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bangaveragewhitewine · 9 months ago

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baby, be my valentine

dad!Steve Harrington x mom!Reader

February, 2000

A snapshot of Saturday morning with the Harrington's. In between toddler-cuddles and sister-squabbles, Steve has a very important question for you ❤️

In the same universe as soft slow, morning glow & hearts are wild creatures

Word Count: 5.3K

Contents: Sickeningly romantic loverboy Steve Harrington comes with his own warning. Heavy flirting and some kisses. Steve refers to you as his wife / Mrs Harrington. Parental domesticity - Steve & Reader have two kids. Valentine's vibes.

Author's Note: After a very frustrating few months, I found some sort of spark to write something and here we are. Easing myself back in gently, with my preferred brand of cosy domesticity and warmth. Proof-read by @specialagentmonkey. Dividers by @saradika-graphics.

Steve Harrington was a romantic.

He was a self-proclaimed hopeless romantic until he met you. After you smiled at him that first night almost ten years ago everything felt possible and full of hope.

Steve was easy to love, despite years of believing that he was not, that he would never be loved by someone in the way he wanted and needed. You were careful with his battered and bruised heart, nursed it back to health with your sweet kisses and gentle hands.

After years together, marriage and a house and children, you could swear on it that Steve had only got more romantic and loving with age. You were sure that he spoke each of the love languages fluently.

Physical touch was doled out in spades; he liked to have you always within reach of him, a hand in your back pocket (and yours in his ideally), gentle fingers brushing back your hair or beneath your chin so he could gaze at your pretty face. The weight of his hand against your hip, squeezing as he passed you by in the kitchen, or your shoulders when he knew you were feeling tired and tense; Steve’s touch gave you butterflies every time.

You never had to de-ice your car on cold mornings or fill the tank with gas. He had mastered the perfect bubble bath, filled deep and topped with fluffy bubbles - Steve knew too when to leave you alone in there with your book and a candle and silence, and when you wanted to rest back against his chest and talk about nothing and everything until your fingers and toes were pruny.

There was never a need to wonder whether he loved you; he told you every day. How beautiful you were, how proud he was of you. You both made sure your daughters knew too, that they were adored, that they were beautiful and smart and good. Steve listened too, remembered the little things you told him and loved seeing your eyes sparkle when he recalled something tiny from weeks ago. He surprised you with flowers and always bought the chips you liked when he was doing the groceries.

You were Steve Harrington’s favourite person and he was yours too. There was plenty of love to give and room in your hearts to spare when your girls came along, Beth and then Ava. Steve had learned a lot from his own Dad, though it took him a few tough years to figure it out. He learned how not to cherish your wife, how to make your kid feel totally worthless in a house full of valuable, breakable things. He promised himself that he would never be his father, do everything his father had failed to do. In a way, that is what made him the good man he was today. You were proud to be Mrs Steve Harrington.

February in Chicago was freezing, but the promise of brighter warmer days kept you going. On the Saturday before the big day, you wake to an empty bed. It was not unusual with Steve, who spent the mornings in the den with the girls and Saturday morning cartoons. Instead of his messy bedhead on the pillow beside yours was a bright red envelope. It took your sleepy brain a few moments to figure it out, but once you did you felt warm all over with butterflies swirling in your belly like a schoolgirl.

The card inside shows Snoopy holding a big red heart. When you open it, in Steve’s neat writing, is a simple question:

Will you be my Valentine? Steve x

You press your smiling face into his pillow, breathing in your husband's musky, lovely scent. An almost overwhelming wave of cuteness aggression crashes over you and you want to squeeze Steve until he wheeze-laughs and says something gorgeously charming like ‘down, girl’ or calls you his strong lady, asks for tickets to the gun show.

Nine Valentine's Days together and he always found a cute way to ask you before the day even arrived. Pre-kids there were flowers delivered to your workplace, a question whispered in between kisses lavished on your neck in the months counting down to your wedding. When Beth was born, he dressed her in a pink babygrow with red hearts and enlisted her cuteness to ask the question. When she got a bit bigger, sentient enough to understand it a little more, he would ask her too. When Ava joined the Harrington Crew, Steve found himself with three Valentines and felt like the luckiest man alive.

You think about the card and present tucked away in your closet to give him on Monday morning, a red envelope with your heart poured out inside that matched the nicely wrapped new Chicago Blackhawks jersey (with two tickets tucked in the collar). You cannot wait to see his face when he opens it.

Thinking about him, Steve’s smile, makes you miss him next to you. It makes you miss the warmth and weight of his arms made stronger from carrying car seats and all of the grocery bags in one go. Beth’s giggly voice travels upstairs, barely breaching the bedroom door but it is enough to make you ache with the need for morning hugs and toddler kisses.

You tiptoe downstairs to the den to find Steve in his comfy throne (his spot on the sofa, the left side near the side table with the lamp and TV remote and his coffee cup gone cold). He is watching the girls watch Bear in the Big Blue House. Ava is mesmerised by it, standing with one little hand on his pyjama pantsed knee and the other clutching a bottle. Beth sits cross-legged a few feet away, a little smile on her face because she loves Bear. Steve is just glad it’s not Barney & Friends - he loathes Barney and his friends.

You take a mental snapshot before Ava’s bat-like hearing makes her head whip around to spot you at the door. Her face melts into a beaming baby-grin (a toddler now, but she’s still got that gorgeous baby fat that you want to bite and nuzzle).

Babbling ‘Mama!’ she bee-lines to you and you wrap her to your chest with equal eagerness.

“Good morning, little one,” you whisper to her cheek, kissing it over and over as her dimples pop. Beth’s arms wind around your legs, head against your hip (she should never be this tall!) and you drop one hand to stroke her bed-head hair. “Hi Betty Bee.”

When you look at Steve he has a soft smile on his lips, everything is okay in the world now that you are here.

It makes your heart skip a beat. You feel just the same, everything is good. The washing machine has been acting up and your back still aches from when you slipped on ice after Christmas. There was a lice outbreak at Steve’s school in January and you both still get the phantom itches and have to check the girl's hair, just in case. But everything is good.

“Morning, handsome.”

“Hi, pretty lady.”

You can see that simmering excitement, barely contained beneath the surface. Did you see the card? Do you still think it’s sweet? Are you going to be his Valentine? You make him feel seventeen and stupid again.

Beth is chatting at breakneck speed and pulling you over to sit on the sofa as Ava’s curious hand wiggles beneath your fluffy robe.

“Mama! Tut-ter!” she says, pointing at the worried blue mouse, “Oh no!”

“Bear said I smell like warm an’ cosy, like a good sleep! I did have a good sleep!” Beth says, tapping your knees with busy fingers.

“Really? Let me smell...” Your Bear-like sniffing sends her into a fit of giggles when your breath tickles her neck, leaning against her Dad’s legs to evade the ticklish feeling.

“Mm, so warm and cosy,” you agree, before giving Ava the same treatment.

Steve feels a little bit like he might die if he does not get a kiss from you soon. Ava’s honey-blonde head blocks his way in for a smooch against your cheek, resting against your shoulder with a sigh too big for a two-year-old.

When Beth is distracted again by the television, you turn your body a little to look at Steve. He’s already looking at you and it feels like the sun is shining on your face, bright gold in the grey chill of the morning.

“Hi.” Your voice is a whisper across the youngest Harrington’s head. “Miss you.”

“Miss you,” Steve says, inching closer to you out of the warm Dad-shaped groove he has made on the sofa. His arm brings you and Ava closer, manoeuvring a kiss to your lips without squishing the little one too much. She complains anyway against your neck and earns herself a kiss from Steve as an apology.

“Kiss ‘gen, Dada!” she insists, and is only placated when her cheek is well and truly smooched. Her laughter tickles your neck until it is damp with baby breath.

He is still wondering whether you saw the card, feels a little silly asking in case you think he is corny or in case it had slipped beneath the duvet after he left.

“Up long?” you ask when she settles again, eyes on the screen. It’s barely after eight-thirty but his coffee is long gone cold.

“Ava woke at seven fifteen-ish, woke up Beth. I might have promised breakfast out if they were quiet and not wake you…” Steve watches your face for a reaction, hoping the lure of waffles and breakfast that you don’t need to do dishes after can win you over to his well-meaning-but-morally-skewed bribery. The creases from the pillow on your cheek make him feel fond and he chances another kiss over Ava’s head, pressed right on the pillow-marks. Her cute scowl is worth it to see your smile.

“I think that’s a great idea. Brains and beauty, huh? I’m a lucky woman, Harrington.”

That makes Steve smile, a shade of coy confidence. “Well, I’m a lucky guy, Harrington.”

There is a fluttering feeling deep in your chest, close to where Ava is stroking the collar of your pyjama shirt, but this is one hundred per cent Steve. Beside you, he basks in his own loved-up feeling, that sense of warmth and calm.

“Lucky us.” You turn and land a quick kiss on the side of his head. “Can we go to Bakehouse?” You are already dreaming of waffles with chocolate chips and strawberries, and crispy hashbrowns and coffee.

“S’a date,” he says, winking.

Ava turns in your lap, her eyes are back on the screen but yours are fixed on Steve, the smile lines around his eyes and the tired crescents beneath them, the stubble on his cheeks.

“I got your card.”

Steve’s heartbeat triples at your coy little smile. “Yeah?”

“Mhm. You’ve got yourself a Valentine, handsome.”

Steve beams brighter than the sun. “Cool. Prepare to get totally loved-on.”

Laughter bubbles from your lips, a giddy feeling vibrating through your bones. “Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. You’re getting so spoiled, baby.” Plain and simple; the sky is blue and the grass is green, and Steve Harrington is a romantic motherfucker.

You cannot stop smiling, cheeks aching as Steve presses one more lingering kiss there. “Okay, Cassanova. I’m ready to be ‘sooo spoiled’.”

He runs a hand through his messy hair, feeling all too pleased with himself.

“You wanna grab a shower before we go?” you ask.

His smile melts into a weak laugh, “Oh, you wound me, babe.” Steve lolls his head the other way to pantomime sniffing himself. “Not bad…”

“I like it when you’re musky.” You really do. You can’t make the most of it anymore, but when he comes back from a run or coaching basketball at the school, there’s something about sweaty pink-cheeked Steve that makes you feel a little bit crazy.

“But,” you continue, “if you go while they’re distracted, you can shower in peace.” Your fingers brush through the crushed baby curls at the back of Ava’s head, tickling the back of her neck until she squirms and cuddles back against you.

Steve softens and rests his head against the couch. “God, I love you.”

“Mm, I know. Love you more, Valentine.” You accept another smiley kiss and pout for one more because you need it.

“Go shower, stink. Bear will call you out if you stay for the next episode.”

You smirk when he rolls his eye at you, murmuring a playful ‘alright, jeezusss’ before squeezing Ava’s foot gently. His knees crack and Steve barely suppresses an all-out Dad Groan when he stands. Pinching your lips together barely contains your laughter, hidden against your toddler’s head when Steve narrows his eyes at you.

He is barely out of the room when you slide into the warm groove left behind, bringing cuddly Ava with you as Beth sings the ‘Goodbye Song’ as a duet with Bear. She joins you on the sofa and wiggles right up under your arm as the credits and advertisements roll.

“Mommy, are we going out for breakfast? Daddy said we might, if we were little angels.” Beth asks, resting her bony chin against your arm to look at you.

“Mmm, you’re always a little angel, Bethie.” You wink at her and watch her glow. “And Ava, my angel baby.”

“So can we?” she pushes, cherubic and smart.

“I think we can, sweetie.”

Beth wiggles with excitement before whispering to Ava, “We did it! Angel-girls!”

The thrill is contagious and Ava is wiggly with excitement. “Yay!”

They make you dissolve into a puddle of sugar with how sweet they are. You pull yourself together and crystallise back into Mom.

“Are you going to help me decorate for Valentine's later? We can do some crafts, hang up some bunting...” You watch Beth’s eyes go wide.

“Yes! I love Vanentimes!” she insists. “Miss Janine says, she says we making cards! On Monday. Van-en-time cards!”

With wide-eyed Mom-enthusiasm, you match her smile. “That’s so fun. Who are you going to give your card to? Do you know who you want to ask to be your Valentine?”

Beth considers it as you brush her hair away from her face. “Ummm. Maybeeee… Daddy!” Her smile shows off her perfectly milk-white baby teeth

Heart warmed, you stroke her soft cheek. “I think Daddy would be over the moon if you asked him to be your Valentine, babe.”

“I’ll ask Daddy, and Ava will ask you!” she decides.

Ava backs her up, “Yah, Mama!”

Beth giggles and tucks herself against you to watch the screen again. You don’t miss how she whisper-sings along to the theme song and looks up at you to make sure you’re watching too.

The need for coffee is pushed way back in favour of soaking up the quality time with your girls, how cuddly they are with you on this cold February morning. It’s cosy and perfect until it’s not, but those ten minutes were pretty great. Beth wants her turn sitting on your lap and Ava is absolutely not having it. It’s nice to be the centre of attention, but not when the two warring parties are tearful and are still learning how to process their emotions and words.

“Beth, please don’t push your sister. That’s really not kind,” you say. The smile-ache feels long gone and instead, that line between your brows feels deeper than the Grand Canyon.

“Ava hitted me! I did’in push her!” Her voice wobbles dangerously as she insists that she was pushing her sister's hand away. “I- I- wanna sit o-on you, Mommy!”

Ava is all out crying against your chest and your soothing circling back rub is doing nothing to comfort her upset.

There’s a particular heartache you feel when they both need your attention. It tugs hard that knot of anxiety in your chest; tears you can fix but you can’t figure out how to fix it fast enough. You want to gather them both into your lap at once and hold them both, but their pushing hands and kicking feet aimed at each other (sister-enemy #1) do you no favours.

You carefully lift Ava and place her down in your seat, keeping enough distance between them in case of any rogue pinching fingers. You kneel in front of the sofa, knees cushioned by the rug. “Listen to Mommy, please. Let’s take one big deep breath in, okay? All of us. Hold my hands.”

Their little hands slip into yours, both copying you to take deep shuddering breaths. It works better with Beth because she is older, a little wiser, she knows the drill. But Ava sniffles her way through it like a trooper, doing her best.

“Now we blow out the air.” Your big breath tickles their faces and makes the wispy hair around their faces fly, pulling tiny scrunch-nosed smiles onto their faces.

“Good. One more big big big breath.” Your thumb rubs tiny circles on their hands as you help them (and yourself) settle the big feelings. “You girls just got a bit frustrated, that’s okay. I love having you both sitting with me, it’s my favourite thing ever. But we have to be gentle and careful with each other.”

Sweet kisses are pressed to their hands in turn. “There’s plenty of Mommy to go around, no need to fight over me. I love you both so much.” You open your arms to gather them up, a few final tears soaked up by your robe.

Beth’s adjustment to Big Sister after two years of being the sole focus of your attention had gone mostly okay, but as Ava got bigger you could see the moments when she struggled with it all. You and Steve always made sure she got quality time with each of you, but it was still tricky at times.

“Are we all okay now?” you ask, watching them nod tentatively, “It’s okay if we’re not, we can take more deep breaths...” Neither girl lets go but you manage to move your head back to look at their pretty faces.

Ava rubs at her cheek and rests her head on you with another big sigh. “Oh-kay, Mama.”

“I’m okay, Mommy,” Beth promises.

You kiss their cheeks and tap your fingers on their backs. “If you’re okay, Mommy is okay too.” Neither really want to let go of you and that’s okay.

“Let’s go get dressed and we can start our day. Daddy’s going to bring us for breakfast. That’s going to be so nice, huh?” you suggest, hoping to distract and cheer them up. “I want waffles and some yummy strawberries.”

Steve’s voice at the door makes you startle.

“Good choice, Mama.” He has a small frown between his brows, a towel around his bare shoulders with his jeans already on. His hair is combed-through and damp, and his gold chain glints around his neck and collarbones. You don’t let yourself look at the happy trail disappearing beyond his waistband, though it is tempting.

“We okay?” he checks, looking at you. He brings with him an energy that makes the tense room feel light again. It is something you can’t quite name but it feels like everything will be okay again.

“We’re okay. Just a sister squabble. We took some breaths, didn’t we?”

Steve had introduced that trick - his school councillor certification came in handy at home too. You could simply not do this without him.

“Yeah, we okay now.” Beth hugs Ava, a little for show but mainly because she loves her. “Sorry Ava. I did’in mean to push you, I jus’ wanted to sit with Mommy too.”

Ava is too little to get it but she likes hugs and she loves Beth so she baby-hugs her right back.

“I get it. I like sitting with Mommy as well,” Steve says, hands on his hips. “So are you three going to get this show on the road or am I going for breakfast all by myself?”

You try to hide your smile in your robe but he knows that the Dad-routine really does it for you. “You going to ask us if we’re ‘ready to rock and roll’ next, Stevie?”

“Maybe, guess you’ll have to wait and see.” Steve winks at you as the girls hop off the sofa and make their way towards him. “You need a diaper change, and you need a hairbrush.” His finger points at Ava, then Beth as they hold hands now.

“And you.” You are next. “Need a kiss.”

Beth laughs when you fake-swoon and Ava squeals in delight at your silliness.

“How romantic. Come sweep me off my feet, I think I’m stuck.” You could haul yourself up from the floor but Steve’s warm hands do a much better job of helping you up. He sneaks an ass-grab while delivering the kiss you need so badly. With giggly kids present, you can only let it linger for a few moments but it is enough for now.

“My hero.” He earns himself one more peck before you pat his behind toward the stairs, the girls already waiting by the stair gate like the little angels they are. You spare him from your chilly fingers on his bare back as you follow them up - he always finds a way to get you back for that.

Steve scoops Ava up to change her diaper and dress her in something warm for the day and you shepherd Beth to pick an outfit. You can hear him wrangling her to lie down on her changing mat as you make Beth’s bed and pick up the fallen teddies from the floor.

“What are we thinking, babe? Maybe your pink cords and a sweater? Or…?” you suggest, turning to see her looking at her own reflection in the mirror on her wardrobe door.

Your arms wrap around her as she leans back into your legs, sharing a cheesy smile in the mirror. “You’re so pretty, Betty.”

“I look like you!” she beams, tilting her head back to look at you. The angle can’t be any good, she’s seeing the worst angle of your chin and right up your nose, but to Beth you are beautiful. “Daddy says I’m mini-Mommy, coz our nose and smile is the same!”

You cannot deny that Beth is more you than Steve in looks but she is bless with a beauty mark or two like his, you think they make her extra gorgeous.

“Let’s see?” For a few moments, you smile and pull faces with each other in the mirror before agreeing she is definitely all you. It’s quiet(er) down the hall, meaning Ava has stopped evading Steve and the clean diaper.

The pink cords are set aside for preschool on Monday and you dress Beth in a long-sleeve striped turtle-neck top and dungarees to keep the warmth in. She agrees to a woolly cardigan over-top and her snow boots, but only if her hair is half up with her butterfly clips - it’s a fair deal and she looks adorable. Her fifth birthday looms a few months away and you can already feel your heart aching in the best way.

“Beth Harrington, you are so gorgeous,” you say as she swishes her arms and bounces happily in front of the mirror again. She has his sparkle in her eyes that is so Steve, it hits you right in the chest. “Will you help me pick out my clothes, please? You’re a fashion expert.”

Nodding eagerly, Beth runs at you for a hug as tight as her little arms can manage. “Yep! We could match, Mommy! Please?!”

When she looks at you like that, with huge brown Bambi-eyes like her Dad, it’s hard to say no. Not that you want to.

“I’d love that.” You stand from her bed and feel her little hand slip into yours as you make your way down the hall to your bedroom.

It smells like Steve after his shower, warm and fresh with a hint of something spicy. He has made the bed and your Valentine's card is pride of place next to a photo of the girls on your bedside table. Beth zeroes in on it as you pick out some underwear and switch the bathroom fan off.

“Mommy, a card! Look!” she gasps.

“It’s from Daddy, he asked me to be his Valentine.”

You watch her eyes go wide before her face splits into a smile. “Daddy looooves you!”

“He does. And I loooooove him.” You wiggle your shoulders for emphasis, pulling more delighted laughter from your eldest.

While she strokes the sparkly heart on the card in awe, you pull on your jeans and pick out some top and cardigan options for Beth to choose from. You forgo the butterfly clips, but once you are dressed, you and your Mini-Me match quite nicely.

“Woah. Too much beauty in this room, I gotta leave,” Steve says when he joins you, pretending to shield his eyes.

Ava runs past you and climbs on the bed with Beth, a tornado in cosy pink and lilac leggings and a matching fleecy top. Her hair is in pigtails and you swear she ran right out of a JCPenney catalogue.

Steve is still in just his jeans, his hair mostly dry now after taking on Ava’s morning routine which primarily consists of her evading capture until she is limp with laughter.

With the girls minorly distracted, you take the chance to give Steve that appreciative once over. His tummy has this beautiful pudge that you want to press your face against and bite. He filled out a little more over the years, much to his initial disdain, though he did not care so much when he realised just how much you loved those softer edges.

Steve watches you do it, feels the warmth of your gaze roll over his body. You could surely be the death of him, making him boil over or implode with desire.

“Hey, handsome. Are you going to get this show on the road or are we going to have to do this breakfast thing all by ourselves?” You feel smug, parroting his words back at him and catching him off-guard.

His tongue presses into his cheek as he shakes his head, smiling down at his own socked feet. “You…” Steve shakes his head again. His hands feel huge on your hips when he squeezes past you, closer than he needs to be but still not close enough.

There’s a heat in his stare as he pulls a navy Henley on, then a sweater. He dials it down quickly when Beth remembers out loud the time when she saw Uncle Dusty’s cat throw up a hairball last summer.

You try not to laugh at her totally out-of-the-blue memory but nod along anyway, remind her how gross it was. “Good remembering, Betty.”

“Meee-ow!” Ava chirps next to her, proud of herself when she makes everyone laugh. “Cat!”

Steve cups her little face. “You’re a funny bunny, Ava.” He squishes her cheeks and rests a kiss on her forehead before giving Beth the same attention. “And you! Best remember-er in this house, huh? I had forgotten all about that.”

He had actively tried to forget it. It ruled out ever getting a cat, especially when Ava tried to touch said hairball. The memory makes him shudder.

Once everyone has brushed their teeth and used the bathroom, you bundle everyone up in coats and hats and gloves and pack into the car. It’s freezing cold but a morning out of the house is what you all need. A morning with no breakfast to make or dishes to wash is worth braving the cold for.

You feel toasty enough with your three favourite people, and Steve could swear that your hand on his thigh as he drives is all he needs to keep him warm.

“You look extra gorgeous today,” he says when you stop at a red light, the girls happily distracted in the backseat.

“Laying it on thick today.” Steve is easy to tease. “I already said I’d be your Valentine, Stevie. Consider me buttered up.” You squeeze his leg through the denim to lock in your promise.

“I’m being serious,” he insists. “Besides, I know you’re all loved up with me. You want to kiss me sooo bad.” His voice is like a song as he returns your teasing.

“Oh, I do. I even wrote your name in a heart in my diary.”

“Cute.” His teeth shine when he grins, glancing over at you before starting to drive again. “You want to go on a date with me? Dinner and some drinks. How ‘bout it. I’ll be real good to you, baby. Have you home by ten…”

Your laugh echoes around the car, cutting over the car radio quietly playing the Backstreet Boys and Lauryn Hill.

“What’s funny? Did Daddy make a joke?” Beth asks, wanting to be in on it immediately. “Tell me!”

She is quick, but Steve matches her. “What do you call a cat with a lemon in its mouth?”

You don’t know where he pulls them from, it’s probably deep in the Dad Manual, but it keeps the older girl thinking for a moment.

“Um… Lemony?”

He catches her eye in the rearview. “A sour puss.”

There’s a beat as she makes sense of it in her head, and you’re already groan-laughing when Beth gets it and joins in. She sets her sister off and Steve feels like King of the Car.

“Thanks guys, I’m here all week.”

Beth is tickled-pink and repeats the joke again for Ava who doesn’t get the word play yet but laughs when her sister cracks up again.

“So?” Steve asks you.

“Your jokes suck.”

“You laughed.”

“It was at your expense.”

He winces at that. “You’ve been spending too much time with Robin.”

With a coy smile, you counter, “You can take it, big boy.”

You watch his cheeks flush minutely, just like you knew they would. “And Eddie. Stop that,” he mutters, “Anyway. You never answered my question.”

Steve looks at you expectantly as he waits for a car to reverse out of a space right outside the cafe. If it wasn’t sub-zero you could have walked. Maybe in the spring.

“Ohhh.” Your smile is coy as you remember his pitch for your date. “Okay, Romeo. You can take me out.”

He grins, trying not to look quite so pleased with himself and failing miserably. “Cool. Tonight at eight. Rob’s taking the girls.”

As Steve swings the car into the parking spot, you sit in stunned silence. He switches the engine off and watches you for a moment before concern drips in, second-guessing himself.

“Is that okay…?”

“You… Steve, of course it’s okay!” You unclip your seatbelt to hug him across the gear stick, peppering kisses to his stubbly cheek. “Thank you,” you murmur. You can feel the relieved sigh leave his body as you crush him in a hug.

Steve steals a kiss from your lips. “Don’t thank me. I promised to spoil you.”

He earns himself another kiss with his sweet thoughtfulness as the girls begin to complain a little - Beth because she’s ‘sooooo hungry’ and wants to know why you’re kissing again, and Ava because she is sick of her car seat and simply must be freed from it.

“Alright, alright, we’re getting out now. Hold your horses, ladies,” Steve says, faux exasperation on his face that softens when he looks at your smiling face again.

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” you say, warmed from the inside out with pure adoration.

Even though the girls are getting whingey, and it’s starting to snow again and the cafe looks busy, you could not be happier or more content with life than you are right now. Everything is good.

Steve unclips his seat belt and zips his jacket all the way up. He winks at you before opening the door to start the endeavour of freeing the girls from the back seat with you and making sure they don’t slip on the ice, or wander in front of a car, or get too loud in the cafe.

“Love you more, Mrs Harrington.”

Thank you for reading! Reblogs, likes and comments are absolutely adored and cherished ❤️

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constantinerkives · 1 year ago

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Dance Macabre // Drabble

PAIRING: Yoo Jimin x fem reader

WARNINGS: established relationship, yandere Karina, kidnapping, allusions to violence and unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, and profanity. You and Jimin have children, Chairwoman! Karina, MILF! Karina and OC, Johan Liebert reference because I love that soft-spoken manipulative villain.

A/N: Before I begin the mean girl Aeri one-shot, this prompt has been plaguing me ever since I started re-watching 'Monster' so I had to do something about it because my hyper-fixated mind won’t stop unless it’s done. So to soothe this cursed thought, I’ll write about this and be free to begin orchestrating my next one-shot.

SYNOPSIS: To you, she’s your angel. To her enemies, she is death, and to your children: she is a god.

Your wife is a creature of habit.

You observed this when she started courting you during your college days. To you, she is the epitome of perfection; to those that cross her, she is death.

For your safety, you must update her on your whereabouts. Karina liked knowing that she'll check the time, knowing exactly where you are and what you are doing. Failure to do so and consequences will follow.

You didn't mind your strict schedule. You like sticking to a routine.

Until you didn't, all it took was an argument with an entitled customer who broke your phone in anger and stormed off. And due to a broken phone, you didn't update your wife; she was angry. Karina's fury isn't like a volcano, no. It's silent, cold, and calculating.

When you came home, the first thing you did was to get on your knees and begged for your wife to see reason - it wasn't your fault that your phone broke! But alas, your pleas fell on deaf ears - she wasn't having it.

Karina walks over to you and grabs you by the jaw, forcing you to look up at the older woman whose black, abysmal eyes swim with danger and twisted delight. She caresses your cheek, and your hope shatters as a faux disappointed sigh leaves her pretty lips.

"I still have to punish you, darling." Jimin pecks your lips. "Now run to the bedroom and wait for me, do you understand?"

"Do you understand?" Oh, the cruelty of adulthood.

She fucked you raw and unrelentlessly, even when your throat became raw from screaming, even when your cunt was full of your mixed juices - the woman didn't stop. Not until she was satisfied.

And because of her treatment, you gave birth to her daughter nine months later. Ariadne Yoo, the carbon copy of her mother, is beautiful and sharp, even for a three-year-old. You and Karina cherished her, and it didn't take long for your daughter to ask for a sibling; naturally, you and Karina complied with your daughter's request, which brings you to your second pregnancy: another girl.

Like your first pregnancy with Ariadne, Karina is protective of you and your unborn child. She made sure that she was updated on your whereabouts, even as far as placing a tracking device on all your jewelry.

And it all went smoothly, until-

Pregnancy made you soft and vulnerable. That's why you felt sympathetic toward a group of innocent-looking teens whose car broke down. Motherhood made you want to make sure that this group made it home safely.

It proved to be a stupid move because one minute later, your arms and legs were bound with tape on your mouth while they stuffed you in their supposed broke-down car and threw you into a cold, damp warehouse: a stark contrast to the luxury and comfort that your wife provided for you and your children.

After pulling the 'I'm pregnant' card, they were kind enough to make you sleep on a thin bed. And while they were discussing the desired amount for your ransom, you mull how this happened. Karina studied the map of the city to create a safe route for you to run your errands. Perhaps this is how they found out.

They're smart, but not smart enough as your phone dings in the hands of one of your captors. She sneers and skips toward you as she shows you your wife's message. It read:

You're late.

Blood drains from your face. Your wife knows where you are, but she wants you to explain in front of her before she makes a verdict.

"What's the password?" She asks; you tell her.

She licks her upper teeth as she types on your phone's keyboard.

"Young lady," You tread carefully, "Whatever it is that your gang wants, it's not worth it."

She gives you a dirty look as the group stops talking and turns their attention towards you and one of their members.

One of them scoffs, a man. "Oh, it is." He joins the young lady and drapes his arm around her shoulders. "It's easy money for your wife." He looks at her, a sick smile gracing his thin lips as his beady eyes glow with repulsive greed.

"Shall we make it $30 Million?"

The lady gasps, "Perfect,"

"You can't spend it when you're dead." You tell them. The man's face darkens as he storms towards you and grabs you by the hair, eliciting a yelp from you. "You're in no position to threaten us, bitch."

"Please," You plead, "You have to trust me-"

"Shut that bitch up, please." One of them jeers and the man happily obliges as he slaps your face. The side of your face stings red, and he hits you again.

You're sure that their fate will be worse than death; Karina hates it when you get hurt.

"Shut up, bitch." He growls, and you whimper - your instincts telling you to protect your daughter inside you. But your hands are bound.

He looks over his shoulder, "Send the fucking message. She's starting to bore me." And they walk away from you. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"It's okay," You assured your unborn child. "Mommy's coming to save us."

Karina's hand held her phone with a vice-like grip that she thought it would crack.

Her obsidian-colored eyes glower at the photo of your fearful state with the words: $30 Million typed below your image.

How dare they touch you, her wife, her equal.

Cold wrath surges through her body as she puts down her phone and looks at her computer where it tells her your location. You were outside the city. She estimates that it could roughly be an hour-long drive.

A knock on her door snaps her from her reverie, "What is it?"

The door opens, revealing her secretary. "Chairwoman Yoo, the investors are ready."

The older woman stands gracefully from her seat and fixes the cufflinks of her blazer. "Have Miss Hwang take care of them." Karina's voice is eerily calm as she walks past the younger woman. Her secretary follows after her.

"What are you going to do, Chairwoman Yoo?"

The black-haired beauty looks over her shoulder. "I'm going to fetch my wife."

Pregnancy made you a heavy sleeper because moments later, you were awakened by Karina's soft hand caressing your baby bump while she cradled you.

"Karina," You breathe. Impossible, you would've heard the screams of agony and fear. You crane your neck; your blood runs cold at the sight of their twitching bodies as they gurgle their blood.

"Look at me, beloved." She coaxes, you obey and your eyes subtly widen. Karina's hair is tied in a high ponytail - she was presentable except for the blood splattered all over her suit and some on her face, decorating her cheeks like a demented blush.

But she's beautiful regardless.

"I'm sorry," You choke a sob as you hold onto her. "I tried, baby, I tried to-"

"Sh," She coaxes and pulls you closer to her, coaxing the side of your face against her soft chest as she cups the other side of your head. "It's okay, darling. It isn't your fault."

"They're still alive, though." You whisper against her suit, and her chest rumbles with a dark chuckle.

"I heard that dull blades are agonizingly painful than sharp ones. I will leave them to suffer for touching you and our baby, Y/N."

With her other hand, she slips it under your knees, "Now hold tight," She stands up, "Our daughter's waiting for us at home."

Karina effortlessly carries you to the exit of the warehouse. You take a good look at your dying captors as they lay in the pool of their blood, dull knives jutting from their bodies.

"Do you remember my first letter?" Your wife asks, forcing you to tear your gaze from the gang to answer her.

"Of course," How could you forget? It was poetic.

"I wrote about flowers and your love for them," She reminisces with a soft smile, a rare sight to see; you are blessed to see it.

"And how you love peonies, especially pink ones, am I right, my love?" She looks at you. Her lips still form her rare, warm smile.

"Yes," You sigh as you rest your right hand over her heart.

"When we get home, you'll rest. And tomorrow, we will go to your favorite flower park so you can look at the flowers."

You caught sight of a familiar Lincoln Continental. She opens the passenger door for you, and you allow her to guide you to the passenger seat. Karina lingers near the passenger door as she takes in your disheveled appearance. Your wife heaves a sigh, and takes your hand, her thumb rubbing the back of your palm soothingly.

"Stay with me and Ariadne, Y/N." She comes closer. "I will give you everything. Everything is yours because I said so."

She brings your hand to her mouth, where her lips ghost over your knuckles.

"Stay with us, and I will blanket you in flowers. I was born to smother you with flowers."

#constantinewrites #karina x reader #aespa x reader #female reader #kpop oneshots #kpop imagines #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin #yandere karina #yandere aespa

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mrsparrasblog · 8 months ago

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i don't wanna rush you or anything cuz u should take ur time. Just wanted to let you know that we NEED more Rudy and Alejandro content😭. Rudy is criminally underrated 🥲 like an obsessed Rudy crushing on mc? My heart-

Hey sorry that it took a bit to answer.💓 I love Rudy with all my heart💓 He is so underrated 💓and have many drafts of him, but I never had something where he was like obsessed , but I tried my best if you don't like it Im sorry :(, you didn't say if you wanted smut so I just wrote it without smut. I was half asleep writing this ngl😭

Anyways here 💓☀️🦋

Sweet as Cinnamon

Rodolfo was never one to fall for just a pretty face; he wasn’t shallow; he needed more. He always had that picture of the future Mrs. Parra in his mind. She needed to be soft, cute, romantic, and tolerant of everything. She needed to be a safe space from all the demons in Las Almas which haunted him.

When he turned 35, he almost gave up on his dream, too many failed attempts at dating. There were the ones who dated him to get closer to Alejandro, the ones who couldn’t handle him being a Sergeant Major, and then the ones who were too much involved with the cartel business.

And then one day he met you. He didn’t believe in love at first sight, but it was almost as close. The way you carried yourself, your charisma, the way you laughed, and the way your eyes sparkled, you were perfect for him.

He didn’t want to do anything more than approach you and ask you out on a cute date, but this time he couldn’t fail, not with his lifelong dream. So he made the only rational choice and became your shadow, trying to find out everything about you while constantly nagging Alejandro about how perfect you were.

"You know you could always talk to her," Alejandro suggested, not seeing the bigger picture Rodolfo saw. It needed to be perfect; you needed to want him before he made attempts; it should be natural. So he found out everything about you: the way you liked your coffee, your favorite book (which he bought and read to have something to talk to you about), your favorite film, favorite food, and even your workplace. It wasn’t a surprise for him that a sweet thing like you owned a bakery; everything was freshly baked by you, and it tasted like absolute heaven to him.

When he watched you through the window, he imagined you staying in your kitchen, him wrapping his arms around you while you baked for him and your kids - it would be perfect. And you would never even come across the cartel; you were a delicate flower that needed to be protected and cherished, and who would do the job better than him?

The hard part was getting the men away from you who also wanted you. Of course, he knew you were a sight that would make every man weak in his knees, but you were already his, and the other men needed to understand that.

Some people underestimated him, thinking he was too short and not as muscular as Alejandro, but when the Sergeant Major stood at the poor men's door with a sinister grin and a firearm, telling them to never speak to his wife again, they listened. It made your love life absolutely miserable, but he was a good man; he only did this for you, and you would appreciate it at the end of the day when you finally could sleep in his arms, protected from the whole world.

After a year of preparation, he finally did it. He walked inside your bakery himself; the faint smell of cinnamon and fresh strawberries lingered everywhere; it was perfect. Of course, he knew your baked goods tasted good; Alejandro always brought him some, but he never went in himself. And the perfect girl you were, you were immune to Alejandro's flirting, one problem less.

"Hello, sir, how can I help you today?" you smiled at him, and his world stopped. You were even prettier from this perspective, flour on your face and that sweet little red apron. He wanted to marry you instantly, just carry you away and tie the knot, but he was a patient man, and right now, this was what he needed to be.

"Just some cinnamon rolls," and so it went on for weeks. Rudy became fast your favorite customer; he was always nice to you, funny, and left a good tip, like an extremely generous tip for just some cinnamon rolls. And if you were true to yourself, he was incredibly handsome, making you always blush like a girl with her first crush. Unfortunately, you thought he wasn’t interested in you. You always tried to flirt, but he never flirted back, or maybe he was just too obvious to realize it.

On Valentine's Day, you stayed the whole night away, baking red velvet heart cinnamon rolls just for him, a new creation, plus he would get a little heart on his cappuccino, which you tried to master for weeks.

He couldn’t contain himself when he saw this; he knew you were smitten, how you blushed and interacted around him. God, you were as obsessed as he was, but he needed to wait; he had his perfect plan.

He gave you his number just in case; Las Almas was never safe, and just so he could sleep calmly, knowing you’re safe, he said.

And surprisingly, a few weeks later, after you closed your little bakery, a man followed you on the way home. At first, you thought it was just imagination, but when you walked five times around the block and he was still there, you knew. So you did the only thing your mind comprehended: you called Rudy.

"Rudy, I'm being followed," you sobbed into the speaker while your feet practically ran.

Luckily, Rodolfo was there, shoving the guy away. If only you had known how he thanked his friend Fernando for scaring you a bit - he didn’t like this, but it was necessary. He wasn’t a bad guy; he saw himself as a determined man who would do anything for his future love.

If it were possible, your eyes would have turned into big cartoon hearts; god, he was perfect. Maybe you should try the first step, even if it's embarrassing, maybe he doesn’t like you.

"Thank you, Rudy."

"Don’t mention it, mi corazon." You blushed at this pet name, looking at him with your big doe eyes.

"Rudy, do you maybe want to stay the night to make sure he doesn’t come back?" And how could he say no to this opportunity? Well, he had your words already planned, but it still made something with him.

"Of course."

"Rudy?"

"Mhm?"

"You know, I thought about maybe we could-“ You stopped, feeling incredibly stupid. Rudy was perfect; how could he want someone like you, a normal person? But for him, you were everything but normal; you were perfect the way you were, the missing piece to his life.

"What can we do?"

"You know, get to know each other better," you mumbled beneath your breath, looking at the ground.

His calloused fingers pulled your chin up, forcing you to look into his beautiful eyes as his lips softly fell on yours. It felt like fireworks; if you thought you were kissed before - you weren’t, this was new, exciting, and perfect like in a Disney movie. "Like this, mi corazon?"

"Mhm, I like this way to get to know you."

"You don’t know how long I waited for this," he admitted, looking into your eyes as if you were the only thing keeping him alive; you were everything.

"I waited longer," you admitted, and he thought, if only you had known, how long he wanted you and chased after you, the things he did for you. And the only thing on your mind was if he only would have known how long you looked at him when he was still watching you from outside the bakery.

#cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #call of duty #tf 141 #rodolfo x reader #rodolfo rudy parra x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo cod #los vaqueros #call of duty modern warfare 3 #call of duty modern warfare #tf141

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theyanderespecialist · 3 months ago

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Vox's Doe (Headcanons) Yandere Vox X Female Alastor Reader (Hazbin Hotel)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back with a new chapter! This one is with a Yandere Vox X Female Alastor Reader, where you take the place of Alastor as a female version of his! So Good Luck, please enjoy this chapter!]

(Disclaimer: Vox is Not Yandere In canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuit! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon and canon!)

(This is based on headcanon and some theories I have) -Yandere Headcanons With Vox X Female Alastor Reader From Hazbin Hotel-

.Vox died in the 1950s and he came to hell.

.Before he met Valeinto he met you the Radio Demoness an older woman.

.As you died in 1933.

.He was down bad for you and knew that he wanted you in his life.

.He was still a man who would love you a lot if you were a housewife, but also he loved how independent you were.

.So he is torn on how he should treat you, he respects you as an overlord, but he is still a bit sexist in he would love you to be a homemaker.

.Which causes issues with how he treats you?

.He has a deep love for you and found himself wanting to become a overlord with you.

.He would be the very possessive type which does not fly with you very much.

.He does not like sharing you and sees you as his wife and so that means no other man or woman or person should try and steal you away from him.

.Since you are The Radio Demoness you are a good cook and so you do end up cooking for him a lot.

.Which he adores because he would be eating fast food far too much without you.

.You end up making a lot of pancakes for him as the sweet tooth is strong.

.He would deal with rivals by using his mind control powers to prevent them from being in love with you.

.He abuses this cause he does not want anyone to be able to steal you away from him.

.He is a petty yandere in which he would be super petty with the slightest things that his rivals did for you.

.Even if the person is not a rival he is a bit paranoid that almost anyone and everyone could be a rival and he Is not going to tolerate that.

.He is a bit controlling and cares a lot about image.

.So he tries his best to have his influence on you.

.He wants to marry you and have you as his wife.

.But you keep up a boundary with Vox, and do not want to marry him, this frustrates him behind belief.

.He just wants to marry you and have you as his wife, you are his pretty little darling and you would be such a great wife!

.He almost treats you like a trophy a prize as you to him are such an amazing, powerful, beautiful, woman.

.He is the type of man and yandere that would see you as a prize.

.He does end up dating you back in the day before he met Valentino.

.And he cherished you as his most precious item.

.Of course, he was also a bit controlling, okay that is a lie, he is an extremely controlling yandere.

.In which you could see and what you could do.

.He would want to keep you from other overlords and not want to share you with anyone.

.He would have wooed you by treating you like an equal but once he started to date you he slowly became more controlling and he tried to keep you in typical gender norms.

.In which he once again wanted you to be his wife and the picture-perfect homemaker.

.So this would cause issues between him and as a yandere, he does not understand why

.You two were once a power couple, but Vox had slowly ruined that by being a completely controlling yandere.

.When you break up with him he lashes out at you, saying how could you leave him!? He was the best man for you.

.He takes it very, very personally. .He makes it his mission to make you want him back and make you beg for him.

.He will have you no matter what and will have you begging him to make you a housewife~ .Mark his words.

.When you two were together he had made grand gestures.

.He is the type of yandere that is go big or go home!

.Where he spoils his darling and treats her like the queen that she is.

.Also, he is a super possessive yandere that would kill for you.

.He can be protective of you and would defend you when together.

.But back to his petty side, when you left him he was so petty that he would be the most petty ex.

.Being the type to not let go that you broke up with him! HIM!

.He is still madly and obsessively in love with you and even when he ends up with Valentino he cannot get you out of his mind.

.When you come back after seven years. He is pissed off but also so happy that you are back.

.He is jealous that you are around the princess of hell and knows that he cannot let you get close to her.

.You are his woman and his future wife, he will destroy that damn hotel.

.To make sure that you have no one to go back to.

.Also at this point he will share you with Valentino, but he will be your main husband mark his words.

.Do not get it twisted he will drug you with Velvette and Valentino's love potion.

.Making you see just how good he can make you feel and make you swear your soul to him.

.When he finds out that someone already has your soul it pisses him off beyond belief.

.You are HIS And someone else HAS YOUR SOUL! How Dare They! .You are HIS! BODY MIND AND SOUL! His Sweet, sweet Doe~

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope that you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy! All of My Sexy Muffins!]

#yandere #yandere vox #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere headcanons #headcanon #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #vox #vox x alastor #radiostatic #vox x reader #reader #female reader #female alastor reader #reader is female alastor #female alastor #radiostatic reader

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shinsmarlboro · 4 months ago

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Shinichiro with a lover, who is a successful entrepreneur.

TAGS: SFW, MILD NSFW, gender neutral y/n.

you make more money than him and he is not insecure about it. if anything he's be super proud and shows you off to his friends saying corny stuff like "yep, that's my spouse. to this day, i don't know how i scored such a beaute." with a dreamy expression on his face.

he never takes money from you when he fixes your motorcycle.

“you don't count as a customer.”

it's either you two go back and forth with you wanting to give him money and he refusing, or you end up paying him in other…ways.

he finds it hot when you are able to go from being his wife to turning into a total boss in a minute. you could keep him company at S.S motors, and suddenly you get an important phone call from your company. you briefly explain to him with a serious expression on your face and he's like "uh-huh go do your thing, my love." and goes back to what he is doing while thinking about how hot you look as he fixes a customer's motorcycle.

did i mention that you terrify him? but that is what makes you more alluring.

after an argument he is always the first to apologise, whether you are in the wrong or not.

he is a missionary enthusiast. he just adores staring at you, the intimacy is something he cherishes.

“fuck, you're perfect for me.” he would mumble against your neck, groaning here and there while leaving kisses all over your face and on your upper body.

“you're the only one that gets me like this.” “I love you so much, y/n.” his compliments can range from silly to heart warming.

"where do you think you're going? you don't get to be the one who leaves me, get back here right now. what about those little renovations i made to your shop, huh? i can call the renovators to tear them apart. that isn't a chance you'd want to take now is it? atta boy, now go wear something pretty. we're going out together."

he has definitely cried while having sex with you. you make him orgasm so hard, he can't help it.

you're not exactly a saint when it comes to making sure he stays around. you have dominance over him with your charms and sweet voice that you know he cannot get enough of, if your relationship with him starts to go south for whatever reason.

if he chooses not to comply, you end up stalking him or punishing him when he returns until he's practically all up on you like an affectionate kitten, making it clear you have him wrapped around your little finger yet again.

you've got a few screws loose but that's okay. he loves you too much to let go, even if you play with his heart strings he'll come crawling back, making excuses for your sake, just like his mother did when it came to his father.

#tokyo revengers hcs #tokrev x reader #tokyo revengers shinichiro #shinichiro x reader #shinichiro smut #shinichiro headcanons #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers sub #tokyo revengers x reader

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dreamsthatdream · 2 months ago

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What’s the best thing about having a trad wife? Coming from a woman who doesn’t get the appeal… sell it to me 🫣

Ooh, I can rant about this for a while! :D

Traditional relationships are firstly founded on stability and commitment. They're not something temporary, they're not something that can be easily thrown away on a whim. This makes it a lot easier to build up a strong, lasting relationship and a good environment to raise children in.

I also think such a relationship is the more natural state of things that we are better suited for. Two people with different skill sets and abilities completing each other instead of competing with each other. Man and woman working together, in their own way, for the betterment of themselves, the other, and their children.

As for specifically having a tradwife from my perspective, it goes thus:

I get to be a protector and a provider. This is not a role that's just given, one has to earn it. And when someday I'm strong enough to be all those things and earn a woman's trust so she may marry me, and submit to me, well... that'd be simply wonderful! I'd feel like I've achieved something great! It's caveman brain - I bring food, shelter, security, my woman brings warmth, cooked food, bears children, makes the house a home, etc.

(For the submission thing, I'd like to briefly say that I think both parties need to submit to the other in their own way for a relationship to be successful. In the interest of this not being a novel, I'll leave it for another time.)

The other big thing is children. I want a lot of children one day, and the logistics of having that and both parents working is not good, to say the least. Especially when you want to raise them well. So, a wife at home to be with them when I'm out is perfect! Of course, the ideal would be both of us being at home, but that's a little difficult to achieve.

The home itself would be better run when there's someone there at the regular. It's not going to be just the place we all gather at the end of the day to sleep in, but it'll be a proper home.

To summarise: protecting, providing, being strong for someone is one of my primary love languages. I think traditional relationships last better, and that they make for a better environment to raise children in.

To explicitly sell it to you - if you find yourself a proper man for the job and he wifes you up, you'll be taken care of, loved, cherished, and appreciated. You'll of course need to give back all those things, that's love. Just because he's the employed one doesn't mean you're not working. But you'll be more fulfilled since you're not working for some corporate overlord who couldn't give half a stomped shit about you - all your efforts will be in service to people you love and care about, your family.

I can write three times as much about all this, but I think this is enough for now, it got pretty long as it is 😅

#wholesome trad #traditional masculinity #traditional femininity #traditional gender roles #trad wives #tradfem #traditionalism #tradwife #relationship goals #relationship

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can-of-w0rmz · 1 year ago

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One of the things that piss me off the absolute most about popular academic Frankenstein analysis is the “Victor Frankenstein is sexist” take. Like I know I’ve spoken about this quite a lot before but god damn it’s like people just look at the text and see, “(I) looked upon Elizabeth as mine—mine to protect, love, and cherish. All praises bestowed on her I received as made to a possession of my own.”, and they just immediately go, “Oh! Oh! Sexism! Misogyny! Victor Frankenstein is a sexist! Why does he want to create the perfect man, huh? *gasp* is it because he thinks women are inferior?”

When if those people pulled their heads out of their asses for five minutes and read the rest of that paragraph, “On the evening previous to her being brought to my home, my mother had said playfully, “I have a pretty present for my Victor—tomorrow he shall have it.” And when, on the morrow, she presented Elizabeth to me as her promised gift, I, with childish seriousness, interpreted her words literally and looked upon Elizabeth as mine (…)” along with the fact that Victor explicitly says he was “about five years old”, they’d maybe consider, “huh, maybe it’s very fucked up of a mother to give her to her son as a gift and spent her entire life basically shipping these two adopted siblings together until, on her death bed, she says, “my firmest hopes of future happiness were placed on the prospect of your union. This expectation will now be the consolation of your father.” Wow, maybe that’s kind of fucked up. Maybe painting, again, a five year old, who was honesty for all intents and purposes pretty much just manipulated into thinking it was his duty to marry his adopted sister out of respect for his dead mother’s last wishes who died when he was seventeen, as a wife-beating woman hater who reanimated the dead to spite half the human population, is very very fucked up!”

Like I can’t stress this enough – both Elizabeth and Victor are victims here. Of course as the story goes on a bit and Victor is a grown adult man who’s still avoiding his feelings and fucking off across the continent with his buddy pal best friend every five minutes instead of facing his mistakes and emotions, yeah, he is honestly more or less to blame for Elizabeth’s death, but that isn’t misogyny. Avoidance of everything is like one of his integral character flaws.

And I mean if you thought the 1831 republication had some creepy undertones, look at the bloody original 1818 version.

“(My uncle) request(ed) my father (…) take charge of the infant Elizabeth, the only child of his deceased sister. “It is my wish,” he said, “that you should consider her as your own daughter, and educate her thus.”’

So just explicit incest, basically. And again, if you thought Victor’s mother was a bit creepy and pushy in the republication,

“I have often heard my mother say, that she was at that time the most beautiful child she had ever seen, and shewed signs even then of a gentle and affectionate disposition. These indications, and a desire to bind as closely as possible the ties of domestic love, determined my mother to consider Elizabeth as my future wife; a design which she never found reason to repent.”

“………A desire to bind as closely as possible the ties of domestic love?” My brother in Christ you were groomed. Fun fact, I read the 1818 version first and read that in the middle of form class and sat for a good five minutes staring flabbergasted at what the fuck I was reading.

So no, dear God no, nowhere in the text does it imply Victor Frankenstein hates women. I mean honestly it’s kind of shown in the way he talks about the Creature’s Bride that he doesn’t view women as objects and does, in fact, view them as people.

“He had sworn to quit the neighbourhood of man and hide himself in deserts, but she had not; and she, who in all probability was to become a thinking and reasoning animal, might refuse to comply with a compact made before her creation.”

My guy basically says “well what are we expecting her to do here, immediately marry you just because she was told to?”

(Just a fun little comparison I noticed there – not to turn the conversation back to my whole “does Victor is gay” theory but I think it is interesting that Victor thinks that, that he does go “well she can’t just be expected to marry someone just because she was told to!” and then suggests to himself that she would probably rather “turn with disgust from him to the superior beauty of man” – interesting, Victor. Like Clerval’s “form so divinely wrought, and beaming with beauty”? Interesting as well that after Victor comes to that conclusion and destroys the Bride, the Creature immediately then kills Henry and only then does Victor finally go “well. I finally have to marry Elizabeth.” Feeling disheartened by sparing her your predicament only to be thrust even deeper into your own, are we?)

But yeah. “Victor Frankenstein is a full-blown women-hating misogynist” takes really piss me off. Another case of “oooh yes let’s cherry pick the text scouring it for anything we can possibly use to turn things back around to the same few analysis points we’ll reuse over and over instead of possibly considering that just because a text is written by a woman doesn’t mean that it’s a massive rant on the patriarchy disguised as a science fiction novel.”

Maybe that’s kind of sexist itself. Maybe women can just write kick-ass gothic horror sometimes. And maybe just because a work definitely has undertones about sexism and misogyny (like, fair enough, a lot of Elizabeth’s character definitely does) that doesn’t mean that the male protagonist wants to kill all women! And surprise surprise as well, works can comment on misogyny and patriarchy and acknowledge that women are treated badly in society and have been in differing ways for hundreds of years, without going “all men are inherently evil and fuck them all”. Bit of a side rant that I won’t go all into here, but just worth mentioning that after seeing this over and over again in media and analysis of media over and over again, hey, misandry won’t fix misogyny. It just makes everything considerably stupidly worse. –your friendly neighbourhood bisexual

#gothic lit #classic literature #gothic literature #goth lit #classic lit #frankenstein #frankenstein weekly #frankenstein or the modern prometheus #Victor Frankenstein #Elizabeth Lavenza #Frankenstein analysis #Clervalstein #(kind of)#frankenstein everyday

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silverscreenlipstick · 8 months ago

Text

helluva boss rants #1: stolas

oh to be a depressed gay owl twink in hell.

so i really wanna talk a little bit about stolas for a sec. let me yap.

so, as we know, stolas is the one of the princes of hell and an ars goetia, which is the fourth highest ranking in hell. pretty big deal.

stolas being such is expected to act above all and ruining and cold. excitement is unbecoming of a future goetia.

but the thing about stolas is is that he is the black sheep of his family - he is the black sheep of the entire, i would say, owl-demons.

he gets this ranking and he appreciates it, but he doesn’t exactly want it. he never sees himself as higher or unequal to any lower classes, and never has. he loves blitzø, he’s always bowed to him in appreciation, admiration and uncaring for his own status.

as i’d like to believe; he’s never been taught to bow, only that others bow to him. but i believe he picked up the habit from his servers etc. to bow to him, and stolas being a rather sympathetic and kindhearted being, bows back. he sees it as a mutual understanding.

i will never get why people would express him as selfish. stolas, if not, is the least selfish character in the entire hellaverse. the only selfish thing he’s ever done was sleep with blitz and cheat on his wife because it made him happy and gave him a thrill and taste of the life he wants. and then, he isn’t allowed to have that. you only ever see him happy with blitz (and octavia, but i’ll get into that in a sec) and he can’t have blitz. well, he can, but you know the drill guys.

blitz makes him happy because he brings out a sort of youth in stolas that he craves to have - a normality. that’s why s2e2 is such a natural banter between the two and feels like a true romantic montage.

now, octavia brings out the best in stolas but i would say for a similar reason that blitz does - youthfulness.

while blitz is on the romantic side of it, octavia reminds stolas a lot of himself, i would say.

he’s had her when he was so young, so it’s a natural bond they have that almost seems sibling like, but differs from parent to child. my own mother, who’s had me with 23 and my sister with 18, is a perfect example for this kind of parental love.

there’s that part of having given away your youth to raise one another, but you’re doing it with joy. stolas loves her with all he has left, he’s depressed but he’s trying, for her.

it’s such a dear relationship and he cherishes it with all he has.

i love this bird man. i hope he finds peace and love and for the love of god finally gets a divorce and marries blitz.

#helluva boss #stolas #stolas goetia #stolitz

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jqmalikhsgib · 3 months ago

Text

moonlight

three

eddie holds her close as she lies on his chest. he stares at the ceiling before simply looking at his girlfriend. eddie still couldn’t believe it. yn yln was his girlfriend!

she was by far the prettiest girl in hawkins high. sure, others would say it’s tammy but they’d be wrong. yn was breathtaking to eddie. she might be an angel forreal, he wouldn’t know nor would he care. he was in love.

eddie never expected to find love. after his mother died and his father was sent to jail, eddie was constantly shamed by the whole town of hawkins. the ten year old boy was confused. he was just a boy, a simple little boy who lost his mom and dad in less than three years from each other. he was shunned for the crimes his father committed. people expected him to be nothing but a criminal just like his old man. eddie only did what he could do. he put all his anger into his favorite game, dungeons and dragons! he became an excellent dungeon master. it was his rage that made him good. then his uncle introduced him to the guitar.

eddie became good at playing. he started writing music and finding other kids who were labeled as ‘freaks’ to for a band. they were actually pretty fucking good. unfortunately they listened to that ‘devil worshipping’ music. with how closed minded the fuckers in hawkins were, he was only shunned even more. people started labeling him as a cult leader. and creating a club named ‘hellfire’ where you play a game that’s getting bad press didn’t help his case. but eddie didn’t care. he couldn’t have care less about what these dumb fucks think of him. eddie knew he’d make a name for himself, he knew he’d be successful and prove everyone who ever doubted his abilities wrong.

his mother was the only person that pushed eddie. his mom letting him know he was somebody and the whole world will know his name. and still ‘till this day he believed her. her words always left an impression on him. and then he met her.

god, when he first laid eyes on her, she was mesmerizing. the way the sun shined in her hair, her eyes glowed brightly, her smile lit up his heart. she was fucking perfect. finding out she’d been the daughter of a preacher, knowing how this town looked at him, knowing what her parents might think if they saw him. he knew he had no shot with her. not a single bit. but he was so wrong.

when she approached him he thought she’d been confused at first. ‘no fucking way is she actually talking to me. no one she knows my name. no fucking say man!’ but she did. she knew who eddie had been and she didn’t give a fuck what anyone else thought of him. she thought eddie was beautiful, unique, intriguing, intelligent, funny, and handsome.

eddie still has yet to believe she wanted him just as much as he wanted her. and here he is, six months later dating her. six months of kisses, six months of hand holding, six months of tight hugs, six months of i love you. six whole months since you gave him a chance. he thanked his lucky stars every single second of every single day. he promised he wouldn’t mess this up.

it’s one reason why he hesitated to make love to her. he knew it would be her first time. he didn’t want to hurt her and he knew how much she vowed to stay a virgin until marriage. but then her words made his heart flutter. “‘m not worried ‘bout that eds. i know in my heart you’re my forever. in a way, im giving myself to my husband.” he spent the rest of the night worshipping her body. eddie simply looks at her once more. kissing her forehead gently before whispering in her ear “goodnight, wife.” he truly been lucky.

looking at her now has only made his heart hurt. that night was something he’d cherish forever. it was the moment he knew, or at least thought, he’d marry her.

then he woke up one morning hearing the rumors about her family suddenly moving. he didn’t believe it at first. but when he passed by her house and saw the for sale sign, his heart shattered. he assumed her family found out she’d been dating eddie and took her away. the one thing that made eddie really happy in a long time. eddie wasn’t sure why he assumed something would actually be great for once. he should have known better.

the night she left he was reminded of the last thing his father told him before he got arrested for good. “the munson men are cursed, kid! i should have known your mom being my ticket to happiness was just a sick joke god played on me. we munson men, we’re only good for being a slave for the man, or being criminal, no in between. we don’t get the fairytale happy ending. it’s no princess waiting in the castle for us with a shit ton of doe. we are who we are. if i taught you anything kid, remember that.”

he was absolutely right. what a fucking fool he’s been to fall for it.

“hey, why don’t we all go to the play room, yeah? maybe start building something with the legos?” nancy grabs all the kids, including kali. eddie hadn’t notice the little girl who looked identical to him. he’d been too busy staring at her.

she gives him an awkward smile. looking down at her feet before clearing her throat. “it’s so much i have to tell you, eds. i just don’t know where to start.”

eddie simply shakes his head. “you don’t need to explain yourself to me, yn. i know your parents probably found out about us.”

her eyes begin to water. he could tell she wanted anything to hold his hand, hug him, and kiss him as if it were their last. he knew that look. it’s never changed.

“it’s deeper than that. i—eddie what my parents did wasn’t okay. what this town has done to you was never okay. seeing you as some kind of—it’s disgusting eddie. you were just a young boy when it started. i don’t know how you did it, eds. i still don’t! you’re the strongest man i know.”

eddie gives her a half smile. he didn’t have much to say. he wanted her to speak. mostly because he missed her voice. it feels good hearing her again.

she simply closed her eyes before sighing. eddie assumed she was holding back tears. he had been doing so the moment he saw her face.

“just gonna rip this off like a bandaid. eddie, the reason why my parents forced us to leave was due to my pregnancy,”

she looks at eddie. he just gives her a blank stare. she frowns not knowing if he heard her. but as soon as his hands connect with his mouth she knew he did.

“i—they just barely made friends in this town. my father being a preacher, he couldn’t risk this town looking at his daughter as the ‘town slut.’ or the ‘freaks mistress.’ so he moved us and forced me to sign my right away to my, our kid. after a few years i couldn’t take it anymore. her seeing me as her older sister and not her mother, it felt so wrong eddie. i—i tried to get to hawkins but i didn’t have enough money. not for food, clothes, shelter, nothing! i knew i had to get my life together to being a single mom. so i moved in with my grandmother and saved and saved and saved. i worked many jobs, barely getting any sleep, making sure our baby was fed, telling her about her dad. i sacrificed a lot to get back to you, eds. so we could get back.” when she finished eddie stared at her. he soaked all the information in.

she bites her bottom lip before hearing footsteps running towards her. she looks down as she feels arms wrap around her. “im hungry, mamma.”

eddie simply bends down. he looks at the little girl. she had her hair in two simple braids, she was wearing an orange rugrats t-shirt, a pair of overalls, and a necklace with an e on it.

eddie cried. he couldn’t believe it. he was a dad! eddie was a father to the cutest kid. he didn’t even know her but he already loved her. she had his eyes. he knew he’d do anything just from one look. this little girl already had him wrapped around his finger. he still couldn’t believe that he was a father.

“mamma.” the little girl whispers. she gestured for her mom to bend down.

“why’s the curly haired man crying? did i do something, mamma?” the little girl questioned.

eddie simply laughs through his tears.

“no, baby. it’s just—remember how mamma said one day she’s gonna take us home to daddy?”

the little girl simply nods her head. “well baby, the curly haired man is crying because he’s your dad and he loves you. he’s just feeling overjoyed.”

“oh! can—can daddy take us to dinner?”

eddie noticed she was going to decline. eddie simply shakes his head with a smile before nodding at his daughter gently.

“yeah, let’s—let’s get some food.” eddie whispers.

eddie watches as his daughter plays in the mcdonalds playroom. she was definitely a mini version of himself. he’s learned that she’s a talker.

the whole time they’d been eating she told eddie pretty much her entire childhood. eddie listened to every word. he loved listening to her babble.

he couldn’t believe that just a few hours ago he was just a man. a man who suffered for the last six years without the only woman he’s ever loved. now that same woman is back in his life and brought him someone precious to spoilt.

god, eddie felt like he now had a purpose in life again. he still had so much work to do within himself. with everything that happened in the upside down. he’s so grateful that dustin and steve carried him out. he would miss this very moment of his life if he died down there. he owed everything to those two. he owed everything to the doctors that saved his life as well.

“so, we should probably discuss somethings.” eddie turned. he completely forgot that the woman he loved, the woman he still loved, was right in front of him.

“nance told me that you almost died, eds.”

here it goes. the seriousness of his life. he knew they’d have to talk about it at some point. he wasn’t quite ready to tell her everything. she didn’t need to know everything! it’s not like she’d believe him anyway. who would believe that a simple fantasy game could be reality?

“i—i did.”

“im sorry, eds. i—i couldn’t imagine what you went through. nance didn’t tell me much. she said that you tried to save the town even after they tried to pin you for murder. may i ask who died?”

eddie clears his throat. he didn’t know how to answer her. telling her that the girl he had a crush on before meeting her, was inside of his house. it would probably devastate her. she knew of his crush on the cheerleader. she’d probably think they’d been together.

but he knew her as well. she could sense a lie a mile away. he didn’t wanna lie to her.

“chrissy.”

“cunningham? how did she—how did she die?”

eddie scratches the back of his head. he bites his bottom lip before looking into her eyes.

“it’s hard to explain, yn. she just—it was the most terrifying thing i seen in my life and im still facing the hell it put me through.”

thankful his girl was understandable. she never pushed eddie into revealing anything he wasn’t ready for. that’s something he’d always love her for.

“i hope this won’t affect whatever this is.” eddie points between the two.

“eddie, we’ve both changed over the last six years. i had our daughter and also had to deal with my toxic parents. you had to deal with seeing someone die and almost dying yourself. we still have so much to work on, eds. for the sake of our family, for our daughter, i think we both need to have professional help. nance tells me you’re already in therapy. that’s great, eddie! means you want to get better. and that’s exactly what kali needs. she needs both her parents to be stable and happy! im looking for a therapist myself. i think until we can figure things out for our kid, we shouldn’t be seeing each other. not romantically. i don’t think either of us are ready for that.”

eddie nods his head. he wants her back. wants to be with her and only her. but he knew mentally, he wasn’t ready for that just yet. eddie had a little ways to go before starting a relationship with anyone. he loves her with his whole soul. but he couldn’t ruin something so pure and beautiful when he’s suffering. he needs time to grow. especially now that he’s a dad.

“i love you eds. ill always love you. you’re my person, okay? and i—i want us to be together. i just want us to be together properly. we deserve to give kali, and ourselves time to learn each other again and time to heal.”

“i agree. i just want to be apart of her life yn. your parents took six years away from me. six years of not knowing where you were or if you were safe. and six years of not knowing i had a daughter. promise me you won’t take that away?”

“i could never! so, we’ll figure this out?”

eddie looks at his kid once more. he gives her a simple nod. “we’ll figure this out.”

#jqhotchner #jqhotchner masterlist #eddie munson x yn #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson series #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson x black fem!reader #eddie munson x black!reader #dad!eddie munson x reader

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dreamonseems · 2 years ago

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being erling's beautiful spoiled wife literally drooling at the thought

Happy Wife Happy Life

Erling Haaland X Female Reader

Summary: You love your role as a wife and mother and the spoiles it brings.

Ok, I love writing this because it's my goal in life to live a traditional life. I want to be a mom and wife and pretty much be spoiled in this way, lol

You, my dear, were not just spoiled; you were the epitome of a spoiled princess, a living embodiment of lavishness and privilege. And for that, you owed an immeasurable debt of gratitude to your beloved husband, Erling Haaland. His love knew no bounds, and there was nothing he would deny you. Your desires were commands, and he eagerly fulfilled them with a tender devotion that knew no limits.

In the gilded halls of your existence, every day was a feast for the senses. Your world was an enchanting stage, where you danced with grace and elegance, mesmerizing all who had the privilege of witnessing your captivating presence. From the delicate click of your perfectly manicured nails against a crystal glass to the swish of your elegant garments as they whispered secrets of luxury, every detail spoke volumes of your status as a cherished wife.

You basked in the glory of your pampered existence, unapologetic and unyielding, for you knew that there were others who shared your circumstances. Yet, unlike them, you did not shy away from acknowledging the blessings that adorned your life. Oh no, you reveled in it, relishing every moment of your charmed existence. You wore your privileged status with pride, like a regal emblem emblazoned upon your soul. It was a source of amusement, even when you adorned yourself in a shirt proudly proclaiming your spoiling, a playful jest that never failed to bring a gleeful chuckle to your lips.

But, let it be known, my dear, that you were no idle idler, simply lounging in idleness and expecting your husband to cater to your every whim without reason. No, you were an active participant in this grand dance of affluence and devotion. You had earned your place of adoration, for you were an extraordinary wife, tending to your husband's needs with an unwavering commitment. Your support knew no bounds, cradling his dreams with the tenderness of a gentle breeze.

Nourishment, too, was a realm you presided over with grace and precision. Ensuring that your husband's palate was adorned with the finest delicacies, you navigated the culinary realm with finesse. Your home, a sanctuary of comfort and solace, bore the imprint of your dedication. It was a haven where love and warmth enveloped every corner, and your children flourished under your care. Their well-being was your paramount concern, and your love for them knew no bounds.

In the sacred roles of wife and mother, you were nothing short of perfect. The very essence of your being thrived in these realms of adoration. Oh, how you reveled in the affection and gratitude bestowed upon you by your husband and children! Their love was a symphony that resonated through your soul, nourishing you to the very core. And, as if that were not enough, the cherry on top of this resplendent existence was the unending joy of being treated as a princess by your doting husband. His adoration was palpable, his desire to spoil you boundless. He delighted in showering you with the most exquisite treasures, adorning you like a priceless gem upon his arm.

Oh, the life you led, my dear, was a tapestry woven with threads of opulence and devotion. You were an enchanting figure, a muse to all who beheld your radiance. And while some may cast judgment upon your charmed existence, you embraced it with fervor and grace. You were unapologetically you, and that, my dear, was a testament to the grandeur of your spirit and the depth of your love.

Not only were you adorned with material indulgences, but he also showered you with a wealth of attention. His affectionate nature manifested through his unwavering devotion and an ardent desire to understand your deepest desires. In his eyes, you were not just someone, but everything—an ethereal being that commanded his undivided attention.

Every word that spilled from your lips was carefully captured by Erling's attentive ears. He listened, truly listened, soaking in every syllable that painted the landscape of your thoughts and dreams. And it was not merely passive listening, but a genuine engagement—a symphony of empathy and understanding that flowed between you. The power of his attention made you feel cherished and validated, like a radiant sunflower basking in the nurturing rays of his affection.

Affectionate touch, a language in its own right, was Erling's brushstroke of intimacy. His hands traced delicate paths upon your skin, igniting a symphony of sensations that resonated deep within your being. Each caress was an expression of love, a physical manifestation of his adoration. With every tender touch, he etched his affection upon your soul, leaving an indelible mark of devotion that whispered of a connection beyond the realms of ordinary existence.

Erling's praises cascaded like a gentle waterfall, each word an ode to your very existence. He regarded you with awe, recognizing your worth and celebrating it with unabashed admiration. The ground you walked upon became hallowed, sanctified by his reverence. Your presence in his life was a testament to his love's magnitude—a love that grew and flourished in the fertile soil of mutual adoration.

But let us not forget, my dear, that your love for Erling knew no bounds. Just as he spoiled you with his affections, you reciprocated in equal measure, albeit through different means. You entrusted him with your heart, placing your faith in his hands, believing in the strength of your bond. Within the realms of your relationship, you willingly embraced a submissive and obedient role, not out of subjugation, but as a testament to your deep love and trust.

Your devotion to Erling went beyond material extravagances; it was a dedication that permeated the very essence of your being. The tenderness of your love enveloped him, offering solace and support. In your nurturing embrace, he found strength and respite from the world's burdens. Your unwavering commitment to his happiness and well-being became a testament to the selflessness of your affection.

Thus, my dear, your love story unfolded, painted with brushstrokes of devotion, trust, and mutual spoiling. A symphony of affection and admiration danced between you, creating a harmonious union that transcended the ordinary. In the tapestry of your relationship, you were both the weaver and the thread, intertwining your lives with a fervor that echoed through eternity. A love between a man and a woman is something so true and necessary, and you thank God every day for it.

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yandere-wishes · 9 months ago

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Opinion on the absolute ANCIENT history of Star Wars legends? Meaning Tulak Hord, Marka Ragnos and such

Anon I am SO SO SO SORRY this took me forever to answer. I loved the ask so much that I wanted to have the perfect mood and ambiance for when I answered it. Suffice it to say that that hasn't happened for a good while now. But I sincerely hope that you are still lurking around this blog and get a chance to see my response. I cannot express how excited this ask has made me!! I harbor an extremely unhealthy obsession with ancient Sith lords and their lore

I'm going to start off by saying that, if we were in the Star Wars universe I would have already become a Sith lord. Due SOLELY to how much Darkside lore I read~🖤❤️

I swear whenever I see a new Sith lord my brain goes: "Omg he's so ugly." Then he proceeds to live in my head rent-free for three days and on the third night, I find myself dreaming of making out with him... this has happened one too many times...It might be a little bit concerning. XD

Tulak Hord gives off major samurai vibes so I feel like he does follow some sorta Sith honor code. That being said he most likely acquires his darling as either a war trophy from some rival or conquered planet. Or she's a wide-eyed Acolyte who he can twist into his perfect darling.

He's also so pretty and I want to kiss him so badly!!

I'd love to be his little darling, a war trophy won in battle. Kept locked away within his fortress. A prize none but him are worthy to see.

After each bloody campaign, he returns to you, his starlight. A dividend that keeps him fighting, keeps him tethered to the dark side of the force. He fights to provide you with an empire, to win your praises at his many accomplishments.

Little does he know of the aversion you harbor for him.

Tulak Hord the monster who took everything from you.

No, but to be fair, I'd still be MADLY in love with him. Just imagine Lord Hord coming home from the battlefield, bloodied and still high off his bloodlust.

Imagine straddling him as you lovingly peel off his bloodied armor. Kissing his flesh every time it appears from under his armor. He'd run his clawed gauntlets over your back tracing your spine. Making you shiver from the frigid steel. Your warmth feels welcoming, innocent, he longs to corrupt it.

Then obviously kissing when you get to his helmet. Deep and passionate. Filled with hate and love. Out of fear, you've learned to play your role as a doubtful lover, a devoted wife, to a fault.

"The universe is more complicated than you could ever imagine, starlight. Be thankful that I've shielded you away from all its inconsistencies."

It's getting harder and harder to remember why you resist him so much. Why push him away when his presence is so overwhelming? Consuming you wholly.

"Thank you, my lord."

NOW...

If you were his Acolyte things would play out a bit differently. He'd have trained you for so many years. Building you up to be the ultimate weapon and simultaneously his ideal darling. You're too far gone, mistaking toxins for affection. You've learned to cherish every bruise and broken bone that comes from him.

You were such a naive little girl when he first took an interest in you. Now he's morphed you into the scourge of the battlefield. The mere mention of your name sends generals running away in fear.

He finds you after every campaign. Permits you the honor of washing his armor and tending to his wounds. Basking in the way your nimble fingers apply bacta to what little scars he may have received.

Tulak is such a tremendous master. Personally seeing to your wellbeing and recovery.

He pulls you onto his lap, kissing your open wounds as he stitches them for you. Sometimes he pulls his helmet up and plunges his tongue into the trauma lapping at the blood and broken muscles as he ravishes in your delightful moans. He'll whisper sweet praises into your ears, telling you how proud he is of all you've accomplished, what a stupendous sith lord you shall make someday, ruling by his side. All while his iron-clad fingers work bruises into your soft flesh.

You are his perfect little doll.

Tulak Hord's perfect little acolyte.

Would it be wrong to say that I kinda want to be Marka Ragnos' concubine? Or just his pretty little princess who's always at his beck and call!! Look he's literally a giant hulking red alien with golden horns... what's not to love!!

Plus I'd give anything to just sit on his lap as he holds court. Tracing patterns across his chest and relishing in the feeling of his claws scraping across your flesh, leaving his mark even when he's focused on galactic domination.

Prior to that Marka would totally dress you in the most ethereal dresses!! All lavish golds and blood reds. Somedays they'd be full-blown multilayered dresses and other days (when he wants to show a bit more dominance) he'll have you wearing danity silk dresses that show more skin than you are comfortable with.

He'd also shower you with praises throughout the day. Calling you his "sweet little princess" and "pretty girl". look getting called "pretty girl" by a sith lord is free therapy and I am HERE for it😤😍😤😍.

I also have this random headcanon that Marka Ragnose is (in some ways) a father figure to Vitita/Valkorion/Tenebrae. That being said it's only logical for Marka Ragnos' darling to be (younger) Vitita's mother figure. In a twisted forceful way, they're kinda like a happy family. Also forced Yandere family is one of my fav tropes, so I had to reference it here lol.

Okay, guys seriously this ask has made me so happy since the MOMENT I got it!! If anyone wants to send in asks for any Star Wars Sith lords (well-known ones, obscure ones, hated/loved ones) my ask box is wide open.

In conclusion, I've been collecting Sith Lords to simp over like an 8-year-old collects Pokemon cards. Sith lords are unconventionally HOT and I'd totally be down to be there sweet little darling !! Like please just let me be a Sith Lord's cute little side piece, the eye candy that hangs off his arm. His pretty little bunny girl that'll do anything to please him.

(*Concerningly looks down at the pride and self-respect I just smashed.* "Whoops...that wasn't supposed to happen")

Anon I think I answered your question with these little stories. I am very much IN LOVE with the ancient Sith lords. And it doesn't just stop at Tulak and Marka. I literally NEED a harm of Sith lords. Look they may not be conventionally handsome, but there's something about "the dark forces warping their appearance" that makes me go absolutely feral!! 🤣🤣😍😍

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deepdarkdelights · 2 years ago

Text

Milliseconds (2) | 10 Series Drabbles

Fic Type: Drabble

Word Count: ~3k

Series: 10 Seconds

Takes place almost directly after the end of the series (part 5).

Summary: The MC has a sudden snap to clarity after hearing about the miraculous escape of another woman who was in a similar position as herself.

Warnings: 18+, Yandere, Kidnapping, Stalking, Anxiety Symptoms, Fear, Mentions of Drugging, Jungkook has baby fever, MC rationalizing toxic and harmful behavior

A/N: Hello! So the votes spoke very loud and clear that you all wanted a 10 Series Drabble! I have been thinking about writing a scenario like this one and I am pretty happy with it so I hope that you guys are too. I believe an anon did give me this idea (updated credit below 12/8) The Jin fic is taking me such a long time and I really wanted to post something as a treat for all of you before finals week - I hope this delivers on that! I love you all and I can’t wait to see your reactions in the comments and my inbox 💜💜💜

Prompt Credit: @mochi13

Drabble (1)

It felt like you had been living in a dream state for the longest time now.

Every thought, every memory was cloudy with a dreamy haze and tinted in shades of rose. The best way to explain it was that you were operating almost entirely on autopilot, especially when Jungkook wasn’t home.

But even in those moments when you were together, you never felt total clarity. Your relationship felt like a dream as well - the stuff of cheap romance novels and teen movies. The very thing that women, and some men alike, craved and dreamt of. No one’s life was meant to be this perfect and that should have been a clue. But the red flags that once waved proudly in front of your face were steeped in shades of gray - you had gone colorblind to his faults.

And honestly, you could understand how that happened. Ever since the two of you had returned to the city and you had slowly introduced your family back into your life a sense of normalcy had unknowingly descended upon your fragile mind. Those unbearable months of isolation in the woods have become lost, buried in the trenches of your mind. And the way he acted now, how he held you, cherished you, loved you, it was easy to become blinded.

You had succumbed to your worst fear and you didn’t even know it.

Even now you melted into his touch. His strong hands settled on your waist as he pulled you back into his chest, his chin coming down to rest upon the slope of your shoulder - notching together like two perfect puzzle pieces.

“Good morning, baby,” He whispered, his voice low and laden with sleep as he nuzzled further into your skin.

“Morning,” You mumbled back with a wisp of a smile on your lips, your hands busy with finishing up breakfast.

Jungkook never asked you to do that for him, in fact, oftentimes he was the one offering to care for you. But months of training from his mother had adhered stronger than you had anticipated. You rose earlier than you used to, your body doing the work for you without your input. It was hard to say if you derived joy from the task, but you knew joy when his pleased smile would spark warmth in your chest.

Jungkook was far too hesitant to admit he did enjoy it when you did these things, domestic things. He didn’t want to make you think he needed a mother - after all he wanted you, a wife. If he wanted a caretaker he would have stayed with his mother. But god, did he fantasize about you being the mother of his children. He dreamt of those sleepless nights with a newborn baby, the first day of kindergarten, and a home filled with laughter and the quintessential pitter-patter of tiny feet. But he knew he had to wait. After all, you had brought it up first, you were not ready.

He delivered a firm squeeze to your hip, his nose brushing at the column of your throat as he let out a pleased hum.

“Down boy,” You giggled, halfheartedly slapping his hands away, “You have work, do you really want to piss Yoongi off by being late again?”

“He’ll be late anyways, you know he doesn’t get much sleep anymore.” He whined before acquiescing and backing off, leaning back against the island counter.

The subtle hints again. Jungkook came home every day from work gushing about Yoongi’s baby. About how she was already saying words despite you knowing she was definitely just babbling and not comprehending whether she was saying meaningful words or not. He was absolutely enamored by his goddaughter.

“She has the cutest little shoes,” and “She sat on Yoongi’s lap during the meeting and drooled all over his documents,” and “I got to hold her for an entire hour and she didn’t cry once, I must be a natural.”

While it was true that Jungkook was a natural at almost anything he tried, you still weren’t giving in to the bait. But when you tried to think about why you didn’t want a child your mind wandered elsewhere and you couldn’t think of a good reason not to. There was some block, some important answer hidden right around the corner but every time you tried to reach out to it, it darted away and stayed just out of reach.

“The quicker you get going the sooner you’ll be home,” You reminded him as you turned the burners on the stove off.

“I could just take the day off again,” He said with a pout.

“No, you just took a week off. You’re the CFO Jungkook you know better,” You chided him.

Jungkook had just taken the week off, declaring the two of you were having a staycation. Said staycation had really just been the two of you redecorating your shared living space, binging dramas, and fucking like rabbits - which had not been your idea but you hadn’t exactly been against it. In fact, you were laid against a few things that week.

You probably should have made the assumption that he had baby fever sooner.

But if you needed anything it was for him to go to work, you needed the break, all of you needed the break. Some parts of you more than others.

“Fine,” He groaned, “But I deserve a reward.”

“Really and what kind of reward are you thinking of?”

“You.”

“Mhm?”

“On my face.”

“...Get out of my house Jeon Jungkook!”

“I didn’t hear a no!” He impishly called over his shoulder as he headed for your bedroom, retrieving and dressing in the clothes you had laid out for him the night before.

You buried your face in your hands as your skin heated up with shame and another feeling you refused to recognize. Jeon Jungkook was going to be the death of you if he didn’t leave that very minute.

Luckily for you, the rest of your shared morning went by without further incident. The sanctity of your kitchen was unsullied by his frankly ravenous sex drive that certainly had come out of the blue.

Unlike last week.

“Baby, where’s my kiss goodbye?” He called from the door after slipping on his shoes.

And like the good wife that you were, you met him at the door, smoothed down the collar of his shirt and the front of his jacket, and popped up onto your toes to give him a kiss. Jungkook has many traits, but his most prominent one was that he never did anything halfway. But even with this knowledge you were still startled by the touch of his fingers to your jaw and the way he tilted your head, deepening the kiss in a way that was far too much this early in the morning.

And then he gave you that smirk of his, that mischievous smile with a quirk of one of his dark eyebrows after leaving you absolutely breathless.

“I love you, I’ll be thinking of you all day. And, don’t forget about my reward,” He said with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows before you were shoving him out the door and slammed it shut behind him.

By all means, your morning had gone normally, just the way it had for the past few weeks since you had officially moved into the apartment as Jungkook’s wife. You had no inkling or hint of an idea that today would be any different.

But it was the little things that you hadn’t even thought of that pushed you over the edge.

Your throat had been a little sore that morning so you decided that you wanted some tea to soothe the ache. So you decided to put the kettle on and in the meantime, you put the TV on for background noise to fill the silence of a too-big apartment without Jungkook.

You had no way of knowing that a major news story had broken that same morning.

“After she went missing ten years ago, Cho Minji has finally been found,” The reporter’s voice echoed out from the flat screen.

“While the story is still progressing we have learned of what happened in her ten years of captivity. Miss Cho had been stalked by an ex-boyfriend for four years after they had broken up and in those four years, he had made extensive plans as to how he was going to hold Miss Cho captive for the rest of their lives.

Deranged notes expressing his undying love for her were recovered from the home alongside pictures and videos that he collected during their relationship and during Miss Cho’s captivity. Miss Cho claimed that she was held against her will while her captor vehemently disagreed claiming that she came willingly. Evidence suggests that Miss Cho was indeed kidnapped from her childhood home and drugged repeatedly over the duration of her captivity to keep her sedated and agreeable. During this time she planned to gain her captor’s trust and in a ten-year plan, she finally succeeded and escaped - flagging down a passing car and making her way to the authorities. More on this incredible story will come as the case continues to unfold.”

A horrible, nauseating feeling was churning deep in your gut, one that had you leaning against the back of the couch for support. But the final push was the kettle, a sharp whistle from the kitchen striking you harder than any hit you had ever taken. In seconds you were transported back to that night and in a moment the rose-tinted glass was shattered.

This wasn’t you. You weren’t some housewife, you and Jungkook weren’t really married, and you weren’t in love. You had fallen for his trap. You and Cho Minji were one and the same, the only difference was that she had much more mental fortitude than you did. She was successful.

Your body was back to moving on its own, but this time you were running on adrenaline as your brain took the back seat. You were tearing the place apart, grabbing clothes and cash and whatever you could grab and stuffing it all into the first bag you could get your hands on.

“Hurry, faster, you need to run as far as you can before Jungkook get’s back. Oh god, what would he do if he found you?” Your brain was practically screaming at you, a whirlwind of anxiety and fear sweeping you up as you stumbled out of the door alone for the first time since you had been taken by Jungkook.

You had no plan as to where you were going to go, only the thought that you needed to flee and you needed to do it now or you would never see another opportunity like this one arise. It was now or never.

You felt like you were doing something wrong, something that was forbidden or perverted as you rushed through the busy city sidewalks. It was a horrible cocktail of emotions, to be so frightened and confused at the same time. You had become accustomed to life with Jungkook, leaving felt wrong and right at the same time.

But the more you pushed on the more you realized you had nowhere to go. You couldn’t go to your parent's house, that would be the first place that he would check. And your friends, well you didn’t really have friends anymore and even if you did you wouldn’t want to put them in harm's way either. You knew what Jungkook was capable of, hell you had witnessed it firsthand.

But it was also so unbelievable that hands that could squeeze someone’s life out of them could be so kind, gentle, and caring towards you. This clarity you had been thrust into was so confusing and startling that you felt like a crazed person wandering the streets.

You were at a loss as to what to do, especially as the adrenaline began to slowly wear off, your body crashing from the sudden influx of hormones.

At the end of the day, you really had nowhere to go, nowhere to go but to him.

You weren’t sure how far you had made it from the apartment, your feet leading you to a park bench which you collapsed against, dropping your bag to the concrete pathway.

What was wrong with you? Why weren’t you running for the hills? What the fuck were you doing?

You sat there, dazed and utterly confused as you anxiously bounced your knee. There were so many thoughts rushing through your head that you were struggling to focus on the task at hand. You needed to make a plan, you needed to figure out what your next move was. The longer you stayed there contemplating the more time you lost to escape.

Jungkook was very quiet about his friends and his life outside of you, but he had dropped hints before that his “friends” weren’t the greatest people. Of course you had met Taehyung and Jimin and they had no problem revealing their twisted nature to you. And you had met Yoongi on several occasions enough to know that he was just as obsessive as Jungkook was. But there were others, other that both Yoongi and Jungkook were reluctant to talk about, their eyes always shifting to you when the topic would come up - a promise that they would talk later when you weren’t present.

Even if you decided to leave now, hopped on the nearest bus and rode it to the end of its route, you had no doubt that they would come for you. Taehyung and Jimin would be there without question and you very clearly remembered Jimin’s gleeful threats to you months ago. But the others, the ones that were far more dangerous would certainly join as well and that was a thought that shook you to your very core.

Your panicked thoughts only became worse as time stretched on, your brain reminding you when Jungkook leaves work and how much time you had left to either leave or go back before he found out you were gone.

You couldn’t believe you would even think about going back but you were. Jungkook had been good to you hadn’t he? He let you have a relationship with your family again, he had pulled the two of you out of the isolation of the woods, you didn’t have to see his family anymore, and he showered you with unrestricted affection and praise. He loved you didn’t he? He said it every day and never let you forget it. He wasn’t a good person but he wasn’t a bad person either - he too was irrevocably changed and damaged by his horrible family, you couldn’t blame him for that you don’t get to choose what family you’re born into.

You were wrenched out of your spiraling thoughts but the sudden vibration of your phone. Despite your fear you checked the caller ID anyways and your stomach lurched as his name lit up the screen: Jungkook.

He had gotten off of work early.

You watched in fright as the call went to voicemail before he tried again, and again, and again, and again. The calls never stopped, one after the other they rolled in like a stubborn storm.

You were really screwed now, he was home and he knew that you were gone. The frantic mess you had left behind had to have told him enough - that you had grabbed what you could and fled. So now you had to make a choice - run with nowhere to go, or return back to the eyes of the hurricane. You knew what Jungkook was like when he was angry - it was a deadly type of calm that was a precursor to unbridled rage.

Your hands shook as you tapped your voicemail, whatever was there would help you make your decision.

There was static for a moment, and then his voice.

“Baby? Where are you? Call me back right away, okay?” He was surprisingly calm but there was a touch of fear to his words.

“This isn’t funny, please just answer your phone, I need to know that you’re safe or I’m going to go crazy, please just call me.”

Each message became more and more desperate until you got to the most recent one. This one was by far the worst. You could hear him crying and struggling to breathe and even dry heaving like he was so distraught he was going to empty his stomach.

“Please tell me where you are, please baby I’m begging you, I can’t live without you I need you,” He was sobbing hysterically into the phone, “Please come home, please don’t leave me here alone,”

In your time with Jungkook you had come to learn something about yourself, you couldn’t stand to hear or see him cry. It broke you down in a way that was indescribable. It always took you back to those days where he was broken and despondent after his father had died. Those days where he needed you to care for him because no one else could. You understood what crushing loneliness felt like and you were empathetic to him to a fault.

Before you realized you were doing it, you were back at the front door - the skin of your cheeks tight from dried tears you had shed when you realized several uncomfortable truths.

You had nowhere to run to

You didn’t have the strength to leave him

You were in love with him, your kidnapper

Just like Jungkook couldn’t live without you, you could no longer live without him. He had infected you with love, the roots of his carnal desire burrowing deep under your skin and penetrating your heart.

You had delivered a single knock to the door before it was ripped open - he had been waiting there that entire time. He had given you the chance to return on your own before he had sent them out to find you.

A choked sob parted his pretty lips before he pulled you into a crushing embrace, collapsing onto the floor with you in his lap. The skin around his eyes and nose were pink, his cheeks glistening with tears as he pressed desperate kisses to your forehead and cheeks, his hand running over your hair like you were his long lost lover returned.

“Why did you leave me?” He whimpered, sniffling as he attempted to stop his tears.

You knew you couldn’t tell him the truth so you did what you had learned to do best, you lied.

“I’m so sorry, Kook. My mother called and said it was an emergency, I didn’t even think I just grabbed what I could and left but I was coming back.” You calmly explained, cupping his cheeks tenderly and wiping away his tears.

“I thought you were gone, I thought you weren’t coming back. I don’t want to be alone, I can’t be alone,” His words rushed out, like he couldn’t hold himself together and needed to say everything he could before he collapsed.

“I’m not leaving you, Kook. I love you.”

“Promise me you’ll never leave me, please I need to hear you say it,” He begged, pressing his forehead against your own.

There was a beat of silence before you spoke, your mind trying to warn you one last time not to make a stupid decision. But in the end, the heart tends to triumph.

“I promise, I’ll never leave you.”

You weren’t Cho Minji, you had no incredible story to tell and nowhere to escape to.

You weren’t Cho Minji, you were in love.

Want to read the main series? Click here to read part one!

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