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#bright morning son
miiroren · 2 years
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guys send me prodigal son art requests. i’m in the mood to draw some angst.
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foreverdolly · 1 month
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ೃ࿔ SAVAGE BONDS part I 『 feyd rautha x atreides!reader 』
summary: destined to one another since conception, your very life belongs to feyd rautha. as a token of good will you are sent to the strange planet of giedi prime a week before your wedding ceremony, only to learn that it is far more hostile than you imagined it would be. a failed assassination attempt has tempers flaring and sparks flying when it is decided to be safer to sleep alongside feyd. you hate to admit it, but he has played the part of a "protector" better than the guards who were tasked to watch over you. whilst you have been dreading this union all of your life, feyd has been anticipating it. meeting you as children had left him awe-struck. . . and a bit obsessed.
warnings: !SMUT HEAVY IN FUTURE PARTS!, feyd is super overprotective in this fic and kills multiple people in your honor, blood and gore, it's a dark romance folks, political marriage, forced proximity, temporary unrequited love, a lil dubious consent in some scenes, there's a lot of talk about breeding, enemies to lovers (in your mind, not his), there's a "who did this to you" scene, knife play, blood kink, breeding kink heavy, lots of scent marking/marking. (needs to be edited, so please excuse any temporary errors!)
word count: 5.3k
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The ancient walls of Castle Caladan were a fortress, the long winding halls a labyrinth to those unfamiliar with its layout. You had tried feigning sleep when you had been made aware of the surprise guest’s arrival, a one “reverend mother”- as your mother referred to her. The cool air from the hallway nipped at your exposed arm, which currently hung limply over the side of the bed. 
“She’s even smaller than your son, Jessica.” The voice sounded more like a wheeze- and it certainly didn’t belong to anyone you had ever met before. 
“As I’ve already said, the Atreides are slow to grow.” Your mother’s tone didn’t hold even a semblance of a bite to it, not like you expected. She was usually fiercely protective of you and your brother. 
Your finger twitched, causing the woman to stifle whatever disapproving comment she was about to make. Being caught eavesdropping like this certainly wasn’t ideal, but you found it impossible not to be curious. 
“She really is just like her brother,” More like he was more like you. You’d always been the rowdy one of the two. Paul must have been listening in as well, and you imagined that he was more insulted at the comments of his lack of height and muscle than you were. “The little rascals.” 
There was a beat of silence before the woman began to crone again. This time you opened your eyes just a sliver, staring into the dark abyss of your room so that you could make out the shapes of your mother and the stranger. 
“Rest now. Both you and your brother need to be prepared to meet my Gom Jabbar.” The reason couldn’t be pinpointed, but there was something about her tone that filled you with dread.
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Your mother woke you up the next morning, bright and early. 
Not even the breathing exercises that your mother had taught you had been able to calm you down last night. The darkness had swallowed you whole, which resulted in a dreamless sleep that left you feeling just as unrested as you had felt the night before. Your mother noticed your hesitations, the skirts of her dress dragging against the stone floor as she moved in the direction of your closet. The dress that she picked out for you was one of your more official garments, the red hawk of the Atreides crest proudly sewn onto the right breast. 
“Did you sleep well?” She questioned as she laid the dress neatly onto the edge of the bed, urging you to stand once her hands were free. 
You blinked at her, nervously brushing your hands along the soft cotton of your nightdress. Your voice felt stuck in your throat, but you still managed to lie. 
“Yes, of course.” Your tone was flat, and for once she didn’t question you on the reasoning. She knew exactly what had you feeling so uncomfortable in your own home. 
Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. Gom Jabbar. 
What exactly did the old woman want from your family? Lady Jessica was a Bene Gesserit, which could only mean that this woman was a higher up, sent to pay you and your brother a visit. You knew nothing about any “coming of age” rituals. 
Paul barged into the room, dressed in his finer clothes as well. He leaned against the wall of your room, lips pursed as if he was deep in thought. You tilted your head to the side, leveling him a worried glance. He simply shook his head, and you knew at once that he wasn’t trying to dismiss your worries. 
‘Not here. Later.’ His expression told you, and for once you obeyed. 
“The reverend mother is waiting on the both of you. Paul, get out of your sister’s room so she can get ready.” She commanded, her tone leaving no room for whining or disobedience. 
He groaned, pushing himself off of the wall so that he could head back out and into the hall. You shrugged out of your dress quickly at the hurried insistence of your mother, allowing her to do up the clasps of the dress for you. 
“Who is she?” You asked simply, brushing your hair to the side so that she could get a better grasp of the dress. 
“She was my teacher at the Bene Gesserit school and now she is the Emperor’s Truthsayer.” Your mother sighed out your name, turning you quickly so that you were facing her. “You need to do exactly as she says. There is no room to be prideful today, do you understand?” Her eyes were pleading, and you knew that she had your best interests in mind. 
You and your mother walked wordlessly out into the hall, catching up with your brother who was busy running his fingers along the uneven stone walls. You flashed a quick look at your mother before jogging to catch up with Paul, taking the hem of his sleeve into your hand. 
“What do you know?” You whispered, turning your head so that you could look at your mother. Much to your surprise she seemed to be in no hurry to separate the two of you. 
“I’ve had dreams about her before,” He whispered, and you had to pick up your pace to keep up with his strides. “And mother told me this morning that I have to tell her about my visions.” 
Your mouth went a bit dry at the realization that this woman truly was here just for you and your brother. What is the Gom Jabbar and what did it entail? There was no telling. 
“She’s in my morning room, you two.” She called out after you. 
Jessica caught up, leveling the both of you a disapproving motherly look that had the two of you slowing your strides to match hers. She seemed a bit hesitant, eyes flickering between you and your brother and the closed door. 
The “reverend mother” sat in one of the tapestried chairs, her arms perched on either side of the armrests as she watched the three of you come in. The view behind her was beautiful, the sprawling, green farmlands of the Atreides family holding on full display through the large windows behind her. You glanced at your brother, eyes widening when you realized that he was already looking at you. He bowed in her direction and you followed his lead. 
“They are a cautious bundle, aren’t they?” The witch-like woman croaked, looking between the two of you. 
“As they have been taught, your reverence.” 
In this room, here in front of this woman, Jessica was no longer the Duke’s concubine nor your mother. She was reduced to that of a pupil in the face of her teacher. You kept yourself from fidgeting, clasping your hands in front of you. You fought the urge to reach out and grab your brother’s hand, as the two of you so often did when faced with anxiety as children. Fear hadn’t regressed you to that of a blubbering child in years. 
Your mother also seemed to fear the woman before her. There was something in her tone that led you to believe that whatever she was here for, it surely wasn’t a pleasantry. Your brother was tense at your mother’s other side, jaw tense as he stared the reverend mother down. 
“Teaching is one thing, but there are some things that cannot simply be taught,” Paul’s eyebrows furrowed as she spoke, and as if she was dismissing a servant of the castle, she waved your mother off with a flick of her wrist. “You and your daughter leave us. It will be her turn soon.” 
For the first time that morning your mother hesitated, eyes softened as she looked upon her son.
“Your reverence, I-” She began, but was cut off before she could finish whatever it is she was going to say. Surely it was meant to be an objection. 
“Jessica, you know that this must be done.” Her voice held a tone of finality. There was no room for your mother to try and wiggle the both of you two out of this trap.
“Yes. . . of course.” Your mother straightened, turning towards both of you. 
“This test. . . It’s very important to me, you two.” She spoke in a hushed voice, eyes still fearful. 
“Test?” The two of you questioned at the same time, looking at one another in concern. You were confused, even more so than you were before. 
“Remember that you’re the duke’s son.” And with that your mother was grabbing your arm, pulling you in the direction of the door. 
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“I suppose that it is my turn?” Your voice shook with anger as you practically tore the door off of its hinges, anxious to take your brother’s place. His cries and whimpers did not go unheard, even with the thick wood separating the two of you. 
Looking at him now, his right arm still shaking from the pain, was like being slapped across the face. 
“Right you are, girl. Jessica, please escort your son out of the room.” There was a silvery glint in her bright eyes- a challenge. She could sense it in you. 
Your mother didn’t interrupt this time, and without any words exchanged the door closed. Your brother was too shaken up by whatever had taken place in that room to fully comprehend that the same thing was going to happen to you. He tossed a terrified glance over his shoulder at you just before the heavy doors closed. The sound of it echoed around the room, pulsing in your chest as you tried to steady the adrenaline pumping through your veins. 
“Your future. . . do you know what is expected of you?” 
You eyed the black box that sat next to her as you began closing the distance between the two of you. The question she had asked. . . it was a touchy subject with you. Of course you knew. A day didn’t go by that you weren’t mortified by the prospect of your future. You only had three short years to live and enjoy before you would be forced to abandon your family to join hands with another one. 
“Of course I do. It is my duty to marry.” Your voice had a bite to it, your eyes unwavering as you stared her veiled face down. 
“It is your duty to marry a Harkonnen. It is an honor to be the only reason that these two great Houses are allies. Your heirs will be powerful beyond comprehension.” The way she spoke. . . she truly believed the shit she was spouting. 
It was impossible to consider marrying Feyd an honor. It was an ever-present looming threat. 
“Put your right hand in the box.” She commanded, nodding her head in it’s direction. 
It seemed harmless enough, nothing more than a metal box. You bent your head ever-so-slightly, trying to have a look inside. It appeared to be a pitch black, endless void. No beginning or end in sight. 
You did as you were told, biting the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from muttering anything too disrespectful under your breath. If Paul’s screams were anything to go off of then this was going to be painful. Still, you were shocked by how cold the box was. You wiggled your fingers a few times, feeling the metal encasing them. Slowly a tingling sensation began, almost as if they were falling asleep. 
“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 
The tingling sensation somehow melded into. . . heat. No, not heat. Burning. It felt as though you had your hand held up to a bright flame. You flinched, but froze when you finally noticed that the reverend mother was holding something against your neck. Your eyes flickered the best that they could to her hand, not wanting to turn your head. 
“What I hold at your neck is the Gom Jabbar. The tip of the needle is dipped in poison. Remove your hand from the box and I will plunge it into your neck.” 
The palm of your free hand began to sweat, the gravity of the situation finally landing on your shoulders. You would be forced to endure the pain and there was nothing that anyone outside of the doors could do. No guards had come to protect your brother when it was his turn, and no matter how emotional your mother had gotten whilst hearing his screams she still hadn’t rushed in after him. You could truly die here in this room. 
“Why are you doing this?” You urged, wincing again as the burning continued to worsen. 
Now it felt as though you were almost touching a flame, fingers dancing dangerously close. It wasn’t just uncomfortable now but painful.  “To determine if you’re human. Now be silent.”
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Meant for greatness, yet stifled before her prime. 
It was impossible for your clipped wings to take flight. The Bene Gesserit had instilled in you your purpose from a very young age, letting it be known that you were little more than cattle to be sold off to breed. The whole arrangement was dehumanizing, but this was the way of galactic high society. Every House had been developed by the close, watchful eye of the Bene Gesserit. Your mere existence was a result of a centuries long breeding program, so how could you ever expect for your own life to be any different? 
Every child, especially in their naive youth, dreams of greatness. There was a point in time where you had hoped to mean something. There were differences to be made, rules to be broken, wars to be raged- but you would never be at the helm of any of it. But Paul. . . Paul was different. 
“You know something that I don’t.” You weren’t asking Paul, rather telling him what you already knew. 
Where you were used to your brother pulling no punches, he had been overly cautious with his treatment of you during training today. For a second he just stared ahead blankly at the wall, and you wondered whether he would try to lie. The older you’ve gotten, the stranger other people’s treatment of you has become. Women were little more than something to be owned. It was a hard lesson to learn and was one you were still grappling with. 
Your femininity were the chains that bound you. And what of your ambition? It was currently acting as the flames licking at your boot heels. Soon you feared that it would fully engulf you; become your undoing. 
“Tell me.” Your lovely features crumpled, and as childish as it was you found yourself giving his arm a slap. 
He jumped at the sudden contact, eyes widening as he turned to face you after what felt like an eternity of prolonged silence between the two of you. The hard flooring felt cool beneath your legs as you stretched them out beneath you, and for a second you found it hard to keep yourself up in a sitting position. The world felt unsteady beneath you, both literally and figuratively. 
Paul didn’t have to say anything at all. You looked, you saw, you felt, you understood. Your shared connection had nothing to do with your genes, rather it had to do with your likeness. Two bodies, two minds, but one soul. Your twin’s features crumpled, mirroring that of your own as he pushed a few strands of dark hair away from his face. 
“So there is nothing I can do? My fate is sealed.” Your lips felt numb as you spoke. 
Your brother’s visions were more frequent than they had ever been before. “Horrors”, he’d described them.
“If there was something I could do. . .” He started, turning quickly to face you, tucking one leg beneath himself. “My hands are tied. Mother and father’s hands are as well.” 
Hiding you away or knowingly allowing you to escape your duties would be seen as an act of treason. You’d be putting your parents and their status in danger, and no matter how desperate you were to get out of any sort of marriage pact, it was far too late. Since the very moment you were conceived, this was what you were meant for. 
“When will the orders come down, you think?” You pulled your legs up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them tightly. 
You wished that you could stay like this forever, protected from the rest of the world. If only you hadn’t been born as twins at all. You wanted so badly to be like Paul. 
But the galaxy didn’t work like that. You were not fortunate enough to get what you wanted. 
“Soon.” 
You felt comforted by the hand that he placed on your shoulder, and even more so when he kept it there until you felt as though you were able to stand up. 
You were to marry into House Harkonnen. That was your purpose; to unite the feuding houses and birth powerful offspring. You had met Feyd once before, but only for a fleeting moment. It hadn’t been awkward- no, back then the two of you hadn’t cared enough to pay any mind to the looming threat that was your betrothal. You’d been too young back then to fully grasp the severity of the situation. 
You remembered being shocked by his size. He towered over Paul, appearing to be years older than he really was. His hair had been dark back then, thick and slightly curly. 
He had only just been taken under his uncle’s wing at the time. The environment of Giedi Prime had yet to fully sink into the young boy. The Harkonnen’s looks had always been startling to you, no matter how many times you’d been exposed to it. They were dark creatures, brooding, hairless with skin as pale as milk- not to mention violent. 
The desperate way that Paul had clung to you was not lost on you. You let him squeeze you as tightly as he needed, your arms locking around his back. This meeting would change everything. In a matter of moments your life as you knew it would be taking a drastic turn, and not for the better. 
You’d made that very same trek to the parlor room a million times. This was your ancestral home- had been in your family longer than you thought was conceivable, and yet this felt new to you. Wrong. The shadows from the windows were casting strange lights on the wall beside you, and your footsteps sounded muffled in your ears as your pounding heart nearly deafened you. Your father’s hand brushed against your palm a few times, his attempt at showing you physical comfort without causing any sort of scene. You knew that this was Feyd-Rautha’s right. 
You were Feyd-Rautha’s right. That simple fact alone was enough to send you reeling, that morning's breakfast churning in your stomach. 
“It will be fine.” Your mother’s fingers shaped the words at her side, a comforting and silent presence. 
Your parents had always protected you. They had taught you well in all aspects of life. She was right. You had to trust yourself just as much as you trusted them. This will be fine. You will survive. 
But god, you wanted to live. 
Your worst fear was being locked up like a caged animal, only taken out to be played with or paraded around. You didn’t want to be somebody's little wife; you were no homemaker or bed warmer. 
‘I am better than this.’ You thought to yourself, your hands balling into fists at your sides. 
As the double doors began creeping open, you felt the sudden urge to run the opposite direction, your parents be damned. The feud between House Atreides and House Harkonnen would surely become deadly if you were to turn your back on the promise now, and that was the only thing that steeled your feet. You stood, back straight and hands clasped tightly at your front. 
You looked to be a pillar of strength, but oh- you were so close to crumbling. Your father took a step past the threshold, eyes hard as he bowed his head respectfully in the Baron’s direction. There was still time to turn around. The door was right there, and you were sure that you could commandeer a ship. You’d piloted a few times before in your life, and while you weren’t the best, you were certain you could get yourself the hell off of Caladan. You shuffled your feet, eyes wide as you looked up and caught your mother’s gaze. Her lips were parted, and you could tell that she was trying to decipher your expression. 
“What are you doing?” Her hand moved quickly at her side, the flowy gauze-like material of her skirts hiding her frantic movements from the visitor’s view. 
Nothing. You were doing nothing. There were no options yet. If you fled then the insubordination would fall back on your parents. If you downright refused then the outcome would be the same. There was nothing you could do but keep your mouth shut and try not to show the Harkonnen even a semblance of vulnerability. 
Disdain rolled off of you in waves as you breezed into the parlor, eyes locked on the side of your father’s face as he conversed with the baron. Tensions were high, even now. No pleasantries were being exchanged, that you were sure of. The Harkonnen’s stark black attire was a startling contrast to their pale skin. There, in the middle of two other men, whom you were sure were present for reasons of protection, was Feyd. 
He looked the same as the rest of them. Hairless, blue eyes dripping with something that could only be described as malice. Gone was the curly haired child that you remembered. In his place stood someone unrecognizable to you. You wanted to question what the Baron had done to Feyd, but you already knew. Perfection was expected on Geidi Prime. 
He had shaped Feyd into the very likeness of perfection. The once dark haired boy was now a walking, talking machine; not even a dead leaf echo of the boy you met all those years ago. 
You tried to map out every single one of his microexpressions, searching desperately for any sign that he might disapprove of the predicament the both of you had found yourselves in. He tilted his head to the side, observing you with a horrifying level of concentration. The Baron began to speak, saying something that you didn’t care enough to listen to. You were too distracted by the terrifying man before you. 
“She will come back home to Geidi Prime with us. No objections, correct?” 
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You were marrying him out of an obligation, this he was already privy to. He had seen the reluctance written plain across your face as you’d entered the room. You’d wanted to run. Away from him, away from your responsibilities- and he could not blame you for it. His understanding stopped there though, simply because this proposal wasn’t going against his own wishes. 
“The wedding isn’t taking place for another week.” The Duke didn’t seem to like the idea of his unwed daughter leaving his side. 
Feyd fought back a smile, having known that the Baron’s sudden request would have this effect on the Atreides family. He watched you squirm like a bug under a magnifying glass, your hand moving at your hip. For a second he thought that you might be tugging at the seam of your dress, writing it off as nothing but a nervous tick- but then he saw the way your mother’s eyes followed those movements. 
The two of you were communicating. 
“That may be so, however I think that it is only right that your daughter,” Baron Vladimir motioned in your direction. “Becomes better acquainted with Feyd. You don’t agree?” 
His uncle decided that it was best to test the boundaries of this alliance. He was pushing the Duke, seeing how far he could get. Leto’s lips twitched, his eyes flickering thoughtfully towards you. Feyd was finding it hard to pay attention to anyone else other than you in the room. He’d spent years imagining what you would look like as an adult- dreamt about it. He’d eagerly been awaiting this moment, counting the days that he could finally be reunited with you. 
It wasn’t just because he had been promised powerful heirs. It was the thought that someone was fated to marry him. Since before he was even conceived, you had always been promised to him. That idea had been put into his head since childhood. You were the constant topic in his mind, a person that was unavoidably meant to be in his life for the rest of his days. 
In a strange way he had loved you since he was but a child. 
Seeing you for that first time had been better than he had anticipated. You were a beautiful little girl, but now? The child that he had met all those years ago did not hold a candle to the grace and brilliance of the woman that stood before him. Nobody else could ever compare. You didn’t have to fall for him right now, he was content with that. Hell, you didn’t even have to tolerate him.  He would find pleasure in wearing you down. He was going to make you love him.
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I must not fear. Fear is the mind killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. 
The adrenaline had run its way out of your system, leaving you cold and alone on a planet that was so incredibly alien to you, you weren’t sure how you’d ever be expected to adjust. Even the oxygen felt different in your lungs- the sweet, acrid smell of chemicals tinging the air around you. It was nothing like your home on Caladan. Your home was a stone castle, but this? This was a cold, black fortress. 
You weren’t sure if it was meant to keep people out. . . or in. 
You thought back to that fateful day with the reverend mother. 
“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? There’s an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain, feigning death that he might kill the trapper and remove a threat to his kind.” 
You couldn’t chew your leg off to be free of this. No, you had to lay in wait. Only then could you strike if the situation called for it. 
“Striking” could wait until tomorrow though. For now you wanted to rid yourself of the anxiety. Sleep was the only cure you could think of. 
“Is the room to your liking?” That husky voice of his was already grating on your nerves. 
Feyd had only attempted to speak to you a few times and already you were sick and tired of his presence. He was a constant reminder that you would never know what it was like to be free. Then again, was anybody in the galaxy truly free? Feyd sure seemed to be carefree in his current position. 
His tone felt off, like he was toying with you. 
“I would be far more pleased about my new living quarters if you were to leave.” You said simply, pulling the slate gray blanket up and over your chin. 
You weren’t sure if it was due to his ill-breeding, but he didn’t seem to care that you were in nothing but your night dress. He walked into the room in long-legged strikes, letting the door shut behind him. Never before had the two of you been alone together, not since you were children at least. If you were back in your family home you would feel safer during a moment like this. 
You were in his territory now, meaning he had full reign over everything. Your father and family name couldn’t protect you on Geidi Prime. 
“You’re in quite the rush to be rid of me,” He didn’t falter for even a second as he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, leaning back against the plush mattress with a small sigh. “If I didn’t know any better, I would think that you didn’t like me.” He didn’t seem upset at the notion of you disliking him. In fact, there was a glint in his eyes. That same sort of silvery glint you’d seen in the reverend mother’s eyes all those years ago: a challenge. 
This was nothing but a challenge to him. You were a conquest, and you detested that. Your stomach soured, your face becoming pinched as you glared at him. This was all too much too fast. You were in the comfort of your own home not even four hours ago, and now you were expected to make small talk with the source of your life-long discontent.  
“And what of your concubines? Could you not pester them tonight and give me a moment's peace?” 
“I dismissed them from their duties, permanently, weeks ago.” He said simply, his fingers running along the cotton of the comforter. 
“What?” You’d never heard of such a thing. 
“Spending time with them would be a waste.” His blue eyes flickered up to meet your eyes. “Acquiring concubines had just been a show of status.” 
It took you a few moments to process what he was saying, the burning hatred you had felt just moments ago flickering out into a dull flame. 
“Why would spending time with them be a waste? Am I expected to spend that much time with you?” A horror, truly. You had hoped that you’d be able to get away with spending a night or two a week with him, if only to achieve the Bene Gesserit’s goal of siring an heir. 
“A waste of time. A waste of seed,” He looked at you pointedly, his lip pulling up into a smile that revealed more of his black teeth. “And both of those things are important to me.” 
Your stomach hollowed out as you were once again reminded of what was expected of you. You had a week to prepare mentally for your wedding night, which you weren’t sure was enough. 
“And what happened to the concubines? Are they still being housed here?” 
“Why? Are you jealous?” He was smiling even wider than he was before. 
A shiver ran through you as you noticed how predatory his body language was- you felt like prey under his haughty gaze. It was hard to believe that Feyd had been administered the Gom Jabbar test and passed. 
This man was no human. He was an animal, that you were certain. 
“Wickedly.” Your tone was flat and noncommittal. Even now, you never saw Feyd as a potential lover. 
The man that was your so-called “destiny” was also your jailer. 
“Well then you’ll be happy to know that they no longer live here. . . or anywhere, for that matter.” He sat up, rolling his shoulders back to stretch his broad muscles.
The blood drained from your face as you stared up at him from your spot on the bed. He must have felt the weight of your gaze and turned his head, his eyes alight with. . . pleasure. Violence was as ingrained in him as breathing was. It was his life. Standing before you was the prince of death- pale, striking and terrifying. 
Animal, indeed. 
I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain. 
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A/N: this chapter was plot heavy, I know, however it was crucial to give you guys some background information so that I can better build tension. the beautiful dividers were created by @ kitsunecafe!
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i-cant-sing · 6 months
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Okay but I need yall to help me figure out the character(s) for the following scenario:
Imagine a romantic yandere falling for reader, and ofc reader isn't in love with yandere for obvious reasons like red flags. Maybe they did try dating, Yandere is a charmer, comes from a rich family, he's smart and hardworking and oh so head over heels in love with you. He's always taking you out on best dates, HAS to get you the largest fucking bouquets (excellent taste in flowers) and buys you expensive but well thought out gifts.
But for whatever reason, things dont work out and you break things off hastily and most likely over the phone before leaving the country. And yandere just- breaksdown. I mean my man does not have a good mental health as is, but you leaving, actually leaving him just breaks him down and he has a full blown panic attack.
I'm talking about yandere falling to his knees, clutching his chest and gasping for air, tears streaming down his face as he screams your name like a mad man. His family, they love him, they adore their son/brother/grandchild sm, it pains them to see him in such a miserable state. Yandere man is so delirious that he has to be sedated, tranquillised by medical professionals because he's just losing his fucking mind, babbling your name over and over again like a mad man. His condition only worsens as time passes, and so his family decides to take drastic measures because they can't see their beloved son/brother/grandkid so fucking dead and depressed and a shell of a once bright man. They love him so much, they only want ti see him happy, so they use their money and influence to track you down and try to convince you to return and take yandere back. When you refuse, they take the high way and force you to come with them, dragging you kicking and screaming to their private jet and fly all the way home, where yandere is.
You're in a dishevelled state, tears running down your cheeks as you struggle to free yourself from their grasps as they take you to yandere. And when yandere sees you... for the first time in months, his family sees the light return in his eyes as the yandere reaches out for you, scared that you're just his mind playing tricks. When he finally touches you, he is immeadiately pulling you into a hug, arms tightening around your body like a gilded cage as he cries into your shoulder and thanks his family for bringing you back. His family only smiles with tears in their eyes as they lock the door behind them when they leave, so that you don't go running away. Meanwhile, yandere has pulled you into his lap and he's looking at you with such sad eyes, staring at each feature of yours over and over again as if to memorise it all again. He can't help the tears that continue to slip out of his eyes, maybe he's crying that you're finally here, or maybe he's crying for all the time that's been lost when you weren't here. You fall asleep soon due to exhaustion, but yandere doesn't sleep a wink that night because he continues to stare at you and play with your hair very gently, finally closing his eyes when morning comes and he wraps his arms around you and traps your legs with his.
By now, you guys realise that the yandere's family is not only yandere for their son/brother/grandson but also for you. They are yandede for you too, but they're not allowing you to leave them or their son or even make him unhappy ever again. Some members are willing to let all you "tantrums" slide, while others are not so kind. BUT one thing is for sure, you're ALWAYS safe with yandere s/o, no matter what.
Now, for the characters I've had in kind for this scenario are:
Halim Mehmet Shah and the Shah Family (my ocs)
Dabi/Shotou and Todoroki clan (I am the OG creator of Yandere Todoroki Clan)
I wanna say Naoya or Toji but the Zenin clan hates them both....
Dick Grayson/Jason Todd and Batfam
What do you guys think?
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Mood board for this scenario^^^(I love Pinterest)
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thevillainswhore · 1 month
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The Ties That Bind Us
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Pairing: Ex-Husband!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Word Count: 5.7k
Summary: Even though Bucky is your ex-husband, you still have to see him often because of your shared son. But the heated tension, the spark that is still very much alive after your divorce, finally reaches its peak when you come home from your date.
Warnings: Mentions of divorce, small amount of angst, mutual pining, jealousy, kissing, smut, oral (fem receiving), daddy kink, p in v sex, derogatory names, spitting, happy ending.
Author’s Note: Unbeta’d, warning graphics and dividers by @rookthorne
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“You look so pretty, Mama!” You caught your son’s reflection in the mirror, his bright blue eyes wide and in awe as you finished the final touches up of your makeup. 
You were about to respond, but the words died on your tongue at the sight of Bucky’s large form rounding the corner into the bathroom. He leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms over one another. “She absolutely does, cupcake.”
The intensity of his stare made you gulp silently, and you diverted your eyes back to your son.   
Bucky had been doing that a lot recently —looking at you differently, more longing in his eyes than usual. 
“Thank you, baby,” you said, ignoring Bucky in favour of showing your appreciation to your son. The knot in your stomach was wound too tight to try and unravel the conflict that ravaged in your mind. “You’re going to be good for your Dad tonight, aren’t you?” 
Your son did his best to try and hide the cheeky smirk on his lips — one that resembled his father a little too much. “Of course Mama, I be a good boy.” 
Unable to help the smile growing on your face, you brought him into your embrace, snuggling him tightly until he let out a loud squeal when you tickled his stomach. “I mean it, trouble. No staying up late and no ice cream before bed.” 
Instantly, his puppy eyes fell to his father, an innocent pout on his lips. “But Dadda—“ 
“Sorry kid,” Bucky held strong. Glancing to you before looking back to his son, “Mama’s rules.” 
“Oh, shucks,” your son sighed as you laughed. 
From the outside looking in, the three of you seemed like a perfect family. Picturesque and ideal — white picket fences enclosing a home that was full of love and laughter, wholesome family dinners and celebrations for each loved one. 
But things were never as simple as you wished. 
The sobering thought made your laughter die in your throat, and you checked the time on your lit up phone screen. It was almost time for your date and you were wary of being late. “Okay, cupcake. I’ve gotta get moving so I can make it on time.” 
“Aw,” your son whined, and you ruffled his hair as you made your way out of the bathroom. The air was knocked out of your lungs as you squeezed by Bucky, the scent of his aftershave he had worn since you first met him filled your nose and overtook your senses. 
You barely suppressed a moan, a sinful combination that your mind begged you to inhale one more time, while another internal voice scolded you. The lingering touch of his fingers ghosting over your waist made it even harder to listen to sense. 
Once you reached the hallway, you shook yourself and grabbed your bag from its hook by the door.  The coat over your arm was warm and comfortable as you slipped it over your shoulders. 
The telltale patter of feet over the hardwood floor bounced towards you, along with another set of heavier ones not too far behind. “Where you going this time, mama?” cupcake asked. 
Smiling, you leaned down and tucked a stray lock of deep brown hair behind his ear. “Just for dinner, baby. I won’t be out long and I promise I’ll be back to make you pancakes in the morning, okay, sweetie?” 
He nodded before stepping closer and tiptoeing up to whisper in your ear. “Make sure he treat you good because you deserve whole world.” 
Tears sprung to your eyes, clinging on to your waterline. You blinked them away quickly before your son could notice. 
Though, Bucky did. 
You kissed his forehead, and leaned back to look into his eyes. “You got it, cupcake.” 
Stepping forward, Bucky spoke up. “Why don’t you say goodbye to Mama and go get a movie set up, huh pal? I’ll be with you soon.” 
Before your son left, he hugged you. “Bye Mama, I loves you.” 
You smiled as he ran off. “I love you too, baby — and remember to be good!”
Only Bucky and you were left by the door, your blanket of comfortability was gone and you felt his eyes that held too many memories burning through you. 
“You really do look beautiful,” he vowed. 
Fuck, you internally cursed.
You tried not to look into his eyes while you fumbled with your dress. “Thank you, Bucky.” You quickly shifted the conversation. “If he doesn’t settle then text me, okay? My phone will be on loud and I’ll answer straight away—“ 
“As much as I— We would like you home, I’m sure we’ll survive without you for a couple of hours,” Bucky said, recovering from his hiccup smoothly. 
Your gazes met — you had always gotten lost in his eyes and even all these years later nothing had changed. 
Snapping out of your reverie, you shook your head and unlocked the door. “I’ll um— I’ll be back later.” 
Before you could leave, Bucky caught your hand. “Have fun, Doll.” 
And with all the strength you had, you delicately took your hand out of his, taking note of the tan line of where his wedding ring used to sit. “Bye, James.” 
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The date went as expected. 
Your company for the night wasn’t a problem at all. In fact, this was the third date you had both been on together. However, the spark you had so badly tried to ignite through bland conversations and one already ringed out similar interest fell short. 
Every date you had been on since your divorce with Bucky seemed to lack a certain something for you. Although in recent light, you had come to terms with the fact you that no one’s eyes had the same shade of blue you were familiar with. Or made your heart jump in your chest from excited nerves years after your first meeting. 
Simply, you hated the fact you compared every single man to Bucky. 
With a sigh, you unlocked your door, careful to make as little noise as possible as you walked into your home. It was quiet, almost silent, apart from those damned footsteps that eased the weight off your chest and yet caused goosebumps to cascade down the bare skin of your arms.  
Bucky rounded the corner from your kitchen to the open plan living room, a glass of whiskey in his hand in the orange hue of the darkness, provided by a single lit lamp. 
“Hey,” he greeted you, the expression on his face imperceptible. “How was your date?” 
You cleared your throat, struggling to keep your composure from the sight of his tight black T-shirt and denim jeans that deliciously hugged his thighs. “Um yeah— it was— it was okay.” 
Bucky raised an eyebrow in skepticism. “Just okay?” He laughed. “Come on, give me more than that.”
You sighed in defeat. “I told him it was best if we didn’t see each other anymore.” 
Unfortunately, there was only so much of a facade you could fake until it became noticeable to your date. It was an amicable decision with no hard feelings. But, it didn’t help to settle the confusing thoughts in your head. 
Bucky took a swig of his drink, placing it on the hallway side table before he began slowly pacing towards you. 
You couldn’t discern the look in his eyes, the way they feasted on your thighs or your waist. Backing up against the door until you physically couldn’t break free from the heat of his gaze, you could only watch as Bucky drew closer, right until you were a breath apart. 
He brought an arm up, over the top of your head to lean against the door. “Any reason why?” he asked, a husk to his tone that granted you no favours. 
A sudden pulse shot through your nerves, the ache between your thighs intense. It took everything in you to not rub them together. He would notice that you were sure of. 
Desperate to escape what was sure to be a dangerous situation, you quickly slid out of his invisible hold and hastily made your way to the kitchen to pour your own drink. Bucky joined you only seconds later. 
“How was cupcake?” you asked instead, attempting to switch the conversation to a safe topic. “I hope he didn’t cause you too much trouble.” 
“He was good as gold,” he instantly replied, staring you down. A beat later, “He whined about the ice cream situation, but I promised I’d take him out for it tomorrow and he was out like a light  — we had fun.” 
You slightly faltered as you poured the whiskey into a second glass. You didn’t miss his small innuendo of spending more time together.  
“Thanks for looking after him tonight. I know it was pretty useless anyway, but—“ 
Bucky trapped you against the counter as he placed his hand over yours, his deep baritone rumbling in your ears. “Don’t thank me for looking after my own son, you know I’d do it all the time if I could.” He took a deep breath. “If you would let me.” 
No. You couldn’t do this. 
You immediately dropped the bottle of whiskey onto the kitchen countertop, ripping yourself away from his touch to walk away. 
Bucky reached out as he followed you. “Babydoll—“ 
“Don’t fucking call me that,” you scolded, fury in your voice. 
Bucky however, wasn’t deterred. “Doll.”
“No—“
“Will you just—“ he caught you with a firm grip and spun you around to face him. “Will you stop running away from me.” 
The two of you were out of breath from sudden adrenaline, harshly breathing into each other's mouths. The look in Bucky’s eyes was wild, untamed — tortured.
“Tell me you’ve never thought about it — us getting back together.” He gripped onto your arms, his eyes flicking between yours. “Tell me I’m delusional and I’ll walk out that door right now and we’ll never speak of this again.” 
The ache in his voice broke your heart as much as the day you signed the divorce papers. 
“Bucky—“ 
“Please.” He cupped your face with his hands, glancing between your eyes and your lips while his thumb slowly rubbed over them. “I’m a desperate man, baby. I’m desperate for you.” 
You gulped, emotion bubbling over into your voice. “We broke up, Bucky. We’re divorced.” 
He laughed wetly, but there was no humour in his tone. “And that means we can’t try again?” 
The reasons for your separation seemed to blur under his stare. All the ways you weren’t good for each other leaving your mind and only making room for the good. 
“Where the hell is this coming from, Bucky?” You deflected once again. 
Your hands shook as he leaned his forehead against yours. “I can’t stand the thought of seeing you go out with another man again,” he whispered, painfully. “It’s killing me, Babydoll. It should be me.” 
Tears rushed over your cheeks, you were too overwhelmed to hold them back any longer. You sniffled as you glanced down the hall where you son currently lied fast asleep and obvlious. “I can’t hurt our son, Bucky — I can’t.” 
He smiled sadly at you, the crinkle in his eyes ever present but they only made you swoon for him even more. “There’s a reason all those dates don’t ever work out.” 
You couldn’t hear it, couldn’t take what he was trying to say. “Stop it.” 
“I know you’ve been holding back as much as I have.” 
He was pushing you, like he always did and as much as you wanted to curse him, it was working. “Please don’t make me—“
The point of no return came in the form of your most hidden secret spilling from Bucky’s lips. “You still love me, Babydoll.”
Ice ran through your veins, hearing those words out loud that you hadn’t dared let yourself believe. Your mouth gaped open, unable to find the words to deny his accusations until your tether broke. 
“Fine! I’m ruined for anyone else!” you shouted, frustrated and scared — a wild animal trapped in a corner. “You’ve ruined me — is that what you want to hear?”
His plump lips, soft and pink curled up. “It’s exactly what I want to hear.” 
Leaping forward, Bucky crashed his lips against yours. 
He was feverish as you both collided into each other. His hands, unrelenting yet gentle mapped out each and every slope of your body as you stood in the living room, feeling each other for the first time in years. 
“Fuck,” he groaned between kisses. “Fuck, I’ve missed you, baby.” 
Your head spun, dizzy with want. You hadn’t been touched in so long by anyone, never mind your ex-husband and your heart pounded erratically with nerves, excitement and longing. 
Slipping his tongue into your mouth, Bucky kissed you like he was starved, as though you were his only salvation. He ran his fingers through your hair, tugging it harshly to pull you closer to him even though there was no longer any distance between the two of you. 
“You’ve got no idea how bad I need you,” he whined into your mouth. “Need to fuckin’— I just need you.” 
Without you realising, Bucky had pushed you up against the nearest wall and even through denim jeans you could feel the hard shape of his cock while he unabashedly grinded against you. 
You broke for air, gasping as oxygen rushed to your lungs. “You have me, Bucky.” He trailed sloppy kisses down your neck as you panted, desperate to stain your skin with any trace of him. “You can have anything you want.” 
He growled, a sound that caused a gush of wetness to soak your panties. “That’s a dangerous thing to say to me, sweetheart.” 
Ripping away from you, he grabbed your hand and dragged you towards the laundry room on the other side of your house. You struggled to keep up with his fast strides in your heels, but you just about managed as he shoved you through the door and locked it behind him. 
His back was turned to you for a while and you stood nervously fidgeting, waiting for him to face you. His back rose and fell with breathless heaves, as though he was holding back — a feral beast ready to pounce. 
“Babydoll,” he said suddenly, rough and graveled. “I need to know you want this before I fuck the shit out of you.” 
Holy fuck, the mouth on this man. Your mouth grew dry while you struggled to think clearly in his aura. “I— I do—“ you stuttered, lamely.
He slowly turned around, a wolfish gleam in his eyes with adrenaline surging through his veins. He was tense as he took a deep breath. “Say it like you mean it.” 
When you stayed quiet, too hazy to speak, Bucky stalked towards you, lifting your chin up to look him directly in his eyes. “Say. It.”
Closing your eyes, you cleared your mind and swallowed before whispering, “I want you to fuck me until I can’t remember my name, Bucky.” 
He smirked, the kind you knew all too well — deadly. “Atta’ girl.” 
You sqeauled as he suddenly hiked you up into his arms, hands under your thighs so he could place you on top of the washing machine. Laundry detergents and other products you didn’t care to take note of fell from the shelves around you as he pounced on you once again, devouring you whole with his sinful lips. 
“Do you know how much I’ve had to restrain myself, Doll — Mm?” he pressed, covering every inch of bare skin you had to offer with his kisses. “How fuckin’ hard it’s been to not drag you back in the house and take you right then while you get dressed up for someone else?” 
You did. Because you understood more than anyone the pain of having to force yourself away from Bucky when all you had ever wanted was him. 
He unbuckled his belt, the telltale sound of the leather snapping against his hands and the jingle of metal sent bolts of electricity straight to your cunt.  
Your mind couldn’t keep up, your vision blurry with the sudden turn of events. All you knew was that you needed Bucky. 
“Hurry, baby. Please,” you whined. 
Bucky groaned with delight, his eyes rolling to the back of his head while he bit his swollen bottom lip. “Oh, how I’ve missed you begging for me, pretty mama.” 
Rushing to take off his belt, he slid the material through the loops of his jeans and threw it on the floor, not long after hurrying to unzip his fly and shuffle his pants down along with his underwear.
The tip of his cock peaked out of his black briefs and instantly you let out a high pitched moan, even shocking Bucky enough to look back up at you drooling over him. 
“Oh, sweetheart,” he cooed, slightly condescending. “Don’t you worry, Daddy’s gonna take care of you.” 
Bucky revealed the entirety of his cock, the length just as long as you remembered and the girth as thick as you had imagined in your nights alone with your toys that couldn’t compare. 
The slight curve that you could feel the ghost of pleasure from to this day caused you to bite your lip and squirm in your place. 
Without waiting for Bucky, you began shifting the bottom of your dress up your thighs, too impatient to wait for him to undress you. It gave you immense satisfaction when he followed the material, slowly revealing more of your skin. His mouth gaped open while he fell to his knees, the thud that sounded surely must have hurt, but there was no other expression on his face than greed. 
You stopped your dress just before Bucky could peak at your red panties and you almost laughed when his head shot up, aghast that you had interrupted the show. 
The power you held, you smirked. “You want more, Daddy?” 
Bucky dropped his head onto your thighs, his breath travelling up to your covered mound — your eyes fluttered, though you kept your breathing steady to not seem so desperate. 
Stroking your fingers through his fluffy hair, you murmured low, “Does it hurt to know my pussy is right here and you can’t have it?” 
You felt his muscles quickly lock up, his head snapping up to you with a speed that was frightening and exhilarating all at once. The blue of his irises darkened, dilating as he chuckled, “You’re very much mistaken, sweetheart. Because this pussy right here,” he shoved your dress up, spread your legs and breathed into you. “She’s mine, baby girl. And you’ve kept her from me long enough.” 
A chilled blast of air hit you as Bucky tore your panties from your waist and held them up. “You wore these slutty panties for that fucker, huh?” 
You gasped in shock when he brought them to his nose and inhaled the gusset deeply. He grunted as he closed his eyes in bliss. “Cos’ I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s got you this soaked.” 
Your keens amused him greatly. “Bucky—“ 
“That’s right, mama,” he laughed with pride. “My name sounds so damn heavenly coming from your lips.” 
Bucky pocketed your underwear, not caring to be discreet and his thumbs came up to your cunt to spread you open to his eager eyes. “My god, baby,” he gasped in awe. Your hole clenched at the vulgar display. “You’re just as tight as the last time I had you.” 
He tested a finger over your folds, running it through the embarrassing amount of slick that coated you. 
“No one,” you breathed, shaking your head while willing your scrambled thoughts to formulate into words. “There’s been— there hasn’t—“ 
Bucky looked up at you from his knelt position, a small slither of vulnerability shining through his lust-hooded eyes. “Just me?” 
You gulped and nodded, staring into his wide blues with honesty. “Just you.”
A moment passed between you. The charged air filtered down to that spark that had always been buried through the heartbreak you both endured in your divorce. 
Bucky swallowed before placing a single kiss to the inside of your knee. “Then let me make up for that.” 
You leaned your head back against the shelf behind you as his lips traveled up the meat of your thighs, yelping each time he gently bit you. 
He murmured obscenities you could barely respond to as he edged closer to your pussy. You offered yourself freely, on a platter, as your legs opened even wider for him — the only man who ever truly owned you. 
His lips whispered over your mound, a hint for what was about to come. “I’ve been waiting to taste you again for years.” 
You moaned aloud, unhinged and unapologetic while Bucky licked a fat stripe up your cunt. Your nerves were alight with pure fire and you instantly grabbed onto the back of his head to push him further into you. 
You didn’t care if the action was needy — one single touch of him and you were a goner once again. 
He feasted on you, not coming up for air as he switched between sucking your clit and slurping your juices. “Oh my god— Bucky, baby you gotta— holy fuck.” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head.
Bucky wrapped his thick arms around your thighs and dragged you closer to him — all too happy to suffocate between your legs. “Sweet as a fuckin’ apple pie,” he murmured into you, the vibrations only deepening your pleasure. 
Looking down at him, his eyes were homed in on you, watching your every expression. They were blown out, wild while strands of his hair stuck out in every direction. 
Pulling away slightly, his heavy pants blew over your throbbing clit. “Daddy makin’ you feel good, Babydoll?” 
You hardly had time to reply as he immediately shoved his tongue into your clenching hole and fucked you with it. 
“Bucky!” you screamed to the ceiling. However, a harsh slap delivered to your thigh snapped you back to sense. 
“You know that’s not what you call me,” he barked. 
Whining, you corrected yourself. “Daddy, please!” 
You felt his smirk plastered over your pussy as he hummed into you, “There’s my good girl.” 
Your legs began to shake as you felt your climax creep to the surface and Bucky only doubled down with his sinful tongue that you somehow had forgotten he was way too talented with. 
“I’m close,” you whispered as your vision began to blur. “So close — please, please don’t stop.” 
Bucky continued his ministrations while your pussy fluttered around his tongue. Your release was within reaching distance and you gripped the washing machine, ready to let go until suddenly his presence was gone. 
You almost fell forward before you caught yourself with your remaining strength. The pent up tension that was wound in your stomach hadn’t loosened and it took you a second to realise you hadn’t cum. 
“W—what?” you mumbled shakily as you blinked your eyes open. Bucky stood there, his cock pulsing and viciously purple, with a smirk on his face, wiping his slick covered mouth with his arm. It disorientated you. 
“I haven’t—“ you swallowed the dryness of your mouth. “You didn’t make me—“ 
Bucky’s cock bobbed as he closed the distance between you, dizzying you even further with a passionate kiss. “No I didn’t, baby.” 
You whimpered in despair, the ache worsening. “But Daddy—“
“Nu-uh,” he breathed while lining his cock against your hole. “You’re only gonna fuckin’ cum when I say you can.”
Recklessly, Bucky pushed his full length into your pussy. You clung to his shoulders, your nails digging into him as the sheer size of his thick cock winded you enough to wail out. 
“Shit,” he cursed, a strain in his voice as he firmly gripped your hips. “Fuckin’ hell— Babydoll, how the fuck are you still so tight.” 
Impatiently, you fidgeted. Whether it was to escape how full he made you or try and force him deeper into your cunt you weren’t sure. All of it was too overwhelming to process.
“I can’t,” you shook your head, tears building over your glassy eyes. “You’re too big— Bucky, I can’t—“ 
“Yes you can,” he declared with conviction while he lifted your gaze to him. “You can take it, sweetheart.” 
Slowly, Bucky began to ease out of your cunt. His cock was coated with your wetness and he moaned deeply at the sight. He grinded back into you, his curved tip hitting every sensitive spot. 
“There we go,” he brushed your hair back and kissed your forehead, praising you. “Taking my cock so good, Babydoll. Just like always.” 
His touch was familiar, yet new — all consuming and claiming — and you melted into him, smothering his neck with a litany of kisses as he continued to gently thrust his cock into you. 
“M—Missed you,” you confessed, drunk from lust and emotion. “Missed you so much, Bucky.” 
The motion of his hips sped up as he began pounding into you with more force. “Yeah? You missed being a sweet little wife for me?” He taunted with an evil grin. “You loved being Daddy’s little slut, didn’t you?” 
“Mhm— Always your slut, Daddy!” You sobbed into his skin. 
His pace turned unrelenting, fierce after too much lost time. He fucked you as though he would be left out to dry after he was done. 
Grabbing your cheeks, he leaned his forehead against yours. “You’re mine, Babydoll,” he grunted. “Don’t care who’s fuckin’ taking you on dates. You belong to me.” 
Nodding your head, you fell mute, mouth gaped wide as you felt the knot begin to build up in your stomach once more. 
Bucky looked down to watch his dick glisten with your slick. The obscene sounds created from the amount of your juices leaking out only caused his cock to throb. Your cunt squelched with each thrust he made. But it wasn’t enough for him. 
Gathering saliva in his mouth, Bucky spat to where the two of you connected, groaning as it clung to your pussy and stringed out with his motions. 
Your squeals of pleasure began to get louder as the coil tightened, “I’m gonna—“ 
Before you could rush the words out, Bucky pleaded, “Tell me you love me.” 
Your eyes snapped up to his, more alert now. He didn’t falter, only fucked you with more abandon. 
“Tell me you love me,” he repeated once more, a demand this time.
“Bucky, I—“ 
“I know you do, Doll.” His hips started to twitch, his telltale sign that he was also close to cumming. However, you had an inclination that he wouldn’t let himself go until you gave him what you wanted. “I know you remember how good it used to be. Let me come home and I’ll fuck you this good whenever you want.” 
You gurgled around his fingers as he suddenly shoved them into your mouth, collecting the drool gathered on your tongue to bring them down to your clit. He didn’t ease them against you, instead rubbing tight circles rapidly, bringing you closer to the edge faster. 
It was impossible to escape his dark eyes or the fierce hold of his hand at the back of your neck. “Feels so fucking good, Daddy!” you blurted.
“I know, mama,” he assured as he drove his cock into you even harder. “Your cunt feels like heaven.” 
“I wanna cum,” you cried. “I need to cum.” 
“You know what you’ve gotta do then, don’t you, Babydoll?” 
You squeezed your eyes closed. The pleasure started to blend into a mix of pain and you were only slightly ashamed that it only turned you on more. “I—“ 
“Come on, baby. Give me what I want.” A few more punishing thrusts and you were treading the line of your impending orgasm. Your thighs shook violently and beads of sweat dripped down your chest. But when Bucky grounded out his next words, you fell apart. “Be a good wife for Daddy and tell me the truth.” 
You couldn’t hold back any longer, the balance of your orgasm tipping over along with the truth you tried to withhold. “I love you, Bucky!” 
Instantly, you felt the pulse of Bucky’s cock, a warm shoot of his load filling your cunt while you silently screamed and shook with the intensity of your climax. 
Everything fell deaf to your ears as you fought to catch your breath, slumping against Bucky. His heavy breaths blew your stray hairs sticking out from the sweat gathered on your head while his hips continued to slowly pump into you from the aftershocks of his own orgasm. 
You were brought back to the present with the gentle touch of his lips pressing against your cheeks, kissing your skin delicately. “Hey there, Babydoll.” 
While you would have normally been nervous, the energy that he had drained you of allowed your inhibitions and walls to crumble, leaving you to smile drunkenly at him. “Hi,” you whispered. 
Bucky checked you over, darting his eyes over your face. “You feeling okay?” 
“Mhm,” you mumbled, bringing your thumb up to swipe over his stubble you had always been fond of. “Freshly fucked and never better.” 
The corner of his lips curved up, a small mirth of laughter escaping him. He licked his lips and you detected a hint of nerves that crossed over his features. “I um— I’m sorry if I—“ 
You placed your pointer finger over his lips, shushing him. “You didn’t go too rough.” Slowly, you brought your finger down, hooking it into the collar of his shirt. “I enjoyed myself.” 
“Good.” He brought one of your hands up to his mouth to kiss the palm of your hand. “Good.” 
The two of you barely noticed his length still deep in you. All that you cared for was the weight suddenly released from your chest. 
“Did you mean it?” Bucky asked, cutting through the peaceful silence. He was defenseless, all guards down with a shimmer of hope twinkling in his ocean eyes. 
You knew exactly what he was referring to and you inhaled deeply before you replied, “I did.” 
He swallowed thickly, his emotion clear though his bright eyes. “I love you too — so fuckin’ much.” He nuzzled into your neck as your hand held him close to you. “I’ve missed you.” 
A lump gathered in your throat once more. Breathing in Bucky’s scent freely, without guilt this time, you sunk into his embrace even further. 
“Can I come home?” he whispered into your skin, a desperate plea. “I’ll do whatever you want — I’ll go to counseling with you, we can take things slow. I just need you back, Babydoll.” 
The answer was simple. You knew in your heart there was no one else for you, no one better. No matter your differences, everything would always lead back to Bucky and you were willing to give the two of you a second chance. 
“Okay,” you answered softly. 
His head shot up, eyes wide and red from the tears you felt gathering on your neck. “Okay?” he repeated hopefully. 
You smiled, kissing him gently on the lips before you muttered, “Come back home, baby.”
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The pan sizzled on the stove as you cooked the last pancake, a stack already piled high on the counter next to you for breakfast. 
Music played softly on the radio and you swayed your hips side to side, covered by a long T-shirt, while you hummed to yourself. 
You were interrupted from your task when a pair of thick arms wrapped around your middle, hugging you from behind tightly. “Yknow, I could have had my breakfast in bed,” Bucky grumbled into your ear, his deep morning voice causing your eyes to slightly flutter. 
You huffed a laugh before you mumbled, “I bet you could, greedy.” 
The bristles of his trimmed beard tickled your skin as he playfully nibbled your neck. “Can’t exactly blame a man when his woman tastes so sweet, Babydoll.” 
Your head started to feel heavy as you gave into his kisses, leaning back into his hold and opening yourself up for him. 
“There’s a good girl,” Bucky praised you. “You just let Daddy—“
Peaking an eye open, you watched as his hand crept forward, about to pinch a pancake from the pile. He yelped as you swatted his hand away, a pout on his lips while you grinned. 
“Nice try, Daddy,” you teased, smugly. 
Before Bucky could retort back, a sluggish set of small footsteps sounded over the floorboards and you whipped around to find your son, still sleepy, making his way to the dining table. 
“Morning, cupcake!” you greeted him cheerfully. 
With difficulty, he climbed his way onto one of the chairs, huffing with the effort and sinking down once comfortable. He looked towards you, blinking the sleep from his eyes. “Mornin’, mama—“ 
Frowning, your son looked towards Bucky, finally noticing him too. “Dadda?” he asked, confused. 
“Hey, pal.” Bucky treaded, carefully. 
Your son’s gaze fell to the lack of distance between you and Bucky, his hand still lingering on your waist. Keeping your composure, you waited nervously for his reaction. 
“He treat you good, mama?” he asked all so innocently with a hint of fierceness in his bright blue eyes. 
You watched with bated breath as Bucky stepped towards him, leaning over the table with his palm up to your son. “I’m gonna take good care of mama, “ he promised with sincerity. 
Your son deliberated for a moment before nodding his head and reached out to hold his Dad’s hand. “Okay, can I have pancakes now?” 
You sighed a breath of relief. “Of course, baby.” 
It was silent for a moment, in your small kitchen while you plated up breakfast for your family. Bucky and you shared an intimate smile until your son spoke up once again. “Just don’t forget about the ice cream you promised me.” 
Laughter filled the entirety of the kitchen, a home once again bathed in love — your perfect little family. 
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2K notes · View notes
mo-aiki · 2 months
Text
One-sided Love Exist... (Yandere Fiancé x F. Reader)
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Summary: You have been in love with your fiancé, but all you know is that he isn't in love with you until you do something about it.
Notes: I got this inspiration from @mayulla, their story is here. Also, I might or might not do a part 2 for this story so wait on that
Warning: fake love, forced love, obsession, I don't condone these behaviors, I just write it.
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Love.
Something you have always wished for to happen to you. All of the love stories you have read. You wished to be the princess saved by her knight or to be a princess who saves the one she loves. That was all you wanted. A knight or a prince in shining armor. That's where your fiancé came in.
A duke's son. Your fiancé, Alaric de Caius. He had seemed to fit the mold, perfectly. He looked regal and handsome with his black hair and dark blue eyes. You were only 9 when you had met him, but you couldn't help but smile when you first saw him.
Overtime you had absolutely fallen in love with him. He was a man of morals, he believe in the same things as you of what was right and wrong, he was academically talented, he was athletically talented, and he treated people around him the same whether or not they held a title.
A wonderful man.
But the problems arose when you had seen he had never paid attention towards you.
He never looked you way, seemed to say anything towards you, or seem to acknowledge you at all.
"Good morning Alaric!"
He wouldn't look.
You didn't understand why he ignored you. His indifference towards you, hurt. You didn't know if it was your ego that was hurting or it was truly your heart that was hurting, but something was in pain. But you didn't give up! Both of you were bound to get married to each other, one day!
Often talking to him first, soon enough he responded.
Bringing sweets such as cookies or sweet bread from the kitchen. Watching him eat it with no signs of disgust, might have made your day.
But you must also strive hard too! To be worthy of being a Duchess, you must help him by studying, taking up hobbies such as perfecting painting, embroidery and writing poems that have deep meanings. You must also know how to manage a household, so you asked your father if you could learn how to manage the servant's wages and everything going on in the household.
Everything you did was for him.
You did not partake in gossip with your bestest of friends, you didn't spread malicious rumors about someone, and you tried not to do the most selfish thing if there was a selfless option. Your friends, love you but saw you in pain. "Why do you do these stressful things (y/n)?" they would constantly ask.
"Because I am going to be future Duchess one day, I must prepare!" You would say cheerfully.
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Alina Thompson.
Her family was new money. Her father was a merchant who was able to strike gold in selling a once thought, rare ore. Opening trades with the east, she has risen to become the daughter or Baron Thompson.
Your friends didn't like her. One of them saying, "There is something off about her..." and another saying, "Why does she look at Duke Caius like that..."
You had brought it up to Alaric one day. He said there was, "Nothing to worry about, she is just an acquaintance.", and at first you didn't worry, heck you even befriended her. She was pretty. Her hair, long and blonde, her eyes a bright green color like emeralds, and her smile the brightest you have ever seen. She often wore pink and you did as well. But she always seemed to not get along with your friends after a few meetings. Or any noble women in fact. She had always stirred the pot with the other women in high society, supposedly acting different as if she had 2 different personalities in front of others. But she had always gotten along with the men. They spoke high praises of her. From her looks to personality. She even had admirers of her own. She was perfect, but most women disliked her. But you didn't think anything of it.
Until the day of the royal ball.
You saw with your very own eyes. Alaric's arm, being held by her's. She had the brightest, most shameless smile that day. All the men looked uncomfortable while the women were shocked. It was no secret that you and Alaric were engaged. And it was definitely no secret that you were in love with him.
They danced together. They wore matching outfits. Even the flowers on both of their corsages were the same. He had smiled at her as they were dancing. He gave her, her first dance of high society at her first ball, a royal one in fact. There was no way he had no idea what he meant by his actions. Your heart shattered as your friends got mad at both of them.
"Why that sly fox! How could she betray your kindness like this?!"
"(y/n)! If you need to I can kill him myself!"
"No!" you had quietly yelled out.
You friends looked at you, worried on their faces. "(b/s/f #1), (b/s/f #2), I need to...go..."
You ran away towards the royal garden, letting your tears to flow down.
Once you got home, you destroyed the books, the gifts he gave you and finally sat down on the floor and cried you heart out.
Your heart had shattered that day, nothing felt like it was going to fix it. It felt like the end of the world.
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The next day came, and you holed yourself up in your room.
Your bedroom door would not open. Nothing will work. Your father was worried, your friends, pestered at you, and the servants knock and check up on you as well. But even though you knew all these people cared, you truly only wanted one person to come and see you, Alaric.
You don't know if you were a masochist or not, but you did want answers.
Soon, one of the maids came in. "Leave me alone..." you mumbled in your pillow.
"No. Duke Caius is here to visit you. So I must get you ready, young lady."
You looked up at the maid as she chuckled. "What's so funny?" you asked almost like a pouting child.
"Your eyes are puffy my lady. If you do not want the Duke to notice it, I suggest you get ready, now."
You pouted as you got up.
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The next thing you knew, you had seen Alaric. His perfectly combed over hair, his eyes, calm, and the placement of his lapels, in order as followed. You had bowed your head down slightly, as he sat down at the table.
You didn't even bother looking at him. If you did, you didn't think you could bear it. It was an embarrassing night for you. All you did was look at your tea, slowly stirring the sugar cube, looking at it and spacing out in the process.
"(y/n)?"
You looked up. This was the first time he had ever called out your name. He had always referred to you as Lady (l/n), out of formality, but he has never called out your name like you do his.
"Did you hear what I said?"
You took a moment and shook your head. "No, I'm sorry..."
"That's okay, I can say it again."
Why did your heart tug at this? You felt yourself being anxious for what he wanted to say. But first you wanted the answer to why he brought Alina to the royal ball the other night.
"I had brought out Lady Thompson to the ball a few nights ago, because of her father. He had wanted to make sure his daughter secured an escort for her first royal ball. He had insisted I had better escort her, otherwise she wouldn't come."
An excuse.
"I helped her father find the rare ore that had made him Baron. I must help him again."
Lies.
"So that's your excuse..." you mumbled out of your mouth.
He looked at you, his eyes were still. He had no emotion after what you had just said. "(y/n), it's the truth."
"Lies. We are engaged, but my debutant ball and first royal ball, you didn't escort me at all."
You remember it well. He had said he was busy, and you thought nothing of it, because he wouldn't escort or dance with anyone else anyways.
"When we had our first dance, you didn't even look at me."
It broke your heart that night when you both finally had that first dance you had been waiting for, only to be sad when he didn't smile, look or seemed to be enjoying it in any way.
"I had wanted us to get matching outfits, but you held it off saying, 'you hadn't gotten measured yet'."
He would get measured for an outfit for another woman, but not you? His own fiancé?
You felt nothing but anger now towards him. "Was it a waste of my time to devote it all towards you? I know your favorite snacks, colors, meal, drink, what to do as duchess..."
You felt like you were about to cry again, but tried to hold it in. "WAS IT ALL FOR NOTHING?!" your hands slammed the table as you felt your tears coming down your face as you looked at him.
Hoping he would say it wasn't in vain. That all of these things you did for him, would mean something.
"I had never asked you to do these things, (y/n). I am tired of your antics."
You couldn't believe you had ever loved this man.
You immediately went back inside, and into your room to cry once more.
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Alaric has never needed anyone close to him.
He never understood you and your stupid antics to get closer towards him. From bringing snacks, to gifting the books he so wanted, to talking to him way to often.
He had an alright childhood. His father was sick and his mother was dead from childbirth, so he needed to become duke heir at a young age. Relying on himself to make the right or wrong decisions while his father's health deteriorated overtime.
His father wanted him to get married to his close friend, Marquis (l/n), so he arranged the engagement before his death, and after his death when he was 15, he kept it on because it was one of his father's final wishes. To see their families united.
But sometimes he couldn't stand (y/n). When he first met her, he had no opinions of her, other than the fact that she was nothing more than a clumsy girl trying to get his attention.
She was trying to live out fairytale romances through him. She had wanted him to be her knight in shining armor. And he didn't care for it.
He ignored her until she kept on pestering him.
Soon, they did their small talks.
He ignored the food she had gave him.
Until he ate it because he was hungry and it was his favorites.
He ignored her all throughout his childhood, because he never needed her as much as he did. He saw her as pathetic, but he couldn't help but fuel her pathetic attempts to get him to love her.
He did didn't need her. He didn't need her at all.
Plus, she was well liked. Both women and men liked her. But sometimes those men that liked her too much got on his nerves to the point of threatening them into silence. She didn't need him, she wanted him. And he didn't need her as well.
But he thought he felt something when he met Alina for the first time. But later, he realized it was nothing more than curiosity. But whenever he was around (y/n), there was always a feeling that he didn't know what it was, but always put it off, until it came creeping onto him whenever he was with Alina.
It was clear she was jealous of (y/n) and her life, so she had tried to mimic her. Her cheery attitude, beautiful smile, and her happy-go-lucky demeanor, even though he could tell that she was nothing more than hollow shell of an impression. She did all these things so that he could pay attention to her. But Alina was worse than (y/n).
Her personality and character are terrible.
She always seemed to get into fights with the other women. Whether petty drama or something a tad bit more serious. She had always seem to never get along with them. Unlike (y/n).
She was terrible at any financial things. Counting money properly, distributing money equally, and figuring out the budget. Unlike (y/n)
She had always seemed to look at others as if she was better than them. Often subtly bragging a new pendant, earrings, bracelet, shoes, dress, or hair accessories. Unlike (y/n)
Her tea was awful to drink. She always stepped on someone's toes for no good reason. Her embroidery was lackluster. Her paintings, a clear imitation. Unlike (y/n).
He remembered a time where (y/n)'s tea was bitter, when she stepped on someone's feet while dancing, when her paintings were dull, and when she had a hard time managing money. It was absolutely a clumsy and nerve-racking time. But slowly, it had shown improvement, unlike Alina's tea.
All of these hobbies that Alina had picked up and all of her personal quirks have cause him to realize one thing.
He would never look her way.
He picked Alina because he thought he could finally drive (y/n) away from her antics and say he is not interested in her at all.
When he went to the royal ball and was dancing with Alina, all he could ever think of was how (y/n) would react in the same situation. Her bright smile, cheerful eyes and glowing aura would all be very lovely. He couldn't help but unconsciously smile during the dance, and it seemed to have fueled Alina's determination to take her down.
But now he wonders why he had those thoughts during the dance with Alina.
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She had holed up in her manor ever since that royal ball.
Alaric didn't see her. No letter, no snacks, no anything. Nothing had came. He should be elated. Happy. Excited. Joyful.
But all he felt was a big hole. A big empty hole somewhere in his body.
He had thought he had heard her all over the place. "Alaric. You need to stop overworking yourself to death! You might get sick!"
"It's none of your concerns, Lady (l/n)."
"Huh?"
He looked up from his paperwork, only to see his secretary looking at him, confused? "What did you say, Your Grace?"'
He looked down at his paperwork. "Nothing of note."
It happened again when he was reading through the manor's ledgers. "Can I help you with that Alaric? I'm very good with ledgers!"
"It is fine Lady (l/n)."
"Your Grace?"
Once again, he looked up only to see his butler, looking at him confused.
He felt like he was going insane.
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He had developed a high fever one day from overworking. His butler called in the family's doctor, and the doctor said to take a break today.
But his fever kept on running, and the maids didn't know what to do. They gave him water that was too hot, his body kept on sweating, and they gave him food too salty for his condition. They were all incompetent when he was sick all of the sudden. And to top it off, his secretary still needed him to do paperwork for the estate.
During his time with his fever, he unconsciously only thought to see one person. (y/n).
He had wanted her to be by his side when he was sick. To take care of him and to see him recover. He wanted her to scold at him for overworking. He wanted to see her happy after he did recover from this fever. He had wanted to see her, no, he felt like he needed to see her.
He slowly opened his eyes as he was asleep for a bit. He thought he saw her in his groggy state. "...(y/n)..?"
Only to finally see clearly. It was Alina. And she looked pissed, but he was even more pissed. "How dare you! How dare you call out the name of that woman when I'm here?!"
He got up and yelled. "GUARDS!"
She got mad. "Oh, now you're calling the guards?! I came here to help you! And this is what I get?!"
He looked at her with contempt. "How did you know I was sick?"
She looked anxious. "The butler told me! He contacted me with a letter! Look!"
She pulled out a messily handwritten letter as people came up towards his room. His secretary and butler came to his side. "Who is this?" his secretary asked.
Alaric's head was banging, but managed to respond. "Lady Thompson. I do not know how she got here."
Alina looked scarred as the secretary called a maid to call the guards. "How did you get in here Lady Thompson?"
"I got here because the butler told me to come here because His Grace is sick!"
The butler looked confused. "I do not recall writing a letter to anyone."
Alina got mad. "Yes you did! I have the evidence!"
She held her letter as the secretary grabbed it out of her hands. "Butler, is this your handwriting?"
The butler fixed his glasses and shook his head. "I do not write this sloppily, even when writing fast."
Alina got even more mad as the guard got up the stairs. "Your Grace?"
"Take her away, and make sure she never sets foot in the estate again."
"Wha..? HEY!" The guards took Alina while she protested. All the servants went back to work as his secretary looked at him. "I will investigate where that letter came from, Your Grace."
Alaric looked at the ceiling as he started to lay down in his bed. "There is no need. But do investigate how she got in here and how she knew. We might have a stalker on our hands if I'm not careful..."
His secretary nodded. "Yes Your Grace, I hope you recover quickly, soon."
All he could do is stare up to the ceiling. Thinking. If (y/n) had done this, maybe he wouldn't had been as mad as he was back there. Maybe he would had enjoyed her trying to fumble out a response of how she knew he was sick. Maybe he would had enjoyed her antics of trying to cure him of his fever.
He couldn't help but chuckle as he slowly fell back asleep, dreaming.
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When he had gotten better after 3 days, he immediately went to the (l/n) estate. He didn't know why, but he needed to go there after his fever.
He was led to the garden as he waited for her to get ready. Then he looked around. The garden was filled with flowers. Pink, white, purple, and blue flowers seemed to be her favorite. The servants brought out her favorite tea set. A pink and white ceramic one. He has only seen it every time she had hosted her friends. She only brought out the other tea sets with him.
She looked different. She looked less lively. Her skin looked pale, her eyes a bit puffy and her hands fiddling with the tea cup, nervously.
He had only brought up his purpose at being in at the royal ball with Alina, when she started talking about his shortcomings in their relationship.
How he didn't accompany her to her first ball, didn't look at her for their first dance, and how he always gave an excuse for not wearing matching outfits.
But something came out of his mouth when talking to her. "I had never asked you to do these things, (y/n). I am tired of your antics."
He felt annoyed at her behavior. She got too clingy and annoying now. Bringing up insignificant things. She got annoying in this very moment.
She soon ran away as he left the (l/n) estate.
He wanted to go home and rid his memories of her immature behavior. Hoping that her behavior won't continue again.
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A/N: I should do a part 2. But you'll have to wait a while.
2K notes · View notes
lxkeee · 2 months
Text
TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
—PART TWO
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Genre: Angst (for now)
Warnings: Daddy issues.
Notes: Glad you guys loved the first part despite it being so short.
PART ONE | PART THREE | NAVIGATION
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The sunlight passed by the small gaps of the curtains, shining down on the face of a sleeping boy. Light blond hair messy but perfectly framing his beautiful face, red circles on his pale cheeks, a pop of color. He groans as he buries his face underneath the large fluffy white blanket, eventually groaning as he opens his eyes, [e/c] eyes adjusting to the brightness of his room. Sitting up on his queen sized bed that is surrounded by pillows. As much as he wants to sleep in, he has duties as an angel and as the son of [y/n] Caeles.
Getting out of bed, slipping his feet into the fluffy white slippers. He moved across his large room, stopping by a large mirror.
He frowns when sees his reflection, the only thing he can see is his deadbeat father who left his mother for another woman.
He hated it, he could see his supposed father staring back at him through the mirror. The fallen angel, Lucifer staring right back at him. A cruel reminder that he is his father's son.
He's thankful he has her eyes, at least he was able to have a piece of her on him. He hated his father, his mother never hid his father from him and told him everything what he wanted to know. He'd do anything for his mother. He loves her so much.
He knows that his mother often gets sad when he sees him, he knows because she could see the man that hurt her on his face. He doesn't blame her. He hated his face too, despite it being heaven's most beautiful facial features. He wished he had his mother's face instead.
Getting a large robe that was placed on the cushioned chair, draping it over his body. Time to get ready, he has a lot of work to do.
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[Y/n] looks up from her newspaper, seeing her son finally entering the dining room, dressed in his military like uniform but in colors of white and gold. She sat on one of the chairs of the dining table, a breakfast already made by yours truly—pancakes and bacon and of course, two cups of steaming black coffee.
[Y/n]'s eyes lit up when she saw her son, “Good morning Xavier, did you sleep well?” she asked with a small smile, watching as the boy sat next to her. Xavier gave his mother a close eyed smile.
“Good morning to you too, mother. You look very beautiful this morning.” he says softly, closing his eyes as he felt his mother's hand ruffle his hair, playfully groaning. “Hey! I just brushed my hair.” Xavier says with a small pout and [y/n] chuckles and places a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead.
“I couldn't help it, my boy is just the sweetest.” [y/n] says and Xavier blushes softly and just chuckles.
“It is because I have the most amazing mother in the whole world, that's why.” he says.
[Y/n] smiled at him, “Oh, you... Aren't you just the sweetest?” she giggled and he just chuckled.
The two made a sign of the cross, praying to say thank you for the blessings they have received. Finishing the prayer, the two finally ate breakfast.
“So you're going to be training with your uncle today?” [y/n] asked, looking at the young man beside her. Xavier nodded, he would be training with Uncle Michael today.
“Yes, mother. I am hoping he can help me improve on how to fight.” He says with a small smile and [y/n] squished the young man's cheek, the latter pouting.
“I know you'll do great, you make me so proud.” [y/n] says softly and Xavier had to try so hard not to cry. He loves it when he makes her happy, his mom deserves the whole world after all.
“Thanks, mom.” he says softly and her eyes soften and they continue to eat breakfast.
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After breakfast, Xavier helped his mother clean up the table and offered to wash the dishes. [Y/n] wanted to insist on doing it as she feared it would dirty his suit but the boy insisted. He just rolled up the sleeves and wore an apron.
When he was done doing his morning routine, he walked to the living room to see his mom already dressed for work. His eyes saddened, he won't be seeing her for a couple of days again.
Walking towards his mother, the older woman hugged her son. “Don't miss me too much, dearie.” [y/n] says with a giggle. Her hand rubbing circles on the boy's back.
“I'll try not to. I'm just worried.” Xavier says softly, he doesn't like it when she leaves to go to the mortal realm. He worries for her physically and mentally. Humans, human way of living is very... Mentally unhealthy and he fears it will affect his mother too.
[Y/n] smiled softly, patting the boys light blond hair. “Do not worry about me, Azrael would be there to protect me if needed.” she says with a smile.
With the mention of the angel of death, Xavier sees the older man like a father figure. The man has always been present in his life.
Xavier smiled and nodded, “Alright.”
[Y/n] smiles, “Good luck with training, don't overwork okay? Summon me if you must.” she says sternly as the two finally let go of the hug, her hand was placed on her waist.
Xavier nodded, “I promise and I will make you proud.”
[Y/n] grins, “That's my boy,” she says and snapped her fingers and a portal appeared, “Goodluck kiddo, I'll see you in a few days.” she says softly and places a kiss on his forehead before going inside the portal. The portal closes.
Taking one last look of himself on the mirror, the face of his biological father staring back at him. Xavier rolls his eyes and scoffed. Unrolling his sleeves, adjusting his collar. Unfurling his large and majestic white wings. It's time to train, he promised to become one of heaven's protector and he promised he'll rise the ranks and join his mother.
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Training with his uncle went by smoothly, he did lost but at least he learned something. Xavier was flying around heaven, wanting to return home but his eyes landed on a familiar seraphim. Emily, his heart started to beat faster. He always liked the girl, the girl is pretty and kind, okay?
His eyes landed on the person wearing such bright red suit. An eyesore, really. A pop of color in heaven.
Xavier tilted his head and decided to approach the girls.
Emily jumped slightly in surprise, seeing the beautiful and handsome and nonchalant looking young general that is her friend landed beside her gracefully.
Yes, Xavier puts up a front in public. He doesn't want others to know he's a total Mama's boy.
Xavier nodded and gave Emily a gentle smile, “Greetings, Emily. Off to showing off a new soul around?” he asked, voice gentle and calm.
Emily grinned and blushed slightly, nodding. “Not exactly a new resident, just a visitor.” Emily explained and Xavier turned to look at this supposed visitor and he could feel himself freeze slightly.
Who wouldn't freeze when seeing the same face as you but in the opposite gender.
“Xavier, this is Charlotte Morningstar...” Emily says hesitantly, now remembering who's the biological father of the boy.
Xavier's eyes narrowed but was quickly replaced as he gave the new girl a closed eyed smile, a forced one. “Really? So that makes you my half sister then?” Xavier says with a grin and Charlie's whole being froze.
Emily looked at the two nervously, she knows Xavier isn't violent but she does know how the boy hates his biological father to the core.
“... Half sister...?” Charlie asked, her voice in disbelief.
“Indeed! We share the same father. It is a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.” Xavier says with a grin but his eyes dull, no longer have the usual shine on them. Charlie was nervous, she doesn't know how to act around the boy. She knows he isn't lying because the boy literally looks like her father.
“How rude of me,” Xavier says with a small gasp, “Let me properly introduce myself, I am Xavier Caeles. Son of [y/n] Caeles. It is a pleasure to meet you, dear sister.” he says with a smirk, looking down on the girl (literally because he's taller than her, a trait he is thankful that he inherited from his mother. Good Lord, he would be miserable if he had his father's height), offering his hand for a handshake which the girl hesitantly and nervously returned.
“It is nice to meet you too... Xavier..” she says and Xavier grins, Emily just looked at the two nervously. Thanking that a fight nor an argument haven't started yet.
“It was a pleasure meeting you but I must go, I still have far more important matters to attend to. Emily, I'll catch up to you later.” Xavier says with a small smile, turning his back from the two girls.
Before he flies away, he stopped. Not bothering to look at his half sister, “Tell our dear father I said hi, okay? Farewell.” he says, not a single emotion in his voice. He quickly spreads his wings and flew off.
“Stars... I didn't expect to see my half sister today..” Xavier murmurs to himself as he flies back home.
Meanwhile, Charlie stood in disbelief next to Emily. Turning around to look at the Seraphim, “Was he really my...?” Charlie asked hesitantly and Emily nodded with a small sad smile, “Yes but it's not my story to tell.” Emily explained softly and Charlie nodded.
“Let us just continue showing you around, yeah?” Emily says softly and the princess of hell nodded.
Emily knows that Xavier's interest has been piqued. She knows he'll be there during the meeting now that he knows his half sister is going to be there.
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End Notes: I forgot to mention, reader's work clothes are the same as Arlecchino from Genshin Impact wears.
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@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @cadelinhadochoso
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targaryenluvs · 4 months
Text
— newcomer
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pairing: dark!luke castellan x childofaphrodite!reader
summary: luke becomes quite infatuated with you, the newcomer of the camp.
tw: obsession, stalking, distancing from friends, intimidation, luke is like deep in love, my horrible attempt at describing love? kinda lovebomby, mentions of violence/luke attacking others
word count: 1k words
a/n: my second pjo fic! i think percy is next 👀 - i don’t think i outright described a female reader, let me know if i did so i can change it!! i i’m going to try and be more inconspicuous with genders to fit all ❤️
right from the start, luke could tell there was something special about you.
of course he was to introduce himself to the new kids but for once he wanted to meet you. with a warm smile and his reassuring words, you were made to feel at home quite quickly.
you’d thought of luke being friendly in general before learning of the hermes cabin and his welcoming nature, but it didn’t seem to change anything between the two of you. luke was an excellent guide in your eyes, helping you settle into your new life, you were undeniably thankful for him.
he was a pitstop for many, if not all campers once they entered the place, a familiar face to help them all. but for you he seemed to go above and beyond. he wanted you to be as comfortable as possible, and he believed himself to be the key in your life at camp half-blood to happiness. you made him happy.
your bright smile and endearing personality melted his heart, you were a breath of fresh air and he couldn’t wait to bask in it.
even after you were claimed, by aphrodite nonetheless, you stuck around. it made sense to him, you were the most breathtaking person he’d ever seen. whether it was a smile from afar or a long conversation, you always made it a point in your day to spend time with him.
you wouldn’t do that for nobody now would you?
no, your sweet self was kind, especially to him. you liked him, like he liked you, and he’d be damned if he let you go.
you seemed to be the only person who didn’t notice his disdain towards those around you. the way he’d linger around the ares boy who’d been chatting you up at breakfast, the same boy who’d been attacked from behind during capture the flag, suffering a nasty slice on his back.
or how he’d humiliated one of your friends during archery, correcting their stance, taunting their attempts to hit the bullseye, throwing them off and laughing at them when they missed. it was all in good fun, right?
he was like a shadow, unwavering and lurking.
it wasn’t uncommon to find luke a few metres away from wherever you were. to find him accompanying you to dinner, to find the two of you practicing together early in the morning, alone, to focus better of course. slowly but surely he wriggled his way back into your life, all consuming and prominent.
until it was seen as odd to find you alone.
seemingly tied together, woven, meant to be. you completed him, you made him feel alive. you made luke feel electric, on fire almost. your presence and touch began to comfort him most, your voice being the only one to bring him down.
and when you were taken from him, whether by others or in general, he was unbearable.
the shining luke castellan crumbled without his support. he needed you, depended on you, like fire and oxygen, plants and sunlight, a song and dance. you kept him going, you filled his life with purpose, he wasn’t luke castellan, son of hermes, counseller, confidante, friend.
he was lu, he was yours, he was your ‘sunshine’.
and as if he wasn’t already insatiable with you as his friend, when you’d admitted your crush on him, luke was on a whole other level.
“lu,” he hummed, turning his head your way, “i want, i need to tell you something.” the soft grass, the warm sun and gentle breeze, they all calmed his erratic heart. what did you have to say? he despised the idea of not knowing what you were thinking.
luke waited with bated breath, his nails digging into his palm, pressure building, his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, not that you’d notice, he wouldn’t let you. “what is it sweetheart?” the two of you were sitting now, previously laid next to eachother on the picnic blanket.
“i think, i think i like you.”
and how could you not?
luke was the epitome of a gentleman, the kindest man you’d ever met. he made you feel special, you could always rely on your sunshine. in the months the two of you had known each other, it seemed he now knew you like the back of his hand. what you liked, what you disliked, the places you wanted to go and the places you’d been. you’d bared your soul to him, and you could only pray he loved you as you did him.
he was your strength, your courage, your friend, even if you hoped for more. he’d been there for you since the start, and you’d be forever grateful. so why not raise your relationship? fully commit to the one person who knew everything?
he’d crafted himself to be yours, to be everything you could ever wish for, as you were for him. luke had been waiting for your complete devotion, and he had it now, no one could make him let go. people often came and went in his life, leaving him in the past, he often felt taken advantage of, he gave up on the idea of someone to stay.
but you’d stay, blind with devotion and poisoned by his love, who on earth and in the heavens could treat you better than him?
your loyal luke.
“well i have a secret for you, only you.”
your eyes lifted to meet his, a small smile on your lips, “tell me luke,” his hand reached for yours, “what’s your secret?” your favourite flower, suddenly pulled from behind your head, placed behind your ear.
“i love you too.” he surged forwards, capturing you by surprise.
was this bliss? is this what it felt to be in love?
luke was intoxicating, his strong hands and loving voice, it consumed you. it was all so much, and it was all you’d ever wanted.
but a small voice in the back of your head was prominent.
you’d never said a single thing about love.
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flanaganfilm · 1 year
Note
Good day Mr Flanagan. please what does "the rest is confetti" mean to you and in the context it was used in hill house??
Okay, here we go. Buckle up for a long read.
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To answer this, I've got to explain a little bit about what was happening and where I was when I sat down to write episode 10 of The Haunting of Hill House.
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Hill House was not a fun shoot. The picture above is from very early in production, when I was still chubby and happy.
It was my first foray into television. I was absolutely terrified that I'd mess it up. So I'd opted to direct all of the episodes myself, figuring that - if nothing else - I'd have no one else to blame if it went south.
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It was the most grueling professional experience of my career. The shoot was by no means a smooth one, every day was an uphill battle from a budgetary perspective, and between the three giant production entities involved with the production, I spent a lot of time fighting over the creative and logistical elements of the series.
I began losing weight. I was smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.
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By the end of the shoot, I had dropped almost 40 lbs.
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I was very depressed. Every day was a battle, and for the first time in my career, I wasn't excited to go to work in the morning. We were fighting for basic resources, fighting for the show we wanted, and even fighting amongst ourselves by the end. It was grueling.
We hadn't written all of the scripts when we started production. I believe we had finished through episode 7, but the rest of the scripts had to be finished while we were already shooting.
We'd mapped everything out in the writers room, and I had great support on the other episodes, but I was writing the finale solo. I'd thought I'd be able to juggle it with everything else. I quickly fell behind.
I finally got to the script about halfway through production. I'd work on it between takes at the monitor, and then get home to our tiny rental house in Atlanta, where Kate was waiting with our baby son. (One of the rare bright spots of this shoot came when Kate found out she was pregnant about halfway through production. We even named our daughter Theodora, in honor of her origins.)
I'd typically fall down from exhaustion when I got home, but I had to push through it and work on the script. My weekends were spent shotlisting and prepping for upcoming episodes. We didn't have enough time to stay ahead of prep, so every available day was used for that... I went three months without a single day off at one point.
I'd sit up late staring at the script. I was in a dark, dark place. Overwhelmed, exhausted, and feeling like I lived in an eternal present. Each day bled into the next and it didn't feel like there was an end in sight. That feeling of unreality was heightened because we kept returning to the same sets, same locations, and even the same scenes throughout the 100 shooting-day production. Stepping back into the exact room we had shot in days or weeks or even months ago made the whole thing feel absolutely surreal. Making movies is always an non-linear experience, but this one felt particularly so... it was like the days of our lives were happening to us all out of order.
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I remember feeling something like despair creeping into my daily experience on the show. And I remember dwelling on that when I got into the scene work of episode 10.
As I worked through the draft, I recall that despair coloring a lot of what was on the page. My filter was breaking down. There's a monologue at the beginning of the episode where Steven's wife Leigh (played by my dear friend Samantha Sloyan) spews out a torrent of eviscerating insults about Steve's value as a writer. That is just me vomiting onto myself. She was voicing all of my deepest insecurities about myself at the time, and of what I was doing with this series.
She says "Is anything real before you write it, Steve? The things you write about, they're real. Those people are real, their feelings are real, their pain is real - but not to you, is it. Not until you chew it up, digest it, and shit it out onto a piece of paper and even then, it's a pale imitation at best."
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This was the mindset I was in for a lot of the shoot. The writing became a reflection of a lot of that turmoil, and I knew who I was referring to in that monologue - I was talking about my family. I was talking about how much of their lives I'd used as building material for this show. I was talking about the fact that I'd lost two loved ones to suicide, and seen what it had done to my mother in particular. And I knew I was using - possibly even exploiting - those people for this series.
There's a lot of despair in this episode. The Red Room, as we conceived it, was a place that would feed upon those emotions. Grief, sadness, loss... those were the real ghosts of our series, and where our characters find themselves at the start of the finale. They're being slowly digested - eaten alive - by those feelings.
So finally, it came time to write Nell's final scene with her siblings. I knew from the outline we'd constructed in the writers room what this was supposed to accomplish - she was supposed to be their salvation. She was supposed to take all of these feelings that we'd been wrestling with and finally provide catharsis... finally say something that would free everyone.
I remember sitting with a blinking cursor for a long time. The Crain siblings had just turned and seen Nellie standing by the door, and suddenly were able to hear her speak. But what should she say? What would I say? What would I want someone to say to me?
What she ultimately says lays bare a lot of what I was thinking about when it comes to grief. It exists outside of linear time, much as I felt I existed at the time. That sense of eternal present, that sense of a nonlinear eternity of moments and memories - it all came out in her speech to her brothers and sisters.
I remember feeling, looking at my insane present and looking back at my past, how strangely overwhelmed I was by memories. That I wasn't experiencing time in a straight line, and hadn't been for a while - for the better part of a year, I'd felt more like I was standing in a whirlwind of moments. "Our moments fall around us like..." Nell said, and I recall sitting back and trying to find the words.
"Rain," for certain, but there was something too uniform about that. The moments of life as I experienced them weren't that orderly, they weren't that small. They didn't fall the same way. Some sailed by, fast and unremarkable, while others lingered in front of me, twisting and stretching. So it was a good word, but not the right word. I left it on the page though.
"Snow" was my next attempt. Better, in that I imagined the snow blowing in the wind, swirling and dancing and feeling more organic. More chaotic. More like life. But for some reason, the word that stuck with me, the word I felt Nell Crain would connect with was...
"Confetti."
And that was because I was thinking not of Victoria Pedretti at this point, but of Violet McGraw.
Violet played Young Nell, and I wondered what she might have said if she experienced time this way. As an adult, Nell was despairing. Nell was overwhelmed. But as a child... there was an innocence to the word. There was a joy to the word.
I imagined moments falling around her, this little girl with the big smile and the wide eyes. Her moments would be colorful. They would be of different shapes and sizes, some falling fast and some falling slow, flipping and turning and dancing in the air, independent of the others. Sparkling, whirling, doing lazy summersaults as they sauntered down to Earth.
I thought of myself, and of the members of my family. I thought of those we'd lost. I realized what I hoped for them, and for us all, in the end... was to look upon that mosaic of experience, that avalanche of days and minutes and moments... and to smile with some of the joy we had as children.
And this, I thought, was something that gave me hope. This gave me a glimpse of some kind of salvation for them. This was also how I hoped my life might seem if I was a ghost - a cascade of color and light and shape and movement, something I could dance in.
So Nell smiled and said... "or confetti."
It stuck with me. The rest of her monologue gets heavy again, and gets to the real point of the show - the point of the whole series, if I'm honest - and that's forgiveness.
I figured the only thing that would let the Crain children out of the Red Room was to be forgiven. I thought of the losses in my own family, and I thought of what I wished for my mother and for my aunts and uncles and cousins and I tried to pour that into her final words.
"I loved you completely, and you loved me the same," she said, "that's all." And this was the point I wanted the most to make. That at the end of our life, if we can say this about each other, the rest doesn't matter. The rest is that rainstorm, or that blizzard, that fell around this one central truth, and maybe built itself in piles around it, to the point we lost sight of it along the way.
And I thought again of that little girl, and almost as an afterthought, wrote "The rest is confetti."
I liked the way it sounded, but I was insecure about the line. I almost took it out, in fact. I remember asking Kate to read the scene and talking about that last line with her. "Is it too cute?" I wondered. She was on the fence. "Depends on how it's acted," she said, and I figured she was right. We could always take it out if it didn't work. The scene could end with "I loved you completely, and you loved me the same. That's all."
Why not shoot it and see what happened.
I turned in the script, we published it quickly so that we could start breaking it down and prepping it. And the next morning I was back on set. I'd deal with episode 10 when it came down the pipe again, sometime in the coming months. We had a lot of shooting to get through before I had to worry about it.
I recall Netflix asking me to cut a lot of that monologue, and I remember them also having questions about the "confetti" line. I pointed out that it didn't cost us any extra to shoot it all, it was only words, and fought to keep the script intact.
Ultimately, they insisted I make a series of cuts on the page. I begrudgingly agreed, but left Nell's speech alone. I made superficial cuts around it, throughout the draft, and even considered changing the font size to fool them into thinking it had gotten shorter (I ultimately was told I wouldn't fool anyone and not to risk starting a war). But Nellie's final goodbye stayed intact.
It must be said - Victoria Pedretti SLAUGHTERED this scene.
By the time we got around to filming it, things had never been worse for the production. There was almost nothing left for a lot of us. Tensions were sky-high, resources had been exhausted completely, and we were all ready to give up.
Filming in the mold-ridden Red Room was depressing, morose, and led to a lot of arguments and unpleasantness. The room itself just felt gross, always, and we were in there for days at a time. The last thing we had to shoot in there was Nellie's goodbye.
Victoria came to set having to push through pages of monologue, and she did so with captivating bravado. I recall being teary-eyed at the monitor watching her work. And when we finally made it to the last line, I watched her deliver it with... a smile. A sincere, innocent, longing, joyful smile. A smile informed by the sadness, grief, and loss of her own situation, of her own life... but a smile that finds forgiveness and grace after all. Pedretti knew how to say the line, and how that word would work.
And as she said it, I knew it would stay in the show.
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Over the years, that sentence has become something of a tagline for The Haunting of Hill House. I'm always a bit mystified and touched when I see people approach me with the line on T-shirts, or even tattooed on their bodies.
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I started signing it with autographs back in 2020 after enough fans asked me to. Now it's my go-to when I sign anything related to Hill House.
The line, for me, represents a lot of things.
It's about the insane, chaotic, non-linear experience of making that show. It's about trying to find and hold onto joy, even in the grips of despair.
It's about the way the moments of our lives aren't linear, not really, and how we may be unable to understand them as we exist in their flurry. It's about finding hope, innocence and forgiveness in the final reckoning.
And it's about how, outside of our love for each other, the rest is just... well, it's fleeting. It's colorful. It's overwhelming. It's blinding. It's dancing. And, if we look at it right, it's beautiful. But it's also light. It's tinsel. It flits and dances and falls and fades, it's as light as air.
The rest is the stuff that falls around us, and flits away into nothing.
It's the love that stays.
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sukunas-wife · 29 days
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What about the idea that baby Yuuji overhears the screams in the bedroom and thinks Sukuna is hurting mommy?🥺Mommy's little protector. Or the baby asks why they need a collar on the bed, but the mother lies that it is for their future dog/cat. Sukuna is unhappy, but is forced to get a pet because Yuuji is too happy
Hehe pervert 🤭 I’m joking 🥹🤍 but I love the idea
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This is the first time your little sweet heart Yuji wasn’t by your side. Today his heart was set on following Uraume around, he was set on following him convinced at times of the day he was just a ghost who would vanish into thin air. Uraume didn’t have a problem with letting his young master follow him as long as he didn’t have to slow down his own business.
You’d see them cross your path a few times that day, Yuji always waving his chubby hand at you with a bright smile before running off to catch up.
The first time Sukuna saw you that day was just before midday, you were out in the garden under the plum tree fingers grazing the fruits you craved. He strolled over scaring you when you felt two of his hands on your waist, the third reaching up with ease to pull down the golden plums you struggled to reach.
“Thank you,” you reached up to his face bringing him down to kiss his lips, he bit at your bottom lip before he pulled away looking at you amused, “Where’s my son?” You turned to face him, smiling as your eyes moved away from him, “OUR son wanted to assure Uraume is not a spirit. Yuji is set on following them around from dawn till dusk.”
You looked back up at Sukuna, he brought a hand up to each side of your waist, “Is that so?” You felt like prey when he pressed you back against the tree, his third arm pressed over head against the bark, his fourth hand came up grabbing a strand of your hair running it between his fingers. “Well, now that you don't have our little brat with you, what are you going to do?” He leaned down closer to your face, his scent filled your air accompanied by his low suggestive tone, “More importantly what are we going to do together.” All it took in that moment was for his lips to meet yours while he brought you closer to his body, holding you close and whispering filthy words against your lips.
It was four or five hours past midday, one or two hours before dinner. Uraume was still on the move with purpose in their step and their mind set on completing whatever tasks Sukuna had assigned them that morning.
One of those tasks was to bring fresh robes to Sukuna’s separate chambers. Which lead Uraume to enter though your shared chambers and they would’ve gladly ignored the sound of wooden frame of your bed creaking. Not have batted an eye at Lord Sukuna’s muffled grunts and your quiet cries. Uraume, the master of “I mind my own damn business but I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS” went about business until they heard the small voice.
“Uwaume! Mommy’s crying! We need to help her!” Uraume quickly snapped around snatching up Yuji, “Don’t worry Young Yuji, your mother is perfectly-“ Both of them were cut off by the sound of wood cracking and a slam. Followed by Lord Sukuna’s voice reverberating clearly through the heavy wooden doors to your private chamber. The last thing was your weak voice saying Sukuna’s name. The string of curses and your name from his father had Yuji shoving his way out of Uraume’s hold and running to your doors.
Behind closed doors you almost peed yourself hearing the bangs on the door and Yuji’s screams. “MOMMY MOMMY ARE YOU OKAY!? DADDY IF YOUR HURT MOMMY IM IMA! IM GONNA…” the banging stopped, “LEMME GO LEEMMEEEE GGOOOOAAAGGGGHHHHHHH” you could almost see the way Yuji was kicking and squirming in Uraume’s hold.
Your heart was racing, and you took a deep breath, “Su,” you looked down at him where he was still laying on you. He looked up at you amused, “Your son just threatened me through a door for hurting you.” His chest rumbled as he let out a breathy laugh. You rolled your eyes, “OUR SON, just heard you trying to give him a sibling and your humoured that all that came from it was he was threatening you?” Your eyebrows raised with a slight smile, you were amused but still concerned for what your little Yuji heard.
Sukuna groaned rolling off your body to avoid crushing you entirely, your bed creaked and finished falling to the floor as the last two legs gave out. You tried not to laugh at Sukuna’s slightly widened eyes. “Your next bed will be one of those made of solid cedar. These raised beds are flimsy and break always.” Rolling over to his side you placed a hand on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, “Or maybe, you shouldn't let your ego get so big and see if you can break every new bed you bring into my chambers?” Sukuna looked away, both arms on the side you were pressed up against holding you close, “I’ll think about it. Now come here, take that collar off before it taints your skin red.”
Almost an hour passed of Uraume holding Yuji like a sack of potatoes under his arm to keep him from running to your room. In that hour you briefly fell asleep under the graze of Sukuna’s hands. The red leather Sukuna had his name branded into was pulled off your neck and thrown onto your bed to be cleaned up later with your bed.
Waking up from your short rest you got up, Sukuna helping tie your Obi and managing to loosely tie your hair in a nice manner. Of course you couldn’t walk away from him without having your ass smacked. Your walking was cut short the moment you tried and couldn’t take more than a few steps and your own legs caving causing you to fall into your husband who was smirking down at you with lidded eyes. The puff in chest, pride in his lidded eyes, the smug “heh,” you almost missed made you side eye him. “You were the one who asked me,” he mimicked your voice poorly, “Please please fuck me Sukuna, give me everything.”
While he snickered he assisted in helping you sit in your shared chambers bed while poking and prodding at you and your sensitive bruising body.
Sukuna was chuckling to himself as he pulled the blanket over your lap, “I’ll call for Uraume or one of your little maids to bring you dinner. I’ll tell them you’ve fallen ill and it’s best to let you eat and rest.”
There you sat, watching your husband look back at you one last time with a faint smile before he left. You sat in the silence taking a breath, that was until you heard a familiar scream and the sound of little feet running in your direction, “OI BRAT! I JUST TOLD YOU YOUR MOTHERS ILL!” You laughed silently at Sukuna’s yelling, Yuji who let out a little grunt and shoved with all his weight against the wooden doors, “mmoommyy!!?!” He ran to your side of the bed doing everything to climb up, even pulling your blanket down so he could hold on and pull himself up. When he was finally on the bed he sat on your legs looking up at you with those big round eyes, “Are you okay?” His little hands came together, he was looking at you with so much concern it squeezed your heart making you wanted to kiss all over his face and fawn over him.
So you did, he laughed being pulled into your chest as you kissed all over his face and squeezing him in a tight hug that he did his best to hug you back. “Yes baby I’m alright, daddy and I were just having a discussion and you know your daddy.” Yuji laughed, eyes closing while he smiled big “hehe he breaks things.”
It wasn’t long before Sukuna walked in with one of your ladies, she was holding a tray with your dinner, Yuji bounced off your lap and onto the floor “Wanna go see what daddy broke.” You watched as he ran to your room, pushing past the door. Your lady in waiting helped you adjust yourself to be able to eat whatever was served. That was until you heard Yuji’s loud cheery voice “WERE GETTING A DOGGY!?”
You were confused as you looked at Sukuna and he seemed equally confused until you saw his eyes widen slightly before he went back to a neutral expression.
“Yuji, we are not getting a mutt.” You watched as he got closer to your door and you understood why he came to that idea, you looked down at your food feeling heat rise in your cheeks, “but it even had a name!” Yuji came running out of your room with the bright red collar in hand, an oval token hanging that said “Princess” . He had the biggest smile and was visibly excited.
Your lady in waiting was quick to dismiss herself as you waved her off, “We ARE getting a dog Yuji, come here.” You waved him over moving your tray off your lap, “Y/n- we’re not getting a- we are Ryomen.” You gave him a look and he gave you a look. You were both stuck in a stare off, the tension was there, “Ooouu that’s why daddy broke the bed, he can’t say no.” Sukuna looked taken aback, “I said no! And No is no!” He crossed his arms over his chest staring down at You and Yuji who sat in your lap holding the collar. Yuji looked up at you with a smile kicking his feet waiting to hear what you would say.
“Sukuna.” Your brows raised before you angled your head taking the collar from Yuji, “Why wouldn’t we get a DOG if we have a COLLAR.” you spoke through gritted teeth and he kept a hard stare on you, Yuji brought his little fists up to cover his smile, he was looking up at you with stars in his eyes, if anyone could bend his father like bamboo it was you.
Sukuna sighed and rolled his eyes, “FINE- but I'M choosing it, and NO ONE gets a say.” Yuji’s cheer of pure joy made him kick out his legs and throw out his arms. He was quick to hug you and kiss your chefs before running to his dad hugging his leg, “thank you daddy.” Sukuna couldn’t deny he had a soft spot in his soul for his son, especially when he placed a hand on Yuji’s head giving his head a rub. “Sure brat.”
A week had passed and you were outside with Yuji, he was using a stick like a sword attacking a tree making all sorts of sounds as if he were really fighting for his life.
“Oouuuuaaahhh” Yuji’s hands dropped to his sides when he saw his daddy emerge from the path.
“Mommy…” you were just as shocked. Here came Sukuna tether in hand. Until he got to both of you, “well?”
“Sukuna…” you looked at Yuji who looked excited, his eyes were wide and shining, his smile was big and his little fists were shaking in excitement as he stood there basically vibrating in excitement, “That’s not a dog..”
“IT'S A TIGER!!” You didn’t catch Yuji as he ran and hugged the tiger, your eye was twitching while he buried his face in the tiger's neck, his little arms not enough to encircle the beast.
“It’s better than a mutt,” you watched as he knelt, on arms resting on the tigers back, the other leaving firm pats on the tigers chest. Keeping the tether in his hand. “It’s tame also, she came from a palace where she was used to guard someone’s children, so she’ll take care of Yuji.”
You wanted to reject the idea just to hear Yuji’s little voice “I love you princess.” It squeezed your heart to see how cute he looked hugging her, she sat bringing one of her big paws over his shoulder like she was actually hugging him.
“I don’t think… I don't think it's good.- you hear that Yuji? I don’t think your mom wants us to keep her?” He looked at you while hugging Princess, his eyes started to tear up, dammit you never thought he’d use that against you, much less would it be that effective., “Please mommy?” He was looking up at you, and Sukuna was too, behind his son he had a sly smile, turning your plan against you, then there was princess, who looked up at you, purring while Yuji held on tighter, “Fine- but no Tigers on my bed, and maybe a new name… I don’t think the collar we have was meant for a fully grown… tiger..”
Yuji ran hugging you, “Daddy can get her a new collar and we can think of a new name like… like… lightning!” You snorted trying to not laugh, “Lightning is cute Yu, but I think she needs a better name.” He hummed, thinking while looking around, “What about lilies like the flower?” His little finger pointed past you, you turned to see the tiger lily he was pointing at, “It’s a pretty name if you like it.”
He walked over to Lily, his hands on her cheeks fluffing the tufts of fur, “What do you think lily?” The only response he got was Lily nuzzling his face with her nose, “I think she likes it.”
You looked at Sukuna and didn’t miss the smile on his face and the soft expression on his face. He loved his brat. You knew that he didn’t just find a tiger in some palace, he had to have already planned it to some extent.
Walking to his side you hugged his side, “I love you.” Doing your best with your free hand to pull him down, you kissed his cheek and he let out a “heh” sound. “So how long have you really had this planned?” You cocked a brow with a sure smile, “From the day of Yuji’s birth it was made known to me, one of those fools that live scared behind palace walls imported more than just a few.” You saw the smug look on his face and shook your head with a smile, “You are beyond belief.”
“LOOK” both of you turned to Yuji who had jumped on Lily trying to ride her, “Go lily go!” She only looked back at him and you looked away with a smile before Sukuna dropped the tether, “You heard the boy Lily.”
All you heard was Yuji’s scream when Lily started a decent pace run. Your mouth opened slightly, “su- he’ll be fine.” Was all Sukuna said cutting you off before wrapping both arms on his side around you. “Now, let’s talk about your punishment for defying me so openly in front of my son.” He took your jaw in one of his free hands, making you look up at him, those lidded eyes and sly smile made your nerves tingle, “Oh?”
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Tag List: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @bofadeezs @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing
Here’s my shop btw 🥺
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poeticmystery · 4 months
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:・゚✧:・゚ RAY OF SUNSHINE (p.j.)
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summary : in which percy jackson feels attached, in some way, to a girl he just met.
w.c. : about 1k
a/n : part 2! thank you for all the support on the firsg part, there will be more to follow!
this is also on my wattpad: poet1cmystery
warning(s) : none!
| riordanverse masterlist | navigation | part 1 |
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚
percy awoke near midnight, having slept for almost seven hours. he had been woken up by a nightmare, just like usual. The stars hanging in the sky painted a serene picture for him as he stared out through the small infirmary window, the view calming him quickly. for once, the camp around him was quiet. no bustling demigods, no chattering kids. just quiet. 
the son of poseidon sat up, looking around more. he was never in here for as long of a time as he had been currently. he never noticed how old the withering wood was, its brown shade falling to a reddish-beige. they were surrounded by magic but still couldn't repair the infirmary. huh. he could definitely see the imprints the apollo children had made, even just in the small room he was in. there was an overall sense of brightness, despite the late hour it was. it felt welcoming, in a way. 
he debated on going back to his cabin now or staying here until morning. the harpies would be out, so that definitely wouldn't be preferable. still, could he really stay for this long? y/n had told him to stay until he felt better...
so, he stayed, in hopes of seeing her again. he was still curious about the connection he felt to her. curious about why her eyes felt so familiar. he tried to rack his brain for answer, yet nothing came to mind. there was a faint image of those eyes on a little girl, their e/c being illuminated by a ray of sunshine. but that was where the memory faded. nothing around the young girl seemed familiar, none of the scenery. he couldn’t even tell if the memory was indoors.
percy noticed the lack of movement, even inside of the infirmary. apollo kids had to sleep too. the only sound he heard was the low chirping of crickets, occasionally seeing one of their tiny bodies hopping by, being illuminated by the fading moonlight.
the lack of light was seamlessly replaced by an orange hue, accompanying the rising sun in the distance. it must’ve been closer to morning than what he had thought. well, that just meant he got to see this mysterious girl sooner.
the stars faded slowly, as if running from the intruding daylight.
y/n walked into the infirmary, smiles and all, the view causing a small grin to even grow to his own face. the optimistic attitude she often boar wasn’t new, but still found a way to draw him in.
“oh!” she looked surprised to see him, was that bad? should he have left when we woke up? the wide smile said otherwise, but he was beginning to think it was permanent, regardless of the situation. his mind raced, and he didn’t know why. it wasn’t like this with anyone else that’d help him. why her?
“i didn’t realize you were still here. are you feeling better at least?” she questioned, concern lacing her features.
“uh, yeah,” he swallowed, trying to get the ugly taste out of his mouth, “ ‘m feeling a lot better. thank you.”
“it’s what i’m here for,” she replied cheerily, spinning on her heel and moving away from the open doorway.
 he gave it a few minutes, then slowly sat up. as the blanket fell from his shoulders, a sudden wave of cool air reminded him of the shirt he wasn’t wearing.  his eyes roamed the enclosed area, searching for the familiar orange fabric of his camp-tee. then, he saw it hanging on a plastic hanger, seemingly clean. he took slightly shaky steps towards it, eventually shrugging it over his shoulders, letting it fall past his arms. 
he walked out of the room he was in, slightly zoned out. unfortunately for him, he bumped into the girl he had been trying to figure out.
“ah, shit, sorry y/n,” he said quickly, gently reaching to grab her arm to steady her.
she didn’t seem bothered. “it’s alright, are you going?”
he nodded, releasing his grip from her arm. “i’ll see you around?” he asked, hoping the answer was yes. maybe then he could figure out where he knew her from.
“of course, percy.”
her words made him smile, even if she just meant them half-heartedly. (she definitely did, he could tell.) he stepped out into the now fully-risen sun, its rays beating down on him despite the chill held by the autumn air.
immediately, he was greeted by his short, fast-talking friend. the one and only, leo valdez.
“where have you been?” the boy exclaimed, his head tilting slightly upwards to meet percy’s eyes.
“dude, it’s been like a day,” percy said flatly.
almost on instinct, percy checked his pockets for his trusted pen. no matter how long he had had it, he still wasn’t used to the fact he couldn’t lose it. just like he suspected, it was safely sitting in the back pocket of his jeans.
percy’s gaze wondered back towards the infirmary one last time, before quickly flicking back to leo, trying to listen to what the boy was discussing as they walked further and further away.
he noticed leo looking at him expectantly, and just nodded his head, seemingly agreeing to what had just been said. “yeah, of course.”
“you weren’t listening, were you?” leo groans.
“not at all,” the boy admitted, not wanting to lie to one of his closest friends.
“tell me again?” he offered, smirking sheepishly down at leo, who rolled his eyes. still, the boy repeated what he had said, this time earning a real response from percy.
the two boys conversed, occasionally shoving each other around as they walked over the dirt pathways winding between the camp cabins. eventually, they heard a horn blow, signaling breakfast.
arriving at the pavilion, percy noticed y/n walking towards a table seating annabeth chase, piper mclean, and luke castellan. wait.
luke castellan?
why was she sitting with luke castellan? 
why did percy care? 
he didn’t. right?
no, of course he didn’t. why would he?
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taglist : @iamforeverandalwaystired, lmk if you wanna be added!
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lundenloves · 4 months
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“ 𝐅𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ” ¹
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≔ in which simon’s son enlists behind his back. ceramics are smashed, threats are thrown and feelings are hurt behind nonchalant expressions.
⤷ *return of the mac in the background* i wasn’t really sure which route to go down with this so i just blind wrote it. if you don’t agree with any of the following actions or words, keep it to yourself because i really do not care. it’s been a long hibernation, troops.
∷ warnings of abusive dynamics if you squint but mainly just unnerving silence and abrupt shouting | 2.3k
masterlist | dad!simon masterlist | taglist | request info
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Eight thirty. 
Three hours into Simon’s habitually quiet morning routine with the rising sun pouring keenly through the kitchen window, and sparrows chirping a little too loud — the mail had slid through the door.
A modest fall of envelopes, taking each one with a crease between his brows after sifting through them, eyes glossing over each addressee while walking to the kitchen table with the stack. He liked it this way. He liked the known, finding a specific comfort in knowing that the mail would come on the same dot every, single, day. 
Not that there was ever anything special. Only the usual, clubcard points, screwfix leaflets, disgusting bank statements and various military envelopes on his current pension plan. Christ. 
He sat down, pulling a lip upward to disregard more than half of his own mail, tossing it to the counter behind him for the bin. “What a load of shit.” Came a grumble, kissing his teeth at the mere £3.40 discount he had received for spending over £300 in Tesco. 
Though the pending sigh was lost for a singular stand out letter. One he seemed to still over, chest dipping in regret. Regret for nothing in particular, only a sinking feeling for the familiar Be The Best motto cast upon the right side of one envelope — different to his Who Dares Wins slogan. The envelope wasn’t for him. 
The birds hadn’t paused their songs, an ambient morning now fuelling a slow anger. An inter boiling one, but for now simmering with long breaths. In and out. His shoulders broke inward with large palms leant on the counter, craning his neck side to side to release placebo tension. 
The letter mocked him. A bit of paper that had permanently strained something, “Fucking hell, son.” He picked it up, flipping it backward to frontward as if the writing would change. As if his son's name would disappear from under the window of the envelope. Though it didn’t, and the paper was slid to the depth of the counter, prompting Simon to rub at his bottom lip.
It took three minutes of silence before he was being followed downstairs by his son. Few words exchanged, and surprisingly fewer questions. They both knew, and tension had already built, bringing Simon’s anger to a heavier simmer. The prior efforts of calmness were obliterated at the sight of the kitchen once more, the pad of his foot tapping against the vinyl flooring.
“What the fuck is this?” The letter was slid across the counter, branded and bred in the British military with the familiar crest proud in the top right. It looked sinful, like something exposing, illegal even. The boy's stare was one of tiredness, palms flat on the kitchen counter to stare down at the envelope on the oak.
Fatigue hadn’t quite left his eyes, squinted in the bright dawn. “What’s what?”
Though his words were met with silence and the birds chirping outside seemed wrong. The moment had forced a thicker, uglier tension into the room, and his son rounded the counter to pick up the letter. Brash and pasted, once again, in military branding. 
His eyes fell to his father. 
A picture of disappointment, veiled with frustration through a glare, one so strong it almost felt off-putting. Stress seemed evident via the way his hand had pushed toward the back of his neck, running upward and down the front of his face. 
“What is it?” The same question, though this time quiet and sincere. His eyes had regrettably softened for all of two seconds before a leg had begun bouncing in compromise after taking a seat in pre-ceasefire. 
“Nothing.” A teenage mumble. 
Simon laughed dryly, shaking his head with a palm flat on the counter. “This.” He raised his hand, now only the tips of his fingers on the letter. “This isn’t nothing.” Eyes catching his mirror image, a lanky eighteen year old with next to no muscle. It was devastating, really.
“It’s just mail.” 
“Open it.” A stern command, standing up and boring his eyes further into the boy before him. His height and build was much more significant, effectively towering over the six foot kid with all of his broadness.
“It’s none of your business, like.” The croaked words of a voice just woken were ones Simon raised brows at. 
“Anything with that crest is my business.” 
The similarities between his younger self and the boy before him was something Simon internally hated. He hated that his son had genetically taken not only his originally scrawny, defenceless build but also his raging attitude and temper issues. Dark eyes and accompanying circles, a rare smile and sigh of laughter.
Though not one bone had been broken in his body, his nose wasn’t squinted from various punches and his skin hadn’t been plagued by scars of battle. Something Simon could always draw a line between, though, he no longer held that power. 
The kid begrudgingly opened the letter, hunching shoulders inward as if to shield it from his father. A congratulatory letter, one addressed to his name in bold letters with an offer to train at the military academy for a reserved cadetship upon completion. 
The silence was loud. 
Simon knew what it was before it had been opened. His fingers pinched at the bridge of his nose, and rubbed at his temples. “Fucking hell mate.” A deep breath was taken, chest puffing out with the inhale. “Fuck sake.” 
His son felt like a child again, small and inwardly anxious for his fathers reaction. Not that Simon was ever violent, not ever, but he was a different kind of frightening. Silent. He gave you the option to take whatever you’d wanted from his step back, though fiery eyes only pushed you down one slope. Anxiety and paired overthinking, it came as part and parcel of the Riley name. 
“I was goin’t tell you.” 
Another laugh escaped Simon, “At what point?” The side of his lip curved upward, though there was no real amusement. “Look at me.”
There was a scoff from his son in response, shaking his head with eyes locking back to the letter. Ink printed in gratification. “Nothin’ to do with you though is it?” The second part came as a mumble for the internal struggle to hold back aggression. Though it slipped through, naturally. 
“What did I say? Fuckin’ hell.” Simon growled, taking the envelope from the boy and skim-reading it. “Right.” He cleared his throat. “The fifth, next month, yeah?” Eyes flicking to his son who had shrugged, slinking off behind Simon to look through cupboards in evident dismissal.
“Dunno–”
“You’re out.” 
They had spoken in unison, each person cancelling the other out to create a bout of eye contact. “What?” The quirk in his lip was a giveaway of building frustration, eyes cast directly across his father who stood just taller than him. “I’m out?”
“You’re out the house.” Simon slid the letter across the counter in finality, “As soon as you leave for that camp. You’re gone.”
“What the fuck.”
“Big enough to enlist?” His tone was venomous, something his son was unable to contest. “Big enough to fucking leave.” The letter had been picked up by the kid, eyes skimming it over, eyes darting across the page while familiar anger had slowly built.
“Fuck off.” He mumbled, brows pulled together in a foul mix of annoyance and evident upset over his fathers’ dismissal. “Any other dad would be proud of that.” The letter dropped to his abdomen, two shaky hands still clutching to the torn envelope. “Not you though, yeah, not fuckin’ you. ‘Course not.”
There was a pause before a crash. 
A split decision of anger, one Simon mirrored at that age. A raging feeling of internal emotion that was only alleviated in bursts of aggression and breakage - punching holes in doors or smashing dishware. There was never a safe space to feel, therefore it came out unwillingly. 
For his son, it was a failing on his behalf as a father. That space was never created for lack of recovery had never allowed real estate. 
Multiple ceramics flown off the counter with one hand swoop, “Such a cunt.” His chest heaved and Simon’s eyes bore into his. Solemnity follows each and every moment with an unnerving silence, though it wasn’t continued when aggravated palms had landed on his chest, a teenage attempt to express.
“Don’t.” A bark, complete with snarling and a metaphorical showing of canines. A hand caught the boy's forearm, an admittedly tighter than required grip. “Don’t you fucking dare.” And for a moment, he feared he sounded like his father. 
Though he did dare. 
A rebellion as it was.
Again, a heavy palm had landed on his fathers’ chest - uncaught and if any stronger than the age of eighteen would’ve at least budged Simon. And, god, did he sound like his father with the promise of violence, a grip on his son’s shirt to hold him against the wall at the action alone.
A huff of air fell through his nose, head tilted, “If you enlist and you have this attitude,” The words were spoken through gritted teeth, eyes fixed to the wall he held the boy against to speak just above his ear. “They’ll send you right fucking back.” Though his son no longer recognised dad. This was someone else, someone he was never to meet. “Show some fucking respect.” A tone orchestrated of octaves reserved for Ghost. 
You had come down with the crash of ceramics, fully aware that Simon was in knowing of your presence by the way his grip had rid, stepping back with hands to his head. “What the fuck is going on?” You scowled at your husband who was already lighting a cigarette. 
After a short inhale, “He’s enlisting.” The smoke tumbled from his lip that turned upward to accommodate a low but amused chuckle. “He’s enlisting, lovie. Our boy.” The cigarette was then pointed to the teenager. “He’s enlisting so he can run around with a fucking rifle, kill one or two people because it's what? It’s a laugh is it? A fucking game?” Though the words were intensely directed to you, waving the smoke around before taking another inhale and shaking his head. 
“It’s not that serious, fucking-”
The words were cut off by a harsh slap of the counter and a rumble of a scold. “Not that serious?” It could only have woken the whole house and Simon ditched the cigarette to lift his shirt up, various scars and burn marks stretched across his front and back. “What's this? Eh?”
“Calm down.” You warned, or at least attempted to. 
“Calm down? He’s going to get himself fucking killed.” A bite, one without intention of ceasing. 
“You’re not dead.” The kid provided.
“I died years ago, son.” His eyes were naturally narrowed in their frustration, slow on the look-up, and shoulders tense through chest heaving. Up and down, and up and down.
The kid mirrored his fathers’ lost expressions.
“Right.” You then interrupted, placing delicate hands on the shoulders of your boy to steer him out of the room, letter still in his hands. 
“Coddle him. Tell him he’ll be fine,” The smoke from the cigarette danced around his hand, lifted back upward for a long, slow inhale, eyes burnt to your back. “That the world is a safe place and he won’t get hurt.” His voice had lowered.
But there was a mutual understanding of the lie, that nothing was fine and he wasn’t going to come out unscathed. Mentally, if not physically. 
It had bled into an argument between the two of you after, pointed fingers of accusation and bursts of tears had split from your eyes. His frustration turned into ready anger, then dismissal, refusing to believe the reality. 
“What’s your fucking issue?” Was the question you had barked once downstairs, four words that seemed obvious in their asking though Simon still quirked a brow. “There’s no need. No fucking need at all for that.” 
He shook his head, looking down at you over his cigarette while you swept up smashed ceramics. “Don’t act like you don’t know.” His voice low, cigarette mumbling the words with an inhale. 
You dropped arms to your sides, pointedly tapping the foot of the brush against the floor. “Like I don’t know what?” The accompanied scowl was one Simon’s eyes darted back and forth from, looking away out the window before tipping his cigarette. “It’s something he wants.”
“He’s going to get himself killed.”
“Ever the fucking pessimist.” 
“Once he leaves,” The cigarette was acting as punctuation, pointed toward the door in far gesture. “He’s out.” Tone unnervingly quiet. One that warned any other argument off, though not yours. 
“Do me a favour, yeah?” You continued to sweep the ceramics. “Realise this isn’t about you.” Looking up at the way he had shifted in his stance, arm now crossed over his chest to tuck under his opposing armpit. 
“Fuck—“ He laughed. “It’s not about me.”
“You just kick off immediately.” 
“Hardly.”
“The fucking state of the floor, Simon.” You scorned, raising your voice to take his attention from the mindless cigarette smoking. “He’s your son. Treat him like it.” 
“When he learns respect-”
“He doesn’t respect you for that fucking attitude. It’s a battle, let it go.”
His eyes met yours to stand down, ditching the cigarette before nodding absently. His silence was telling of an awful mood, one he would carry for the next few days if uninterrupted. 
Tension grew thicker than a rope knot dramatically fast in the Riley household, and whether granted or not, there was only the one man to blame. Walking on eggshells whenever he would come home from a bad deployment was only fit to last so long, and you couldn’t change him. 
But he didn’t want to change himself either.
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≔ unedited, and the tags probably won’t work. this is all i got and i’ll slam my fist on an ikea desk, this. is. all. i. got.
simon 'ghost' riley taglist: @vamppxncess @crowbird @tallrock35 @fluffmonster @islanderr @blueoorchid @lea3773 @coldflapjack @rayhawk05 @han11dh @melovetitties @fallonx @rvjaa @fuckmelifesucks @bhayatsara @local-spidey @konigsblog @penutjuice @babychoi03 @sheluvzeren @sparklingtragedy @maviee @wiserebelpartypie @daddylorianisastateofmind @bhayatsara @writingmysanity @johfaam0 @idkbbyx3 @gressseyy @shibble @maladaptivedaydreamingbum @hotgirlsshareaccounts @simpxinnie @cliosunshine @bloobewy @lazybutsmexy @iluvoaldmen @yyiikes @tieflingteatime @cosmoscoffee @lilvampirina @cinnabeanz @spencerreidisbae123 @paperbag-prncss @cookiecutta @sluttyforsimon @loveangelic @friendly-neighborhood-lich-queen @hayleybarnesx
@bunthebunny23
song of the day (time of writing)
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kyph3r · 4 days
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BOYFRIEND JUNGKOOK HCS ♡
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pairing: bf!jungkook x fem!reader
genre: established relationship, fluff, smut
AN: long time no see!! ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა second round of the hc series, yoongi or jin are next !!
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SFW HCS-
• like a big puppy when you first start dating, a lot of play fighting
• i feel like he would try to make his confession to you perfect, he gets you flowers and chocolates and has a big speech planned but ends up getting nervous and says something completely different than planned, but it still works!
• wants to hang out with you all the time, he will crash hangouts with your friends to spend time with you (which is sweet but also annoying)
• kisses you like you'll never see each other again it's the most dramatic thing in the world
• "jungkook, i'll only be gone for 30 minutes!" "ah, just one more i'm gonna miss you so much."
• definitely the type to get jealous, very obviously jealous, most of the time the person stealing your attention gets scared of him staring them down and backs off
• but sometimes his stare goes unnoticed and he will simply just walk over and lead you away from them
• sends videos and pictures of bam being cute with the caption “look at our son 🥺”
• a big huge humongous flirt, loves seeing you blush, but sometimes you will say something flirty to him and he'll be stuttering with a bright red face for the rest of the conversation
• would mainly call you baby but every once in awhile he would call you something really corny like sugar plum or apple of my eye to make you embarrassed
• writes you little notes whenever you go out somewhere, sometimes draws little pictures of you guys holding hands or playing with bam and puts it somewhere he knows you'll see
• he's just so boyfriend like idk how else to describe it, he'll get you whatever you want whenever you want, always treating you so well
NSFW HCS-
• when you guys first start having sex, he is very cautious with how he handles you
• once you guys are more comfortable though, he gets a lot rougher with you
• i feel like he's a switch but leans more towards being on top, can easily switch up in the middle of sex
• will not hesitate to slut himself out for your attention, you'll be trying to work on something in peace and he'll come in shirtless with the excuse that "it's too hot"
• isn't a very kinky guy but would be into using toys during sex
• obsessed with making you squirt. like that is his number one goal when fucking you
• the type to manhandle you into a position and hold you down with strong arms, also really likes when you get overstimulated and try squirm out of his manhandling and he just easily overpowers you
• loves showing you his strength, he'll take any chance he gets to pick you up and fuck you against something
• the times when he'll get a bit subby is when you'll ride him, which is something he loves way too much
• seeing you on top of him using him for pleasure just makes him crazy hard
• i feel like he would be the type to really enjoy dry humping, especially first thing in the morning when you're still sleepy
• gets so hard when you dance on him at parties, one minute you're throwing it back on him and the next you're in the bathroom bent over the counter top
• jealous sex is always intense, he'll have you in any position he can think of and make you remind tell him who you belong to (him obv)
• very talkative during sex, always a mix of the sweetest praise and the nastiest dirty talk being whispered in your ear
• aftercare is soothing with him, if he's not too tired he'll give you a massage until you drift off to sleep
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lexsssu · 4 months
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Nature (Neuvillette)
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TAGS: Neuvillette/Dragoness!reader, introspection, fluff, parenthood, whipped!Neuvi, oneshot Ao3 ver.
As Fontaine’s Chief Justice, Neuvillette is all too used to waking up as soon as the first rays of dawn filter through the floor-to-ceiling windows in his bedroom. 
He’s all too used to waking up to an empty bed. 
And for even longer, an empty nest.
Despite being one, if not the last hydro dragon left in Teyvat, he’d never raised hatchlings nor even taken a mate of his own. 
While he could have taken a mortal lover throughout the years, his already suppressed draconic instincts never allowed him even a hint of attraction toward humans. It’s as if what was left of his dragonhood refused to ‘taint’ the dragonsblood that flowed through his veins by taking anything other than a fellow dragon.
After five hundred years of serving as Fontaine’s ludex , he had all but given up ever being able to settle down. 
How could he when his species had all but died off? 
What’s more, the few other survivors were more or less located at the farthest corners of Teyvat.
He must simply content himself with protecting and guiding his people to the best of his ability, especially as he’d reclaimed both his powers and Authority as the Hydro Dragon Sovereign.
If someone told Neuvillette that all his worries were for naught barely a year after he’d become Fontaine’s chief justice and ruler, he’d have thought them mad.
But when the first sight that meets his eyes is your sleeping visage illuminated by the soft morning rays that slid through the tiny gaps in between the curtains, the dragonheart within that had all but given up any hope practically roared to life. He is rendered immobile by your beauty, even as a hint of saliva dripped from your slightly open mouth to reveal a pearly-white fang.
Your own pearlescent scales that decorated the sides of your face and continued below before disappearing below the neckline of your nightgown seemed to shimmer against the light. 
It hits him again that behind closed doors, there is no need for any sort of pretense. Not when you too, were a dragon, a different element for sure, but there is no denying the purity of your blood. He need not hide any part of himself when, for once in his life, there is no need for judgment.
And it is that very same blood that flowed through the veins of your children who chirped from within their large bassinet. 
Your three hatchlings still retained their draconic forms at such an early stage of their life and won’t develop their human forms until they mature into the equivalent of human toddlers.
Like clockwork, Neuvillette rose from the bed and scooped up the three hatchlings who sported a mix of dark blue and silvery-white scales. Dominique, the eldest, was coiled around his right arm, while his second child and only daughter, Odette, draped herself on his neck like an accessory. The youngest, Raphiel, clutched the soft hairs atop his head with his tiny claws and looked around in wonder from such a high vantage point.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Good morning, my dearest. I apologize for interrupting your sleep, but it seems our children are in need of nourishment. If it were only possible for me to provide it for them, I wouldn’t have had to cut your slumber short…”
Your sweet laughter is like a balm to his soul, but it’s the peck you press against the corner of his lips that has his inner dragon roaring at him to get started on another batch of hatchlings and the tips of his ears burning a bright red.
Neuvillette hugged Raphiel to his chest, letting his son snooze a bit more while you fed Dominique and Odette from your own.
With your own tail curled around his the whole time, the dragon of water allowed a single tear to slip from his eyes.
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ddejavvu · 6 months
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kinda weird request but can i request spencer reid x reader and theyre just really comfortable with each other like one day one of the bau members walks in on spencer flossing r teeth bc shes got parsley inbetween her teeth or something and their like "wtf😦🤨😶" LMAO THANK YOU😘
Perhaps Morgan or JJ would have understood the situation on a more personal level. Morgan frequently tells Savannah that he'd kiss the ground she walks on, and JJ has a husband and two sons; both are accustomed to that gross part of love that involves pimple popping, morning breath, and in Spencer's case, reaching into your mouth.
But it's Emily, Emily no-man-is-good-enough-for-me Prentiss, that finds Spencer wrist-deep in your mouth, floss pinched in his fingers and narrowed eyes set on your molars.
She walks in, and in a cartoonish display of unbridled emotions, her mouth falls into a horrified gape.
A sound escapes her that's strangled and mottled, not scream, not groan, not huff, but perhaps a mixture of all three. Spencer has the good sense to take his hands out of your mouth, and you to close your mouth, but the damage has been done, and you have Emily Prentiss to answer to.
"I had parsley stuck in my teeth," You offer as a feeble explanation, "I couldn't see it, so Spencer was helping me."
"That is the most repulsive thing I've ever seen," She declares, "And- and we just saw severed eyeballs in a jar in some guy's fridge!"
"Well, look on the bright side," You smile sympathetically up at her, "I bet that time you caught us with my hand down his pants doesn't seem so bad now."
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forzarma · 2 months
Text
Memories
Pairing: dad!lewis x wife!reader
author’s note: im a sucker for dad lewis
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As the morning sunlight poured into the kitchen, painting everything in a soft golden hue, you took a moment to relish the peace of the morning. The gentle sounds of breakfast being prepared filled the air, mingling with the comforting aroma of coffee and pancakes.
“Morning, love,” Lewis greeted you with a smile, his eyes bright with affection as he tended to the stove. “Breakfast is almost ready. The kids are already up and about in the living room.”
Taking the cup of coffee he offered, you breathed in its warmth, feeling a sense of gratitude for these simple moments. “Thanks, Lewis,” you murmured, taking a sip. “I’ll go check on them.”
Entering the living room, you were met with a scene straight out of a family movie. Chanel, your daughter, twirled around in your heels, her laughter filling the room, while Cole, your son, built a cushion fort with meticulous care.
“Morning, Mommy!” Chanel greeted you with a wide grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Look at me, I’m a fashion queen!”
You couldn’t help but chuckle at her antics, but you knew you had to set some boundaries. “Chanel, sweetie, those are Mommy’s shoes,” you gently reminded her, trying to balance firmness with love.
With an exaggerated sigh, Chanel kicked off the heels, muttering something about unfair rules under her breath. Joining her brother in the cushion fort, she continued her play with renewed enthusiasm.
Watching your children, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you. Despite the chaos, these moments were what made parenthood so special.
Back in the kitchen, you helped Lewis finish breakfast, enjoying the quiet camaraderie between you. As you set the table, you couldn’t help but smile at the thought of your family gathered together.
Sitting down to eat, conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and the occasional spill. It was these simple moments of togetherness that made everything worthwhile.
After breakfast, as Lewis headed out for his training, you were left alone with the kids. But even in his absence, his presence lingered in the warmth of the house.
When Lewis returned later that evening, tired but happy, you welcomed him with open arms. Together, you shared stories of your day, finding solace in each other’s company.
As night fell, Lewis suggested a movie night, and the kids eagerly agreed. Snuggled together on the couch, you watched as your children laughed and cheered, their joy contagious.
In that moment, surrounded by the people you loved most in the world, you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude. These were the moments that made life worth living, the moments that filled your heart with love and happiness.
As the movie ended and the kids drifted off to bed, you and Lewis lingered on the couch, basking in the quiet of the evening. It was during these stolen moments that you cherished the most, when the world seemed to slow down and it was just the two of you, wrapped up in each other’s arms.
“I love you,” Lewis whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I love you too,” you replied, feeling the weight of those words settle deep within your soul.
Together, you sat in comfortable silence, content in each other’s presence. And as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the beautiful chaos and joy that filled your life, knowing that as long as you had each other, everything would be okay.
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gglitch1dd · 2 months
Text
Angry Dilf Izuku pt2
Husband Midoriya Izuku x Wifey Reader
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Context: It's your birthday and your husband makes it loud and clear that Katsuki isn't welcomed here anymore.
Warning: Fluffy family time, punching, insinuation of mentally or emotionally cheating.
Note: This isn't my best but it was sitting in my drafts so i decided to post it. Cheating Dilf Izuku will be out soon.
“Shh! You’re gonna wake her up!”
“Well, I wouldn’t be so loud if you weren’t about to drop the tray!”
“SHH! Mama will hear!”
“Can we wake her up now?”
“Mama… mama…”
“Okay boys, we’re rolling.”
You felt someone shoving you, trying to shake you awake. To be honest, you had been awake for the past twenty minutes when you heard all the rustling downstairs from your boys making a racket (and no doubt a mess) downstairs. You let out a fake groan as you shuffled to pull the blankets closer to yourself. “Five more minutes, honey.” You let out in fake tiredness.
“You think we should let her sleep in?”
“I mean it is her birthday.”
“I think we should just wake her up!”
“Mama!” You felt a body land on you making you release an ‘oof’. You opened your eyes to see your little four year old. Shoyo had gleaming bright green eyes as he looked down at you with a beautifully happy expression. Out of all your boys, he was the one that looked the most like Izuku. “Happy birthday!!” He cheered with a bright smile.
You couldn’t help but chuckle, as you sat up in bed, moving to give him a hug. You would have thanked him when your eyes widened in surprise. In front of you were all your boys. Toshinori stood with a tray in his hands at your side. Asahi was holding your favourite morning beverage, both him and his eldest brother had flour, oily fingers and aprons on. Hero held a picture as he sat on the bed next to you and finally, your husband stood with a camera facing to you with a warm smile on his face and your youngest son, Koda, strapped to his chest who made happy babbles as he kicked his legs in his little onesie so happy to see you. You couldn’t help but feel tears in your eyes as you looked at your amazing boys.
“Happy birthday mommy!” They all cheered
“Boys…” You let out with a wavering voice. Your mouth wobbled as you tried to stop yourself from crying.
Toshinori chuckled as he moved to pick up his younger brother rather easily off of you as he put the tray of your favourite breakfast down on your lap. “None of that, momma.” Your oldest son spoke with a gentle smile as he put a kiss to your cheek making you smile. “It’s your birthday, you should enjoy it.”
“Yah! We worked super hard on your breakfast!” Asahi pointed out factually as he put his hands on his hips.
Toshinori looked back at his brother with a scrunched up face. The thirteen year old boy looked confused but also deeply offended. “You mean dad and I worked hard on her breakfast.” He corrected with a pointed look.
Asahi gasped. “I was there!”
“Taking up oxygen!”
Hero looked between his brothers. “B-but I made the card!” He tried chipping in. “That’s the best part!”
Both Toshinori and Asahi looked to their brother with shocked expression. “How in All Might’s good name is that better?”
“Yah! You didn’t even colour in the lines!”
“I did!”
“No you didn’t! Look!” Toshinori pointed to a picture of a bear who you were guessing was you. Hero was never really gifted with drawing capabilities but he sure did try. “You didn’t even colour the dress on the bunny right!”
“THAT’S MOM!”
“MOM’S NOT THAT UGLY!”
The room was filled with your boys arguing, your eyes moving to all of them. Shoyo and Koda, your two youngest seemed rather unbothered by it. Your husband however looked a slight bit annoyed which you found amusing. He stopped the recording on his phone before putting it in his pocket.
His eyebrows furrowed slightly as he looked down at your three eldest sons. “Boys.” The tone in his voice was enough to make all three boys close their mouths. Your husband shook his head in disapproval but couldn’t help the amused smile on his face. Izuku motioned to the side. “Go take the laundry downstairs and finish your breakfast.”
“Yes, sir.” Toshinori motioned for his brothers to go and fetch your laundry basket.
You sat with a gentle smile on your face as Izuku walked over to you with a loving look on his face. When you had both decided to have kids and had one of those long lengthy conversations about how you would parent, you had both agreed that he would be the disciplinarian. At first you were worried if your sensitive husband would be able to do it. However, years of being a ProHero and government official had made him rather strict when it came to certain things.
He was an amazing father, and he was often the first one to jump into misfit with the boys but if there was one thing he didn’t tolerate it was disrespect, dishonesty and lack of integrity. It was something he instilled into your boys that they weren’t going to be values that they represented. It was something you found undeniably sexy about him.
Your big man walked over to you, tilting your head up so that you could look up at him. A bright smile was on your face as you looked up at him. He chuckled as he moved his lips over yours. “Happy birthday, my love.” He let out with a low voice, a kiss to your lips. You couldn’t help but giggle against his kiss as you leaned forward against him for more. His hand slid down to wrap around your neck making a shiver rush down your neck. A gentle squeeze that told you that he would have plans for you soon.
“EWWW!” You both separated as you looked to your boys, all having scrunched up faces. Asahi made a fake gagging noise that made you both laugh.
Toshinori looked almost disappointed. “Otousan! While we’re here? That’s disgusting.”
“Hey!” You let out defensively as you squeezed Koda’s little cheeks as he stayed in his place strapped to Izuku’s chest. You let out a chuckle as you took your barely even one year old son away from his father and down to sit next to you. “It’s not disgusting, it’s love.”
“Yah and she’s my wife.” Izuku defended as he put a thumb to his chest proudly. He moved to sit at the edge of the bed, at your side, an arm around you. “And I don’t care if it’s disgusting.” He let out with a petty smile. You rolled your eyes, ignoring the lick your husband placed to your neck.
Another gag from Asahi came as he ran out of the room. “I’m gonna be sick!”
Toshinori shook his head as he led his two other brothers out of the room. “I told you guys! Mom and dad’s room is a trap!” He lectured, closing the door behind him, leaving you alone with Izuku and Koda.
You picked up your little boy who was gripping at your shirt with a whine. “Mama. Mama.” He babbled as he pulled at your shirt trying to access what was hidden underneath.
You couldn’t help but chuckle, but gave him a piece of a banana to distract him before he chomped his way to bruising your breasts. You turned to look at your husband who seemed satisfied with his display. “You are absolutely insatiable.” You let out as you took a bite of your breakfast.
Izuku tilted his head, deep dark green curls tilting to the side as he looked down at you, nothing but love in his eyes as he did so. “I know, I’m so terrible right?” He said with a smirk on his face, clearly not believing a word. “So terrible for wanting to kiss my wife.” His eyes flicked down to your lips. You couldn’t help but giggle as you met him in a gentle peck, trying to move away before he did something that would end up with the both of you not leaving your bedroom for another good ten minutes.
If there was one thing your boys got right it was the fact that Izuku was absolutely disgusting, but to you it was in the best way possible. Your husband was insatiable when it came to you and absolutely obsessed. The five boys being a testament to that. He always had a hand on you, or his lips on you, or his tongue in you. Whatever came first.
But no one could blame him, when you treated him so well. Izuku had filled out and was basically double the size he was when her married you. He had thickened out into his dad bod (which you found absolutely delicious) and you couldn’t deny that it looked good on him. It helped with hero work too considering shock absorption.
Unfortunately, it meant you had five hungry boys plus one huge hungry man to feed at all times of the day.
“So what do you have planned for me this year?” You asked him as you ate another spoon of your breakfast, handing Koda another banana as he had promptly finished his piece and was whining for another piece. Koda let out a happy squeal as he got another piece of a fruit he adored.
Izuku chuckled as he moved to pick up his youngest son and put him back against his chest. “A whole lot, but right now, the main one is nothing.” With Koda safely secured, Izuku looked back to you. He placed a large hand to your cheek. “You deserve to rest, my love. You do so much for the boys and I, it’s only fair we let you rest today.”
“But what about the lunch?” You asked as you put your hands to cover Izuku’s large one. Mina had excitedly said she would be coming over with Sero and her kids and you also automatically knew that Katsuki and Eijiro would be coming with their kids too.
Izuku put his hands on his hips as he put a proud look on his face. “We can handle it. The Midoriya boys have everything all under control.” He told you with wave down of his hand.
You lifted a single eyebrow not convinced. You looked down at Koda who seemed equally not convinced in his father as you did. You looked back up at Izuku with a blunt expression. “You called your mother, didn’t you.”
Your husband didn’t answer immediately. “If I were honest… she was already going to come whether or whether not I asked her to.”
“Izuku.”
“Honestly, honey, I think you should be glad I called her. She always makes life easier.” You couldn’t help but laugh at his words as he slowly backed off towards the door. “Don’t worry about it, Y/N. I’ve got this all sorted! You just gotta look pretty by 1pm.” He told you as he marched out of the room with Koda. “Isn’t that right buddy?”
“Dadada.”
“You see! Koda agrees!”
You laughed as you were finally left alone again, sitting in your bed. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself. You felt so unbelievably blessed to be sitting here with all that your family had planned for you. But more than that, you felt blessed to even have your family. You felt so unbelievably lucky.
“Go sprouts!” You heard Mina cheer as the kids were deep in a Just Dance competition amongst themselves. You couldn’t help but chuckle as you both sat beside one another outside by the deck chairs. You leaned back enjoying the relaxation and knowing that your husband didn’t want you to do a single thing. You sat with a simple cider in hand to spoil yourself. Mina chuckled as she turned to look at you. “So…” She let out as she wiggled her eyebrows. “Considering Hanta and I are taking Shoyo and Asahi, and Toshinori is having a sleepover with the Bakugous and Kirishimas and Mama Midoriya is taking Koda off your hands… what are the plans for the rest of the evening? Izuku’s been tight lipped about it.”
You lowered your sunglasses further down your nose before turning to look at your husband who was clearing up the outside tables. You watched as your larger than life husband laughed alongside Hanta. He wore a button-down shirt, that had the top few buttons open just due to the sheer fact that they physically could not close. You couldn’t help but think about just how big and rough he was now. Large thick hands that made everything smaller than they were.
“I know what I want to do.” You let out lowly as you watched your husband move around grabbing plates and taking them inside, before your eyes drifted down to his ass. “I want to climb that tree.”
Mina let out a loud laugh as she pushed your shoulder, however, you didn’t even get deterred. “Girl! I thought we were being safe. No more broccoli sprouts.”
You turned to look at her as you took a sip of your cider. “Mina, it’s harder than it looks.” You told her truthfully.
“Hey, Y/N.” You turned to see your sweet mother-in-law, Inko, shuffle over to you, holding Shoyo in her arms who was babbling off about a story about who knows what. “There’s someone at the door for you.” She told you.
You smiled as you stood up. “Thanks, Okaasan. I’ll get it, don’t worry.” You told her, placing a kiss to her cheek before moving to go answer the door. You walked past Toshinori and Hina Sero who were both deep in a dance to care about whoever was at the door. You chuckled as you moved into the entrance hallway and opened the door.
Standing outside your door was a family of four. Two children, around the same age as your eldest son stood there with bright smiles. Kane and Satomi stood with boxes in hand, gifts addressed to you. “Happy birthday Aunty Y/N!” They wished with bright smiles.
You let out an awe as you moved to hug them. “Awww thank you two!” You let out gratefully. “I’m so glad to see you.”
“Well of course we would come.” Kane let out with a shrug, his crimson eyes, so much like his father looked up at you. He folded his arms as he looked away from you with a soft blush on his face. He huffed. “You’re like a mother to us so of course we’d come to say happy birthday.” He spoke.
Satomi nodded her head as she looked up at you with bright ruby eyes. “Yes! We hope you like the gifts.”
You smiled dearly at the two children. With only their dads, they never really did have a maternal figure other than you. You tried your best to step into that role not only as their best friend’s mom but also just trying to be a decent human being. You crouched in front of them and hugged them both. “Thank you so much. It means a lot to me.” You spoke sincerely as you placed a kiss to each of their heads. “How about you go tell Toshinori that you’re here to pick him up, and you can leave the gifts down in the kitchen.” You motioned into the house, allowing the two of them to sprint in.
You stood back up straight to face their fathers. You smiled as you faced Kirishima and Bakugou. “Katsuki, Eijiro, It’s so good to see you two. Thank you so much for taking Toshinori for the night.” You let out truly grateful.
First to speak was your ex, Bakugou Katsuki. He let out a low laugh, the blond moving to pull you into a tight hug. “It’s high time we repay all your babysitting hours. Happy birthday, Y/N.” He let out lowly in your ear again. You moved back out of his arms, but he kept his hands on you.
“Katsuki is right, Happy birthday Y/N.” Kirishima wished sincerely as he stood behind Bakugou in everything.
“Thank you.” You stated as you tried to step back out of Bakugou’s linger touch, however it was quickly rectified as a large hand pulled you back into his front as he stood in the doorway. You turned to look up to see your husband with a tense smile. His hand resting on your shoulder. His hold on you was clearly possessive but also cautionary.
Bakugou’s crimson eyes, filled with mischief and amusement flicked up to Izuku. He let out a scoff as he tilted his head to the side. “Deku.” He put his hands in his pockets, staying silent.
“Kacchan.” Izuku let out stiffly. He hummed as he gave your hand a squeeze. You knew what that meant and put a hand over his own, trying to calm him down. Over the past few weeks, Izuku had been able to promptly avoid Katsuki and everything he had to say about you, however, it seemed like today would be the day where he would address the elephant in the room. He motioned for you to head back inside but kept looking to Bakugou. “Honey, go fetch Toshinori.”
You looked up at him wordlessly, but at the look on his face you knew that he needed your support on this. You nodded your head but before you could leave, you heard Katsuki let out a scoff.
The blond man folded his arms as he looked over at you. He motioned to your husband with a finger but looked at you amusedly. “You gonna let him boss you around, sugar?” He asked.
You furrowed your eyebrows, not sure as to what Katsuki was trying to do here. “I trust my husband, Katsuki.” You stood your ground as you moved in closer to Izuku’s side.
His jaw tensed at your words. Kirishima took a step forward, confused as to what was going on but put a hand to Bakugou’s shoulder. “Katsuki, drop it.” He told him gently. “It’s Y/N’s birthday, there’s no need to be so hostile.”
Bakugou shrugged off Kirishima’s arm as he let out a huff. His redheaded husband looked surprised at the action, his face forming into hurt as he watched Bakugou. The blond rolled his eyes as he moved to head inside. “I’ll go get the kids.”
However, stopping him in his tracks was Izuku. He stepped to the side, folding his arms as he did so, blocking the entire doorway. Bakugou looked at him surprised with wide eyes as he looked up at the green haired man in front of him. Izuku had made sure that you were behind him at all times, making sure that you wouldn’t be caught in the middle of the both of us.
“Kacchan, I think it’s best you don’t enter my house… ever.” He stated firmly.
Bakugou scoffed as he tilted his head. “And why the fuck not.”
“I don’t appreciate how you look or talk about my wife and until you sort that out, I don’t want you anywhere near her or my kids.” He specified.
It was Kirishima’s turn to look confused as he looked over at Bakugou. His eyebrows furrowed as he rested his hands out of his pockets. Despite being one of the biggest men you knew, Kirishima had been looking awfully small nowadays. “Katsuki…” He let out softly and unsurely. “What is Midoriya talking about?”
“It doesn’t matter, Eij.” Bakugou dismissed it entirely before turning to look at you. You automatically took a step back. “Y/N, are you really going to-”
“Hey!” Izuku moved so that you were completely out of sight from the blond. “You are not talking to her, you’re talking to me.” He put a thumb to his chest as he took a step forward. “So I want you, back in your car, away from my family.”
Bakugou scowled as he looked up at the green haired man in front of him. Years of letting you be swept off your feet by Midoriya after the two of you broke up, the both of you married faster than Katsuki could even breathe and having five boys. Years of agony of Katsuki watching the girl that he coveted and loved being taken from his grasp. It all felt like it was bursting open, especially with such an order.
“Like hell am I staying away.” He let out lowly and stubbornly. “You think your big shit, huh, Deku? You think your so big and tough just cause you’ve got your ring on her finger.”
“Yes.” Izuku stated seriously. “I am her husband, Katsuki. Not you, not anyone else, but me! You’ve got five minutes to step away from my front door, the else I’m not liable to what happens next.” He growled down in anger.
“You threatening me, Deku?”
Izuku stepped forward with a scowl on his face. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Bakugou nodded, turning around to leave, almost resigning to whatever your husband had to say. However, you knew the blond far to well to know that he would never back down from such. Your eyes widened before you could say anything, you watched Bakugou swing at your husband. With a slight flash of light, lighting and static fluttering over your husband’s skin as he dodged it, stepping back. A scowl went to his face as he immediately went to connect a punch to Bakugou’s face.
You gasped as you stepped back, although not entirely surprised they were fighting. It was going to happen sooner or later regardless.
“Midoriya!” Kirishima shouted as he hardened his arms and just barely managed to pull your husband off of Bakugou. Bakugou leaned against the Jeep they had come in, wiping blood from his nose as he sneered at Izuku.
Izuku let out a huff. He pointed a finger at the blond. “I don’t want to ever see you here again.”
You paused as you turned to see Toshinori. He was holding his backpack straps, Kane and Satomi still being somewhere in your house. He flicked his gaze to you before looking back at the glimpse of outside. He frowned before shrugging off his backpack. He turned around. “Guys, I think we’ll have a sleepover another time! I promise Hina I’d go over to her place.”
You let out a soft sigh in relief that your son was as fast and as perceptive as his father was. No doubt he would have questions but you doubted that they would be answered today.
With all the kids out of your house, you and your husband were cuddled in bed watching a movie play on the screen. You looked up at him, watching as the glow of the TV painted his face as he sat beside you, an arm around you protectively. Izuku turned to look down at you, feeling your eyes on him. “You alright, my love?” He asked lowly.
You smiled up at him as you moved to shuffle and climb ontop of him. His eyes went wide as you straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. You got comfortable on top of him, earning a smirk like grin on his face, sharp canines glinting in the low light as he moved his large arms to rest on your hips. “Ever tell you how much I love you?”
Izuku nodded his head, deeply hypnotised by you already. “Oh yah… I just never get tired of hearing it.”
[Angry Dilf Izuku Pt1]
[Izuku Midoriya Masterlist]
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