gaze drifted into nothingness as he walked with just his thoughts, and the cool breeze that accompanied the summer evenings. He tried to distract himself from the thoughts of her, for they were all almost too painful to ever truly think about. 

But he couldn’t help himself. He thought of her as a sickness, one that lingered and grew stronger by the day until it fully consumed your every waking moment. He thought of her laugh just as contagious as the plague, her eyes as intoxicating as the finest of wines. He thought her to be a type of sickness, and he so desperately wanted to be affected. 

Aemond was never one to smile-one to truly-smile, his half smirks or half smiles were only ever in a sarcastic sense, but for some reason his smiles were real with her. With her he laughed a little more, with her he walked a little faster. He knew it was stupid, perhaps perpetually idiotic-to ever think, let alone long for such a pure and innocent creature. 

As Aemond walked, he noticed her sitting by one of the fountains in the garden. She looked breathtaking, he thought to himself. Her hair was down and cascaded down her shoulders, her face was just the perfect amount of shaded with the moon's light. And above all, she held that intoxicating smile that she always held. He never knew why she was always smiling, nor did he wish to find out. 

She turned her head, her smile widening at the sight of Aemond. 

“Aemond!” Her voice was cheerful, slowly standing as he walked towards her. 

“Princess,” Aemond smiled-a half smile-at her as he looked around, then slowly back at her. “It’s quite late. Should you not be in your chambers?” 

She always thought the way he cared for her, even if he didn’t show it outright, was extremely enticing. She knew how he was with others, but she knew the differences he had with almost everyone in court-so what made her so different? Why her, the object of the second son's affection. 

“Perhaps I do not wish to sleep. Perhaps…I quite like the quietness of the garden.” She smiled innocently, looking back towards the fountain as she started to walk. Aemond knew her well enough to see that this was a quiet plea for him to join her; Because no matter how much she enjoyed the quietness of the garden, she enjoyed it much more when he was with her. 

Aemond stared at her, as he often did, but this time, it was different. The stare he held was nothing short of primal. He watched the light in her eyes as she smiled up at him and for some reason, now, he wished to watch as the innocent light in her eyes slowly dwindled as he claimed her. 

“Aemond? Is something wrong?” Her voice snapped his thoughts back, if only for a moment. She stopped walking to look up at him and she crossed her arms underneath her chest. His eye trailed down slowly, fixating on the way that her cleavage just slightly out of her dress. He was like a man starved; Clinging to the littlest of details that would make his imagination run wild. 

She seemed to notice the way that his eye raked over her chest like a starving man, and her face flushed with embarrassment. She-though subconsciously-reached up to place her arm over her chest, but to her surprise, Aemond gently took her hand, and when she looked up, his one sapphire eye was locked with hers. 

“You needn’t cover up. Not around me.” He spoke calmly, though his heart was racing and his head spinning. He let out a shaky breath as he lowered her hand and looked into her eyes. 

She watched him carefully, searching his gaze for anything that would betray him. In truth she didn’t know what she was searching for, but she felt as if she should be searching for something. 

Aemond lifted a hand, placing the back of his knuckles against her hot cheek. The gesture was gentle, and slow, something he was not known for. His eye slowly trailed down her face, and his eye caught on her lips, his breath heavy as he reached his hand up and gently placed his thumb over her plush bottom lip. 

Her eyes followed his, big, and full of longing. She stared at him as his thumb pushed against her lip. She didn’t know exactly what to do; She knew that this moment was intimate, far too intimate to be happening between a betrothed woman and a bachelor. But, the way he gazed at her made her feel hot, and the way he trailed his hand over her face and body made her want to see where this could lead. 

His free hand shakily went up to her waist, cupping it firmly as he brought her closer. He leaned forward, just slightly, till his nose was pressed against hers. Her breath hitched, and her eyes instinctively closed. She waited for him to press his lips against hers, to feel his mouth on hers like she had (shamefully) always wished for. But, it never came. 

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Aemond breathing heavily, desperately trying to restrain himself. He pulled away slightly, and he shook his head,

“I shouldn’t take advantage of you…not like this.” Though his words held conviction, it seemed his body betrayed him. His hand stayed on her waist, slowly trailing up and cupping her breast in his hand. She gasped softly at the feeling, and his thumb went to her lip again before he connected his lips to hers. She responded immediately, putting her hands on his arms. 

He kissed her like he was dying, his body subconsciously reacting more to the kiss then he’d wish it to. He pulled her flush against him, his strong hands coming to cup her face, his shoulders shrugging in a futile attempt to have her closer. He opened his mouth, causing her to gasp at the feeling of his tongue against hers. Her mouth moved with his as if it was known to her; As if this was a dance she had practiced for years to perfect, as if the dance of her lips was a song that Aemond had mastered just for her. 

She practically melted in his arms. She had been kissed before; Jace was a good kisser but he was soft, and the kisses were never not chaste. But, kissing Aemond was like walking through fire. Her entire body reacted to the way he clung to her body, how he pulled her impossibly closer. It was like a fire had escaped through his lips and was now coursing through her veins and settling in her abdomen. 

Even though she didn’t know exactly what to do, it seemed her body did. Her hands slid down his arms and slowly made their way to his chest as she moaned softly. 

The moan grounded him, like he had been falling from the heavens and down to earth. He suddenly pulled away, breathless as he stared down at her. Her eyes opened steadily, and she looked up at him with confusion while a frown graced her kiss swollen lips. 

“We shouldn’t have done that.” He spoke breathlessly, his hand still gently stroking her side. 

“Maybe not..but it felt good.” Gods, the way she spoke held him in a chokehold. He wished desperately to dive back into her; To drown in her lips and never come up for air, but.. 

“Not again. You are to be married.” He suddenly pulled away and at the feeling of his hands leaving her body, she frowned deeper. 

“Aemond-” “Goodnight, Princess.” 

And with that, the prince turned and rushed back into the keep. 

____________________________________________

Aemond couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in bed, picking at his nails, biting his lip-genuinely anything to help stop the incessant thoughts of her lips. 

The thoughts started off sweet and innocent. The way she looked up at him as he trailed his thumb over her lip, the way her lips pursed just slightly when he leaned forward. 

But then the thoughts got venereal fast. He thought about how he felt to finally kiss her. The way his lips practically burned when they pulled away. He knew that as he gazed at her kiss swollen lips his night would be harbored with thoughts of what they’d look like doing gods knows what else. 

His hand slid down underneath the sheets, firmly grasping at his length as he let out a shuddering breath. He hated doing this; Feeling so pent up and so desperate that he had to resort to using himself. But as of right now he couldn’t care less. 

He imagined her lips around his cock, her innocent eyes gazing up into his. He’d imagine the way she’d gag around him, how her lips would look kissing the head of his cock. 

He groaned at the thought, his head tipping back as he closed his eye and let his thoughts wander more. He’d think about how she’d look with his seed covering her lips and her chin, how she’d moan his name as he devoured her between her legs-

He peaked with a gasp, and a low moan of her name. The minute his orgasm washed over him, and he started to slowly come down, he felt an intense feeling of guilt, shame, but most of all pain. 

Guilt and shame because he hated himself for touching himself to someone who couldn’t be his. 

Pain because she’d never be his. Pain because he knew that no matter what he did, she’d still be betrothed to Jacerys. 

____________________________________________

The next morning, she sat alone at breakfast, supposedly liking it more that way. With her fiance practically ignoring her, and her father too entranced with kissing the king's ass, she learned to enjoy the solitude of just…nothing. 

Plus, she always had her thoughts. Even if they were only occupied with Aemond. 

She played around with the food on her plate as her mind trailed. She remembered the way he kissed her, how he held her. She felt happy, something she so rarely felt with Jacerys. 

She knew how he felt, how he longed for and wished for Baela. She did not blame him, she was beautiful, but she also didn’t feel sad, which, at a point did bother her but, not so much. 

At least, not after last night. 

She smiled to herself as she thought about the kiss, wishing that he would do it again, longing for the way the heat escalated through her body. 

She didn’t register the voice next to her until it spoke her name. 

She looked up, surprised. But, when her eyes met with Aemond’s, her heartbeat quickened, and she smiled. 

“Aemond.”

“You’re not hungry?”

“What?” “You’re not eating.” “Oh,” Her cheeks flushed red for a reason unbeknownst to her, and with a soft huff, she pushed the plate away, “It seems as though I have lost my appetite.” 

Aemond looked concerned at that, and he looked down at her. Despite himself, he found himself worrying yet again for her comfort, her needs. 

“Is something the matter?” She shakes her head, but for some reason, Aemond was persistent. “If this is about what happened last night, then I should apologize-” 

“Apologize?” She interrupted, sitting up straighter at the mention of the word. “Why?” 

“Yes…apologize. Because we should not have done that-”

“But I wanted it to happen.” 

Aemomd stopped and he slowly looked towards her. His eye pierced into hers as if to read every thought and emotion that crossed her brain. He just simply couldn’t believe her. 

“You shouldn’t say things you do not mean, Princess.”

“You don’t know that I don’t mean it.”

“Princess-”

“Aemond.” She said his name as if to challenge him, and he knew that he truly could never challenge her. He saw it in her eyes, he saw by the way she looked at him and smiled that she wished for him just as he wished for her. But these feelings-these blockages-would only cause unnecessary trouble. 

“Please, do not give me a hope that cannot be upheld.” Her heart broke a little at that, and, as he stood to leave, she instinctively stood with him, taking his wrist in her hand as she pulled on his arm. As if the small gesture would stop him from walking, (it did). 

“Aemond please..You do not know what I wish for.” 

His lip curled down into a small frown as he looked at her. He knew what she felt-at least he thought he did-but even if his suspicions were right, even if she did wish for him like how he longed for her, he couldn’t. He may dislike, perhaps even hate his nephew, but he was better than stealing his fiance. 

Right?

“We cannot. To be with you would disgrace your family and the alliance-” 

“Fuck the alliance!��� She swore, her eyes boring into his as she studied his face. “Fuck the alliances Aemond, I wish for you. Desperately, I wish for you. Jace does not see me like how you do. Jace does not make me feel the way that you do-”

“It does not matter if Jace makes you happy or if he makes you feel desired-” “He does not wish for me as you do!”

“Princess-” “You do not understand! We are speaking of breaking it off. Neither of us wish for this.” Aemond went quiet at this and he sighed heavily, turning his full body towards her. He pried his arm away from her, staring at her incredulously, his body language giving no open window to how he was truly feeling. With no words coming from him, she continued. 

“I love you.” At those words Aemond showed his shock. He took a step back from her and he raised an eyebrow. 

“You do not mean-”

“Oh for the love of-Yes! I mean it! I love you, Aemond! I love you as if it is breathing! Instinctively, not thinking about it….I love you.” 

Aemond couldn’t hold it anymore, he walked to her and gripped her face tightly, her cheeks squishing slightly in his grasp as he smashed his lips against hers. She initially was shocked at the sudden kiss, but she kissed him back fiercely, holding his wrists as she leaned up to kiss him deeper. 

He led her back until he pressed her back against the table, holding her thighs as he pushed her onto the table. His body fit perfectly in between her thighs, just like he imagined it would. His hands gripped her thighs, one of his hands traveling up, feeling and savoring the soft skin as he groaned. 

She pulled away from the kiss to leave small kisses along his jaw. He bit his lip at the feeling, the action presumably so innocent and so sweet it almost made him chuckle. 

He pulled back slightly, his gaze intense and lust filled as his hand trailed underneath her breasts. 

“Tell me to stop.” He demanded. His head was spinning with the lust that clouded it. He waited for her to push him away, or to whimper a soft “I do not think myself ready”- But she shook her head, bringing his head back to hers swiftly to connect their lips in another passionate kiss. 

He pulled away from the kiss, groaning to himself as he left hot, open mouthed kisses against her jaw and neck. He looked down, his breath heavy as he stared down into her cleavage. He wished for nothing more than to rip her dress open and kiss every inch of her body, but being in the dining room came with its disadvantages. So, he settled for kissing her cleavage, before trailing his lips down the fabric of her dress till he came to her thighs.

Aemond pushed her dress up as far as he could, staring at her the whole time. He slowly pushed her thighs about, giving her time to stop him but she never did. Gently kissing the inner side of her thigh, he tried to reassure her. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes; The way she looked at him with both anxiety and lust. He stared up at her searching for any sign or signal that would make him stop. 

“Is this okay?” Once he saw the light nod of her head, he disappeared underneath her dress. 

She had never been intimate with a man-courtesy of her father, enforcing the “Women should be pure” melodramatic speech into her head ever since she could stand. She always thought it to be a chore, only having heard stories from unhappy married women who hated their husbands, and much less disliked their children a little less, but this? This was exciting, this felt good. 

She placed a hand on his head, moaning his name under her breath as he ate her like a beast. His hands gripped her thighs as if to ground himself-He had tasted women before but for some reason she was so much sweeter, so much more divine. His eyes practically rolled back just from pushing his tongue into her heat, sucking gently on her flit before he pulled away slightly, focusing his attention on her clit as he dipped a finger inside of her. 

The sudden stretch made her jump, and gasp loudly. She may have pleasured herself before but it really never felt like what Aemond was doing to her. He eased his finger in slowly, dragging it back out, and then slowly pushing it back in. Hearing the moans that graced her lips, he continued the slow thrust of his finger for a moment before he added another one. 

She let out a loud moan, a hand on the back of his head as she pushed his head closer to her heat. She felt him chuckle against her, the vibrations only adding to the pleasure. She moaned loudly, perhaps too loudly for comfort, but Aemond only seemed to want more of those noises to come from her. 

He slowly curled his fingers, his mouth praising her clit. The added pressure with the curl of his fingers, and the sucking of her clit made her eyes squeeze shut. 

“Oh gods Aemond, I’m going to-” Just as her orgasm was going to consume her, it stopped. With her heavy breathing, and slightly shaky legs, she slowly sat up. Aemond smirked up at her, holding her gaze as he nipped at her inner thighs. “You stopped..” 

“Yes. Because if you are going to peak it should be on my cock.” 

Her face flushed at the words, and she stared at him with wide eyes as he pulled his trousers down slightly to free his throbbing cock. As their eyes met, he seemed to notice the slight anxiety in her eyes, because he pressed his forehead against hers and lined himself up with her entrance. 

“Tell me to stop if it hurts too much.” She nodded in response, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders as he pushed into her. She let out a gasp; The feeling was new, discomfiting but..new. Her face scrunched up at the stretch, and Aemond shushed her quietly as he started to move. After a few thrusts, her body relaxed, and she started to moan his name. 

Hearing his name fall from her lips was like a prayer answered, like a lifelong dream he had been waiting for. He grunted as he started to rock his hips back and forth into her slowly. It took everything inside of him to not pound into her, to fuck her like he had fantized about. He wished that her father could see her now, her maidenhood gone and her body fully submitting to the pleasure he so gracefully gave her. 

“Aemond..Aemond oh gods-” Her voice broke as he went faster, her moans only getting louder. She tried to wrap her mind around the pleasure he was giving her, the way his hips moved slowly yet deeply, the way the tip of his thick cock rubbed against the spot so deliciously. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she held him close to her. 

One of his hands was on her thigh, the other on the table as he thrusted into her, as if holding the edge of the table would stop the creaking sounds, or the way she moaned his name, or how his groans got louder as his climax approached. 

White splattered her vision as her orgasm washed over. She cried out his name in pleasure, holding him close as his legs trapped him inside of her. The feeling of her core pulsating and tightening made Aemond’s head spin, and he grunted out a moan of her name as he came himself, spilling his seed inside of her. 

As the two sat there, basking in the afterglow of being intimate, neither of them would move for what felt like hours. Even though the position that they were in was compromising, they smiled, and laughed softly at the situation itself. 

Once they both got cleaned up-the best they could get cleaned up for just having sex on the dining room table-Aemond took her hand. She smiled softly at Aemond, her heart racing in a new, and exciting way. The two stared at each other for a while, trying to wrap their minds around the fact that now, they could truly be together, or at least, now, they had a hope that they could be together.

____________________________________________

[clockwayswrites]

5 Times the JL Learned Batman was Married and the 1 Time They Met the Spouse.

One.

Diana let herself fall heavily onto one of the couches in the watchtower. She stretched out along the blue surface far enough so that she could rest her feet, recently freed of her boots, on the edge of the coffee table. As much as she much preferred organically curved surfaces, there was something comfortable about the rectangular flat back of the couch and the way she could rest her arms against it and stretch out in one long line from her biceps to her fingertips. The ache in her muscles were the reward of a well fought battle.

She tipped her head to the side, watching her champion in arms come and go to their various post battle destinations. Some went to Medbay, some went temporary quarters, and others went to discuss and debate the results of the battle.

Unexpectedly, Batman lingered for a moment. He sat down on a couch near hers, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees and run his hands along the side of his cowl and down the back of his neck. It was hard to remember, out there on the field of battle and victory, that Batman was just a mortal man. He was no God, no alien, no creature of great might. Batman was just a man.

But what a specimen he was.

“If you are in need of help unwinding your muscles , I am sure that we can find some more pleasant ways to take care of that,” Diana said with a quirk of her lips and a brow.

Batman looked up at her pausing just long enough that she thought that maybe she had actually surprised him. She was surprised herself when the faintest hint of a smile turned up Batman's lips.

“Hn. I'm afraid my partner isn't one for sharing. I don't think the Earth would survive a battle between you two,” he said. The hint of amusement in his voice was barely there, but Diana was starting to learn how to read her new friend.

She tipped her head back against the couch in laughter. “Of course you would already be claimed by one so formidable. I should like to meet them.”

The sudden quiet and dangerous readiness in the room was almost tangible.

She softened her words. “Should they ever wish to. But go now home to them, Batman, and let them work out your kinks and aches.”

Batman snorted softly, but stood. Diana thought that he would leave without saying anything, and regretted her earlier misstep. Of course the man would be protect of one he held so dear as to call his. She was surprised, then, when he paused just before leaving.

“They don’t need the encouragement,” he said, words quiet and for her only. Quiet and once again just barely amused.

Diana tipped her head back again in laughter. Yes, she would like to meet them someday.

[deadsetobsessions]

Fae adjacent! Danny, pt. 3

Jason returns to consciousness with a scream trapped before it could come to life. He twisted his neck back and forth and back and forth.

It was the last thing he did before he died. When the Joker left and told him to say hello to the big guy, Jason could not muster up the energy to make a single sound.

But Bruce… Bruce was here this time, heavy head making the mattress by his leg dip.

The scars that ran over his face stretched as he blinked.

“…B?”

Bruce’s head shot up, eyes bloodshot and bags heavier than a Gotham socialite’s solid gold Dior purse.

“Jaylad.”

Jason- Jason was alive now. Bruce’s hug felt warm, the tear spot on his shoulder was damp as his dad cried while hugging him.

And Jason should be happy. He’s alive again. His dad loved him.

But all he could think about was the cold of the coffin, the squelch of mud and dirt, and the unerringly wrong feeling of knowing he came back but he came back wrong.

——

Tim had wandered Gotham in the weeks following Jason’s reawakening. He wasn’t avoiding Bruce Wayne. He wasn’t. But Tim knows he’ll have to answer questions soon. He just wasn’t ready.

Tim looked up at the den of pixies- pixies were real!- and squared his shoulders. He did his research. Tim Drake walks into the den with nothing but foolish hope and Gotham-brand audacity. He’ll get answers about Danny today. He will.

——

Soul-Plucker, they called him. Danny Fenton, the proprietor of Fenton Artifacts. The High King.

“I thought King Oberon was the High King?”

The pixies chittered at the little human that could have been kin. Their wings fluttered at their backs, muffled by cloth. It’s not often they find kindred. It really is too bad that Fenton had his mark on the child. How they would have loved to whisk him away. He would have made entertainment that would last a millennia! Or until the court decided to cut of his tongue, at least. How well he had tricked them!

“Of course! Of course! King Oberon is our king, see?” A younger pixie swirled her drink, a shining red and blue thing. “But he’s the High King of another court!”

“The High King of the Infinite Realms, encompassing far more than King Oberon and Queen Tatianna could ever reach.”

Another pixie chimed in, on their fourth glass of amber colored nectar. “The Soul-Plucker!”

“The Beginning of the End.”

“Afterlife IRS department!”

“He who wanders.”

“Death-Caller.” Another one said, grave and serious.

“The Arbiter.”

“So, he’s like, the boss of bosses?” Tim asked. What kind of entity did he make a deal with? Why was he kind to Tim? What motives did Danny have?

“Uh huh!”

“Then what’s he’s doing here?”

“Who knows? The whims of the most powerful are unknown to us.” The pixies clustered around Tim. “Won’t you play another game with us, Alvin? You’re so good at it! Oh, how about a drink?”

“Can’t. I gotta get home. Also, I’m a minor.” Tim slipped passed their fluttering wings and manic smiles. They move to let him past, waving drinks at him in a tantalizing manner.

“And where is that, sweet one?”

“Somewhere, Liltri. Somewhere.”

Tim Drake was a child of pure will, pure hard headed foolishness, a mind sharper than any blade, and luck more terrifying than the creatures he now dealt with. And so, he stepped out of the Pixie Bar with more questions than answers but he stepped out unharmed.

——

“Who are you?” The shadows shift as Lady Gotham unveiled her knight.

Danny felt his eyes cool, glinting green and blue. Lady Gotham forgets who her liege is.

“Haven’t you done your research? You who walks along the edge of shadows, my shop is not a place to dismiss decorum.”

“You brought… you brought him back. How. Why?”

“You want answers? Then give me something in return.”

Danny gestured to the circle his clients have come to know as the deal-maker. Danny doesn’t ask for much in return. Just… something equal to the request.

“Ah,” Danny pointed up at the sign. “I am legally able to deny you my service, so don’t get any ideas.”

Batman was studied up on myths. But he was not a believer, and that both hindered and helped him. What was a god, in front of the faithless? What was the faithless in front of power?

The vigilante stepped into the circle, unable to see the subtle shimmering of magic but remained unbound by the virtue of his disbelief.

“What do you want for answers?”

“You do not often deal with the occult, do you?” Danny tapped the counter. Batman remained silent.

“I have a soft spot for vigilantes,” Danny continued. “And so I won’t ask for much. Just… your cape.”

“Not my hair? A body part?”

“If you were dealing with the fae, you’d probably would lose something of that value, yes.”

“You aren’t fae.”

Danny merely smiled. “Do we have a deal?”

“My cape in exchange for honest answers to my questions.”

Danny huffed, approval glinting in his eyes.

“Your cape for honest answers to three questions,” Danny pointed at the sign, still hanging above them. “Three questions or nothing.”

Batman grimaced. “Deal.”

“Ask your questions, protector.”

“Why did you bring Jason back to life?”

“I didn’t.” Danny grinned. The Bat should have stipulated that he must answer elaborately. He looked like he realized that. Oh well. His mistake. Well, not like there was actual magic binding Danny, so technically, Danny could lie off his ass.

“…Will Jason stay alive?” Danny had a heart and this man was a much better father than Jack ever was.

“Yes. Barring unnatural causes, his soul is firmly attached to his body and will not shuffle off the mortal coil without warning.”

The lines of Batman’s shoulders slumped. Relief. He paused.

“What are your intentions in this city?”

“To run my shop… and to enjoy retirement.”

Danny laughed at Batman’s stoic face. “Disappointed I am not up to nefarious deeds, little knight?”

“No.”

Danny tapped the table. “My payment?”

Batman shucked off his cape and handed it to Danny.

“Why my cape?”

Danny smiled a fanged little thing. “Because your costume looks stupid without it and I could use a laugh.”

Batman grumbled and turned to leave. Ha paused, eyes catching on the glint of camera lenses.

“How much for that?”

“For the little sparrow’s camera?” Danny sighed, eyes fixed on the form of a vigilante who was more kind than angry for once. “Two thousand dollars.”

“That’s a huge markup.”

“That’s how much it means to me, compared to the rest.” Danny slid beyond the counter, a ghostly air about him. He pinned his newly earned cape up. “My shop, my prices, little knight.”

Batman silently handed him two thousand dollars and left with the little sparrow’s camera.

[chuluoyi]

Baby gojo reacts to: megumi!🖤🐺

“just for three hours, can you do it?”

“…yeah.”

megumi stares at the blinking miniature of his sensei quietly, as the baby looks back at him too in silence.

“well then!” gojo claps his hands before turning to you. “let’s go, sweets! we have a willing, trusty babysitter to take care of him!”

you shoot your husband a glare before turning to megumi. “sorry, megumi. we have to go to school and investigate the recent cursed spirits outbreak, and it doesn’t feel right to bring him there.”

“i don’t mind, nee-san,” megumi replies to you almost nonchalantly, throwing a glance at your baby in his hold. “i’ll keep an eye on him.”

that’s what megumi said, but even he doesn’t know what he’ll do with a baby in his apartment. at first, he puts the kid on his bed and he immediately sits up straight and turns to him.

“what?” he questions the baby as if he could answer him. “do you feel cold?”

the munchkin is dressed in a frog onesie with two round eyes on the hoodie, so maybe he doesn’t feel cold, megumi thinks. in the next half an hour, he and the baby are in staring match, as he doesn’t even squeak once.

“you must be bored here,” megumi sighs, starting to feel bad that he can’t entertain him. “maybe i should ask her to accompany me next time…” his thoughts flit to the chirpy girl in his class, whom he knows will have many ideas to humor a baby.

maybe it can also be an excuse to spend time with her too.

suddenly, baby scoots closer to his side and leans to him, closing his eyes— and megumi feels warm inside.

“ah,” a small smile lights his face at the sight of this cute creature depending on him so trustingly. he pulls him closer and pats his back, before wrapping his arms around him to keep him in place.

“okay, let’s sleep together then.”

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

His. | The Salesman x Wife!Reader

Summary: You were his, a shame some men did not get the memo.

Warnings: Canon violence - Possessive!Salesman  - Violent!Salesman - Jealous!Salesman - Simp for his wife - Slut Shaming (not reader) - A man being a creep - The Salesman getting quiet creative with the games - grammar mistakes -

The Salesman loves his wife, he loves her so much that he would burn Seoul down just for her.

He hates when others get her attention, your attention, you are his after all. Why do you need to meet up with your parents ? Dont they trust that He is taking well care of you ? Why does your friends wants a night out without their S/Os ? Does they want to be whores and cheat ? You woulnt ever do that to him!! You are smitten and down bad for him.

He has worked so hard to make you fall for him and his well composed self. You never once saw his dark side, his emotions were always under control when he was with you. He only showed you his good side, the side that was deep down locked only for you.

Would it bee too cheesy to say you had the key for his heart ? Probably, but that was the truth. No one could pull him away from his dark ideas, only you, he just needed to see your name on his phone to light up his mood.

And he knows he has his own failures, being possessive over you its one of them. But he cant help it, you are after all an amazing woman. Everyone should bow down to you when you pass them. The Salesman has to calm down his anger when he sees just the smallest disrespect towards you. He is already making plans on how he would take revenge for you.

But he cant go on killing every person that bothers him. Not because he does not want to do it. No, he would love to. But because it would attract too much attention and last thing he wants its you being under stress or having a police on his tail.

However there are things that just crosses the line, makes him see red and think:

When was the last time I played a game with someone ?

And god knows he does not mean an innocent game.

But what was going on that was pulling on his nerves?

Well, the spring season had just started and you being the lovable creature wanted to go out towards a well known park to see the new flowers.

He agreed, anything for his wife. He even looked up which day would be the best one to go and see all the new flowers. Not that he cared for these, no. He wanted to see your smile and that spark in your eyes. That was what he wanted.

And of course you had dress beautiful for it, part of him was temped to just stay home and show you how much he loved you in more carnal ways. But he decided to let that for the night.

The park was as expected full of people of all ages. Three times he had moved to the side to avoid being crashed by a kid, and three times you had give the parents a polite smile and a few words to not worry about it.

Hand in hand you two walked around. Besides the flowers there were sellers, ballooms, sweets, water, even umbrellas.

"Love can you get me a bottle of water? Oh! And ice cream?" You asked pointing at two stalls.

He nodded giving you his signature smile kissing your cheeck and telling you not to move that he would be back soon.

Saddly the ice cream took more time since there was a small line. He kept looking back over his shoulder to make sure you were alright. And for the most part you were, sitting there looking down at your phone (probably telling your friend group about your date, well he will check that later).

"What flavor Sir?"

He told the seller the flavor you wanted, pay for it and waited taking another look at you, a small smile on his face-

Only to be wipped out at the new sight.

A Man, maybe younger than him was sitting right next to you. Talking to you, smiling at you, being too close to you.

Who does that Man think he is ?

He cant help it, he is jealous, knows you wont ever go behind his back. You were his, his wife and only his. Why others seemed to not get the message?

"Sir?.."

Fuck, he must have stared for too long and looking a bit too agressive because now the seller was almost trembling as he was giving him the ice cream.

Just as he was having a death stare it went back to his polite self, taking the ice cream and going towards you.

The closer he got, the angrier he felt. That Man, no, that fucking worm was even closer now. He did not need to know what he was saying to you, his body language gave it away.

And so did yours. You were not liking it. If you being almost on the corner of the bench was not enough then your face was a clear give away.

But some men are pathetic and even when they can see the ring on your finger they wont back off.

Scum of life, this one would not live.

"Im married, and im getting uncomfortable. You should leave"

Oh your voice, like an angel it almost made him feel at ease.

Almost.

"Dont be like that baby, I just asked for your number, and I dont mind sharing"

Well he did mind. In fact he never liked sharing. And even less when it comes to you. You and sharing does not go in the same prhase, hell no.

He catches your eyes and can see the ask for help. And so he is finally there, whatever that excusme ot a human was going to say its cut off by his polite cold tone.

"Sorry my love, there was a line. I got you water and your favorite flavor" He says ignoring the man and giving you the items.

"And who may you be?" He asks his fake polite smile showing. He is towering over him. Making him feel small and smaller.

If he could, he would snap his neck here.

"Uhh, no one important. Sorry I will leave now" The namelss man says standing up and bowing, but before he can go the Salesman takes his arm rather harshly.

"I insist, you kept my wife company while I was gone after all.

And like that, thinking that he is fooling him he gets his name.

The Salesman nods and thanks him before taking your arm to start walking to the opposite side of the park.

"He came- I did not want to make a scene" You start, not scared of him but feeling rather bad because you are covinced he feels bad.

"No. Its my fault. I left you alone for too long, a beautiful woman as yourself should never be alone. Dont worry, you are with me now" He says kissing your head. "Eat your ice cream before it melts or did that exchange leave you with a bad feeling?"

Fucker he would pay for ruining his wife day.

"A bit...but you got it for me, so I will eat it" You said smiling up at him.

His heart flutters, you would do anything for him. He knows it. Maybe not like the same things he would do for you, but he knows you would push whatever thing or person aside if it means making him happy.

His dear wife.

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~

"Park Beolle" The Salesman said the mans name in a cold tone walking behind him. "Your parents did not like you a lot right? I cant blame them, you stole money from them multiple times" The Salesman said.

"This is not for them, its because you ruined my wife's day. And did not respect her. So I must punish you, I dont expect someone like you to understand"

Park Beolle stood there, hands tied behind his back, heels tied up together as well, a tape over his mouth. In front of him multiple bear traps stood.

The Salesman took out his loved gun "If you manage to cross the room within twenty seconds then you will live but I you fail"

He stood besides him gun on his own head a sick smile on his face.

"I will shoot you, and it goes without saying that you will have to jump. Ready?"

The Salesman saw the poor display of ability seeing him get his feets inside one of the bear traps making him fall, another one closing.

The tape muffled his screams but the Salesman kept watching him and the time.

"And up" His voice was a sing song tone, like he was happy about it.

The sound of the gun fired was everything that was left. Blood soaked the bloor.

"Ah, im going to be late. I need to clean this, well I hope my dear wife waits for me" He said taking a napkin and cleaning his face. "I will call her just in case"

~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○~○

For the first time The Salesman came to his house with you already sleeping. He had kept you on call for one hour with the excuse of him doing some papel work.

"Eh? Metal sound?" He had say carrying the bear traps "I think you are getting sleepy my love, or maybe it was this stapler"

He smiled softly at your sleep form. Not even aware of the monster he was, to you he was a loving dotting husband. Nothing more and nothing else.

"Sleep well my love, I love you"

The now clean blood from his face and hands were a seal of it.