Call Me Yours (Yandere x Reader Oneshots)

YA: M. Ato x F. Reader

As (Y/n) woke up to a normal day, her eyelashes fluttered open, the warm feeling of another body holding her tightly. She sighed, leaning into the brunette laying beside her, always willing to steal his body heat for her own use. To be honest, she often thought of him as a personal heater. That being said, in winter months, he didn't seem too fond of her placing her cold as ice hands on his skin. Or perhaps it was the fact that he was too bashful to allow her to touch him carelessly.

The younger woman moved around just slightly in the bed, attempting to rest so she could look at the male. However, his strong arms prohibited movement. A low grumble came from his throat, deeply uncomfortable with her moving away from him. To bring her back to his chest, he tugged her closer, using her as his own personal teddy bear. He hummed when everything was back as he liked it, smiling just slightly.

That being said, the peace they felt was bound not to last. As if to make that fact known, the door slid open, a small weeping figure approaching. A small boy dragged his feet along the floor. His oversized yukata trailing behind him, having been undone when he had rolled around in his bed. He attempted to push the tears welling up in his eyes away, but they wouldn't leave. The boy just kept crying.

The servants behind him had attempted to shoo him out of the room, knowing he would bother the young master inside. It was well known that he absolutely despised mornings, never having risen early of his own volition. The brunette simply wanted to lay down with (Y/n) until afternoon. As such, interruptions to his sleeping routine were hardly met with kind words and hugs. Normally, anyway.

The small boy rushed to the large bed past the dogs resting happily, attempting to crawl on the bed. His tiny form prevented him from getting up correctly, prompting more tears to flow from his chocolate eyes. He became louder as well, prompting the (h/c) haired woman to turn her head to look at the small boy. Giving a gentle smile, she left the brunette's arms - met with his great discontent - and picked up the small boy who was quick to hug her tightly.

His tears were still present, but with her presence, they began to subside. Grabby hands latched onto her yukata, his head pressing into her shoulder. She pet him reassuringly, messing up his already unkempt black hair. His yukata was still a mess, but that was something she couldn't fix so easily. It would have required her placing him down to tie it back into place. That being said, it was obvious he didn't want to leave her arms.

"Kitten," the brunette huffed, pulling the younger girl back into his embrace, "Come back to bed."

"Tatsuya's crying. I can hardly leave him alone."

The male once more huffed, opening his eyes and wincing at the light coming through the windows. He sat up in the bed, watching as the small boy latched onto his mother, refusing to let her go. It wasn't as though he didn't understand her fascination with her calming presence, but he would have liked to spend his mornings along with his wife. Still, he couldn't help how his heart melted at the ravenette's precious face.

"What happened, darling?" the (h/c) haired woman asked, using the brush on the bedside table to smooth out his subtle tangles, "It's early even for you."

The small boy clung tighter onto his mother's yukata, not focused on answering. It may have been due to the fact he didn't want to share his troubles. After all, he had been far more empathetic than either of his parents would have guessed. The ravenette hated making trouble for others yet his stubbornness to be by their side was resilient. As such, it only made sense he would cling to his mother of all people. He was a momma's boy through and through.

"You had a nightmare, was that it?"

The boy shook his head at his father's question, his stubbornness matching the brunette in that regard. Although his mother continued to pet his head reassuringly, it seemed that Tatsuya had trouble getting over his sadness. Nonetheless, it was comforting to the young woman that she was able to act so loving towards something so precious to her. He was her youngest child of two, shy and sweet, always clinging to her like she was the most precious thing in the world. It reminded her of her husband quite often.