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fanficimagery · 3 months

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Violent Little Thing

To the Sons of Anarchy, you're just Happy's neighbor that doesn't care for drama or the fact that they wear kuttes. But in actuality, you've dealt and probably have done far worse, and it isn't until you're kidnapped that they find out your secret.

Author's Note: Long time no see, huh? Does this mean I'm back? Hell no. This has been sitting in my drafts since mid-2023 and thought it was time to go out. For never having seen more than a few episodes, I love these SOA boys. I'm not super familiar with the lingo or clubhouse etiquette, so this is gonna take place away from that particular setting. Trigger warning for graphic violence and attempted sexual assault (it doesn't get far). Reader is gonna be a little… off the rails. Blame all the dark romance I've been reading lmao.

Before moving into your new home, you knew it was going to be a fixer upper. Fortunately for you, you loved working with your hands, and after having been banished to Charming in hopes of calming your inner demons, you were going to have a lot of time to do just that. But the joke was on your family because there was no calming your demons. People just needed to learn to not piss you the fuck off.

When you get to the house, however, you see that a majority of the work has already been done for you. The only thing left for you to do is paint the walls, rearrange furniture, and unbox your belongings. The electricity and water are already turned on, and wifi has been installed with your password on a sticky note.

The master bedroom is huge and you love it, but you don't have nearly enough belongings to fill it. Your queen-sized bed looks tiny and you immediately want something bigger. So heading back outside to your vehicle, you grab your bag that has your laptop inside and head back in. Setting up at your kitchen island, you search for a place that will deliver any type of food and beverage. You find a pizzeria just on the outskirts of town that will deliver to Charming, so you place a quick order. It's a forty minute wait period, so to pass the time you start looking up bedroom ideas.

You run across a California king bed, but none really catch your eye. What does catch your eye, however, are the DIY beds that touch from one side of the wall to the other. You take your laptop back to your bedroom so see if it's do-able, and come to the conclusion that it is. You'll have to add some floating shelves since you won't be able to have bedside tables, but that's perfectly fine with you. You then take the time to get down the measurements of your room because you still have to situate your dresser and mount your TV to the wall, and you need to make sure everything will fit.

Eventually your food gets there and, sitting at the kitchen island, you dig in. You slowly eat and drink your fill, and then place any leftovers in the already cool refrigerator.

Needing some bathroom necessities and sheets for your current bed, you unload your vehicle. You place each box in their respective rooms, but leave them mostly boxed up. And not wanting to get any TV's mounted or bed fully put together since you still have to paint the walls, you remain on your laptop to pass the time and send messages to your family to let them know you're okay.

It takes you a couple of weeks to build your bed frame, get in your special ordered mattress, and paint the walls to your liking. You do most of your building in the driveway, so you've become accustomed to the people living on your street, waving at them as they pass or call out a greeting. But there's one individual everyone seems to steer clear of or avoid eye contact with, and that's your next door neighbor who rides a motorcycle and proudly wears a Sons of Anarchy kutte.

You had first seen the intimidating, bald man when he showed up a couple days after you moved in. You'd looked up when you heard the rumblings of engines and watched two motorcycles pull into the driveway next door. You paused hammering for a moment, nodded at the two men who took a moment to stare back, and then went back to work.

Over the next few days, men came and went from next door. And each time, they were intrigued watching you work. But eventually your bed frame was finished and you had to situate it in your bedroom. Maneuvering the mattress was no easy feat, but you were not about to ask for help, and it didn't take you long to finally finish furnishing your home to your liking.

As busy as you've been, you haven't really had the time to eat a home cooked meal. So after everything, you took a trip to the grocery store and bought hundreds of dollars of food and drink to stock your kitchen with.

The air is finally cool and crisp, so all the windows to your home are wide open. You'd been feeling a little restless, so you opted to cook a meal that would keep you busy. Enchiladas, rice, and beans is one of your favorite meals, so after making sure you have everything, you put a pot of beans to cook. They have to cook for a few hours, so while that's going on you get online to check in with your family.

When the beans are done, you get started on browning hamburger meat. Setting a majority of the meat aside, you use only a bit for the enchilada sauce. You pour in water, flour, spices, and some canned chili until it's to your liking, and then heat up some corn tortillas before you start rolling the enchiladas. After they're in a pan that holds far too many for only you, you pour the enchilada sauce on top before shredding some cheese atop of it. Once that's in the oven, you get started on a pan of rice.

It's when the rice is boiling that your doorbell rings. A little tired and more than a little hungry, you grab up your beer after turning off the rice, and take a swig of it on your way to the door. Since the door is wide open, you can easily see who's standing just on the other side of the screen door. It's one of the Sons, one of the only two with brown skin that you've seen so far. But this isn't the intimidating bald one, this is the one with a shaved mohawk down the center of his head and a killer smile.

You arch an eyebrow at him as he tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and you take another swig of beer as you lean against the door jamb. "Yes?"

The corner of his eyes crinkle as his smile widens. "Hi. Uh, me and my boys are chilling next door and we couldn't help but smell whatever it is you're eating. You mind sharing the name of the place where you picked up your food from so we can go get some too? Smells really good."

Your lips twitch. "Who said I picked anything up?"

"You cooking?" His eyes widen. "Bullshit."

You huff a laugh and nod. "YN."

"Juice."

"Mhmm." You push the door open just enough so you can lean out and peer next door, catching sight of two men sitting sideways on the seats of their bike. "Just you three?"

"Yeah."

You hum again and then back into your home as the screen door shuts quietly. "I've been watching you guys come and go, nodding cordially when our gazes clash," you say. "If you're willing to leave your shoes by the front door, you're more than welcome to pull up a seat at the table."

"Forreal?"

"Sure." You shrug. "I never learned how to cook for one, so I might have made an entire tray of enchiladas that will most likely go to waste if someone else doesn't eat them."

"Oh hell yeah." Juice turns, cupping his hands around his mouth as he says, "Yo! Free meal! Get over here!"

You watch as one man eagerly gets off his bike, whooping in delight of free food. The other, the one you believe actually lives next door, casually gets up at a leisurely pace. You push open the screen door as they're stomping up your porch steps, and Juice introduces you to Tig and Happy. You do your best not to smile because Happy does not look quite so happy, but he grunts a greeting when you tell them your name.

As Juice steps into your home, he's quick to kick off his shoes and tell his boys to do the same. They do and then you lead the way to the kitchen, pointing at your table. "Siéntate."

"Ohhh. A Spanish lady," Tig muses as Juice translates for him to sit down as you instructed. When you glance at him, his wild-crazed gaze makes you snort. "I like 'em a little spicy."

"And I like 'em less talkative." Happy and Juice both snort, and Tig beams at your sassy retort. "Beer or soda?"

Tig and Happy take beers, and Juice takes a soda. You serve them each their own plate of three enchiladas, a scoop of rice, and a scoop of beans. You serve yourself last with a glass of water, and finally take a seat to dig into all your hard work.

"Goddamn," Tig grumbles after his first bite of everything. "This is some Mexican restaurant level shit here."

You grin as you eat at your own pace, feeling content at watching three grown men finding your cooking delicious.

"So what's your story?" Juice asks. "In all the times I've come around, it's just you here."

"That's because it is just me here."

"Why Charming?"

You take a moment to swallow your food, washing it all down with a sip of water as you lean back in your chair. Then glancing between each man and the patches on their kuttes, you ask, "Do you want the real story or the story I'm feeding anyone who asks in polite small talk when they see a new face in the store?"

All three men slow their eating, their gazes sliding up to you in surprise.

"What's the story you tellin' the locals?" Tig asks.

Placing a hand over your heart and changing your voice so you sound like a southern belle, you say, "Just that I just left a very nasty relationship and my family thought I deserved a fresh start away from the man who dared lift a fist in my direction."

Tig snorts. "And the real story?"

You chuckle as your voice goes back to normal. "My family thought I needed to calm my inner demons, so they banished me to Charming. Joke's on them, I've made peace with my demons. It's not my fault people keep pissing me off."

Tig and Juice laugh as Happy smirks at you.

"What'd you do to earn banishment?" Juice wonders.

You shrug. "I wasn't joking about the nasty relationship. I just leave out the small detail that once I was out of the hospital, I went crawling back to my dickhead of an ex-fiancé and plotted my revenge."

"Crazy and you can cook. Marry me," Tig says.

You shake your head at him, eating a bit more before finishing the story. "I was raised to take no shit from anyone. So after he put me in the hospital, I made him believe all was well. Then one night, when he least suspected it, I slipped him a little something so he was conscious, but paralyzed, and set fire to his house."

The three men freeze, but you continue eating as if it was no big deal.

"Did you- did you kill him?" Juice warily asks.

"Unfortunately, no." You pout and then laugh at their awed expressions. "He had nosy neighbors so they were able to get the firetrucks there as soon as they smelled smoke. But when my family found out, they said I was sloppy, so I got shipped out here."

"Yoo.. what the fuck?" A moment of quiet ensues and then Juice is laughing. "That has to be the craziest shit I've heard in a while."

"I highly doubt that." Your gaze drops to the patch on his kutte. "I'm sure you've heard, seen, or taken part of some pretty crazy shit." When you meet his gaze again, you smirk. "Am I wrong?"

Juice grins and then looks at Happy. "Your neighbor is cool as shit. I'm kind of jealous." The air of amusement lingers as everyone continues to eat. "So what do you do for work?"

"I do some IT stuff for my family." You shrug. "I can work from anywhere, so I guess I'll still be doing that. What about you boys? What do you do other than ride?"

"We work at Teller Automotive," Tig says. "Only car garage in town."

"Really? Do you guys have any openings this week? I need my oil changed."

"Sure. We'll leave a number before we leave."

The rest of dinner is spent with the men telling you what there is to do in Charming and asking how long you plan on staying. You're not really sure, but if you end up liking Charming then you have no issues setting down roots. And then when dinner is done and you've seemed to exhaust all the small talk topics, you plate up the leftovers and send the men on their way.

Over the next couple of weeks, you befriend your neighbor. You take your vehicle into Teller Automotive and Happy takes it upon himself to take care of it for you. Tig and Juice had kept you company, and introduced you to a few of their other brothers when they took interest in their new friend. You were invited to one of their parties and, after some pressuring, you went. Nothing shocked you, not even a few members of the club getting head in plain sight, but Happy apparently shocked everyone else by gluing himself to your side. According to the club President, Happy was normally found in the ring outside or fucking his way through croweaters, but that night he made sure that no one bothered you.

Then more often than not, Happy reaped the benefits of your cooking and appeared for dinner before taking leftovers home for lunch.

In such a short period of time, you grow accustomed to the stern biker's company.

One morning, you're startled awake by the doorbell ringing and a fist pounding on the door. You sit up and scoot out of bed, hurrying towards your front door in a groggy, yet panicked state. But before you pull the door open, you peer out one of the thin windows on one side of your door. It takes a moment for you to realize it's Happy and that the sky behind him is still dark.

Unlocking the door, you pull it open. "What the fuck, Hap? What's going on?"

With a duffel bag hanging off his shoulder, Happy looks you up and down. "You always answer the door like this or am I just special?"

You freeze and then glance down, rolling your eyes when you remember you went to sleep in a gray wife beater, that makes it very obvious you're not wearing a bra, and a pair of hipster underwear. "Neither. You're lucky."

"Sure." You narrow your eyes at him and he smirks. "I forgot the bills were due and everything got shut off. Can I crash here until I get it sorted?"

Without missing a beat, you say, "Yeah," and step back from the door, opening it wider. "Shoes off. You know where the bathroom is and I'm pretty sure you can find the guest bedroom." You yawn and lock the door behind your friend. "What time is it?"

"Little after five."

"Happy," you whine. "S'too fuckin' early. M'going back to bed." As you pad back to your room, you don't hear any footsteps behind you. "Stop staring at my ass!"

"Can't help it. Might start dropping by early now."

"Do it and die, Lowman." Stopping and turning, you point an accusatory finger at him. "Do not come in between me and my bed. I will murder you."

His lips twitch. "Worth it."

. .

It takes less than a week for Happy to get his power and water turned back on, and then he's back at his house. Though there are times when he shows up for dinner, dropping off on your couch when he's too tired to walk back home. Normally you would mind, but Happy knew how to clean up after himself, so you didn't mind that it seemed he was practically half moved in.

One night, you get a call from your brother that they need you to come in and work on cracking the passwords on a few laptops they'd gotten their hands on. You agreed, but first you needed to arrange someone to look after your house.

The next afternoon, you show up to Teller Automotive. You find Happy on a smoke break and ask him for a favor. When you ask him if he can keep an eye on your house for two days, he seems surprised, even more so when you give him a copy of your house key. You tell him he can crash there and eat whatever food you have so long as he doesn't trash the place. He readily agrees.

And when you return two days later, you realize you should have specified that he could crash in the guest bedroom. Finding a nearly naked Happy in your bed isn't half bad, nor is the firmness of his ass when you smack a hand down on it to wake him up.

Immediately he jerks awake, twisting his body as he sits up, and pointing a gun right at your face. You laugh and lick the tip of the barrel while wiggling your eyebrows at him. "Wakey, wakey."

"You're a fuckin' pyscho," he grumbles, lowering his gun.

"Yeah, well duh. You should have had that figured out a long time ago." He rolls his eyes before turning to drop down face first back into your pillow, shoving his gun back under it. You grin. "Was there something wrong with the guest room you've been using?"

"No. I just didn't know how fuckin' massive your bed was. It looked lonely without a body in it."

"Mhmm. I'm sure." He grunts and you chuckle as you crawl out of the bed. "I'm gonna go pick up some breakfast from the diner. Want anything?"

"Anything and everything."

"Gotcha. I'll text you when I'm on my way back."

. .

The dynamic between you and Happy ended up changing after that fateful morning. When he slept over, it was in your bed. You hadn't crossed the line past lingering touches or innuendos, but it was a given that he was the only person allowed in your bed. You didn't care for the croweaters at the parties his club put on every Friday night, but the two of you made a statement when he rolled up one night with you seated behind him.

The Sons nearly gaped as Happy amped up his protectiveness, pulling you between his parted thighs as he took a seat on a stool at the bar. Tig and Juice had walked over, and Happy perched you on his knee as you joked with his brothers. The croweaters didn't bother to hide their glares or sneers, but you merely smirked at their cattiness and took to scratching the back of Happy's head with your nails when you'd draped your arm around his shoulders.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax, the club president, had asked.

You shrugged and grinned. "We're friends."

"Friends don't stake claims."

"We're possessive friends."

Happy had snorted but didn't correct you.

From there on out, it was known that you were Happy's.

The Sons are relaxing at the clubhouse after a long day's work when blacked out Escalades and BMW's pull up. The atmosphere immediately goes from relaxed to tense, and the Sons flank their President when he walks out to the lot to see what the deal is.

Thug after thug exit the vehicles before opening the doors on two Escalades, ushering out four well-dressed men. None of them look like they'd be a person to fuck with, so Jax is extremely curious as to what the fuck is going on.

"Can I help you?" He asks, eyebrow arches as tattooed thugs flank the apparent important men.

"I hope you can." The one in charge reaches into his coat pocket, pulling out a picture. "What do you know about this woman?"

When Jax is shown a picture, he mentally curses. It's Happy's neighbor and a friend to many Sons. He keeps his expression neutral, before shrugging. "Nothing. Should I?"

"She's my baby sister."

"Oh hell…"

"YN never misses check-in and she's missed two," the man explains. "It's come to my attention that she's made some connections to Happy Lowman, Juan Ortiz, and Tig Trager- all Sons of Anarchy. Do you understand why I'm here now?"

"Fuck, man, we didn't know. What can we do?"

"You can start by questioning your men to see if they'd heard from her."

At that, Tig steps forward. "I haven't seen or spoken with YN in a little over a week."

"What about Juan or Happy?"

Jax looks at his gathered men, frowning. "Where are Juice and Happy?" No one says anything, looking as confused as their President when they don't see their familiar faces. Then raising his voice, he asks, "Has anyone heard from Happy or Juice today?" Nothing. No one utters a peep. "What about yesterday?"

"Jax." Opie has his phone to ear, shaking his head. "Both are going to voicemail."

"Shit." Then turning around to face the slowly darkening expressions of YN's apparent brothers, Jax asks, "How can we help?"

. .

When your eyes flutter open, every inch of your body is in pain.

"How the fuck does my hair hurt?" You groan. You try to sit up, but realize you're on your side, on dirt and hay, with your hands tied behind your back. "What the actual fuck?" Clearing your vision, you see that you're not alone. Happy and Juice are with you, but they're in chairs with their hands tied behind their backs and looking a little beat up.

"Welcome back, Sleeping Beauty," Juice tiredly muses.

"What happened?" Maneuvering around some, you manage to sit up.

"Kidnapped," Happy says. "They injected us with some shit, but they gave you too much."

You grimace as you roll your neck. "Dicks." It's dim in the empty barn you're being kept in, but you can see sunlight through the cracks of the walls. There are stalls for animals on either side of you, all empty, and a table filled with various blades and weapons not too far away. Your aching arms are your main priority though, so you move into a crouch and wiggle your tied wrists under your butt. With a grunt, you fall backward and maneuver your hands until they're situated in front of you. "Ah. That's better."

"Get up and grab a blade so we can get the fuck outta here," Happy urges.

You do as you're told, mentally scoffing at the thought that these morons didn't think to bind your ankles. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky as someone had been watching from the shadows. So just as you're reaching for a blade, that someone jumps out at you and roughly pins you against the table.

Bent over with your arms above your head and someone pressed up right against you, you immediately start thrashing and cussing out whoever it is. Happy and Juice shout, and start wriggling in their own seats when a hand then pins you to the table by the back of your neck.

"So close, princesa." A man tuts and you jerk in his hold, but still he persists. Laughter causes you to look up, watching as another two men step out from behind Happy and Juice. "Is that anyway to talk to your host?"

"Fuck. Off."

"Oh, I will." Just then, a hand grips your waist and squeezes, and you freeze. "Just not yet. I have some questions for you."

"Don't you fucking touch her."

When you glance up at Happy, there's a look on his face that you've never seen before. You know what he does for the Sons, but you'd never seen that particular dark look or glint in his eyes, and for a moment it steals your breath away. Then you remember that look isn't meant for you, and you squirm a little as the man behind you laughingly presses his pelvis into your ass. "Or what?"

Juice answers, "Or we'll fucking kill you."

That causes all three men to laugh some more.

"Doubtful. But thanks for the laugh." Then the man behind you focuses on you once again. "Besides, my business isn't with you, but with the princesa de la mafia."

You tense. "I don't know anything."

"Aw. Of course, you don't," the man coos. "I would hope that your brothers are smart enough to never let a woman in on their secrets. But then again, you are the baby sister of one of the most dangerous mafias in the United States. I'm pretty sure you know something that I can use to hurt those brothers of yours."

You manage to angle your head just enough so you can make eye contact with Happy. He meets your stare, and you see it subtly soften, but then he's glaring at the man holding you once more. "I won't sell out my brothers."

"No?" The man releases your neck, only to trail his fingers down from your ribs to hips. "I don't want to mess up such a pretty face, but you do know there are other ways to break you and get you to talk, right?"

And then before you can answer, he's grabbing the back hem of your shirt and ripping it down the middle.

You yelp just as Happy shouts, "You motherfucker!", and squirm to get away. Across from you, Happy and Juice are pummeled a few times until they stop trying to break the chairs they're bound to.

The man rubs a hand up and down your back, fiddling with your bra strap, but never unsnapping it. You feel gross, but it's only when the guy reaches around to fiddle with the button on your jeans does red cloud your vision.

"Hey, Hap?" You manage to meet Happy's livid gaze. "Remember when I spoke about my demons?"

"Yeah."

"They desperately wanna come out to play."

"Shut the fuck up, you whore!" The man slaps you across the back of your head and you grit your teeth, biding your time.

Happy slowly smirks. "Then let them out to play, baby."

The moment the button on your jeans is opened, you scream at a pitch that startles every man in the room. Then pushing up as much as you can, you headbutt the man behind you. As he swears, you reach for the first handle you see and are pleasantly surprised to find a small machete. Then without even thinking, you whirl around and swing the blade, catching your would-be abuser in the neck with the blade.

Blood sprays as you immediately tug the blade free, leaving the man to try and cover his wound as he splutters on his own life force. From the corner of your eye, you see someone running at you, but another swing of the machete finds a home in the second man's face.

As the man falls back with a scream unlike anything you've ever heard, he takes the machete with him. Happy and Juice shout at you, and it's then you remember the third. He's running at you, a small blade in hand, and you reach for the nearest weapon. It's a metal bat and just as you rear back to swing, he swings first. The blade makes contact with your bicep, slicing it open, but you only feel the sting of it after you swing.

The bat clips the man in the jaw, stunning him. As he stumbles back, you advance. He sloppily swipes at you again, but you dodge it. The second hit with the bat hits true, catching him in the temple.

The man falls and you're quick to stand over him, bringing the bat down a third time.

The bat connecting for a fourth time makes Juice cringe, but Happy proudly watches on.

Thwack.

Thwack. A scream.

Crack!

"Shit. I think that was his skull," Juice mutters.

YN screams as she continues to wail on the man with her bat, caving his skull further and further in, to the point there's now a puddle of blood beneath his head and splattering with every pull back.

The barn doors open, and Happy and Juice tense when armed men start to file in, but they exhale with relief when they see Jax, Tig, Chibs, and Opie in the mix. All the unfamiliar men take in the scene with an air of indifference, but it's the expressions of the Sons that almost make Happy laugh out loud. They'd only known YN to laugh, feed them, or threaten the croweaters with violence. None of them, with the exception of himself, Juice, and Tig, knew the violence she was capable of.

"Uh, a little help?" Juice calls out. "My arms are killing me over here."

Tig rushes over, pulling out a blade to cut his brothers free. "What the fuck happened?"

"One of them threatened to rape her and she just lost her shit."

Juice is cut free first, and he immediately stands, rubbing his raw wrists. As Jax checks in with him, Happy is cut free.

"Boss, should we stop this?" Someone asks.

Happy looks over in time to see a guy in a suit grimace when blood is flung onto his pristine boots. "Do you want to get in the middle of that? You know how YN is. Let's just let her run out of steam."

As the guy steps back in line with a nod of agreement, Happy huffs and stands. He stalks over to YN until he's behind her. Then when she raises the bat high above her head, Happy lunges. He manages to grip the bat where it isn't slick and pulls it from YN's grasp.

Still very much livid, especially now that your weapon's been ripped from you, you whirl around to start screaming expletives and pummel whoever it is with your bound fists. Instead, arms are wrapped around you, keeping your arms stuck between your chest and another, and there's a gruff voice in your ear saying, "It's over. It's over, baby. The cavalry's here. You can stop now."

It takes a long minute for the voice to infiltrate the fog of rage, and then a moment to realize who's speaking.

When your struggles cease, Happy leans back a little to look down at you, but with his arms still wrapped around you. "You back?"

"Y-Yeah. M'sorry."

Happy grunts and leans his face closer to yours, and for a moment you think he's about to kiss you. Instead, he presses his forehead against yours as his eyes close, and he exhales with relief. "Don't be. That was hot as fuck."

You huff a quiet laugh as a bout of silence ensues, but then one of your brothers decides to ruin it.

"Hey, Lowman, we'll give you a million dollars if you give her your last name and take her off our hands."

You jerk in Happy's hold, turning to glare at all your smirking brothers. "Fuck off!" Laughter ensues at your disgruntled expression before Juice fills them in on what happened, and then Happy is tugging on your bound wrists so you look back at him before finally cutting you free. "Thank you."

One hand grasps the hair at the back of your head, gripping a little tight as he holds you in place so he can press a kiss to your forehead. "Let's get you home. You're covered in blood, and I need to take a look at your arm."

Glancing at your arm, you shrug. It stings, yeah, but it doesn't seem deep enough. And then just as you go to take a step, Happy swoops you up into a bridal carry.

It's then you notice that you, Happy, and Juice are all barefoot, and it's Juice who answers your unasked question. "You sleep like the dead, girl. Happy and I heard them enter the house, but they still managed to get the drop on us."

"I'm getting you a goddamn dog," Happy grumbles in response.

"Only if you clean up after it." He grunts and you grin. If he wanted a guard dog for you, then he was cleaning up any messes.

Outside the barn, suggestions are made about where to go now. Jax suggests the clubhouse, but at the wrinkling of your nose, Happy says you'll be going home. Your brothers mention not everyone can go because that many vehicles will draw attention, so Jax suggests sending your brothers' men back to the club with Opie and Chibs. They agree, and then you're loaded up into an Escalade with your brothers and Happy.

When you get to your house, Tig mentions that they had cleaned up and straightened your furniture after they figured out what had happened. You thank him and let Happy carry you to your bathroom while Juice takes the guest bathroom.

As Happy sets you on the counter, you watch as he gets the first aid kit from beneath your sinks. "They're gonna talk."

"Let them. The club already thinks we're fuckin'."

You snort. "Please. They should know by now that I'd never settle for a relationship where the guy gets to fuck around when he's on the road." Happy freezes with the antiseptic spray bottle in his hand before shaking himself free of thought and spritzing your arm where you were cut.

"Is that why you haven't given me the go-ahead to slip between your thighs?"

You smile at his blunt question and then wince when he wipes your arm clean. "Pretty much. I'm not a fan of my partner sticking his dick or tongue in some rando pussy, then coming home and doing the same to me." Happy grunts and you arch an eyebrow at him. "Would you be okay with me visiting my brothers and sucking someone's dick before coming home to you?"

"Fuck no."

"Exactly." You grin triumphantly. "So, unless you plan to stop dicking down croweaters or sweetbutts, the most you'll get out of me is some cuddling."

Stepping back, Happy tosses the used gauze pads into the trashcan and then reaches into your shower stall to turn on the water. Then looking at you, he demands, "Strip."

"If I fully strip, there's no going back. You're mine and mine alone." You hop off the counter, slipping off your ruined shirt without batting an eye. "I was calm and collected at your parties before because we're friends, but that all changes after this. I won't take it easy on any woman touching what's mine."

Happy smirks as he eyes you in your bra and jeans, and then strips off his shirt. "Good."

You've seen the man shirtless only a handful of times, but seeing his ink never fails to give you pause. You reach out for the first time, tracing the snake tattoo that takes up a majority of his chest and upper abdomen, before you trace the various happy faces on the side of his waist. You feel his abdominal muscles twitch and then between one heartbeat and the next, Happy's crowding you against the sink counter and angling your head up.

His kiss is as aggressive as you figured it'd be, his tongue sliding against yours and teeth digging into your bottom lip. You give as good as you get, nails digging into either side of Happy's waist as you kiss him. Then when the need for air arises, you pull back and try to catch your breath. "Well okay then."

Moving out from Happy's reach, you strip, uncaring of your nudity and then step into the steaming shower. Happy isn't too far behind you, but you're not too interested in seeing him fully naked as you are cleansing a stranger's blood from your body. Standing under the waterfall, you watch as the shower floor turns red. Happy presses in close behind you so he's under the water as well, and you straighten up before leaning your head back onto his shoulder, smiling softly at his hardness that presses against your ass.

"No funny business, Lowman. At least not until we've eaten a fuck ton and slept for a day or two."

He grunts. "Agreed."

You immediately start washing your hair, and you're surprised when Happy takes it upon himself to lather up some soap on your bath pouf to wash your body. For the most part he behaves himself, but when his thumb oh so casually brushes over your nipples, you slap his thigh and pay him back when it's your turn to wash him. He grunts when you take his dick in hand and thrusts into your soapy palm, but you quickly release him to finish washing his body.

"Fuckin' tease."

"You started it."

You get out of the shower first, smirking as Happy tells you he'll be out in a moment. You know exactly what that moment's going to entail since his hand is already stroking his cock before you can even find a towel.

"You gonna want something to eat?"

"Send Tig to get burgers and fries."

"Alright."

Back in your room, you can hear a muttered conversation from somewhere in your house. Clutching the towel around your body, you stick your head out your door. "Tig!"

"What?"

"Happy said to go get us some burgers, fries, and Cokes!"

"Do I look like a fuckin' maid?!" Tig appears in the hall, hands on his hips.

You grin at him. "No, but I do have a maid's costume. Wanna try it on?" Tig gapes and you laugh at his expression. "Come on, Tig. Please? You can grab some cash from the junk drawer."

"Fine. But only because I know Hap will murder me if I don't, not because I'm picturing you in a teeny tiny maid's outfit."

"Sure, buddy. Thank you!"

Tig grumbles as he turns to march out of your house and then you worry about getting dressed. You dress in nothing but a sports bra and boy short underwear, and then with a reluctant sigh you head to the front. Everyone's in your kitchen, sitting around your table, and your brothers groan when they see how little you're wearing.

"Oh, shut up. You've seen me in clothes like this before."

"In tights, not underwear," one brother grumbles.

"Just be glad they're boy shorts and not a g-string."

All your brothers groan yet again whereas the Sons find the interaction amusing. You take a seat at the table, grimacing a little and touching at your raw wrists.

"Let me get that for you," Juice says. He leaves to, no doubt, grab the first aid kit from the bathroom. Then taking a seat next to you, he asks, "Did Hap disinfect your arm?"

"Yeah. Just spritz it again and wrap it. It'll be fine."

As soon as Juice gets to work, Happy enters the kitchen in nothing but a pair of jeans hanging off his hips.

"Jesus," one of your brother's mumbles. "Are people suddenly allergic to clothes around here?"

You grin as Jax arches an eyebrow at his friend. "You have clothes here?" Happy nods and sits, and you quickly introduce him to your brothers while Jax looks at Juice to say, "You seem to know your way around this place too."

"It's because they practically live here when they're not at the clubhouse," you say. "Hap's moved his shit in my room, and Tig and Juice have slowly taken over my guest room." Then glancing at your brothers as if you didn't just drop somewhat of a bombshell on Jax, you ask, "So what the hell happened?"

Juice taps above one of your raw wrists and you situate them so he can disinfect them.

Your eldest brother meets your gaze. "There's a new family in town- Jimenez. They're trying to make a name for themselves and thought they could intimidate us." You scoff as your other brother's chuckle. "When they didn't get the reaction they were looking for, they came up with the bright idea to target the weak link. They thought they had the perfect candidate when they found out we had a baby sister."

"Joke's on them, you're fuckin' psycho," another brother muses.

"I'm not-"

"We literally walked in on you bashing a guy's head in."

"And let's not forget the whole reason you're in Charming is because you tried to burn down your ex's house while he was still inside."

"Or that one time you wrecked your car into that other girl's car all because she broke your friend's heart."

"That cunt cheated on him. She deserved every bit of karma I dished out."

Jax snorts, shaking his head. "Christ. You and Hap are gonna be a pain in my ass."

"You know it."

Tig shows up just after Juice is finished with your wrists. Juice then dishes out the food to you, Happy, and himself, and you get up to grab drinks from the fridge. As you settle back down, Jax and your brothers watch in surprise at how the three of you go to town on your provided meals.

"So, what exactly does one do as a mafia princess?" Jax wonders.

Chewing the food in your mouth, you only answer him after taking a drink of your soda. "I'm the family hacker. If they need a computer hacked into to gather information or scrub information, I get called in."

"So, in other words, you're female Juice," Tig says.

You laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I am." Juice grins and you reach over to fist bump him.

You continue eating as Jax speaks with your brothers, listening as this small portion of the Sons of Anarchy are filled in about what business your family gets up to. When you're finished eating, you stand and start gathering up the trash to toss. While you're up, you grab yourself a glass of water and some Ibuprofen. Then after downing four pills, you head back to reclaim your seat at the table, only for Happy to gently grab you by the arm and tug you down onto his thigh.

Your brothers don't care about your new chair, but Jax, Juice, and Tig can't help but raise an eyebrow.

"So, is this a thing?" Jax wonders, gesturing between you and Happy.

As you drape an arm behind Happy's shoulders to settle more against him, you smirk. "What's the matter, Teller? Scared?"

He huffs and then stares at Happy, but the man beneath you merely says, "Gonna start drawing up a crow. Does that answer your question?"

The kitchen goes eerily quiet and then…

"Holy shit. Hap's actually gonna take a woman," Juice says in awe.

"This is a momentous occasion. We gotta throw a rager." The glint in Tig's eyes has you narrowing your own eyes at him.

"You just wanna see a girl fight. Don't you?"

"Hap's been possessive of you since you first showed up to the clubhouse, but now that you're staking a claim, the thought might have crossed my mind."

"Are you sure you wanna see that?" One of your brother muses. "YN might traumatize a few poor souls."

Tig smiles. "I look forward to it."

You roll your eyes at Tig's excitement about possibly seeing you fight and your brothers chuckle. The Sons really had no idea what they were in for when someone tested your patience.

Standing, you keep a hand on Happy's shoulder as you say, "Well as much as I love, like, and appreciate all of you, you need to go. I'm exhausted and I still need to sleep off whatever I was drugged with."

Jax grins. "Is that code for us to get the hell out so you can bang Happy's brains out?"

Snorting, you shake your head as your brothers all grimace. "No. I'm seriously exhausted. The fucking will come later after we're well rested. I have a feeling I'm gonna need loads of energy for Hap."

Your brothers all make noises of disgust as they stand, and you take a moment to hug and kiss each of their cheeks on their way out. You promise to call when you're feeling better and then you're ushering the Sons out as well.

Locking up after everyone has left, you head to your room where you find Happy stripping off his jeans. He's in nothing but a pair of boxer briefs as he pulls your blanket back before sliding under and you pad over to do the same. You meet him in the middle, laying on your side as you drape one arm over his abdomen. With your head on his arm, you snuggle closer and Happy reaches for your leg to have it draped over his thigh so you're as close as can be without actually laying on top of him.

"Were you serious? About the crow?" You ask right before you drift off.

"Does that freak you out?"

"Not really. But if I get your mark, you're getting mine."

Happy huffs. "And just what is your mark?"

"My lips and name." You run your hand across his abdomen before walking your fingers down to one of the few empty patches of skin, below his belly button and right beneath where the snake's tail curls. "Right here."

"Above my dick, you mean?"

"Mhmm."

Happy grunts and then squeezes you a little tighter to him. "We'll see, princess. Now get some sleep."

#happy lowman imagine #happy lowman x reader #happy imagine #happy x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #soa imagine #happy lowman #juice ortiz #tig trager #jax teller #dark romance

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oncomingnight · 8 months

Text

Yandere! Slasher x Fem Reader₊˚⊹♡

These Boots Are Made For Breakin' Teeth..!

Sebastian was the son of an incredibly well known movie mogul, whom of which helped ignite his adoration for a very specific genre of film, horror. Due to the success of his father's career, he was raised in an environment surrounded with money and awaiting opportunities.

Sebastian was part of a friend group filled with stereotypical personalities, the rich girl, the nerd with glasses, the jock, the quiet girl and the peaceful pacifist. He'd been friends with them all the way from elementary to currently, high school.

His style consists of flannel, woolen jackets, darkly colored long sleeved tops, tank tops, slightly unbuttoned shirts, rolled up sleeves.

Despite his almost permanently unimpressed expression, he'd be, undeniably, the sweetest man you were to ever meet. You wouldn't even have to be struggling with a task for him to swoop in and take care of it himself, the favor always being followed with a slightly teasing remark.

"Looking to get yourself hurt, y/n?" "No, really, I'll take care of it. Go on and relax with the others, wouldn't want you worrying your pretty little head about this."

Sebastian has never murdered anyone without a realistic reason, but everyone has different interpretations of what is necessary and what is not. He's a smart guy so he'll always wear a mask when he's about to go into the night, searching for his target. Many of the people that he has left for dead are people who have caused you or his family emotional distress. He finds anyone that isn't 'overly' protective of their close ones as useless and a waste of air.

Who is he but your protector?

He is the best gift giver that there is, it's almost frightening how able he is to know exactly what you want. His gifts are always color coordinated, accompanied with photographs he's taken of the two of you together.

He's the type to form his fingers into 'bunny ears' when the two of you are posing for a photo and placing them behind your head.

Don't be surprised to find him beside your bed with your favorite beverage, food, snacks and movie dvd when you aren't feeling like yourself.

He's a highschool senior that's got enough money to last him several life times, of course he's going to attend as many parties as he can. But, he's never going to go without you or if they purposefully only invite him. Sebastian keeps a hawkseye on you whenever the two of you attend a social outing together, making sure no one is being a bother or approaching you with malice.

Sebastian would do absolutely anything to see you show that smile he loves so much. Whether that means taking you to an early screening of a movie you've talked about wanting to see, taking you on a road trip surrounded by country roads as Lord Huron's 'The Moon Doesn't Mind' plays, purchasing concert tickets for you to see your favorite artists live, booking a trip to the countryside of a European country whilst staying in a secluded cabin or just going on a simple coffee run.

He has a wooden box that is filled with photographs, letters and trinkets related to you. Yes, he has a necklace of yours that he had swiped and carefully placed into his box of memories.

He hopes you don't mind!

As I've said before, his tough exterior doesn't mean a thing when it comes to the soft center he's got on him.

He has a Pinterest board dedicated to how he'd like your wedding & honeymoon to look, based on everything he knows you'll enjoy.

#yandere #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x you #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oneshot #obsessive love #obsessive yandere #male oc x y/n #male oc x you #male oc x reader #male oc #oc x character #x you #oc x oc #x reader

933 notes · View notes

allysunny · 3 months

Note

Hello!! Can i request a 14 + 19 + n for Miguel? remember to take care of yourself as always :)) , luv from anon! 🎀

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me” + “I’ve got you” + Pregnancy x Miguel O’Hara

Words: 4.1k words

Warnings: Beach day! Fluff, pregnancy, mentions of body image issues, mention of suggestive themes, some light angst (if you squint, really), soft Miguel, he's an incredible husband <3 If I missed anything, let me know, I'm terrible at tagging! Not proofread - oops!

A/N: Hey everyone!!! I'm back!!! Wow, I could post two works this week? Insane!!! Well, it was a real blast writing this. I mean it, I got it ready in like, a day or two. That's just how much fun I had with this little drabble! It was just so cute, and I'm a sucker for soft Miguel. I missed writing for him!!!

Once again, I ask your patience. I promise I haven't given up on writing, I'm just really, really busy hahaha.

Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this! I certainly did <3

“These are so good…” you mumbled, biting into the treat in your hand.

Miguel, standing next to you, winced and his face contorted in a slight expression of disgust. “Cream cheese with anchovies?” he asked, “Yes, mi vida. I’m sure it’s delicious.”

You kept on biting at your sandwich, a content smile on your lips.

“How’d you know this is exactly what I’d want right now?” you asked, mouth stuffed. Miguel winced again. You knew it bothered him when people spoke with their mouth full, and yet he said nothing, simply happy to watch his loving wife indulge in her (honestly appalling) sandwich.

“Call it a lucky guess. All of your cravings so far have been disgusting, I thought I might as well mix whatever we had left on the fridge, and you’d enjoy it.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. Seriously? Were you and your cravings that predictable that he could just mix whatever two ingredients there were in your fridge? But as soon as you gave it some more thought, the notion made you laugh. Perhaps it didn’t mean you were predictable, only that your husband knew you that well.

You ran a hand on top of your pregnant belly, giving it a few pats before returning to your sandwich.

“Thank you. Our baby seems to be enjoying it as well,” you tell him with a soft smile.

Miguel returns it and bends down to press a soft kiss on top of your stomach. “Well, that makes me happy.”

You two sat there. You, enjoying your ridiculous sandwich, Miguel enjoying your company. He’d been meaning to take you on a small beach day for a while now, but his work kept getting in a way. After a few tweaks in his schedule (courtesy of Lyla), and a few missions handled by other people (Jessica and Peter B. had been kind enough to catch those anomalies by themselves), he’d managed to snag you away on a sunny Saturday morning.

You had everything you could possibly need. Lots (and lots) of food, an insane amount of sunscreen (that Miguel insisted on applying on your skin every 20 minutes), a few books to keep you entertained (even though you’re only spending the day, and not a whole week), lots of refreshments, and four beach umbrellas for you to sit under (that occupied far too much space, something you’d stressed a lot at home. But it’s not like Miguel listened).

“Everything alright, mi vida?” He asked you.

You nodded and wiggled your feet, relishing on the feeling of the soft sand against them. “As alright as it was five minutes ago, Miggy. I promise I’m fine. There’s no need to worry about me.”

He only sighed in response and shook his head.

“Are you sure you’re alright? Can I get you anything? Would you like something from the beach bar? Fresh juice? Any other beverage? An ice cream?” Miguel looked positively adorable when he worried. Ever since you told him you were pregnant, he started treating you as if you were made of glass, and as soon as you started showing, he went actually crazy.

His wife can’t lift a box – can’t bend down and possibly hurt the baby. He’ll do all of the heavy lifting. In fact, he’ll do all of the lifting.

She can’t do the dishes – spending far too long on her feet can tire her out, and he couldn’t have that. He’ll wash everything and get a dishwasher for the days he worked late.

She can’t possibly cook dinner – what if something goes wrong and she gets upset? Stress is not good for the baby. No, let Miguel do all the cooking.

She can’t clean either – let him handle it.

The point was, Miguel was an extremely protective man. He loved you more than anything. And now you were carrying the world’s most precious cargo: his son.

So why wouldn��t he treat you with the utmost care?

“Miguel, I told you, I’m fine.” You sighed, finishing your sandwich. Before you could say something, Miguel had handed you two napkins and a bottle of fresh orange juice. You took the napkins, cleaned your mouth, and he quickly grabbed a bottle of water, presenting both to you.

“Water? Juice? Which do you prefer, my love?” he asked.

You just shook your head. It was pointless to say anything. Better to simply enjoy it.

“Juice is fine.” You took the bottle and brought it to your lips, which earned a slight groan from him. Safe to say, your pregnancy had just made Miguel even more enamoured with you and your body. The accentuated curves, the softness and plushness of your skin, all for Miguel to grasp and tug and pull. Your tender breasts that had grown, and he’d already spent hours twisting and helping relieve some of your pain and soreness, your calves that often needed to be massaged – your body had always been a treasure to Miguel, but now that his child was growing inside of it, he was going to do everything in his power to love it more and more.

You looked at him; this look of his was easy to recognise. Crimson eyes low and darkened with desire, tracing every swirl of your tongue over your lips. You blushed furiously. It was flattering to know Miguel wanted you, and even more so to know both his love and lust had only increased with your pregnancy.

“Like what you see, Mister?” you asked, tilting your head, and playing coy.

Miguel loved it when you did that. It did things to him whenever you played hard to get, whenever you pretended not to know the effect you had on him.

“Very much. Te ves bien bonita,” he hummed, dipping his head low to place a kiss on your jaw. You sighed, and he took it as a sign to kiss you further, trailing down your neck.

You were just about to run your fingers through his hair when you remembered where the hell you were.

“M-Miguel!” you breathed out, slowly pulling him away from your body. “Please – we’re in public.”

“No me importa. Que vean.”

“No – Miguel, no.” You giggled and pushed him off you, earning an annoyed huff from him.

“We’re at the beach. We’re not going to give these people a show.”

“Oh, but who told you I don’t want to?” Miguel asked, raising a brow, “I’d like to show all of those idiots staring who the hell you belong to.” His voice was low and raspy, and you felt heat pool in your lower stomach. You shook your head, trying to get these nasty thoughts out of your head. This was supposed to be a nice, innocent beach date! Not fantasizing about your incredibly handsome husband.

“Well,” you spoke, “Too bad. You’re not doing anything.”

Miguel grumbled and got up, shaking his head.

“Always the same. Always ‘We’re in public Miggy!” or, ‘Don’t do that, people are watching Miguel”, or even ‘You can’t fuck me in front all of these people Miguel’!”

Your cheeks heat up and you blushed furiously, embarrassment spreading through your whole body. Your husband wasn’t talking in a particularly low tone, and people had started to look at him. More specifically, women, smirking towards him and licking their lips viciously. Your stomach was about to curl when Miguel spoke his next words, making you forget all about other people.

“One of these days I’ll take you in front of all of them, I’m telling you. Show them you’re mine.”

“Miguel!”

“What?” He turned to look at you, and you could see that stupid smirk of his plastered all over his face. It was no secret that Miguel loved to see you flustered like this.

“Don’t say that out loud, oh my god!”

“Why? It’s not like I’m lying here.” Before you could protest further, Miguel offered you a cheeky smile and nodded his head towards the water. “I’m gonna go for a dive. Do you want to come?”

You shook your head. “No, that’s fine.” It was enough for Miguel to tense up, but you were quick to reply. “It’s fine – I’ll be fine, Miguel, don’t worry. I’ll just stay here under the shade.” You tried offering him a reassuring smile. After all, you weren’t a child, and could take care of yourself just fine.

Miguel eyed you for a while, before sighing.

“Fine,” he said, “But if you need anything – “

“I’ll let you know. Don’t worry.”

“And I won’t be long. I promise. I just need to freshen up.”

“Miguel,” you said his name softly, “It’s fine. I promise I’ll be fine.”

He nodded and ran towards the water. You watched him as he looked around and the water tickled his feet.

You then looked around, taking the scenery in. It was a lovely sunny day. There were no clouds in the sky, and nothing but a small breeze could be felt brushing your hair. It was the perfect beach day, and you were so glad Miguel had taken today off to be with you. You missed him when he was gone, and although you knew what he did was extremely important (after all, your husband was Spider-Man), it was only natural to long for him when he was away. Especially with these pesky pregnancy hormones.

You returned your gaze to him, and that’s when you saw her.

A woman, eyeing Miguel up and down, shamelessly.

You raised an eyebrow. For the looks of it, it seemed as if she had been looking at him for a while. It was clear she was looking him up and down, and you felt a nasty feeling forming on your stomach, something green and envious and nasty.

The woman approached him, and your eyes lingered on her, on her perfect silhouette. Her legs were long and lean, her stomach toned, and her bikini sure did wonders showing off her boobs. Along with the jealousy you felt clawing at your skin, came another feeling, that instead of making you angry, just made you sad.

Miguel had seemed to notice her, because he turned to face her and the two started to talk. She was all smiles and giggles, tilting her head slightly and – was she actually swaying her hips? You huffed. Miguel was no stranger to flirtation. Women shot their shots with him all the time. Well, tried to. He was always quick to shut them down, mentioning his lovely wife, who happened to now be carrying his baby.

You knew him to be faithful. You knew he loved you and only you. You knew he would never hurt you or cheat on you or cause you any distress.

So why was it that you felt so unworthy of him when you two were out?

You looked at the woman again.

She was gorgeous, with perfect skin, flawless hair, and a great fucking body.

And here you were, sitting down on a chair you could barely get out of, eating a sandwich you were sure was positively disgusting to everyone else, feeling big and fat and ugly and simply not enough for him. The thought nearly brought you two tears. Miguel always assured you of how much he loved you, of how much he adored you and found you the most beautiful woman in the world.

And yet you couldn’t help but wipe away one or two tears that spilled across your cheeks, dark thoughts clouding your mind. You were surrounded by beautiful women, all of them reminding you of how much less you felt, with their perfect bodies and normal stomachs that did not weigh a ton because of the baby growing inside of them, with long legs that elegantly strutted instead of awkwardly waddling from one room to the other. Would Miguel be better off with any of these women? Would they look better on his arm, on his bed, on his life?

It was simply too much. You grabbed your nearby dress and placed it on top of your belly, hiding it. Then, you moved to grab your book, trying to focus on your reading. It was nearly impossible, and when Miguel returned after a while, you did your best not to look at him.

“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”

You refused to meet his eye.

“Mhm. Just peachy.”

“Are you cold?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Then why are you covering yourself?”

“Just protecting the baby from the heat,” you mumbled. What a terrible excuse.

Miguel hummed before you. He bent down and grabbed his towel, shaking the sand from it (away from you, of course), before setting it down on the spot next to yours, and laying on it. Now that he was up close, you could see every freckle on his body, every muscle, every droplet that fell down his arms, his legs, his back. He was as charming as ever.

And you had never felt more inadequate. Unconsciously, you brought your dress closer, hiding your chest too.

"¿Seguro que estás bien, mi vida?" Miguel asked again, looking up at you. Why the hell were you covering your body? Were you cold? It was rather warm outside, that couldn’t be it. Did you feel sick?

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

Miguel followed your eyes. They landed on the woman that had tried to strike up a conversation with him earlier.

And then everything fell into place.

The way you were hiding your body from him, the way you looked somewhere else so that you wouldn’t have to meet his gaze, how sheepishly you were acting.

And it genuinely upset Miguel. Because how could you ever think that you weren’t the most gorgeous woman out there? That your body wasn’t worthy of worship and adoration and idolisation? His fingers slowly crept up next to you, and he softly pulled the dress away from your body, exposing your belly, your thighs, your legs, your beautiful skin and being.

“Miguel, gimme that back,” you mumbled, trying to take the dress back from him. He pulled back his arm and the dress was immediately out of your reach. You huffed, hugging your hands around your body, as if you could hide it from him. You couldn’t. And Miguel was heartbroken that you thought you had to.

“Tell me what’s wrong, mami.” He said, hand caressing your thigh. He’d have to coax the insecurity out of you.

“Nothing’s wrong, I’m just cold – “

“It’s so hot, we could almost fry an egg on that cute belly of yours.” Miguel said. He wasn’t afraid to talk about your body, especially not after you’d gotten pregnant. You’d felt insecure once or twice, but he had always reassured you of how beautiful you were, and how radiant you looked, even with that big pregnant belly of yours. And for the past few months, you’d been doing amazing, feeling confident about your body, and loving your new figure and everything it meant for your future alongside Miguel. But perhaps the beach had taken some of that confidence away.

You sighed and looked away. Unfortunately for you, Miguel reached out with his hand and turned your face towards his. Nowhere to hide.

“Vale. Suelta la sopa,” he spoke.

There was nowhere to hide, nowhere to look to aside from those gorgeous chocolate-crimson eyes of his. You trusted Miguel, you really did. So why were you having such a hard time saying this? Perhaps you didn’t want him to feel like he didn’t love you enough. You knew he loved you. You knew he found you attractive. What if you thought you were being dramatic? What if he thought you were too high maintenance, still feeling insecure even though all he did was reassure you of his love? It’s not like you can help your feelings.

“I don’t want to bother you Miggy,” you replied, voice soft. “It’s fine.”

“You’ll never bother me. You know that, right? Now, come on. Tell me what’s wrong.”

You bit your bottom lip, and then nodded.

“It’s just… I just feel so…” You scrambled for words.

“Take your time,” Miguel said to reassure you.

“I feel so unworthy.”

“Unworthy? How so, mi alma?”

“I’m not – my body is not – I’ve changed, Miguel. My body has changed so much. I don’t look like them – “ you nudged your head towards the water, where the gorgeous woman had been moments ago. “And I never will. And look at you – you’re so handsome. You’ve always been. And next to you, I feel… I feel inadequate. I don’t feel beautiful enough for you… And I know what you’re gonna say. That I am, and that you love me, and that you love this child. And so do I. More than anything. But sometimes, I just feel… I feel like you’d look better with someone like that on your arm.”

Miguel listened attentively to each word you said. Just as he figured out, you were feeling down because of your appearance.

“Honey,” he started, letting go of your chin. “You are right. I will say that you look beautiful, and that you’ll always look beautiful to me.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he was quicker.

“Uh-uh – let me finish. As I was saying, you are beautiful. And I love you. Sure, your body has changed, but it has changed because you’re carrying our baby. You’re carrying a child. Mi vida, do you know how miraculous that is?” His voice was laced with nothing but adoration, and so were his eyes. “You’re carrying a life inside of you. You’re going to bring a life into this world. That is such a beautiful thing. Your body has simply stretched to accommodate our little one. And that is such a lovely thing. It’s a miracle, mi vida. You’re a miracle.”

Your eyes quickly filled with tears, and Miguel cupped your face with both of his hands.

“I couldn’t care less about other women. Whatever they have, whatever they might offer, it will never compare to what you offer me every day. To the love you so selflessly give me every single day, to the greatest gift you’re about to give me. A child. You’re going to bring my child into the world. You say you feel inadequate next to me – Mierda, I feel inadequate next to you. You have chosen me to be the father of your child, and you’re doing all of this to carry it and bring it to the world safely. And all I can do is watch. I can’t take away your pain, I can’t take away your discomfort. I’m the lucky one. I mean – hell, you could’ve had any guy in the world, but you chose me. You chose this awkward, nerdy, standoffish man who couldn’t even tell you he loved you the first time he kissed you because he was so bad dealing with his own feelings.”

You giggled as you recalled the memory, and your heart warmed. Miguel laughed along with you. He’d come very far with you. He was a man of logic, of reason, never letting emotions cloud his judgement. Which made everything infinitely harder when he met you – you, who broke down his walls and made it impossible to think and be reasonable. He’d come so far, and it was all thanks to you.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me,” Miguel continued. “This child is the greatest thing that could ever happen to us. I know that I can’t take away your insecurities just like this. And it kills me that you can’t see yourself the way I do. But please, please believe me when I tell you that you are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen in my life. The kindest, smartest. The most miraculous of them all, carrying a child all by yourself.”

Tears ran down your cheeks, and you sobbed softly. Miguel scooted closer to you, and with his help, you got up from your chair and sat down on his lap. His arms were instantly all over you, one of them bringing you close, the other trailing patterns on top of your stomach.

“I just… I feel so ugly sometimes… And then we came to the beach, and it was supposed to be a lovely day just between the two of us, but then I saw that woman, and she looked gorgeous, and I’ll never be her…” You said in between sobs.

Miguel caressed your head and dropped a kiss on your forehead.

“You forgot the most important part.”

You looked up, confusion in your features.

“She will never be you.”

Your eyes widened softly, and you parted your lips.

“She will never be the woman I love. She will never be the woman who puts up with me every day, even when I’m cranky and grouchy. She will never be the woman who wakes me up with kisses in the morning because she wants me to start my day in the best way possible. She’ll never be the woman who packs my lunch and writes sweet notes. She will never be the woman who loves me unconditionally despite my many, many flaws. She will never be you. Never.”

You smiled through your tears and the invisible rope that tugged at Miguel’s heart loosened its hold. You were smiling. Thank God.

“She’ll never be me?” You repeated.

“No one will ever be you.” He replied, closing the gap between your faces, and taking your lips in his. You kissed him softly, cupping his jaw with your hand and trailing your fingers through his head with the other. When you pulled away for air, there were tears in your eyes once again.

“I’m sorry for being like this… Sometimes, the hormones, they just…”

Miguel quickly cut you off.

“You don’t need to apologize. I will never get tired of saying how much I love you, of telling you how much you mean to me. It’s okay to not be fine. Isn’t that what you tell me?”

You nodded with a small smile.

“Then I’m telling it to you too. It’s okay to feel like this. And I know I can’t understand the depth of your feelings. I can’t know for sure what you’re going through. But I’ll always be by your side. I’ll always be right here to help you. I love you, honey. I really do. I’m the luckiest man alive.”

If someone were to tell you a few years ago that Miguel would be capable of saying these sorts of things, you’d have scoffed and told them to fuck off. When you met him, Miguel didn’t do feelings. He never opened up, never spoke about himself or his emotions. But then you came along and taught him how to feel, how to love. You taught him it was okay to be vulnerable, to be taken care of, to be loved. You loved him all the more for it, your scary, mean, giant of a man who turned into putty whenever his eyes landed on you.

“I love you. Thank you so much for this. I mean it.” You said, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled like the beach, like the soft breeze and the warm sun. You placed a kiss there and smiled as soon as the salt of the water hit your tongue.

“I’ve told you, mi vida. I’ve got you.” He said, still tracing patterns on your skin. “I’ll always be here for you. I love you.”

You two remained like this, in each other’s arms for a while.

You didn’t feel the need to get up or go for a swim. Not yet.

For now, all you wanted was to stay in your husband’s arms, feel his heartbeat against yours, sink further into his touch. You looked up and took in the scenery around you. The shining sun, the clear blue sky, the sparkly water. You watched as young couples smiled at each other, groups of friends played around, and families ran after their children. Someday, it’d be you and Miguel, along with your little one.

You realised you didn’t feel insecure anymore. Miguel was right. It was a miraculous thing, to be carrying such a precious thing inside of you. Your child. Miguel’s child. The product of the love and devotion you held for each other. You couldn’t be ashamed of that, could you?

You knew this would be an uphill battle. Your insecurities couldn’t be erased simply overnight. But with Miguel’s arms wrapped tightly around you, you realised that as long as you had him to remind you of all the beautiful things you and this body meant, and how much you two loved each other, it would be okay.

You would be okay.

A/N: And that's it! I hope you guys have enjoyed this little drabble.

Have a wonderful day ahead, everyone!!! <3

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara scenarios #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara fanfiction #spiderman 2099 #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara x f!reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #astv x reader #atsv x you #across the spiderver fanfiction #across the spiderverse #miguel spiderman #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse fanfiction #spiderverse x you

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sluts4matt · 12 days

Note

please please please im begging you with my whole heart to write a fluffy chris sickfic one where y/n gets a cold and he takes care of her for the whole day im on my hands and knees atp 🫶🏼

no smut please im just craving comfort atm but wtv you want sweets

i love you to the stars baby 💗🫵🏼

SICK DAY - CHRIS

pairing: chris sturniolo x columbian!reader

summary: you had been sick the past two days, both of those days your boyfriend has been right by your side.

warnings: a cougar-panther joke, fluff.

word count: 894

authors note: i'm sorry forgive me anon 🙏 i'm so shit at getting through request but i'm trying i swear. p.s this is kinda short but i wrote it during one of my breaks

you grabbed a tissue from the box next to you, blowing your nose for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. "are you sure you don't need anything?" chris mutters from next to you, carding his fingers through your hair.

"i'm sure, just lay here with me," you mumble, nuzzling into his chest further. you had felt like absolute shit, your fever being over 102 degrees. you turned your face, sneezing into your arm before going back to nuzzling your face in his chest.

"bless you," he murmured, picking a movie for the two of you. "i'm gonna doordash some food," he stated as you felt his body shift as he moved to grab his phone.

"mkay," you whispered, closing your eyes and listening to his heartbeat.

"do you want anything specific?" he asks causing you to shrug.

"nah, just whatever," you mutter, letting out a soft sigh as he places a kiss on the top of your head.

"you feeling any better, love?" he asks, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "no," you frown, watching his fingers click on his phone screen. "kanes?" he asks, looking over at you.

you nod your head, knowing he already knew your order and you wouldn't have to tell him. "okay, baby," he coos, kissing your head again. "i'm ordering it now," he mumbles.

"can you not get me fries this time? i don't want them," you state, and he nods his head. "that's fine," he smiles.

he places the order, setting his phone down. "thirty minutes," he states, embracing you with his arms.

you felt your body melt into them, "i love your hugs," you whisper, "i love you," he mumbles back.

you smile, nuzzling into his chest once more. you feel his hands slide up your back, rubbing at your tense shoulders as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear. "you're so pretty," he states, a grin tugging on his lips.

"thank you," you mumble, heat going to your cheeks. you tilt your head slightly as he messages your shoulders making the boy grin.

he leans down, pressing soft kisses to the top of your shoulder as he messages. "i love you, so much," he murmurs.

you let out a hum, your eyes fluttering shut as he pressed kisses to your skin. his kisses slowly moved up your shoulder, and he placed one kiss behind your ear before going back down.

"get some rest," he says, and you let out a soft hum, letting your eyes flutter shut.

you didn't know how long it was, but soon you were being gently shaken awake by chris, "y/n," he said quietly, "foods here," he said and you looked over at the boy.

he was smiling at you, his eyes shining with love and affection, "what?" you mutter sleepily, rubbing your eyes.

"the foods here," he repeated, and you nod your head, "mkay," you say, slowly sitting up. he places the bag in between you two as he climbs back into bed.

"chicken nuggets," he says, handing you the box then ranch. "and a strawberry lemonade," he finished, handing you the cold beverage. you take a small drink, wincing as it stings going down your throat.

"are you okay?" he asks, rubbing your back. you nod your head, "sick," you remind jokingly.

he nods his head, a small chuckle leaving his lips. the two of you start to eat, you had barely eaten all day, so the food tasted delicious.

"gracias guapo," you smile, looking at chris. he nods his head with a smile, "of course ma," he smiles, putting on a car's movie for the two of you to watch.

you smile at your boyfriend, "i love you," you state, "you're the best," you kiss his cheek.

"i love you too," he chuckles, taking a sip of his pepsi. he takes a bite out of his chicken sandwich, looking over at you.

"you look like you're pondering your thoughts," he chuckles, nudging your leg with his own.

"would you love me if i were a spider?" you asks. chris had heard the question a million times so him rolling his eyes didn't surprise you in the slightest even if it had brought a pout to your lips.

"i've told you this, yes, you'd be my pet," he states, "but what if i were like... a black widow.. or.. or a bird eating spider," you state, a cough leaving your lungs.

"just make sure i keep a better eye on you so you don't get loose," he laughs. "i would still love you and you'd be my pet," he says before biting into his sandwich once again.

you grin, nodding your head. "okay," you state. "what's your favorite potato?" he asks, causing you to giggle. "you already know this," you shake your head, "but mashed."

"child," he states, "cougar," you fire back, making him huff. chris had been a year older so it was an ongoing joke that he was a cougar and you were a panther.

"oh hush," he states, playfully shoving your face away.

after a while, the food had digested and the movie was almost over. "do you see yourself with me in a year?" chris asks, drawing circles into your hips.

"and many more to come," you mumble, letting out a hum as he continued to rub.

"that's good," he smiles, "mhm."

tag list:

@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolohoe @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chriss @l5ka @strombolilovr @raysmayhem-72

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aesthetic-bbyg · 9 months

Text

SMOOTH OPERATOR- TOM K.

Tom Kaulitz x chola!reader

in which you and a group of friends walk into a convince store in LA only for you to end up crushing on the German boy buying beer and candy.

Nattie speaks: I came up with this while listening to music hehehehe. I was also torn between braids or dreads but ultimately I chose braids🤞

TOM SHUFFLED ACROSS the aisle of the gas station, eyes wandering across the variety of candy and occasionally glancing down at the crumpled up paper in his hand, scribbles of what everyone wanted hardly readable. He wasn’t familiar of the area, only being in LA for a few days for the tour but he was still sent off to find all the necessity’s to survive in the hotel a little longer. His black glasses were shoved up onto his hat, braids swinging down his back with each step while also pulling his baggy pants up. His hands were full of chips, candy, cookies, now his vision was directed towards the back freezers were the beer was stored.

Off in the distance he could hear a faint buzz, a booming sound of music being heard from a mile away and it only got closer. The lyrics of a Tupac song echoed into the store, a mixture of boys and girls stumbling in loudly. The one holding stereo grinned innocently, lowering down the music as the clerk behind the counter glared at him. Two girls trailed in after, you and your best friend, Alejandra, pinkies interlocked as you whispered about some teen pregnancy that happened downtown.

“Hurry up, or I ain’t getting you nothin’.” Your brother, Manuel, demanded, heading towards the food. His hair was slicked back, far too much gel layed on his dark locks to stick it in place.

The two of you headed down to the back, immediately searching for the cold drinks, you sharp eyes looked around the glass doors of different beverages. You gasped suddenly, wrapping your fingers around the metal handle of the door and pulling it open. A fresh breeze blew onto your body, contrasting against the hot sun that beamed brightly just outside. “Damn, Jandra!” Your friend jogged by you with curious eyes. “They released a sandía version of the Arizona Teas!” A big grin filled your face, grabbing the red tin can.

“Shiit.” Alejandra smiled, “Alright, you get the sandía and I get the mango, just so we got options.” You nodded, closing the door as someone walked behind you. You looked over your shoulder instinctively, catching sight of a tall boy, adorned in baggy clothing, a bandana wrapped along his hairline and long cornrows.

Tom had also taken notice of you the moment you stepped into the store, he turned to catch a better look but was met with your own eyes. For a moment, time slowed, both of gazed kept on each other, waiting for the other to look away. In the end, his eyes were lost behind a shelf, but you could see the way his lips quirked up into a smirk before he walked into the chip aisle.

You nudged Alejandra, removing her attention from the kids juice box section. You subtly nodded over to the boy who stood a few feet away, grabbing a bag of salty snacks. “He’s cute.” You whispered, Alejandra nodded in agreement smiling over at you knowingly. “Should ask I for his number?”

“Do it.” The girl giggled, revealing her pearly teeth that were caged behind a pair of braces. But, before you could walk over he began to make his way to the front, breezing past your brother and his group of friends who were going ham on the condiments. You huffed, walking by your brother to get a better look at him but still keeping it nonchalant. Your hands were inching towards a bag of Hot Cheetos, you brother loudly chewed on his hotdog, you stared over at him with a disgusted face. Alejandra opened up a bag of hot Cheetos, filling it up with cheese from the nacho section. You joined her, doing the same till your ear picked up a brewing commotion.

“In the United States you need to be 21 to buy beer.” The old clerk lectured, angrily glaring at the boy in front of him, a ID slipped on the counter that showed all of the mysterious cute boys information.

“But I am 19,” He pointed at the date of birth stated on the card, “that’s legal everywhere else, just let me have them.” The boy argued back, a thick accent in the back of his throat while he flailed his arms angrily.

“But we’re not anywhere else, we’re in the United States, it’s the law, kid.” The braid-haired boy groaned, taking back his ID and leaving behind the pack of beers, cursing under his breath in german. At that point the commotion had caught the attention of all the group. You stared as he stomped out the store, bag full of other snacks in his hands. Your brother and his friends snickered amongst eachother, you shoved his shoulder with a stern look.

“Yo, do him a solid and get them.” You muttered, your brother stared down at you, expression laid back and careless like usual, but he raised a brow.

“You gon’ pay for it o que?” (Or what) He questioned, “Cuz, I’m already payin’ for whatever you and Jandra got there, I ain’t spending my money on nothin’ more.”

You rolled your eyes, stuffing your hands into your pocket and pulling out the last bit of cash you had on you, placing it in his open palm. He smirked smugly, walking to get a pack before making his way upfront, the things got paid for, the cashier asking the same questions of did you find everything okay? as always, though his miserable tone was pitiful. As soon as you and the group stepped out the store, your brothers friend cranked up the volume on the stereo again, the song blasting from the speaker. From a distance you could see the same boy, leaned up against the ice machine, his snacks still in hand while the other held a cigarette between his fingers. His dark glasses protecting his eyes from the lowering sun.

Alejandra smiled at you, passing the pack of cold beers before cheering you on silently. You looked back at her before jogging over to the tall boy. “Yo, got these for you.” For a moment he just stared at you confusingly, cigarette burning down as the seconds ticked by. “I saw what happened in there, but don’t worry, we always got each others backs here in LA.”

You’d begun to think that maybe he didn’t understand you, he did have a thick, foreign accent while speaking earlier which made you assume that he may have a limited English vocabulary. You weren’t sure, but it made you nervous and awkwardly shuffle from side to side. But finally, he dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his shoes and lifting his sunglasses from his enchanting irises. He grabbed the pack, a smirk on forming on his pierced lips. “Thank you, beautiful, what’s your name?”

You liked his confidence, the nickname immediately making your smile and lean your head to the side flirtatiously. “Y/n, and you?”

“Tom.” He replied swiftly, eyes examining your body. The tight white tank top that hugged your skin, the baggy Dickies that belong to your brother hung low on your waist being kept up by a black belt, your ears gleaming with large silver hoops. You had a few tattoos scattered across the exposed skin he could see, your eyebrows were thinly drawn on, lips lined with a dark shade of brown. He liked you, adored your style. “You’re gorgeous.”

“Thanks.” You bit your lip, looking up at him through your lashes. “You fine as hell too, that’s why I wanted to ask for your number.”

“Yeah?” Tom lowly questioned, his shit-eating smirk only getting bigger. “Well you’ve got it, gorgeous.” He set down the beers, reaching for his phone in his deep pockets. You exchanged numbers, conversing a little longer, pulling all the flirty comments you could think of. You got him to chuckle a few times before he revealed that he was in town with his band.

“I like your glasses.” You hands reached forward, grabbing them from his head and placing them on your face. “Damn, these nice as fuck.”

He chuckled softly, staring at you. “Keep them.” You looked over at him, lowering the glasses to make sure that he meant it and wasn’t playing with you. “Gives me a reason to see your pretty face again.”

“Damn.” You stared at him happily before a loud horn blasted from behind you, you rolled your eyes, glancing back to see your brother looking back at you from red the low-rider car seat. “I gotta go, but call me guapo.” You smirked, waving your hand before walking towards the car. Alejandra smirked as she saw your happy express when you hopped in the open-roofed car. Tom eyes never left you as the car pulled away from the gas station and sped down the road, the whole vehicle vibrating as a rap song shrieked out the speakers.

“Who was that vato you were talkin’ to?” Manuel questioned, looking back at you from the rear-view mirror with a raised brow.

“None of ya’ business, mitotero.” You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, head turning to stare out into the road, the harsh wind whipping through your hair. Alejandra smirked, leaning in closer to your ear.

“So, did you get it?” Your friend watched as your lips twitched, teeth coming out to bite back the grin that threatened to show. She giggled, shaking your body lightly. “Ohh, girl, you got that look of looove.”

“He fine as hell but love is a little much.” You replied, looking over at her with a mischievous smile. “He gave him his glasses, though.” You pull them from your head and passed them to her as she gawked at them.

“A la madre, this is some of that nice shit.” She examined it closely, staring at the Ray-ban logo printed on the side. Just then you felt a buzz on your thigh, you looked down at the phone as it lit up with a notification, an unknown number texted you. Immediately you opened it and smiled, Tom had texted you, a flirty greeting topped with a winky face. “I assume it your man textin’?”

“Cállate.” You turn your phone off, stuffing it in the side pocket of your pants. The text was only the first of many, Tom taking more interest in you the longer you talked, it wasn’t long till he’d taken you to his hotel room.

“Shit, fool.” You mumbled, tightening the belt around your waist as Tom chuckled, being the only audience member of your fashion show, aka you trying on his stupidly baggy clothes. “How so you wear this stuff everyday.”

He shrugged, throwing his hands up slightly. “I am a big man, I need big clothes.”

“No shit.” You scoffed, turning towards the mirror and staring at the huge shirt that looked more like a dress. “Should I wear this to the carne asada?”

“I think you should wear nothing, you’re sexier that way.” The Kaulitz boy smirked, doing that thing where he fiddled with the black piercing on his lip. You rolled your eyes and walked back into the closet, ignoring his comments as you dug through more of his clothes. In a few hours you and Tom would have to arrive at your tíos carne asada, Tom being requested to join by non other then your mother.

Tom was already dressed and splayed out on the seat, just watching as you struggled to find something, which why you ended digging through his clothes. It took an half hour before you came out satisfied, grinning widely as you put on your silver hoops.

The real problem came the moment you stepped in the backyard, your tíos home full of guest that you knew and some you didn’t. Either way a handful of them came up to with same comments how old you looked and how big you’ve gotten. Manuel came up with his little gang that constantly followed him around, it took him the longest to get sue to Tom. Though, it wasn’t long before your brother and Tom became friends.

“Wassup, ese.” Manuel he held a corona beer in his hand, using his free one to grab clap against Tom’s and bring him in for a swift chest bump. Then you ran into your mother, her expression going from a stern glare to a huge smile. Everything had went smooth so far, you were happy to be there, until a familiar voice squealed from behind you.

“Tomas! Mi Niño, mira que guapo té vez!” Your mother chanted, bringing him into a tight hug and planting her calloused hands on his cheek, he smiled shyly at her affection. The boy had grown to be a favorite, his charisma and cute looks making him popular with the tías.

“Mama, he just got here from Germany a couple days ago, está cansado, we just gonna sit and chill.” You attempted to reason with the woman, staring at your boyfriend apologetically. But you’d only made the situation worse, she gasped dramatically, looking back at the boy and ushering him to a table. She’s explained everything to all of the tías, which lead to him being taken care of for most of the night. He was constantly being checked up on, being handed plates of food, being talked to about the latest scandal of the neighborhood, it left you sitting with Alejandra, on the other side of the backyard.

“Que tienes, amiga?” The dark haired girl questioned, staring at your frowning face and squinted eyes. She could practically feel the heat of annoyance radiating of you.

“They took my fucking man!”

heheheheh, this just a short little thang I decided to write bc why not,🤷‍♀️y’all already know that Tom would have the aunties in a CHOKEHOLD!! I also had to rewrite the last half of this bc I forgot to save it so sorry if any parts of it seem rushed or short!

#tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #Tom Kaulitz x reader #chola #Tom Kaulitz x you #Latina #mexicana #Tom Kaulitz imagine #2000s #tom Kaulitz braids era

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mizunoyouni · 7 months

Text

ੈ♡₊˚•. Pale Blue Melody

· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Pairing - Kamisato Ayato x fem! Reader

₊˚♡⋆˚ Summary - After months of hard work and endless meetings, you and Ayato finally find some quiet time to relax together over some tea and sweets; courtesy of Thoma. It's in that moment you are reminded what it is exactly about your husband that makes your heart swell.

.°˖✧˚ Content - 3.1k fluffy + flowery words, Reader is referred to as "wife" and "my lady" + established relationship. Suggestiveness towards the end, but nothing explicit. Thoma + Ayaka cameo/mentioned. Lots of teasing and banter.

"Let's see... sakura mochi, tricolour dango, berry mizu manjuu..."

Thoma listed each item as he carefully set the plates of food onto the low table in front of you with a smile on his lips. Spring had descended upon Inazuma, dusting the lands in soft pink petals while conducting a symphony of chirps and hums from the wildlife that served as your morning wake up call and nightly lullaby. But with a new season came new responsibilities and tasks to be fulfilled, and you soon found your daily schedule each day was packed tighter than the adorable bento boxes Thoma sent along with you for lunch in between your meetings.

Which had led you to the position you were in currently— sitting comfortably outside, enjoying the sunlight and perfect blue sky as Thoma set up a table full of sweets and refreshments before you. He kept insisting that you sit back and relax while he meticulously adjusted each plate, teacup, and napkin as if this occasion was something akin to his latest magnum opus. Such a display laid out on the veranda was something that had become an uncommon sight in the Kamisato estate, especially with the combined hectic schedules of both you and Ayato often keeping the two of you away from home for days and sometimes weeks at a time as you each tended to your own separate duties. In a way, you were like two birds leaving the nest early each morning to go their own way, only returning home in the dead of night for rest and a quick meal. And needless to say, the change of pace hadn't gone unnoticed by Thoma's watchful eyes.

"Oh, and I can't forget the butterfly pea tea!" The blond housekeeper proudly announced, grinning widely, and you couldn't help but smile along with his contagious happiness.

"It's the new trend in Inazuma City to serve this tea with edible flowers. I thought both my lady and my lord would enjoy it, seeing that you've both been working so hard recently," he explained, clearly invested in the beautiful blue beverage he presented to you in a dainty glass teacup.

And so continued his happy ramblings detailing the herbal properties of said beverage, his search for the specific tea, his failed attempts in brewing just the right shade of pale blue, and his long journey of seeking out the perfect pearly flowers that would adorn your cups of liquid sky. Part of you wanted to suggest that Thoma sell his tea adventure story to the Yae publishing house as an idea for a new light novel, but you decided against it for Thoma’s sake.

"Is that so? Well, I'm glad you're so enthusiastic about it. It seems almost like you've been planning this for weeks," you say, trying not to laugh at Thoma's slightly startled expression upon hearing your words. He was like a surprised puppy— his posture straightening up immediately, his eyes widening, and the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of red at the realization that he had been caught.

"Ah, well, I just thought that ever since last month, the two of you haven’t been home very often! Even if you both insist that work comes first, sometimes you need a break!" came his hurried response as he shifted in his seat beside you, quickly placing the last of the flowers into your cup in a feeble attempt to distract your attention.

“So you have been planning this for weeks.”

The sound of amused chuckling caught the attention of the two of you, and you both turned to see Ayato in all his prim and proper attire approaching with a smirk gracing his lips as he overheard the admission.

"My lord!" Thoma quickly jumped to his feet and bowed in greeting while Ayato continued grinning at the housekeeper smugly. "I-I... suppose you could say that..."

"I see, so that’s why you kept asking about our weekly schedules lately. You were trying to squeeze in an afternoon tea break for us," you laughed along with your husband, who also found the situation to be quite entertaining in his eyes, much to the blond’s embarrassment.

“We must thank you for this fine arrangement,” Ayato smiled, taking his seat across from you at the low table. “Will you join us for a few bites before returning to your duties?”

Thoma shook his head, his face still tinged with the slightest bit of red. “I’m afraid not. I’m scheduled to accompany Lady Ayaka to Ritou later today, so I’ll need to leave soon in order to escort her there.”

“Ah, a pity, but duty calls. We won’t keep you any longer then.”

And with that, the blond head of your trustworthy housekeeper quickly disappeared from the veranda where you and Ayato comfortably sat in the cool shade of spring, basking in the fresh floral notes and sweet aroma of the generous foods laid out before you. Thoma had truly outdone himself this time, not only in the visual presentation of everything, but also in pairing such flavors together to ensure an enjoyable time leisurely snacking and chatting. It was commendable, the way he had brewed the tea to just the right shade of blue that it seemed to rival the tranquility of the calm blue sky, or the way he had prepared the sakura mochi and tricolour dango that left you wondering if in another life, was Thoma perhaps a sakura blossom spirit? Because how else was he able to capture that soft, delicate hue of pink?

“Quite the dependable housekeeper, isn’t he?” Ayato finally asked after a few moments of watching you observe the fruits of Thoma’s labor.

“He’s always been. Although, I think he’s surpassed any, if not all expectations at this point,” you say with a smile before you take a tiny sip of the pale blue tea that had captivated you from the moment Thoma poured the sparkling liquid into your cup.

“Oh, don’t fall for him now. I might have to fire him if he causes my wife to stray away from me.” There wasn’t a single hint of malice in Ayato’s voice as he teased you lightheartedly. After years of being married to the man, it was evident that he loved to gently poke fun and share hushed laughs with you, rain or shine.

“We both know the Kamisato estate would fall into ruins if anything happens to Thoma,” you quip back, trying to bite back a smile, although your attempt proved rather futile and Ayato was able to catch your wide smile while he leisurely chewed on a piece of sakura mochi.

“Hm… perhaps you’re right. He does end up taking on more responsibilities than your typical housekeeper,” he agrees, feigning deep thought over the topic before he quickly let it dissolve away like powdered sugar on his tongue. “But enough talk about our wonderful housekeeper. How have you been fairing lately? Any personal plans you have scheduled? I could use another self indulgent activity as a palate cleanser from my countless meetings, you know.”

“Sounds like you just want to skip out on meetings,” you point out and you watch in amusement as Ayato throws you a pout before returning to his plate of sweets.

“Would it be such a crime for me to want to spend time with my lovely wife?” came his witty response. His lavender eyes narrowed at you, practically daring you to throw another playful remark his way.

Relenting, you sigh in defeat, your smile still on your lips as you carefully observe the floating flowers in your teacup for a few moments. The slightly translucent petals shimmered and dipped below the surface, dancing in your cup as they performed a private show, just for you. And you had half the mind to just sit and admire its beauty, finding it almost too dazzling to waste on the arbitrary act of drinking.

“I suppose not,” you finally say while Ayato wears a look of triumph on his face. “But if you insist, then I’d like you to accompany me tomorrow as I shop for a new kimono for the Irodori Festival in a few weeks. I want to look my best standing next to you.”

To that, he slightly perked up, interested in your proposal. “Shopping for a new kimono? And you want me to come along?”

“Well, I wouldn’t dream of wearing one my husband finds unflattering,” you laugh, and his lips mirror the smile on your lips.

“We can’t have you wearing a kimono that doesn’t highlight your beauty, can we? I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let that happen,” he chuckles.

“Hm, you’re almost making me feel like I’m a doll that's to be dressed up and made pretty by you.”

“Doll or not, you are my beautiful doll. And don’t take this as an empty act of lip service, but you could choose to wear a burlap sack and you would still be the most beautiful person I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Ayato proclaimed proudly, leaning his face against the palm of his hand. If you looked closely, you could see the twinkling in his lavender eyes.

A stuttered breath left your lips as his honeyed words filled you with warmth— the same warmth that had enveloped all of Inazuma for the past month as the seasons shifted and the days grew longer. It’s the warmth that lives inside your chest, keeping you warm and wrapping you in a protective embrace during the nights when Ayato cannot return to your shared bed and lay next to you while you sleep. It’s warmth that gives you confidence and strength on days where it seems that all hope has been drained from your body, lifting up your spirits from the depths of despair. But most importantly, it’s the warmth that fuels your soul, touching your heart and painting it a brilliant blue— proof of your attachment to your other half.

You shake your head at his overly affectionate words, wondering when he found the time to practice such romantic lines in his head.

“And there you go again being so sickly sweet to me…” you mutter as you shake your head.

“As if you’d prefer any other treatment,” he says with a smirk, and his gloved hand holds out his teacup to yours in a mock toast, the dainty glass clinking against each other softly, singing of the bond between the two of you.

“You know me too well,” you admit, and his smirk only grows wider.

“And if I didn’t? The thought alone is too horrid to imagine.”

Ayato chuckles as you smile along with him in silent agreement, not having a single comment to dispute his word. And as a quiet, comfortable silence drapes over the two of you like a soft blanket, you think to yourself that there is hardly any other place in the world you’d like to be in. If only you could have more days like this— a lazy afternoon sipping on liquid sky, enveloped by the sweet aroma of spring, and kissed with honeyed words as they blossom from your husband’s lips. But alas, you knew that this peaceful moment would soon come to an end, as all things would, and your life would return to days consisting of endless meetings you would be stuck in, sleeping next to the ghost of your husband, and longing for spring to return once again. That is, at least until the end of this busy period.

“You know, I really love these back and forths we have,” Ayato finally says after a few moments in a noticeably softer tone. It was the voice he only used when he was alone with you, usually in the comfort of your shared bedroom, away from all eyes except for the moonlight peeking through the window as the only witness to your nightly conversations.

“Because nobody else dares to challenge your word?” you ask, raising an eyebrow as his attention turns to the butterfly pea tea in his teacup.

Swirling the shimmering blue liquid, his eyes darted to the surface of the drink, refusing to make eye contact with you.

“Truthfully, I’m not a man who is often denied what he wishes for,” he starts. “Even when I became the head of the Kamisato clan at a young age, hardly any of my servants ever told me ‘no.’ If anything, it was more pressure than I could imagine. Because even if I made a bad proposal, many wouldn’t even dare to advise against it.”

Slowly, he lifted his cup and took a sip of the tea, his eyes locked on you the whole time before his lips finally parted from the edge of his teacup and he set it back down gently on the table.

“So you can imagine my delight to find a wife who can stand confidently beside me. I love that you are your own person. It’s what drew me to you, and I’ll never wish for that aspect of you to change.”

Ayato’s gloved hand found yours and he gently brought your knuckles to his smooth lips, kissing your hand slowly and you couldn’t help but feel your heart skip a beat when he playfully winked at you, clearly noticing how his words had affected you. Years of marriage to this man, and he always caused the butterflies in your stomach to flutter. It made you wonder if by the time the two of you had grown old and wrinkly, would he still be teasing you lovingly in such a lovesick manner?

A soft sigh escaped your lips as Ayato released your hand and chuckled softly at your sheepish expression from his sudden burst of flowery words that threatened to suffocate you.

“Such sweet words from a man of such high position would cause any onlooker to doubt your image,” you say at last, trying desperately to direct his attention away from the bubbling feeling that was brewing in your chest.

But to your dismay, his smile only grew as he leaned forward, looking mischievously at you with a smug expression gracing his features before he held your chin between his fingers. You knew that expression all too well— it was the same face he wore during hot pot nights right before he put in an odd array of ingredients, a misfortune that you and Thoma often found yourselves the victims of. Trouble was brewing, you were sure of it.

“And I’d think that if anyone heard of the words that leave your lips while we are in private, oh that would certainly stir up some gossip,” he purred.

“Ayato!” you blurt out and quickly swat his hand away, watching as he bathed in your startled expression as if it was his favorite pastime.

“Oh, don’t deny it, my love. You’re certainly no saint behind closed doors.”

You groan softly at your husband's antics and with shaky hands, you lift your teacup to your lips, desperately hoping a sip of the herbal tea would calm your beating heart and remedy the red that you were sure was dusting your face by now.

“A-and neither are you. Considering the amount of filthy words that leave your mouth when we are behind said closed doors, the shrine maidens should wash your mouth out with holy water…” you say, willing your voice to remain calm in order to deny your husband of any teasing comments he might think up.

Nervously, you watch as he tilts his head in mock innocence, giving you an amused look that does all but scream that he is up to no good.

“And what of when I do not use words?”

You can hear his hearty laugh as you choke on your tea, spilling a few pale blue drops onto the table before you’re sent into a coughing fit, all red faced and short of breath from his relentless teasing and the bits of liquid sky entering your lungs. You swear your heart stutters, and you see stars for just a fraction of a second, before you resist the urge to reach over and shove more sakura mochi into your husband's mouth to put an end to his teasing barrage that threatened to plant a garden of flowers where your heart should be.

When you finally recover from your coughing spell, you shift your gaze from your teacup to Ayato’s smiling face. He’s resting his chin on his palm now, his pale blue hair framing his face nicely as it always does. His lavender eyes had been trained on you the whole time, watching you with soft admiration. His lips were no longer held in the smirk that was plastered on his face moments before, but rather, they were softly painted with a smile that reminded you of the first snow of winter— gentle, soft, and kind.

In the shade of the veranda, and in the warm spring afternoon, you wonder if maybe you were dreaming— dreaming of the man sitting in front of you, dreaming of the delicious sweets prepared for the two of you by your housekeeper, dreaming of the life you were currently living. And after a few more moments of staring into your husband’s eyes, you wonder what exactly it is about him that makes your heart beat out of tune, skipping around as if it were singing acapella despite the perfectly timed chords resonating inside you. You blink, and he flashes you a closed eyed smile, and suddenly, it hits you all at once.

It’s the combination of the blue of your husband’s hair, the blue of the Inazuman sky, and the blue of your spilled tea that all string together to form that heart stopping pale blue melody that echoes in your head and guides your heart. It’s those blues that silently put you at ease whenever you feel restless, swaddling you like a child and rocking you back and forth comfortingly. And it’s the same blues that keep you company whenever you are away from Ayato, giving you ghostly kisses in his place until he can return to your side. It’s that specific shade of blue that you always look for in crowds, hoping to find his tall figure somewhere in the sea of faces. Blue— that’s the colour you’ve decided for your new kimono. It’s the colour of the skies that grace your beloved nation, the shade of your husband’s soft hair, the hue of your spilled tea, and the colour that has evidently painted your heart, signaling to anyone and everyone around you that you are a person deeply, helplessly in love.

Yes, that’s it. It’s that pale blue melody that sings of your love for Kamisato Ayato. To others, he is the Yashiro commissioner, or even simply a brother, or a lord, but to you, he is your husband, your lover, and the man who constantly threatens to drown you in his bed of soft blue flowers that he has molded perfectly to the shape of your body. And for better or for worse, you hope deep down inside that this pale blue melody never stops playing as long as you continue to breathe. Because it's one thing to hold your lover's heart close to yours, and other to have both of them beating to the same rhythm during every waking and dreaming moment.

୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ Author's note - Can you tell that I'm hopelessly in love with this man? My first fic, so I hope I've portrayed Ayato accurately... if not, then this is all just my silly little delusion.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x female reader #genshin x female reader #ayato x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato fluff #‧₊˚✩彡 miya writes

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