#silly teeth man <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[weevmo]

Don't do it -

Don't MAKE him do it -

[valwrote]

PICK YOUR DOMESTIC HUSBAND 🛒

WHICH HUSBAND IS ON THE DOMESTICITY MENU TODAY?

featuring: diluc, alhaitham, zhongli, wriothesley, neuvillette.

synopsis: glimpses into married life with the genshin men.

warnings: implied fem!reader, occasional pet names, ooc (I have a sparse idea how diluc works, mention of "activities" (just mention I can't write smut pls), silly goofy ah loser coded men, mild swearing (damn, heck)

a/n: *stretching my back and crunching my neck.* I'm back from the dead. apologies for the choppy writing. thanks for the support on the other posts, if only I could write 50-page essays thanking everyone. <33 :')) not proofread.

DILUC 🍷

PRODUCT NAME: BREAKFAST AND KISSES IN BED. Diluc always hated the Knights of Favonius… 

He hated how most of them just stand around like buffoons and do not partake in any actual work that involves saving Mondstadt. He wouldn’t admit that he enjoys playing Batman. He hated them all except for one.

One he was willing to forgive all flaws of. "Knight of Favonius…always so inefficient,”  He scoffed at the pathetic sight of the hilichurls trying to dry roast a few knights roped to a wooden stick for their dinner. “Seriously, You’re so right Master Diluc.” Diluc’s head turned so fast at the sound of a new voice. When did you get here? Were you always there and how did he not sense you around?

That’s simply how you always were. A hard worker amidst slackers – he always termed despite Jean trying to explain that others work hard too. Perhaps that’s what caught his attention, honestly, he would never know what did. “G’morning…” He murmured against your skin, head buried in the crook of your neck, your flushed bare back pressed against him. “5 more minutes…” he heard your soft and groggy voice evoking a chuckle from the usually passive man. “Have I ever told you…how beautiful you are?” Diluc muttered against your skin. You smiled and turned around, “You always do. I remember my Dark-Knight Hero crying at the altar.” You pressed a finger against his chest, while he scoffed at the memory. “Don’t remind me about that, Kaeya doesn’t let me live that down…” He sighed, his brother consistently brought up the matter of him crying whenever he was losing an argument. Foul play if you ask anyone. “So…breakfast downstairs or in the bed?” He planted a kiss on your cheek while you hummed out a response, “Bed, you didn’t exactly go easy on me the previous night.” You recalled the events of the passionate night the day before. The honeymoon phase never seemed to end. “I am so sorry–” He panicked,” You're not in pain are you? I promise I’ll be gentle– I knew I should’ve been more considerat–” You stopped him by pressing a kiss against his lips. He groaned at the feeling of your soft lips touching his hands tangling themselves in your hair.

“I’m kidding silly… you should stop taking things so seriously unless you want me to start searching for grey hairs amidst those red locks of yours.” You snickered out seeing him release a breath of relief.

If the Darknight Hero really does exist, he's probably just someone in disguise. When he gets up in the morning to brush his teeth, it's the real him. He was his real him in front of you. People may call him a loser for such vulnerability…he was a loser for you.

ALHAITHAM 🌱

PRODUCT NAME: READING BOOKS OUT LOUD. One would say married to someone like Alhaitham was nothing short of a nightmare. They weren't 100% right. Shrouded beneath the aloof and meticulous personality resided someone who was in complete denial towards being loved. He loves it.

Who was he kidding? Nobody in a million years thought someone could put up with his insufferable personality — said Kaveh, his unpaying tenant. That was until he ran into you during his time as the newly appointed Scribe. You were like a painter, splashing heaps of paint in his 90s black-and-white life. Was eating ice cream always this enjoyable or was it because it was with you? Was the gossip between co-workers always this interesting or was it because it included you?

Why was his heart having an entire Queen’s rock and roll concert talking to you? Was it cardiac arrest or– He almost shuddered at the thought of it being what they called love.

“You’ve got flour on your face, sweetheart.” His teal eyes blinked amusingly into yours, a faint smile curling up his lips. You must have saved a nation in your previous life to land this man as your husband. Beige shirt perfectly sculpting around his abs – contrary to him calling himself “feeble,” hair slightly tousled and slight sleepiness in his eyes. He might not act like it but he was a little child whose needs had to be tended to like the coffee mug in his hands which you made, like usual. You wouldn’t want a cranky Alhaitham now, would you? “Hmpf, not my fault, this cooking book is completely bogus!” You rubbed your cheeks with the back of your hand, wiping away any remaining flour. “This is so boring…if only someone could provide their poor wife with some entertainment.” You always resorted to theatrics to get him to do things for you, albeit begrudgingly. “No, the same tactic is not going to work again.” “Please…” “No…” He groaned, tone almost pleading not to put him through the torture again. “During better or worse!” You resorted to the ace up to your sleeve. WEDDING VOWS! “Stop quoting the wedding vows.” He sighed in defeat. The most intellectually gifted man in the nation couldn't win against his own wife. Ironical. He got up and grabbed a book out of the bookshelf; a small fraction of his much larger library.

“Miss Elizabeth,” Alhaitham lazily flipped through the pages earning a rebuke. “More emotion! You are ruining the scene.” Alhaitham sighed and cleared his throat, “I love you most ardently…” His tone was feathery soft, emotion surging in it. A smile crept up as he stared at you endearingly.

“That’s much better. Though I seriously think Mr Darcy should’ve said– Miss Elizabeth, allow me to kiseth thy lovely lips.” You mimicked the deep voice of the character with the failing British accent. “Please have mercy on Jane Austen’s ghost and let her enjoy the afterlife.” Alhaitham chuckled and continued reading as you continued baking.  It was a shame that a man of such talent only paid attention to the truth itself and not to the people around him. If only the searching eyes of the ordinary say the exception to his indifference, you.

This was your biosphere, just you, him, novels and food encapsulated inside your small home.

ZHONGLI 🪨

PRODUCT NAME: ALWAYS ON HIS MIND. What is the best but the most useless flex you have? Being married to the Geo Archon. The inability to just tell the whole world that you are married to the frigging god was painful. You yourself were surprised by your ability to control yourself. Zhongli was a man of carefully curated words. Instead of words, straight-up poetry flew out of his mouth. Everyone knew how much he adored his wife, every vendor, every acquaintance, heck even Venti. Wangsheng Funeral Parlor's mysterious consultant. Handsome, elegant, and surpassingly learned. Excellent memory. A master of courtesy and rules. The amount of poor women who have tried to grab his attention. "Mr.Zhongli, how does this look?" the woman, who he remembered meeting over a history discussion 17 days ago. "Hm?" his amber eyes shifted to gaze at the hairpiece the lady was holding. "Most exquisite.." He remarked, seemingly going into deep thought. Instead of a compliment, he said something that made the woman back away, "Such beautiful craftsmanship...may I ask you to tell me where you found this? I wish to buy one for my wife–" he paused, seeing the lady vanished after pointing at the shop where she got it from. "Zhongli, you should be able to tell why people approach you..." Hutao sighed, standing beside the rather oblivious gentleman. "Let's just continue...we've got customers to find!" Hutao started walking alongside the railing, hoping to find people in need of funeral services. "Maybe we should go and ask peopl– Zhongli??" Hutao looked around for the Consultant, who was caught up chatting with a shopkeeper over some earrings. "Zhongli!" Hutao called out to him, causing his head to turn towards the director. "Oh, apologies...It seems I got too carried away. These earrings caught my eye...I'm sure [Name} would love them.." he mumbled, staring at the jewellery. "I'll take them." "Mister Zhongli? What about the payment..." The shopkeeper meekly asked, causing Zhongli to turn his head fully at Hutao; gazing expectantly. Hutao should've expected this... "Zhongli, we are out here to find customers! Not buying gifts for [Name], her birthday is months away!" "They say the best things should be done first. After all, why must I wait for one specific day to express my love for my beloved?" Zhongli asked curiously and Hutao shaked her head; love was clearly out of her expertise. Zhongli, he is particular about everything. He only attended the best operas and focused on the perfect ratio for the creation of an authentic dish.  On a typical day, all you will glean from him is a few pieces of useless trivia, because he particularly enjoys sharing these fun tidbits with you. He was particular about you and your likings. A smile on your face was what he wanted by the end of the day. For being someone alive for 6000 years, he could proudly say that he loved and cherished something– someone.

"Wait here, Director Hu...Perhaps I should get those flowers over there to accompany the hairpin and earrings..."

WRIOTHESLEY 🐺

PRODUCT NAME: BATTLE TO BUY A DOG OR NOT.

"Wriothesley, I want a dog!" You crossed your arms, staring down at the Duke who was glued to the chair in his office. “But why? That’s just unnecessary responsibility…” Wriothesley sighed, rubbing his temples. This was the 3rd time this month you’ve brought up this topic. Was he that incompetent in terms of filling his role as your significant other? Perhaps not with the never-ending paperwork. Oh, how he wished people would just stop committing crimes. “I get lonely in the Fortress…I want a child.” You put forth your point by using the term ’ child’. Child, dog same thing. You hoped to finally convince him this time.

“We have Sigewinne.” Wriothesley pointed at the head nurse prepping tea in the room with the back of his pen. “I am sorry, Your Grace but playing the role of the child is out of my job description.” The Melusine replied indifferently, pouring freshly seeped tea into the three cups. “Fine, we will go get one…I’ll schedule a meeting with the owner of the pet shelter. Happy?” He asked you, chin resting on his palm. Perhaps getting a dog was a good idea as he was guilty of being unable to spend quality time with you… “No way…” “Isn’t that..?” “The Duke of the Meropide–” “He rarely appears in public..” Wriothesley held out the door to the shelter for you, hoping you would go in and it would finally save him from the gaze of curious onlookers. The two of you walked in, only to be pounced upon by a big dog. “Kal! You sly dog! I knew I shouldn’t have let you out!” The caretaker yelled at the big ball of black fur who had tackled Wriothesley to the floor and was aggressively licking his face, tail wagging in delight. “Are you okay?” You asked your fallen husband, who just chuckled in response. “I am good just– Okay stop! I understand your gesture of love.” Wriothesley got up as the dog encircled him. “This one is so adorable…” you gasped at the cuteness radiating from the dog and its big brown eyes. “You’ve got a keen eye! This is Kal, Shiloh Shepard, one of the finest dogs out there.” The caretaker combed her fingers through the thick and groomed black coat of the canine. “He seems to have taken a liking to the Duke.” The caretaker continued as the dog ran back to Wriothesley, peppering his face with licks. “He even looks like you.” You teased as Wriothesley stared at you in disbelief. You did not just compare him to a dog…he even did a double take at the dog to confirm. “We will take this one then…” He chuckled in amusement. Never had he imagined marrying you and on top of that getting a four-legged beast. Needless to say, Wriothesley proudly walked out of the shelter, holding the big dog in his hands like a child. It felt complete ever since getting Kal; like your own little family. Wriothesley wouldn’t admit it but he loved the dog, despite it hogging all of your love and attention. He didn’t expect to be fighting over cuddling rights with a dog!? 

He watched you and Kal sleep peacefully on the couch, keeping him company while he finished up his work. He felt a sense of gratitude…people of the Fortress knew little of the crime he once committed. The only one who still remembers it like yesterday is Wriothesley himself. And no matter how much glory or repute he has earned, he still considers himself to be the same old Wriothesley he's always known.Neither a good person nor a complete villain. He's just another soul, still living on in this world. However, your eyes always reassured him in ways he couldn’t describe. Everything was perfect…

[Name]!! YOURDAMN DOG PISSED ON MY COAT!! Maybe not that perfect…whoops.

NEUVILLETTE 🌊

PRODUCT NAME: HELPING THE OTHER DRESS.

Monsieur Neuvillette, The Iudex of Fontaine, always wondered how his life had come to this. 500 years of serving his position as the Beacon of Justice, a lovely, beaming baker somehow broke the monotony. Well, calling you just a baker was now an insult. With your ring finger bejewelled, with one of the rarest gems– an ode to his undying loyalty and representation of his eternal love. “It’s astounding how a covert mission conducted by melusines could’ve landed someone such as myself a lady like her…” He muttered to himself, seeing his full form in the mirror. “Talking to yourself, again?” You leaned against the door frame, lopsidedly smiling at the peculiar antics of Fontaine’s most distinguished man. “Ah, apologies…I didn’t think you would notice me conversing with myself. Now I find myself in a rather awkward predicament.” He chuckled. Dear god, this man was so beautiful that his beauty was almost blinding with the morning sun perfectly hitting his face.

“Say ah,” You requested and he complied. Who better to take constructive criticism from other than your husband? “New filling?” He covered his mouth while chewing on the croissant. “Yup, how is it? I was experimenting with some Rainbow Roses and these Inazuman berries I bought.” You blinked curiously, waiting for some input. “Hmm it is very pleasant, it is fascinating how you manage to maintain the freshness of the fruit…” You smiled at his compliment, before noticing him struggling with the jabot around his neck. “Need help?” You offered and he nodded his head. “This is absurd..it usually isn’t this difficult.” He frustrated replied, it was amusing to see the cool and collected man all worked up about clothing. “I suggest simplifying your outfit.” You attached the jabot and secured it in with the teardrop brooch, fixing the ruffles. 

“Thank you. I do prefer my outfit as it conveys the message I wish for it to convey.” He explained before staring at you. You knew that look, he looked at you with his eyebrows slightly creased when he was hesitating from saying something. “What is it?” “Do I get a goodbye kiss before I leave?” “Pfft! I didn’t think you would take that seriously!” Conclusion: this man was wayyy to cute.

Neuvillette is a solitary person. Neuvillette is not known for his personal desires.

He was deemed as someone with unassailable impartiality. If only they knew that perhaps the Iudex was just a wee bit biased.

a/n 2.0: the crust will come off...hopefully. i wonder if it's possible to guess which one of them is my favourite??

don't steal, copy, plagiarise, or translate.

©definitelysel

[joelsdagger]

devil’s advocate || joel miller x f!reader

happy belated birthday to the man himself :3

pairing: daddy dom!joel x f!reader rating: 18+ explicit minors dni  summary: joel misses you while he’s away at work. warnings: [no-outbreak], established relationship, age gap [reader is 20’s, joel is late 50’s], dd/lg dynamics, daddy kink, sending nudes, m!masturbation, possessive language, pet names [little bug, baby angel], mentions of reader wearing a collar, references to: smut, tummy bulge, and creampies, joel’s pov. word count: 2.3k 

a/n: let’s pretend this isn’t my second fic of joel having a wank lmao. anyways! this is another little snippet of life with daddy joel. however, it can be read as a standalone, but if you would like some context of how this all started, i recommend reading intermission first. a gazillion thank you’s to @pedrospatch for beta’ing this for me, for all the reassurance, and not letting me get cold feet and to @dinandwhiskey for yapping about these two with me endlessly from day one, this silly little concept wouldn’t exist without you <33

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | playlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Joel’s in his office looking at blueprints when his phone buzzes against his leg. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, eyes squinting as the bright screen lights up his dim office. His heart pinches in his chest when he sees your name across his screen. 

do you like this one daddy?

Attachment: 1 image

He taps on the notification. His mouth hangs open, throat dry, dumbfounded as he takes in the picture. You, on your knees in the bedroom, wearing a white slip nightgown. The sleeves cut off at your shoulders; there’s a lace trimming along the neckline — too high for his liking — that it almost meets the heart-shaped charm dangling from your collar; angel, it reads; he smiles to himself when he sees it. The lace continues down your front and stops at your middle, where a matching white belt cinches in your waist, accentuating your figure. The silk material cuts at your knees. 

Jesus Christ. There’s a tightness in his stomach, and somewhere else. He knows what you’re doing, knows this is a game you play very well. You know you don’t need his opinion or permission. Everything you wear, everything you do drives him fucking crazy. You drive him crazy. 

Whatever you like, angel, he types out. His thumb hovers over the too small blue arrow when another text with a different photo attached comes through. 

or how about this one?

This time the slinky nightgown is baby pink, lace running across the deep neckline. The material clings to your breasts so well, he can tell your nipples are peaked beneath it. There’s matching lace at the bottom of the skirt, cuts high up your left thigh, and a tiny bow sits atop the slit, identical to the one in between your breasts. 

The stiffness in his jeans starts to throb. You’ve got him wrapped around your pretty little finger, so much you’ve conditioned him to get hard anytime he sees– thinks of you. 

He’s so damn hard. Rock solid, and he can’t wait any longer. He pops open his jeans, and drags the zipper down too quick; it snags on denim. He doesn’t even hesitate to unzip the metal teeth of his fly entirely, he’s too desperate. Joel shucks his cotton boxers down enough to clumsily pull his already leaking cock out. He spits in his hand, groans lowly as he curls it around his heavy length, and starts pumping. 

Joel’s head falls back, and he breathes a sigh of relief as he fucks his fist. He was half-hard all day, All your fault, he thinks. Trotting into the kitchen in one of your pretty little dresses while he cooked up your breakfast, your head bopping along to the record he’d put on as you rounded the kitchen island to take your seat at the table, plate full of eggs and bacon in hand to start your morning. Hips swaying, frilly fabric swishing, barely covering the plump curve of your ass, but just enough to tease him. Something you’re always doing.  

His mind wanders. Imagines what the material you’re wearing in the photo feels like in his hands. You both favor the frilly dresses, tiny and soft against your skin. He’s always careful not to rip the delicate fabric; he likes the sight of fucking you in them more than ripping them into pieces. But he likes the silk ones too; likes running his roughened fingertips along the lace trimming, tracing it over your breasts, following the line down your body until his fingers meet your bare thighs. His hands always dipping beneath the hem, seeking more, as if it’s second nature to him. Fingers finding your sex — always dripping with arousal — then his palms move to the swell of your ass, gripping and digging into your plush flesh, pulling you closer into his chest and both of you moaning in unison. 

He groans, bites his bottom lip to stifle it. He can’t be too loud, not with his crew on the other side of the door. You make him feel like a damn teenager. Making him so hard that he has to jack his cock in the quiet dark of his office, willing himself not to make a sound because he’s too impatient to wait until he returns to you. That’s what you do to him. 

Joel can never get through a full workday without thinking of you. You…simply living and breathing is all that manages to take up his mind. All he ever thinks about is you, consumes his very being. All of this is nothing. Serves as nothing but a distraction for him until he can get back to you. Never not checking every damn clock or a crew members' watch at every turn on every job site, nearly begging for the day....everyday to be over, wants nothing more than to take you into his bed or take you right there on the couch or the kitchen if that’s where you are when he gets home. Wants to spread you out and split you open on his cock, burying himself in until he meets resistance and elicits that soft gasp from your lips, the one that makes him forget about the world for a moment or two. Wants to grab your hand and cup his shape through your tummy and tell you, Feel me right there, baby? Daddy’s always right there, ain’t he? 

He hears your moan echoing in his ears, and the quick tugs of his fist increase almost unconsciously. He used to think the sounds you made were his favorite. Your giggles when he pulls at your ankles to bring you closer. Your whimpers when he teases his cock over your panties (in retaliation for teasing him). Your body writhing beneath the broad weight of him when he finally slips it in; daddy, pouring from your lips as he plays with you.

Now, he reckons it’s more than that.

It’s how you taste on his tongue — warm and sweet when he glides it through your drooling folds. It’s how you feel around him — your little wet cunt sucking him in, made just right for him. Your skin, soft and delicate, waiting to be marked black and blue. Your body putty and pliant, curling and melting into him on the couch or in his bed after a long day. It’s how you trust him completely — without hesitation as he does what he pleases with you. It's how you look at him — gorgeous wide eyes sparkling and a sleepy smile on your face beaming up at him in the soft morning glow when you wake up beside him. It’s the first thing he sees every morning and his heart fucking flutters.

It’s everything. All of it and more. 

His fist tightens around his cock, thumb sweeping over his wide tip — leaking and an angry shade of purple. Angry because his fist isn’t enough; it’ll never be enough–

His phone buzzes as a third photo with a message pops into the text thread, his head snaps down and his eyes meet the photo in a nanosecond.  

is it too short daddy? 

He inhales sharply through his nose as he studies the photo; you’re wearing the same outfit, only now you’re bent at the waist, your hands flat on the mattress, and leaning forward on the balls of your feet — ruffled white socks sitting low on your ankles. The lace hem of your skirt has ridden up just enough to reveal yourself to him. You. On full display — only for him to see — and yet–

Not short enough, he wants to respond. 

He sets his phone down on his denim-clad thigh, thumb tapping on the photo before his fingers pinch outward, zooming in.  

Christ. There they are. Taunting him beneath the thin pink cherry speckled panties that barely cover your holes, just waiting for him — waiting to be filled until you’re sore and leaking and so full of him he has to work his cum back into your spent hole. 

Hole. 

He hasn’t delivered on his promise to fill the other one. Not in the way you’ve been asking. 

Baby angel, we oughta do it right. We oughta go slow. 

He’s been training you for the last little while; he knows he’s too big to take all at once. One day he’ll make good on his promise. Daddy always keeps his promises, don’t he little bug? 

His phone buzzes once more, cutting through his reverie. You sent him a fourth photo with–

miss you daddy :( 

The skirt of your nightgown is bunched around your hips, your thighs spread and fingers skimming beneath the band of your panties, his eyes trail down, following the line of your small fingers, and then he sees it–

The wet stain of your slick on the front of your baby pink panties; your cute little clit, soft and puffy against the sheer material — peeking out — almost like it’s calling out for him.  

Fuck. Poor baby. Daddy’s comin’. Just a little longer. 

Joel’s jaw clenches, and the tension pulls taut in his stomach. He should be there. Needs to be there. Push the head of his cock past your puffy folds — returning home — repenting for being away for so long, for leaving you at all. Warm velvet walls pulsing around him as he thrusts in, in, in. 

Beads of sweat roll off his forehead and into his temples, pencil slipping from behind his ear and clattering on the wooden floor as he lets his head roll back on his neck, hitting the back of the chair, his eyes slip closed. Lets himself think of sinking into you, the warmth of your skin against his, your velvet cunt snug around him — soft and swollen and wet — fluttering around him, squeezing him until he comes.

His hips falter, breath now shaky and weak, muscles in his belly tightening as the coil deep within him threatens to snap. Joel retracts his left hand from his phone and lifts it to cup the weight of his balls, kneading gently at the stretchy flesh. His office chair squeaks as his back arches, canting his hips upwards, rutting into his own fist — desperate — like a fucking puppy.  His left hand squeezes around his balls tighter, right arm tenses as his wrist pumps faster — still not enough. 

He hears you then — all whiny and meek — Daddy. Please. Daddy, fill me up, need it inside please. 

And it’s all he needs. 

“Ohh baby,” he breathes, mouth falling open, filthy groans clawing through the walls of his throat, echoing against the ceiling and the four walls of his office, as the tidal waves crash over him and take him under. 

His head snaps down in time to watch his release, cock pulsing and twitching as thick, hot ropes of cum spurting from his tip coat the distressed wood of his desk, landing within a hair's breadth of the blueprints. Shouldn’t be there. He thinks of painting your insides with him, filling you up with his spend and making you his, over and over and over. 

Fuck, that’s it — Fuck, he groans. 

He’s in a trance, and it’s almost like he’s coming again. His thighs tremble as his thumb glides across his tip, and he imagines the curved head nudging against that special place inside you while your nails scrape across the nape of his neck, marking him as yours. He lets his eyes close slowly, and then he sees you, his eyes dancing across your face, watching as it twists up in pleasure as his thick head prods at his favorite place again and again. Until your eyes water and you’re gushing around him, dripping cunt clutching him until you milk him of everything he has to offer, sanctifying himself with every last drop.

His guttural groans settle into tired sighs, and his wrist slows as he nears the end of his orgasm, but he doesn’t stop, not until he’s certain he’s milked himself completely, just as he would if he were nestled inside you. When the last of his release dribbles down onto his fist, body still shaking and pulsating from his climax, he thinks he’s never come this hard by his own hand. 

His hand comes to a stop, and his breath begins to steady, chest rising and falling as his lungs fill with air. His left hand finds his phone again, props it up while his right still clutches his softening cock, hissing as his fist meets the swollen cockhead — dripping and covered with cum. He snaps a picture, shaky fingers backspace his previous message, and instead types out, Naughty little girl. Look what you made Daddy do. And taps the small arrow without another thought, sending it on its way to you. And he blames it on the blood pumping and surge of energy rushing through him in the wake of his intense orgasm — and you for making him feel alive. 

He doesn’t wait for a response before he sends another message.

It’s perfect, angel. Keep it on till I get home. Got a surprise for you.  

You reply seconds later: 

yes daddy 🩷

He smirks. Attagirl. 

Joel clicks his phone off, runs a hand down the scruff of his beard before leaning over his desk with a grunt, careful as to not sully his shirt with his release. He fumbles around his junk drawer for a small pack of pink heart-themed tissues, dabs at droplets of sweat on his forehead before wiping up his spend on his fist and desk. He tucks his soft cock back beneath his black boxers, and takes a moment to unsnag his fly, zipping up his jeans. His aching knees regain function, and he stands, heavy legs dragging him through his office and stalking towards the door. When his weak fist meets cold steel, he makes a mental note to stop by the store to pick up the butterfly charms he promised you.

follow and turn on notifs for @joelsdaggerupdates to learn when i post fic!

[midnighvtm4ss]

Rosemary

Summary: Kidnapped in the middle of the night you’re dragged far away from camp by the ruthless Lemoyne Raiders. Your disappearance a painful wound for Arthur who has to, quite literally, fight for your love back.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

AO3 link

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader

Content: angst, hurt/comfort (finallyyy !!!) description of gun fight, kidnapping, heavy themes

wc: 5k

a/n: so we’ve finally come to the end of this silly little story. The comfort is finally here woohoo !! I’m actually kinda proud of this chapter because I tried a different approach to writing and idk,, i like it. Thank you from the bottom of my heart to every single one of you who liked Rosemary and filled my days with love, I’ll forever be grateful to all of you. A slightly better version of Rosemary will be posted on my ao3 account along with a new series im writing following John Marston and the reader. The plot for it will be revealed in a few days. As always let me know what you think of this chapter <33 (gif from pinterest)

Pain.

The very first thing you noticed was the pain—a sharp, throbbing agony spreading from the back of your head to the front. You winced as you tried to move your hands to support your head but your limbs felt heavy, almost as if you were trying to lift one of Pearson’s flour bags.

Everything was dark. A muffled piercing sound rang through your skull. You blinked, trying to clear your vision, but failing as the pitch darkness of the thick woods clouded your vision. Trying your hardest to get out of your dream-like state you decided to focus your mind on what exactly was happening, the last thing you remembered was your fight with Arthur and taking a walk into the woods outside camp. And then the pain. Oh, the pain was killing you.

You had to go back to camp and ask Reverend Swanson for some medicine.

You once again tried to raise your hands to your head to check for blood but your action, unfortunately, was unsuccessful. And then you felt it. The rough, scratching sensation of rope digging into your wrists. Your arms were bound tightly behind your back, the coarse braided fibers of the rope biting into your skin with every slight movement. Panic flooded your mind, its freezing tide rushing down on you as you realized that you were tied up.

“She’s comin’ to. We better hurry up before she starts and give us trouble,” A low, hoarse voice cut through your panic haze.

From your lying position, what seemed like the figure of a large man could be made out approaching you in the darkness. You felt yourself being hoisted roughly into the air, before you were slung harshly like a sack of potatoes, across something hard. A horse, you judged by the pungent smell of hay that invaded your nostrils. The saddle dug painfully into your side as the animal began to move forward under the command of its rider. The sudden movement made you almost throw up, your head pounding rhythmically with each rapid beat of hooves on the woods ground. You wanted to scream but no sound escaped your throat, the pain in your body too intense. As the horse rode further and further into the woods you could feel your consciousness slowly slip away,

‘Arthur,’ you managed to utter before darkness took over you.

The second time you awoke, it was due to the biting cold of dawn. The sky above was just starting to lighten, the first rays of sunrise penetrating through the dense treetops, coloring everything in pale hues. You were lying on the ground again, your body stiff and muscles aching. You shivered uncontrollably, teeth chattering together, your dress doing a poor job at keeping you warm, as you tried your best to gather your scattered thoughts. The men were still nearby, the sound of their hushed voices mixing with the rustling of leaves blowing in the wind. Despite the overwhelming pain and tiredness you felt washing all over your body you forced yourself to stay awake.

You rolled to the side as best as you could, mud staining the soft colored fabric of your dress and cheeks, trying to find out where they had taken you. You knew you had to think clearly, to find a way out of this nightmare. Your eyes, although blurred, scanned the area in front of you. You were in the Bayou area, the shadow of tall trees and surrounding swamp a dead giveaway of the location and judging by the various bottles of moonshine all over the place, your kidnappers probably took you to an old moonshine distillery camp.

“You sure she’s worth all this trouble?” a high pitched voice asked.

“What, a beauty like her ? Absolutely partner,” another man responded, his tone cruel. “Just keep her quiet until the boss comes back, then we’ll have ourselves a real party,” he added laughing.

Fear gripped your chest like a vise—you could hear footsteps approaching, quick and heavy. Rough hands grabbed you by the shoulders, flipping you over onto your back, your eyes focusing just enough to see the blurred outline of a man’s face looming above you, the bitter smell of liquor and tobacco taking over your senses, the end of his yellow scarf tied around his neck dangling down in front of you. Lemoyne raiders.

“Well, look who’s finally awake,” he muttered, his voice dripping with mockery as he smiled down at you. He took out a small pocket knife from his satchel leaning in closer. The blade flashed in front of your eyes as he lowered it down to your cheek, slowly moving it down towards your neck without breaching your skin.

Your breath caught up in your throat, your chest rising and falling rapidly making you lightheaded as the blade touched the sensitive skin of your neck. Your heart pounded so violently in your chest that it made you physically sick. A strained whimper left your lips as tears welled up in your eyes blurring your vision. You were completely frozen in place, terrified under the man’s knife. The man menacingly laughed at the sound you let out, flashing his yellow teeth at you, satisfaction evident in his cold eyes.

He roughly manhandled you up by your arm, his tight grip leaving dark bruises on your skin as your feet dragged in the mud. The man pushed you inside a decaying wooden cabin, its interior surprisingly worse than the exterior, you noted as you were sat down on a small chair positioned in the corner of the entrance room, far away from the door.

Another man, much smaller than the previous one, grabbed you by your hair lifting your face towards his making you wince.

“You’re gonna stay nice ‘nd quiet Miss,” he said before stuffing your mouth with a dirty piece of cloth, the bitter taste of dirt making you gag.

The two men spared you one last glance, a satisfied expression painting their faces, before leaving the cabin to join their other men outside, locking you in.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

The usual cheerful chirping of birds coming from the trees surrounding Clemens Point camp acted as a morning alarm for Arthur. The chill morning air biting at his exposed ankles, his blanket messily tangled up his torso as a result of the restless night he spent tossing and turning, waiting for you to come back. He knew that following you was the wrong choice. You wanted some space from him and he respected that, but his heart couldn’t help but ache at the missing warmth of your body in his bed. He waited and waited for you, his eyes growing heavy as he rehearsed in his mind all the ways he could make it up to you, until his body succumbed to its tiredness and fell asleep.

Putting on his hat he lazily walked towards the coffee brewer on the campfire near the ladies’ tents, his mind replaying the events of the night. The way you looked at him as if he had just shoved a knife into your chest, your pretty eyes bloodshot and puffy from the constant crying. Your trembling form making its way out of your shared tent hunting his mind like a vengeful ghost. He loathed himself for that. It was his damn fault. He had to make it right and he’d do anything to take all the pain he caused away.

Sure you had slept with the girls since you never made it back to your tent last night, he expected to find you chatting away with Tilly as the both of you usually prefered to start early on your morning chores, his steps carrying him with a determined aura, but once he made it in front of the ladies’ tents you were not there. His face scrunched up in confusion as a small glimmer of concern planted its root in his head. That same glimmer grew rapidly as he darted his eyes around camp seeing no signs of your presence.

“Arthur,” the gentle sound of Abigail’s voice snapped him out of his turmoil.

“Abigail, hi.” he answered absently, eyes still scanning the camp’s grounds in hope of catching a glimpse of you.

“Look, I don’t want to be nosy but is everything alrigh’ between you two ? I heard you two yelling last night, she was pretty shaken up before you arrived”

“Yes, no—I don’t know. We had an argument, and she didn’t sleep in our bed last night. Can't blame her really, but I can’t seem to find her,” he explained, concern radiating out of every fiber in his body “Have you seen her ?”

“No, not since last night. Maybe she just needs some time alone” she reassured, placing her hand on his shoulder. The gesture soothing his worried thoughts.

“Yeah maybe you’re righ—“ Arthur didn’t get to finish his sentence as the cutting voice of Leopold Strauss interrupted him.

“Herr Morgan, Herr Morgan. Busy, my friend ?” The Austrian man approached him, a folded piece of paper in hand.

Arthur's shoulders dropped. He dreaded working for Strauss, but the older man was persistent, always ready with another fella to squeeze dry for some cash. Sure, the money helped keep the gang afloat, put food on the table, and clothes on the backs of the women and children, but the work, well, the work was dirty. It was the kind of work that gnawed at a man’s conscience.

“What is it now,” Arthur turned to face him, Abigail excusing herself, patting his back before leaving to wake Jack up. Strauss handed him the piece of paper, fortunately for Arthur only one name was scribbled down. ‘Gwyn Hughes’

“He’s an undertaker in Rhodes, he shouldn’t be giving you any trouble but he’s a slippery fellow. Just scare him and collect the debt” he explained. Arthur sighed accepting the job, wondering when all this loan sharking business would come to an end. You always hated when he’d go out dealing with Strauss’ business, saying how the gang should steal from the rich to help the poor and not steal from the poor to help the poor. He knew deep down inside of him you were right, but unfortunately money is money and with the gang’s situation looking far from good, every single cent counted.

He put the paper in his satchel before walking towards the hitching post, his gaze falling on your Tennessee Walker before mounting his horse.

“Oi english!” Sean called out from his lookout post “you look like shit this mornin’”

“Yeah well, don’t I always,” Arthur groaned before signaling his horse to move forward.

The collection of the debt turned out stranger than Arthur ever imagined. As it turned out Gwyn Hughes, the debtor, planned to pay back his debt by robbing a woman’s grave and as if that wasn’t enough he tasked Arthur to clear the cemetery and eventually stop the people from coming in. By noon, Arthur left Rhodes with a diamond brooch, a few bruises on his face and a confused conscience.

He returned to camp exhausted, his body and mind heavy, the dirty work weighed heavily on him as he hitched his horse near camp. All he wanted now was to see you, hear the sweet sound of your voice, even if you’d yell at him. He just wanted to see you. But as he ventured inside the camp, the usual hum of chatter was gone, the atmosphere heavy. Something was off. Abigail and Sadie were the first to come up to him, Abigail face pale while Sadie scanned around camp anxiously.

“Arthur,” the brunette called out, her voice rising with an edge of worry as they hurried towards him. “She ain’t been back”

Arthur’s heart skipped a beat “Wha—What do you mean she ain’t been back ? Nobody’s seen her ?”

“Last time I saw her was last night, I was on lookout and saw her headin’ out towards the woods, thought she was goin’ for a walk” Sadie explained, her expression filled with worry. “I asked ‘round camp and no one has seen her today”

His stomach dropped as numerous possibilities of what could’ve happened to you flashed through his mind. Without muttering a word to the two women, Arthur stormed over to Dutch’s tent, the latter standing outside talking to Hosea about the recent developments on the Gray-Braithwaite situation. The moment they saw Arthur approaching their conversation dissolved, the look on his face signaling them that something was off.

“What’s the matter Arthur ?” Dutch asked, concern dancing in his eyes.

“It’s about her, she went out last night and no one has seen her since” he explained, his voice strained. Dutch expression hardened

“You think something happened to her ?”

“I do, yeah”

“Alright then better move quickly, Charles! Bill !” Dutch called, his voice reverberating across the camp calling out the two men. “Arthur’s Miss is missing. I want you two to go out with him, see if you can track her down. The others, I want all eyes on the perimeters of camp, if she comes back you holler. Nobody moves from camp.”

Charles, who had been crafting some poisonous arrows near by the campfire, quickly dropped his task as he listened to what happened. He quickly gathered all his gear and began to move towards the horses, Bill just a few paces behind him.

“We’ll find her, Arthur. She’s gonna be okay” Hosea consoled him, but the older man's words did little to calm Arthur’s racing heart.

Within minutes, the three men were mounted on their horses and heading into the woods where Sadie had last seen you. Arthur’s mind was racing, a dangerous storm of fear and anger bubbling beneath the surface. He couldn’t lose you, not like this. Not after everything that happened.

The woods were dense, the tall trees casting deep shadows that made it difficult to see much of anything, but luckily Charles was an expert tracker, the hunter’s keen eyes scanning every inch of the ground for any sign of you.

After what felt like an eternity for Arthur, Charles held up his hand, signaling the other two men to stop. He dismounted Taima and crouched down, examining something on the ground. Arthur quickly joined him, his breath catching in his throat as he saw what his friend had found.

It was her bracelet, the golden one he had gifted you for your first anniversary. The small wristlet laid in the dirt, the delicate chain now broken. Arthur felt the whole world crashing down on him as he picked it up, his hands shaking in a mix of anger and fear.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

As the hours dragged on, you struggled to stay alert. The pain in your head had dulled to a persistent ache, but every muscle in your body screamed in protest with every small movement. Your wrist burned, blood dripping down your hands as you tried to wriggle them out of your ropes, the process slow and agonizing, but you could feel the ropes loosening further and further. You just needed to grit your teeth through the pain. The men had become less concerned about you, talking and drunkenly laughing amongst themselves, making you nauseous at their inhumanity.

Then a man entered the cabin, followed by two others behind him. He was tall and well built, his hairline receding leaving his hair to hang awkwardly on the sides. By the way he dragged himself around you deduced he was their leader. He crouched down beside you, his face dangerously close to yours, his breath fanning in your face making you scrunch your nose at the rancid smell of his breath. He reached out to check your ropes, tightening them furthermore, the action causing bolts of pain to shoot through your body.

“What was a pretty lady like yourself doing all alone in the woods mh?” He took out the now drenched piece of cloth out of your mouth. You swallowed, feeling your dry throat burning at the action.

You couldn’t muster the strength to respond. Your head lolled to the side as the man stepped back, a sinister grin plastered on his face. Then a harsh, stinging sensation hit your cheek.

“I said what were you doing all alone in the woods, slut” Tears welled in your eyes, both from the pain and the hopelessness of your situation. Your thoughts kept drifting back to Arthur. You had to hold on, had to find a way to escape, if not for yourself, then for him. He would come for you—you knew it deep down in your heart, but you needed to survive until then.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

Arthur’s eyes burned with anger and fear. He clenched his fists around the bracelet, his mind racing. “She was here,” Charles said quietly, his voice grim. “And she wasn’t alone. Look at these tracks, it seems like there was a struggle. She was taken.”

“By who?” asked Bill.

Charles pointed his finger to the ground, where the faint outline of various boot prints led away from their spot. “Judging by the tracks, it looks like a group of men. Three, maybe four. Could be Lemoyne Raiders. They must’ve grabbed her and taken her somewhere nearby. At this point the only place near is the old moonshine distillery.”

Arthur’s blood ran cold at the thought of you in the hands of the Raiders. The Lemoyne Raiders were known for their brutality, his encounter a few weeks prior with Sadie confirmed their reputation. The thought of what they could be doing to you filled him with a rage so intense it nearly consumed him.

“We find their hideout, and we get her out,” Arthur said through gritted teeth, already mounting up on his horse “I’m gonna kill all them goddamned bastards. I don’t care what it takes.”

Mounting their horses they followed the tracks, the three men riding fast through the woods. Thankfully it hadn’t rained so the trail was still clearly visible. It led them deeper into the Bayou region, the trees growing thicker and the air heavier with humidity and tension.

Finally, after what felt like hours, they spotted the moonshine distillery through the trees. It was a crumbling mess of buildings, half-hidden by the vegetation in the shadows, but there was no mistaking it. A few horses were tethered outside, and faint light flickered from the windows of an old cabin.

Arthur’s heart pounded as he dismounted. Charles and Bill followed him as they hid behind a crumbled stone wall, his hand instinctively reaching for his gun. Their eyes scanned the area, there was a man guarding the horses while a group of five others were sitting near by the campfire, drinking and laughing with each other. He exchanged a quick glance with Bill and Charles. This was it. They’d kill those bastards outside, storm the cabin, take out anyone who stood in their way, and get you out of there.

“Let’s go, I’ll take that guard near the horses out” Bill whispered, his voice steady with resolve. He made quick work of killing the guard, his knife glimmering just a second in the light before settling into the man’s neck. Charles and Arthur joined Bill in action. Arthur was the first to shoot his gun, the bullet piercing clean through one of the men’s chest. Then all hell broke loose.

Bullets went flying as the Lemoyne Raiders spotted them, the air filled with smoke and gunpowder as both sides fought violently. Their position didn’t offer too much cover, the Lemoyne Raiders, although drunk, fought hard, their guns never stopping. A stray bullet scraped Arthur’s arm but that didn’t stop him as he barely registered it. His mind was singularly focused on one thing—getting to you before it was too late. And in just a few minutes Arthur, Charles and Bill managed to take down all five men outside. Moving quickly out of their cover they reached the front of the cabin, and with a nod from Arthur, they burst through the door.

Chaos erupted as they stormed inside. The few Lemoyne Raiders inside the cabin barely had time to react before Bill and Charles opened fire, cutting them down where they stood. Arthur moved with deadly precision, his eyes scanning the room for any sign ofyou. And then he saw you, tied to a chair in the corner of the room, your face bruised, wrist bloody but alive. You were alive

The last of the Raiders fell as Arthur rushed to your side, his hands quickly working to untie the ropes that bound you so tightly. Your eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, you thought this was just your mind playing tricks but tears welled up in your eyes falling rapidly down your face when you realized it wasn’t your mind playing tricks, it was really him. Arthur had found you.

“Arthur,” you barely whispered, your voice hoarse and weak.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Arthur murmured, his voice shaking as he finally freed you from the chair. He quickly checked you for more injuries before pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he’d never let go. “I’ve got you sweetheart. You’re safe now.” You were still in shock from the whole ordeal, overwhelmed by the mix of emotions—fear from the attack, but also a deep, undeniable relief that Arthur was there with you. In this moment you both forgot your fight, your mixed feelings and both held each other, the intensity of the moment washing over you. You held each other for a few seconds longer before separating. A strange turmoil of emotion took over you as you looked around the room seeing the body of your kidnappers unmoving on the ground. Unable to look at them a second more you diverted your attention back to the group of outlaws in front of you.

The first who broke the silence that fell around you was Bill, awkwardly clearing his throat before adding “We need to get movin’ all this gunfight definitely caught someone’s attention”

Arthur offered his hand to you and you took it, using it as leverage to get yourself up to your feet. Your vision spotting for a second before coming back. You didn’t find in your heart to let go of his hand, his warm skin offering you peace. They escorted you out towards the horses. Arthur helping you up on his before sitting behind you, his strong arms holding you tightly to his chest giving you support. The last thing you felt was Arthur chaste kiss on your temple before you let yourself fall asleep.

––––– ✧ ✦ ✧ –––––

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm orange glow over the camp as the day slowly faded into night. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees surrounding your tent. Inside the tent, the air was still, heavy with unspoken words and lingering tension.

You were finally out of the cot after three days of recovery. The girls had come to check up on you in the morning, bringing you a mug of coffee and a pack of chocolate biscuits Mary Beth had managed to steal from the general store. The pain had dulled, your wounds were slowly healing, but the ache in your heart was still fresh, raw from everything that had happened. Arthur had barely left your side the entire time, his presence a constant, quiet comfort, but the words exchanged between you could count on your fingers. The silence between you two was loaded, filled with everything unsaid, with everything that had been tearing at you long before the kidnapping.

The both of you were now in your shared tent, you sat on the edge of the bed absently tracing the edge of an empty tin cup of peaches with your fingers. The room felt suffocating, but you knew you couldn’t keep avoiding this conversation any longer. The memory of those letters, the sight of Arthur and Mary together in Rhodes, his lies. it all still stung, a wound that hadn’t yet healed.

Arthur was seated on the small chair at the foot of the bed, his head hung low, hands toying with the rope that wrapped around his worn hat, face brim as if bracing himself for what was to come. He had watched over you, cared for you, over the past three days but there was a palpable distance between you two now that neither of you could ignore. You could see the lines of worry etched into his face, the guilt that had been gnawing at him for days.

Finally, you broke the silence. Your voice barely above a whisper “Arthur, we need to talk.”

He looked up at you, his aqua eyes filled with a mixture of sadness and something else, something that made your heart ache more at his sight. “I know,” he replied quietly, his voice rough and tired from the last couple sleepless nights. “I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout what happened, before all this mess.”

You took a deep breath, gathering the strength you needed to confront him, to confront the hurt that had been tearing at your heart. “You lied to me, Arthur. About the letters, about Mary. About everything.”

He winced at your words, the truth of them hitting him hard. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he said, his voice thick with regret. “I thought—I thought if I didn’t tell you, it would hurt less. That it wouldn’t matter, ‘cause it was supposed to be nothin’. But it was a mistake. I should’ve been honest with you from the start.”

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes, the pain of those memories sharp like the ghost of the tip of the Lemoyne Raider’s knife on your neck. “I saw you two together, Arthur. In Rhodes. You both looked so happy. It felt like, like my worst fears were coming true. Like I was losing you.”

Arthur stood up slowly, taking a tentative step in front of you. His hand reached out, but he stopped mid air, hesitating as if he wasn’t sure if he had the right to touch you. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you,” he repeated, his voice thick with emotion. “Mary, she just needed help after the passing of her husband. She didn’t have anyone else to turn to and I didn’t have the guts to shut her down. So I helped her. I didn’t want to drag you into it ‘cause I didn’t want you to worry.”

You looked up at him, searching his face for the truth. “But you lied, Arthur. And that hurt more than anything.”

He nodded, his expression pained. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry. I just didn’t want to make things worse between us. But I can see now that I did that anyway by not bein’ honest.” A tear slipped down your cheek, and you quickly wiped it away, trying to keep your composure. “I love you, Arthur. But I can’t live like this, I can’t live wondering if there’s something you’re not telling me, if there’s a part of you that’s still with her.”

Arthur’s face scrunched with regret. “There ain’t. I swear to you, there ain’t. She’s from another life, a life I walked away from a long time ago. Jt’s you I love darlin’. It’s always been you.”

You looked down at the tin cup in your hands the juice residue sloshing as you toyed with the cup, your fingers trembling with the heavy weight of your next decision. “I don’t know if I can just forget what happened Arthur, it hurt too much.”

He stepped closer, this time his hand gently cupped your cheek, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. “I don’t expect you to forget. All I’m askin’ you is to try. Try give us another chance. I’ll do better, I swear it. I’ll be honest with you, about everything. No more secrets.”

His touch was warm as his thumb stroked your cheek, comforting you and despite the hurt, you couldn’t deny that bright flame of love that still burned inside of you for him. You met his eyes, seeing the sincerity, the sheer desperation in them. He made a stupid mistake of thinking for you, but he was now acknowledging his mistake, he was willing to try and be a better man for you, a man you could see your future into.

You let your tears fall freely now as you nodded, your voice barely a whisper. “I want to try, Arthur. I want to believe in you, in us again.”

He kneeled down to your height and held you into his arms, holding you close as you cried against his chest, the tension of the past days finally breaking down. His hand gently stroked your hair, his voice a low murmur of comfort in your ear.

“We’ll make it work, I promise. We’ll get through this.”

[tojisun]

https://pin.it/5kO8Ict

bimbo reader and simon?! 🤭🎀

YES!! but most definitely price x weird gf!reader teehee <33 she looooves biting him :’>

….hey maybe price’s girl taught bimbo!reader the joys of marking up your man with deliberate (and non-sexual) bites

bimbo!reader gnawing on simon’s tatted arms for fun and simon pulling a silly and getting her teeth marks tattooed on his skin.

he comes home and shows it to you and you’re like ?? because duh you wanna mark him more and simon offers you his other arm like, “haha babe i really hope you didn’t forget i have two :D” and you’re just. back to gnawing <33

-;

weird gf!reader filling john’s arms and shoulders and neck with bite marks that john had to keep hiding them whenever he had to leave for work but he kept popping up with bandages and gauzes and it got everyone so worried that price finally gave up on hiding them and just showed up at the base with teeth indents on his skin. johnny screamed.

you roll your eyes at the story and john flicks at your nose gently, saying, “be nice.” and, in retaliation, you dig your teeth a tad deeper.

you expected john to complain about the pain and pull away, but when you look up, you see this utterly enamoured look on his face it makes you shy.

“why’d you stop?” john asks, almost pouting, when you pull away.

“stop looking at me like that, what the hell.”

[melonsodypop]

Hi! How about some silly fluff? Yakuza men and playing pocky game with them? uwu Thank you!

yakuza men and playing the pocky game with them !

✾ pairing - kazuma kiryu, goro majima, taiga saejima, shun akiyama, y0!akira nishikiyama, daigo dojima, ryuji goda/reader (all seperate)

✾ tags - gender neutral reader, fluff, suggestiveness in some sections

✾ a/n - ur brain is so huge because this is SUCH a cute idea and i would've never come up with it on my own :,3 <33 fluff is a bit harder for me to write so it's a little shorter than my other posts but i hope you all still enjoy !!

✾ kazuma kiryu 🐉

when you suggest playing it, bro just hits you with a blank stare

"what... is that?"

you decide just to give him a visual of what you mean by taking the stick out and putting it between your teeth

his eyes widen a little when you point at the other end of it and tell him to bite it

you can almost see the gears turning in his head. he's starting to get the point

you're fully expecting him to turn you down when he nods, that determined gleam he always has still in his eyes. "fine. i just need to bite down here, right?"

he feels ridiculous when he bends down and catches the pocky stick between his teeth, but when your hand comes up to cup his jaw and you bite a little closer his focus zeroes in entirely on you

you can practically see the way his pupils dilate when he takes his turn to bite, the increasing closeness of your lips driving him up the damn wall

it only takes another flutter of your eyelashes and an infuriatingly small nibble on your end before kiryu's biting down hard, snapping the stick between your mouths and just pressing his lips to yours

his hand comes up to cradle the back of your neck, his frustration pouring into the kiss before he finally softens, pulling away to look you in the eyes

the tips of his ears are a bright red, and his brow is furrowed in the way it does when he's thoroughly embarrassed

"that... wasn't half bad," he mutters, "but if you wanted to kiss me... you could've just asked"

despite his fluster, he can't get the image of you so close to him with the little treat between your lips and the taste of chocolate on his tongue when you kissed out of his head for the next week

✾ goro majima 🐍

his lips curl in interest when you ask him to play the game with you

you don't know HOW but he somehow already knows what it is, preemptively taking a stick from the box in your hands and putting the end between his teeth

waggles his eyebrows at you and guffaws when you get embarrassed

"aren't you the one who suggested it, babydoll? don't get all shy on me now"

bends down and slings an arm lazily around your shoulders when you take the other end into your mouth

keeps eye contact with you almost the entire time, his good eye gleaming with satisfaction at being this close to you

every turn he takes is a short little bite, determined to draw this out as looong as possible

it's just a good excuse to stay close to you, anyways

the smirk on his lips only grows when your lips are mere centimeters apart, his hand sliding up to gently hold your chin in place

he can tell his proximity is starting to get to you, the air thick with the scent of tobacco and his expensive cologne

but neither of you are the type to back down, returning his barely-there bites with your own

majima's the one to kiss you at the end, his grip on your chin tightening ever so slightly

when he parts, he licks his bottom lip to get the bit of chocolate left there, never resisting a chance to rile you up a bit

"well, wasn't that a treat? hey - how many are left in there, doll? i'm thinkin' i might wanna play a few more rounds"

✾ taiga saejima 🐅

oh boy good LUCK trying to convince this man to play

he has no idea what it is when you suggest it, and after you explain it he's still not really sold

he's not a huge fan of sweets in the first place, plus if he wanted to kiss you he just would do it

he'll grumble and brush you off when you whine and try to convince him

that is, until he catches the puppy eyes you're giving him

well, fuck. how is he supposed to say no to that

he can't even look you in the eyes when he bends his head down to bite the end of the pocky, the corner of his lips twitching when the chocolate starts to melt on his tongue

caresses the back of your head gently as you crane your neck up to look at him

you take your turn first, saejima's eyes trained on the way your lips wrap around the stick

you can feel his hand's grip tighten slightly on the nape of your neck, his jaw tensing

lets out a hiss through his teeth when you look up at him, expecting him to take his turn

everything about you - your eyes trained upwards at him, the pout of your lips, the way your eyebrows furrow in confusion at his reluctance to take his bite

a grumble comes from his chest before he's reaching up with his other hand to snap the stick in two, crashing his mouth onto yours

his kiss is hungry, his hands on your body possessive and firm

when he pulls away, he's shaking his head, an uncharacteristic blush on his usually stoic face

"fuckin' hell, can't focus when ya look at me like that," he grumbles, pulling you to his chest and pressing an apologetic kiss to the top of your head for ruining your little game

✾ shun akiyama 💵

cocks an eyebrow at you when you suggest it, an interested smile pulling at the corner of his lips

"y'know, babe, if you wanted to kiss me, you could just ask"

relents as soon as you pout and say it's more fun this way

leans back in his chair and pats his thigh, his ever-present smug look as he invites you into his lap

is the one to pull the stick from the box in your hands, placing it lazily between his lips like a cigarette

raises his eyebrows expectantly at you as you stammer and splutter, one hand lazily resting on your hip and his other arm across the back of the couch

"c'mon, sweetheart - it's just you n' me, nothing to be embarrassed about"

his smirk grows as you bite down on the other end, an amused laugh rumbling in his chest

uses his hand not on your hip to cup your face, guiding you a little closer to him as he takes his turn to bite

probably winks at you at some point while you're taking a turn just to fluster you even more

teases you by moving his head back when you try to finally lean in and kiss him

he can't help but tease you - he's always thought the way you pout is so, so cute

he finally closes the gap between you two once you've pouted enough, tilting your face up so he can kiss you deeply

his chest swells with affection when you grasp at the lapels of his suit jacket, chuckling as he pulls away just to leave another affectionate peck on the tip of your nose

"have i ever told you how cute you are?"

he has, many times - but he'll tell you again and again, peppering your face with kisses until you're laughing and telling him to stop

✾ akira nishikiyama 🎏

smirks when you walk up to him with the stick in your mouth, already knowing where you were going with this

"alright, you're on"

probably complains that you took the frosted side for yourself

holds you by the hips as he bites down on his end, cocking an eyebrow at you suggestively

he's trying to look you in the eyes, he really is - but he can't take the way off your lips, the way they're so prettily wrapped around the stick making his mind wander

you can tell when nishiki's distracted, and a little idea forms in your head

he's dragged back down to reality when he hears the snap of the pocky breaking between the two of you

he lets out a choked noise of surprise as you pull him down to press your lips to his

his eyes flutter shut as he finally lets himself relax into the kiss

he can taste the remnants of melted chocolate on your lips and your tongue, his brow furrowing slightly as tilts your chin up so he can kiss you deeper

there's a slight smirk on his lips when you pull away, letting out an amused scoff

"you cheated, you little-"

he doesn't even let himself finish the sentence before he's tugging you close by the hips to kiss you again

playfully wraps his arms around your shoulders and keeps you pinned against him, peppering your face with kisses as punishment for your betrayal

doesn't stop until you're both laughing so hard that you're tearing up, nishiki picking you up by the waist and spinning you around

"you're lucky i love you so much, you little minx"

✾ daigo dojima ⚔️

you can practically see the steam come out of daigo's ears when you ask him to play the game with you

he's never really been one for such... cheeky gestures of affection

but if you really want it, he supposes he'll have to oblige despite his embarrassment

it's not like he's unfamiliar with the game, anyways - he's frequented enough cabaret clubs in his white puffer jacket era to see every lovey-dovey little game there is

surprisingly, he takes the initiative to put the pocky in his mouth first, gently pulling you closer by the waist

"well? this is what you wanted, isn't it?" he asks through his teeth

a bit of his reluctance is shaved away when he actually sees you bite down on the other end, your proximity intoxicating

it's subtle, but you know him well enough to recognize the gleam of interest in his eyes

plays by the rules, politely waiting for his turn and biting down a respectable amount

that is, until you guys get about three inches apart and he suddenly takes a way larger bite than before, forcing his lips to be a breath's away from yours

he keeps his facial expression neutral as he watches you flounder, caught off-guard by his sudden playfulness

he raises his eyebrows at you expectantly - he's not saying it verbally, but you know he's challenging you

he watches every little twitch of your eyebrows and dart of your eyes with amused intrigue, interested in what you were gonna do next

he's pleasantly surprised when you take the initiative to bite down the rest of the pocky, your soft lips melding against his

he cradles your face in his hands gently, moving his lips slowly against yours

presses your foreheads together when you part, wrapping you up tightly in his arms and swaying you back and forth

"you always manage to surprise me, darling"

✾ ryuji goda 🐲

his brows furrow when you suggest the pocky game to him

"eh? what the hell is that?"

watches you intensely as you explain it - you almost change your mind about asking because he seems so disinterested

once you're done, he laughs out loud, amused greatly by the thought of such a silly little game

like saejima, he doesn't really see the point in doing a little song and dance before kissing, but hell if he'll back away from a challenge

"heh, sounds fuckin' dumb. let's do it"

has one hand tightly on your hip and the other slung around your shoulders as he bites down on the other end of the pocky

he can't help but snicker at the situation, his sharp canines gleaming in the light

you nod, indicating for him to take his turn first

but you're taken by surprise when he just bites off the rest of the pocky, his lips firmly pressed against yours

he laughs at the surprised expression on your face when he pulls away, always endlessly entertained by all the ways he can surprise you

"what's wrong, doll? ya never told me how far i could or couldn't bite"

can't help but ruffle your hair when you pout up at him, laughing gruffly

presses a kiss to each of your cheeks to placate you, satisfaction swelling in his chest when he makes you smile again

[anisespice]

heyy

can i request hanma w reader who has abandonment issues? if you don’t write for that kind of topic it’s fine!!(:

take care!!<33

of course! thank u for the request anon, sorry for the delay <3 had to do some more research into the topic, and brush up on my hanma lol hope you enjoy :)) !!

pairing: hanma x gn!reader

warnings: mature language, MDI, crude jokes, violence, cringy/cornball behavior lol and hanma gets his own warning, not proof read, sorry for any errors!! and i think that’s it :)

notes: SO SORRY FOR TAKING LITERALLY A WHOLE YEAR TO MAKE THIS ANON, i wanted to do a little bit of research on the topic (ended up learning a little about myself LMAO) but it’s finally done! i’m happy with how it turned out, and i figured this format would work perfectly, so i hope you enjoy!! <333

tagged: @fantasycantasy , @illegalspacecow, @captaincyberqueen

I struggled with the idea of how Hanma would be like with someone with abandonment issues/anxious attachment. At first, I figured he’d be the absolute worst in terms of handling someone with such an intense need for validation and reassurance, but after some further contemplation I realized how he’d be the absolute best—To the most unhealthily healthy degree, if that makes sense. Let me explain:

“yo, who’s blowing up your phone?”

“jeez, your s/o again? talk about excessive”

“couldn’t be me, bro. if i was you, i’d set a boundary-”

hanma wouldn’t miss a beat by giving them a dangerous grin and say, “i’ll a set a boundary for your fucking teeth if you say another word about my s/o.”

then, in the same beat, he’ll answer your call with a whole different energy, like, “hey doll, my love, my sweet, my sexy” something corny like that

you’d express that he said he’d be back around 9, and it was pushing 9:30…

he’d chuckle fondly, “aw, you miss me that bad? you’re obsessed, doll, it’s adorable.~”

the guys with him would watch in shock as the usually violent, and quick to annoyance, shuji hanma was…understanding? patient??

i hc hanma to be so so so patient with you whenever you get that intense clingy feeling, or talk yourself into thinking he’s sick of you and your neediness

like

homie WANTS you to want him

even to an unhealthy attached degree, sign him up, yes ma’am, yes ham, yes turkey

if you do get into those moods of feeling like he’ll leave you, TRUST that he’s gonna feed into it just a little bit (he’s a bit of a sadistic bastard) only to shower you with every possible reassurance until you are drowning in him him HIM

“why you cryin’, hm? i said i’ll be back, what, you think i’ll just up and leave? never come back?”

“hm, maybe i should do that, make you miss me a little more, yeah?”

but, once he sees you’re really torn up about the thought, he’d gather you in his arms with a small, teasing grin, kissing your tears away and telling you how silly you’re being

“baby, i’d rather get shot in both of my legs than ever think of leaving you”

“you couldn’t get rid of me even if you begged”

“no more cryin’, kay? i hate seeing you cry…unless it’s for different reasons” he’d suggest, earning a weak hit to his arm for being a pervert

he’d snigger, holding you up until your legs wrapped around his waist, “how bout you just come with me then, hm?”

he’s not perfect, far from it, but he tries

he’ll tease, and poke, and push but he always has his moments where he takes your situation deathly serious

like

let someone talk shit about you in anyway, whether it’s about how you need to touch him a lot, or constantly text/call just to hear his voice, or accuse him of this that and the third, just let someone TRY it and he finds out about it

“man, i don’t know how he puts up with them”

“yeah, his s/o clearly has some issues..”

“god forbid he’s gone for more than ten minutes, it’s like they’re some kind of parasite-“

the air in the room shifts DRASTICALLY when they eventually notice hanma standing there, with you at his side looking more than upset

how long he’d been there didn’t matter…the damage was done as soon as those idiots spoke your name

if looks could kill, they’d be playing uno w the devil right about now and losing

hanma looked rather calm. but his eyes told a different story as the gold shined bright with malicious intent

he slowly grinned, tilting his head “oh? don’t stop on our account. keep talkin’. i wanna know what else you think.”

none dared to even blink

you sniffled, embarrassed, ready to bolt out of there, but hanma’s grip on your hand doesn’t falter, merely pulling you closer as he rested his chin on your head

you wiggled for a moment, but hanma wasn’t letting you go anywhere

he called out your name, making you stop as he turned you in his hold to have you look him in the eye

“stay right here. i want you to see just how much i love you. my little parasite.~”

hanma had you stand there and witness what happens whenever someone dares to speak on you and your relationship, solidifying his devotion and loyalty to you and you only

as those guys laid in a pool of their own blood, hanma still took the time to shower you in love and his undivided attention

he’d wipe your tears with bloodstained hands and kiss you hard on the mouth

“you’ll never be too much for me, [_____].”

© 2023-2024 anisespice ッ all rights reserved. likes, comments & reblogs much appreciated!

[pinkpastels113]

romance is not dead (if you keep it just yours)

also on ao3

a/n:

for @mcrololo and @shikariix <33 did i listen to paris by taylor swift and enchanted on repeat the entire time while writing this?? maybe... also thanks for the idea/encouragement to write this based on this tumblr post @pyresrpgear!! hope you like this as well :))

People often forget that you can find romance in the most mundane of things, that love exists in the most simplest of gestures.

Chloe was getting some water at the fountain in the common area of Beca’s music label when one of these moments happened.

“Shoot your shot!”

Chloe turns at the sound of the man’s voice behind her. It belonged to one of Beca’s coworkers and she can just make out him slipping behind the wall of the opening to the common area with a subtle wink before her attention lands on Beca, her wife, walking towards her, her own water bottle in tow.

Chloe grins, as she always does when in the same vicinity as the love of her life. “Fancy meeting you here!”

Beca chuckles, nervously, and lifts a hand to rub it at the nape of her neck as if working up the courage to pop the following question:

“You’re really cute. Wanna go out with me?”

Her dark blue eyes are downcast, just like that time eight years ago when they were both in their twenties in university, high on the serotonin and adrenaline of yet another win with their Bellas, after a group hug, when Beca had also asked her out with the same expression, her bottom lip snagged between her teeth and a hopeful lift to her eyebrows. 

Chloe’s heart leaps in her chest in the exact same way back then, too, now, like she had been waiting forever for that feeling, that confirmation, that Beca liked her back in that all consuming, I-might-be-sick overwhelming way that Chloe had felt towards her best friend ever since she’d joined their silly little acapella group. 

(Even though Chloe considers herself a romantic– she had been reading romance novels ever since middle school, after all– she feels like Beca might just secretly be a bigger one.)

She sets aside her water cup, reaches forward and repeats the gesture with Beca’s, in favor of taking both of Beca’s hands in hers. Beca’s fingers were cold, so she threads them together and squeezes to breathe some warmth into them. 

“Yes. Of course I would love to go out with you.”

Beca’s face lit up, like a dang near Christmas tree, and her lips quirk into a huge relieved smile just like they did when Chloe had first said yes all those years ago as well. (Pft, as if Chloe could say no.) She returns Chloe’s squeeze. 

“Cool beans.”

And it may be cheesy, and corny, and just a tad bit dumb especially since both of their matching wedding rings are digging into their skins, but it still made Chloe’s day. She already knew that nothing would wipe that dopey grin off her face for the next twenty four hours, and she’s completely satisfied with that fact.

When they got home later that day, after dinner and they’re cuddling on the couch with the heater on and a movie playing in the background, Chloe talks about it, mentioning the shoot your shot comment.

“Was he new or something? What was that about?”

Beca snorts, burying her face into the crook of Chloe’s neck where her breath ghosts over Chloe’s collarbones, “Nah. I told him that I was about to ask out the hottie at the fountain and he’s simply encouraging me. He knows that we’re married, Chlo. Just cheering me on like the dork that he is.”

“Like the dork that you are, you mean,” Chloe corrects, pressing a soft kiss to the center of Beca’s forehead. She finds the whole thing incredibly cute, even though it was small and mundane.

Who says romance is dead just because you’re married? It survives even past death, unlike those classic vows for marriage.

[catiuskaa]

putting to good use

a short sub!jisung smut because he has been going crazy this comeback and I know it for a fact.

posting bc i have 33 drafts and its making me and tumblr a bit crazy lol

MY MAN NEEDS TO CHILL BECAUSE WOW MAN I CAN HANDLE UP TO A POINT

WC: 0.9k

you had always been Jisung’s utmost supporter, his number 1 fan, and with the last comeback, who could blame his partner for wanting to reward all his hard effort?

“Jagi, i’m home!” He greeted, the smile on his face rolling off on his cheeky tone of voice. Jisung giggled softly at the loud hum you let out as a greeting.

He left his coat on the entrance and then walked to the small office/studio you had both created in the apartment so you two could work from home, soundproof panels adding to the vibe and making it clear that there was an artist among you two.

“Oh, hi baby, how was your day? Aww, it was good, jagi, thanks for asking!” He mocked, resting his shoulder on the doorframe.

You stared at him from above the computer screen, your hand fidgeting with your lips, then just nibbling on them, quickly eyeing back to the device.

Han’s eyebrows shot up. He chewed on his lip, wondering if maybe he had done something to annoy you?

What would normally happen was that you'd smile at him, take your headphones off, and hug him tightly. Not just acknowledge his presence with a hum and a nod, your eyes glued to your computer.

Lost in thought, he went over to the kitchen and took a pack of instant noodles for himself. But he hadn´t finished setting up the pot to heat up the water when your arms slithered their way to his waist, turning him and caging him against the countertop, bodies tight against one another.

"J-Jagi?" He stuttered, flustered from head to toe.

"Thought I wouldn't do anything about it, huh?" Your sly snicker sent chills all over his body, and he gasped when your hips pushed him further against the counter. "You, looking hot, and sweaty, and all bothered on stage..."

Each aspect numbered had been accompanied by a gentle thrust of your hips, and Jisung couldn't —wouldn't— dare to hide the little whimpers that came out of his mouth. You smirked, pressing soft kisses on the corner of his mouth.

"And, that silly little video... taking your jacket off your shoulders... and sticking your tongue out, breathless?" Whispers followed the trail of open-mouthed kisses from his jaw to his shoulders, leaving lipstick stains on the way, and Han's legs wobbled in place, still trying to process what was happening.

He panted when you moved away slightly, almost failing to hold his weight on the counter behind him, feeling the cold marble pressed on his lower back, in contrast to how hot you had made him feel in the blink of an eye.

"I- I just..." he muttered, trying to get back his mind, which turned blank at your movements but was quickly silenced when you bit his lip.

You had never done anything like this. Yes, you liked to talk in bed sometimes, but never so dominating, never making him feel like he was yours to touch, and yours only.

He needed more. Now.

"Oh, baby." You cooed at him. He was seeing stars already, his body reacting to your touch and your whispers in a way he had never felt before. "If you stick your tongue out, you might as well be prepared to use it."

The kiss that followed was messy, like a flame that burned its way down his body, a mix of teeth and tongue that made him crazy. You then cradled his face in your hands and pressed his lips against yours, pulling him tightly against you. His mouth was fierce and eager, kissing you deeply, as if it were the only thing that mattered in the world. He didn't want to stop, so he kept pushing you against him, his fingers tangled in your hair as he held you close, his other hand weakly helping his body stay in place.

"I'm going to put that little mouth of yours to good use. Would you like that, baby?"

He was blushing furiously when you nibbled on his ear, waiting for him to reply, but you laughed when he nodded eagerly.

"Speak, baby. If we're going to do this, I need you to say what you want."

He panted, arousal flooding his body, his mind only able to focus on your body and your voice.

"F-Fuck, darling, please–"

You moved away from him, and he almost fell to the floor, breathing heavily.

You softly took his cheek in your hand, his skin hot and red.

"Such a good boy."

He couldn't help but groan now as he felt the anticipation build up inside him. He felt he was going to wake up at any moment because whatever was going on right now felt like a motherfucking dream.

Jisung let out a flustered sigh when you pushed him to the couch, your thigh spreading his legs open just enough to make him suddenly crave more.

"Be a good boy and don't move now, yeah?"

You felt his body tensing underneath your touch when you bent over, your hands resting on his thighs.

"Are you getting shy, baby?" You whispered tenderly at him, your tone completely different from before. He blushed deeply, not able to look at you when he nodded.

You raised your body and kissed him softly, a loving gesture that made Jisung feel butterflies not only on his belly, but all over his body.

“You are absolutely and undeniably beautiful, and you have no reason to worry about how you look or sound right now. Just enjoy it, baby.”

He cradled your face and kissed you tenderly.

You smiled. "Sit back and relax. I'll have my fun now."

~Kats, who had to stop because she got blocked and started laughing and giggling.

[after-witch]

character interactions ! as a fan, i couldn't have asked for a lovelier way to spend christmas with this blog <33 thanks for all the comfort you provide with your yanderes ^^ could we have a tearily whispered "Please ... please, I want to feel the touch of summer again ... Won't you let me? Even just for a moment?" for your winter spirit? he still my all-time favorite yandere !

thank you for the nice message!

note: yandere, uhhh general folklorey fae stuff

--

You blink so prettily as the words tumble from your lips; frozen midwinter dewdrops cling to your lashes. He can't help but lean forward and kiss them, and you close your eyes dutifully to let him do so.

Such a pretty thing, such a sweet thing. The perfect companion to his eternal travels, even though now and then, had silly notions like this.

But ah, he can't forget. You were mortal once, and some part of you is mortal still. Some stubborn part that remembers what it is like to glow with an inner warmth, what it was like to live among the seasons so freely.

"My sweet, my beauty," he says, taking up your gloved hand and giving it a kiss. "If you asked, I would freeze the world for you. I would shut up the rivers and lakes until no man-knife could break it, I would

He kisses each of your gloved fingers. Your breath comes out in white puffs, slow, hopeful. He savors each puff of white mist that brushes the air.

"But," he continues, dropping his voice, "this thing you ask can never be. My lovely thing. My poor thing. " Your lip twitches, and begins to tremble. You might cry, he thinks, but your tears are so pretty when they freeze on your cheek.

"The touch of summer would never reach you, no matter how much I wanted to grant your wish. You would melt away into the streams of the mountain long before the summer sun kissed you, and you would stay there, weeping, until the winter came and froze you again."

He smiles, airily, sharp points of teeth showing. "Perhaps we may sit on the edge of winter and spring for a moment this year?" He rarely did so, because the melting snows and sludge-like grass was a far cry from the beautiful glistening snowy meadows and frozen trees he preferred to roam. But for you, he will endure.

You nod, and draw your furs closer around you.

[c0la-queen]

I absolutely LOVE your writing, it's so nice to see eddsworld content especially this good <33 can I request Tord with a very shy partner? No pressure ofc, take your time!

Thank you!!! My neurons were absolutely firing with this piece, for realsies. It may not be exaactly what you envisioned? And I was trying not to make the Reader be the stereotypical "uwu im so shy sowwy" kind of shy? You know what I mean? Either way, I hope you enjoy, and if its not quite what you wanted, PLEASE feel free to send me an inbox message letting me know !!!

Run, Rabbit, Run. | Tord x Shy! Reader

Warnings: Mostly Tord's POV, not the fluffiest? it has a happy ending, but Tord is naturally a kind of fucked-up person.

---

Tord had a problem.

He doesn't have problems often, and certainly not problems he can't solve.

It wasn't every day that he wanted to be around someone - craved it. He acted like he only tolerated his roommates, kept the truth locked away under thick layers of steel.

But you. He sought you out, needed you like it ached. Your presence.

You, however, ran from him. Every time. Fled like a rabbit that had caught a glimpse of the stalking wolf. Scurried back to your burrow, safe and protected by densely packed earth. Where he could not reach you. It grinded at his patience, made him clench his jaw hard enough to crack a tooth. He walked into a room, you found an excuse to walk out. It was a constant among the chaos and unpredictability of their house.

The one thing that he needed like a dying man, and he couldn't have it. You wouldn't give it to him.

A problem.

He was going to fix this problem, if it meant the death of him.

And who was he but a stubborn man?

--

His opportunity came during a lazy Sunday afternoon.

The other three were all out, running errands and such. You were still home. Doing laundry, from the sound of it. He wasn't surprised, you liked to use Sunday as the day to do your household chores, reset for the coming week - not that he had been paying attention to your habits. No. Just coincidence.

From the garage, he could hear you. The wall that his workbench sat against was one that was shared with the laundry room, so it wasn't difficult. If he sat still, focused enough, he could practically imagine it. You, in your crop t-shirt and little sleep shorts that you always wore when you did laundry. Hair pushed out of your face. Dancing along to the music that he could hear playing from your phone - doing those silly, awkward dance moves that you did when you thought nobody was looking.

He wanted to be there. It was selfish, he knew. But that little undamaged piece of him sitting in his chest longed to join you. Insert himself into the little life that you had carved out for yourself in their house. Slot his own being so nicely beside your peace and quiet. You were so… unlike him. You were soft, sweet. Like the skolebrød of his childhood. You were vanilla and sugar. Unmarred by anything horrible in the world. That self-centered part of him wanted to take. To clamp his jaws down around your hind legs and sink his teeth in when you tried to escape.

Tord was moving before he even realized it.

You had moved out of the laundry room. Your music faded as you walked further into the house. If he remembered correctly (That phrase tasted bittersweet on his tongue. As much as he craved you, he didn't want to admit how actively he was chasing you. A wolf that resented the rabbit.) you would set about doing the dishes after depositing your empty laundry basket in your bedroom.

His mouth was dry. So he moved to the kitchen. To get water. (That's what he would tell you. That's what he would tell anybody who asked.)

The switch from the garage to the house was always jarring to the senses. The garage was cold, unprotected from the autumn chill. But the house was warm. Welcoming. Safe. (You were inside.) It was like sitting under a hot shower after catching hypothermia.

He stopped in the doorway.

There you were. In the kitchen. Dishwasher open. Your smartwatch was discarded on the kitchen table alongside your phone and water bottle. Music was still playing from the device's speakers. You were, just as he guessed, wearing your crop tee and shorts. (The collar was hanging low on one of your shoulders, bearing the skin to his vision. His hands itched.) You hadn't noticed him yet. Little rabbit unaware of the danger that lurks in the forest underbrush.

It was something beautiful watching you in your own little world. In public, you were so small. Reserved. Put a cork on your personality so that nobody could truly see who you were. To you, it felt like security. If nobody had access to your identity, then nobody could take it away. Nobody could judge you. Even home, with the boys, you were less than yourself. Not to the same degree, but still limited. They didn't take offense to it, they knew it wasn't you distrusting them. It's just how you were. But here, when you thought you were alone? The cork was removed and he loved to watch the bottle overflow.

You spun on your heel and nearly dropped the bowls in your hand from how hard you flinched at the sight of him. He could see the way that you drew in to yourself, made yourself smaller.

"Oh, um, hey. Tord. I didn't… realize you were home."

There was something tight in his chest at the way you looked so nervous. You shifted in your spot, looked anywhere but at him. He wanted you to look at him.

"I am."

You only answered with a soft 'oh' before turning back to the dishwasher. He remained still, watching. Clearly, you were looking for a way out, a chance to flee. Something he wasn't going to let happen.

"I should probably-"

"You keep avoiding me."

Your head shot up, looking up at him with wide, pretty eyes. He dug his fingernails into his palms.

"What? No, no I haven't- I haven't been-"

"Do not lie to me."

It was cruel, yes, but it gave him the desired effect. You clammed up immediately. Shoulders slumped. Gave him just a little inch, but that was all he needed to take a mile. He stepped closer. You stepped back.

A snarling, drooling, hungry wolf, closing in on its prey.

Your back hit the counter. He stepped forward again.

A trembling little rabbit, cornered with nowhere to go.

He stopped a foot away from you.

"I have tolerated this for months. For months I have watched you run from the sight of me alone. As if the very idea of being in the same room as me is too much for you to bear. Do you even have any idea what you do to me? Do you know how it kills me?"

He could feel the way that you tensed up. A spike of anger stuck into his chest, burning hot. You weren't looking at him. You were looking at your shoes again. He forced his words out of his throat in the form of a growl.

"For fuck's sake, look at me. Look at- Look. At. Me."

Frustration boiled over, bubbling and spilling over the sides of the pot and he wasn't able to put the lid on it fast enough. He reached up and grabbed your jaw, holding it firmly between his index and thumb. Forced your eyes to focus on him. Only him.

A sick part of him preened at the little gasp that came out of your throat.

But you kept your eyes on him. Good girl.

"Tell me why you have been avoiding me."

His voice was softer now. He hated how much pain he could hear in it. How it trembled. He had hoped you wouldn't notice. But you did. Your mouth opened. Then closed. You swallowed thickly. Then you spoke.

"I thought…. thought you didn't like me."

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Him? Not like you? How could you think that? He could only hate you as much as a hunter hates Mother Earth for blessing him with food.

"You just… always seem so.. annoyed at me whenever I try to talk to you. And you never really… really talk back.. Just kinda… give short answers. I thought you found me annoying. I didn't want to keep annoying you. So I just… just backed off…."

He took a moment to process that. Let it all sink in.

He couldn't help it.

Tord began to laugh.

Through his laughter, he noticed you pout, heard a soft whine leave you. A groan ripped through his laugh at the sight. As if his body was working on autopilot, he surged forward. Pressed his lips to yours. He felt your gasp against his lips, then felt your melt into the kiss. You kissed back.

When his oxygen began to run short, he pulled away. Not too far, though. Kept his forehead pressed flush to yours. Took in the sight of you. You, panting softly, lips swollen from the kiss. Looking up at him through your pretty eyelashes.

"I have never hated you, kjære. I am… aloof. I have a resting bitch face. You are not the first person I have unnerved. But.. you are the first that I have wanted to be close to. If you would have me."

Courtesy. Formality. Tord was a stubborn man, and when he managed to get a taste of blood, he clamped his jaws down tight and didn't let go.

And this rabbit laid down in his teeth willingly.

You smiled.

"I'd like that. Yeah."

[ddejavvu]

oh friend,, i have so many headcanons,,,

> james potter who is the biggest football/soccer fan, after figuring out what the hell the muggle rules to this silly little ball game are

> sirius black absolutely had a mullet era. i will not be convinced otherwise.

> remus lupin, aka, youtube deep dive video addict. i don’t know why, but that man gives off such “i watch 3hr videos for fun” vibes

> james potter who loves to cook (especially to podcasts? idk, it just makes sense)

> sirius black who can speak five languages fluently, but only these skills when necessary (e.g. helping a confused stranger or flirting)

> remus lupin with a thick welsh accent.

> james potter who never had to wear braces, but had to have his teeth magically fixed at some point (because the boy didn’t always have perfect teeth!)

> sirius black who loves perusing different lipsticks with you, and sometimes wearing them

> remus lupin has a dimple!!!

ugh, i have more absolutely useless and random headcanons that no one needs, so please let me know if you need more 😮‍💨

send me your headcanons!

--

soccer boy james!! mhm, he likes the game but in all honesty he started looking into it just because he thought the ball was pretty <3

men with mullets are my weakness for some fucking reason so yeah i second that <3

remus watches video essays but consider: remus makes video essays. he has such a loyal fanbase and he reports on only the topics most dear to his heart <3 sirius always pops into frame when he's recording

effie taught james how to cook for sure!!!

the rest of the boys don't even know sirius can speak most of those languages until one day he's flirting with someone and he breaks out a different language like it's no problem and they're ????

yes remus who comes back from every summer absolutely unintelligible and sirius and james who can't understand ANYTHING

man james has bad eyesight, bad teeth, WHAT'S NEXT (bad life support !)

omg you two go cosmetics shopping together eeee and he helps you try them on, swatches them on you, kisses your cheek with it on <33

and i kiss remus lupin's dimple every day <3

[beachy--head]

Drabble, japril, season 8, based on a silly idea that keeps popping up every time I rewatch this scene.

___

Zola Shepherd is one adorable baby.

April’s living with her and her parents, so she has a front-row seat to all things Zola, but as she watches Meredith enters the room with the little girl in her arms for her first birthday party, she’s reminded of how cute the little girl can be.

“Hey, girl!”

“Look who didn’t just wake up, uh?”

Next to her, Jackson seems under the little girl’s spell too, and it’s a sweet thing to witness. It’s not a surprise, because even Alex softens when she’s around, but she still enjoys watching her best friend interact with their friend’s daughter. 

“Look at you! You look so beautiful, look at that bow!”

She would gladly spend her entire evening playing with Zola (parties, even for a child’s birthday, aren’t completely her scene). But Meredith, having spotted Dr. Webber, is quick to move, and April is left with a kind of longing she mostly gets after phone calls with her mother (Karen Kepner is, not surprisingly, a big proponent of having as many grandchildren as possible). Maybe that’s why she shakes her head and speaks before she can think.

“Uuugh, I want one.”

“Not tonight, honey, I’m tired.”

Jackson looks way too proud of his stupid joke, so she swats him.

“Hey!”

“You’re watching too many Friends re-runs.”

“It’s because Zola kept everyone up all night last week when she was teething. We don’t all sleep with earplugs, like someone.”

“You would, if your room was next to Alex’s, which is another reason I need to move. And I wouldn’t wear them if I was taking care of a child.”

“I would. I need my beauty sleep.”

She resists the urge to swat him again, because he’s being impossible today, but opts to pick up on what he just said, because they’ve never really discussed this topic before.

“Hey, you want children in the future?” 

“One day, maybe. Though I don’t know how I’d fare as a dad.”

Jackson complains all the time about his mother (April doesn’t know why, because she still mourns the day she had to unfriend her on Facebook, per her best friend’s forceful request), but he never talks about his father. Up until a drunken night a few months ago, where he mentioned briefly that his father left them and the Avery legacy, April was not even sure if the man was still alive, and there never seemed to be a good moment to ask. She doesn’t need to know his whole family history to give her opinion on that subject, though.

“What? You’d be brilliant. Zola adores you, and all the kids you treat in peds love you. Well, their moms do, too. But mostly the kids. You know how to talk to them without patronizing them.”

Jackson shrugs, a shrug that frustrates her, because God forbid Jackson Avery should accept a genuine compliment about himself. He acts like she’s just said these things to flatter him and not because she genuinely meant what she said.  

“You want kids too, right?”

Redirecting the conversation is another classic Avery move, but she lets it slide for now, because she doesn’t want to argue with him, not when they’re at a party and he seems so relaxed.

“Absolutely. Though, for that, you kind of need to find a partner first, and it’s not like I have a vast array of choice here.”

He opens his mouth to answer, but she cuts him off.

“Please tell me you’re not about to say something cliché like any guy would be lucky to have me. Or suggest that we should do one of these pacts when if we’re both single by the time we’re 33, we have a baby together.”

He chuckles.

“I wasn’t, but hey, it worked for Sloan and Torres. Also, not to brag, but with our genes combined? That kid would be so good-looking. And hella smart.”

April smiles at his assessment, and adds her own input. 

“And… So incredibly stubborn.”

She can’t help but chuckle, trying to imagine a baby Jackson refusing to do what is asked, and a weird, warm feeling spreads through her body.

“And bossy.”

“Hey!”

“What? It’s a good quality. When not aimed at me. Helped you become Chief resident.”

“Yeah, because Averys aren’t bossy at all. Have you met your mother?”

He tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, an acknowledgment that the Kepner genes wouldn’t be entirely to blame for this, and it makes her think of something else.

“Your mom would so buy them their first doctor coat on their first birthday.”

“First birthday? Try at birth. Their spot at Mass Gen would be reserved from the first sonogram. Surgery specialty chosen at 2. Also, you’re one to talk. Your parents would buy them a pony.”

“No they wouldn't! Well, first a cat. Then a dog.”

“And then…?”

“Okay, probably a pony.”

They both stay silent, contemplating a life with tiny tornadoes running everywhere, bolstered by extravagant gifts given by two very different, but equally frightening, sets of grandparents, and she can actually fell herself shudder.  

“... Yeah, we can never have kids together.”

“Right? I’m going to make an appointment for a vasectomy right away.”

He laughs when she rolls her eyes, and goes to refill his drink, still chuckling. 

She’s always thought of children as an abstract matter, something she definitely wants (two boys, one girl, with a boy first, then the girl, and a little brother to round them up), but has never actually truly pictured, because it felt so far away in her future, a “someday” thing she has never been close to reaching. But for a few seconds, she lets herself smile at the idea of a mischievous, curious toddler with curly hair and green eyes, full of life and quick-witted, a sight so real she could almost see it. A few more seconds, and she shakes her head, chasing the vision away, and follows Jackson on a quest to find something to drink. 

[cindol]

Pizza boy!Ino Takuma <33

tw— ino is taller than you sorry,fluff, nanami has his own pizza company/restaurant in this au, pet names(baby,babe,)

synopsis— a local pizza boy enjoys some pizza with his girlfriend.

y/n smiled hearing the soft knock on her front door, she was so familiar hearing that knock now as she stood up from her velvet red couch and unlocked the front door to see her boyfriend in his all black clothes, black beanie on top of his brunette hair with a smile adorning his mouth. Looking down at his hands she could see 3 pizza boxes from the beloved Kento Pizzeria place in his one hand. She didn’t even have heart eyes for him right now, poor ino thought she was drooling and happy at the sight of him but her attention completely shifted to the cardboard boxes of pizzas in his hand.

Just when he thought she came in for a warm imbraced she stole the pizza right out his hands licking her lips and giggling. It made a silly pout come on ino’s face as he followed her inside her home to her kitchen connected to the living room. He sucked his teeth.”tsk tsk.. thought my baby loved me but alas… she’s just usin’ me for pizza.” He gripped his chest for dramatic effect also making y/n giggle as she set the pizza boxes on the kitchen counter.”I’m sorry baby, you know how crazy I get over Kento Pizzeria’s pizza you know! Best damn pizza to ever exist in like the history of pizza.”

He chuckled at how his girlfriend rambled on about the pizza, he agreed though. Ever since he started working as a simple employee for Kento Pizzeria pizza honestly has been his favorite fast food.”can’t disagree with that baby.” He moved to open up one box of pizza and to y/n’s surprise, the one pizza pie was in the shape of a heart. It made a bright grin show on y/n’s lips as she wrapped her arms around ino’s neck.”a pizza shaped in a heart.. you’re a love bug sometimes y’know?” She jokes then softly chuckled.”thank you baby”

Ino smiled.”anything for the future wifey right?” He jokes but loves the happy expression on his girlfriends face. He knew she was a pizza addict so he also knew bringing a heart shaped pizza to her place would drive her crazy even if she had a calm attitude and face. The both of them stared at each other till ino said something.”sit on the couch though yeah baby? I’ll prepare the pizza for the both of us.” y/n nodded and went to the couch to sit and wait. With any other guy she would find it to be a ick for some man thinking he could just act like a “caretaker” but she loved being taken care of a man like ino honestly.

Ino perpared their pizza with some drinks and sat right next to y/n and handed her plate while he has his. Eventually after moving around y/n had ino cuddled on her chest while she ate and watched her sitcom. She loved when ino got like this, after going around delivering so many pizza’s it would have any normal man burned out and ino was a example of that. He got whiney also, when y/n even was about to get up to pee he whined making her giggle.”baby! It’s just a bathroom break.” But he shook his head wrapping around her tighter.”jus’ stay here with me till I sleep.” Luckily for y/n he’s a quick heavy sleeper.

When she came back from her bathroom break ino was sleeping peacefully like a baby with his beanie halfway off his head. It made her smile to see someone who travels all day and all around the town to quiet down and slow down. Moving to him she took his beanie off and ruffled his hair a bit and covered his body with a red blanket. Yes, she loves her Pizza boy!Ino Takuma .

[whole-circus]

hi! since your requests are open, could I ask for some room hdc?? with characters of your choice 🧎‍♀️

please take care of yourself and take your time!!

Creepypastas room headcanons!

➥ Jeff the Killer, Homicidal Liu, Eyeless Jack, Ben Drowned, Clockwork and Hobo Heart

Oh hi and thank you!! Here you go sweetie! If you wanted someone more then feel free to uptade!! :33

.•┈••✦ 🖤 ✦••┈•.

☆ Jeff the Killer

What a stinky men. Im sorry but his room is messy for sure and you can't convince me otherwise! Dirty clothes, empty cans, leftovers, stains..man, hire him a maid or something. Some dead plants and messy grafitties, stolen traffic signs and construction boards! Propably never in his life made bed, and his sheets aren't changed often.

Definitely has many band posters on his walls too! Maybe some vinyls too?? Mostly the black, red and grey colours can be seen. Hates the big light, so usually sits in dark or with small lamp. His drapes 24/7 covered. He is emo and plays loud music.

Smells like cigarettes and like room that hadn't been aired for long time.

☆ Homicidal Liu

Pretty, clean and organized room! The only 'messy' thing could be mugs he forgot to clean (same tho). Im sure he has gramophone and listen some of this old, silly, romantic songs! Also - a lot of plants, maybe even lego flowers? Couple of this aesthetic posters, some gobelins, small paintings. Photos with his friends, S/O! His bed is almost always well made. He have many books, and an easel (what an art hoe of him).

Mostly green, brown and beige colours. He loves natural light and candles, and if the weather is nice then his windows are open.

His room smells like cleaning detergents, soil and candles (usually the flower ones).

☆ Eyeless Jack

Soo..his room is not as clean, but its caused by his wild side. On his walls and furnitures are many straches from his hands (or even teeth!). Otherwise? You don't have to worry about surviving visiting his room, you have high chance to not caught anything! I would say his room is pretty dark, only becasue his walls are in gloomy colours - maybe not black, but gray, green or navy blue (all in dark shades).

Let's pretend that he actually was into medicine before all his tragic events..pls? Propably has some decorations, like skeleton, anatomy-related posters! Also likes to keep his blinds shut, he is pretty hypersensitive in terms to hearing, sight, smell. And maybe..he would have this small, funny fridge in his room, you know - to keep his..food..fresh!

About the smell..maybe a bit of blood? And something rotten? But its not that strong tho!

☆ Ben Drowned

Musty, dusty and rusty room, but we still love him! He would clean once in a while, and he do that very solid..but that doesn't last long - his room gets messy very easly. When he isnt gaming then he is sleeping..pretty productive, huh? Bed is never made, lots of junk food wrappers, empty (or not) cans..

LED lights 25/8! His room is pretty dark, propably never seen the sun. On his walls are posters from movies, anime and games. Has pretty professional gaming set when it comes to computer (I would describe it but i only know that computer need screen and keybord lol). High chance of having some psp gaming corner! Like bean bag pouffe, TV and stuff. Also! Collects figures like funko pops, anime figures, nendoroids. Ben have pretty nice Lego collection too!

His room smells like sweat and energy drinks.

☆ Clockwork

A bit messy, but in this aesthetic way - in other way, chaos under control! You know, some clothes at the floor or on chair..some dirty mugs..and her trash can is a bit too full..but as I said - everything looks pretty planed..! She has many blankets and plushies (she would never admit to that tho) on her bed.

In her room dominates mostly shades of dark green and white! Has many fun stuff in her room - rocks, animal skulls..sorry fellow animal lovers, promise they were found! But also a guitar! Full jewelry holder - and they are all well made! Thats why they are a bit too messy.. And she keeps many fake plants, she sucks at taking care of them. Clockwork has many string lights in various shapes!

Dunno, but I cant really assign smell of her room! Maybe something like dust and coffee?

☆ Hobo Heart

Ahh I miss this pretty boy to be honest! His room is clean, end of the sentence, thats it. I also think that he would have some pet in terrarium or aquarium - lizard, frog or just some fishes. Even if they are small, he treat them with proper respect and like the family members!

Has white walls with paintings and photos of his friends/SO, but most of the decorations are in shade of red. Also vinyls as decorations and posters of his favorite singers/bands (m sorry but he totally looks like somoene listening to Lana Del Ray vibes T^T) - all in this 'aesthetic way'! Simple light bed sheets, and when his bed is made (which is pretty often) he put pillows that have this silly shapes. Like to keep his room natural lightened and loves candles!

His room smells pretty like vanilia, but its not a strong scent.

.•┈••✦ 🖤 ✦••┈•.

[infiniteimaginings]

hello, good afternoon. Forgive my English, it's not my language so I use a translator. I would love a romantic story between Monty Montgomery with a male reader who also loves reptiles (especially snakes). It could be with a happy ending, with Monty and the male reader taking care of the Baudelaire brothers. thanks in advance 🤗

Caretakers (Monty Montgomery x Male!Reader)

Summary: You and your husband meet the Baudelaire children and take care of them! Pronouns: You/Yours, He/Him Warnings: None Word Count: 2.3k A/N: This is just sweet, I promise. Thank you for requesting. lots of love! <33

The Baudelaire children Violet, Klaus, and Sunny were all taken to their new caretaker's home by the banker Mr. Poe. They were quite wary of their new caretaker as their previous one, Count Ola, had only been chosen through manipulation in order to steal all of their fortune that their parents left for them. All they new about this new caretaker is that his name was Dr. Montgomery Mongomery and that he was their father’s cousin's wife's brother.

As the old styled, baby blue car pulled into gates, Violet looked out the window, Sunny in her lap securely. She saw the clouds of white in the great blue sky, different from where they last stayed. The sky had been gray, dark, as if the area had not seen light for years.

Violet's brother, Klaus, did the same as she did, looking out the window. Once his eyes gazed to peer out the old car window he was met with lucious green shrubs in the shapes of reptiles. The designed lawn simply continued so the boy shifted to look out the front windshield, VIolet noticing and doing the same.

The three Baudelaire children observed a large stone house they were getting close to, the driveway was quite long, and they passed by beautiful shrubs and a large center piece of green and flowers. The exterior of the home only made the children smile, though they did, they still didn’t get their hopes up. They didn’t know who Dr.Mongomery was, they didn’t know how he acted, or what he would do with them.

Mr. Poe parked in front of the few steps at the front of the car, exiting the vehicle. He gestured for the children to do the same, to which they did.

The four of them walked up the steps and Mr. Poe rang the doorbell, mouth covered with his handkerchief to cover up his cough. The doorbell was ever so loud, ringing in their heads in an echo, Klaus’s hands came to Sunnys head to muffle it for the baby who babbled about the doorbell being unpleasant and deafening.

They stood at the front door for a moment, no one coming to open the door quite yet. Before Mr. Poe got the chance to ring the blaring doorbell again, the brown, wooden front door opened.

When it opened completely they were met with the sight of a man. He was slightly short, he had slightly dark skin, black hair, brown eyes, and a mustache that looked like squiggles at the ends. He had a wide smile and light in his eyes when he took notice of the children, barely paying mind to Mr. Poe other than a friendly nod.

His energy was warm, bright, very different from Count Olaf. When the door opened the scene of cookies and tea filled their senses, and they weren’t even in the home yet. The Baudelaires couldn’t help the hopeful smiles that etched onto their expressions, sighing out a breath of relief to such a kind looking man.

From the way Mr. Poe wasn’t concerned at the sight of him, the children assumed this was Dr. Montgomery. He nodded at a thought he had, “Hello hello hello! You must be the Baudelaires!” He spoke with a seemingly British accent. He was welcoming, his teeth showing as he made silly faces to Sunny who giggled.

Mr. Poe nodded and responded with a ‘yes’, the man in the doorway nodded as the answer, standing straight, showing more of his striped button up. “This is perfect timing, because my husband has just finished frosting this delicious coconut cream cake.” He explained, turning and grabbing forks, telling everyone to take one as he walked into the house.

Everyone followed him, looking around. The entryway had burgundy carpet, a stained-glass light fixture on the ceiling. It was a large entry room and had a grand staircase that led to the second floor.

Violet sniffed the air, smelling the baked goods with a smile. She looked to Klaus who had the same look on his face, everything seemed nice so far. She moved her hair behind her shoulder, “Thank you, Dr. Montgomery.” She spoke, following behind him to wherever he was walking, Sunny on her side in her arms.

Dr. Montgomery turned, shaking his finger with a grin, “Please, call me Monty!” He suggested, opening his mouth to say something more.

“He doesn’t like fancy titles unless they get him a discount at the movies.” A voice said from behind Monty, interrupting him. When the man turned around his eyes softened, at the sight of you. His smile turned from excited to gentle and he walked over to you as you emerged from what seemed to be the kitchen. He wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing your temple softly. You held up a plate of cake since your husband's arms were around you. He continued to hold your waist as he turned to the children, “He’s right." He spoke quietly before turning his attention back to the children, "Do you like going to the movies?” He asked the three who nodded.

The conversation didn’t go much further into that topic other than the promise that they would go a lot. Monty introduced you to the Buadelaires who said their Hellos, you offered them pieces of coconut cream cake.

“You must be Violet, the inventor.” You spoke, handing her a piece of cake to which she took with a smile. Monty unraveled himself from your side, taking a different slice to give to Klaus, “And you are Klaus, the reader.” He hummed and Klaus nodded, taking the cake gently.

You looked at the baby in Violet's arms and offered a piece of cake, “And you must be Sunny, would you like some cake?” You asked but Klaus answered for the baby.

“My sister prefers very hard food.”

The answer was unusual and strange but it wasn’t strange enough for the couple standing in front of them.

Monty nodded, “That’s unusual for a baby, not so for many snakes. Perhaps Sunny would prefer a raw carrot?” He offered and the baby happily took it, munching on it as everyone continued to converse.

There was another piece of cake left that you offered to Mr. Poe who politely declined, saying he should get going. You smiled at him and walked to the kitchen, placing the rest of the cake into the kitchen. “There are plenty of treats, drinks, and snacks in the kitchen whenever you all want some.” You hummed to them and the Baudelaires thanked you quietly. They were polite, but they seemed nervous, you understood that quite well.

Mr. Poe was telling the Baudelaires how they could call him if they needed anything as you walked back in but Monty interrupted him with a genuine smile, “They won’t need anything from you, they are in our care now and we will dedicate ourselves to them.” He spoke, his tone was kind enough, but the implication that Poe had thought they would not be taken care of seemed to have irked him.

Klaus noticed this and quickly spoke up, “Our parents' fortune can't be used until Violet comes of age.”

The comment surprised the two of you, you furrowed your brows in confusion, looking at Monty. He frowned at you, putting a hand on your shoulder, “I understand you all have been through a lot with your previous caretaker.” He spoke softly, eyes showing truth to his words. You nodded, “But, we don’t care about your parents fortune.” You explained to them, the comment made the three a bit skeptical.

You walked to them, crouching down a bit to be leveled with them, “We do not need your fortune, we only care that you all are safe, and feel cared for.” You continued on, your smile was sad, as were your eyes but you were genuine.

The Baudelaires seemed visibly relaxed at your words and that was enough for you to back away from them.

Mr. Poe had noticed it was time for him to leave and Monty hastily rushed him out of the home until the door was closed. “Apologies if I seemed rude to the…banker.” He spoke, stopping himself from rolling his eyes. “He just strikes a small nerve with me, he was the reason you were placed with that-” He was going to continue to speak until he noticed the look on your face. A look he was familiar with, a look that said ‘be quiet’, and he did.

The older two followed his gaze to your hard look that softened when they looked at you. You clapped your hands, “How about we show you all to some rooms and you guys can decide which rooms you would like to stay in?” You offered, the idea made everyone in the room nod and follow you. Monty gently whispered to the group as you walked up the stairs, “Some of the rooms have his touch in them, he really wanted you all to like it here.” He told them, rushing up the stairs to catch up. Violet and Klaus walked up with them, a bit excited. Sunny bobbled along in Violet's arms, curious to see what was in store as well.

The day went on with you and Monty showing the children to their rooms, feeding them, showing them pictures, giving them a tour, and telling them stories. The two of you answered any questions the Baudelaires had for them. They asked anything along the lines of how did you guys know their parents, how you guys met, and what you do for work.

You two happily explained your line of work had to do with reptiles, but more excitedly for the two of you, snakes. The two of you were Herpetologists and met while doing fieldwork to study an extremely venomous snake.

“What kind of snake?” Klaus asked, looking through some of the study books through the reptile room his new caretakers were showing him and his siblings.

Your eyes lit up at the question, “The saw-scaled viper.” You answered quickly, standing in the middle of the room, keeping your eyes on Violet who was near the cages, and Sunny who was on the table near Monty.

Monty nodded, “It’s one of the deadliest snakes found in the middle east.” He explained, showing Sunny some images of snakes as he gave her another carrot.

Violet's fingers ran along the metal of the cage, a bit of her was fearful of grazing the scales of the snake. You noticed her fear and reassured her, “None of the snakes in cages with metal bars are venomous, especially not that one.” You told her, walking over to the area. “This one is an african egg eating snake.” You explained, opening the cage, but looking at her before you opened it any wider.

Violet gave you a nervous look but you assured her with a nod that it was okay. She eventually took a deep breath and let you take the snake out the cage. It wrapped around your hand and you held the head gently, showing her that the snake had no fangs. “She only eats eggs, she’s no bark and no bite, I promise.” You told her and she smiled as she observed the reptile.

After a while in the reptile room the Baudelaires all washed up and headed to bed. You and Monty said goodnight to each of the Buadelaires together, telling them that they could come eat and come get one of you whenever they needed something.

After putting them to sleep, you and Monty went downstairs to eat the last slice of cake.

After a bit of silence you suddenly started chuckling and Monty looked up at you with a raised brow, “What is it?” He asked you, chewing at the cake. You shook your head, “You looked terrified.” You told him, laughing a little louder before clasping your hand over your mouth as to not wake the children.

Monty looked at you bewildered, eyes wide as he swallowed his cake harshly. “You could tell?” He asked, his body deflating. He was now completely leaning on the counter and you laughed even more, rubbing his shoulder. “Of course I could, they couldn’t though, believe me.” You explained to him and he just looked up at you with nervousness in his eyes. You rubbed your hand in circles from his shoulder to his back, “They were nervous too, don’t worry.”

Monty sighed, puffing air out of his cheeks as he slowly slid to the ground, you sitting next to him when you noticed what he was doing. “I just want them to feel safe, I mean Olaf just…” He trailed off, putting his face in his hands. You put your head on his shoulder, holding his hand to remove it from his face. “They will be safe, I know we haven’t taken care of actual children before but…” You began, sighing with a smile, “I know we’ll make them feel safe and happy.” You told him quietly.

He turned his head to you, moving your noses together, “How are you always so right and amazing?” He asked you, his brown eyes looking deeply into yours. You smiled at him, rolling his eyes, “Well one of us has to be.” You teased, he laughed a bit at your words. He moved forward, pressing the two of your lips together gently in a gentle kiss that tasted of coconut cream pie and lemonade from earlier.

Through the silence and soft kisses, the two of you didn’t hear the sound of footsteps retreating back up the stairs. Klaus and Violet, who was holding Sunny, were smiling at each other in their pajamas. They wanted to look around a bit, curious to see if the two of you were genuine in your intentions but that was all they needed.

Violet put Sunny back to sleep in her room, closing the door quietly, face to face with Klaus. Klaus adjusted his glasses, “I think this will be good for us.” He spoke in a hushed whisper, Violet nodded. “They’re nice.” She spoke with a grin and Klaus was the one who nodded this time.

The two walked to their respective room doors, opening them slightly.

“Goodnight Violet.”

“Goodnight Klaus.”

For the first time since their parents died, they were excited to wake up the next morning. Almost too excited to go to sleep once they reached their beds, smiles hurting their cheeks. This would be good for them, to live with the uncles who were happy together. Maybe the Baudelaires could be just as happy with them.