#happy x reader
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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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SOA eating out
how some of the SOA boys like to eat your out.
Warnings: smut, Freader, eating out.
Juice, Jax, Opie, Happy
smut bellow
Juice:
He loves when you sit on his face. His tongue licking up to your clit and sucking softly on the bud before dipping back down to your dripping hole and tongue fucking you tell you cum for the 3rd time. His arms wrapped around your thighs to hold you down as you squirm and struggle to keep yourself steady. He loved to hear you whine and moan, telling him it’s too much, you can't cum again. He makes you anyway just to hear your sweet sounds again.
Juice likes to give you words of encouragement and praise since he wants to keep seeing you cum again again.
“So wet for me baby, can’t wait for me to make your pretty pussy feel good?”
“Such a good girl, so good you can handle another right?”
“You can do it, cum on my tongue again okay baby girl?”
Jax:
Enjoys missionary. On his stomach between your soft tights as he teases your pussy with lazy pumps of his fingers and kitten-like licks to your clit. He loves to watch from between your tights as you begged and whined for him to give you more. Once he finally replaces his fingers for his tongue and soft licking, to his rough finger circling your clit you were done for. Your hands in his hair, pulling to keep him as close as possible as you rode out right high.
Teasing is how Jax’s favorite form of torture, Watching you get all flustered and needy when his touch just isnt enough as he smirks at you waiting for you to start begging.
“What's wrong sweetheart, Too much? Need to cum?”
“I know you can last longer, you can do that for me right doll?”
“since you were so desperate to cum you can give me a few more right sweetheart?”
Opie:
Opie actually likes to eat you out in whatever way he can but since he is a tall guy and tends to tower over most of his partners, he likes to be on knees with you against a wall or a dresser to have some leverage with one leg slung over his shoulder. He holds you firm in place by one hand on the hip not on his shoulder as he sucks and licks you through another body tingling orgasm. Hands tangle in his hair as you try to keep steady.
Opie’s almost begs you to cum, over and over like he needs you to. Like he just needs to taste you.
“C’mon baby, cum for me.”
“You taste so good, so wet you're dripping.”
“Your perfect pussy can give me more than that right baby? You can come again for me.”
Happy:
Happy likes Missionary, holding your thighs open and keeping you still with an arm across your stomach. Normally he only eats you out if you pissed him off and he's just getting back at your bratty attitude. Between orgasms he gently licks you clean while you come down before his tongue is back on your clit and he’s three fingers deep in your pussy and you have tears in your eyes from being over stimulated.
Happy is more like a soft dom when “punishing” you. He isn't mean, he's just relentless and won't stop until he decides you have had enough.
“Baby, if I listened to you and stopped, that wouldn’t be teaching you anything about being a brat, now will it?”
“So wet babygirl, I think you need to cum a few more times to feel like you’ve been punished.”
“Two more baby, then you can have my cum as a reward, okay?”
#soa imagine#soa smut#jax teller#jax teller x reader smut#soa Opie#opie smut#happy smut#juice smut#juice x reader#soa juice x reader#soa jax x reader#jax teller x reader#opie x reader#happy x reader#soa happy x reader#soa opie x reader#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy smut#sons of anarchy x reader
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Fall In Love
Happy Lowman x Reader - One Shot
Part 2
Gif does not belong to me.
Moved from @spacedbrainnn.
If Happy wasn’t a shell before, he was now. Things had been different since you left and moved on to Lake Isabella. Lake Isabella was a little town near his of Bakersfield, and it was what you fell in love with. You swore to him all up and down that you would move there… together.
So why weren’t you together?
Well, anyone could tell that you two were in love. You’d brightened the man’s days and his attitude. He was still closed off, but anyone could see the light in that man’s eyes when he met you. Big brown eyes, from icy murky waters to those of a puppy in love, and now, they were just guarded.
You had been talking about forever since the two of you had gotten together. Something about meeting him had fixed you.
“So you want a ring, huh?” He smelled of Lucky You cologne and leather polish. He had just shined up his leather and taken care of it while you were finishing some paperwork for work.
The look in your eyes when you looked up from the coffee table while he wiped his hands was enough to stop a grown man in his tracks.
You were so pretty sitting there, that little smile on your face as you spoke. “Of course.” You told him.
“Okay then.” That small smile curled on the corner of his lips as well.
But then things shattered.
It was midnight in Shafter, and he was driving your car home. The smiley faces on his abdomen had been growing and you didn’t know what that meant, but all you knew was that it wasn’t good. The club kept things in a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ manner, and all you knew was that they kept him away from you.
The tears down your face could’ve stabbed Happy right in the throat. “But what about us?” You asked as you stared at him, one of his hands on the wheel as you rode passenger in your own car. He was choked in the throat but it didn’t show. He just didn’t speak, hidden behind a theatrical plain mask of no emotion.
“You haven’t had time for us in months, Happy.” He swallowed and his lack of reply made you demand your next words. “Stop the car.”
“What?”
“Stop the car, Lowman.” He did. He stopped and you stepped out in the pouring rain, stomping off and leaving. He waited, waited for you, drove around for you but you’d already gotten a taxi to your best friend’s, Jax’s.
All of these memories came to surface every time he looked in his mother’s eyes. She loved you, so much. You still talked to her.
“She’s got a new man in Lake Isabella, Hap.” She told him as she rocked in her chair. “I tried… to tell her not to do it, baby.” He looked over at her as a sigh fell out of his lips.
He didn’t say anything, but it showed in those brown eyes that seemed emotionless. They were big as he pet the dog laying in his lap.
“I know, mom.”
Everyone knew. You settled. You were scared to fall in love. And he missed you more than anything.
- end -
#happy lowman#happy x reader#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy one shots#sons of anarchy imagines#David Labrava#your space brain
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Sons of Anarchy Masterlist
Requests are OPEN. Who I write for listed below the cut;
Tig Trager
Long Run.
Tig w/ a cat person
Chibs Telford
coming soon...
Jax Teller
coming soon...
Juice Ortiz
Destined Meetings.
Opie Winston
coming soon...
Happy Lowman
coming soon...
#jax teller x reader#tig trager x reader#chibs telford x reader#juice ortiz x reader#opie winston x reader#happy lowman x reader#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy fanfiction#sons of anarchy#sons of anarchy x reader#jax teller imagine#soa x reader#jax x reader#opie x reader#tig x reader#alexander trager x reader#alex trager x reader#happy x reader#juice x reader#juan carlos ortiz#juan carlos x reader#soa fluff#soa angst#soa chibs#soa chibs x reader#soa jax x reader#soa tig x reader
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The Start Of Something New (Happy x Reader)
Finally not a song fic.
Warnings: Language, alcohol, drugs, mentions of abuse
__________________
You were at the Friday night party, enjoying time with the other girls there. Jax had invited you because you had been very close to Jax and Ope since you were kids. Always getting in trouble together. One time one of the teachers saw you and Jax sneaking out of school and followed you to the back of the school and watched you light a joint. Of course leading you and Jax to get suspended for a week.
You had just moved back to Charming and you were so excited to see Jax and Ope again but they hadn't made their appearance yet. But just as you were thinking that, you heard the door open and there was your boys. You jumped up and excused yourself, running full speed towards the two. When their eyes saw your running figure they both screamed your name as you jumped into both of them.
"Damn boys you grew up good," you joked as you pulled away from them. You liked to joke with them even if you did only see them last year and they looked about the same, except Opes hair is longer.
"Not as good as you darlin'," Jax countered laughing at the blush spreading against your face. Truth be told you did miss Charming. The big city life wasn't for you and you had the chance to be back hanging with these two idiots everyday so you took it.
"Come on (y/n). We need to bring you to see everyone since I know you didn't say hi" Opie said linking one arm with his as Jax looped your other arm with his.
As the three of you were walking over, you saw Juice, Bobby, and Piney and your heart soared as you went over and first got a kiss on the head from Piney. Bobby gave you a quick hug. Juice pulled you into a hug and spun you around.
"How long have you been here (y/n)," Juice asked with a excited voice.
"In town? Yesterday. At the party? An hour ago," you smiled. All three men gave 'offended' scoffs all mumbling about how you just came to see them.
That's when you heard it, "Well, well, well, if it isn't little (y/n/n)!"
You turned around extremely excited to see Tig standing there with a man you didn't know. You went up to Tig and hugged him as hard as you could. When you got into some really bad shit before leaving Tig really helped you out. You just hoped 'really bad shit' didn't come to the party.
Jax and Ope came up behind you as you finally let go of Tig. Jax saw no one else was gonna step up and introduce you to the man that had been staring at you the entire time so he did, "(y/n) this is Happy. Happy this is (y/n)."
When your eyes landed on the new man your heartrate quickened. He sure was fine as all hell. You said your hellos to the man and he just nodded in return. Very soon after this interaction, you kept noticing his eyes on you all night but you paid no mind, you knew you looked good. You were slowly sipping your beer when Chibs came up behind you and scared you. On purpose you might add, seeing as he screamed from behind you. You jumped and turned around only to smack the Scotsman on the shoulder.
"How dare you," you smiled wide before hugging him too. Man you were doing a lot of hugging tonight but seeing as it's your first official night back home, you didn't mind it much.
"Hey, lass, how 'ave ye been," he smiled at you.
As the two of you sat talking for while, you kept noticing Happy staring at you from across the bar. Chibs followed your gaze and smiled, "I see you caught his eye."
"I see that as well, but he seems to have caught my eye too," you joked with him.
"Be careful with that one (y/n/n)," he joked, lighting a joint and taking a hit. He handed it off to you and you were just reveling in the fact you caught the eye of the sexiest man you've ever seen. You and Chibs sat around smoking and talking for a while until a croweater caught his eye.
"Go on Chibby. Get you some," you laughed shoving him slightly.
That left you alone at the bar, enjoying the music. Gemma came up and hugged you and the two of you talked for a while before she went off to make sure Clay wasn't doing anything stupid. You continued to down beers and you were getting quite drunk.
That's when you heard it. The familiar laughter. Your heart stopped and you put your head down. Well there is that 'really bad shit' you wanted to avoid. You could've sworn the boys banned him from coming back. You slowly turned around, still keeping your head down, eyes searching for Tig, Jax, or Ope. And, of course, they were no where to be seen. Your heart sank further. They were the only ones that knew what happened and you felt like they were the only ones that could protect you.
What you couldn't see is that Happy noticed your change in demeanor. You were no longer smiling but more like a hiding mouse from a cat. He saw you slowly get up, grab your beer, and hide in the corner of the room. His eyes started searching for the danger, but he soon found out what you were hiding from when a man started to walk up to you.
"(y/n)! You know I see you. So, why don't you show me that pretty little face," your ex said as he roughly grabbed your face and made you look at him. You flinched and tried not to look him directly in the eye. Old habits quickly coming back. Falling back into the swing of abuse.
Your eyes searched for Jax, Opie, or Tig one more time before a harsh slap came across your face, "Your little friends cant save you this time, kitten."
You cringed at the nickname. You hated being called that. Tears started to fall as the fear started to build. You didn't know what to do when suddenly a fist connected with your ex's face. Then many more started being thrown as the two men fought. You noticed it was Happy. Soon enough, the boys were being pulled off from each other. Happy was less beaten up than your ex. It looked like your ex barely even made a hit.
"(y/n)," you heard someone yell but you couldn't look up. Your breathing began to become erratic and your heart rate sped up. You knew you were having a panic attack but you couldn't stop it. You closed your eyes while Tig, Jax, and Ope tried to coax you down. They knew how bad it was with your ex but they've never seen you so worked up. You've always come across as calm when everything happened years ago.
When your breathing leveled out, you looked up and all the boys and Gemma was standing in front of you. Gemma had a bottle of water in her hands and handed it off to you.
"Don't worry, baby. We're handling it," Gemma said, rubbing your head a little bit, "He cant hurt you anymore."
Chibs quickly got an idea and called out to Happy who was currently looking like someone just kicked his dog, "Hap, why don't ye take (y/n/n) to yer room and let her relax. I'll bring ye some beer in a minute."
Happy just nodded before he started to walk off. You quickly got up to follow him. When you caught up to him you put your head down and mumbled, "Thank you. You didn't have to do that for me."
"No one is going to lay a hand on a woman in front of me," he said matter-of-factly.
You just nodded your head as you two finally made it to his room. You stood in the middle of it, not quite sure what to do at the moment. He nodded for you to sit on the bed and you did as you were told. You put your head in your hands. You were so embarrassed. Everyone saw that. Soon enough Chibs came with beer for Happy, whiskey for you, and a couple of joints. Chibs gave Happy a pointed stare that said 'stay with her.' Happy just nodded to it before taking the items.
You called out a quick thanks to Chibs before he walked away. Happy came back to the bed and sat on the opposite end and held out the whiskey for you. You popped the top and downed as much as you could without taking a breath. Happy just watched you. Taking in everything he could. He didn't know what it was but all he wanted to do was protect you. Keep you safe from anything and anyone.
You looked over to Happy to see his eyes were already on you so you blushed and quickly looked down. Usually you were a lot more confident and outgoing but he was so attractive and something about him made him irresistible. You were still pretty shaken up from earlier and Happy could tell. It was like you turned from the happy go lucky girl to something else entirely. He wondered if this is what they all saw when you left. All he wanted was to see you smile again.
"Can we turn on some music or something? It's really quiet in here," you asked, keeping your head down.
"Sure, little girl," Happy replied, getting up to turn on the radio, "Classic rock good with you?"
You only smiled, "Jax and Ope are my best friends, of course classic rock is good with me."
The two of you sat in silence as the music played. Happy moved to grab a joint and lit it. He looked over at you to see that you head is facing your lap. He wanted to say something, anything, to make this right and bring that smile back to your lips. He couldn't think of anything so he just held the joint out to you. You looked at Happys outreached hand and saw the joint. With a genuine smile, you took it and hit it a couple of times.
Jax came to Happys door and knocked on the doorframe since the door wasn't shut, "Hey, I just wanted to say that if you two wanted to come back now that you could. Everything is handled, (y/n). He can't ever hurt you again. We made sure of it."
You knew of some of the stuff SAMCRO got into but you knew enough to know that Jax was telling you the truth. You got up, tears starting to fall again as you went to hug Jax, "Thank you Jax. Really. I don't know how I did those couple of years without you and Ope."
Happy watched as you wiped your tears away. He felt good knowing that Jax and Opie had always had your back. He wanted to apart of that group. Suddenly Opie appeared in the doorway too, "Hey (y/n/n), do you want me to take you home?"
"I will," Happy said without thinking. The three of you looked over at Happy. All confused as to why he offered to take you home without hesitation.
You smiled at Happy before looking at Jax and Opie who both looked to you for your choice, "Well if Happys offering, I'd love for him to take me home."
Jax and Opie gave you a knowing look that made a blush creep up your neck. The two boys have known you long enough to know you had a crush and they were not gonna let you off without teasing you relentlessly when Happys not around, maybe even when he's around. Hopefully they wouldn't do that unless they kept it on the downlow about who it is.
Happy came up behind you and the four of you walked back out to the front. Tig immediately ran up to you and put his hands on either side of your face, "Are you alright? And don't you lie to me."
You smiled at him, nudging his hands off your face, "Yeah. I'm good. I promise. Just as long as you gave him a good kick in the ass."
"More than that darlin'," Tig laughed before letting you and Happy pass.
As the two of you were walking out, Happy suddenly asked, "Do you want to take my bike? I can bring you your car in the morning."
You smiled at him, "Yeah I'd love to."
You followed him to his bike and he climbed on, holding a hand out to you to help you on. This was the first time you and Happy touched in the couple hours you were there and the touch made your face go red again. You were glad it was dark outside or you would've been even more embarrassed. The two of you rode to your home as you were giving directions. Your arms around his middle and you could feel him tense his stomach muscles every time you moved. You were starting to wonder if you had the same affect on him as he did on you.
When you two pulled into your driveway, Happy held his hand out for you again and helped you off. To your surprise, he got off as well. He walked you all the way to your door and before you opened the door he stopped you. You looked up at him slightly confused before he leaned down and gave you a kiss on the cheek. Soon after, he handed you a piece of paper with his number on it.
"If you need anything, just give me a call," he said before he walked back to his bike. You didn't hear his bike even turn on until he knew you were inside and the door was locked.
You looked at the paper in your hand and took your phone out, putting his number in. You thought about it and decided to send him a text saying that it was you. After a while you got a text that shocked you back from him:
You can text me anytime about anything.
You smiled knowing that it meant to keep texting him and then you spent the whole night texting back and forth with Happy. He seemed to really open up to you and you knew it was going to be the start of something great.
#happy lowman#happylowmanxreader#happy x reader#happyxreader#happylowman#soa imagines#soaimagines#soa x reader#soaxreader#happy lowman x reader
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i’m yours
Paring: Happy Hogan/Reader
Tags: gn reader, no pronouns, working holiday, slice of life, implied sexual content
Summary: Disastrous weather strikes, and Happy and ____________ are snowed in at their place before a Stark convention. Who's to the rescue?
Word Count: 1,067
Current Date: 2023-01-18
To everyone but Tony Stark, hosting the latest expo at a fancy snow village in the north island of Japan was absurd. It took hours of flights, tight squeezes, jetlag, fumbling essential documents and sleep deprivation, but it was over. You stood in the doorway of your cottage for the fortnight, eyelids heavy, sliding suitcase heavier.
“I know you’re dead on your feet, but if you don’t move into the cabin, you’ll let all the hot air out,” Your husband’s voice came from behind you.
He’s right, and the warmth from the wood oven is heavenly. So, you shuffle in and shuck off your snowshoes as Happy dumps his duffle onto the chair by the door. Your hand finds the light switch for the main room, and all at once, you’re blinking, taking in the rustic charm of the place.
“I’m almost afraid to go into the bedroom and find a little girl who ate our porridge,” Happy snarks, eyeing the door beside the kitchenette.
“It’s perfect,” you mumble. “…I’ll unpack in the morning.”
“We could have been here hours ago if we took the jet.”
“Coach is perfectly fine, Happy.” You almost trip on the split-level floor between the entrance and the main room but steady yourself. “The ozone doesn’t….”
“I know, I know,” Happy takes your elbow, and together, you make your way into the bedroom. It’s a queen mattress, smaller than yours at home, but the sheets are a white woven pattern that feels soft against your skin. You strip your bottoms off and crawl under the sheets, otherwise fully dressed. “Don’t you want to take off your –”
“Too tired.”
He makes a noise of ascent as you snuggle into your pillow, and for a second, you hear his footsteps tap away. “Harold…” you murmur. “It’s almost midnight. Lay with me.”
“I’ve got work to do,” he says.
It’s almost sunrise when you feel the bed dip on the other side, and you feel his hands cradle your face gently as he places a kiss beside your nose. You fade back into your dreams, now with the comfort of another within reach.
---
The alarm goes off, but you don’t reach your phone in time to neutralise it. Bright white sunlight streams into the room, and blinking, you remember you’re not in your apartment in southern California. The house is pleasantly warm. You pad into the main room, take the spare blanket from the end of the bed, and make your way to the kitchenette. There’s no kettle, so you start to boil water on the stove for coffee. The view from the window above the sink is gorgeous. No houses are on this side of the building, just deciduous trees full of white and a snow-capped mountain in the distance.
Whoever stocked the cabin before you came is now your favourite person because the fridge has all milk known to humankind and some and a half loaf of pre-cut bread too. The coffee-making process goes well, and soon, two mugs of piping hot joe are in your hands as you make your way back to bed.
“Hmm?” Happy stirs at the smell of his cup on the bedside nightstand. “Oh, you’re a goddamned angel.”
“That’s me,” you smile.
Then the alarm goes off again, automatically snoozed from its previous iteration. As you quiet it, you notice the wall-to-wall notifications from your husband’s boss’s assistant. You pass the phone to Happy, who accepts it mid-gulp.
“Is your phone flat?”
He nods, scrolling through the texts and missed calls. It might be your phone, but it’s Stark Enterprises data, and you’re in no need to learn their trade secrets off their payroll. The lawsuits, let alone, what it would mean for you as an Avenger, would be hell on earth. But it seems Happy is there right now, by the colour of his face. You take his cup from him as he starts to hurry off the bed into the main room to delve into his duffle.
“Honey?”
“The main vendor has pulled out, the workers for the set up are on strike, and to top it all off –” He shouts from the other room, half a leg in his suit pant and hopping to put the other on, “and all this snow has stopped everything!”
“That’s…that’s a lot.” You place the cups on the floor by the bed and start to walk over to him. “Pepper can’t be expecting you to change the weather, Harold.”
“I need to try,” he shoves on his snow boots and swings open the front door. “Sit tight, hon. I need to –” There’s no way he’s leaving the cabin. The snow has drifted onto the porch, rising to his eye level. “Crap.”
You take the phone from him and close the door. It seems you might need to suit up, after all. “Get the laptop and start a video call. I’ll contact Stark.”
He melts a little and kisses your neck. “God, I love it when you’re bossy.”
Soon enough, you have your fellow Avenger on the phone. Stark has a tiny espresso in hand and a pen in the other, taking notes. “You know, I’m glad you’re in my entourage, ___________; what would I do without you?”
“Wither away?” You cock an eyebrow. “I’m yours.”
It takes forty minutes, two more cups of coffee, and payback from a friend of Tony’s friend, but it’s sorted. The main vendor has been replaced and paid handsomely for the short notice, the construction workers have been paid in advance, and Tony has his old Iron suits on autopilot, working with the local council to shovel the snow. Throughout this process, Happy has been pacing the cabin.
“I can send one to your place to get you out from there,” Tony offers.
You shrug. “You can…give me an hour.” You put your coffee down. “I’ve got something I need to do first.” You can see the corner of his lips turn up, words about to come through the video call, but you close the session and the laptop. He was one hell of a cheeky bastard, always trying to get the last word. “Happy? It’s done.”
He approaches the doorway. “My saviour,” he exhales sarcastically, but you know he means it. “How can I ever repay you?”
You cast the laptop aside and beckon him. “We’re on vacation. Let’s enjoy ourselves.”
#happy x reader#happy hogan x reader#happy hogan/reader#marvel x reader#pendragonfics#chaotic--lovely
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YOUR BOYFRIEND SIMON RILEY
olderboyfriend!simon who waits for you in the parking lot of your campus, waiting for your last university class to end. a wide grin on his face as you enter his car, he leans in and kisses your forehead. “you alright, kid?”
olderboyfriend!simon who drives you back to his place, his large hand on your thigh as he listens to you explain about your day. “and then my friend dylan was like-“ he cut you off almost immediately, “wait, so is dylan a girl…or?” - “dylan is a guy, obviously. back to what i was saying.”
olderboyfriend!simon who seems to tune out the sound of your voice, his mind wandering elsewhere…thinking about this dylan guy. ‘pfft, i shouldn’t get myself worked up over this guy.’ he thought.
olderboyfriend!simon who heads up to his apartment with you, your hand in his as he unlocks the door. “so... tell me about this dylan guy, you've never mentioned him before.” — “oh— well, he's just a friend from class, nothing much.”
olderboyfriend!simon “hopefully.” he would mumble, a slightly stern expression on his face as he looked down at you, wrapping his arms around your waist. “tell me about your day, without dylan!” you smirked, looking up at your boyfriend who was getting himself worked up over a younger boy. you then wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him softly on the lips. “i can't believe you're jealous of dylan.” — “who said i was jealous hm?” he smirked.
#call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon riley#simon riley x reader#female reader#fluff#happy ending#cod mwii#cod smut#simon riley smut#jealousy
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Homemade
Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: While your dad’s watching a movie downstairs, you and his best friend decide to make one of your own.
Warnings: 18+. Sneaky sex tape fun with dbf!Joel ;-) Unprotected p-in-v. Age gap. Daddy kink. Facefucking. Joel being the world’s worst cameraman. Shower sex. Overstimulation via adjustable shower head. Dirty talk. Screaming ‘daddy’ too loud, and your father shows up.
Translations: In Chile, pico is slang for penis. Joel’s is big.
Part of the Waiting Game series
“If this ever ends up on PornHub, I’ll kill you, Miller.”
Joel knew you meant it, too.
The only reason you’d agreed to make this dumb little ‘home video’ at all was because you were headed back to college tomorrow and wouldn’t see him again until May. Doing long distance was tough, but doing long distance while simultaneously trying to keep a risqué, torrid, and totally-not-age-appropriate love affair with your father’s best friend under wraps was infinitely more difficult. This was the safest way to keep desire alive in the meantime.
Immortalized on a Sony CCD-TR70—because neither one of you trusted iCloud to keep a sex tape secret.
It had also been the only video camera you could find in the closet before your dad had plopped down on the couch just outside your room and announced he would be watching Oppenheimer for the third time. You’d had to scurry off fast before he could invite you to join him.
“I’ll be damned—this thing’s gotta be as old as I am,” Joel mused as he stood at the foot of the bed, camcorder pointed at your semi-nude form.
“I didn’t know they had cameras back in the Stone Age.”
Your smirk didn't flinch, even when Joel flipped you off.
You were lying on your side, head propped up on one hand while the other picked at a few loose strings from the comforter. The lacy, pastel pink bustier holding your tits in place was currently making breathing feel like a chore, and your skin was on fire from the warmth of the room, but you tried not to show it. Joel twisted a dial.
“Alright, now...flash ‘em for daddy,” he grinned as soon as the lens focused in where he wanted: your cleavage.
You rolled your eyes.
“A little closer, please,” you said, patting the space in front of you.
Joel didn’t need to be told twice. With one hand still cradling the camera, he clambered over the bed so fast he nearly tripped and took a nosedive in the headboard. You had to cover your mouth to contain a shriek of laughter—and terror—as his frame barreled into yours.
“JOEL!”
Fortunately, your cameraman was quick to recollect himself, planting a knee on either side of your chest once he’d knocked you onto your back. Then, from above, he angled the grey-black hunk of metal just a foot away:
“Anything you’d like to say to the folks watching at home, ma’am?” Joel inquired, suddenly assuming all the poise and matter-of-fact elocution of a news reporter.
You stuck your tongue out at the camera and blew the wettest, fattest raspberry you could muster in response.
Joel hummed, zoomed in on your lips, and nodded.
“Fascinating,” he said, pretending to make sense of the fart noise you’d just made with your mouth, “Have you ever given thought to maybe...sucking cock on camera?”
The swiftness with which he was able to dodge your kick was remarkable. He swayed the camera just out of reach before you could shove it away and say, ‘Joel, quit being GROSS’ and he promptly replied, ‘Ain’t that the whole point of a sex tape, sweet pea? Bein’ a little bit gross?’ And you playfully tried to kick him again, only this time, he caught your foot and yanked you closer to him. He turned the camcorder back to your face and grinned.
“That’s my little pornstar,” he murmured with affection. Then, zooming in again, this time to find your panty line, “Riiiiight there.”
You knew giving Joel Miller recording privileges for an occasion as momentous as this was a bad idea. At the rate you were going now, you’d be seeing the sunrise through the window before you ever got a glimpse of his dick. You needed to take matters into your own hands.
Literally.
You crawled on all fours to get to Joel across the bed.
The man, kneeling with the camera pointed in your direction, looked up to cock a brow at you.
“Sweetheart, hey, can ya do that one more—”
“Hush,” you muttered, closing in on his crotch.
Your head was lowered so you could undo the front of his jeans. Because of this, your back was arched, and your ass was pointed up just the slightest bit. For a second, Joel seemed torn between tilting the lens to your lower half or your face, which was inching ever closer to the bulge in his trousers. In time, he landed on the latter.
He swallowed. That sight never got old—and seeing it displayed on the camcorder’s semi-grainy screen only made it that much hotter. Joel shifted on his knees while you worked him out of his boxers, watching the nimble movements of your fingers as you wrestled the fabric.
“Wanna—” Glancing to the side of the bed, “—maybe—”
“Yup.”
Both of you liked it better on the floor: you on your knees in front of Joel, chin tilted up to see his reactions as you sucked him off. You loved to sink between his legs and then see and feel nothing but him, brain going blank the moment his cock filled your mouth. Joel slid a pillow under your knees before widening his stance some.
“Is it on?” Your hand was wrapped firmly around the base of his cock and your lips were hovering an inch from the tip. You resisted the urge to lick the precum off just yet.
“Darlin’, it’s been on ever since you stepped outta the bathroom in that— that—” Joel seemed to be searching for a word when the head of his cock was enveloped in a kiss. You dragged your tongue across the slit of him and collected the hot, salty beads with a muffled moan.
Then you pulled off.
“Teddy,” you said, reminding him of the name for that pretty little tulle and lace getup you currently had on.
“Teddy,” Joel echoed, his mind a million miles away from any lingerie jargon at the moment. He held the camera tighter as you took him back into your mouth and sank deeper on his cock. He struggled to keep it steady.
It was strange, watching Joel and the rounded glass of the lens as you did this dirty thing that was only meant to be shared between you and him. Knowing it would be recorded, saved for future viewing, displayed on some dimly lit screen in Joel’s bedroom maybe one, twice, or more likely than not, several dozen times over the next three months. You wondered how you might look from this new point of view; though, you weren’t so sure you needed to know what sight Joel was made privy to while you sucked and hollowed your cheeks around his cock.
As it turned out, that uncertainty wasn’t meant to last you very long, because Joel flipped the camera’s screen around two seconds later. Some sepia-tinted, pixelated rendition of your face, framed by the date and time and a bright red flashing dot beside the word ‘REC’ were the first to greet you. You flinched back just a little.
“Joel,” you said, almost bashful, “Flip it back.”
Joel just grinned. Then he laced his fingers through your hair and tugged you closer to him, thumb stroking over your scalp, “C’mon, darlin’, don’t ya wanna see how goddamn pretty ya look on your knees for me?”
You didn’t think you looked pretty at all. In fact, you reckoned your features looked something more like an alien utility funnel than a real, human face as you tilted your chin inward and seemed to be nothing but eyes and a hollowed-out expression, but you let Joel guide you back onto him all the same. You heard a low rumble of pleasure take shape in his chest as your lips slid over his shaft. Your gaze remained glued to the screen as you did.
Wet with saliva and a few faint traces of precum, you continued to bob your head up and down. Joel’s groans grew louder, and your drive to take him further and further surged as well. By the time his hand was tightening into a white-knuckled fist in your hair, you’d nearly taken him all the way to the back of your throat, and your nose was no more than an inch from the soft tufts of hair on his belly. Joel let out a shuttering breath.
“Fuck me,” he heaved. You might’ve smiled if your lips weren’t otherwise occupied. Then he clenched his hand even harder and murmured, “Can you— can I, please—”
Again, you didn’t need him to finish the rest of the question to know what he wanted. You moved your head back just slightly to nod, a low, ‘Mhmm’ reverberating down the length of his dick as you gave him permission. Joel swallowed and set the camera aside immediately.
He placed it on the nightstand, perfectly level with your head, to the side. Then he rotated the device just a bit, took one glance at the screen, and shortly returned to where you were watching him with wide, glossy eyes.
“Ready?” he asked. His right hand now joined the left at the back of your head, but not before thumbing a quick touch over your cheek to get a feel for your approval.
You hummed once more. You watched Joel’s hips move forward, hands secure around your scalp all the while, and you felt a gentle nudge at the back of your throat. Then another. You couldn’t help the impulse to gag, but thankfully, it was short-lived. Joel peered down at you, eyes searching yours for any plea to stop or slow down, but he found nothing. He sheathed himself deeper until your lips were brushing the base of his dick. He groaned.
“That’s a good…fuckin’ girl,” he managed, voice strained, “Takin’ my cock so deep.”
He shifted his hips to move an inch or two out, then slid his cock forward again, bumping that spot at the top of your throat. This time, you were better adjusted to take him and felt your muscles expand and contract around him without activating your gag reflex. Your eyes stayed trained on his face while he dragged his cock back again.
“My pretty girl and her—” Joel stabbed back into you, somehow tender in the way he did it, “—pretty fuckin’ mouth…Sweet thing likes gettin’ facefucked, does she?”
With the increased pace of his thrusts and the grip he had on the sides of your head, you couldn’t quite answer, but Joel could tell from the glint in your eye that you loved when he manhandled and fucked your throat like this. Watched the light sear gently behind those irises as you swallowed every inch of his cock, back and forth, and let your brain break down to little more than a happy, mindless mush. Joel was always keen to oblige you on that front—aroused to no end at the sight of all your thoughts being fucked straight out of your head—and within the next few thrusts, his gut was giving a familiar clench. He pulled halfway out of your mouth, paused, felt the pinch again, then withdrew from your lips fully.
“Get on the bed.”
You straightened back up and made it over to the mattress, quickly. Before you could assume the position you’d been hoping to take on all fours, you felt yourself flipped on your back. Joel yanked your hips to the edge of the bed and kneeled down between your legs. Hooked his fingers under the waistband of your panties and had them shuffled down your thighs and past your ankles in no time at all. Then, when he lowered his lips to your wet, aching core, you pressed a touch to the crown of his head.
“Joel, wait,” you said. All of a sudden your chest felt tight.
In spite of the fact that your airways were open and completely free from any obstruction—namely, Joel’s big ol’ pico—you still found it difficult to inhale. Some murky, amorphous sense of anxiety weighed over your chest.
When your hand didn’t move from his head and instead pushed him further, Joel furrowed his brows, perplexed.
“What’s’a matter, darlin’?”
You shook your head, more to yourself than to him.
“I haven’t…just— haven’t washed down there today…o-or shaved,” you stammered, “Don’t want you to taste it.”
That was largely a lie. You’d bathed, shaved, and prepared for this just fine, but really were more concerned about the novel optics that loomed overhead. Being filmed in such a singularly vulnerable state without knowing how to act. You were fine when the attention was focused on Joel and his pleasure, but something about having your every whimper and moan laid bare before you on film felt daunting. Unnerving, in a way.
Joel frowned while rubbing your thigh. His brow pinched inward again, as if he were considering something.
Then he moved across your body, and your muscles eased with relief at the thought that he’d just let it go and get to fucking you exactly how you wanted. You reached for him, ready to wrap your legs around his waist, when a yelp clawed out of your throat. You found that you didn’t get to touch his chest, or his cheeks, or his big, broad, beefy shoulders, as you were promptly thrown over the latter of the three body parts and lifted when Joel stood up from the bed. He started carrying you across the room, heedless of the startled, ‘What the FUCK, Miller?’ you’d cried the second he took one step.
Hardwood floors transformed to tile before your eyes, and shortly, you realized you were being brought into your bathroom.
You heard the squeak of some metal knob being turned, then a brief sputter, then a spray of water raining down on your shower floor. You were still being held hostage over Joel’s shoulder, try as you might to bite at his lower back or smack his ass in an attempt to break loose.
He set you down a second later, seemingly unfazed.
“Get in.” He nodded toward the shower.
Before you had a chance to respond, he left. You stood back in disbelief—refusing to go into the shower and let Joel have his win—but just as you opened your mouth to call out and tell him as much, his form slipped back in through the door. Naked, now, and wielding that stupid, goddamned camcorder with a devious glint in his eye.
“Will you—” You held out a defensive hand in front of you, cheeks already heating, “—stop with that?!”
Secretly, the corners of your lips were fighting a smile as Joel drew closer with the camera held up to your face.
“There she is, folks,” he announced, as though speaking to a crowd, or else reading off of a script from the world’s most cheesy porno, “My dirty, dirty girl says she needs a shower—don’t ya, sweet pea?”
It sounded so ridiculous and dumb that neither one of you could keep from laughing. Even as you lifted your middle finger in response, Joel grinned and smacked your ass. Steadied the camera out in front, nudged you closer to the shower, and watched you somewhat begrudgingly obey his orders. Once you’d stripped what little remained on your body, you stepped into the tub.
Add to ‘ridiculous and dumb’ just wildly unsexy as well—who the hell needed a soapy interlude to a sex tape?
Joel Miller, apparently. He constricted his grip on the camera and followed you in, tongue already skimming the backs of his teeth in anticipation. You turned away to step under the shower’s stream, and he wasted no time getting a shot of your derrière. You leaned forward and sighed.
The water worked wonders to get your muscles to loosen some, but still, you were nervous. You could clean up now, stall a little longer, maybe even offer to give Joel head again—but what if he really wanted to eat you out on camera? You couldn’t put off the conversation forever.
Or another minute, it seemed.
You let out a shriek when you felt Joel’s fingers sneak up between your thighs. You hardly knew what he was doing, just folding limply when he spun you around to press your back against the shower wall. Your eyes widened to see him descending your body once more.
“I lied,” Joel said, smirk painted clear across his features, “You’re not dirty—I just wanted to eat your pussy in the shower ‘s’all.”
Chivalry was evidently alive and well in Austin, Texas.
No truer words could have been spoken, and yet, you felt wildly uncomfortable the second Joel’s head dipped between your legs and that big, dumb, handsome face started licking stripes up your sensitive core. You cast a glance to the side and saw the camcorder perched on the sink—just through the open slit in the shower curtain, you could see it pointed directly at you.
You shivered and started to push Joel away.
“Can we maybe just—”
“Sweetie?!”
Joel’s lips tore out of your cunt quicker than a sneeze through a screen door. His eyes were wide.
“Y-Yeah, dad?” you squeaked, tone almost fearful.
“Everything okay in here? I heard ya scream,” your dad returned shortly.
You could only imagine the expression of confusion and distress painting his every lineament in that moment. Probably just barely sticking his head through the crack in the door and blinking anxiously through the steam.
Your dad was caring like that.
He just never knew the right times to show up.
No, there were very few times where you would’ve liked to see him less—apart from that one time you’d sucked Joel’s dick under the table at your dad’s birthday dinner. Your heart was thudding a wild, erratic beat in your chest, and you could only imagine how Joel was feeling. Probably seeing visions of a Size 11 boot being shoved up his ass if his friend happened to slide the shower curtain to the side and see him nose-deep in his daughter’s box.
That would be bad. So very, very bad and probably ten times worse than when Tommy had caught you blowing his brother at the aforementioned birthday party. You just couldn’t seem to catch a break these days.
You sucked in a breath and answered anyway.
“I thought I saw a spider.”
“Really?” You could already sense the embittered tinge to your dad’s voice, harking back to the war he’d once declared on all wolf spiders in the home, “Want me to kill it?”
The next thing you heard was two boots thud on the bathroom floor outside the shower, and you could’ve sworn you saw Joel’s whole soul leap from his body. He shot a frantic look around him, spotted a window above, and seemed to wonder for half a second if he might be able to shimmy his 188-pound frame through a space that probably wasn’t big enough to fit a fat raccoon. He slumped his weight against the shower wall and winced.
“No! I— It wasn’t even a spider. Just a…roach.”
Shortly, Joel’s eyes widened even more and met yours, as if to ask, ‘Why the FUCK would you say that?’
“A roach?!” your dad cried simultaneously.
Apparently, you’d forgotten that any derivative of the word ‘cockroach’ was like a sleeper agent activation phrase for middle-aged fathers who wanted to keep their homes free of all household pests. The look on Joel’s haggard, world-weary face communicated as much to you, and for a second, you remembered that he, too, was built the same way as any other semi-old dude you knew.
Just bigger and beefier and…harder below the belt than you would’ve expected most men around his age to be.
You quickly chided yourself for ogling Joel’s dick at a time like this and replied to your father, shrill, “No!”
Then, slightly more composed, “No, no— I already took it out with some hairspray and told it to fuck off to hell.”
An attempt at humor was the last leg you had to stand on. Fortunately, it worked.
Outside the shower, your dad chuckled, and his footsteps started to shuffle off toward the door.
“Ah. Atta girl,” he beamed, ever the advocate for brutal cockroach killings, “If you see another, just holler, okay?”
“Okay.”
You heard the sound of the bathroom door closing, and you almost fell to the floor. Joel probably would’ve been facedown just as well—fear seeping out of his body along with every last ounce of willpower to stand—had he not made a dive for you as soon as your dad had left.
The force of his push sent you straight into the wall, legs forced to wrap around his waist as he buried his face in your neck.
“Thank fuck,” he breathed.
“You’re welcome,” you murmured, swiping the water out of your eyes with a grimace.
Then, just as you were about to request that Joel lower you back down to the floor and out of the shower’s spray, you felt a nudge between your legs. Luckily not a tongue this time—just Joel, or the tip of his leaking cock. The man below you grinned, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a wash of relief. Could it be?
“I’ll still eat you out if y’want,” he started, though speaking with a little less conviction this time around, “But after all that I, uh—kinda jus’ wanna fuck ya stupid.”
Well thank fuck for fake spiders and cockroaches, too; you’d just averted a dreaded tonguefuck, thanks to that detour.
You’d worry about your pornstar moans and on-camera charisma another time—now you could just sit back and let Joel do all the work while he took you against the wall.
Really, there was no need to concern yourself with anything at all from that point forward. Once you’d given Joel the green light, he was sinking you onto his cock with a grunt and making sure you felt nothing but him. His hands found your hips and held you firmly in place as he rutted into you from below, your own fingers latching onto his shoulders for some much-needed support. Both of you knew that you needed to be extra quiet now—seeing how sound seemed to carry in that tight, tiled space—so Joel snagged your lips in his for a kiss.
He was practically panting in your mouth by the time you started meeting his thrusts. His fingertips slid some and must’ve seared ten perfect crescents into the flesh of your ass as he fucked you into the wall.
“Look so pretty like this,” he whispered in between kisses and short, shallow breaths. His cock parted your insides with an excruciating welt of pleasure, and he hardly even seemed to realize it, “Look so damn pretty takin’ cock.”
Then, lips kicking up in a smile when it seemed he’d remembered something, he added, “Can’t wait to play this tape back home and watch us fuck all over again.”
Again. Again. And again. Shit, you could just see it now.
Your eyes traversed the compact shower space once more to find the video camera—still perched, still live, still perfectly implacable and silent atop the sink as it recorded your every grunt, groan, and shuddering moan. You were nearly as curious to know what Joel’s bare ass looked like rutting into you like this as you were to hear yourself getting railed against the shower wall. Maybe you’d beat this fear of secondhand embarrassment after all.
Maybe.
Joel’s teeth snagged your bottom lip and bit it, lightly.
“Every chance I get, you can bet I’ll be thinkin’ ‘bout this…sweet pussy while you’re away,” he said, voice low and occasionally punctured by a groan, “Say one more thing f’me and I’ll…cum every time I watch this part.”
The kinks at the corners of his lips were endearing. You would’ve liked to supply them with just about anything they could’ve wanted, so when they leaned into your ear and murmured just what it was they needed to hear, you only hesitated a second.
Or maybe two or three, because, well…it was risky.
Moaning ‘daddy’ out loud at a time like this? It might get Joel off quick, but it might send your real dad running even faster. You weren’t crazy about the thought of anything that might draw the man’s attention again.
Joel seemed a little less risk-averse than you, notwithstanding the window-leaping fear he’d felt when your dad had rushed in before. Leave it to a criminally horny man to have the memory of a goldfish, though.
At present, Joel was blinking and gawking a bit like one, too, waiting for you to enunciate that one magic word.
You couldn’t deny he made a damn cute desperate sex fiend when he wanted to be. And you needed to cum.
You figured you could cut a deal with him just this once.
“Alright,” you mumbled against the top of his stubbled lip, “Make me cum and I’ll say anything you want, Miller.”
You weren’t sure if it was a chuckle or a strangled moan that jumped up in his throat when Joel squeezed your sides tighter. All you knew was that he was lowering you to the floor in the next instant, spinning you around, and walking you forward, swiftly and with purpose, toward the opposite end of the shower. Right where the crack in the curtain made you most visible to the camcorder.
Joel’s hand snaked around your front and gently eased between your legs. Then, pressing his chest to your back and nudging you to bend just slightly at the waist, he tipped your bodies closer to the camera’s line of vision and stilled. From the LED screen, you could see the ghost of a smile crossing his lips as he shifted his head beside your own. Next, they were kissing across your shoulder, your neck, that sensitive spot behind your ear, and finally the shell of it, brown eyes trained on the camera lens as he murmured to you, “Stay real still.”
You didn’t know if you could. But you tried. And you damn near cried when his fingers started working circles over your clit. Your body was raised on tip-toes, and your hand was bracing the wall as Joel fucked you from behind and made a mess of your wet, writhing body. In no more than three or four strokes, your fears of looking or sounding stupid on camera trickled away with all the rest of the silent, sizzling liquids circling the drain below. Your cheek pressed against Joel’s rougher one, and with the push of each new thrust, you came more unraveled.
When Joel’s hand closed over the front of your throat, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t move—couldn’t move, as the man was holding you still in such a taut, rigid grip.
“What do we say when we get fucked this nice, baby?” Joel whispered in your ear, words almost entirely masked by the sounds from the shower. You still heard it, though.
“T-Thank you,” you stuttered, cockdrunk and faint.
“Thank you, what?”
Your eyes were fluttering closed, but you could feel the smug expression just over your shoulder. You clenched around him and felt him snap his hips ahead even harder.
“Thank you, daddy,” you whimpered.
“Say it again.”
“Thank you, daddy!” you whined, still scared to be too loud.
Joel wasn’t scared. His hand ascended the column of your neck to pinch your chin between his fingers, jerking your head to the right.
To the crack in the curtain. To the camera.
You could’ve cried with how fast he was fucking you now. You opened your eyes and cast a pathetic look to the recorder. Joel made sure you maintained that gaze, too.
“Who’s makin’ ya feel this good?” he seethed, shaking your whole frame with the breakneck pace of his hips.
“You, daddy.”
“Who’s fuckin’ this sweet cunt like no one ever has?”
“You, daddy.”
Joel seemed sated and somehow not fully satisfied at all. Like he was pleased to see you falling apart for him like this, but needed to hear more. Feel more.
He withdrew from you, and you nearly collapsed with the absence of his arms holding you straight.
You pressed a shaky palm to the wall and almost moaned for him to get his ass back over here, you weren’t done, when Joel returned in a second. To your relief, his muscly arms found their way around your front once more, and his clock plunged back inside you, too—only this time, you sensed you were missing something else.
Water.
It wasn’t on your back anymore.
It was fanning between your legs.
Blasting the full force of its stream toward your most sensitive parts as Joel held the shower head up between your thighs. You would’ve jumped back and screamed were it not for his hand clamping tight over your mouth before you could, his lips grazing over your ear again.
“Try it one more time.”
You released a hoarse, muffled squeal into his palm when he lifted the stainless steel to your clit and started rolling his hips. The strokes themselves were relatively gentle, but paired with the ruthless spate of the water, your eyes were nearly rolling to the back of your head at the pulse.
You couldn’t breathe, much less speak. Joel hummed almost apologetically into your hair but didn’t seem sorry at all as he lowered his hand back down to your throat and squeezed. He continued rocking his hips into yours.
“You’ve said it dozens of times before—what’s’a matter?”
Joel Miller knew what the fuck was the matter. He just liked to see you desperate, fucked-out, and teetering on the brink of going feral before he let you reach your peak.
“D-D-D—”
Damn, you sounded stupid.
“D-D-Do you wanna cum? Is that it?” Joel said, mocking your struggle to articulate words as he fucked you.
In spite of your normal no-bullshit attitude toward him, you weren’t in quite the right frame of mind to be talking back to him. You just nodded and moaned, movements constricted by the grip of his fingers on your neck.
“Use those big girl words for me, honey. I know ya can.”
Again, you parted your lips and started to speak, but the oscillation of the water, the brush of his cock, the patently deprecating lilt in Joel’s string of praises, made it nearly impossible. You ended up sputtering again,
“D-D-ah-fuuuckfuckfuck.”
“That ain’t the word I’m looking for.”
But, just as you ventured to say it once more, he cut in,
“Here. Lemme help ya find it.”
Before you could blink, Joel was pistoning his hips against your ass like he had before, only this time, he held the shower head stationary between your legs as you seized and nearly fell to the floor with the force of all the pleasure coursing through you. Your body seemed to act of its own accord, head dropping to Joel’s shoulder and stomach giving an alarmingly fitful pinch as an orgasm tore through you. You couldn’t control how it came or where it went—or how your tongue jumped up and cried,
“Daddy!”
Joel nodded, fucking you through each violent spasm with all the composure and aplomb of a seasoned pro. While your eyes cycled back in the throes of delirium, he held firm and didn’t slow his hips—or the shower head.
You probably could’ve torn a hole through a cinder block if you’d happened to have one between your teeth just then. That was how fervid and merciless the aftershocks of your climax were pulsing through you, exacerbated to the nth degree by the continuity of Joel’s movements. You managed to grab the forearm that was holding the metal nozzle and plead a wild, slightly stifled, “JOEL!”
In truth, you didn’t really want him to stop. It felt too good. You could tell that Joel sensed this, too, because in the instant after that, his lips were sponging kisses to your shoulder, cock working steadily between your walls.
“One more, sweet pea.”
“Joel—”
“And say it louder this time.”
Were you in your right mind, you probably would’ve chided him for being so reckless and stupid about it all. How the fuck could he expect you to scream out loud when your dad was lounging right outside of your room? Did he really think the drone of Cillian Murphy’s smooth, American-ized tone would mask your unbridled moans? Honestly, you couldn’t be sure—and more importantly, you couldn’t be stopped to consider for much longer. With one last trembling vibration from the shower head and a thrust from Joel, you were cumming all over again.
Squeezing his arm, sinking into his sturdy frame, clenching over his cock in what felt like a hundred convulsions, and casting caution aside, you screamed:
“DADDY!”
You might’ve blacked out for a second or two.
Even a minute, as it was, because the next intelligible thing that reached your ears was the thunder of footfalls. And the thrum of Joel’s own hammering heart as he yanked you into his chest and stilled frozen inside you.
The door swung open on its hinges so hard it hit the wall.
“What is it, sweetie?!” your dad yelped.
“I—”
“Are you hurt?”
Just fucked raw by your best friend and shaking, Pops.
You sucked in a breath when Joel nudged your head with his nose and slowly pulled the shower curtain closed to move you out of view of the camera. But it was still there.
Your dad was still there.
The shower walls seemed to be closing in on you, but somehow, you managed, “No, dad, I’m fine! Just…coulda sworn I saw another spider in here, but it was nothing.”
“Are you sure?”
Your dad sounded unconvinced, pacing closer. You could’ve screamed, but Joel was likely holding you too tight to make any such sounds possible in that moment. The two of you recoiled, still stuck chest-to-back, away from the edge of the plastic shower liner when a boot thudded just outside the crack between curtain and wall.
You swallowed. Joel squeezed. Neither of you breathed.
“If it’s another roach, I gotta call the extermin—”
“No! No, it wasn’t a roach. I’m just seein’ things, I think.”
That didn’t seem to make your father feel any better, because he didn’t retreat like he had before. A tense moment fell over the compact, fog-infested room, like the man was chewing away at some thought in his head.
Then he sighed.
“Alright.”
Blissful footsteps away from the shower. You smiled.
Unfortunately, the grin was destined to be short-lived, because in the next instant, you heard boots screech to a halt on the tile. Pivoted, then paused where they stood.
Another gut-wrenching dozen seconds passed, and for one short, chilling moment, you could’ve sworn you felt your father’s gaze sear through the curtain and see you.
But he didn’t see you. Or Joel. Or anyone.
Instead, his gaze was fixed someplace else.
Suddenly, his voice rose above all the awful noises of clamor and panic in your brain, and broke out, loudly,
“What’s my camera doin’ in here?”
#TO THE CREATIVE MINDS WHO BROUGHT THIS MAN’S BUSH TO TELEVISION…..I OWE Y’ALL MY LIFE#it took COURAGE and TENACITY to decide that showing the happy trail was essential to the narrative#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller x you#dbf!joel#dbf!joel miller
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Nanami owning a “husband of the year” mug is all that’s been eating away at my brain.
part 1 of the fic
#let me be happy#nanami fluff#jujutsu kaisen#fanfic aesthetic#jjk aesthetic#nanami kento#nanami headcanons#nanami scenarios#nanami x reader#nanami x black!reader#nanami fanfic#jjk moodboard#nanami smut#nanami kento x reader#jjk headcanons#nanami x you#nanami girls rise#nanami angst#jjk leaks
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Simon sleeps best when your head is on his heart, knowing his heartbeat lulls you to sleep most nights. Your arm on his chest, the other tucked underneath your side and your leg thrown across his hip - no matter how bony you say it is. “You have no cushion there, Si,” you always say, “You need to eat more. They don’t feed you enough when you’re working anyway.”
His head is either back on his pillow, eyes staring at the ceiling or he’s looking at you. Baby monitor on his side of the bed, wanting you to take more rest. I’ll be awake anyway, he says. Damned sleep schedule, he says. He’s asleep ten minutes after you are.
He sleeps second best when his head is settled on your stomach. Hands cradling your lower back, eyes drooping as the TV hums from across the room. Your fingers in his hair, your body wash lingers on your skin. He rubs his cheek a bit on your stomach, just to make you smell like him.
He sleeps the third best with the dog pile - Mellie on his chest when you finally allow her to sleep in the bed, Winnie tucked into his side in a ball, and your head on his shoulder and hand gently settled on his belly button - near Mellie’s socked feet.
He doesn’t sleep much when he’s far from home, far from the woolen blankets, loud laughs and soft cries. He can’t rest when you aren’t beside him, holding him through the nightmares and the dreams that make him cry silent tears. He doesn’t sleep well without knowing his home is safe, that his girls are asleep soundly - whether they’re in his bed or their own, all three of his Riley girls are safe and sound.
That’s all he’ll ever care about.
#happiness series#happiness#lethalchiralium#lethal chiralium#simon riley#call of duty#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley x f!reader#simon ghost riley x wife!reader#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley x wife!reader
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can you pls write something about reader being sick and like not the cough and cold kind of sick- like really really sick, and sukuna realising how much he doesn't want to lose her to this sickness and how if she dies, he'll be alone again..🥺
You have NO idea how much I love this idea!!! I did go a bit overboard with it cause I love suffering though 👍 Still, this was SO much fun to write and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!
Vows
Sukuna x Reader
Word count: 4.5k
Tags/warnings: gn! reader, true form! sukuna, master/pet dynamic, fluff but most importantly ANGST, mentions of weight loss, mentions of violence, implied nsfw, reader dies in the end :( (sorry)
It's not the first time Sukuna has been made aware of your mortality. He recalls many instances when he's been reminded that you are human. Finite. The first time he wrapped his hand around your throat and squeezed with calculation while you were laying under him, and you looked up at him in fear for your life. Your little hand couldn't even wrap around his wrist, much less provide resistance. Or when he'd pull your hair a little too roughly, and hear a crack in your delicate spine. When you'd get sick, and humbly refuse his healing. So little as a tummy ache had you writhing on your bed.
You are so weak, so small, clinging to life like there was anything for you in it, beyond Sukuna. By all means he hates all of these things. So what witchery is this, and why does he care about you so much? Why does he keep you for years, and why does your company bring him comfort he hasn't ever known in his lifetime?
Still, as much as he cares, he doesn't notice when it starts. He's trained you to tolerate pain, after all. It's no wonder you hesitate to tell him. Little things like tummyaches and colds occur to you all the time anyways, and you never complain. Sure, you've grown closer to Sukuna, but he was still your master, and the rules he instilled in you from the start were always fresh in your mind, not to be crossed. Bothering him with everything that feels off always seemed inappropriate.
And Sukuna is just like that. If you're not screaming or crying, he won't know you're in pain. But he notices that you're acting off. And how he reacts really doesn't help your case, or encourage you to speak up about your condition. ''I don't have all day. What is wrong with you?'', he sneers when he catches you pacing too far behind him.
So you just sleep longer and preserve energy for when you are with him. You don't skip around as much anymore, or spend time doing your hobbies. Food doesn't taste so great anymore. You have a cough that gives you sleepless nights because it just won't calm down. And the time you owe Sukuna starts to feel like an obligation. You start to dread it. Dread slipping up, dread annoying him or failing to satisfy him. Dread being disposable.
When things start getting worse, it's hard to hide it even from him. He was taking you from behind one night, and you were grateful he couldn't see the look on your face. You thought you could do it. Sukuna was always demanding, but he would never force you to do anything. If only you told him before you felt yourself struggling for air, and your chest closing in on itself in tightness. You reached one hand back, frantically grabbing his wrist.
''Feathers, feathers!'', words came out as gasps, and you slumped forward when he let you go. You were panicked and crying by then, this kind of discomfort being foreign even to you, even after weeks of pain behind you. He hovered next to you with a puzzled look on his face. He wasn't even being that rough.
''What's wrong? Tell me.'', he said, and reached his hand to feel the warmth of your tears streaming down your face. He swiped your cheek gently. He didn't seem mad at all. Why didn't you say anything from the start?
''I just feel so sick.'', you muster up in between sobs, and shut your eyes. You were too embarrassed to even look at him.
''I see.''. His hand leaves your face, and he traces it from your neck down your spine. The pain subsided slowly, allowing you to relax and find comfort in his arms.
But the effects of his healing were short lived. Just a week later the feeling of fatigue creeps back into your life. Manageable, but lingering. And the cough persists. And it gets on Sukuna's nerves too. He's been quite patient with you, but his patience was reaching it's limit.
You're sitting by his throne as you often do, and as hard as you try to hold the cough in, you just can't help it. His hand finds the back of your neck and squeezes, turning you to him. And he looks at you with all four, terrifying eyes. ''Can you shut up?''
''I'm sorry, I'm trying -'', you stutter, but just end up coughing more. He doesn't wait for you to stop.
''Get out of here.'', and pushes you away. You stumble down the pile of bones and fall, landing on your hands and knees. You don't remember him being this cruel to you in a long time. You look back at him with teary eyes, and he looks back like the merciless monster he is. The villagers awaiting him moved to make space for your fall, taking note of the tense situation.
That day, Sukuna sends word that he doesn't want to see you until you get better. You're forbidden from going outside again, in fear that that is making your 'cold' worse. It's a lonely week in your room, until Sukuna starts to crave you again. It didn't take him a while, counting the couple days he spent convincing himself he doesn't miss you. He does. So when he sends word for you again, and the servants come back to him saying you're still not feeling well... he's worried. So worried he comes to see it for himself.
Sukuna rarely comes to your room. It's the only space you have for yourself, and he doesn't want to take that away from you. Your room is modest. You have a bed, a carpet, and a couple shelves to house the books he's gifted you. There's a desk where you can eat and read, and a doorway to the garden. There's an empty glass of water and a napkin next to your bed. You're still sleeping, but the door shutting behind him wakes you up, so he doesn't get to enjoy observing you in your natural habitat for long.
It's not the first time doors opening and closing woke you up. But you know this time is different. The servants are always quickly shuffling around the room, cleaning up and moving around. Uraume clanks with plates. There is no noise now, other than your strained breathing and a cough brewing in the back of your throat. Besides, the aura that Sukuna brings with him everywhere he goes is recognizable. Especially to you. Heavy.
You turn around, and meet the gaze of his four eyes. ''Master...'', you struggle to sit up, and even a little action like that has spots forming in your vision. Then a coughing fit hits you. You pick up the napkin and put it to your mouth.
Sukuna sees your whole body strain with the effort of coughing. And when you call him master, even your voice sounds different. He knows your morning voice. He missed hearing it, but this... this is not it. You sit with your head hung low, staring at the napkin between your hands. There's a fresh splatter of blood on it. But Sukuna scares you more than the progression of your illness.
''Are you mad at me?'', you ask timidly, meeting his gaze.
''I'm concerned.", he says and sits next to you. You curl up to make space for him. "Two weeks is a long time for a frail human like you to be sick.", he looks at you, scanning your form up and down.
"I rested and drank every tea Uraume told me to!", your defense mechanism kicks in, and you start babbling.
Sukuna dismisses you with a hand and a pained facial expression. "I know.", he says. His brows are furrowed now, and he's looking at the ground, lost in thought.
You feel guilty for annoying him again. You feel guilty for the whole thing, getting sick, draining the energy it takes him to heal you, robbing him of the time with you that he deserves. Owns. He is very generous with the way he treats you, having all that in mind.
You tug on his sleeve. "I'm sorry, Master... You deserve better.", and you're sobbing again. Sukuna gives you a pathetic look, but smiles as he pulls you into his embrace.
"Silly pet. I can survive a couple weeks without your assistance.", he says, rubbing your shoulder.
You run your fingers against the back of his hand mindlessly, not knowing how to respond. Caressing his knuckles, bones, veins... feeling his nails and their sharp tips against your sensitive skin. When you bring his palm up to your lips, your kiss stains it red with blood.
-
You still sleep with Sukuna sometimes. Less frequently, only on days when you feel well enough, and those are rare. You've lost weight by now, sickness making itself visible on your body. You're sitting on his lap and clinging to your robes, scared that he won't like you as much, that you won't live up to his standards. But Sukuna's demeanor about your illness has changed, as he seemed to sense something unusual about it. He flips you over so gently, like you're made of glass, and peppers kisses from your neck downwards, slowly undressing you as much as you allow him. When he takes you, he's so careful. Constantly checking you're comfortable and enjoying yourself. You feel so loved and relaxed, and pleasure comes so easy when you're in this state. It's not the first time Sukuna is this caring with you in bed, but this time is different. This time you can't help but feel like he's saying goodbye.
He holds you afterwards, tracing his fingers over the ridges of your spine and your shoulders. You were always little in his grasp, but now that he feels your protruding bones under his fingertips, you seem all the more vulnerable.
"Will you kill me?", you ask, breaking the silence.
Sukuna frowns. "Nonsense. Why would I do that?"
There's a gulp in your throat. "It won't be long before I can't even do this. I won't be of any use to you then...", you say.
"Stop.", he says sternly. "There's a lot more to you than what you provide me with in bed."
You smile to yourself, but there's still a hole in your chest. Your statement is still true, and you aren't comforted. But this is Sukuna, and you know that he's offered you quite a lot even with that little bit of reassurance. To your surprise, he speaks again.
"Don't upset yourself. It's been a long time since killing you crossed my mind.", he says. "Save the energy for something else."
You nod and thank him. Just moments later, you're asleep. Quicker than ever before, he notes. You usually love it when he lets you cuddle and talk to him. You would force your eyes open when you were sleepy, just to enjoy it longer.
He feels guilty. He's your master, he's responsible for your well being. Yet nothing he does seems to help you long term. Healing you is temporary and he knows that without accessing the source, it will never work. If he could, he would find what was making you sick and rip it out of you with his bare hands, crush it with the force of his palm. He would have to look deeper, open you, and for once, he thinks he can't open a human being. He thinks of you trashing, screaming, and worst of all, looking into his eyes. Just the thought of you like that makes his chest feel like a gaping cavity. Worst of all, he's sure you would let him. He's sure you would forgive him for spilling your blood, and find comfort in his arms again. If you survived, that is. What has he done to you? And to himself?
Now, your head rests on his chest, and you're snoring lightly. For once, a repetitive noise like that doesn't annoy him. For once, he wishes he could listen to it every night. One day, that noise will be the only thing audibly confirming you're still alive.
-
Months pass and you're only getting worse. You barely leave your room now, too weak to even do so. You eat little, and it's showing in your sunken cheeks and eyes. You feel yourself withering away, loosing color, drying like a dying flower. Sukuna is in grief. He struggles to look at you, and visiting you falls heavy on him every time. He always finds himself thinking afterwards. Regretting that he let himself get this attached, wishing that he could simply forget you. But it doesn't work that way.
He goes to see you, after avoiding you for a week. He's Sukuna, he doesn't have any shame. You're sleeping, like you usually are when he comes to visit you. Your snoring is laboured, and it sounds painful. This time, the doors and the silence don't wake you up. He watches you, curled up under a stack of blankets, rising and falling with your struggles to breathe. How foolish he was, to think forgetting you would be as easy as avoiding you for days. How evil he was, trying to forget you while you are still alive under his wing, still his responsibility. Still his.
He sits next to you and leans over you, fingertips ghosting over your face. The snoring stops and you flutter your eyes open, turning in bed and feeling his body next to yours. You smirk at him, eyes adjusting to the light, and smile when you recognize him. ''Master.'', your arms wrap around his neck as you welcome him, your voice dry, but lively as you beckon him closer. ''I missed you.''.
He comes down to plant a kiss to your forehead. ''I missed you too, darling.''. Oh, the things that escape his mouth when he's alone with you. He cups your face, enjoying how much healthier you look with a smile on your face. ''Feeling any better?'', he rubs your cheek, lingering closely above your face.
You nod, but both of you know you only feel better because you saw him. Still, the little surge of happiness that brings you gives you more energy than you've had the whole week. You wiggle to the edge of the bed, making space and inviting him to join you. Sukuna lies down, hooking one arm underneath your neck and pulling you flush against him.
You wrap your arm around him and lean your head against his shoulder. He's still as big as you remember him, unfaltering in the face of your illness. It's comforting. ''You didn't visit in a while. Were you busy?'', you ask, stroking his back. ''How were your days?''
''Monotone.'', he says. ''The villagers bring remedies for you every day, and wish for you to get well.'' It's no wonder. So many times, Sukuna found himself hesitating to kill just because you were sitting on his knee, dressed in something too pretty to be splattered with blood. In the local villages, word spread that you have ''domesticated'' Sukuna. As if such a thing was possible. Or was it?
''Oh?'', you smile. ''I didn't think they would notice my absence.''. You always were supposed to be Sukuna's accessory and nothing more. Remedies and good wishes make it sound like you're more important than just a pet. So it really is that obvious...
''They did.'', he says, and lowers his head, brushing his nose against your face. ''Some took that as an opportunity to gift me new pets.''
You blink at him, a bit taken aback by his honesty. You keep smiling anyways. ''Did you take any?'', you ask, and he sees nothing but genuine curiosity in your eyes. The truth is, you've had a lot of time to think about your place in Sukuna's mansion. You knew, especially in sickness, that you were never entitled to exclusivity with him. You knew that at some point you would have to be replaced, just by the virtue of being a mortal. A human, who would age and become ugly, wrinkled and useless. You were just unlucky enough to meet this fate sooner than you should've.
Sukuna sighs, the weight of the conversation shifting to him. ''Not to bed, no.'', he says.
You're quiet while you think of what to say. You still have a habit of picking words when you're with Sukuna, but the times when he would punish you for improper formulation are far behind you. "Why not?", you settle. You hope the implication is there, that you wouldn't be so mad even if he did.
Why not? Because he thinks it might break him. Because the image of someone else in your place, under him, feels unnatural and wrong. He thinks the guilt might eat him alive. For once in centuries, someone else's needs come before Sukuna's. He is gone, so far gone. You've raised his standards, and he's not sure anyone he takes now will be able to live up to them. Besides, training a new pet to fit your mold would take years, and even then... He couldn't train someone to love him. Not like you do.
''I wouldn't want you to hold back because of me.'', you say, and he realizes he's been quiet for too long. Years ago, if you dared to imply that Sukuna would do such a thing as hold back because of you, that he cared, you would've been minced meat ready for dinner. Now, he looks down at you tenderly when you say it. Well, a tender look from Sukuna is a docile one. You've gotten used to the way that Sukuna communicates love. Subtly, innocuously.
''Worry about getting well, pet.'', he shuts down the conversation, and moves away from you, sitting back on the bed. ''Any wishes? Food? Activities?'', he asks, and feels your forehead with the back of his hand.
Food? No, but... ''I'd like you to stay, please.'', you say, and take his hand with the two of yours, feeling it up with your thumbs.
Sukuna resists the urge to roll his eyes, knowing the thought of annoying him would upset you greatly. ''That's a given. Anything else?''
You pretend to think, then just babble your favorite food. Sukuna takes your order to Uraume. But when he comes back, you're already asleep again. He waits by your side, but you don't wake, so eventually he leaves. By the evening, the plate of your favorite food remains untouched.
-
You can't leave the bed on your own anymore. Sukuna carries you outside when you're feeling good enough. You barely have the strength to latch onto him securely. Still, it's hard to slip out of the grasp of his four arms. He says you've gotten pale. You lay in his lap and bask in the sun, while he tells you about his day or reads a book out loud for you to enjoy. You wish you could talk to him more, but your voice leaves you as days of endless coughing wreck your throat. No herbs and teas ease your condition anymore. You wait for your final day.
And Sukuna doesn't know when he's given up on the idea that you might get better. But he starts spending whole days with you, leaving your side only to sleep in his bed. He tends to almost all your needs personally. You think that if you asked him to get on his knees for you, he would. He is not familiar with this ache that brews in his chest when he looks to his side and doesn't see you there. It feels violating. To be as powerful as he is, and yet completely helpless in the face of the sickness that drains you in front of his very eyes.
He plays with your thinning hair one morning, and you look at him from his lap, as adoringly as always. ''Isn't it funny?.'', you say, and he snaps out of his thoughts to look at you. ''I always imagined dying by your hand.'', you kiss his hand again, planting your dry, blue lips against his knuckles. ''Who would have thought?''.
You, you little human. You made him feel like a fool, like a coward. You made him feel powerless. Who could ever get away unscathed with making Sukuna feel like this? The thought of killing you now, even out of mercy, fills him with horror. He thinks he couldn't live carrying the burden of your death on his back. It's already hard for him as is.
When he's not with you, he withers away in his room, waiting. And when the servants finally come, and tell him you're at your last strengths, he feels as tense as he feels relieved. The servants shake in fear of his reaction, and he simply dismisses them. In a thousand years of his existence, he doesn't remember having to prepare to enter a room. His hand trembles as he brings it up to push the door open. He dreads what awaits him inside.
He expected blood, hysteria, chaos, yet there's none of it when he walks in. Just the pained noises of your breathing. A servant, your favorite, sits by your side and wipes sweat off your forehead. She talks to you in a comforting tone and pats your head gently. When he walks in the room, she lowers her head and moves to leave. It's only a second, but he sees the sad look on your face. ''Stay.'', he orders, and the servant bows and thanks him.
You move your attention to him, raising your hand to greet him weakly. He picks it up and bends down to kiss it. There's tears in your eyes as he settles into a seat next to you, and you open your mouth in an attempt to say something.
''Easy now.'', he shushes you, and helps you into his lap. You lean back, looking at him through a blur. His features appear even more doubled through the tears, and you still find his beauty mesmerizing. Your master. Your own little god and protector. Although he regrets it, you've never claimed the title of his spouse. Yet, he still stuck by your side, until parted by death. In sickness and in health.
He wipes your tears, and the mouth he conjures onto his hand kisses your forehead. One set of his hands caresses your face, the other massages the tension out of your bony shoulders. Sukuna knows how important it is for you to pass in peace. He doesn't want to curse you, or have despair turn you into a curse. "Relax now.", his voice is so soothing, as if lulling you to sleep. "It won't be long". You weep. What did an ordinary human like you do to deserve this honor? To be comforted on their death bed by a god. To be guided to death by him.
"Master.", you sob. "I'm so scared..."
Delicate touch against your skin. Sharp nails grazing your cheek ever so slightly, just barely enough to make their presence known. "Have no fear.", Sukuna looms over you like a snowdrop. "Where you go now, pain won't follow.". You speak to him a little longer. Tell him all the things you always wanted to tell him, but were scared of the consequences. Dangerous words, ones that were rarely associated with Sukuna. Love. And Sukuna is attentive, so human. Your blinking slows and you find comfort in his voice, as he returns every loving word back to you. Your pained breathing follows, and your eyelids are so heavy. But the sight of him is so hypnotizing, you wish you never had to look away. "You are so brave, my little dove. Go now, be free.". You were too good for this wretched palace anyways. The sight of him is etched in your memory as you close your eyes. "It was a pleasure to have you by my side.", you listen, feeling control over your body slip through your fingers. When you can't move, or feel his touch, you still hear his calm voice. "When you're ready, come back to me. I'll be waiting for your return.". Then everything is quiet, for you and for him. The servants cries are muffled by the sheets, where she has her head pressed by your side.
The hallways, silent except for the busy tapping of feet. Outside, the wind blows petals off of blooming flowers, leaving them bare and stranded. Autumn is here to carry you away.
Servants hold their breath when Sukuna walks by. One wrong look at him and the walls would be painted red. Just like before. Before you. And it's not long before Sukuna looks like a monster again - red eyes and a permanent frown etched on his face. Villagers bring bouquets, and lay them to the right of his throne, where you used to sit. He stares them all down, and only for a moment thinks that maybe, humans are not the scum he thought they were. But then he remembers, they only mourn you because you held him back from his destructive tendencies. Scum.
And he kills again. The first is a villager from afar, where news of your passing hasn't reached. Ripped to shreds for mentioning you. The women who screamed, their blood soaks the carpets and seeps through the wooden floor, dripping down to the cellars. He feels like himself again, unhinged, unbeatable.
Until the day is over, and he goes back to his empty room. His cold, empty bed, and the old habit of reaching for you in his sleep, only to grab nothing instead. And the crocheted figures of the two of you on his nightstand, watching him as he struggles to sleep alone. He can't bear it. So he leaves, and doesn't come back for days, weeks, months.
Smoke clouds the skies on the horizon once again, after years and years of peace and clarity. As far as the eye stretches, the world will know of Sukuna's wrath. But as thrilling as it feels to conquer again, when the village is burned and ash covers the grass on the ground, the thought of you still lingers. Your devastated eyes the first time he's killed before you. The first time he's felt guilty about his monstrous nature. When he comes back, no one's warm embrace awaits him. No one's there to brighten up his day. No amount of blood shed and villages burned replace the emptiness you left behind in his heart.
The grief settles, and sits heavy in Sukuna's chest, as he assumes position in his lonely throne again, and gazes at the row of people waiting to beg, talk, offer... bore him. Another eternity of boredom. An eternity of picking through thousands of humans, in vain hopes of finding you again. In vain hopes of recognizing you, even if it's lifetimes from now, when the last memory of your face has already faded from his mind. When generations change, and the thought of a monster like Sukuna being capable of tenderness vanishes. When the fire in his chest, ignited by love, is already a memory so distant, that recalling it feels surreal.
Maybe he will forget you by then. Maybe times will harden him again, and the idea of a pet becoming his lover will make him laugh. But for now, the thought of finding you in a crowd, taking you in his arms and never letting go, is his comfort and safe place. For now, he will wait for you. As long as it takes, like a stone, unyielding against the passing of time.
#sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna x reader#ryomen sukuna#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk angst#jjk fluff#sukuna fluff#sukuna angst#sukuna#soft sukuna#i love bastardizing sukuna in my fics#also this is totally leading me into a part 2 w reincarnated reader#yes weve heard it a thousand times#idc it makes me happy
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I've never sent a request before, but I'm fiending for more adam, like anything, anything at all
Benefit of the doubt
Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader
Viewer discretion is advised
Warnings: Angst(?), Not exactly fluff at the end but it gets better, typical Adam TW’s, reader low-key high-key has a complex about being loved, this is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader. (Also Y/n isn’t used, which also surprised me, the author, LMAO)
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Request Box: Open
Word count: 1760
A/N: Hi! Thanks for the request! I haven’t had a chance to write something that was originally my own idea in a while, so this was very refreshing! I’ve had this idea since I’ve watched the show so I hope you enjoy it!
I’m entirely up for making a small series from this oneshot, but I would need to know y’all’s opinion on it! (So don’t feel scared to let me know if you want some more of this idea in my Request box/the replies on this post!!)
Also Adam may be slightly OOC but please just chalk it up to him not yet getting his ego’s dick sucked 24/7
Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, let me know if you do!
Proofread but of course could have left mistakes!
You’ve existed for almost all of human existence, Almost.
You were the 4th being to be created during the time of Eden. But unlike the other 3, you weren’t human. In fact, you technically never lived before. An honestly hopeless existence, yet it was so beautiful in every way. But for what purpose? Well…
You were created shortly after Eve ate the apple, before she and eventually Adam committed the first act of sin that caused evil to latch onto humanity like a leech.
The reason for your existence was simple. To be Adam’s new spouse, except for when after he died. From the very moment Eve bit the fruit of temptation, it was already decided she would hold no place in heaven. Adam was given mercy due to him not possessing any knowledge of the fruit Eve had shared with him, he trusted her wholeheartedly. Which is exactly why heaven gave him mercy… no, pity would be a better choice of words.
Upon your creation you learned immediately of the happenings before your existence. About Lilith and Eve, and about Lucifer
And so, after Adam and Eve were casted away from the Garden, they continued to live their lives, fostering the existence of mankind for the rest of time. And when they eventually died, Adam was given pity while Eve was thrown to the wayside, the vast unknown.
You thought it was finally your time to experience existence with the one you loved, the one you were made for. Of course you never would know life as he did but surely your life never-after life could be just as meaningful as his.
How excited you were, how completely enamored by the thought of it. But there was a problem with that, Adam had grown into a new person, he was meant to of course, he was human. But he had grown selfish, abhorrent… insecure.
You understood why, to be betrayed by not one but two of his wives for the same person. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he could be feeling. Before you were to meet your future husband, Sera informed you that he had asked for a mask, and once on, he has refused to take it off.
That didn’t bother you, it’s irrelevant to your love for him. You've only heard descriptions of his features. Short Brown hair, gold eyes, bushy eyebrows, some scruff on his chin. All in all, he sounded perfectly fine, ordinary even. But even then it’s his choice to wear the mask, so you’ll respect it.
Finally, the time he arrived in heaven, and when Sera finally introduced you, his new spouse, the one to whom would be by his side for the rest of forever.
He rejected you outright.
“What?” Your breath hitched as you stuttered over the word, the sharp inhale of your lungs through your mouth flicked through the air.
Sera looked just as shocked as you but she quickly regained her composure “What is the meaning of this Adam?”
“If you think I’m going to let my life get fucked over by another one of your “gifts” well, you’ve got another thing coming!” He crossed his arms and shook his head defyingly. “I’ve already learned my lesson with those last 2 bitches.”
“Adam I’m sorry that happened to you but I would never-“ almost like lightning his finger shot to your mouth, shushing you.
“Save it, Sweetcheeks, I really don’t care what you have to say, so just stay there and look pretty, k?” His hand fell and grabbed the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks together, his LED mask flashing a sharp smile.
You saddeningly looked down at the clouds below you.
“Adam!” Sera’s voice sounded through the air, still soft but firm, she continued, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Divine judgment allowed you to be the first human soul in heaven, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to give your new spouse that same grace.”
Slowly your eyes looked up at Sera with a soft smile. Adam only groaned “Ugh, Fine but don’t be fuxking annoying, capiche?” You nod your head quickly.
“Very good, glad we have it settled.” Sera gives a quick smile, “now, I have some business to take care of so I’ll leave you two alone to get to know one another” With that, Sera flew away leaving the both of you alone.
The silence was thick in the air, the only sound being the occasional wind breeze blowing past. The sunlight creeps in through the clouds painting an orange sky above you both. In every sense of the word, it was perfect.
It was almost funny. You had waited so long to finally meet him, your true love, the one you were made for. All the things you dreamed about, the laughs you’d have together, the warm embrace of the person who you loved. But now… you didn’t know what to say…
“I’m… happy to finally meet you.” Your voice is quiet, almost non-audible. “I’ve been waiting for you since… well, forever…”
He doesn’t respond. He seems to be transfixed on something below you both. You train your eyes on whatever he’s watching only to see the dark cavernous abyss below you. Finally he breaks his silence.
“The fuck is that?” He asked pointing down, a sound of genuine intrigue hidden behind his abrasive voice
“That’s hell?” You stated confused “where would-be sinners will go to be punished, didnt you k-“ you suddenly realized that perhaps Adam really didn’t know what hell was. It was only created relatively recently, after Eve and Him ate the apple, of course he wouldn’t know. “it’s also where Lucifer-“
“Don’t fucking say his name.” Adam spoke, his voice rough in his speech. LED mask putting a harsh frown on his face. “Let’s get one thing straight M”Kay babe, if you’re my “new spouse” that’s something you should remember.” The “new spouse” was said with a tone clearly meant to mock you.
“Sorry…”
“Ugh, It’s fine, just don’t do it again.” He groaned before a wicked smile crept onto his mask “Sooo, that means he’s going to be stuck with all the wasteful beings of existence, HA fuxkin’ hilarious. Guess that makes them the losers and us the Winners!”
His laugh filled the air, the sound was like music to your ears, sure maybe it wasn’t really what you’d hoped he’d fine funny, but you loved it all the same but eventually his laugh died down
Silence again… in admits of all of it you suddenly was sparked with a thought “oh!” Adam looked confused at the random exclamation. “I had almost forgotten… I brought you something, as a welcome gift or was it a nice to meet you gift? Both? Eh, it doesn’t matter but the point is-“ you suddenly snap your fingers.
Golden light began shining, the light seemed like liquid hot magma as it moved and molded slowly into a shape. Light seemed to be overlapping and churning into itself, forming your desired outcome. With one final snap of your fingers, the gleaming gold liquid took hold, and quickly hardened to a solid.
The object that had formed quickly fell down, landing in your arms with a light thud.
“I’m still learning this creation stuff, so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect but-“ you hold out the object in your arms as an invitation to grab it “I learned from Sera that you liked to play guitar when you were alive, so I thought you might like to have one here…”
Adam looked at the instrument in your hands. The base color was gold, the neck was pearly white with gold strings. To be honest it looked more like a harp then anything, like if a guitar and a harp had a baby.
Silence again. Did he not like it? Did he hate it? You go to pull it back to you and apologize when suddenly it’s ripped out from your hands.
“Holyshit, this is sick as Fuck!” Adam immediately started playing some rifts on the new guitar. The sound wasn’t what you were expecting but you guess Sera was right about his talent with the instrument. The whole time his mask had a wide and sharp smile as he mimicked guitar sounds with his voice, the occasional laugh leaving his mouth.
“I’m really glad you like it” you say, a sigh of relief leaving your body.
Adam looked at you, one you missed. He saw how relieved you were, how nice you were being. No person who supposedly loved him ever gifted him something, well, one other did. Someone he trusted and loved more than everyone, anyone. But look how that ended, with them being removed from the garden, away from an eternity of happiness until he died. All from someone giving him what he thought was nothing but love, a gift.
But he could see that this was different, you were different. When Eve gave him the apple, she didn’t explain what it was or why she wanted him to eat it, even when he asked her she didn’t explain. But with you, you had not only given him something you knew he liked but also expressed the reason behind it. Yes, you were different, even Adam could see it.
“Anyways, thanks for the axe, I guess…” Adam for the first time was stunned, but quickly he continued “What was the thing that Sera chick said about me and “divine judgment” or whatever the fuck? That she gave me the “benefit of the doubt…”
You were a bit confused but continued listening, “I guess I should at least try to give you a chance, since you got me this sick ass guitar an’ shit.” Your face lit up, you about began to speak before you were, once again, shushed “B-B-But-” his finger tapped your lips with each repeated syllable ”-only a chance. If you betray me like those last 2 bitches then you’re done, got it?”
To say you were overjoyed would be an understatement, a smile quickly plastered across your face as you quickly nodded your head
“Alright good, so uh, what do ya say about showing me the best places to get a bite to eat around here, I could really go for some ribs right about now.”
“ I’d… love to, thank you Adam”
“Yeah don’t mention it Sweetcheeks” Adam quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you two began walking.
Maybe you will get your eternity of happiness.you can only pray you do.
#Hazbin hotel#hazbin#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#hazbin hotel x gn reader#hazbin hotel x female reader#hazbin hotel x male reader#Hazbin x gn reader#Hazbin x female reader#Hazbin x male reader#adam x reader#Adam x gn reader#Adam x female reader#Adam x male reader#hazbin hotel adam#hazbin adam#hazbin hotel adam x reader#Hazbin Adam x reader#Hazbin hotel Adam x gn reader#Hazbin hotel Adam x female reader#Hazbin hotel Adam x male reader#Hazbin Adam x gn reader#Hazbin Adam x female reader#hazbin adam x male reader#light angst#angst with a happy ending#x reader#x male reader#character x male reader#fanfic
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Hold me close, Hold me fast
Paring: Happy Hogan/Reader
Tags: female or male or no gender reader, halloween, halloween costumes, insecurity, domestic fluff
Summary: It's Halloween, and __________ is supposed to be handing candy out with their boyfriend, Happy. So why hasn't he come to join them yet?
Word Count: 1,080
Current Date: 20/10/2022
Picture this: it’s Halloween night (a Monday), and the only trick-or-treaters are the teenagers without curfew and their kid siblings they’re forced to hang out with. Everyone else went out last night, but there’s an unspoken tradition that the 31st of October must be spooky. Nonetheless, you sit on the front verge with a near-empty pail, dressed like the pumpkin-faced man from that viral Halloween meme video. You know, with the original ghostbusters theme in the background. So far, you’ve handed out candy alone, but that’s about to change.
You leave the pail by the bottom step and enter the place. It’s only been seven months since you moved in with Happy, and still, there’s so much to unpack. At least there are a few decorations, including a framed picture of you both in the teacups at a carnival. You can’t see Happy; last you saw him, he was on the couch in his suit and loosened tie, playing a gatcha game on his phone. You lift your pumpkin-faced mask to sit on your head and enter the bedroom.
Good call: the shower is running. The Halloween costume you both picked out is still on the end of his side of the bed, and a trail of clothes leads to the ensuite. Tie, shirt, pants, socks…briefs. He’s left the door open. You stay at the threshold and knock on the door.
“Thought you were going to join me out the front?”
There’s a splutter from the other side of the shower screen. “__________! You scared me.”
“Boo,” you say half-heartedly, “…sorry.” Another pause, “Is everything okay?”
The water shuts off. Silently, Happy makes his way out of the shower, wrapped in a navy towel. He passes you, walking to the side of the bed he sleeps on, the Halloween costume between you both. This pause is so very pregnant that you’re unsure if you’ve overstepped on something. You rack your memory to find a reason for this; timewise, it’s still very early in your relationship.
“It’s been a long day,” he tells you, putting on his underclothes.
“I know; I’ve had one too.”
“How can I say this…” he rubs a hand over his face. “I’m too old for this kind of thing.”
“Are you saying you’re too adult to dress up?” You cross your arms over your chest. If he’s saying he’s too old to play dress up for the benefit of the neighbourhood trick-or-treaters, you wonder what it says about you.
Happy blinks. “No, not –” He sighs. “It came out wrong.” He shakes his head and moves to put on his pyjamas from under his pillow. “…maybe next year, I can do it.”
“Is this about the costume itself?” you ask. “Help me out, Harry; I’m trying my best here.”
He sits on the bed and motions for you to join him. The mattress is soft under your touch, but it’s more soothing to be in Happy’s arms, smelling his soap and shampoo, feeling his unshaved face bristle against your skin. You pull him into your side, and together you lay back against the backboard for a moment of peace.
“I don’t look so good lately, __________.” He mumbles into the space between your shoulder and neck, his breath hot against your skin. “Need to hit the gym more.”
“Oh, Harry,” you pull him in tighter. “That’s why?”
He moves a little, settling into your embrace. “I tried on the pants earlier in the week. They…don’t fit. They do, but not.” You frown but stay quiet. “They’re my size, and they look okay, but when I tried on the outfit, I didn’t feel okay.”
“Then screw the pants,” you say.
He sits up, looking back at you, confused. “What?”
“The pants. Screw them.” You dismount the bed and take the pants from where they sit at the end of the bed. “You don’t have to wear them if they make you feel like crap.”
“But you’re in your costume already,” he remarks.
You shrug and take the mask completely off. “I’m pretty sure that if my boyfriend feels awful, then it’s my right, as his partner, to do what it takes to feel better and to make the best of the situation.” You toss the mask and his pants toward the hamper, where they thud miserably against the side of the basket. “It’s the law.”
“Really, now?” Happy asks, leaning back onto the bedhead.
“Truly.” You retort. “So, get up, get your robe, and we can do something nice for the night. We can rent a movie, bake some sugar cookies….”
“I get to pick the movie,” Happy demands. You know it will be Downtown Abbey as if the poor DVD hasn’t been through enough already. But that’s okay because there’s nothing better than seeing your boyfriend happy.
You faux-bow and throw a wink his way. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
---
Later, you hear a knock on the door. It’s Mr Lee, your neighbour. He’s got an empty pail in his hands and a slight smile on his face.
“I noticed you left your bucket out here, __________, so I took the liberty to hand the candy out for you.”
You take the pail from him. “You’re too kind, Mr Lee,” you tell him. “How’s your arthritis?”
“Oh, you know what this weather does to me,” he shakes his head. “And your Harold?”
You bob your head. “He’s good.”
He nods, “He’s a good man, you know. Everyone knows it but him.” At that, he touches your elbow and makes his way back to his townhouse.
You close the door behind you, latching the lock shut. When you turn around, you see Happy on the couch. The film is paused, and so are your words.
“Mr Lee?” He asks.
“Yeah. Gave me back our pail,” you put it on the couch between the both of you. “And he told me that you’re a good man.” Happy rolls his eyes, but you lean over, place a kiss between his mouth and jaw, and linger near him for a second too long. “What was that for?”
You shrug, “I suppose if you keep feeling like you’re less than I think you are, then I will have to remind you the only way I know how.”
“And?” He asks, “what happens if I realise that I’m more than I think?”
You kiss him slowly, capturing his lips with your own. “I’ll love you, Happy. No matter what.”
#happy x reader#happy hogan x reader#happy hogan/reader#marvel fanfic#marvel x reader#pendragonfics#chaotic--lovely
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Fashion designer Bakugou who sees you at his favorite cafe one morning. Your clothes are comfortable and colorful, but they obscure the beauty of your body he tells himself. So he marches over to you, wearing all black and a skull tshirt with heavy combat boots. It doesn't help that he's also drop dead gorgeous, so when he hovers over you and breathes out. "Let me undress you." Your brain short circuits. "I can dress you much better, let me." He doesn't so much ask as he commands, so you find yourself nodding along, unsure why he's interested in you in the first place.
When you get back to his studio he's measuring your figure, his large hot hands skimming over your breasts, your hips, your waist. The more he discovers, your waist would fit perfectly in his hands, and your tits are begging him to taste, the more he struggles to keep professional. He just wanted to have you as a model, he swears to himself. But when he's measuring your ass, he starts to lose it.
"Who the fuck let you out of the house in those grandma clothes when your body is this fucking amazing?"
The words slip out of him in a huff, and you blush bright red. "I-I don't wear grandma clothes." You try to defend yourself, but looking around his studio at the slinky tight fit dresses with corsets and plunging necklines, you realize that yeah- maybe you do wear grandma clothes.
"Just wait until I design something for you, you're going to look even more beautiful. Especially as my date." He's never been nervous asking someone out before, but damnit your curves and sweet, shy personality were a combination he was loathe to let go.
"Your date?" You felt like you were struggling to breathe. The super hot designer wanted to go on a date with you? You knew you were bigger, its not like you're oblivious. But never once did he make you feel lesser for being fat, he just seemed upset that you tried to hide yourself.
"If you'll have me." His voice was suddenly softer, his red eyes gentle as he looks up at you from where he's on his knees, the measuring bunched in his fist.
"Yes." You breathe out, knowing this chance encounter would change your life.
#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bakugou x reader#jasmina writes 🌸#kacchan#thick dick boys#happy belated birthday#happy birthday bakugou#fashion designer au
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