Latest Posts by slapmewithacroc - Page 3

PLEASE LORD HAVE MERCY IM CLAWING AT THE WALLS RN

🫧𓇼*ੈTIME AFTER TIME✩‧₊˚🎐

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ “If your lost, you can look, and you will find me..time after time. If you fall I will catch you, I’ll be waiting…time after time” -Cyndi Lauper 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

Summary: after a one night stand with Joost you both can’t seem to get each other out of y’all’s heads. You were always on his mind since then and you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond boy with the cute accent… until your paths cross once more. This time Joost won’t walk away

Note: (all credit for the edit above goes to MCRBATS on TikTok!!) this is a part two for “only stay with you one more night” ITS FINALLY OUT GUYSSS!! I beg for more requests because yall give me the most scrumptious ideas for fics ever!! Also, this is kinda bad so please don’t jump me!!!

Warnings: SUGGESTIVE, Talk of past sexual relations, mostly fluff!

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It had been months, you hadn’t seen Joost since that night that left you both achey in a good and bad way. You’d pondered on your thoughts and feelings towards the blondie and you mentally scolded yourself for thinking he’d come back for you. It obviously meant nothing to him, he probably sleeps with people left and right. You were no different to all the others in his mind.

But you were. Joost couldn’t get your name out his mind. Couldn’t get your pretty face and voice out of his mind. He kept thinking about the way you said moaned his name and how soft your hands were against his rough ones. He wanted to go back in time and make himself bite the curb for leaving your apartment that early morning.

You were so so so much different. Sure, this one night stand wasn’t his first rodeo but the way he looked at you was. The way he felt towards you was, he didn’t know why. He really didn’t. He’d only fully been around you for around 5 hours but those moments gave him a feeling he’d never felt before. He felt so much love, care, and warmth towards your personal being and just wanted to protect you from everything.

He’d ruined it though, we walked through and out your front door that morning. He felt cold as soon as he did but there was no going back now. He had in his signature white earbuds in while he looked out the window of the Uber that was taking him home, his mind still on you. And just like that, that was the last time he’d seen your beautiful face and your addicting scent.

The sound of his friend, apson calling his name pulled him out of his trance. He was setting up for his concert in a few hours, when he was preforming it was the only time he could get you off his mind…well somewhat at least. He went over and helped out apson and the rest of his crew and friends. Helping them set everything up and getting everything done for tonight.

You on the other hand were at your friend, Alexis’s house just hanging out when she interrupted you while you were talking. Her eyes were wide like she’d just remembered something and her movements were one of excitement, taking you aback. “Oh my god!! Sorry to interrupt you but I totally forgot about something, so Mia, Rayo, and Lacey are coming over later and we’re all going to a musicians concert Mia likes!!”

You stare at her with a smile and sarcasm laced in your voice, “now why the hell would you wanna interrupt my story to tell me about that?” You say with a chuckle, “beaacauseee…I want you to come with! It’ll be fun and I know the others would love to have you there too!” You furrow your eyebrows, this reminded you of that night where they all begged you to come out to that club with them where you met that boy you haven’t been able to get your mind off of.

You take a deep sigh, “Lex you know how I feel about things like that.” You reply but Alexis isn’t ready to back down just yet, “no I know but this concert will be different, it’s not as big as mainstream concerts and Mia said it’ll be fun!!” Alexis says looking at you with those puppy eyes and pouting in a sarcastic way.

You groan and just like you did that night months ago you agree. Around an hour later the rest of your friends show up a to get ready. You hang with Rayo fixing your makeup before looking over to him, “who are we even seeing anyways?” You ask him curiously, “man I don’t remember, I just remember Mia putting on his music and showing me a picture of him. Good looking guy and his music isn’t bad whatsoever…soo” Rayo replies with a smile

‘Whatever..’ you think, ‘at least this will be something to get me out the house and doing something.’ You sigh as your friends squeal and run to the car, excited to go. You laugh at their childishness and run after them. It takes around 20 minutes to arrive and the whole time your driving you feel this sensation in your chest, you can’t stop thinking about Joost…he was always on your mind don’t get me wrong but something about this was just different.

Joost was backstage, talking with his friends and trying to calm his excitement for the concert. But something about this felt oddly familiar, he’d never felt this before any concert. His mind now fully immersed and focused on you, he shakes his head as apson calls him over. Trying to shake the thought of you out his mind, as he gets up from where he was sat to walk to apson.

“Het concert begint zo, zijn jullie er klaar voor?” (The concerts gonna start soon, are you ready?) Apson says to Joost, clapping his hand on his shoulder with a smile. Joost takes a breath and smiles at apson, “Ja, ben je er klaar voor? Heb je nog ergens hulp bij nodig?” (Yeah, are you ready? Do you need help with anything else?) Joost replies, nudging apson with his shoulder, this makes apson clasp his hands together. “Ah, Ja, dat ben ik helemaal vergeten. Kom met me mee” (ah, yes, I completely forgot. Come with me..) apson says as the two men walk to set one last thing up.

You and your friends finally arrived to the concert. You all scooted to the front, people being nice enough to let y’all shuffle through. You and your friends talked before music played out making everyone around you, plus your friends scream with excitement. A guy runs out on stage, dressed in a while collared shirt with a black tie and black pants.

He has…short, messy, blond hair.. the same hair Joost had. No way, that wouldn’t be him- that was what you thought before he turned to face the crowd. Those features. Holy shit. It was him. He spoke into the microphone and you immediately knew from the sound of that pretty accent. It was Joost, the boy you couldn’t get out of your head.

Your mind races and you can’t decide if you should be excited or mortified that he’s standing right in front of you. On one hand, this is the boy you’ve wanted to be reunited with for months. On the other hand, it’s embarrassing to face him now. You secretly hope he’ll see you and you’re also hoping he won’t.

He sings his song, “offline” as he looks at the crowd before he sees it. He thinks he’s imagining things, you’ve been a constant in his head for months but there’s no way you’re here right now. No way you’re looking up at him with the same shocked expression that his face definitely has. His voice slightly shakes but he keeps on singing. He’s imagining shit, god he needs to get it together

But it wasn’t his imagination. You were there, for the rest of the concert you and Joost made continuous eye contact. And after the concert was done and Joost was backstage he was his wracking his brain for any way he could catch you. He couldn’t let you leave again, he just got given a second chance and he wasn’t about to give it up.

You were thinking the same things, you were alone in your mind the whole concert. You were thinking and planing about what to do after this, once the concert was done and everyone was leaving. You panicked, “u-um you guys can leave without me, I can get an Uber back home! I need to do something..! I’ll text you when I get home safe!” You say

You knew they wouldn’t let you so you run away before they can protest against your words. You look around, after your far enough away. You second guess yourself once your by yourself. Your heart is racing but your thoughts won. What if he didn’t wanna see you? What is he forgot about you and everything about that night.? You shake your head and realize what you’re doing, your friends probably haven’t gotten far.

Before you can run back to your friends you hear heavy footsteps, you turn around frantically. And you finally see Joost turning the corner to the hallway to where you were. He turns his head when you both lock eyes, both of you freezing. You stared at each other, breathing heavily and hearts racing.

“J-Joost..?” You stutter out, your voice weak and body stiff. He immediately breaks out of his trace at the sound of that voice that he’d missed so much. He runs towards you and embraces you, it was strange…it really was. This amount of affection for someone you hadn’t seen a few months and only spend one night together.

But it felt like you both were intertwined, sewn together in some way (Adrianne Lenker mentioned?!) He smiles, picking you up and spinning you around. “Holy shit it’s really you, fuck I’m so sorry. I regretted leaving as soon as I closed your door. I’m sorry if I made you feel used or unimportant, your not and i-“ he’s put off my a soft kiss being pressed to his lips

You grab his face as his hands pull your waist to be flush against his hips. Both of you are out of breath, pressing messy and rough kisses to each others lips. You moan softly on his lips and joost took his opportunity to slip his tounge into your mouth. Nothing but love shown in the kisses as he presses you up against the wall behind you, towering over you as you finally pull away.

“I’m not letting you go again, I hope you’re aware of that..” he says with his signature smile and you giggle before responding, “I wouldn’t have it any other way..” you say before he lowers his head, catching your lips in his once more

𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ “ Wanna listen to the sound of you blinking, wanna listen to your hands soothe. Listen to your heart beating, listen to the way you move” - Adrianne lenker 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋

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TAGLIST: @timewillpasssoon @poppymelonz @pickle-juice-and-vodka @imsiriuslyreal

im very in love with book jamie at the moment…

no caption just him

Discovering yourself

Request: Hiiiii. Would you please write something with Aegon x f!reader? I would love to see something where the characters are opposite. Would it be okay for the reader to be a bit shy and socially awkward and loves books and music but at the same time wants to experience a bit of life but doesn’t know how and is a bit afraid to get out of her comfort zone. Once she gets to know someone she talks and is super fun but it takes her a bit of time. And then there is of course Aegon who we know is quite the opposite. The reader fancies him and the two fall in love? Could that be possible? Thank you.

w.c: 3.4k

c.w: baratheon!reader, ooc aegon probably, hes a bit of an ass sometimes, fluff, insecure/shy reader, sfw! no smut since the request didnt state it, not proofread

masterlist

Unlike the rest of your family you had been more than happy when your family received an invitation to stay at kings landing in the red keep for a helena's name day festivities as she had become close with your sister floris. You had not been able to come with the rest of the family last time as you had been in bed rest. 

You couldn't even imagine how big the red keep had been and while on the way there you could barely sit still your sister hitting you on the shoulder more than once to stop you from moving around.

“Welcome back to the keep.” Alicent greeted the rest of your family before he eyes locked onto yours, “I don't believe I recognized you.”

You open your mouth to say something but there's a pause and nothing manages to come out so you put your head down as your father speaks, “my daughter, lady y/n, she was bedridden the last time we came to visit.”

Alicent lets out an acknowledged hum and you keep your head down fiddling with the fabric on your dress. You're sure your father will scold you later. 

“a pleasure, this is my son aemond and his lady wife heleana, aegon could not be here..”

you can hear the annoyance in her tone but choose to not acknowledge it and greet the other two siblings.

more formalities are exchanged between the two families, “it is so wonderful for house baratheon to join us for heleanas nameday festivities, she has grown quite fond of your family-” 

the doors of the room you were all in burst open, all head whip back to look in shock, “prince aegon!”

“I am here.”

“You are late.” you hear his mother hiss quietly to him as he stands in place next to his siblings.”

“apologies, my son prince aegon.” 

alicent introduces her son. You had heard the stories of Targaryen beauty and thought the two Targaryen siblings were gorgeous but Aegon, despite the fact he looked tired and a little sloppy, was a different level of beauty. He hadn't even needed to try and he wowed you. 

as if he could feel your stare he locks eyes with you and you shyly put your head down towards the floor oblivious to the smirk that's grown on his face.

Some more pleasantries were exchanged but you didn't bother to lift your head still feeling his stare. You wish you weren't so awkward, if you had been anything like your sisters who could keep their heads up high and smile while locking eyes while you could barely hold a sentence with these people.

You barely even notice you had all been dismissed until you felt yourself being dragged away by your sister floris. A part of you can't get the idea of Aegon out of your head, even  as you fall asleep that night you wonder if you'll get the opportunity to speak with him.

Today was meant to be the first of a three day long festival including a grand feast, a tourney and finally a ball all in honor of heleana.

The second you walk outside you are immediately hit with hundreds of people, it was definitely a celebration with music, people dancing, some watching the performers. It was magical, you had never seen such life brought to one place before. 

You and the rest of your family were sitting in one of the higher tables closer to the targaryens, you watch as floris eagerly runs up to greet heleana while you stand with your sisters who make many comments on the festivities.

“I can't believe he can put that whole sword down his throat.”

“It was just on fire too, how preposterous.” 

“Maybe he just has a lot of practice. Do you think he’s fond of men.”

Cassandra and Ellyn turn to you in horror while maris lets out your name in a chuckle while hitting your shoulder.

You shake your head with a grin but are horrified to hear the sound of laughter behind you and turn around.

“Prince aegon.” you're all clearly mortified as you all bow but he moves to stand next to you and stare at the man. 

“If he is not he should start to be there is so much potentially to be held.” 

“I am so sorry my prince i should not have-”

He waves you off with his hand and continues to look on in the crowd, “these events are such a bore they practically force you to make such a joke.”

“I did not mean to offend-”

“You talk like my brother.”

You have nothing else to say back instead just stand and watch the crowd disperse. It is only then you notice your sisters have all walked off elsewhere and you curse them in your head as the two of you stand in silence aside from the gulps Aegon takes from his chalice.

“What do you think about her?”

He points towards a contortionist not too far from where the two of you were standing. She had her leg way over her head.

“She is very pretty.”

“Oh come on, you must have some other comments to make.”

You tilt your head at her as she moves into a split and lays down flat on her stomach.

“Men must certainly fight for her attention, I am sure she is a rather capable woman.”

Your words are faster than a bird and quieter than a mouse but Aegon certainly hears them and bursts out into a roar of laughter causing those around you to turn and stare. Your face flushes and you stare at the ground as Aegon composes himself still chuckling. 

“You are a scandalous lady, y/n.”

You shake your head, “I do not know why I said such a thing.” 

“You said it because it is true, look,” he leans in closer to you, much too close, and subtly points, “look at lord simon staunton he looks like he wants to eat her alive.”

You gasp and bring a hand to your mouth as you take notice and look back at Aegon who has a smile on his face, “he is old enough to be her grandfather, no even her great grandfather! That is ridiculous.” 

Aegon shrugs, taking another sip of wine with a chuckle. “I rather think that's what he likes about it.”  

You can't help but laugh for the first time in this whole conversation keeping your head down. Once you finally lift your head and look at him he's already looking at you. You feel a rush of heat flood your face, he stares at you for a moment longer, his eyes drift down to your lips. He opens his mouth to speak but before he can you hear your fathers voice call out your name.

“I must go.” you quickly turn, feeling embarrassed about the sudden tension between the two of you and barely hear him as you rush away, “i shall see you lady y/n”

You can barely relax the rest of the day your conversion with Aegon playing in your mind over and over. It was the first time you had been sop open with somebody you barely knew. It was so refreshing to be able to joke and laugh with someone who was not your family.that night you toss and turn in bed with a big smile on your face. In turn you cannot sleep so you sit up and contemplate what to do. 

You would normally read a book but your father wouldn't allow you to take any on this trip saying there was no need for it but right now youre groaning and fall flat back on the bed. 

An idea suddenly hits you, you remember from the tour one of the guards had given you there was a library not too far from your room. It wouldn't be an issue to go and grab a book really quickly right. A grin finds itself on your face as you realize the red keep has many books you have never read or even heard of and before you know it you throw on an overcoat and begin to quickly make your way over to the library with a lantern in hand.

Nobody would mind if you just took one maybe two books to keep you sated for the rest of your stay here right? That's what you think as you manage to sneak in and out of the library with two books under your coat as you quickly try to make your way back to your room. You almost reach your door before a voice behind you rings out.

“Now what could you be doing, wondering about by yourself..”

You turn and gasp, “prince aegon.”

In your shock the books fall out of your hands, you quickly bend down to pick them up missing the ‘ah’ that had escaped his lips.

“So you read?”

“I am so sorry-”

“You did not answer my question.”

You stall for a moment, not daring to lift your head from the floor. “Yes.”

He hums, “you are quite like my brother. I see no fun in it.”

At a loss for words you keep quiet and take a step back closer to your door, turning around fully before you speak, “i shall bid you goodnight-”

“You will sit in the royal box tomorrow for the tourney.” your movements freeze and you're thankful you are not facing him as your face must be full of shock. 

You manage to compose yourself not turning around, “i thought my family would be sitting in one of the lower boxes-” 

“Not your family. You. you shall sit in the royal box. With me.” 

You feel a wild course of emotions run over your body. What does he mean, just you? Is he attempting to court you? He is trying to seduce you? Does he want something from you? Or maybe he is just trying to be kind? Maybe he takes pity on you after you had embarrassed yourself the last two days? 

You must be frozen for a while because he begins to laugh. You take a deep breath, “I must decline.” because you certainly cannot sit in the royal box with the prince. What would the people think? What would your father think? You cannot even imagine having to try and explain why you would be sitting with them tomorrow.

“This is not a request. You shall join me tomorrow. I am the prince. I say it is so.”

“But my family.” “They shall sit in the box in one of the many stands below.”

“I cannot just leave my family.”

He tsks and huffs, “then so be it your family shall join us too. I'm sure heleana would be happy to be seated with floris.” 

Did he want you to sit in the box so badly he was willing to just add your family at your request just like that? No, he wanted you to sit in the box. With him.

“alright, goodnight my prince.” 

You do not even wait for a response as you book it down the hallway and slam the door to your room shut. The books you had gotten drop to the floor as you cover your hands with your face. Out of breath like you had just ran a marathon you find yourself unable to stop smiling. 

When you and your family make your way outside you pretend to be shocked when your family is escorted to the royal box. You all greet the royal family who all stand to greet you. Aegon grabs your arm and ushers you to sit down next to him. You ignore the burning stares of your family as aegon quickly makes conversation with you. 

“Isn't the view so great from here aren't you happy I told you to sit here?” it's not a question more so a statement and all you can do is nod your head.  

“Oh come on you must have something to say to me.” he pouted at you and you swiftly turned away from him, “well you did not ask.” you mumble and he smiles, shaking his head and takes a drink of wine. “I certainly did not. You would have sat here one way or another.” 

You're thankful Aegon is sitting in the front row of the box while the rest of your family is all the way in the back so at least you won't have to deal with the questioning of your family.

“Did you prepare a favor lady , y/n?” you turn back to face queen who addressed you and nod, “yes my queen.” not mentioning it is the same favor you've had for awhile as no one had ever asked for your favor. You do not take notice to aegons clenched jaw at the question and narrow eyes at the question.

The journey begins and you've never seen a tourney as big as this one. But as it is it is pretty uneventful. You cannot hold your surprise when you see aemond being introduced. “He is competing?”

Aegon next to you hums as he continues to drink, “he does not like this stuff, calls it horse shit but heleana wanted to see him compete so he entered.” 

He of course comes up and asks heleana for her favor which she gladly gives him before he rides away.

“And his opponent, ser bronn beesbury!” The man rides in full confidence. When he takes off his helmet you can't help but admit he is a very handsome man, certainly not more handsome than Aegon but he was a very attractive man. He rides over near the royal box and Aegion sits up for the first time this whole tourney.

“Lady baratheon, you are the essence of beauty.” he holds up his hand towards the box and you're shocked in a haste you look over the edge and toss out your favor for him to catch. 

“You bless me this day my lady.” 

You sit back in your seat unable to say anything. You end up glancing at Aegon expecting him to make some comment about the man as he had been doing with all the other fighters that day. He was not even looking at you. An unreliable look on his face as he tapped his fingers on the table next to him. He started dead at aemond who stared back for a moment before nodding and slamming his helm down. 

The match began and you were wowed as aemond swiftly takes ser bronn down with an extra hard hit and ser bronn hits the floor and doesn't stand back up. You gasp as he's dragged off the scene and for the first time in the last couple minutes Aegon laughs turning to you. “What a fool thinking he can go against a targaryen.” 

A part of you feels like he's not just talking about aemond.  

you didn't speak to Aegon after the tourney as the men went out on a hunt and you're grateful especially since you're more than embarrassed after your thoughts during today's tourney. 

Though it is very tough to answer your family's questions when you don't even know yourself.

Finally it was heleanas name day and the day of the ball. You spent the morning with your family, the royal family nowhere in sight seemingly preparing for tonight's ball.

When you arrive back in your room that afternoon to prepare for the ball you and your maid are shocked to see a beautiful red and black gown laid out on the bed. “Did my father prepare this?”

The maid shook her head, she's been your maid for as long as you can remember so she freely speaks around you, “the baratheons may be wealthy little ones but your father could not afford a dress like this one.” 

The dress is gorgeous as you run your hands down it you can barely believe it.

“Well come on little one let's get you dressed.”

When your family comes knocking on your door their eyes all drop to your dress, “what is this look about?”

“Where did you get that dress?” 

“Oh I made it just today.”

“Shut your mouth and tell me.”

“I had no idea it was simply on my bed when I walked into my room.”

The discussion of your dress continued until you had been standing in front of the door waiting to be announced.

“Is it not obvious the prince has given her the dress?” You and Cassandra whip your heads to look at maris who shrugs. 

“Oh come on it's in the Targaryen house colors and obviously he seems obsessed with our dear sister.” 

“Be quiet you three” you would be surprised if your father could not hear the pounding of your heart as you consider maris’ idea.

Would the prince really leave you a dress like this? What could that possibly mean? Before you have any time to think, you and the rest of your family are being announced.

As you walk into the room you fail to ignore the stares of your fellow peers as they all seem to gawk at the dress you had been wearing. Keeping your head lowered slightly you eagerly rush to your seat. 

Soon after the main family is announced and everyone stands. When you see Aegon, a pit forms in your stomach. The suit he wears is basically identical to the dress you had on, your sister maris clearly also takes notice of this as she leans towards you, “told you so.” 

As the queen gives a speech and thanks everyone you attempt to hide yourself behind your father out of embarrassment but still manage to notice the smug look on aegons face as he looks over at you. 

Soon enough dinner is served and the music starts and you forget for a moment why you had been so embarrassed in the first place laughing with your family over good food and good music. After the food in front of you had been cleared you feel eyes staring into your back, refusing to turn around you attempt to continue the conversation you had been having with your sister maris who comments on the fact that one of the lords had stepped on ever girls foot whom he's danced with which causes you to laugh. 

A throat clears behind you and you freeze, maris smiles, “good evening my prince.” Everyone greets him as well and he gives a greeting back. You turn back to look at him and your eyes widen as he holds out his hand. 

“Dance with me.”

He says it in the same tone he had told you you were to sit in the royal box with him. It is not a question. “Aren't there any other ladies you would prefer to dance with?”

“No. Now come on.”

You glance over at your father who smiles and moves his head signaling for you to dance. 

You grab aegons hand and he is more than eager to let you onto the dance floor with him. “I heard you are fond of music.” 

“I am my prince,, where did you hear that?”

“One of your sisters had mentioned it. The plain looking one.”

You gasp, “how could you say such a thing?”

He chuckles his eyes never leaving yours, “I am simply stating the truth, I apologize.”

You huff and turn your face away from him, “if anything i am the plain one my prince.”

He huffs as he grabs your chin and turns your head to face him, “you are not. Now shut your mouth.”

A silence fills between the two of you as he continues to stare at you. “Why do you think that?” A pathetic laugh escapes you, “I am not the funniest, I am not the most pretty, not the most talented. I am the quiet sister who has no idea how to speak to people or has no confidence in anything. I shall remain alone forever as a spinster while my sisters all go off and get married.” 

The song ends and the two of you stand still while everyone claps. You do not look at him while he stares at you.  

“If you are so boring then why have you captured me so. If you are not unfunny then why do I find myself laughing more in your presence than I ever have. If you are so untalented then why are you the first lady I've enjoyed dancing with? If you shall remain alone forever then why do I wish to be by your side.” 

You don't even notice that all the eyes in the room are staring at the two of you, aegon is your whole world right now.

“Marry me. And I shall open up the world to you.”

— THE GIFT

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You were born to be Feyd-Rautha's wife. You arrive to Giedi Prime to get adjusted to the new environment before your wedding. Your betrothed is trying to court you properly... but he only knows The Harkonnen ways of doing so.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — After a whole month of writing Thrown To The Wolves, I felt weird writing something with Feyd with a different Reader and a different plot. 🙈 But at the same time I was excited to explore a new scenario. 😄

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood, death

WORD COUNT — 3,700

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE GIFT

Giedi Prime was an unfriendly place – cold and colourless, nearly lifeless as well. The people you were seeing reminded you of machines more than humans. You were terrified as you realised you’d spent the rest of your life there. The Harkonnens were even worse. Rude, harsh, not very talkative. Your future husband had looked you up and down on your first day in a way that turned your blood cold.

You missed home. You missed your family. But you knew it was impossible to ever go back. You could run away – if you somehow managed to bribe the servants to help you – but it was impossible to hide from your destiny. You had been born to be Feyd-Rautha’s wife, and most importantly, to give birth to his child.

You were a daughter of an important Lord, therefore you weren’t opposed to the idea of an arranged marriage. You knew nothing else was waiting for you in this world and no one would ever let you marry a person of your choice. But why was Feyd-Rautha your betrothed? Out of all the people in the galaxy, why did you have to be promised to a Harkonnen?

Ever since you had been a little girl, your friends had been teasing you about it. Repeating the dreadful gossip about Giedi Prime and your betrothed who had become a famous and dangerous gladiator in the meantime. And now you were finding out that the gossip was not true – reality was even worse than anything you had heard and expected of this place and of this man.

You were supposed to spend three months on Giedi Prime before your wedding, away from your home and family, to adjust to the environment and the customs. Then the wedding would take its place and you’d become the na-baroness of The Harkonnens.

On your first morning you were woken up with breakfast brought to your bed by the servants.

“Why can’t I eat with my husband’s family in the dining room?” You asked them while sitting up and resting on your pillows.

The pale and bald women looked at each other significantly. Everyone looked the same here, you felt like a freak.

“Baron Harkonnen and his nephews do not eat their meals together, unless it is a special occasion, a banquet of some sort,” one of them explained. “Everyone eats their meals in their own private chambers.”

“I see,” you nodded and sighed at the sight of the food. It was as colourless as everything around. You missed the bowls of fruit and yoghurts you had been getting on your homeplanet.

After swallowing the last bit of your breakfast, you took a shower and let your new servants dress you up. The Harkonnens had requested for you to leave all your clothes and personal belongings at home. They wanted you to be as detached from your old self as possible. You were gifted a whole wardrobe of new outfits instead. All black.

You wondered if they’d ask you to shave your head, too. You dreaded that. Your hair was like an armour you could hide under. Your servants had no idea how to manage it so they left it loose. You brushed it with your fingers since there was no brush.

When you saw yourself in the mirror you thought that on your homeplanet you’d be called a feral woman. In a black, long dress, hair unkempt and dark bags under your exhausted and empty eyes that lacked any sort of emotion.

You were supposed to have classes about The Harkonnen culture. You had been studying it since you were a little girl but they did not trust your progress and they wanted to test you in a more practical sense. Your teacher was an old man with a contemptuous smirk, a close advisor of the Baron and most likely his spy.

He had been asking you questions for the past hour to which you answered perfectly well. It was becoming difficult for him to hide his surprised facial expression.

“You’ve been trained well, my Lady,” he admitted.

“This is all that has been expected of me,” you explained with a nod, your voice was hollow and emotionless as you realised how true your words had been. Your whole personality was limited to be the future Harkonnen Baroness ever since you had been a little girl. You couldn’t possibly tell what you would be like under different circumstances. You had never been given a chance to find out.

“Very well then,” he hummed to himself. “I’d like you to roam freely around the fortress and try not to get lost. Tomorrow during our class you will ask me questions about the things and places that made you curious,” he informed you and bowed down before leaving the room.

You looked around, expecting someone to fetch you but no one was coming. He had to actually mean that you were allowed to roam freely around the fortress. Carefully, you left the room and chose to turn right. You had arrived from the left side of the corridor so you were naturally more curious about the right side and exploring a brand new territory.

You were too scared to try to push any doors, though. You didn’t want to walk in on things that would possibly make someone beheading you for seeing. The occasional guards passing you by were looking at you suspiciously but they were not saying anything. After a while you stopped seeing them at all and realised you were in a dark maze of endless corridors that you had no idea how to get out of.

Trying to go back, you only ended up getting lost even further as you were going deeper and deeper into the maze. Your heart started to pound in your chest and your hands began to shake as they turned cold. The corridor was cold in general – much colder than the rest of the fortress. And it was terrifyingly empty.

You decided to stay in one place and wait. Someone had to eventually look for you, right? You hoped for it to be true. Trying to hug your own self for warmth and comfort, you rested your back on the cold, grey wall, taking deep breaths in. 

Suddenly, a loud and animalistic cry emerged from behind one of the black doors. You were startled by it and your body began to tremble even more. You wanted to get away as far as possible from that door but when you were about to turn around and run, they opened and your heart squeezed in your chest.

To your surprise, it was your betrothed leaving the mysterious room. He was wearing gladiator attire and holding a blade in his hand with blood still dripping. His eyes widened at the sight of you and you froze.

“What are you doing here?” He asked in his deep and raspy voice.

“I… I got lost, I’m sorry. I’ve been told to roam freely around the fortress and explore on my own but I got lost…” You explained as you shivered.

Feyd-Rautha approached you slowly like predators approach their prey. You took a step back and felt the wall behind you. You were trapped.

“Lost, you’re saying?” He smirked as he hovered over you. Your heart was pounding so fast in your chest that he just had to hear it. He rested one of his hands on the wall above your head and leaned in even closer. “You’ve accidentally gone underground where I train on my slaves,” he smiled almost playfully, showing off his black stained teeth.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to..” You gasped but he shushed you with a soft hiss.

“Did I say it was forbidden?” He asked and you shook your head. “Come, I’ll show you,” Feyd straightened himself and reached out his hand towards you as if he was a proper gentleman.

Everything inside you was screaming to run away and to not follow him anywhere. But you were aware that he would catch you in a second and your attempt would only most likely enrage him. And very soon you would belong to him anyway. You would be his property whether you wanted it or not.

You held his hand and he froze at the feeling of your ice cold and shivering fingers.

“You are cold,” he pointed out. “And scared.”

“I am not scared,” you lied. You had been taught that The Harkonnens hated fear and cowardice.

“And a liar,” Feyd-Rautha sneered and led you inside the mysterious room he had previously left.

It was big and dark like every other room in that fortress. There was a dead body of a servant in gladiator gear laying on the floor in the puddle of his own blood. The walls were covered in all sorts of weapons.

“This is where I train,” Feyd announced proudly. He had to think it would impress you but it only made you sick, especially the sight of the dead man on the floor. You had never seen death in such a brutal and ugly way before. But now you were sure it was not the last time.

Feyd was visibly waiting for your response as he let go of your hand and took a step back to tilt his head and watch your expressions carefully. You realised it was a test of how much you were able to handle as his wife.

You wondered what would happen if you failed all the tests. Would they just send you back home or would they get rid of you? Were they even able to do that? You didn’t want to find out.

“It is impressive, my Lord na-baron,” you admitted with a shaky nod of your head and he winced at your words which made you furrow your brows.

“Don’t address me like a servant, pet,” he clicked his tongue and you nodded, slightly uncomfortable at the way he had called you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “How should I address you then?”

“However you like,” Feyd shrugged his arms and approached you once again, raising his bloody blade slightly as you flinched. It brought a smile to his full lips. Looking deep into your eyes, he licked the blade clean. You clenched your jaw and tried to keep a poker face on but a knot formed in your stomach at the disgusting act.

You hated to admit that he was attractive for a Harkonnen. There was a magnetic energy about him that made you attracted to him like a moth was driven to a flame. Even his harsh and unpleasant voice was leaving you wanting more.

Feyd brushed your hair with the tip of his freshly cleaned blade, carefully, making sure not to cut any strand.

“I want you to always wear your hair like this,” he looked even more intensely into your eyes.

“That would be inappropriate,” you tried to explain. “It’s not considered elegant.”

“I said, I want you to always wear your hair like this,” he repeated like he couldn’t understand why you were trying to argue. He was a spoiled na-baron and completely not used to people disobeying him. So, you just nodded this time.

“Then I will,” you promised. “If I could only get a hairbrush, though. Or a comb. So they don’t tangle,” you pleaded and he squinted his eyes at you as the tip of his blade moved to under your chin. You swallowed thickly at that gesture.

“A hairbrush or a comb,” he repeated your words. “That can be arranged,” he added and you smiled nervously at him. “What are you scared of?”

“Of the blade under my chin perhaps?” You raised an eyebrow at him and he chuckled, however his hand remained still.

“Weren’t you sent here to be my wife?” Feyd’s smile dropped in an instant. He was serious again and you took a deep breath in, tugging on the folds of your dress to hide how sweaty your hands had become.

“Yes, I was,” you nodded.

“And what do you think of that?”

“I don’t think. I have been preparing for that since I was a child,” you answered.

“I want to be a good husband,” his sudden confession made your eyes widen. In one swift move he took the blade away from you and replaced it with his hand as he held your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes. “My uncle says that a wife should not be an enemy. He wants me to court you properly,” he explained.

“Is your uncle experienced in marriage?” You asked, curiously. You had been taught that Baron Harkonnen had never been married.

Feyd laughed at your question as his grip on your chin tightened. He moved his face even closer to yours, your nose nearly brushed his and it made you hold your breath.

“Can you think of a woman who would not become his enemy after being forced to marry him?” He asked you and you dared to chuckle at that.

“So, I assume, I do not have to worry about you becoming like him one day?” You bit on your lower lip, realising that he indeed did not want to hurt you.

Perhaps that whole uncomfortable and threatening situation was his idea of intimacy. You wouldn’t be surprised.

“My uncle is not my role model,” he only answered and took a step back, removing his hand from your chin. “I don’t have idols.”

“What do you worship then?” You furrowed your brows.

“Blood and honour,” he answered with all seriousness. “Allow me to give you something, my pet. A gift for my bride to be,” he proposed and you hesitantly agreed, not wanting to hurt his feelings by refusing.

You expected him to approach one of the walls and hand you some of the weapons. But, to your surprise, he kneeled down next to the dead body laying on the floor and he opened its chest with the sharp tip of his blade. You gagged quietly and covered your mouth with your hand, trying to look away as the metallic smell of blood hit your nostrils, leaving you nauseous.

The sound of his heavy footsteps made you look in his direction again, not wanting to offend him in any way. He was walking towards you proudly with a real human heart in his hands, blood dripping off of it on the floor, leaving a trace. With all your force you stopped yourself from squealing at the sight. No amount of training and studying The Harkonnen culture had prepared you for this.

Feyd-Rautha reached his hands out as he offered you his foul gift. He was staring at you intensely, expecting praise of some sort or admiration. However, you had none. You let the wet organ slip into your hands as you gagged once again at the sensation and a shiver went down your body. Your reaction caused Feyd to tilt his head and squint his eyes.

“What am I supposed to do with it?” You asked in a shaky voice.

“You don’t like it,” he pointed out after a short while of silence and you got scared of upsetting him.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just…” you started, trying to nervously explain yourself.

“You don’t like it,” he repeated, both annoyed and disappointed.

“I appreciate the gesture,” you tried to assure him. “I will keep it,” you promised.

“Why don’t you like it?” He asked once again, ignoring all your words. You sighed.

“It’s just not something I’m used to. In my homeworld, we don’t give each other human hearts,” you explained softly.

“What do you give each other?” His question was genuine and curious.

“Haven’t you studied my customs like I have been studying yours?” You asked but the answer was obvious.

“My uncle says it is not important for me to know your culture because you are here to become one of us,” Feyd explained. “The only thing I have been studying was the blade,” he added. “So, what kind of gifts do your people give?”

“Flowers,” you answered. “For example.”

“There are no flowers on Giedi Prime,” Feyd pointed out. “No seed blooms in our soil.”

“I understand,” you nodded, nervously. “I am grateful for your gift, Feyd-Rautha. I appreciate your courtship,” you assured him but your voice and hands were shaking as your face was visibly disgusted.

Someone knocked upon the doors and Feyd barked at them to come in. You turned around and saw two guards sighing out of relief at the sight of you.

“There you are, my Lady!” One of them approached you. “We’ve been searching everywhere. Let us escort you back to your chambers,” he bowed his head.

You nodded at him, relieved as well at the sight of them. You wanted nothing else than to go back to the familiar part of the fortress and to finally leave this awkward and uncomfortable situation with your betrothed.

Still holding the heart carefully in your hands, you walked out without even glancing at Feyd-Rautha. The guards took you to your chambers where the worried servants had been waiting. They gasped at the sight of your gift.

“What is it, my Lady?” One of the girls asked you.

“It’s a gift from Feyd-Rautha,” you explained as they all widened their eyes. “I have no idea what to do with it,” you admitted.

“Feyd Rautha gave it to you, my Lady?” The servant swallowed thickly and you nodded. “Do you know what it means, my Lady?”

“No,” you shook your head and handed the organ to another girl. “I desperately need to wash my hands and change my dress,” you said and disappeared into the bathroom where you spent fifteen minutes getting rid of the blood.

You took the stained dress off and threw it on the floor before walking out back to your chamber. The girls were already preparing the heart as they put it in a jar full of some odd liquid.

“It will dry in there, my Lady,” one of them explained. “Na-baron must be really enamoured with you, my Lady, or perhaps he is trying to show his best side to you.”

“Enamoured?” You snorted at her. “It’s gruesome.”

“It’s the most romantic thing a Harkonnen man can give to a woman, my Lady,” the other woman added and you gasped.

“I haven’t been taught that…” You whispered, feeling extremely stupid for the way you had treated Feyd-Rautha before. You had to anger him dearly and his rage was not something you wanted to deal with. “What is the equivalent of such a gift for a man? What can I give him in return?” You asked the servants and they looked at each other’s faces, surprised.

“There is no equivalent, my Lady,” one of them answered. “Harkonnen women do not court. Only men do.”

On the next day, when you were leaving your chambers to go to your class, you spotted the doors nearby opening and your betrothed walking out of them. Your room was in the same area as his so it was no surprise but you didn’t expect to see him at the same time in the morning. At the sight of you, he looked down and walked past you without a word, which made you feel bad for him and for the way you had treated him. But it also made you anxious because his uncle has been right about marriage. You didn’t want Feyd-Rautha to be your enemy.

Giedi Prime was far from perfect and your betrothed was an odd, psychotic creature. You couldn’t change your destiny, though, so you had to embrace it to make it bearable.

“Feyd, wait,” you rushed after him and he froze when you grabbed the sleeve of his robe. He turned around and looked at you coldly.

“I am in a hurry,” he drawled.

“So am I. But I wanted to apologise. I have been studying the Harkonnen culture for years but I have never been told of the meaning of such a gift,” you explained, feeling your cheeks getting warm. “Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to reject you.”

“The heart was of a low quality,” he admitted as his face softened slightly. “Next time I will give you the heart of a real warrior, a real enemy. Not some slave,” he added. “My uncle has already reprimanded me for that.”

You broke a smile at him. It was adorable in a way how this scary and dangerous man was following his uncle’s guide on courtship, trying to be on his best behaviour around you. It was making you feel powerful in a way.

“I would like to return the favour but my servants have informed me there is no such tradition,” you confessed. “What can I do for you to forgive me?”

Feyd-Rautha hesitated for a moment as he looked away, thinking intensely about something. Then he laid his eyes on you again and leaned in to join your lips together. You were startled at first, your heart pounded in your chest. Raised to become his wife, you had never kissed anybody before and saved yourself for him only, however it felt as if his soft lips were truly made for yours. You put your hand on his chest and opened your mouth to invite his tongue in. He devoured you, greedily wanting to explore your mouth and feast on your taste. His hands pulled you closer by your hips and you put your free hand behind his head. Seeing him for the first time in real life two days ago, you had been slightly uncomfortable at the sight of him. But now you did not feel any of that.

Even if you hadn’t been prepared to become his wife, you’d still want him. You had been born to be his.

Feyd’s hands moved up and cupped your face before breaking the kiss and moving away gently. You took a deep breath in as he stared into your eyes and caressed your loose hair.

“You’re forgiven, my pet,” he told you. “By the way, I’ve ordered a hair brush for you.”

MASTERLIST

The Nanny

When babysitting your neighbor's kid, trouble seems to find you.

Author's Note: SOA AU - No Tara, Clay, or Gemma. Trigger warning for violence! This was supposed to be up for Valentine's Day, but as you can see... that wasn't the case lmao.

Charming, California is one of those picture perfect little towns where everyone tries to be prim and proper, and act like their shit doesn't stink. And in the short time that you've lived here, you quickly realized that the law-abiding citizens hated the fact that Charming was home to a MC, the Sons of Anarchy.

It doesn't bother you to see them riding down the streets as you're out and about, but you do find it hilarious that a majority of the locals either gasp in outrage upon seeing the bikers or avoid them at all costs. You find the bikers very easy-going, but then again the club president is your neighbor.

Jax Teller had taken it upon himself to introduce himself when you were moving in, carrying boxes for you and flashing a rather charming smile as he pumped you for information about yourself. You knew what he was doing, and it was rather laughable, but you had nothing to hide and were a rather boring person, so you gave the information freely. Between the two of you, he was more interesting as a MC president whereas you stayed home and lived off the money your brothers made. Jax seemed interested in what your brothers did for a living that they were able to provide you with the life you have, but you explained they made their money because of the family business that provided private security for celebrities and individuals with a high profile. You helped them with scheduling, but they still did a majority of the work.

Finding out Jax has a son (Abel) makes your heart warm towards the biker, and then warm up to the club when his brothers visit every now and then. Juice was really just a goofball when he wasn't doing business for the club, Chibs was a secret sweetheart, Tig was a little crazy, Happy was hard to read, but it was Opie who was the most normal of the bunch.

You settle into your home quite nicely, working from your little office when your brothers need help to prevent any scheduling conflicts. Then in your downtime, you either have a book in hand or waste time on your gaming system. Jax and his brothers have been over a couple of times, drinking a beer to wind down or eating whatever leftovers you happen to have after you've already eaten.

This morning, however, you've just finished making breakfast when there's a knock at your front door. With a strip of bacon in hand, you answer the door and are surprised to see Jax and his son Abel standing there.

"What's up, Teller?"

He immediately smiles and your eyes narrow. "I hate to do this on such short notice, but my nanny canceled. Do you think you could watch Abel for the day?"

You glance down at the blonde boy, shrugging. "Is he cool staying with me?"

Jax glances down and nudges his son, but Abel merely asks, "Do you have more bacon?"

You open the door wider as you chuckle. "Sure, kid. You want some eggs and hashbrowns too?"

"Yum."

Abel walks into your house without a care in the world and you meet Jax's amused gaze. "So are there any rules I should abide by? Are you one of those dad's that limits screen time or bans sugar?"

"Nope and nope. No allergies either."

"Cool."

"Thank you. I owe you."

As Jax starts to walk down your porch steps, you say, "I'm a slut for food, Teller. Bribe me with food and I'll say yes to anything."

"Anything?" He peers over his shoulder and arches an eyebrow. You scowl at him.

"Almost anything."

Jax laughs. "Don't cook tonight then. I'll bring some cheeseburgers and fries from this diner that makes pretty good food."

"Alright."

. .

. .

When Jax returns later that night, Chibs and Happy follow after learning he was picking up food from the diner. What surprised them, however, was that while Jax parked in his driveway, he started taking the food to his neighbors house. But Chibs, nor Happy, said a word and followed their president with their own food when he didn't protest.

Jax is poised to knock on the door when he hears, "Don't you- don't you dare do it, kid. If you do it, I will personally wait until you turn seventeen to kick your little ass." The words give Jax pause because what the actual fuck! But then Abel's giggling makes him grin.

"Did she just threaten to kick Abel's ass, Jackie?" Chibs wonders, smirking.

"I think so."

"No, no, no! You blue-shelled me?! You're like two. How do you even know how to play this?!" Jax snorts and finally knocks. The trash talking suddenly ceases before… "It's open! If you're friendly, welcome! If not, I got a little ankle biter in here and I'm not afraid to sic him on you!"

Jax laughs some more and enters the house, walking to where he hears all the commotion. Walking into the living room, he can't help but smile at the sight of YN and Abel sitting side by side on the couch, attention focused on the TV where they're apparently playing Mario Kart.

"You bring the goods, Teller?"

"Burgers and fries as promised."

"You are currently my favorite Teller." Still your attention is on the TV, your trash talking his kid being kept very polite all of a sudden. Jax, Chibs, and Happy have no idea what's going on, but suddenly one of the characters is spinning out because of a banana peel and then Abel's giving a long, suffering sigh as the other character passes the finish line. "Yes!" You jump up, pointing down at Abel. "Sucks to suck, kid. Now come on. Your pop's got the goods."

When you finally look up at Jax, you momentarily freeze when you see Chibs and Happy there as well. "Oh. Hey, guys. Kitchen's this way."

Everyone follows you into the kitchen and you immediately grab drinks from the fridge. When you turn around, Jax is divvying up some food for himself, Abel, and you. You pass out the beers to the men and you have cans of Sprite for yourself and Abel. Then as you take the last remaining available seat since Jax kept Abel on his lap, you thank Jax for the food before digging in.

"So did you have fun today?" Jax asks his son.

"Yeah. I got to color and watch TV and play games."

Jax glances at you and you shrug. "I made do. I would have gone to the store to pick up some stuff for him, but I didn't know if you'd feel comfortable with me taking him anywhere."

"I appreciate that."

"So what about you? Is your nanny good or will you need another favor?"

"Uh, she actually might be out for a few more days."

You nod. "I can do it. Is it cool if I take him to the store with me tomorrow morning? I forgot how much little kids snack throughout the day."

"Yeah. I have an extra car seat you can use and I'll leave you some cash."

"Nah. Don't even worry about it. I'll be snacking with him, so I can front the bill."

But still, cash ends up thrown onto the table from both Chibs and Jax. You have a feeling it'd be useless to argue, so you say nothing.

After dinner, Jax helps you clean up before they all take their leave. He tells Abel to tell you goodbye and your heart absolutely melts when you crouch down, and Abel hugs you.

You visibly melt as you hug the little boy back and then pull back to tweak his nose. "Okay, you're officially my favorite Teller again."

Abel smiles at you as Jax laughs and then you bid everyone goodbye at the door.

Abel ends up preferring your company to that of his nanny, so Jax ends up splitting his son's time between the nanny at his house and you at your own house when you have nothing going on.

On this particular day, after a lunch of sandwich and chips, you and Abel are lounging in a kiddie pool right in the middle of your front yard. You even went as far to put up a canopy to have the pool half in the shade and half in the sun, and are soaking in a sports bra and a pair of black tights that look like shorts.

You're sitting in the shade, sipping on a juice box as Abel stands on the other side playing with water blasters. You hear the rumble of a motorcycle, unsurprised to have Jax checking in.

As the blonde walks up, you smile innocently as he laughs. "Where did the pool come from?"

"The store." You shrug. Abel takes the moment to load up his blaster with lukewarm water and shoots his dad with it. Jax doesn't bother dodging the stream. "We saw a commercial for the waterpark and since we can't go there, I brought the water to us."

Wiping water from his face and using it to slick his hair back, Jax crouches next to the pool and asks, "How much do I owe you?"

"Not a cent, Teller." You sip on your juice, grinning. "I haven't been in one of these since I was a kid. This is for me as much as it's for Abel. He just gave me the excuse of getting one and chilling in it without looking like an idiot."

"Well I don't know about that…"

He trails off and you gasp in mock outrage. As he laughs, you say, "You're lucky I respect the kutte and the fact that you have a phone in your pocket somewhere. If I didn't, I'd drag your butt in here with us."

"Next time." Jax splashes his son and then stands before Abel can shoot him point blank with water. "Am I grabbing dinner tonight?"

"Nah. Abel already made a request. He wants chicken tenders and fries."

"And what the little man wants, he gets?"

"Obviously." You roll your eyes playfully. "Plus, it's an easy meal and I enjoy it too."

"Alright." He chuckles as he starts making his way back towards his motorcycle. "Don't stay in the pool too long."

"Yes, sir." You mockingly salute him, lips twitching when you see him momentarily tense before relaxing once more. "See you later."

. .

. .

It's past Abel's bedtime by the time Jax makes it home, and already he's prepared for his kid to either be bouncing off the walls or very cranky. But as he nears YN's house, he notices that it's mostly dark. All the lights are off with the exception of the porch light and a couple of lamps he can see through the windows that peer into the living room. And the TV, of course.

Instead of knocking, he lets himself right in. It's almost too quiet, but he can hear the TV playing rather low in the living room. Heading there, he walks up to the sofa and can't help but smile at the sight that greets him. YN is laid out across the sofa with Abel on her chest, his back to her front. Both are knocked out cold.

Without second guessing himself, Jax pulls out his phone and snaps a quick photo. Chuckling to himself, he then walks around the sofa as he pockets his phone and crouches down. "Hey. YN," he gently calls out while shaking her shoulder.

It takes a few shakes before you wake, sleepily humming until Jax's voice coaxes you until you're fully awake. Your arms wrap around Abel on instinct and when you notice Jax's smirking presence, you relax. "What time is it?" You mumble.

"A little after ten."

"Really? Fuck. I guess the sun really did kick my ass if I'm this sleepy."

"Yeah." Jax chuckles and then carefully starts to gather Abel in his arms. "Sorry about showing up so late."

"Don't even worry about it." You sit up, rubbing your eyes and yawning. "You know I adore your kid." As you follow Jax to the door, you remind him about going away for a week and not being able to watch Abel, but that you'll have your phone on if Abel wants to talk.

Jax laughs. "I swear, my kid loves you more than me sometimes."

"It's only because I'm a better cook," you muse.

Jax opens his mouth to argue, but ends up shutting it and shrugging. "You're not wrong there."

As Jax then exits your home, you bid him goodnight and watch until he disappears into his home.

When you explained to Jax that your brothers made their money because of the family business that provided private security for celebrities and individuals with a high profile, you weren't lying. Nor did you lie when you also explained you helped them with scheduling for said high profile individuals.

What you chose to leave out, however, was that your family had such a great record with security because no one wanted to fuck with a family who had connections to two different cartels through your dearly departed parents.

However, before you settled into the calm life of personal security, your brothers made a name for yourselves as ruthless hitmen amongst the cartels and you… you were a little unhinged when you were caught up in the moment as one of their torturers. You worked for the cartels when they needed you to, but when you and your brothers wanted to distance yourselves, it was the cartels who helped set up your security business.

The week spent with your brothers is just to visit and catch up with those who all three of you came to see as uncles. It was most definitely not supposed to end up with you being caught off guard by a fist to the face. Someone who didn't know all what you were capable of took advantage of the fact that you were a woman who was close to big names within the cartels. They thought you to be easily taken down and used as leverage, but what they didn't count on was you hiding daggers on your persons. The fight was dirty and bloody, and by the end of it you were spitting mad.

You have the urge to carve into someone that your brothers are trying to quell for once when your phone rings. You pull out your phone mid-pacing, and then freeze upon seeing Jax's name on the screen. But it's not a normal call- it's a video call.

"Fuck."

"What?" Your elder brother asks. "Who is it?"

"It's my neighbor. Most likely his kid Abel since I babysit him most of the time." Your brothers glance at each other and you roll your eyes. "I've told you about them. Now toss me my hoodie. I can't let them see my face like this."

Before the call ends, you answer it but make sure to angle the camera away from the bruised side of your face. "Hey, Jax, give me one sec," you say. Your brother tosses you a hoodie and you quickly pull it on after setting your phone down. Then you take a seat at the kitchen table, turning off a few lights so it's a little darker and you can hide within your hood. Picking up your phone and keeping only half your face on camera, you smile. "Hey, guys, miss me?"

Jax's smile falters, but Abel immediately starts talking, telling you all about his day with his dad. He tells you he misses your food and play time, and you assure him you'll be home soon. You tell him about hanging out with your own family and even make your brothers wave at the camera when you switch it on them. Abel's little voice telling them hi makes you smile and then Jax is telling Abel to go watch some TV before bed.

Left alone with Jax on the phone, his smile vanishes. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" You refuse to meet either of your brothers' gazes as you can feel them staring at you. "Everything's fine."

"Bullshit." Your brothers snort and you huff. Very reluctantly, you pull your hood down and maneuver the camera so it catches your full face. Jax's expression hardens. "Fuck."

"Don't worry. It looks worse than it is."

"What the fuck happened?"

You shrug and quickly glance at your brothers, but they're back to doing their own thing. "Went out drinking with the family and got caught in a brawl. It's been handled."

"So I don't have to gather the boys and kick some ass?"

His words make you huff a laugh. "Nah. I'm pretty sure I put the guy in a hospital."

"You took down a dude?! Now that's hot. I wish I could have seen that."

Uncaring that they're eavesdropping, your brothers burst out laughing and you sigh. You can't help but smile and you end up rolling your eyes when Jax laughs too. "Whatever. How's Abel really doing? Is he driving his official nanny insane yet?"

"Not really. He's just moping around."

"Aww." You coo. "Well I should be home soon. I'll take him to the park or something."

Jax's teasing smile turns genuine. "You know, I've never told you this, but I appreciate everything you do for Abel. You don't have to do anything, but you still treat him like family."

"What can I say? I like kids." You shrug. "And my idiot brothers will never give me any nieces or nephews."

"Hey!" Both your brothers protest.

You grin at them before looking back at Jax on your phone. "I should get going though. We have a meeting with the uncles here in a bit and I need to get ready."

"Alright. No more fights unless I'm there to avenge you. I can't have my favorite girl looking like she's in an abusive relationship."

Snorting, you say, "No promises. Tell Abel goodnight for me and to come up with a plan for what he wants to do when I get back home."

"Will do. See you soon."

As soon as you hang up, your brothers start making teasing kissing noises. "Oh shut the fuck up."

Valentine's Day has never been a day that you really cared for. Sure it was sweet to see teenagers and kids swap gifts and/or cards, or to buy candy half off, but it didn't bother you to have a significant other on this day. But you do remember how good it felt to get a gift as a kid, so you want to make sure Abel has a good day.

With your time spent with Abel, you've come to know that he loves certain fruits and chocolate. So after heading to the store for a quick shopping trip, you return home with strawberries, bananas, and melting chocolate. Then after cleaning the strawberries and chopping up some bananas, you dip them all in the ooey-gooey chocolate before letting them harden while fixing up a white dessert box with edges that say Happy Valentine's Day.

You've just filled the box with chocolate covered fruit when your phone rings and you can't help but smile at the name. You're no stranger to how handsome Jax is, but you know better than to go there with him.

"Hey, Teller, to what do I owe the pleasure of your hot voice?" You immediately answer.

Jax's laughter meets your ear before, "While it's nice to hear you like my voice, I'm actually calling on behalf of Abel."

"Aw. What does my favorite Teller need?"

"You know I'm your favorite Teller, YN." You hum, not denying his words. "But Abel is requesting your appearance here at the shop because he has a very important question to ask you."

"A very important question?" You muse. "What does Abel have to…" You trail off, the amusement in Jax's voice suddenly making something make sense. "His question doesn't happen to coincide with what today is, does it?"

Jax chuckles. "I am not ruining the surprise."

"I swear to God, Jax, if I end up crying I'm going to kick your ass."

"I look forward to it. Now get pretty and get your ass over here. Do not break my kid's heart."

"Never. And I'm always pretty, Teller."

"...yeah. You are." Your eyes widen at his words, but you don't say anything. Jax then clears his throat. "I'll see you soon."

"Y-Yeah. I'll be there in ten."

You can feel yourself blushing as you hang up, but quickly put it out of your mind as you hurry to your room to get dressed. You pull on a black sundress that's covered in sunflowers, the flowy skirt hitting right above your knees. You step into some black wedge sandals and quickly tie your hair up in a messy ponytail. You apply the basic amount of makeup and spritz some perfume around your body.

Heading downstairs, you throw all your necessities into a purse and then grab Abel's box of chocolate covered fruit before heading out.

The drive to Teller Automotive isn't a very long one, and you're soon parking in the lot. You leave your purse in the car, but you keep your box of fruits in hand. You get several wolf whistles as you cross the parking lot, but you merely laugh off Tig and Chibs' teasing.

Before you can enter the auto garage, Jax walks out, a smirk in place. And then before you can ask him what he's smirking for, your gaze is drawn downward to Abel who walks out behind him… and oh. You fuckin' melt.

Abel's hair is slicked into a faux hawk, a red bow tie is clipped to the very crisp white button shirt that's tucked into a pair of tiny faded jeans. In his hands he's holding a teddy bear that's adorned with a miniature Sons of Anarchy kutte, and a red carnation. The adorableness of it all makes you melt and tear up at how cute he is.

"Oh my goodness. You look so handsome," you tell him.

As you crouch so you're more at his level, you make sure the skirt of your dress still covers everything. Abel blushes as he asks, "Will you be my Valentine?"

"Hell yes I will." Abel smiles as he hands over your gifts, and Jax and the others- who were apparently listening in- whoop in celebration. "And as my Valentine, it's only fair that I give a gift as well. Strawberries and bananas covered in chocolate. Your favorite," you tell him.

Abel is so ecstatic over his gift that he nearly knocks you over as he hugs you. When Chibs ask him what he's got, he's more than happy to run off and show his uncles what you've given him. Jax offers you a hand up and as soon as you're steady on your feet, you notice him looking at you in a certain way.

"What?" You huff a laugh, carefully wiping away your tears that never fully fell.

"You are amazing, you know that?"

"Hardly. Tiny Teller is just adorable as hell." You can feel yourself starting to blush so you glance down at the teddy in your hand. "Where did you find a tiny kutte anyway?"

"It's actually Abel's. The guys had it made for him when he was born and he wanted your teddy to have it."

"I'll take extra care of it then." When you glance back at Jax, you ask, "So does Abel have to stay or can I take my valentine out on a date?" You have no idea what Jax had been thinking, but it's like your words make him snap. From one second to next, he goes from staring at you in awe to gently grasping your face and pulling you into a kiss. You gasp but quickly return the sentiment. And when Jax pulls back, still cupping your face in his hands, you ask, "So me wanting to take your kid out on a date really did it for you, huh?"

Jax barks out a laugh and you smile as he leans in for another quick kiss. "Been wanting to do that for a while actually."

"And you waited until this moment to do it," you muse. "Jokes on you though. You gotta stick around and listen to your boys tease you about this while I take Abel out all on my lonesome." You kiss him for a third time and then step out of his reach to holler, "Little Teller, let's go! It's you and me, buddy. Whatever you wanna do."

As Abel approaches with a lot less fruit, he asks, "Can we eat pizza in the park?"

"We sure can. Now say goodbye to your dad so we can go stuff our faces."

Dating Jax Teller is rather thrilling. You do not care to know what goes on in the club unless it pertains to any woman trying to sleep with him, or when Jax needs someone to vent to. Then, and only then, do you let your opinion be known about what goes on with the MC.

But while you have nothing against the MC, you still prefer to spend a majority of your time with Abel. Sure you'll show up to some parties so all the other women know Jax is off limits, but you're content to do activities with little Teller wherever he wants to be for the day.

You thought it was cute Jax tried to shield you from the violence the club was capable of, but never pressed him for information when you noticed he looked stressed about something. This time, however, you wish you had pressed him for information when he asked you to stay in with Abel.

It's nighttime, and you and Abel are relaxing in front of your TV as you watch some new Pixar film about dragons and their riders. The two of you are dozing off when your front door is kicked in, which then makes you jump into action. But you're not just defending yourself, you have a little boy to think about. So before you can find a proper weapon, you're left standing in front of Abel who is now clinging to your leg as he whimpers in fear.

"Jax Teller chose a pretty one this time."

"Fuck off."

The men all chuckle in front of you. "Take her."

. .

. .

The Sons of Anarchy roll up to a subdivision that's still in development, cautiously dismounting their motorcycles and arming themselves. A new MC had established themselves in a neighboring town, looking to make a name for themselves, and they thought knocking down the Sons a peg or ten was what they ought to do to establish their foothold in the MC world for good.

The encroaching MC took to ambushing the Sons whenever and wherever, and the people of Charming were starting to become afraid of strolling their pristine streets. Even the Sheriff was looking to the Sons to end the conflict, but they could only do so much. Unfortunately, one of the fights involved a chase on motorcycles as the Sons were making a run, and the son of the enemy President took a bullet to the right side of his chest and fell. His injuries then resulted in a coma which set off to this little meeting.

As they creep through the eerily quiet streets of the deserted subdivision, Opie flanks Jax. "I don't like this, brother. Something feels off."

"I agree," Chibs says. "We should have put the club on lockdown before ridin' out."

Jax sighs. "Too late now."

Juice, Happy, and Tig jog up to homes still under construction, trying the doors or looking for any signs that someone's been there. It isn't until they get to the end of the block that they notice one home has been vandalized and they know that's where they're supposed to go.

Every Son cautiously enters the house, nose wrinkling as the state of the house. But in the middle of the living room, there's an odd clearing around a small round table. And on that table sits a folded notecard.

The Sons seem to freeze, but then Jax is marching towards the note. Snatching it up, the words written make him tense as his world starts to tilt. "Fuck. They're going after Abel."

As the note flutters to the floor, the Sons all race after their President as he flees the house.

The note read, [A son for a son.]

On the way to YN's, Jax instructs half the Sons to break off and check on the club, while also making calls to get everyone on an official lockdown. Jax, Opie, Chibs, and Happy race to his neighbor's house.

When they pull up, a few neighbors are peering out their doors looking a bit distraught. Immediately, they know something terrible has happened, and that feeling is only intensified when they spot the broken down door.

Rushing to park in YN's front yard, guns are pulled from the back waistband of their jeans. Jax takes point as he enters the house and his heart drops to his stomach. The house is an absolute mess, furniture and glass broken.

The TV is still playing some cartoon movie and when he walks further in, he curses at the sight of a body laying in a pool of blood.

Happy peers over his shoulder. "Now we know she can hold her own."

"Find them. Now."

. .

. .

Sitting in the bathtub, Abel clings to you as his face hides against the side of your neck. Your face hurts from the numerous punches you took, your lip is split, your arms have multiple lacerations, and there's blood dripping into your eyes. But your worst wound is definitely the bullet wound to the left of your abdomen, and you're grateful that Abel's weight is putting pressure on the towel you had pressed against the wound.

It's been quiet for what seems like forever, but suddenly you hear movement. Shakily raising the gun you'd taken from one of the intruders, you take aim and dare the next motherfucker who enters to be someone intending harm on you or the boy in your lap.

The door gently swings open, but no one is there. Your arm hurts from holding the gun up and then you see someone try to peer around the door jamb. You can only partially see his face, but the voice- you recognize the voice even if you rarely hear it when you're at the club.

"Baby girl?"

"...Hap?"

The stoic man steps fully in the doorway, putting his gun away as you drop yours in the tub. Abel shifts as he whimpers and you wince. "Jax! Upstairs bathroom!"

Abel realizes his uncle's voice and dad's name, so he moves to turn. Happy is quick to lift him, his eyes widening at the blood soaking his clothes. "S'fine. My blood," you tiredly tell him. "I didn't… I didn't let them touch him."

"You did real good." Happy's assurance makes you smile, but you're just so tired. As your eyes slide shut, you hear, "Hey! Don't do that. Stay awake, YN."

"Tryin'…" Pounding footsteps race up the stairs and it isn't long until Jax, Chibs, and Opie are pushing their way into the bathroom as well. Jax takes Abel right away, eyes scanning the room before they land on you. Happy and Opie move to help you out of the tub, but Chibs is quick to point out your bleeding wound. The last words you say are, "Call my brothers," before darkness consumes you."

. .

. .

Jax is pacing the hospital waiting room, blood covering his shirt and hands from where he carried Abel. Chibs had taken Abel back to the club to clean him up and fill in the others about what was going on, but now he's back and filling in the Sheriff about what they had walked in on at YN's house. Thankfully Jax and YN's neighbors liked them, and were honest about hearing gunshots before the Sons had frantically rolled up.

Opie and Happy are the only two sitting patiently, but their attention is drawn to a large group of men entering the room. Two men in particular glance around before making a beeline for Jax, but the others hang back by the door. It's evident these men mean business as they stand guard, their suits standing out among the scrubs, kuttes, and regular clothing of the others sitting in the waiting room.

When Jax notices the newcomers, his shoulders sag at the sight of YN's brothers. But his interest is piqued with the suited thugs behind the brothers, tattoos visible along their hands and neck.

The brothers quickly introduce themselves as Noah and Theo, both of their expressions grim.

"What happened?" Noah asks. He's the elder of the two, his muscled torso covered in a button down with their sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"They were after my kid," Jax immediately tells them, voice low. "She took a bullet for him and she's in surgery right now."

Both brothers' jaws clench.

"Do you know who they are?" Theo asks, tapping away on his phone.

"Yeah. It's another MC. They attacked us on a run and the son of the President took a fall off his bike. He's in a coma, so the President went after my kid in return."

"And your kid was in the care of our sister," Noah realizes.

"Yes."

Noah sighs, running a hand down his face. Then after a few more taps and texts, Theo grins. "Found them."

Jax frowns. "Found who?"

"The people responsible for putting our sister in the hospital."

Jax then tenses. "This is club business, man. We'll handle it."

Both Noah and Theo tense, but end up chuckling. Jax's jaw clenches, but he keeps his anger in check.

Noah says, "If you think it'll remain club business when YN wakes up, then that means my sister hasn't confessed the family secret."

Jax freezes. "What secret?"

"We had to get our start somewhere when our parents died," Theo tells him. "And it just so happened that each of our parents came from very powerful, very wealthy families. We worked our way to the top of the food chain and became rather notorious until we wanted out and settled into the business we currently have."

Noah starts to smirk. "Your club business just became cartel business, my friend. And our uncles are livid that their little girl was attacked."

Jax glances at his boys, but says nothing.

"We'll find them and keep them occupied," Theo says. "When YN is released, she'll be out for blood."

"And she'll get it," Noah muses. "After all, she is quite the little torturer."

When you wake up, you're unsurprised to find Jax by your bedside. You are surprised, however, to learn that he knows about your past thanks to your brothers promising bloodshed. You groan, but then remember Abel. And after assurances that Abel is fine, you relax.

You're anxious to know where you stand with Jax as he explains why you ended up in the hospital. He feels guilty for not telling you what was really going on or putting you on lockdown, along with the club, but you don't blame him for what happened. Dating the President of an MC, you were bound to be pulled into the violence sooner or later, and with your past you knew you could handle it.

When he runs out of steam, it's your turn to start apologizing for not telling him about your life with the cartels. You make sure he knows that you would have never endangered Abel, and if your past had come calling, you would have made sure that they were protected at all costs. Jax assures you he's not mad, but he did wish you would have told him given you knew about the roles some of his brothers played in the club.

But what's done is done, and Jax is more interested in what you plan on doing since your brothers have gone quiet after calling him to inform him that they've got a majority of the MC tucked away in a building that no one can hear the impending mayhem.

"They broke into my home and put a bullet in me just to get to Abel and send a message to you," you say, expression turning thunderous. "The one who shot me doesn't get to walk away. Hell, the ones who fuckin' raised a gun in Abel's direction are lucky that they'll be limping away after I'm done."

"Limping away?"

You slowly smirk at him, lowering your voice. "I'm not gonna draw out my punishment, but my brothers and my uncles' men sure as shit ain't gonna sit back. They're gonna make sure they get the message that they fucked with the wrong people."

Jax huffs a laugh and then ends up staying for as long as the nurses would let him, only leaving when YN's brothers came or he had to go pick up Abel so he'd see that YN was fine for himself.

Then after two and a half days, you're released.

You're still sore, but you've got nothing but vengeance on your mind. When your brothers send you the address of where they're holding several individuals for you to interrogate, you get dressed and head for Teller Automotive.

Some of the guys are surprised to see you up and about, but you wave off their concern as you continue towards the club portion of the shop.

The usual sweetbutts are milling about, cleaning up and most likely getting ready for a party since it is a Friday. You spot Jax and Juice at the bar as Juice taps away on a laptop.

"Boys," you greet as you walk up behind them. "Whatcha workin' on?"

Jax turns in his seat, eyes subtly widening as he stands. "You're out! Why didn't you call me?" He's quick to carefully take you in his arms, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Because if I'd have called you, you'd have taken me home and coddled me."

"Well yeah. You were shot."

"I got shit to take care of, Teller, and I'm not wasting another day."

"Then what are you doing here?"

You shrug. "I just thought that you'd want to see the MC face their consequences."

"Now? You're going to do that now?" He asks, his gaze darting down to your covered abdomen.

"Yep. "My brothers procured a place just on the outskirts of Charming where we won't be interrupted. You in?"

"Well, yeah. Obviously."

"Good. Then gather whoever's in and follow me."

As you sit in your car, you watch Jax as speaks with several of brothers to see who he's going to leave in charge. And after everything is settled, only five follow Jax to their motorcycles- Opie, Happy, Juice, Tig, and Chibs.

You start your car and start to drive, pausing by the gate until Jax and the others start to roll out. You take off, keeping your speed down as you drive through the town. But the moment you get to the road leading out of Charming, you step on the gas and race towards the location your brothers sent to you.

You drive along an empty stretch of road until you turn down a dirt road which is surrounded by empty crop fields that have seen better days. The road leads up to a dilapidated farmhouse, a very rusted horse corral, and behind all that is a barn where several vehicles have parked.

You park and get out, waiting for Jax to find the perfect spot to park their motorcycles. Once they do, you wait until they gather around.

"I know this started off as club business, but now it's cartel business. I can't have you questioning me in there."

"This is your playground," Jax says. "We're just here for a show."

You nod and then turn towards the barn doors, pushing them open with the help of Chibs and Tig when they get stuck. Inside, several men are hanging about on turned over crates or bales of hay, some even sitting at a small wooden table playing cards. Music plays softly in the background, but it's cut off the moment your presence is noticed.

Immediately, every man and woman scramble to their feet as you approach.

In the middle of the barn, there's a line of eight men with burlap sacks over their heads sitting in chairs with their wrists tied down to the armrests and ankles tied to the legs. Walking down the line of men, you snatch the sacks from their heads.

"Wakey, wakey, motherfuckers." Each man is clearly exhausted, agitated, and pissed off.

You save the MC President for last, smirking as he sneers at you. "Stupid bitch." He seethes. "Let us go. Right now."

"Bitch," you muse. "If you're going to insult me, at least call me a cunt. Or whore. Those words have much more of an impact."

"Cunt."

Your fist whips out, striking him across the face so hard that his head jerks to the side. He turns to glare back up at you, spitting blood that lands on your pant leg. "Now, now. If you're going to insult me again, at least be creative about it. Your lack of creativity is sorely disappointing." He roars at you, trying to free his wrists and feet, but you merely laugh and continue to pace in front of his men. "Now I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here and it's quite simple, really." You stop pacing, expression hardening. "You fucked with the wrong woman."

Then like a switch has been flipped, you go back to smiling and pacing, gesturing wildly as you talk. "Normally I wouldn't touch MC business with a ten foot pole, but you fuckers messed up. You broke into my home and went after a child under my care- a child that I hold very near and dear to my heart. So, now your piss poor attempt at taking over territory that doesn't belong to you has now come under cartel jurisdiction, and I will make sure that any stupid motherfuckers who dares to come after the Sons of Anarchy will pay a price."

"Fuck that. We didn't cross any cartel!"

"Oh honey," you mockingly coo as you come to a stop in front of the one who spoke. "I am part of the cartel." Turning around, you walk towards a long table and lift the cloth laying atop of it. Beneath the cloth, there's a variety of weapons. You tuck a glock into the back waistband of your jeans and then grasp a dagger in your dominant hand. Then turning to walk back towards the bound men, you smirk. "Now what I want are the assholes who attacked me and dared to point a gun at a child. You give me those men and the rest of you can walk out of here."

Silence.

Dead fuckin' silence.

"Nothing?" You chuckle. "Come on, guys. Give 'em up. I swear it's not worth protecting them. I mean, I can probably figure it out. Eyes are windows to the soul and all that rot. You might have been wearing masks, but I still remember those cowardly glints very well."

"Fuck you! I ain't no coward."

"Bingo!" You shout, pointing the tip of your blade at the culprit. Walking up to the guy, you can't help but laugh as he realizes his mistake and clamps his mouth shut. "One down, one more to go."

"I ain't telling you shit."

"No?" Switching the dagger to your other hand, you pull the glock free from behind your back. You step close to the man, taking aim at his crotch. "Are you sure about that?"

He cruelly smirks. "You're all talk and no-"

BANG!

The guy immediately starts screaming, his buddies struggling in their chairs, and you laugh. When you glance around the room, you see those you consider family chuckling and the Sons cringing in sympathy as they cover their crotches. You walk around so you're standing behind the screaming fool, swapping the dagger and gun in your hands so the dagger is back in your dominant hand. "Going once… going twice…" He continues to scream, and you sigh when no one else speaks up.

And then before anyone can comprehend what you've done, you've dragged the blade across the guy's neck.

As he gurgles on his blood and his friends shout obscenities at you, you walk around so you're standing before them once again.

"That's three of my men you've killed already," the President says. "I think fair's fair."

"I want the last one," you say. "One last guy and you're good to go."

No one says anything, but the President's expression hardens. There's a cold glint in his eye that you're very familiar with, and you know that should he walk out of these barn doors, he'll do anything and everything for revenge. "Samuel. I sent Samuel."

The Samuel in question squawks and you smile beautifully at him over the shoulder before staring at the President once more. "Harsh. Selling out your own guy like that." You saunter up to him, sighing. "But he's the thing; I hate snitches."

Then before the President can blink, you take aim and pull the trigger. The bullet hits him right between the eyebrows.

The struggling, bound men all seem to cease movement and you turn towards them. "Now that that's out of the way…" You walk back towards Samuel, scoffing at his whimpering. "You might get to live today, Sammy, but not without something to remember why messing with the Sons a big no-no."

"And w-what's that?"

You slowly smile. "Open your fist, Samuel. Lay your hand flat against the armrest."

His eyes widen as he whimpers, but he hesitantly does as you've said. Then when his hand is nice and flat, you drive your blade through the back of his hand, pinning it to the arm rest.

As he screams, you sneer at him and then start to make your way towards the Sons. On your way, you hand off your gun before coming to a stop in front of Jax and pasting on a smile as you glance at each Sons. "Who's hungry?"

"Marry me," Happy grumbles.

You laugh at him, winking, and then glance back at Jax. "You're a little psycho," he says.

"Only when the occasion calls for it. But seriously, can we go get food?"

Jax laughs as he sidles up to your side, sliding an arm along the back of your shoulders. "Do burgers sound good?"

"Burgers sound marvelous. I also want a vanilla milkshake."

"Good. We'll go grab some and surprise Abel. He's been itching to go to your house again."

"Ugh. Your kid is so adorable. But maybe let me settle in before you grab him. My abdomen is on fire and if we tell him I'm sick, maybe he won't be so hyperactive."

"Let me see."

Begrudgingly, you lift the hem of your shirt and glance down. Sure enough, you've bled through your bandages. "New plan; No Abel."

"What? But-"

"Nope." Jax squeezes you to his side as you sigh. "You're gonna go home, Chibs will follow to patch you up, and I'll go pick up some food. Abel can go one more day without seeing you."

"Boo."

The Sons chuckle.

"What about us?" Juice asks, gesturing between himself, Tig, and Happy.

"I don't care, Juice. Do whatever you want."

As they head towards their motorcycles, Jax walks you to your car.

"So, are you really okay with this?" You ask. "Okay with me and all that I'm capable of?"

"Yeah." Jax nods. "More than okay, actually. It's good to know that should shit find its way to your doorstep again, you'll handle it."

"Damn right I will." You swing around so you're standing in front of Jax, arms wrapping around his waist as his go around your shoulders. "I will protect Abel with my life again and again. Never doubt that."

"Just Abel?" His eyebrow arches.

"You're a close second," you muse. Leaning up on the tips of your toes, you peck his lips. "Now seriously. Food, Teller. I need food."

"Yeah, yeah." He kisses you again. "Go home and get settled. I'll be there soon."

The Nanny

When babysitting your neighbor's kid, trouble seems to find you.

Author's Note: SOA AU - No Tara, Clay, or Gemma. Trigger warning for violence! This was supposed to be up for Valentine's Day, but as you can see... that wasn't the case lmao.

Charming, California is one of those picture perfect little towns where everyone tries to be prim and proper, and act like their shit doesn't stink. And in the short time that you've lived here, you quickly realized that the law-abiding citizens hated the fact that Charming was home to a MC, the Sons of Anarchy.

It doesn't bother you to see them riding down the streets as you're out and about, but you do find it hilarious that a majority of the locals either gasp in outrage upon seeing the bikers or avoid them at all costs. You find the bikers very easy-going, but then again the club president is your neighbor.

Jax Teller had taken it upon himself to introduce himself when you were moving in, carrying boxes for you and flashing a rather charming smile as he pumped you for information about yourself. You knew what he was doing, and it was rather laughable, but you had nothing to hide and were a rather boring person, so you gave the information freely. Between the two of you, he was more interesting as a MC president whereas you stayed home and lived off the money your brothers made. Jax seemed interested in what your brothers did for a living that they were able to provide you with the life you have, but you explained they made their money because of the family business that provided private security for celebrities and individuals with a high profile. You helped them with scheduling, but they still did a majority of the work.

Finding out Jax has a son (Abel) makes your heart warm towards the biker, and then warm up to the club when his brothers visit every now and then. Juice was really just a goofball when he wasn't doing business for the club, Chibs was a secret sweetheart, Tig was a little crazy, Happy was hard to read, but it was Opie who was the most normal of the bunch.

You settle into your home quite nicely, working from your little office when your brothers need help to prevent any scheduling conflicts. Then in your downtime, you either have a book in hand or waste time on your gaming system. Jax and his brothers have been over a couple of times, drinking a beer to wind down or eating whatever leftovers you happen to have after you've already eaten.

This morning, however, you've just finished making breakfast when there's a knock at your front door. With a strip of bacon in hand, you answer the door and are surprised to see Jax and his son Abel standing there.

"What's up, Teller?"

He immediately smiles and your eyes narrow. "I hate to do this on such short notice, but my nanny canceled. Do you think you could watch Abel for the day?"

You glance down at the blonde boy, shrugging. "Is he cool staying with me?"

Jax glances down and nudges his son, but Abel merely asks, "Do you have more bacon?"

You open the door wider as you chuckle. "Sure, kid. You want some eggs and hashbrowns too?"

"Yum."

Abel walks into your house without a care in the world and you meet Jax's amused gaze. "So are there any rules I should abide by? Are you one of those dad's that limits screen time or bans sugar?"

"Nope and nope. No allergies either."

"Cool."

"Thank you. I owe you."

As Jax starts to walk down your porch steps, you say, "I'm a slut for food, Teller. Bribe me with food and I'll say yes to anything."

"Anything?" He peers over his shoulder and arches an eyebrow. You scowl at him.

"Almost anything."

Jax laughs. "Don't cook tonight then. I'll bring some cheeseburgers and fries from this diner that makes pretty good food."

"Alright."

. .

. .

When Jax returns later that night, Chibs and Happy follow after learning he was picking up food from the diner. What surprised them, however, was that while Jax parked in his driveway, he started taking the food to his neighbors house. But Chibs, nor Happy, said a word and followed their president with their own food when he didn't protest.

Jax is poised to knock on the door when he hears, "Don't you- don't you dare do it, kid. If you do it, I will personally wait until you turn seventeen to kick your little ass." The words give Jax pause because what the actual fuck! But then Abel's giggling makes him grin.

"Did she just threaten to kick Abel's ass, Jackie?" Chibs wonders, smirking.

"I think so."

"No, no, no! You blue-shelled me?! You're like two. How do you even know how to play this?!" Jax snorts and finally knocks. The trash talking suddenly ceases before… "It's open! If you're friendly, welcome! If not, I got a little ankle biter in here and I'm not afraid to sic him on you!"

Jax laughs some more and enters the house, walking to where he hears all the commotion. Walking into the living room, he can't help but smile at the sight of YN and Abel sitting side by side on the couch, attention focused on the TV where they're apparently playing Mario Kart.

"You bring the goods, Teller?"

"Burgers and fries as promised."

"You are currently my favorite Teller." Still your attention is on the TV, your trash talking his kid being kept very polite all of a sudden. Jax, Chibs, and Happy have no idea what's going on, but suddenly one of the characters is spinning out because of a banana peel and then Abel's giving a long, suffering sigh as the other character passes the finish line. "Yes!" You jump up, pointing down at Abel. "Sucks to suck, kid. Now come on. Your pop's got the goods."

When you finally look up at Jax, you momentarily freeze when you see Chibs and Happy there as well. "Oh. Hey, guys. Kitchen's this way."

Everyone follows you into the kitchen and you immediately grab drinks from the fridge. When you turn around, Jax is divvying up some food for himself, Abel, and you. You pass out the beers to the men and you have cans of Sprite for yourself and Abel. Then as you take the last remaining available seat since Jax kept Abel on his lap, you thank Jax for the food before digging in.

"So did you have fun today?" Jax asks his son.

"Yeah. I got to color and watch TV and play games."

Jax glances at you and you shrug. "I made do. I would have gone to the store to pick up some stuff for him, but I didn't know if you'd feel comfortable with me taking him anywhere."

"I appreciate that."

"So what about you? Is your nanny good or will you need another favor?"

"Uh, she actually might be out for a few more days."

You nod. "I can do it. Is it cool if I take him to the store with me tomorrow morning? I forgot how much little kids snack throughout the day."

"Yeah. I have an extra car seat you can use and I'll leave you some cash."

"Nah. Don't even worry about it. I'll be snacking with him, so I can front the bill."

But still, cash ends up thrown onto the table from both Chibs and Jax. You have a feeling it'd be useless to argue, so you say nothing.

After dinner, Jax helps you clean up before they all take their leave. He tells Abel to tell you goodbye and your heart absolutely melts when you crouch down, and Abel hugs you.

You visibly melt as you hug the little boy back and then pull back to tweak his nose. "Okay, you're officially my favorite Teller again."

Abel smiles at you as Jax laughs and then you bid everyone goodbye at the door.

Abel ends up preferring your company to that of his nanny, so Jax ends up splitting his son's time between the nanny at his house and you at your own house when you have nothing going on.

On this particular day, after a lunch of sandwich and chips, you and Abel are lounging in a kiddie pool right in the middle of your front yard. You even went as far to put up a canopy to have the pool half in the shade and half in the sun, and are soaking in a sports bra and a pair of black tights that look like shorts.

You're sitting in the shade, sipping on a juice box as Abel stands on the other side playing with water blasters. You hear the rumble of a motorcycle, unsurprised to have Jax checking in.

As the blonde walks up, you smile innocently as he laughs. "Where did the pool come from?"

"The store." You shrug. Abel takes the moment to load up his blaster with lukewarm water and shoots his dad with it. Jax doesn't bother dodging the stream. "We saw a commercial for the waterpark and since we can't go there, I brought the water to us."

Wiping water from his face and using it to slick his hair back, Jax crouches next to the pool and asks, "How much do I owe you?"

"Not a cent, Teller." You sip on your juice, grinning. "I haven't been in one of these since I was a kid. This is for me as much as it's for Abel. He just gave me the excuse of getting one and chilling in it without looking like an idiot."

"Well I don't know about that…"

He trails off and you gasp in mock outrage. As he laughs, you say, "You're lucky I respect the kutte and the fact that you have a phone in your pocket somewhere. If I didn't, I'd drag your butt in here with us."

"Next time." Jax splashes his son and then stands before Abel can shoot him point blank with water. "Am I grabbing dinner tonight?"

"Nah. Abel already made a request. He wants chicken tenders and fries."

"And what the little man wants, he gets?"

"Obviously." You roll your eyes playfully. "Plus, it's an easy meal and I enjoy it too."

"Alright." He chuckles as he starts making his way back towards his motorcycle. "Don't stay in the pool too long."

"Yes, sir." You mockingly salute him, lips twitching when you see him momentarily tense before relaxing once more. "See you later."

. .

. .

It's past Abel's bedtime by the time Jax makes it home, and already he's prepared for his kid to either be bouncing off the walls or very cranky. But as he nears YN's house, he notices that it's mostly dark. All the lights are off with the exception of the porch light and a couple of lamps he can see through the windows that peer into the living room. And the TV, of course.

Instead of knocking, he lets himself right in. It's almost too quiet, but he can hear the TV playing rather low in the living room. Heading there, he walks up to the sofa and can't help but smile at the sight that greets him. YN is laid out across the sofa with Abel on her chest, his back to her front. Both are knocked out cold.

Without second guessing himself, Jax pulls out his phone and snaps a quick photo. Chuckling to himself, he then walks around the sofa as he pockets his phone and crouches down. "Hey. YN," he gently calls out while shaking her shoulder.

It takes a few shakes before you wake, sleepily humming until Jax's voice coaxes you until you're fully awake. Your arms wrap around Abel on instinct and when you notice Jax's smirking presence, you relax. "What time is it?" You mumble.

"A little after ten."

"Really? Fuck. I guess the sun really did kick my ass if I'm this sleepy."

"Yeah." Jax chuckles and then carefully starts to gather Abel in his arms. "Sorry about showing up so late."

"Don't even worry about it." You sit up, rubbing your eyes and yawning. "You know I adore your kid." As you follow Jax to the door, you remind him about going away for a week and not being able to watch Abel, but that you'll have your phone on if Abel wants to talk.

Jax laughs. "I swear, my kid loves you more than me sometimes."

"It's only because I'm a better cook," you muse.

Jax opens his mouth to argue, but ends up shutting it and shrugging. "You're not wrong there."

As Jax then exits your home, you bid him goodnight and watch until he disappears into his home.

When you explained to Jax that your brothers made their money because of the family business that provided private security for celebrities and individuals with a high profile, you weren't lying. Nor did you lie when you also explained you helped them with scheduling for said high profile individuals.

What you chose to leave out, however, was that your family had such a great record with security because no one wanted to fuck with a family who had connections to two different cartels through your dearly departed parents.

However, before you settled into the calm life of personal security, your brothers made a name for yourselves as ruthless hitmen amongst the cartels and you… you were a little unhinged when you were caught up in the moment as one of their torturers. You worked for the cartels when they needed you to, but when you and your brothers wanted to distance yourselves, it was the cartels who helped set up your security business.

The week spent with your brothers is just to visit and catch up with those who all three of you came to see as uncles. It was most definitely not supposed to end up with you being caught off guard by a fist to the face. Someone who didn't know all what you were capable of took advantage of the fact that you were a woman who was close to big names within the cartels. They thought you to be easily taken down and used as leverage, but what they didn't count on was you hiding daggers on your persons. The fight was dirty and bloody, and by the end of it you were spitting mad.

You have the urge to carve into someone that your brothers are trying to quell for once when your phone rings. You pull out your phone mid-pacing, and then freeze upon seeing Jax's name on the screen. But it's not a normal call- it's a video call.

"Fuck."

"What?" Your elder brother asks. "Who is it?"

"It's my neighbor. Most likely his kid Abel since I babysit him most of the time." Your brothers glance at each other and you roll your eyes. "I've told you about them. Now toss me my hoodie. I can't let them see my face like this."

Before the call ends, you answer it but make sure to angle the camera away from the bruised side of your face. "Hey, Jax, give me one sec," you say. Your brother tosses you a hoodie and you quickly pull it on after setting your phone down. Then you take a seat at the kitchen table, turning off a few lights so it's a little darker and you can hide within your hood. Picking up your phone and keeping only half your face on camera, you smile. "Hey, guys, miss me?"

Jax's smile falters, but Abel immediately starts talking, telling you all about his day with his dad. He tells you he misses your food and play time, and you assure him you'll be home soon. You tell him about hanging out with your own family and even make your brothers wave at the camera when you switch it on them. Abel's little voice telling them hi makes you smile and then Jax is telling Abel to go watch some TV before bed.

Left alone with Jax on the phone, his smile vanishes. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" You refuse to meet either of your brothers' gazes as you can feel them staring at you. "Everything's fine."

"Bullshit." Your brothers snort and you huff. Very reluctantly, you pull your hood down and maneuver the camera so it catches your full face. Jax's expression hardens. "Fuck."

"Don't worry. It looks worse than it is."

"What the fuck happened?"

You shrug and quickly glance at your brothers, but they're back to doing their own thing. "Went out drinking with the family and got caught in a brawl. It's been handled."

"So I don't have to gather the boys and kick some ass?"

His words make you huff a laugh. "Nah. I'm pretty sure I put the guy in a hospital."

"You took down a dude?! Now that's hot. I wish I could have seen that."

Uncaring that they're eavesdropping, your brothers burst out laughing and you sigh. You can't help but smile and you end up rolling your eyes when Jax laughs too. "Whatever. How's Abel really doing? Is he driving his official nanny insane yet?"

"Not really. He's just moping around."

"Aww." You coo. "Well I should be home soon. I'll take him to the park or something."

Jax's teasing smile turns genuine. "You know, I've never told you this, but I appreciate everything you do for Abel. You don't have to do anything, but you still treat him like family."

"What can I say? I like kids." You shrug. "And my idiot brothers will never give me any nieces or nephews."

"Hey!" Both your brothers protest.

You grin at them before looking back at Jax on your phone. "I should get going though. We have a meeting with the uncles here in a bit and I need to get ready."

"Alright. No more fights unless I'm there to avenge you. I can't have my favorite girl looking like she's in an abusive relationship."

Snorting, you say, "No promises. Tell Abel goodnight for me and to come up with a plan for what he wants to do when I get back home."

"Will do. See you soon."

As soon as you hang up, your brothers start making teasing kissing noises. "Oh shut the fuck up."

Valentine's Day has never been a day that you really cared for. Sure it was sweet to see teenagers and kids swap gifts and/or cards, or to buy candy half off, but it didn't bother you to have a significant other on this day. But you do remember how good it felt to get a gift as a kid, so you want to make sure Abel has a good day.

With your time spent with Abel, you've come to know that he loves certain fruits and chocolate. So after heading to the store for a quick shopping trip, you return home with strawberries, bananas, and melting chocolate. Then after cleaning the strawberries and chopping up some bananas, you dip them all in the ooey-gooey chocolate before letting them harden while fixing up a white dessert box with edges that say Happy Valentine's Day.

You've just filled the box with chocolate covered fruit when your phone rings and you can't help but smile at the name. You're no stranger to how handsome Jax is, but you know better than to go there with him.

"Hey, Teller, to what do I owe the pleasure of your hot voice?" You immediately answer.

Jax's laughter meets your ear before, "While it's nice to hear you like my voice, I'm actually calling on behalf of Abel."

"Aw. What does my favorite Teller need?"

"You know I'm your favorite Teller, YN." You hum, not denying his words. "But Abel is requesting your appearance here at the shop because he has a very important question to ask you."

"A very important question?" You muse. "What does Abel have to…" You trail off, the amusement in Jax's voice suddenly making something make sense. "His question doesn't happen to coincide with what today is, does it?"

Jax chuckles. "I am not ruining the surprise."

"I swear to God, Jax, if I end up crying I'm going to kick your ass."

"I look forward to it. Now get pretty and get your ass over here. Do not break my kid's heart."

"Never. And I'm always pretty, Teller."

"...yeah. You are." Your eyes widen at his words, but you don't say anything. Jax then clears his throat. "I'll see you soon."

"Y-Yeah. I'll be there in ten."

You can feel yourself blushing as you hang up, but quickly put it out of your mind as you hurry to your room to get dressed. You pull on a black sundress that's covered in sunflowers, the flowy skirt hitting right above your knees. You step into some black wedge sandals and quickly tie your hair up in a messy ponytail. You apply the basic amount of makeup and spritz some perfume around your body.

Heading downstairs, you throw all your necessities into a purse and then grab Abel's box of chocolate covered fruit before heading out.

The drive to Teller Automotive isn't a very long one, and you're soon parking in the lot. You leave your purse in the car, but you keep your box of fruits in hand. You get several wolf whistles as you cross the parking lot, but you merely laugh off Tig and Chibs' teasing.

Before you can enter the auto garage, Jax walks out, a smirk in place. And then before you can ask him what he's smirking for, your gaze is drawn downward to Abel who walks out behind him… and oh. You fuckin' melt.

Abel's hair is slicked into a faux hawk, a red bow tie is clipped to the very crisp white button shirt that's tucked into a pair of tiny faded jeans. In his hands he's holding a teddy bear that's adorned with a miniature Sons of Anarchy kutte, and a red carnation. The adorableness of it all makes you melt and tear up at how cute he is.

"Oh my goodness. You look so handsome," you tell him.

As you crouch so you're more at his level, you make sure the skirt of your dress still covers everything. Abel blushes as he asks, "Will you be my Valentine?"

"Hell yes I will." Abel smiles as he hands over your gifts, and Jax and the others- who were apparently listening in- whoop in celebration. "And as my Valentine, it's only fair that I give a gift as well. Strawberries and bananas covered in chocolate. Your favorite," you tell him.

Abel is so ecstatic over his gift that he nearly knocks you over as he hugs you. When Chibs ask him what he's got, he's more than happy to run off and show his uncles what you've given him. Jax offers you a hand up and as soon as you're steady on your feet, you notice him looking at you in a certain way.

"What?" You huff a laugh, carefully wiping away your tears that never fully fell.

"You are amazing, you know that?"

"Hardly. Tiny Teller is just adorable as hell." You can feel yourself starting to blush so you glance down at the teddy in your hand. "Where did you find a tiny kutte anyway?"

"It's actually Abel's. The guys had it made for him when he was born and he wanted your teddy to have it."

"I'll take extra care of it then." When you glance back at Jax, you ask, "So does Abel have to stay or can I take my valentine out on a date?" You have no idea what Jax had been thinking, but it's like your words make him snap. From one second to next, he goes from staring at you in awe to gently grasping your face and pulling you into a kiss. You gasp but quickly return the sentiment. And when Jax pulls back, still cupping your face in his hands, you ask, "So me wanting to take your kid out on a date really did it for you, huh?"

Jax barks out a laugh and you smile as he leans in for another quick kiss. "Been wanting to do that for a while actually."

"And you waited until this moment to do it," you muse. "Jokes on you though. You gotta stick around and listen to your boys tease you about this while I take Abel out all on my lonesome." You kiss him for a third time and then step out of his reach to holler, "Little Teller, let's go! It's you and me, buddy. Whatever you wanna do."

As Abel approaches with a lot less fruit, he asks, "Can we eat pizza in the park?"

"We sure can. Now say goodbye to your dad so we can go stuff our faces."

Dating Jax Teller is rather thrilling. You do not care to know what goes on in the club unless it pertains to any woman trying to sleep with him, or when Jax needs someone to vent to. Then, and only then, do you let your opinion be known about what goes on with the MC.

But while you have nothing against the MC, you still prefer to spend a majority of your time with Abel. Sure you'll show up to some parties so all the other women know Jax is off limits, but you're content to do activities with little Teller wherever he wants to be for the day.

You thought it was cute Jax tried to shield you from the violence the club was capable of, but never pressed him for information when you noticed he looked stressed about something. This time, however, you wish you had pressed him for information when he asked you to stay in with Abel.

It's nighttime, and you and Abel are relaxing in front of your TV as you watch some new Pixar film about dragons and their riders. The two of you are dozing off when your front door is kicked in, which then makes you jump into action. But you're not just defending yourself, you have a little boy to think about. So before you can find a proper weapon, you're left standing in front of Abel who is now clinging to your leg as he whimpers in fear.

"Jax Teller chose a pretty one this time."

"Fuck off."

The men all chuckle in front of you. "Take her."

. .

. .

The Sons of Anarchy roll up to a subdivision that's still in development, cautiously dismounting their motorcycles and arming themselves. A new MC had established themselves in a neighboring town, looking to make a name for themselves, and they thought knocking down the Sons a peg or ten was what they ought to do to establish their foothold in the MC world for good.

The encroaching MC took to ambushing the Sons whenever and wherever, and the people of Charming were starting to become afraid of strolling their pristine streets. Even the Sheriff was looking to the Sons to end the conflict, but they could only do so much. Unfortunately, one of the fights involved a chase on motorcycles as the Sons were making a run, and the son of the enemy President took a bullet to the right side of his chest and fell. His injuries then resulted in a coma which set off to this little meeting.

As they creep through the eerily quiet streets of the deserted subdivision, Opie flanks Jax. "I don't like this, brother. Something feels off."

"I agree," Chibs says. "We should have put the club on lockdown before ridin' out."

Jax sighs. "Too late now."

Juice, Happy, and Tig jog up to homes still under construction, trying the doors or looking for any signs that someone's been there. It isn't until they get to the end of the block that they notice one home has been vandalized and they know that's where they're supposed to go.

Every Son cautiously enters the house, nose wrinkling as the state of the house. But in the middle of the living room, there's an odd clearing around a small round table. And on that table sits a folded notecard.

The Sons seem to freeze, but then Jax is marching towards the note. Snatching it up, the words written make him tense as his world starts to tilt. "Fuck. They're going after Abel."

As the note flutters to the floor, the Sons all race after their President as he flees the house.

The note read, [A son for a son.]

On the way to YN's, Jax instructs half the Sons to break off and check on the club, while also making calls to get everyone on an official lockdown. Jax, Opie, Chibs, and Happy race to his neighbor's house.

When they pull up, a few neighbors are peering out their doors looking a bit distraught. Immediately, they know something terrible has happened, and that feeling is only intensified when they spot the broken down door.

Rushing to park in YN's front yard, guns are pulled from the back waistband of their jeans. Jax takes point as he enters the house and his heart drops to his stomach. The house is an absolute mess, furniture and glass broken.

The TV is still playing some cartoon movie and when he walks further in, he curses at the sight of a body laying in a pool of blood.

Happy peers over his shoulder. "Now we know she can hold her own."

"Find them. Now."

. .

. .

Sitting in the bathtub, Abel clings to you as his face hides against the side of your neck. Your face hurts from the numerous punches you took, your lip is split, your arms have multiple lacerations, and there's blood dripping into your eyes. But your worst wound is definitely the bullet wound to the left of your abdomen, and you're grateful that Abel's weight is putting pressure on the towel you had pressed against the wound.

It's been quiet for what seems like forever, but suddenly you hear movement. Shakily raising the gun you'd taken from one of the intruders, you take aim and dare the next motherfucker who enters to be someone intending harm on you or the boy in your lap.

The door gently swings open, but no one is there. Your arm hurts from holding the gun up and then you see someone try to peer around the door jamb. You can only partially see his face, but the voice- you recognize the voice even if you rarely hear it when you're at the club.

"Baby girl?"

"...Hap?"

The stoic man steps fully in the doorway, putting his gun away as you drop yours in the tub. Abel shifts as he whimpers and you wince. "Jax! Upstairs bathroom!"

Abel realizes his uncle's voice and dad's name, so he moves to turn. Happy is quick to lift him, his eyes widening at the blood soaking his clothes. "S'fine. My blood," you tiredly tell him. "I didn't… I didn't let them touch him."

"You did real good." Happy's assurance makes you smile, but you're just so tired. As your eyes slide shut, you hear, "Hey! Don't do that. Stay awake, YN."

"Tryin'…" Pounding footsteps race up the stairs and it isn't long until Jax, Chibs, and Opie are pushing their way into the bathroom as well. Jax takes Abel right away, eyes scanning the room before they land on you. Happy and Opie move to help you out of the tub, but Chibs is quick to point out your bleeding wound. The last words you say are, "Call my brothers," before darkness consumes you."

. .

. .

Jax is pacing the hospital waiting room, blood covering his shirt and hands from where he carried Abel. Chibs had taken Abel back to the club to clean him up and fill in the others about what was going on, but now he's back and filling in the Sheriff about what they had walked in on at YN's house. Thankfully Jax and YN's neighbors liked them, and were honest about hearing gunshots before the Sons had frantically rolled up.

Opie and Happy are the only two sitting patiently, but their attention is drawn to a large group of men entering the room. Two men in particular glance around before making a beeline for Jax, but the others hang back by the door. It's evident these men mean business as they stand guard, their suits standing out among the scrubs, kuttes, and regular clothing of the others sitting in the waiting room.

When Jax notices the newcomers, his shoulders sag at the sight of YN's brothers. But his interest is piqued with the suited thugs behind the brothers, tattoos visible along their hands and neck.

The brothers quickly introduce themselves as Noah and Theo, both of their expressions grim.

"What happened?" Noah asks. He's the elder of the two, his muscled torso covered in a button down with their sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"They were after my kid," Jax immediately tells them, voice low. "She took a bullet for him and she's in surgery right now."

Both brothers' jaws clench.

"Do you know who they are?" Theo asks, tapping away on his phone.

"Yeah. It's another MC. They attacked us on a run and the son of the President took a fall off his bike. He's in a coma, so the President went after my kid in return."

"And your kid was in the care of our sister," Noah realizes.

"Yes."

Noah sighs, running a hand down his face. Then after a few more taps and texts, Theo grins. "Found them."

Jax frowns. "Found who?"

"The people responsible for putting our sister in the hospital."

Jax then tenses. "This is club business, man. We'll handle it."

Both Noah and Theo tense, but end up chuckling. Jax's jaw clenches, but he keeps his anger in check.

Noah says, "If you think it'll remain club business when YN wakes up, then that means my sister hasn't confessed the family secret."

Jax freezes. "What secret?"

"We had to get our start somewhere when our parents died," Theo tells him. "And it just so happened that each of our parents came from very powerful, very wealthy families. We worked our way to the top of the food chain and became rather notorious until we wanted out and settled into the business we currently have."

Noah starts to smirk. "Your club business just became cartel business, my friend. And our uncles are livid that their little girl was attacked."

Jax glances at his boys, but says nothing.

"We'll find them and keep them occupied," Theo says. "When YN is released, she'll be out for blood."

"And she'll get it," Noah muses. "After all, she is quite the little torturer."

When you wake up, you're unsurprised to find Jax by your bedside. You are surprised, however, to learn that he knows about your past thanks to your brothers promising bloodshed. You groan, but then remember Abel. And after assurances that Abel is fine, you relax.

You're anxious to know where you stand with Jax as he explains why you ended up in the hospital. He feels guilty for not telling you what was really going on or putting you on lockdown, along with the club, but you don't blame him for what happened. Dating the President of an MC, you were bound to be pulled into the violence sooner or later, and with your past you knew you could handle it.

When he runs out of steam, it's your turn to start apologizing for not telling him about your life with the cartels. You make sure he knows that you would have never endangered Abel, and if your past had come calling, you would have made sure that they were protected at all costs. Jax assures you he's not mad, but he did wish you would have told him given you knew about the roles some of his brothers played in the club.

But what's done is done, and Jax is more interested in what you plan on doing since your brothers have gone quiet after calling him to inform him that they've got a majority of the MC tucked away in a building that no one can hear the impending mayhem.

"They broke into my home and put a bullet in me just to get to Abel and send a message to you," you say, expression turning thunderous. "The one who shot me doesn't get to walk away. Hell, the ones who fuckin' raised a gun in Abel's direction are lucky that they'll be limping away after I'm done."

"Limping away?"

You slowly smirk at him, lowering your voice. "I'm not gonna draw out my punishment, but my brothers and my uncles' men sure as shit ain't gonna sit back. They're gonna make sure they get the message that they fucked with the wrong people."

Jax huffs a laugh and then ends up staying for as long as the nurses would let him, only leaving when YN's brothers came or he had to go pick up Abel so he'd see that YN was fine for himself.

Then after two and a half days, you're released.

You're still sore, but you've got nothing but vengeance on your mind. When your brothers send you the address of where they're holding several individuals for you to interrogate, you get dressed and head for Teller Automotive.

Some of the guys are surprised to see you up and about, but you wave off their concern as you continue towards the club portion of the shop.

The usual sweetbutts are milling about, cleaning up and most likely getting ready for a party since it is a Friday. You spot Jax and Juice at the bar as Juice taps away on a laptop.

"Boys," you greet as you walk up behind them. "Whatcha workin' on?"

Jax turns in his seat, eyes subtly widening as he stands. "You're out! Why didn't you call me?" He's quick to carefully take you in his arms, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Because if I'd have called you, you'd have taken me home and coddled me."

"Well yeah. You were shot."

"I got shit to take care of, Teller, and I'm not wasting another day."

"Then what are you doing here?"

You shrug. "I just thought that you'd want to see the MC face their consequences."

"Now? You're going to do that now?" He asks, his gaze darting down to your covered abdomen.

"Yep. "My brothers procured a place just on the outskirts of Charming where we won't be interrupted. You in?"

"Well, yeah. Obviously."

"Good. Then gather whoever's in and follow me."

As you sit in your car, you watch Jax as speaks with several of brothers to see who he's going to leave in charge. And after everything is settled, only five follow Jax to their motorcycles- Opie, Happy, Juice, Tig, and Chibs.

You start your car and start to drive, pausing by the gate until Jax and the others start to roll out. You take off, keeping your speed down as you drive through the town. But the moment you get to the road leading out of Charming, you step on the gas and race towards the location your brothers sent to you.

You drive along an empty stretch of road until you turn down a dirt road which is surrounded by empty crop fields that have seen better days. The road leads up to a dilapidated farmhouse, a very rusted horse corral, and behind all that is a barn where several vehicles have parked.

You park and get out, waiting for Jax to find the perfect spot to park their motorcycles. Once they do, you wait until they gather around.

"I know this started off as club business, but now it's cartel business. I can't have you questioning me in there."

"This is your playground," Jax says. "We're just here for a show."

You nod and then turn towards the barn doors, pushing them open with the help of Chibs and Tig when they get stuck. Inside, several men are hanging about on turned over crates or bales of hay, some even sitting at a small wooden table playing cards. Music plays softly in the background, but it's cut off the moment your presence is noticed.

Immediately, every man and woman scramble to their feet as you approach.

In the middle of the barn, there's a line of eight men with burlap sacks over their heads sitting in chairs with their wrists tied down to the armrests and ankles tied to the legs. Walking down the line of men, you snatch the sacks from their heads.

"Wakey, wakey, motherfuckers." Each man is clearly exhausted, agitated, and pissed off.

You save the MC President for last, smirking as he sneers at you. "Stupid bitch." He seethes. "Let us go. Right now."

"Bitch," you muse. "If you're going to insult me, at least call me a cunt. Or whore. Those words have much more of an impact."

"Cunt."

Your fist whips out, striking him across the face so hard that his head jerks to the side. He turns to glare back up at you, spitting blood that lands on your pant leg. "Now, now. If you're going to insult me again, at least be creative about it. Your lack of creativity is sorely disappointing." He roars at you, trying to free his wrists and feet, but you merely laugh and continue to pace in front of his men. "Now I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here and it's quite simple, really." You stop pacing, expression hardening. "You fucked with the wrong woman."

Then like a switch has been flipped, you go back to smiling and pacing, gesturing wildly as you talk. "Normally I wouldn't touch MC business with a ten foot pole, but you fuckers messed up. You broke into my home and went after a child under my care- a child that I hold very near and dear to my heart. So, now your piss poor attempt at taking over territory that doesn't belong to you has now come under cartel jurisdiction, and I will make sure that any stupid motherfuckers who dares to come after the Sons of Anarchy will pay a price."

"Fuck that. We didn't cross any cartel!"

"Oh honey," you mockingly coo as you come to a stop in front of the one who spoke. "I am part of the cartel." Turning around, you walk towards a long table and lift the cloth laying atop of it. Beneath the cloth, there's a variety of weapons. You tuck a glock into the back waistband of your jeans and then grasp a dagger in your dominant hand. Then turning to walk back towards the bound men, you smirk. "Now what I want are the assholes who attacked me and dared to point a gun at a child. You give me those men and the rest of you can walk out of here."

Silence.

Dead fuckin' silence.

"Nothing?" You chuckle. "Come on, guys. Give 'em up. I swear it's not worth protecting them. I mean, I can probably figure it out. Eyes are windows to the soul and all that rot. You might have been wearing masks, but I still remember those cowardly glints very well."

"Fuck you! I ain't no coward."

"Bingo!" You shout, pointing the tip of your blade at the culprit. Walking up to the guy, you can't help but laugh as he realizes his mistake and clamps his mouth shut. "One down, one more to go."

"I ain't telling you shit."

"No?" Switching the dagger to your other hand, you pull the glock free from behind your back. You step close to the man, taking aim at his crotch. "Are you sure about that?"

He cruelly smirks. "You're all talk and no-"

BANG!

The guy immediately starts screaming, his buddies struggling in their chairs, and you laugh. When you glance around the room, you see those you consider family chuckling and the Sons cringing in sympathy as they cover their crotches. You walk around so you're standing behind the screaming fool, swapping the dagger and gun in your hands so the dagger is back in your dominant hand. "Going once… going twice…" He continues to scream, and you sigh when no one else speaks up.

And then before anyone can comprehend what you've done, you've dragged the blade across the guy's neck.

As he gurgles on his blood and his friends shout obscenities at you, you walk around so you're standing before them once again.

"That's three of my men you've killed already," the President says. "I think fair's fair."

"I want the last one," you say. "One last guy and you're good to go."

No one says anything, but the President's expression hardens. There's a cold glint in his eye that you're very familiar with, and you know that should he walk out of these barn doors, he'll do anything and everything for revenge. "Samuel. I sent Samuel."

The Samuel in question squawks and you smile beautifully at him over the shoulder before staring at the President once more. "Harsh. Selling out your own guy like that." You saunter up to him, sighing. "But he's the thing; I hate snitches."

Then before the President can blink, you take aim and pull the trigger. The bullet hits him right between the eyebrows.

The struggling, bound men all seem to cease movement and you turn towards them. "Now that that's out of the way…" You walk back towards Samuel, scoffing at his whimpering. "You might get to live today, Sammy, but not without something to remember why messing with the Sons a big no-no."

"And w-what's that?"

You slowly smile. "Open your fist, Samuel. Lay your hand flat against the armrest."

His eyes widen as he whimpers, but he hesitantly does as you've said. Then when his hand is nice and flat, you drive your blade through the back of his hand, pinning it to the arm rest.

As he screams, you sneer at him and then start to make your way towards the Sons. On your way, you hand off your gun before coming to a stop in front of Jax and pasting on a smile as you glance at each Sons. "Who's hungry?"

"Marry me," Happy grumbles.

You laugh at him, winking, and then glance back at Jax. "You're a little psycho," he says.

"Only when the occasion calls for it. But seriously, can we go get food?"

Jax laughs as he sidles up to your side, sliding an arm along the back of your shoulders. "Do burgers sound good?"

"Burgers sound marvelous. I also want a vanilla milkshake."

"Good. We'll go grab some and surprise Abel. He's been itching to go to your house again."

"Ugh. Your kid is so adorable. But maybe let me settle in before you grab him. My abdomen is on fire and if we tell him I'm sick, maybe he won't be so hyperactive."

"Let me see."

Begrudgingly, you lift the hem of your shirt and glance down. Sure enough, you've bled through your bandages. "New plan; No Abel."

"What? But-"

"Nope." Jax squeezes you to his side as you sigh. "You're gonna go home, Chibs will follow to patch you up, and I'll go pick up some food. Abel can go one more day without seeing you."

"Boo."

The Sons chuckle.

"What about us?" Juice asks, gesturing between himself, Tig, and Happy.

"I don't care, Juice. Do whatever you want."

As they head towards their motorcycles, Jax walks you to your car.

"So, are you really okay with this?" You ask. "Okay with me and all that I'm capable of?"

"Yeah." Jax nods. "More than okay, actually. It's good to know that should shit find its way to your doorstep again, you'll handle it."

"Damn right I will." You swing around so you're standing in front of Jax, arms wrapping around his waist as his go around your shoulders. "I will protect Abel with my life again and again. Never doubt that."

"Just Abel?" His eyebrow arches.

"You're a close second," you muse. Leaning up on the tips of your toes, you peck his lips. "Now seriously. Food, Teller. I need food."

"Yeah, yeah." He kisses you again. "Go home and get settled. I'll be there soon."

Feyd Rautha would understand the gravity of impregnating a member of the Bene Gesserit. The promise of a powerful heir born with the voice and truthsaying abilities meant a stable driving force for House Harkonnen with ties to those closest to The Emperor. But when you grow a swollen stomach, round and full with his child, the political chess moves are far from his mind.

The Na-Baron is obsessed. At first you note his unwillingness to leave your side, refusing to take to the arena and slay Harkonnen prisoners while you are with child. His dual hunting blades gather dust, Feyd choosing instead to pose his aggression against any male Harkonnen that dares look your way.

Usually unaffectionate, Feyd lays claim to you by placing his hands on you often. His palm presses against the swell of your stomach, feeling the tiny kicks of the child inside. It almost makes him more protective, insisting he, alone, protect you.

Seperate from prying eyes, Feyd cannot keep his hands, his lips, off you.

“You witch,” he hisses between heavy kisses, his firm grip hoisting your thighs over his hips, “You have poisoned me— Bewitched me with your Gesserit powers.”

But when Feyd sinks his cock deep inside you, his palms splayed across your swollen stomach, he’s too busy growling out your name to accuse you of sorcery. In truth, Feyd Rautha would readily fill you with his seed again and again to watch you swell with more of his children.

dune masterlist

◇ 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 ◇

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟒: 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 18+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

◦ 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐦! 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warning: edging, teasing, sex! toy (vibrator!), pussy eating, soft dom marc, overstimulation

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You really wish you hadn’t tried getting back at Marc. Teasing him never went well for you, it always ended you up in the position you were in at the moment.

Your wrists were tied to the headboard with your legs spread, marc between your thighs with your legs above his shoulders. He wasn’t fucking you with his fingers or eating you out. He was holding a vibrator to your acing clit, circle it softly then pulling back as soon as he saw your legs shake.

“Told you honey, right before we walked out that door didn’t I?” Marc cooed. You whined in agony as your pussy pulsed and dripped in need. He’d been at it for who knows how long.

You went out with Marc tonight, the late night bar date was going well until you told him to look under the table. Marc’s body tensed as he saw you wearing no panties, just the thin fabric of the dress hiding what’s his from the world.

Now you were here, tied up and being edged for the past 30 minutes. “I- I’m sorry” you choked out as Marc ran the warm silicone up your sticky folds. The sound of the vibration and your slick making you even needier.

“No you aren’t and that’s ok, I don’t mind this” he mocked as he pressed the vibrator down onto your clit. Your hips bucked up in the air as you squeezed your eyes shut and focused on the pleasure.

You felt the knot getting tighter and tighter as he slowly circled the toy into your messy cunt. Marc smiled up at you, pulling the toy away the second he saw you too comfortable.

You let out a pitiful cry, tears streaming down your face as the edging was getting to much. “Ple- p- please Marc, please” you cried out.

“I know sweetheart, sucks doesn’t it?” He mocked. His lips pressed a soft kiss into your inner thigh, his hand moving the toy back up to your clit and dragging it through your folds.

“Think you’ve had enough punishment for today yeah?” He hummed. You nodded weakly with tears streaming down your face and body shaking. Marc turned the vibrator off, your soft smile turning into a frown as he threw the toy to the side.

Before you could get a word out his mouth was lapping at your pussy. His tongue working at your swollen clit that was covered in slick “mhm so fucking g- good” Marc groaned as he rolled his tongue around your clit.

A loud whine spilled out your lips as he bobbed his head and lapped as if his life depended on it. Your hands flew to his hair as you felt your orgasm wash over you.

The nerves in your body tingling as you finally got the release you’ve been dying for. Your breathy moans filled the room as he didn’t stop, causing your body to shiver and squirm under him.

Marc gave one last lick with a pop of his lips, his mouth covered in your wetness as he lifted two fingers onto his cheeks and collected your cum with his fingers, sucking them clean with a moan.

Both of you knew that this wouldn’t be the last time, and you were definitely not sorry.

◇ 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 ◇

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟒: 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 18+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

◦ 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐦! 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warning: edging, teasing, sex! toy (vibrator!), pussy eating, soft dom marc, overstimulation

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You really wish you hadn’t tried getting back at Marc. Teasing him never went well for you, it always ended you up in the position you were in at the moment.

Your wrists were tied to the headboard with your legs spread, marc between your thighs with your legs above his shoulders. He wasn’t fucking you with his fingers or eating you out. He was holding a vibrator to your acing clit, circle it softly then pulling back as soon as he saw your legs shake.

“Told you honey, right before we walked out that door didn’t I?” Marc cooed. You whined in agony as your pussy pulsed and dripped in need. He’d been at it for who knows how long.

You went out with Marc tonight, the late night bar date was going well until you told him to look under the table. Marc’s body tensed as he saw you wearing no panties, just the thin fabric of the dress hiding what’s his from the world.

Now you were here, tied up and being edged for the past 30 minutes. “I- I’m sorry” you choked out as Marc ran the warm silicone up your sticky folds. The sound of the vibration and your slick making you even needier.

“No you aren’t and that’s ok, I don’t mind this” he mocked as he pressed the vibrator down onto your clit. Your hips bucked up in the air as you squeezed your eyes shut and focused on the pleasure.

You felt the knot getting tighter and tighter as he slowly circled the toy into your messy cunt. Marc smiled up at you, pulling the toy away the second he saw you too comfortable.

You let out a pitiful cry, tears streaming down your face as the edging was getting to much. “Ple- p- please Marc, please” you cried out.

“I know sweetheart, sucks doesn’t it?” He mocked. His lips pressed a soft kiss into your inner thigh, his hand moving the toy back up to your clit and dragging it through your folds.

“Think you’ve had enough punishment for today yeah?” He hummed. You nodded weakly with tears streaming down your face and body shaking. Marc turned the vibrator off, your soft smile turning into a frown as he threw the toy to the side.

Before you could get a word out his mouth was lapping at your pussy. His tongue working at your swollen clit that was covered in slick “mhm so fucking g- good” Marc groaned as he rolled his tongue around your clit.

A loud whine spilled out your lips as he bobbed his head and lapped as if his life depended on it. Your hands flew to his hair as you felt your orgasm wash over you.

The nerves in your body tingling as you finally got the release you’ve been dying for. Your breathy moans filled the room as he didn’t stop, causing your body to shiver and squirm under him.

Marc gave one last lick with a pop of his lips, his mouth covered in your wetness as he lifted two fingers onto his cheeks and collected your cum with his fingers, sucking them clean with a moan.

Both of you knew that this wouldn’t be the last time, and you were definitely not sorry.

Setting: Cabin

Genre: Mystery 

Trope: Undercover Married 

Prompt: On a roadtrip together 

Kink: Exhibitionism

from the fic prompt generator with Adrian?

ok i hope you were hoping for a full on fic bc here it is

Being Watched

smut, basically the prompt, i got carried away

“Adebayo I just don’t understand why we have to be married on all of these missions,” you sigh into the receiver of your burner phone, the sound of the shower in the cabin drowning out any possibility of your best friend hearing. The shitty flip phone looks ridiculous, and anyone would peg you as undercover at this resort. There are senators here, senators who very well could be butterflies, and you’re here with a flip phone in the honeymoon cabin after driving 6 hours in the Vigilante-Mobile with Adrian singing along to Carly Rae Jepsen. Not that you minded that part, you sang along with him and fed him sour gummy worms while he got you there safely. 

“You guys just… work like that,” she responds, not even trying to hide her snickering on the other end. She’s right, check in at the resort went smoothly because Adrian slipped his right arm around your waist and made a show of waving around his wedding ring to all of the staff, kissing the side of your head and gushing about how excited he was that the bed was one of those vintage round ones from the 70s in the cabin. You yourself couldn’t stop blushing while you curled into him and clutched your suitcase close. You looked like a couple madly in love. Leota reminds you to keep your head on straight and to stay safe and all the other things you have to do before you’re rushing off the phone because you hear the shower stop. 

It’s only a few moments until your friend, your best friend, comes out of the little bathroom of the cabin with nothing but a towel draped low around his hips. 

Fuck, this was going to be harder than you thought.

But wasn’t it always? Don’t you always go through this? Adrian always parades around the hotel or villa or cabin you’re in with that damn wedding ring on his finger and you always practically jump out of your skin, itching to move closer to him under the sheets at night or to kiss his lips in private, away from potential counter surveillance. 

A part of you suspects this is just a forced proximity thing. You didn’t always want to fall into bed with your best friend since high school, and you didn’t always wish the wedding rings were real. But now you do, sometimes overwhelmingly so…

“What? Did I scrub too hard and accidentally wipe a nipple off?”

Fuck, you’ve been staring, checking him out like some kind of perv. You shake your head, nervous that somehow Adrian gained the ability to read minds or something from too many hits to the head. 

“Nope, I didn’t,” he confirms to himself, looking down at his bare chest to check. 

“Sorry, Ade, I must have zoned out,” you physically shake yourself out of it. You can do this. 

“Are you gonna shower too?” he asks, and you swear he’s flexing now, his biceps chiseled and shiny in the lamplight. You never thought of yourself as the type to go after muscular dudes, and you still aren’t really, Adrian is just an exception. 

You nod, quickly rifling through your bag for your toiletries and speeding to the bathroom door for some privacy.

The click of the door in the latch triggers a sigh you didn’t realize was building in your chest. Just three more days, you tell yourself, three more days of this week long recon mission and you could go home, scrub the smell of his cologne off of you and touch yourself until you passed out to get rid of all this tension in your body.

You fiddle with the nob on the shower and shed your clothes quickly to jump under the slightly too hot spray. 

This is exactly what you needed. You let the steam rolling off the tiles and your skin evaporate all the tension in your muscles and your mind. You relax fully. Maybe you can just spend the rest of the night in bed watching shitty cable movies and laughing and your feelings can bury themselves for the evening. 

Your relaxation is short lived, though. 

“Hey Honey?” Adrian calls through the door; Honey is the codename for when things go sour. Shit. 

“Can I come in?”

You fiddle with the nob and quickly end your shower, lucky to be done with the shampoo so you can hastily grab the towel and wrap it around you. 

“Of course, Sugar!” you call, back, quickly unlocking the door and open it for him to scurry in, now clad in his sweatpants and an athletic training top that truly did you no favors in sparing you from his looks. He presses his back against the door, looking up around the perimeters of the ceiling. 

“What’s going on?” you whisper, clutching your towel tighter to yourself. 

“We’re being watched,” Adrian tells you, pushing up his glasses and only letting his eyes dart briefly to your body, “I just saw one of the cameras turn on, little red light next to the smoke detector.”

“There’s supposed to be a light, Ade,” you sigh, “There’s supposed to be a red light. That means it's working to y’know, detect smoke.”

You roll your eyes and turn away from him, grabbing the loose sweatshirt you brought in here and bringing it down around you without disrupting the towel; a talent you mastered from having to bunk with the guys on too many occasions.

“No that’s—“ Adrian stops himself and curses under his breath, “I know that. You have a smoke detector in your apartment.”

You snap your head up to look at him while you grab your sweatshorts. 

“Why do you say that like your apartment doesn’t have a smoke detector?”

Adrian just smiles at you. 

“Okay,” you physically shake your head to keep yourself from doing the mental gymnastics on that one, pulling your shorts over your thighs, “So, typical plan H?” 

You hate plan H. Plan H is a fake-out make-out until whoever is watching stops. You’ve done this countless times, and never has it gotten easier. Once you stop kissing its back to the normal friend shit and the ice cold longing that sinks into your gut. Every time his lips fall on yours you beg and pray to any god that will listen that this will be real, that you won't stop once you realize the coast is clear. Every time he makes you moan it's for real, and he always compliments your acting skills. You’re a shit fucking actor and you know it. You thought he knew it too, for how well he knew you. 

You sigh.

“Plan H it is,” and you towel off your hair as much as possible. It's going to get ruined and you'll just have to re-shower in the morning. But if it gets surveillance out of your room, its worth the risk. No one ever wants to watch “newlyweds” go at it. He watches you squeeze the excess moisture from your hair with an expression you can’t exactly place. With Adrian, it’s usually so easy to tell how he’s feeling. Somehow, he never learned how to hide himself or how to be sarcastic or to read emotions. But this look in his eyes you can’t figure out; it’s dark and far off and seems to be trained on your knees of all places, from what you can tell of blotting your hair upside down.

This dance is like all the rest. You come barreling out of the bathroom all hand and lips and limbs and he practically throws you on the rounded mattress. Its like this every time, you throw your leg over his hip and he licks at your jaw and you moan and you cry out genuinely because you're sensitive and you love it.

You let yourself fall onto your back, not even putting your elbows down to break your fall. Adrian’s arms quickly cage you down like a vice, his entire body pushing onto yours, his weight apparent but not crushing. 

“Fuck, I’m so glad I can call you my wife,” he says, looking into your eyes but loud enough for any camera to hear. You roll your neck back, opening it up for him to kiss the full expanse of it and play the role of dutiful lover.

“My love,” you gasp, his mouth latching onto the skin above your jugular. He sets your skin aflame, makes you burn. Adrian kisses all the skin on your neck he can reach before he throws the covers over you. This is the finale piece.

And god, how you wish this was real. It feels like torture to be so close to the real thing and to not actually have it. Knowing that you’ll be pent up and jumpy for the rest of this mission and spend an entire night with your vibrator between your legs the moment debrief is over. That the expectation now, that’s what always happens.

What you don’t expect is for Adrian to push himself back from you to pull his shirt from his chest. Fucking hell, you think, your eyes following the reveal of skin, from his happy trail on his abs to the little dusting of chest hair on his sculpted pectorals, the finale being his broad shoulders that lead to arms strong enough to carry you like you’re weightless.

He spreads your legs and pushes himself between them, and you immediately curse yourself for not putting on underwear when you threw on your shorts. That meant your panties were somewhere in the bathroom and there were so many more chances to embarrass yourself now. He slots himself between your legs in a way that looks real. Anyone watching on the other side of that little red light wouldn’t know the difference. That was key to Plan H, something you and Adrian had actually fumbled through practicing in his apartment one night, setting up his phone in different vantage points and testing what motions looked real. 

Adrian pulls at the neckline of your sweatshirt, already stretched out from years of wear as you thread your fingers through his curls. God they feel so soft, so much more defined and luscious since you convinced him to ditch the five in one.

Adrian moans against your skin, and you go stiff. 

“Do it again,” he whispers, the breath of a laugh on his words and it’s only now that you realized you had tugged on his hair. 

You open your eyes to the sight of the mirror over the bed, taking in your appearance. Your hair is tangled and damp, you look like a drowned rat. Adrian however, is all rippling back muscles and reddened scar tissue from a nasty fight the two of you barely got out of making his pale skin look even more beautiful. Shit, this really looks real, the way he’s eagerly nipping at your collarbone and neck, the way he’s flexing his muscles and taking control of the situation. Adrian is many things, your best friend, a possible maniac, weapons expert, slightly emotionally stunted, but he could easily add erotic stand in on a movie set to that list.

You decide to help him out, hiking your parted knees up until they’re around his hips, and one of his hands grips the back of your knee and pushes the leg even farther. Without thinking, you let out the neediest whine you've ever heard, feeling your skin ignite. You have entirely too many clothes on. You watch your own eyes in the overhead mirror, pupils blown wide and a stray tear leaning from the outer corner, your lips fallen open in desperation. You’re fucked. 

You tear your eyes away from yourself, desperate to do anything but break your own heart over the fact that this is not at all real and you will have to sleep in this very bed with him tonight. Your gaze drifts to the smoke detector with its damned red light. 

It’s singular red light. 

Just one, not two. 

That means…

“Adrian! Adrian, stop,” your hands move to brace themselves on his chest, putting distance between you where his lips had made connection with the underside of your jaw.

He pulls apart like he’s been burned, all except for where your legs are still hitched around his waist. 

“What’s wrong, did I hurt you?”

His eyes are wide with panic, darting around your face to look for signs of pain, of anger, of disgust. You know exactly what he’s doing. He’s been searching for that disgusted look since high school and he’s never grown out of it. You know the look well, having watched him make it towards women at community college, as well as being on the receiving end of it once or twice.

“No,” you say, your hand rubbing at his shoulder to try to soothe him. As much as he tries to say he doesn’t have emotions, you can feel them in his tense muscles. 

“Ade, look at the smoke detector again.”

He does as you say, giving you a full view of his toned neck; gorgeous and just there for the biting and if this was real you would have wasted no time in sucking a dark hickey into the expanse of skin there, claiming him as your own for all to see. Not that he’s exactly someone who has people lining up to get with him, but still. If anyone wanted to they just couldn’t. 

“It’s the normal amount of lights,” he says, but he makes no move to get off of you. You don’t want him to though, and it’s not like you untangle your legs from his waist either. 

“They stopped watching,” he continues, eyes darting around, searching your face for a new game plan. 

“I guess we should…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact as much as possible and finally starting to slip you legs away from where you had so hastily wrapped them around him. You had made a mistake there, getting way too into it yourself. This isn't the kind of place where you can get selfish, you think, there are lives at stake.

Adrian’s eyes are dark with something unknown, his expression unreadable as he searches your face once more. 

“We don't have to,” his voice sounds so matter-of-fact.

“Adrian… what-” your eyebrows furrow as you wrack your brain trying to figure him out. You start to move your legs, unhooking your ankles and unlocking yourself from Adrian’s hips- when he stops you in your tracks; hand planted on your thighs to keep them in place.

“What if… What if I want to keep going?” he asks a bold question with an equally bold straightforward delivery. What if he wants to keep going? Is this a fucking joke? He isn't the type to joke like this.

“Do you?” you ask, ready to risk it all. The words are out of your mouth before you can weigh the consequences of them. 

Adrian scoffs.

“Duh,” he says, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. As if, of course, of course he would want to keep going, would want to keep ravaging you and throwing you into the deep end of this torture. 

“We… Our friendship,” you gasp, grasping at something almost dumbly.

“You mean our friendship that I already totally ruined?” he balks, as if you're late to the party, as if you should already know.

“Ruined?” you parrot, and his left hand shoots to your knee,keeping you from slipping away from him.

“Yeah, I mean like, by falling in love with you and shit. I thought you knew. Chris makes fun of me all the time,” he admits, and finally his grip on you loosens. He gives you every opportunity to move away and get out of this position. That look of bracing for disgust evident in his eyes again in full force and absolutely killing you. 

“Adrian,” you say, trailing off, the words confirming in failing on your tongue. Of course you'd heard Chris making fun of Adrian, but he makes fun of Adrian for everything so you figured it was better to ignore it.

Adrian pushes himself off of you to lean back on his knees, starting to pat the bed feeling around for his shirt. 

“Wait, Ade!” You almost scream, ready to beg as long as he stays exactly how he is. Between your legs.

He freezes, his expression unreadable to you for maybe the first time ever.

“What if I want to keep going too?” you ask, voice timid and far away, but your arms remain loose and planted around his neck. 

“Do you?” he asks, not at all hiding his enthusiasm. You fucking love that about him. He looks so excited. So happy, and knowing it's all for you...

You fucking kiss him instead of formally responding, arching your back and pushing yourself up to connect with him, forcing your lips to make contact so he knows, he knows, that you’re desperate for it. His tongue licks against your lips and you moan wantonly, not unlike your fake recon moan, but this time entirely real and something you fully intended on hiding until Adrian embarrassingly pulled it from you. 

You accept his tongue in your mouth eagerly, letting him take the lead and pulling more moans from you, absolutely kissing all of your resolve out of you.

“Fuck me, Ade,” you whisper, puling your lips away from his for a moment, ready to scream the same words if he asks.

“Me?” he asks, “You want me? Jesus, I’ve been waiting so long to hear that.”

“Not as long as me, I promise,” you laugh, and pull him back down onto you, fingers threading into his curls again.

You tug on his hair again as his teeth graze your bottom lip, earning an absolutely sinful groan from his lips. You've heard this man yell and scream and groan in pain but nothing like this; this is like heaven itself, better than any drug you could think of. Better than the indica strain in your vape that Adrian always yells at you for hitting in the Vigilante-mobile.

He bites down on your lip, not worrying about whether or not it hurts, reveling in the yelp you let loose against his mouth. Adrian’s hands travel up your thighs, over your hips and those little sweat shorts, squeezing right against your pelvic joints, and then finally they dip under your sweatshirt, his hot calloused hands against your smooth skin. 

“You know,” he starts, open mouth working its way back from your mouth to your jaw, “It kinda sucks they aren’t watching anymore. Woulda been hot.”

Your brain fries and short circuits at his words. You peek an eye open at him, eyes blissfully closed and still continuing his kissing as if that was the most normal thing for him to say. Honestly, you figured Adrian had to be into some kinky shit. You've heard him discuss his threesomes with Chris, and you've seen what the trunk of his sebring looks like. He can protest all he wants but you know the fuzzy pink handcuffs aren't for any kind of “bad guy” he could be up against. Plus, he just kills them. He doesn't exactly take prisoners.

“You wanted an audience for this?” Surprise more evident in your voice than you meant it to be. Part of you thinks you might have slipped and fell in the shower and this is some sort of hallucination or fucked up knock-out dream. 

His hips twitch and buck into yours, and you easily respond with a roll of your hips in return. 

“Want those fucks to see I finally got the girl,” he responds, rocking his hips back up into you again, but on purpose this time. His hands travel to your chest and your heart breaks for him a little. You know if this goes well you'll be his first real girlfriend. The first girl to spend more than one consecutive night, the first girl to do dishes and laundry with him, the first girl to not run because you know all the ugly shit he’s done and you already don't care. 

“Always had me, babe,” you pant. Your back arches off the mattress as you meet the movement of his hips, now working up a rhythm against each other.

“We both just needed to pretend to be married to get it right,” you joke, pushing him back only enough for you to wiggle out of your sweatshirt and throw it towards the edge of the bed. Now you know what Adebayo was talking about on the phone. You guys just work like that. Like a married couple, like a real couple. He laughs and starts kissing down your chest, immediately latching himself onto one breast while he grabs at your waist. You tug on his hair again as your other hand starts to travel his toned back. He’s absolutely beautiful, you think, running your fingertips over the freckles along his shoulder blades that you've memorized at this point.

“Need to-,” you gasp as he bites down on the underside of your breast, and you're sure youll be covered in marks by dawn, “Need to feel you.”

You aren't sure when you became a beggar, or maybe Adrian just made you one. 

“Oh you’ll feel me,” he promises, starting to kiss his way down your ribcage, down your stomach. He’s much more of a kisser than you imagined, much more attentive and much more loving. You almost feel bad for not thinking of him like this when you used to touch yourself to the thought of him. That feeling immediately dissolves when he then bites at your hip, his hands pulling at your shorts to give him more access to your skin. 

It’s awkward and fumbling to get you out of your shorts, not unlike two teens going at it on prom night, all nerves and fear and curiosity bound in eagerness. He tries to whip them off of your calves, resulting only in jerking your ankles up awkwardly, and the two of you burst into a comfortable laughter as you remove them yourself the rest of the way.

He freezes for a moment, finally seeing you completely bare. At first, it’s extremely flattering, his lips hanging open and his eyes wide as they search your form.

And then you find your arms slinking from their position on his shoulders to try to cover yourself, only to be stopped by Adrian himself. His rough hands wrap themselves around your wrists, pinning them down so they can’t go where you wanted. 

“Can’t hide from the Vigilante,” he jokes, bravado evident in his voice. 

You only roll your eyes and giggle in response.

“Please don’t tell me you’ll be Vigilante in bed too,” you counter. 

“Might chase you.”

You know he’s serious, just like you know he’s serious about wishing the camera was still watching. 

Heat floods your body, and suddenly all of this is so real, Adrian, his hips pressed against your bare body between your legs, his dusting of curly brown hair on his chest, the warm eyes behind glasses staring straight back into yours.

“Adrian…” you trail off, not sure what you're trying to say or ask. It's all just, the Adrian of it all.

“No, I’m serious, babe. I might chase you,” and everything in his tone tells you he’s serious.

“Please… Adrian,” you don't even finish the sentence, because he knows exactly what you're asking for. His hands abandon your wrists to find themselves on your hips again and his lips find your own. He kisses you deeply, like a promise, hard and slow as his fingers move eagerly. Featherlight touches you didn’t expect him capable of trail from your hips to the apex of your legs. You’re so thankful you shaved in the shower; you know Adrian wouldn’t actually give a fuck about body hair, but there’s just something about a first impression you can’t help but feel. 

You gasp against his mouth the moment his finger dips and bumps against your clit, clumsy, but perfect. He doesn't stop kissing you as he explores further, tracing circles against your clit delicately, and then more forcefully.

You can tell by the way he kisses you that he’s studying, testing the waters to see what gives you the most pleasure, what you react most to. He switches from his circular motion to a rocking back and forth of his fingertip over your clit, and you think it's lights out for a second; Fuck, it feels so good. 

“Oh, that's it,” he whispers, lips still smashed against yours. You can only whine in response, high pitched and needy. You try to arch your back, try to move in any way you can to get Adrian better access to you. He only pushes you further, his grip of one hand so tight on your hip it could bruise, the other working hard to make you feel good. But he doesn't even need to work that hard, with the way you are moaning and crying against him. Your skin burns under his touch, and freezes with the absence of it. You come alive like a wire tripped and electrified under him. You love it, and you knew you would,  but it feels so different from the idea of him and the real thing. There's so much romance here, even if Adrian’s lack of romance could possibly deny that.

“Fuckin’ love it,” you moan against him, and he tries to roll his hips, incapacitated by his own hand. Quickly he pulls himself away letting his sweatpants clothed cock shove against you.

You can feel it, sort of. You can feel that his cock is big and that he knows how to move his hips but you want to know everything about it, want to memorize every ride and twist and dip of his body.

You pull your lips from his, ripping yourself to the side just long enough to speak.

“Gimme all of it,” you beg, and he absolutely does not hesitate. Adrian removes his hand from where he's working you over to the waistband of his pants so he can free himself for you. 

He wiggles his sweatpants down awkwardly, fumbling and tangled up, but frees himself without any comment from you. You can’t say that you were exactly graceful either, the eagerness taking over your motor skills momentarily.

Adrian pauses for a second, letting the moment sink in. You’re bare before each other for the first time on purpose. It’s not like when he would come in through your window unannounced after work and you’d scream and throw shoes at him. It’s full of lust and love and sheer nerves. For both of you, it isn't your first time, but as he pushes into you without weird decorum of virginity, it feels almost alien, but at the same time, this is how it's supposed to happen. He bottoms out with a little smile, searching your face for any sign of pain or discomfort. If he finds any, it fades away quickly with a kiss. His eyes are the prettiest shade of brown, you think, feeling your own little smile grace your lips. 

“Guess the newlywed cabin is living up to its name finally,” you joke, stopping again to press a kiss against his lips, “only took, what, multiple missions?”

Seven. It took seven missions.

Adrian snaps at this point. His hips move, completely without warning to thrust back out and into you again, so roughly and perfectly Adrian that it feels too good. It's everything you imagined and more.

“Wish this was happening every time,” He thrusts more, “Imagined us actually married.” 

He moans, relinquishing his self control to how good it feels. All of your nerves were already on fire, but his words kick you into overdrive, the same way that when you hold your finger over a candle too long it feels almost cold. Your nails rake down his back as his pace picks up, your legs around his back giving you leverage to thrust back on every snap of his hips. 

“Wanna be yours,” you moan, your head thrown back against the pillow to give yourself better leverage to arch your back.

“Wish that fuckin’ camera was still on,” He groans, “Want everyone to know you’re mine.”

He dips his head down, first connecting with the underside of your jaw, then to the side of your neck where he bites down, hard and unapologetic; You know it's gonna bruise up to a dark purple by morning.

“Fuck,” you moan, “Keep that up and they’re gonna.”

Adrian only laughs against your skin, and bites down again. He doesn’t falter or change his pace, his hips always snapping recklessly against you. You feel more full than you ever have, something about Adrian invading all of your senses and overwhelming all of them has you a mess already. You’re sure he’s gonna last longer than you, already your body feeling like it’s floating in space and already your mind drowning in everything Adrian.

“Adri-” you whine, but off by your own voice, as your body jolts under his touch. More accurately, his slap. Its light and playful and just enough to drive you that much further towards the edge.

“Oh… You liked that?” 

You nod.

He laughs, scrunching his nose to try and push his glasses back up his nose.

“I knew you would. Had to be kinky if you were into me,” he sighs, before slapping your cheek again a little harder, and you find your moan melting into a laugh. He’s so effortlessly hot while still being adorable Adrian. He knows you so well.

“Fuck me harder, babe,” you beg, finding it harder and harder to form words as tension rises in your body, your body overheated and every nerve like fireworks. Adrian seems to be spurred on even more by the pet name, immediately pushing into you even harder the second you call him babe. 

You can feel your orgasm building quickly, now completely sure you're gonna finish before him. He pistons into you, hips pressing flush against you, his balls against your ass. He’s no longer pulling all the way out, instead staying deep inside you and grinding his hips harder into you. It's absolutely driving you wild, moans and whines spilling from your lips. You're close, so incredibly close, and there's no way he can’t feel it from his position. He presses his whole being against you, his sweaty chest against you, his forehead pressed against yours. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, this is even more perfect than you ever could have imagined. And now you see it, the way Adrian could so easily pretend you were actually married. How easily all of this came to you both, how well you knew each other's bodies without ever doing this before. That deeper feeling without a name.

Your fingers move from his back, surely scratched and maybe even a little ripped up from your nails, and to his scalp, to those bouncy curls that you always look for in a crowded room.

“Fuck!” Adrian practically shouts as you pull at them, rutting harder into you even still. That pushes you over the edge, and you barely register the shaking of your legs or the low moan in your throat as your fist tightens in his hair. 

“Goddamn,” he chuckles, hands leaving their place on the mattress to cup your cheeks as he lets you come down from your high and finishes off himself. You whine almost pitifully as you can feel the searing heat of him spilling inside you, and he just soothes you with the sweetest kisses you've ever tasted. He stays there a little while, a lot more gentle and intuitive than you expected of him. He wipes away tears you hadn't realized had fallen and he lets you catch your breath. 

“My pretty wife,” he sighs, moving slowly as he finally pulls out of you, the sting of his departure and the cool air of the cabin knocking you like a wave. 

“Not your wife,” you correct him, but your voice is full of love and exhaustion. 

Not your wife, yet, at least. You can't afford to get ahead of yourself, especially not when you work on this team, but you let the thought pass through your mind without punishing yourself at least. 

Adrian just laughs, full and boisterous as he pulls you into his chest and holds you there in an iron grip. You think for a moment, that maybe he does that so you won't leave. You weren't planning on it anyway. 

“I still wish the camera was on,” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your hairline. 

“I know, babe,” you mumble, eyes getting heavier. 

And then. 

“Wait, Adrian, can we circle back to the thing where I don't think you own a smoke detector?”

'is it my size?'

'you have to ask?'

sorry i forgot how fucking amazing that scene was.

Catie speaks the truth.

Only bars keep us apart - Chpt. 2

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x femReader

Word Count: 4280

Summary: Over the past few weeks you keep on catching yourself thinking of Crane more than you should. You two get to know each other better, and he knows exactly what impact he has on you. At least you're safe with him behind those bars...right?

Warnings/Tags: angst, teasing, protective!Crane, minor mention of blood

A/N: I am truly sorry that it took so long🥲but the second part is finally here! It's not yet the end of the story but I hope I'll finish the next part quicker than this one XD. Have fun reading😊💜! ~✨Star

PART ONE

You’ve been working at the Asylum for three months by now and you’d be lying claiming that you didn’t like the attention he gave you. How couldn’t you now that you saw him every day and were allowed to have longer talks with him? You’ve been interested in him from the start but over time just like the trees outside your interest in him blossomed into something beautiful. He was intimidating but somehow it gave you a sense of safety to have the bars between the two of you at all times. His smart ocean eyes that bored right into your soul read you like an open book. His smooth, deep voice sent shivers down your spine and made your heart flutter. You’ve never met someone like him before and still, there was something drawing you in.

You had gotten used to your daily schedule by now; Get to the asylum in the morning, check in with your boss before talking to a few of the more harmless inmates. Then you had lunch and finally, it was time for your daily conversation with him. The only thing that changed was that with every day that passed, you walked down the hallway of his cell a little slower when it wasn’t quite time to see him yet. You lived for these few more seconds you could feel his eyes on you. For these few more words that fell between the two of you. Your interactions were the only thing motivating you to go to the asylum.

At night you lay awake, unable to shake off the feeling of his eyes grazing your body up and down. Whenever you fell asleep eventually, your dreams revolved around him. Somehow deep down you seemed to wish for him to step through that door and overcome the barrier between the two of you. But every night, right before he did, you woke up. And you hated yourself for it every single morning. Why the hell would you want him to get out of the cell they put him in for good reasons? Why were you so intimidated but longed for him to be free in your dreams? How did that make any sense? Were you slowly going insane in there?

On your way to the Asylum, you thought back to one of your many talks a few weeks ago…

Crane casually leaned back in his chair and folded his chained hands on his lap. His eyes studied you intensely as you sat down and adjusted your blouse. Looking up you noticed his gaze and raised an eyebrow at him, which made him smirk. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Don’t call me that,” you said firmly.

“Why not?” he asked calmly. “Is it that wrong to state a fact?”

“It’s rude, we barely know each other,” you told him and grabbed your pen, scribbling down the date on your paper.

Crane sighed and rolled his eyes. “I miss the time when you could compliment a woman without being called rude or a creep.”

“Oh, so it’s a compliment?” you asked defensively. You wouldn’t fall for his charms even more. You were here on a professional basis and not to flirt with the inmates.

“It was intended as one, yes,” he said calmly and raised his eyebrows at you. “Is that a problem?”

You met his eyes and swallowed hard. “I’m here to do my job, okay? You are part of my assignment, that’s why I’m here.”

“Purely that?” he asked curiously.

“Purely that,” you nodded firmly and brushed back a strand of your hair.

“So you drew the card no one else wanted,” he nodded more to himself and you frowned at him confused. “I’ve been there…but I found it quite interesting here.”

“I bet,” you commented dryly. “It must’ve felt like home,” you added and bit your tongue hard once you realized what you just said. Shit, you weren’t here to tease him and make fun of him.

“Does my suffering amuse you, L/N?” he asked, not looking offended one bit. 

“Did the suffering you put others through amuse you, Dr. Crane?” you asked back, deciding not to let him win that one.

“Amusement is the wrong word here…It delighted me, actually,” he told you and studied your face observantly. He watched your expression change to a mask of horror before anger and disgust laced your features. “There we have it.”

“You’re sick,” you spat out and stared at him. Well, what did you expect? That he didn’t decide to send people into insanity with his fear toxin? That in fact he was just a misunderstood soul who longed for nothing more than to be loved by someone and not harm others?

Crane shook his head and made a disappointed noise. “What’s one of the first rules you learned talking to a patient or client?”

“Excuse me?” you asked.

“Let me help you out,” he smiled, almost gently. “Never, and I repeat, never, judge the person sitting opposite you and insult them. Always stay neutral while talking to your client, no matter how crazy they really are.” His blue eyes lit up for a second as the word crazy mockingly rolled off his tongue.

“That’s rich coming from you,” you spoke firmly. 

“You think so? Allow me to elaborate on that,” he said and started talking. You didn’t really listen, trying to calm down and sort your thoughts. You had a job to do, for fucks sake. Before you realized it your eyes were wandering over his body. You took in his confident posture, the way his full lips moved as he rambled on, his ocean-blue orbs displaying a theatre of emotions. You-. “Why aren’t you taking any notes?”

“I’m not here to write your memoirs,” you snorted softly. “I’m here to analyze you and I have a good memory, thank you.”

“Analyze me…Are we talking about my psyche here? Because the travels of your eyes tell me there’s a different sort of analysis going on,” he said almost mockingly and smirked succeedingly as the blush rose to your cheeks.

“Shut up,” you pressed out.

“So you can write down that I seemed awfully quiet today as if I had something stupid in mind? I don’t think so,” he smiled politely.

“Can we focus on the task at hand?” you asked frustrated and scribbled down his name on the questionnaire.

“I can,” he nodded.

…

Your casual conversations had gotten interrupted several times by now. About two weeks ago, a soldier from the military had been appointed to keep Crane behind bars, since rumors of a planned breakout sent panic throughout the city. The soldier had laid eyes on you and he had not given you a minute to breathe ever since. Not once. Suddenly, making your way down that hallway wasn’t fun at all anymore.

It was rather irritating, as you were trying to enjoy Crane trying to indulge you in some small talk, slowly easing you into longer conversations, when said soldier kept on flirting with you. Persistently so. 

You really didn't want to hear how hot you looked in your work clothes. And you definitely didn't want to hear how he praised himself to heaven and back, annoying you with what a good boyfriend he would be. It made you uncomfortable and not even Crane’s mindfuckery reached that level of discomfort.

Speaking of Crane, he obviously noticed your discomfort. He had not spoken up - not even once - which made it worse. No, he rather seemed to enjoy your aggressive talks with the said soldier. He seemed to like seeing you try to get out of the conversation, and how you tried to be polite and stand your ground at the same time. You hated him for the joy it seemed to bring him.

Three days ago the soldier really stepped over the line, smacking your bum as you walked past him. You had been too stunned to speak, trying to swallow down your fear, and quickly made your way back home… 

You couldn’t sleep and tried to fight down your sickness as you walked back to Crane’s cell the next day. You sent the soldier away, as always during your sessions with Crane, and sat down heavily. Quietly, you wrote down the date and his name, not looking up at him once. “How are you feeling today?” you asked then, staring at your first question. Crane remained quiet and after a long moment of silence you sighed and looked up. He studied you intensely, tilting his head a little as you finally looked up. “What? You didn’t hear me?” you asked more aggressively than you had intended.

“I’m doing fine, thank you,” he said calmly before squinting his eyes at you. “I suppose it’s a bad moment to ask you the same?” You remained quiet, only confirming his thoughts. “You can’t even keep eye contact, that’s dangerous in here. There won’t always be a guard around to protect you.”

“The guards are even worse than some inmates,” you spat out, still not looking up at him.

“I could’ve told you that on day one,” he smiled as you glanced up at him suspiciously. “Will you really let him mess up this opportunity for you?”

“Excuse me?” you asked quietly, a shiver running down your spine. “Who are you talking about?”

“I thought someone as stunningly beautiful as you are would be familiar with men acting up around you?” he gave back and raised his eyebrows at you. “But as it seems him touching you has been a first.”

You shifted in your seat and swallowed hard. “Why would I be alright if it happened more often?”

“I didn’t say it would be alright…but you’d be less shocked,” he shrugged. “Are you afraid of him?”

“Why would I tell you that?” you asked sharply. “So you can analyze someone’s fear? It’s the other way around here, I’m the one in charge.”

He smirked and rolled his eyes. “My dear, the patient is always in control…So, are you afraid?”

You stared at him before grabbing your things and getting up. “I won’t deal with this. We either do this my way or I’m leaving.” 

“Would you accept something like that from me? Or him?” he asked smirking.

Tears shot to your eyes and you firmly grabbed your notes. “Fine, I’ll leave.”

His smile faltered a little seeing the tears and he didn’t respond anymore, watching you leave.

…

Going back home that day made you question your planned career. Yes, the asylum was an extreme, especially here in Gotham, but were you really ready to deal with people like Crane on a daily basis? Were you ready to walk such corridors more often and encounter all types of screwed-up people? 

You weren’t looking forward to coming back to work today, knowing Crane would find it amusing that you took a few days off. The soldier would still be where he had been when you left and he wouldn’t stop. You subconsciously pull your sweater even further down, hoping it would hide the parts of your body he loved staring at. You wondered about Crane noticing your discomfort the last time but still questioning it. Did he really not care at all?

The moment you stepped into the asylum you knew he did care. The director met you at the door and filled you in about the events of last night. Apparently, Crane had gotten into a fight with one of the soldiers and you couldn’t help but wonder if it was that soldier. If it had been you somehow felt no compassion for the soldier which scared you a little. Why did that thought give you some sense of safety? Were you even more insane than Crane himself?

Your hopes of avoiding Crane for another day vanished into thin air the moment you heard there was an issue with the electric safety system of his door at the isolation cells. Of course, typically for your luck in life, the assigned electrician was at home because of a heavy flu. You had watched him a few times working at the doors and you had some past knowledge of circuits yourself. Apparently, you had mentioned that in your application because now you were being escorted to Crane’s temporary new cell to fix his door. You felt like the asylum’s personal monkey; just good enough to do whatever others didn’t want to.

And that's how you ended up in this awkward situation of sitting on the floor in front of Crane's cell, trying to fix the door and him continuously watching you. He had a small cut on his cheek; clearly the result of his fight. 

You decided you had had enough of the silence. "Why did you start a fight with a guard? I thought you enjoyed your cell outside the isolation corridor." 

Crane was surprised about you initiating the conversation first this time. Positively though. He smiled and shrugged. "He was...annoying." 

You huffed and rolled your eyes. Of course. "So if someone annoys you, you just punch them in the face?" 

"He said some disrespectful things. That's all. I thought it was only appropriate to teach him some manners." Dr. Crane's mood had worsened within seconds. You wondered what the guard said for Crane to react like this. Sure, he had a threatening aura, but normally he was rather calm. Stiff, almost. Seeing him lash out into a physical fight was something new. 

"Appropriate. Somehow you using this word in combination with a beating actually makes sense. It's you after all." You made a vague gesture with the screwdriver to emphasize your words. 

Crane's face lightened up and he chuckled. "Oh? You know me that well? I had no idea you studied me this throughout." You looked up at him in annoyance. This guy really had no shame, now did he? 

Deciding, it had been enough small talk, for now, you resumed your work. At least you attempted to. You really did. You tried to concentrate on the circuit, you really did but it was incredibly hard when you could practically feel his eyes burning into your skin. Were you simply another pretty thing for him? Or was he actually interested in you?

You put down the screwdriver, a bit too aggressively than necessary, catching yourself fantasizing once more. "Turn around."

"Excuse me?" 

You immediately regretted saying that. How weird must that seem to him right now? "I feel watched. I can't work like this." You groaned in frustration as one of the cables once again slipped from your grip. Him laughing at your request just made it worse. "Prick", you muttered under your breath.

Crane actually heard that and started laughing even more. Something inside of you snapped and you grabbed the screwdriver and threw it through the bars, right at him. You only realized the impact of your action, when he easily caught it and his smirk grew. "What a nice gift from you."

Your throat went dry. Shit. This could easily be used as a weapon. "Give it back.", you demanded in an attempted authoritative tone, though it came out shaky. Fuck.

Crane spun the screwdriver between his fingers and watched you thoughtfully. "Alright." You were surprised but also relieved that he agreed so easily. "Just hold out your hand."

Your heart dropped. Of course, it wouldn't be this easy. As if he had read your mind, he answered by rattling the chain of his hand. You were a bit confused. If you remembered correctly there weren't any cells with non-extendible chains. Maybe it was an extra addition because it was him. "Safety measures since my little...confrontation. I can't get to the door. So you'll have to stretch your hand inside. I'll do the same." Dr. Crane could practically hear the fight you were having with yourself in your head. "Unless...you want me to keep it?"

No. That could end horribly. You took a deep breath and stepped closer to the bars. "Fine." Shaking all over, you reached through the bars.

Crane calmly stretched the screwdriver in your direction. It was right over your hand. Come on. Just give it to me! 

You should have never trusted him. The chains had been extendible from out the wall after all. He had lied to you. He dropped the screwdriver and launched forward, grabbing your wrist, and pulling you in his direction. The pull caused your body to collide with the cell bars, at the same moment, the screwdriver dropped to the floor. Fear spread through you like a wildfire and you felt your heart starting to race.

Your breathing was speeding up as you stared into his unreadable eyes. To test the waters, you gave your hand a little pull but Crane didn't loosen his grip one bit. "Dr. Crane. Let me go,” you spoke as calmly as possible.

His gaze was calm but that made you feel all the more threatened. Where were the guards? How could it be that you two always ended up being alone? Maybe this was your karma. You had wished for some time alone with him - without the stupid, flirtatious guard around - after all.

Crane stood up and walked forwards until he was right before you. The metal of the bars dug into your rips. He was so close that his breath mingled with yours. Crane lifted his hand - you tightly closed your eyes. You expected a punch. A jab. Him forcing you to open the door. Anything. Anything but this.

He very gently wrapped a strand of your hair around his fingers. The air got stuck in your throat. Crane smiled at you with something in his eyes you couldn't quite explain. "I always wondered if it was as soft as it looked."

Something about his smile and his casual demeanor made you really...angry. Maybe because you had just been afraid of him killing you and he does something like this. You gritted your teeth, putting as much rage into your gaze as possible. "Let me go!"

Crane blinked, seemingly knowing exactly what was going on. Another trait that was so infuriating about him. He tilted his head to the side, deep in thought, and hummed. "Why would I hurt you? I told you I'd give you a reason for you to feel safe around me."

"Then how about you don't just grab me and slam me against the door after you told me you'd only give me the screwdriver? Or how about you don't lie? That would make you seem more believable." You practically spat out the last word, staring over at the extendable chain. 

Crane followed your eyes and chuckled. "Fine. You caught me. But...the opportunity was just too tempting. If I would have asked you directly, you wouldn't have let me do it, right?"

"So you just force me into a situation where I can't run? Charming."

Dr. Crane's calm smile faltered when he realized how angry you were. He sighed, thinking about how to calm you down.

You decided to give him the answer by pulling at your hand again and glaring up at him. Crane huffed and rolled his eyes. It was the first time he was displeased in front of you. It made your blood run cold and you started shaking. Have you taken it too far? Would he hurt you now after all?

As always, the former psychiatrist noticed the change in your attitude and decided to gift you a calm smile. Which - in all honesty - just made him seem creepier.

Crane tilted your chin up with one finger, scanning your expression. "You are only angry… not scared at all. That's surprising. Or maybe you're just good at hiding it?"

You decided to use his own words against him. "Why would I be scared? After all...you won't hurt me." You said it with all the confidence you could muster but your voice shook a bit nevertheless. Crane smirked at that and nodded.

"You're right. I did say that." Your confidence faltered and you turned pale once more. What did that mean? That he was lying? You tensed when he got even closer, pulling you against the bars even more by grabbing your chin.

His eyes kept on flickering back and forth between the electric strike and you as if he was unsure whether it was worth forcing you to open the door after all. Unbeknownst to him you were contemplating too. In the end, you decided for it. Not the same thing he had thought about though. Instead of opening the door, you lowered your head quickly and straight up bit into the hand that had been grabbing your chin mere seconds ago.

The sheer surprise caused him to let go of your wrist. Without waiting for a moment more, you pushed yourself off of the bars, bringing several meters between you again. You only stopped when you collided with the bars of the opposite cell.

The look that Jonathan Crane was giving you was terrifying. In the next second, Crane's eyes flickered for a moment and then his threatening smirk dropped. "Y/N. You...should really step away from there."

"If you think I'd come even an inch closer to you, you are so wrong!" you hissed at him, unaware of the danger you were in.

Did he seem even more serious than usual and oddly...worried? No. That couldn't be. What would he be worried about? But he lifted both of his hands calmingly, the thumb of the hand you had bitten a bit bloody. You felt a bit of pride well up inside your chest. There. At least there were some consequences for his actions. He deserved it. It could barely be called a wound anyways. 

"Y/N." Crane swallowed and let out a light chuckle but it seemed stressed. "You don't need to walk over to me. Just...step aside at least."

"I'm not doing what you're telling me to do! I've had quite enough of your stupid games! So stop it with your smooth words and your stup-." The words got caught in your throat, by a strong arm wrapping around your throat and slamming you back against the bars.

Oh. Of course. You had been so infuriated by Crane that you had forgotten about the fact that you should stay away from the other cells as well. This was the more isolated and safer corridor for a reason.

Your nail dug into the flesh of the arm, trashing and gagging. This wasn't good. How the hell was the person behind you so strong? To believe you had even the smallest chance was a joke in itself. Your shoe didn't fit through the bars so kicking the inmate wasn't an option either. All you could do was claw at his arm. He didn't budge. Calling out for help turned out to be impossible. You'd need air for that. 

While you kept on searching for options and solutions, your sight got blurred and your throat dry as it tightened. Someone kept on calling your name frantically. Who was that? It was hard to focus on anything, with your lungs clenching painfully like this. They were aching for air, your whole being begging you to just breathe but you couldn't.

Your thought process slowed down. Of course. You could just-. But no. What that would mean for Gotham...how could you ever be so selfish? 

The consequences would be enormous. You pressed your eyes closed, croaking out a weak sound. This could've been your last one. The thought itself was so scary that you changed your mind within seconds. Nevermind. You didn't want to die. You'd rather get locked away for this than die.

You took your last remaining strength and kicked in the direction of the opposite cell. If it was destiny or sheer luck, you didn't know, but the sole of your shoe collided with the electric strike.

The corridor had been overshadowed by your tears and black dots dancing in front of your eyes. In the background, you could hear the loud, aggressive tone of a door opening. A door? Which door again?

You got your answer surprisingly fast when someone screamed in your ear like his whole life had just been turned into a living hell and the arm that had been choking you, let go. Staggering forward, you braced yourself for the impact with the floor. Instead, you fell face-first into the chest of someone else, and strong warm wrapped around you.

You frowned. Who was screaming around like this? It only increased your headache. And what was that shrill sound? Was that the alarm?

Your head was spinning, barely able to comprehend what had happened. At least until you looked over your shoulder. Now, you were able to see the inmate that had attacked you as you slowly regained your senses. He was lying on the floor, nails dug into his head, screaming and crying with wide eyes. You scooted back - or tried to - remembering that someone had caught you. Remembering your kick and the sound of a door, caused goosebumps to spread over your arms. Your heart was pounding like crazy when you slowly lifted your head. Please not him. Please not him. Please not-. 

You slowly turned your head and instantly met a wild blue ocean. It was him. For the first time since you knew him there was fear in his eyes that frantically searched your body. He grabbed your hand and pulled you up, starting to run whilst pulling you after him. There were no bars left between you two anymore.

PART ONE

MASTERLIST, PROMPT LIST, NEWS

Taglist (Please let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the list):

@angel-888x @alexxavicry @expensivechimmy @midgardianminx @washingmachineheart-13 @by7a @sirenshouts @unbeknownnst @kmctvsh

Only The Best For You

Kimi Raikkonen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: dad's best friend!kimi, reader is 20/21 - reader is old enough to make her own decisions, your dad isn't pleased with the gift, one mention of alcohol and one mention of death, sexual tension, kinda power imbalance, kimi gives into the intrusive thoughts, nipple play, fingering for like 0.2 seconds, one use of the word 'daddy' in a sexual way, penetrative sex (p in v), gagging, finger sucking, 'whore' used in a sexual/degrading term.

Word Count: 2,400

Author's Note: for all my dad best friend freaks and the kimi whores, this one's for you <3 -- also ignore that it's gucci in the pic but it's something different in the fic loool I couldn't find a different pic I liked.

merry smutmas series

--

Kimi spends the holidays with his old friends. He doesn’t forget you; bringing you exactly what you had been wishing for and you make sure to thank him.. properly.

An old L/N family tradition.

Since you were a child, your parents and grandparents allowed you to open one gift from them on Christmas eve, letting you enjoy the magic of Christmas a few hours early.

You were grown up now, in college and your grandparents had sadly passed on but your parents kept the tradition going. You had come home for Christmas break and it was Christmas Eve. Your parents have just finished dinner and you have moved to the living room.

It was yourself, your parents and your dad's best friend, Kimi. You had known Kimi your whole life practically but he was always away racing so you never saw much of him until lately, now that he's officially retired - for good this time.

"Shall we open gifts?" Your father asks, walking into the living room. He passed a glass of what looks like whiskey to Kimi, who was next to you, before sitting beside your mother.

She looks over at her husband. "Honey, isn't she too grown for that?"

Your father rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "It's a family tradition, now hush. Go pick a present."

Your mum picks first, picking one from your father that just so happened to be the new perfume she wanted. Your father was next and he picked out one from you. It's a story book he used to read to you as a kid, you had written all of your favourite memories of the two of you inside of it. You made him cry, both you and Kimi laughing about that.

"Go ahead, sweetheart." Your father nods towards the tree, you move from the couch to the floor, kneeling in front of the tree to pick out a gift.

A gift sticks out to you; red wrapping paper with little elves of it and your name written in cursive across the front of it. You pick it up, shaking it a bit to see what was in it.

It felt hard, as if it was a box. You looked towards your parents, "is it from you guys?"

Your dad looks towards your mom; she took care of all of the holiday shopping. The woman shakes her head, "it's not from us, sweetie."

The gift on your lap when you glance over your shoulder at Kimi. He gives you a small smile, so small you almost miss it.

He nods towards the gift, waiting for you to open it. You rip the wrapping paper very carefully, revealing the red box underneath; the gold lettering was cursive - Cartier.

Your jaw was already dropping, looking back at the man. "You didn't," you say and he nods again, waiting for you to open the box to see what was inside.

"Kimi, what did you do?" Your mother asks, looking over at your father. He was never one for brands or jewellery, he didn't realize that buying something there automatically was an expensive purchase.

Lifting the cover carefully, the velvet black fabric inside the box held a white gold chain, blue sapphires set along the entire thing.

If your jaw wasn't already on the floor, it would be now. "Kimi!" You turned to face the man, setting the box on the couch carefully. "You did not!"

"I did," he nods. He's always been a man of very few words; more of an action rather than words type of guy.

"What is it?" Your father asks and you hand the red box over to him for him to see.

He shows your mother as he holds the box, he doesn't realize that he's holding a little over €40,000 in his hands at the moment. "Oh Kimi, it's beautiful." Your mother gushes, handing it back over to you.

You were still on the floor, admiring the necklace in the box. "Well, turn around." Kimi says and you do, sitting just between his legs.

He reaches over to take the box from you and carefully takes the chain out of its box before you lift your hair. Kimi leans forwards and you can feel his fingers brush against your skin and his breath on your shoulders when he loops it around your neck and hooks the clasp.

"It looks gorgeous on you, darling." Your mom says, smiling at you.

Your phone's in one hand and your other hand gently touches the chain, straightening it as you admired how it looked on you. "Kimi, this is too much. It's so expensive." You whisper to him and he shrugs.

"How expensive are we talking?" Your father finally speaks, looking over at his friend.

Kimi answers nonchalantly; "Like.. €40,000."

Your father instantly sits up, his jaw hanging open. "What?! Kimi, are you out of your mind?"

"Please," he looks over at his friend in disapproval. His hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb passing over your soft skin. "She's a good girl, she deserves it."

You can't help but shift a bit when he calls you a good girl, the words hitting you right where you shouldn't. It was wrong, he was your father's friend and you were.. well, you were attracted to him. You couldn't deny it; Kimi was an attractive man and despite his lack of words, he was very charming.

"Y/n, say thank you. You can't not say it when he's spent so much." Your father tells you, and you turn around to face Kimi.

"Thank you, Kimi," you smiled at him, sitting on your knees when you reached up to give the man a hug. His arms wrapped around you, his warm hand pressed to your back. "You're welcome, angel."

Another nickname that hits you in all the wrong places.

--

As the night goes on, your parents head up for bed as do you. Kimi was the last one to bed from your understanding and as the house grew quiet, you tossed and turned, unable to sleep.

You find yourself sat on your bed, pjs on - a tank top and a pair of shorts with a €40,000 chain around your neck.

It was nearing 3am, the witching hours as your mum says. You find yourself getting up and heading downstairs. The initial thought was to go to the kitchen and get a glass of water but you got side tracked when you see a light coming from Kimi's room.

You knock, peeking around the space left between the door frame and the actual door. "Come in," he waves to you and you step in, shutting the doors behind you. The TV was on, a rerun of some show you couldn't quite place was on.

"What are you doing up?" He asks, glancing at his phone to check the time. "Do you know how late it is?"

"I couldn't sleep," you tell him, looking over at the TV. "Can I join you?"

He shrugs, nodding towards the empty space next to him. You quietly make your way over, sitting next to him on the bed. Kimi don't miss the way your shorts hike up when you crawl over to the empty spot; it's so wrong for him to be looking at you like that but can you blame the man? You were gorgeous and you were in his bed after all.

The two of you sit quietly, watching as the show rolls on into another episode. You unconsciously play with the chain, shifting it back and forth slowly.

Kimi looks over at you, smiling to himself; you were the picture of beauty.

"You're staring," you mumble, glancing at him. He smiles, like actually smiles. "You're beautiful."

Your cheeks are red, you hope that the light coming from the tv isn't bright enough for him to realize that just yet.

"It looks good on you," he says, "like it was made for you."

"Blue has always been my favourite colour." You smiled, glancing down at the chain. "Did you pick it yourself?"

He nods, "I saw it and thought of you, I figured you'd like it."

"I do, very much." You look over at him, Kimi smiles at you and your hand shifts from your thigh to his, rubbing along it softly. Kimi's brows furrow ever so slightly. He doesn't say anything, hoping that you'd stop if he ignores it.

You were persistent.

Your hand travels higher, about to rub over the ever so evident bulge in his shorts but Kimi catches your hand, holding your wrist. "We can't, y/n."

"Why not?"

"It's wrong," he whispers, glancing at the door - you weren't sure if he wanted you to leave or if he was catching to see if it was locked. You wiggle your hand from his grasp, Kimi lets out a small breath of relief; see, the man was stupid enough to think you were stopping.

You didn't stop. Instead, you got on his lap, straddling him with your hands on his shoulders. Kimi's hand rests on your lower back as he looks at you.

"Let me thank you properly," you whisper, lips ghosting over his.

Kimi reaches up, his lips pressed to yours but he's yet to kiss you. "You don't have too."

"I want to.. I want you," you mumbled, finally kissing the man. Your hand cupping his jaw, Kimi's hand slips under the tank top you had on and slides up your back to undo your bra but finds you don't have one on.

Kimi pushes the straps of your tank top down off your shoulders. You sat comfortably on his lap, letting him have his way with you and the man wanted one thing. He leans forward, arms wrapped around you as his lips wrap around your nipple.

“Kimi, fuck- please.” You mumble, your hand tangled in his blonde hair, tugging on it. As such as you loved the attention, you needed him.

He glances up at you, watching as your eyes fluttered shut. He groans when you pull on his hair a little harder but what's a little pain when he's making you feel good?

It was heavy, heated.

His hands on your body, pulling you over and onto him. You were perched on his lap, Kimi's hands on your ass when he kissed you again.

Not a word is spoken between the two of you and what little clothes you had on was gathered in a pile on the floor when he rolls you two over. You were flat on your back with Kimi settled between your legs.

“Please,” your hand rested on his jaw, “daddy, please.”

The pet name makes his cock twitch; it's sinful, so sinful in so many ways but he couldn't care less. You drove him mad.

His hand slips between the two of you, his fingers rubbing slow circles on your clit. Your hips lift, wanting more from him.

Kimi’s hand wandered a little lower, a finger pushed in slowly. He can feel how wet you are, wrapped around his finger and he smiles.

He moves his finger slowly, curling it. He takes pleasure in watching you, seeing how your face twists and how your body reacts to his touch.

"Please," you whimpered, "don't make me wait."

Kimi can't bring himself to say no to you.

He sits, pushing his shorts down and you get the hint, getting on top of him. Your hands grip on his shoulders, balancing yourself. Your knees on either side of his lap, Kimi's hand reaches under you to help you, the tip of his cock brushing against your clit, making your hip shift forward a bit. His free hand on your hip as you sink down onto him, his name tumbling from your lips.

You take a moment to get used to the feeling, your eyes fluttering shut as he rubs along your lower back, leaning into you to kiss down your neck.

You rock your hips forward and Kimi's head drops back, his eyes now closed. “Fuck, you’re perfect.” His hand pats your hip, “made just for me.” He tells you, your lips now on his neck - a trail of marks and sloppy kisses being left along his neck.

He pulls one of your legs up forward, pulling you down further. “Fuck,” you breathe, his thrusts faster and harder. How you wished you could scream his name right now. Kimi's hand drops between the two of you, rubbing your clit.

Your head falls back, manicured nails digging into his pale skin when he hits the spot he was looking for. He watches as you bounce on his lap, the sapphires around your neck bouncing in rhythm with you. His fingers that were previous on your clit now shoved into your mouth to muffle the sounds tumbling from your lips.

Your brows furrowed, an excited look on your face despite it all. You can feel his cock twitch in you, his lips next to your ear when he leans in.

"You've got to be quiet, angel. Wouldn't want them to catch you being a whore for me, hm?

You mumble something along an okay, your hips bucking, telling him you want more. Your tongue laps around his fingers, Kimi watches as you suck on them. There's a wicked smile on his face, his hips lifting to meet you halfway.

He lets you take over, setting the pace and using him for your own pleasure. Kimi leans forward as his lips wrap around your nipple. His tongue lapped over your nipple, biting on it softy; just enough to get you to arch your back, pushing into him.

“Come on darling,” he mumbles against your skin, now kissing up to your collarbone. Kimi's hand behind your neck to pull you down for a kiss. “Want you to cum for me.”

His arms wrap around you when you drop against him, your face buried against his shoulder, biting down to muffle the sounds. “Good girl,” he hums, rubbing your back.

Your heart beats out of your chest as you catch your breath. Kimi smiles, kissing along your shoulder. "Feel good?" He asks and you mumble something, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I take it I should spoil you more often, hm?" He chuckles, making you smile when you sit up. Kimi straightens your necklace, kissing your chin.

You shake your head and smile. "Don't have to spoil me for me to do that."

Kimi smiles at you, giving you a kiss. "Merry Christmas, y/n."

"Merry Christmas, Kimi."

--

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Spell Bound

Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen...I couldn't help myself.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names. An excessive amount of heavy SMUT, unprotected sex (P in V), rough sex, oral (F receiving), multiple cream pies

"I freaking hate witches," Dean mumbled as he picked the lock on the apartment door.

You chuckled softly, very used to hearing him grumble every time you were hunting a witch.

He slowly walked into the apartment and you followed in after him.

"So what exactly are we looking for?" you asked quietly.

"Big scary magic book. Sam said it's probably on or near some kind of altar."

"Big scary magic book," you muttered under your breath. "Makes perfect sense."

You sighed as you walked into the living room and noticed several bookcases lined with large books. "You've gotta be kidding me."

Dean shot you a weary smile. "Guess it might take a little longer than I thought."

"You think?"

You took one side of the room and Dean took the other. Sam had described the look of the book to the both of you, but there was really no way to be 100% certain if you found it.

About 15 minutes into your perusal, you spotted a large leather-bound book tucked under what appeared to be an altar cloth. You slowly removed the cloth, wary of what you might uncover. The book was almost exactly as Sam had described, so you had a feeling it was the right one.

"I think I found it," you said aloud.

At almost the same exact moment, a crash sounded from behind you and Dean let out a string of curses.

You spun around to see the hunter brushing off some sort of florescent pink dust from his face. "What the hell did you do?"

"I was moving some of the books and this box fell out and some powder just kinda...sprayed my face."

"Seriously?"

He looked sheepish. "I didn't even see it."

You sighed. "Great. God only knows what the hell that was."

He looked at the box carefully, but there was nothing written on it to identify the powdery substance he had inhaled. He gave you another sheepish look and shrugged. "Maybe it's not harmful."

You shot him a stony look. "Dean...it's a witch. It's not gonna be fairy dust."

He sighed, knowing you were right. He started shifting his shoulders a bit as if he was uncomfortable.

"Let's get out of here. I'll call Sam on the way back to the motel and see if he has any idea what it could be."

Dean nodded and followed you out the door. By the time you got outside the building and to the car, he was twitching like an addict in need of a fix.

"Dean?" you asked tentatively.

"My skin feels like it's on fire and--and it's like--itchy. And there's a weird feeling inside that I can't describe, but it doesn't feel nice."

"Okay...how 'bout I drive?"

He looked up at you with concerned eyes, but he handed you the keys and got into the passenger seat. You knew he must really be feeling terrible if he was letting you drive Baby.

You started the car up and pulled out of the parking spot while simultaneously calling Sam on your cell. He answered on the third ring.

"Dean got some sort of witchy powder on his face and now he's...itchy?" you said quickly in lieu of a greeting.

Sam sighed. "What are his symptoms?"

You put the phone on speaker. "Dean, what are your symptoms?"

Dean couldn't look at you and when he spoke, his voice was barely above a growl. "I feel like crawling out of my own skin, everything aches, and I'm having a hard time breathing right. Oh and I can literally smell (Y/N)'s skin, which is totally not normal!"

"You can smell my skin?"

He grumbled under his breath. "I can smell your skin and your shampoo and your goddamn body wash, and I want--fuck. What the hell is wrong with me, Sam?"

"Uh, I honestly don't know. Let me call Bobby and see if he has any ideas."

You set the phone down on the seat beside you. "Maybe you're turning into some kind of animal?"

"What?"

"Well, I mean...you can smell me...which is weird and kind of--animalistic."

"I don't think that's it," he said harshly. "My body is aching in a way I can't even begin to describe to you, but I don't think I'm morphing into anything."

You eyed him carefully, worry etched into your face. He was your closest friend and trusted hunting partner, and you hated seeing him like this. Witches scared the shit out of you...you knew what they were capable of.

"Maybe drive a little faster," he hissed.

You pressed harder on the gas and the Impala shot down the road. When your phone rang, you answered it immediately.

"So I think I might know what it is, but I have something I need to ask Dean first," Sam said.

"Okay." You looked at Dean. "Can you hold the phone? Sam wants to ask you something."

Dean took the phone from your hand, hissing as his skin made contact with yours. "What?" he grumbled.

"This is gonna be awkward, but I need to know, okay? Do you feel--umm--aroused at all?"

Dean was silent for a moment as he let his brother's question sink in. Ohhh fuuuuck, he thought to himself. He glanced down at his jeans and noticed the bulge straining against them. With the intense pain he was experiencing, he hadn't really noticed. "Son of a bitch," he mumbled. "Yeah."

"Okay, well the good news is, I know what it is. It's called sex pollen."

"It's called what?"

"Sex pollen. The name doesn't really matter, but you have all the symptoms. They're only going to get worse until--well until you die."

"Die? Is there a cure?"

You looked over at Dean in terror, your foot pressing down even further on the pedal. Dean's hand was shaking slightly as he put the phone on speaker so you could hear.

"You have to--uhh--well--shit. You have to umm...fuck it out."

"I have to what?"

"Dude, I know, okay? But you don't have a choice. If you don't you'll die a rather painful death."

"Son of a bitch," Dean said again. "Can I, umm, take care of it myself?"

"According to what Bobby read, the only option is actual intercourse with another person."

"How long do I have?"

You were acutely aware of Dean's close proximity to you, and now you understood the nature of his pain. Your own breathing was more labored, but you desperately tried to maintain control of yourself. Don't make it weird, (Y/N), you thought to yourself.

"30 minutes from the time of contact until...until death," Sam answered.

"30 minutes?" you gasped. You started doing the math in your head as Dean continued talking to his brother. "We have maybe 10 more minutes until we get back to the motel and that leaves about 10 until..."

Dean looked over at you, his normally green eyes dark with need. "I'm so fucked," he muttered.

"That doesn't really leave us time to find someone for you to--you know," you said worriedly.

"Shit."

"Might wanna make it fast," Sam said.

"Obviously," Dean snapped. "How long will it take to...get out of my system?"

"That depends," Sam began. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

"Another story?"

"It could take a lot longer."

"Great," you mumbled.

"Sam, don't be there when we get there," Dean growled at his brother before hanging up the phone.

"Dean?" you questioned softly.

"Just drive, (Y/N)."

You continued driving, but your focus was most definitely not on the road. You could hear the heavy breathing and the soft pained sounds coming from the man beside you and it made it nearly impossible to concentrate on anything else. It certainly didn't help that you had wanted him for years and seeing him like this was making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't be feeling.

Dean flirted with you regularly, but he flirted with almost every person he came into contact with. It's just a part of his personality, so you never read into it. While Dean quite obviously adored you (and you him), you were not his type. You were a good fighter, sure, but where you really excelled was research. You were brilliant--almost as knowledgable as Bobby, though you still had plenty to learn. You were also significantly more--voluptuous than the women Dean gravitated to. Soft, chubby, more to love--whatever you wanna call it. As such, you'd never made any sort of move to announce your feelings for him. You didn't want to face his rejection.

"Sweetheart, if you don't speed up, I'm liable to die before we make it there," Dean hissed.

You shot him a look. "We're less than two minutes away, so don't die on me yet, Winchester."

He exhaled sharply and nodded. "I'm not gonna make it either way, (Y/N). Like you said, we don't have enough time to find a, uh--partner."

You took a deep breath. "I can't let you die."

He looked over at you and you felt his gaze boring right into your soul. "I can't do that to you."

"I really don't see how we have much of a choice here."

You pulled into the motel parking lot before he could respond.

"Let's go," you said quickly as you got out of the car and made your way to your room.

Dean was right behind you, so close you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. As soon as the door was unlocked, Dean was pushing you through it and locking it behind you.

"Shit," he muttered. "I don't wanna hurt you."

"It's okay, Dean," you said softly. "I'm not afraid."

His eyes widened and he grabbed your chin. "You should be...I'm going to lose control."

"It's alright...use me."

He let out a low growl and squeezed your chin tighter. "I--I won't be able to make this good for you."

You pressed yourself against his body, feeling the hard ridges against you. "It's not about me. You need this."

That was all it took for Dean to let go. His lips attacked yours with a hunger you were not expecting despite the intensity of the situation. He was not at all gentle as he tore your clothes from your body, ripping his own off with equal force.

He tossed you down on the bed with shocking ease. He had absolutely no difficulty manhandling you. You weren't sure if it was the sex pollen or just him.

His lips and hands were everywhere, touching every inch of your soft skin he could possibly reach. He needed to be inside of you so badly it was almost impossible to breathe. His skin burned with each touch and his instincts screamed at him to just break you.

He moves his way down your body and you're surprised as he stops just above your core. "Dean, what are you doing?" You knew he needed a release--and soon--or he wasn't gonna make it.

A voice in the back of his mind kept reminding him this was (Y/N), his (Y/N). Even in his current state, he wanted to avoid hurting you if he could. "Need to get you ready," he grunted.

The words were barely out of his mouth before he was devouring your pussy. The sounds he made were incredible, the feeling almost electrifying. He slid two fingers in and moved them in a scissoring motion to help loosen you up.

He was only down there for a 30 seconds before he came up and locked eyes with you. "I can't hold off anymore."

You nodded. "Just let go. I'll be okay."

He knew the moment he slid inside you, he'd be a goner. Whatever tiny amount of self control he'd managed to hang onto would disappear in an instant. But he could also feel the roaring agony inside him and he needed to feed it before it devoured him.

"I'm sorry," he whispered against your ear a split second before he sheathed himself fully inside you.

You cried out--pain mixing with pleasure as his large member stretched you in ways you'd never before experienced.

Dean couldn't give you time to adjust--he was too far gone. His hips began to move and his sole focus was on his own pleasure--his own release.

His thrusts were powerful and fast, so much so that your body started to scoot farther up the bed. He grabbed your hips and held you in place, pace never faltering. The sensations were almost painful given his size, but you wouldn't have stopped him even if you could have.

"Fuck, baby--you feel so good," he grunted.

You were more than a little surprised when he spoke--you hadn't pegged him as a dirty talker. Then again, it could very well have been the pollen. The same could be said of the sounds coming from his mouth. You'd never heard such sinful noises and you loved them.

"So tight--squeezing me so good. Feels like heaven."

You squeezed his cock purposefully, making him groan each time you clenched down. He needed his release and you were gonna make sure he got it. Your own enjoyment was far from your mind--this was essentially a transaction--a lifesaving measure. You had to view it that way to protect your heart...at least that's what you told yourself.

"Baby," he moaned. "Imma fill you up--so close."

Despite the voice in your head telling you this wasn't real--that you shouldn't have any emotional attachments--you reached up and touched his face, caressing it lovingly. "Cum for me, Dean," you whispered.

His eyes locked on yours and he bit his lip--hearing you say his name in the heat of the moment was a bigger turn on than he'd ever imagined. It pushed him right over the edge and he spilled inside of you with a grunt.

You lay beneath him, panting despite the minimal exertion on your part. He'd had his orgasm, but he was still moving, much to your surprise. "You're not done--?"

He shook his head. "Need more."

He pulled out and quickly flipped you over with no warning. You instinctively lifted your hips to allow him access, which he took without hesitation. His cock was still throbbing and the need still burned in his veins. His mind remained singularly focused on his relief--his pleasure.

He slammed into your pussy and set a brutal pace, earning a cry of pain from your lips. This new angle allowed him better access, sending his cock deeper inside of you. His head brushed against your cervix with each thrust, a stinging pain accompanying the pleasure.

Dean's large palm came down on your ass with a hard smack, eliciting a gasp of surprise from your lips. Your pussy clamped down on his cock as he landed another slap to your round cheek.

"Fuck baby, you like that don't you?" Smack. "You like it when I slap this sexy ass?" Smack. "Fuck--squeezing me so tight, sweetheart." Smack.

He was right though, you loved it. You always had, but there was something extra enjoyable about having your ass smacked by Dean Fucking Winchester. Even if you couldn't verbally express your pleasure to him, your pussy made it well-known.

Dean's right hand gripped your hips tightly, pulling you flush against him as he continued pumping. His left hand trailed up your back until he grabbed a fist full of hair at the base of your neck and pulled. Your head snapped back and you cried out, but you didn't fight him.

"Do you know how badly I've wanted to pull this hair, pretty girl? Fuck--I think about it all the time." His pace was relentless and his hand remained entangled in your hair.

You'd never really noticed him looking at your hair in any particular way, so you assumed once again the pollen was making him say such dirty little things.

After several more thrusts, Dean let go of your hair and pushed down on your upper back, forcing you to press your upper body into the mattress. Dean gripped your hips with both of his hands and slammed into you with an intensity that was unmatched by any of his previous actions.

You had a feeling he was close to another orgasm, at least if his grunts and curses were anything to go by. You clenched down around him again, intent on pushing him past the brink.

It worked like a charm. Dean came with a cry of your name, thrusts continuing as he emptied inside of you once again.

You were exhausted and you hadn't had a single orgasm. Part of you really hoped Dean had gotten it all out of his system, but another part of you didn't want this to end. Even if it wasn't real--even if he didn't actually want to be having sex with you, you liked pretending, if only for a little while.

Dean pulled out of you slowly and rolled you over with a surprising gentleness. You assumed that meant he was satiated and the pollen was out of his system.

When you met his eyes, you were surprised by how brilliantly green they were. You'd almost gotten used to the dark forest color that had taken over as a result of the pollen. He was looking at you with an odd expression you couldn't quite place, but for some reason it made you want to scurry away and hide.

"Better?" you whispered.

He cocked his head to the side and a small smirk played on his lips. "Not even close," he murmured.

His lips met yours in a fiery kiss before you had time to respond. Unlike the previous kisses, this one was more passionate, more intense. It made your body tingle all over and a warmth spread through your veins.

Dean's brain fog had finally cleared enough that he could actually slow down and focus on what was happening--on what he was doing, or rather who. He hated that he'd cum twice without even thinking about you, let alone making you orgasm. Dean prided himself on being an excellent lover and he wasn't about to let you leave this bed unsatisfied.

His cock brushed against your pussy as he shifted to hold you closer. You both inhaled sharply, enjoying the sensation. Dean's lips began to travel down your neck, leaving soft, wet kisses in his wake. He nipped at your pulse point, earning an excited moan from you. He liked hearing that sound, so he sucked on that spot until you were panting heavily beneath him.

His hands traveled over your soft curves, touching and squeezing all the parts of your body you were self-conscious about. Dean didn't seem to give a damn that your stomach wasn't flat, that your hips weren't narrow and your thighs weren't skinny--in fact, he seemed to be reveling in the feeling of softness.

His lips were so gentle as he continued his downward movements. He kissed and licked and sucked on each of your breasts, spending several minutes focusing on each one. "You have such perfect breasts," he murmured.

You were too surprised, and perhaps too lost in pleasure, to formulate any kind of response to his words. Luckily, he didn't seem to need one, and he refocused his attention on you.

Once he was satisfied your breasts had received enough love, he continued moving down your stomach, stopping to place soft kisses to every mark and scar he saw.

When he reached your sweet pussy, he spread your legs as wide as he could and settled down between them. You were surprised at his actions, especially since you knew he was still hard--that he still needed another release.

Dean was now singularly focused on one thing--and that was you. Now that his damn brain was working properly, he wanted to make sure you enjoyed this--even if it was a one time thing because you didn't want him to die, he wasn't about to walk away from this without making you scream his name at least once.

He breathed in deeply, smelling your arousal mixed with his own spend, and he smirked. His eyes flicked up to yours and his mouth latched onto your clit, unleashing an overwhelming assault on your swollen mound.

You gasped as the sudden pleasure washed over you. You couldn't take your eyes off the man between your legs--nor did he take his eyes off you. Every time your hips bucked or you tried to move, his strong arms held you in place so he could continue to watch you.

You were writhing against the sheets in what felt like seconds--it was probably longer, but either way you felt embarrassed at how quickly you fell apart under his touch. Your orgasm tore through you like a hurricane, broken moans dripping from your lips.

To your shock, and perhaps concern, Dean didn't stop his assault on your pussy. Even as you tried to squirm away, he held you in place, desperate to give you another orgasm. You whimpered that it was too much, begged him to give you a break, but all of those words quickly morphed into pleas to keep going--don't stop.

"Dean," you gasped as your fingers slipped into his hair, grabbing hold of the short locks by the roots. Your nails scrapped lightly against his scalp and he let out a soft groan.

His tongue seemed to dance across your clit, creating beautiful designs and languages only he seemed to know. He paid attention to what motions made you quiver, which ones made you moan, and which ones had you tugging on his hair with an iron grip.

"Dean, please--I--so close," you moaned.

He smiled, enjoying the immense pleasure he was giving you just as much as you seemed to enjoy it. A few moments later, you were once again coming apart against his mouth and he eagerly lapped up everything you had to give him.

This time as you tugged on his hair and squirmed away, he obliged, lifting himself up from between your thighs. He licked his lips as he looked down at your blissed out face.

"You taste like heaven, baby," he murmured. "Wanna taste?"

Your pretty (y/e/c) eyes widened and you nodded hesitantly. He smiled wolfishly as he leaned down to kiss you, tongue invading your mouth almost instantly, allowing you to taste yourself.

You moaned into the kiss and he held you even more tightly, lips sealed to yours like he needed your air to breathe.

He wasn't entirely sure how he'd managed to control his urges long enough to coax two orgasms from you, but he could feel that control waning. "I need you, baby," he whispered against your lips. "I need you so badly."

You looked up at him, a small smile playing on your lips. You lifted your hips to brush against his cock and he groaned at the contact. You nipped at his jaw and pulled him back down to you. "Fuck me, Dean. Please."

He groaned. "Yes ma'am."

He didn't hesitate as he gripped his cock firmly and lined it up with your entrance. He slipped inside easily, having plenty of lubrication to assist him. Despite having been inside of you multiple times at this point, he was still taken aback by how fucking incredible you felt.

"God, I love this pussy," he murmured. "She was made for me."

You moaned softly at his words and the feeling of him inside you once again. As he started to move, he was much more gentle and you found yourself enjoying the sensations--perhaps more than you should.

"You're so good for me, (Y/N)," Dean mumbled, already lost in the feeling of you.

You would have given anything to hear him say that, but the words broke your heart a little. Had he had any other choice, he likely wouldn't be here right now--you wouldn't be the one he was fucking.

"Hey," he whispered, a rough, calloused hand running along your cheek as he looked at you. "Where's that pretty little head at?"

You smiled at him. "Right here, Dean."

Somewhere inside of him, he knew you were lying, but the damn pollen was still affecting his senses. He accepted your response and went back to his actions, focusing on the feeling of your pussy wrapped around his cock like a vise.

He wanted to feel you cum one more time...wanted to feel the way you'd squeeze his cock as you came. He wanted to watch you come undone beneath him, lost in pleasure he gave you.

He grabbed a pillow and gently lifted your hips, sliding the pillow under them. This provided him a new, improved angle, allowing him to cage you beneath him and hit that sweet spot inside you.

"Dean!" you gasped as the first thrust hit your g-spot.

He grinned and picked up his pace, slamming into it repeatedly. Each thrust sent you closer to the edge of an orgasm you knew would ruin you. Dean Winchester already made you feel things no other man ever had and his ability in bed was no exception. Damn him.

His thrusts were firm and measured, each one sending wave after wave of pleasure crashing through your body. The familiar tightening in your gut was so intense you thought you might actually explode.

Dean's strong arms were on either side of your head and he was looking down at you with that same strange expression from earlier. "You're so damn beautiful, baby. I wanna watch this pretty face as you cum for me."

You gasped, unprepared for the way his words made you feel. You felt emboldened, so you asked for what you needed. "I need more, Dean."

His hand slipped between your bodies, a single finger gently massaging your clit as he continued to fuck you. "That better, baby?"

You nodded rapidly, earning a soft chuckle from his sweet lips.

"You gonna cum for me beautiful?"

You nodded again.

"Yeah? I want you to keep those pretty eyes open when you cum, okay? Wanna see you fall apart."

"Dean..." you whispered.

"I know, sweet girl. I've got you."

Your brain seemed to short-circuit in that moment. All you could feel was a blinding hot pressure immediately followed by an intense euphoria. You heard someone scream "Dean!" and you belatedly realized it had been your voice.

The intensity of your orgasm sent Dean spiraling over the edge of his own. He hadn't even been prepared for it--the mixture of you screaming his name and the sensations of you squeezing him so tightly and the gorgeous way your face contorted as you came was all he needed.

He emptied into you a third and final time, his cock finally beginning to soften as he helped you ride out your high.

He pulled out and flopped down beside you on the bed, his body aching from what had to be some of the best sex of his life--sex pollen or not.

You were just as sore as Dean--probably more so given you literally couldn't move. The two of you laid there in silence, slowly coming down from the electrical highs you'd experienced, both trying to catch your breath for the first time in what felt like hours.

Dean was the first to recover. "Did I hurt you?" he asked so softly you almost didn't hear him.

You turned your head to look at him and your heart clenched at the expression on his face. He was genuinely worried, brows furrowed in concern. You contemplated lying to him, but you knew he'd see right through you.

"A little," you said honestly.

He winced and his beautiful eyes closed. "I'm so sorry, (Y/N)--I would never hurt you on purpose--ever."

You offered him a small smile he couldn't see, until your hand touched his cheek and he opened his eyes again. "I know."

There were a thousand other things you wanted to say--a thousand words you wanted to string together into just the right sentences, but you couldn't. You wouldn't put yourself through it.

"Shower?" he asked softly.

"I honestly don't think I can stand."

A smirk played on his lips. "That should not make me feel so damn good."

You laughed lightly, glad to hear the teasing tone in his voice that you loved so much.

He managed to pull himself into a sitting position. "It's not ideal, but there is a bathtub..." he trailed off.

"I wouldn't mind a bath," you admitted.

He nodded and got to his feet. He was a little unsteady at first, but managed to make his way to the bathroom. You heard the water running as he filled up the tub.

You laid there thinking about everything that had just happened. This was a position you'd never imagined you'd be in--with anyone, let alone Dean Winchester.

You knew this wasn't something you were going to be able to forget about, but you hoped things would go back to normal between the two of you and eventually this would just be a funny story.

Suddenly, Sam's words from earlier snapped into your mind. "If it's meaningless, one and done. If it's someone you care about...that's another story."

One and done...one and done. This most definitely had not been a 'one and done' scenario. But didn't that mean...? No. No way. Impossible. Dean Winchester does NOT have feelings for you.

You began to rationalize your thought process. Maybe "care about" included a friendly relationship. Yeah...yeah that made the most sense. Of course Dean cares about you. You're his best friend. There couldn't possibly be anything more to it...right?

As if on cue, Dean stepped back into the room. "Bath's ready."

"Okay." You tried to pull yourself up, but you immediately fell back against the mattress, body too worn out to sustain any kind of movement.

Dean chuckled lightly and came up to the side of the bed. He pulled the pillow out from under your hips and slipped his arms under your body, hoisting you up bridal style.

"Jesus!" you yelled. "Put me down! I'm too heavy--you'll throw out your back."

Dean laughed. "Calm down, (Y/N). I just threw you around this bed repeatedly with zero issues. I promise I can carry you to the bathroom without dying."

"But--"

He glared at you and tightened his grip on you as if to prove his point. "Ain't a damn thing wrong with your body, so shut it."

Your mouth closed immediately. His words sent a jolt directly to your core and you were almost annoyed by it. As if three orgasms wasn't enough...

Dean very gently set you on your feet in the bathroom and slowly helped you into the tub. As soon as he got you into a seated position, he got into the tub as well, slipping in behind you.

"Umm...whatcha doing?"

"Taking a bath."

"Isn't the tub a bit small for both of us?"

You could feel him shrug behind you. "I think it's perfect size. Now come here." He grabbed your shoulders and gently pulled you back so you were laying against his chest. "That's better," he muttered.

Your mind began to race once again as you laid there, body tense and uncomfortable.

"Okay, (Y/N), I know you better than anyone, so don't you dare lie to me. Where's your head at?"

"I--" you sighed. "I'm not really sure how to feel."

He nodded. "I know you didn't want this--I feel like I had to literally force myself onto you and I hate that. I know you only agreed so I wouldn't die, but--"

"Woah--stop." You sat up and turned your head to face him. "That's not true at all. You didn't force me to do anything."

"Okay, maybe 'force' is the wrong word...but you did have sex with me to save my life. Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"

"I'm painfully aware," you muttered.

He ran his hand over his face. "I'm not saying any of this right."

"Then what are you trying to say?"

He bit his lip. "Remember what Sammy said? About...how long the effects would last?"

You nodded.

"Well in case you didn't notice, I had three orgasms."

"Both me and my very sore vagina noticed," you said lightly.

He sighed. "Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you, (Y/N)?"

You turned a little more so you could see his face better. He had that same look he'd had when he was making you feel incredible. "I need to hear you say it..." you whispered.

He nodded and leaned forward so his face was mere inches from yours. "He didn't mean 'care' as in 'we're friends, so I care about you'...he meant 'care' as in 'love'."

Your lips parted and you inhaled sharply.

"So you see, I don't just care about you as a friend...and I don't just love you as a friend...I'm in love with you."

"You--you love me?"

"In love," he repeated. "For as long as I can remember."

"You're in love--with me?"

He chuckled softly. "Who else would I be talking to, baby? Yes, I'm in love with you."

"I--I don't know--" you stuttered.

"The only thing you need to know is how you feel. Do you know how you feel about me, (Y/N)?" he whispered.

You nodded slowly.

"And?"

"I'm in love with you too."

He grinned widely. "Yeah?"

You nodded, cheeks turning red.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him. He looked down at you with that expression he'd been wearing and you suddenly realized what it was...it was love--real, true, beautiful, heart aching love.

He leaned down and placed a soft kiss to your lips, which you returned in kind. He held you tightly, loving the feeling of your body in his arms.

"We better get cleaned up before this water gets cold," he said softly, lips pressing to your hair.

"Mhmm," you hummed.

He chuckled. "Don't you dare fall asleep on me, babe."

"But I'm comfortable," you whined.

He smiled against your cheek. "Give me five minutes to clean you up and then we can sleep, okay?"

You looked over at him and smiled. "Deal."

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nina cried power ; frenchie.

track one of WASTELAND, BABY!

pairing ; frenchie x gn!reader

synopsis ; he calls you a plethora of endearing french nicknames, but you call him an asshole.

words ; 1.9k

themes ; angst, fluff, mild action

warnings / includes ; profanity, kissing, blood and injuries, near death experiences and emotional constipation <3 a bunch of french pet names, frenchie is lovesick, reader is part of the boys gang, the rest of the members are mentioned, hughie and reader are also mentioned to be close friends

main masterlist.

The rag between your teeth tasted disgusting. Sweat and grime and flecks of blood stained the once-white fabric—which had come from Frenchie’s own shirt he tore to shreds to bind your wounds. You bit down harder, tongue retracting further down your throat in hazy revulsion, groaning in pain when you felt his hands all over your abdomen, doused with your dark ichor, his expression heavy-set with frantic concern.

“Hold still, mon amour,” he said, brows drawing together when you ignored him completely, roaring obscenities behind the fabric and thrashed even harder. What a fucking asshole. Memories of the first time you met Frenchie flashed behind your eyelids—he had stuck a gun beneath your jaw with a snarl and the rest was history. A complete one-eighty to his expression now. “HUGHIE, HOLD THEM DOWN!” he screamed, completely strung-up.

Faintly, you registered another pair of hands pinning you to the cold tiles of the floor, and your friend’s stuttering melded into the cavernous cacophony ringing in your ears. It felt as if a fire was eating you alive, trying to crawl its way from inside out. Your skin was hot, nearly scalding to the touch.

You still couldn’t really remember what happened. 

Supes… there were supes there. One moment you were helping M.M. reload his gun, and the next, half a dozen quills were sticking out of your abdomen, dripping with strange green liquid you’d come to learn was venom. You were going to die, weren’t you?

Frenchie had screamed your name—you couldn’t remember the last time he called you that. See, he always referred to you with endearing french nicknames that you really didn’t care for (lies, you were quite fond of his silly little pet names). You, however, called him an asshole. Sometimes affectionate, and most of the time, you really meant it.

But not this time.

Instead, you glanced at him with mild confusion, before looking down at your stomach, then back up at him. “Frenchie…?” you asked quietly, before collapsing to the ground.

The car ride back to base was painful. Butcher drove like a madman, and Hughie was sweating bullets in the passenger seat, constantly glancing back at you writhing in the backseats. Frenchie had situated you so your head was in his lap as he crooned reassurances that you couldn’t even hear.

God, everything was so dark. So loud. You wanted to claw at Frenchie’s arms and tell him that you hated him. Or that you loved him. Either would work. Damn it, the venom was messing with your mind. 

And that’s how you ended up with Frenchie’s shirt shoved between your teeth as you screamed bloody murder, calling him a bastard as he dug his fingers into the sloppy mess that was your stomach, muttering apologies over and over and over again.

“STOP!” you wailed, kicking at his knee when the agony tore you apart, tears streaking lines through the dirt on your cheeks. “You fuck—fucking asshole!”

He didn’t stop. 

If he did, you’d die. You weren’t a Supe, no matter how tough you presented yourself to be. Ironically enough, your utility belt clipped around your waist was shoved lower so he could work on your wounds, various sharp blades pressing dangerously against your back.

You had passed out from the pain at one point, going limp in his hold, which sent him into another frenzy. He snapped at Butcher with a fiery rage he’d never shown him before when the man offered to give you some temp V to speed up your healing. 

It took hours until he was done. You’d lost a lot of blood, but he managed to staunch it enough—it was messy, but it’d do. The red slick still left a part-sticky, part-dried residue over the skin of his hands, but he didn’t bother to wash it off. He refused to leave your side. So there he sat, shirtless and filthy, pressing kisses to the side of your sweaty head. It wasn’t often that he cried, but he cried for you. He didn’t even care that M.M. and Kimiko were sending him concerned glances. 

He just wanted you to be alright.

It was reassuring to see your chest rise and fall rhythmically. “Come back to me, mon chou. Come back.”

You woke up with a start. The first thing you registered was the thirst. Your throat was barren of any moisture, so you croaked out a raspy, garbled noise, barely loud enough to alert Frenchie who had passed out with his head propped on your shoulder. 

He sprang upwards, eyes flying wide open and lips parted as he cradled your face. The calluses of his fingers felt rough on your cheeks, and normally you would’ve grumbled at him, tell him to bugger off in true Butcher-like fashion, but all that came out was a quiet rumble of temporary relief.

“Wa… er,” you hacked out, grimacing at the scratchiness of your voice.

“I’ll get you water, ma puce, I’ll be right back,” he rushed to say, chapped lips coming forward to hastily slant over your forehead. “Don’t move.”

You had half the mind to chuckle at that. You couldn’t move even if you wanted to.

He disappeared through the door, and you suddenly felt cold without his presence. A tremor spidered up your spine. The pain in your abdomen was still there, now dulled to a faint throbbing. You realized that your bandages were far cleaner than when you had passed out, face clean and free of dirt.

A queer sort of sadness wrapped its dark palm over your heart. Frenchie took good care of you.

M.M. appeared by the doorway, wearing a mildly guilty expression.

“Hey,” he said, ambling closer. “How you feeling, kiddo?”

You lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug. 

Gingerly rubbing the back of his head, M.M. whistled out a long exhale. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault you’re hurt. And you saved my life. Thank you. Frenchie definitely gave me a mouthful when you were asleep.”

You allowed for a small grin to play at the corner of your lips. 

“He never left your side, you know,” M.M. mumbled. “He really cares about you. Loves you, even.”

After a considerably lengthy silence, you cracked open your mouth to hoarsely whisper out, “He’s an asshole.”

M.M. regarded you with a quirked brow. “And you aren’t? Come on. The two of you are perfect for each other.”

“He doesn’t love me,” you said in a small voice, staring at a particularly interesting spot on the floor. “He loves the idea of me, but not me.”

“What?”

The sound of that French accent by the door made your heart drop down to your stomach. Your eyes shot up to see Frenchie holding a glass of water, staring at you with an expression that so clearly read anguish.

M.M. pursed his lips awkwardly and sent you one last nod before doggedly bowing his head and striding out. Frenchie didn’t acknowledge him, gaze glued on you, shuffling forward and holding out the glass.

You made to take it from him, but he merely tutted, using his free hand to lift your chin and raise the cup to your lips. If you weren’t so desperately impatient, you would’ve protested. Just this one. This one time, you’d let him take care of you.

The water was heaven on your tongue. You gulped down so quickly that you nearly cried with relief, droplets falling from the corner of your mouth and meandering down your jaw. 

“Slowly, slowly, mon trésor,” he crooned, before placing the glass down. There was a tender look to his eye that you misliked. Asshole. “Good?”

“Good,” you croaked. A frown molded over your visage.

“What was that about, mon amour?” he asked, sitting on the mattress. “You think I don’t love you? Why on earth would you think that?”

When you refused to meet his eyes, Frenchie slotted his palm beneath your chin once again, gently running his thumb over your jaw until you reluctantly moved your irises to meet his.

“There you are. Bonjour, mon chou.”

“Hey, asshole.” 

Much to your chagrin, Frenchie threw his head back and laughed. It was a genuine laugh, full-chested and lively. 

“I love you. I love you so fucking much. I don’t know what else to tell you. I don’t know how to get you to believe me.”

You wanted to believe him so badly. Was it because you loved him, too? Or was it because you just wanted any love?

 “Then show me.” The words were soft—so quiet it was near indiscernible. 

Initially, there was a beat of shocked silence. Then, Frenchie didn’t waste any time leaning forward and kissing you gently, enveloping your lips with his own. He cradled your jaw with shaking fingers, nose slotted against yours so that it brushed your cheek when he angled his head to the side. It was so slow, so soft, so very warm that you nearly crumbled into a million pieces under his touch. 

He kissed like it was the last time he’d ever be able to do so. His brows furrowed in concentration, as if this was his one and only chance to show you just how much he adored you. 

When you finally broke away, you had a palm pressed against his bare chest. He knocked his forehead against yours affectionately, a pleased grin playing on his lips.

“Do you believe me now?” he asked. Before even giving you the chance to reply, he swooped back down to kiss you again. “And now?”

“You’re annoying, you know that?” you replied easily, though with a fond smile etched over your mouth. A sudden wave of bashfulness tumbled over you. You tilted your head slightly, averting your gaze once more. “Thank you. For saving my life. I could’ve died if it weren’t for you.”

He waved your sentiment away. “Bah, I didn’t do much. I cried—and I nearly pissed my pants. I was afraid you’d… you…” The words died on his tongue. He didn’t have the heart to finish his sentence.

“I’m okay,” you susurrated, leaning forward so that his nose bumped into yours. “Thanks to you. I owe you one, asshole. I owe you big time.”

“You don’t owe me anything, mon ange. I just need to know that you’re alright,” he whispered, lips only a hair's breadth away from yours—

Before Butcher sauntered in with his stupidly loud voice.

“Honeymoon’s over, you cunts!” he announced with his incredibly thick accent. Frenchie looked as if he was ready to commit homicide, and you could only muffle a snort of amusement, patting his bare shoulders in mock sympathy. The bearded man saluted you with a roguish leer. “Y/N, glad to see you’re back in tip-top shape. Hughie’s been a nervous little bird ever since you went down.” You most definitely weren’t in tip-top shape, but you supplied him with a forced smile that was far too wide to be deemed natural. It was nice to hear that your old friend was worried for you, though. 

Butcher clapped his hands together. "We’ve got some business to attend to."

to leave you behind

a/n: let's not talk about how long its been or the fact this is likely (maybe) the last time i'll write for s&b...

summary: reader takes jurda parem instead of nina and kaz is losing it

To Y/N, they'd all accepted their imminent deaths far too easily. They'd done the impossible, they'd broken into the Ice Court. They were not about to die in a tank, a few hundred metres from the Ferolind and freedom.

She glanced over at Kaz. They'd hardly spoken since he'd fainted in the prison wagon. He'd been avoiding her gaze whenever they'd been together and barely acknowledging her existence.

Y/N was growing tired of it. She loved him, she'd come to accept that truth whilst wafting through the crowds at the Ice Court. Perhaps, deep down, hidden and suppressed, he loved her too.

But she had been waiting for too long. Her heart was aching and her mind was tired of the not knowing, of the constant hatred and love all at once.

Y/N looked from Kaz to the rest of their group. She loved them all in different ways. She trusted them all and knew that she'd gladly die for them all.

Which made the next decision that bit easier.

She turned to Kuwei. He noticed her gaze and looked back at her. Y/N didn't speak. The boys eyes widened.

"You don't understand -"

"I understand, Kuwei," Y/N said softly.

Kuwei reached into his pocket and pulled out the little leather pouch that had begun this whole heist.

"Y/N, what are you -" Kaz trailed off as his eyes fell upon the pouch, its rim stained with a rust-coloured powder.

"You're all out of tricks, Kaz," Y/N said, taking the pouch from Kuwei. She shrugged, a sad smile on her face. "What else is there?"

"No, Y/N, don't be ridiculous," Inej warned.

"Personally I think this is my greatest idea yet," Y/N replied, trying to hide her shaking hands. "Besides, not everyone gets addicted after the first dose."

"You can't risk it, Y/N!" Inej exclaimed.

"No, Y/N, she's right, it's not worth it," Nina said. "I'll do it."

"No," Matthias said, shaking his head furiously.

Y/N laughed tiredly. "I have no one to fight for me, Nina," she said softly, trying not to look at Kaz. "You do."

The voice echoed out from amongst the Fjerdan ranks, counting down, getting ever closer to the end. Y/N took a deep breath in. She mentally counted to three and then turned to look at Kaz.

She was aware of everyone else around them trying not to look. Y/N shifted her weight from right to left, bringing herself closer to Kaz. Their elbow brushed.

Y/N raised her hand and gently placed it against Kaz's cheek. She let her thumb trail over his cheekbone. He flinched, his eyes closing tightly. Y/N swallowed the disappointment.

"I expect ten percent of your cut for this, Kaz," she whispered.

Before anyone could realise what was happening, before Kaz could ground himself back into reality, Y/N tipped the parem into her mouth, forcing herself to swallow it in one stodgy swallow.

Instantly, her blood began to thrum, power surging through it, the fire making it grow hotter. She could hear her heartbeat, pounding away over and over and over again. Her cheeks were burning, sweat was running down the back of her neck.

Her fire was screaming to be released. All it needed was one spark.

No.

It didn't need any spark.

Y/N could feel it at her fingertips. It throbbed.

Her gaze moved across the Fjerdan soldiers. She could feel the gunpowder waiting to be lit. She could hear the pistols being loaded and cocked. She could feel the flicker of the flames dancing off the torches they held.

She tilted her head to the left. She focused her gaze on a bomb filled with gun powder.

Her fingers snapped. The fire shot across the space between them and hit the fuse, burning it up in seconds.

The bomb exploded.

Orange light lit up her face, she could feel the heat burning her skin. It was thrilling.

Everything was burning around her and Y/N could still feel fire burning through her veins, desperate to be released into the night.

Y/N took a deep breath in, letting the cold air burning her nose as she did so. As she exhaled, fire flowed from her fingers, lighting up the sky as it soared across and over the soldiers, sending them all scattering to the sides and into the water.

"Drive," Y/N said softly, looking ahead, staring at the fire as it burnt its way along the ground.

Kaz looked at her, a hint of fear in his eyes.

In the middle of the True Sea, there was no fire. Y/N's desire to burn the whole world to the ground had faded to a dull ache. Instead, it'd been replaced be a reluctant sense of acceptance for what was to come.

She was sat on the main deck of the boat, her legs dangling over the edge. It was quiet out here. Everyone seemed to be avoiding her and, when they did run into her, giving her pitiful looks.

Y/N sighed, tilting her head back, letting the ocean spray hit her skin.

"I'm presuming you can't just burn it out your system."

She didn't even react. "No. I'll be burning myself from the inside out."

Kaz stepped forward and pivoted on his heel so he had his back to the railing. He leant backwards, holding his cane loosely in his hand.

"I won't take anymore," Y/N said quietly.

"I wasn't going to mention it," Kaz replied.

"Then why are you here?" Y/N asked, turning her head so that she was looking at him.

Kaz didn't speak. He didn't acknowledge that Y/N had spoken for a while. Eventually, he looked down at her.

"I wanted to talk before it begun."

Y/N nodded, turning back to look at the water churning as they passed. "I fear you're too late."

Kaz glanced down. Her hand rested on the railings, shaking even as it sat there.

As the sun rose, the aches set in. Everything hurt, from her jaw to her toes. All Y/N could do was lie there, shaking, trying not to cry. Inej sat with her for a few hours, her cold fingers combing through her hair, massaging the back of her neck.

Nina, they had decided, was going to be a last resort. If she absolutely had to, she would lower Y/N's heartbeat enough that she went into a coma, allowing her body to work through the drug without causing her too much pain.

Every candle on the ship had been extinguished. Y/N could feel them burning even if they were the other end of the ship from her.

A few hours later, her skin began to burn. She lay on the bed, wearing the thinnest shirt she could find, unable to tolerate anything else touching her. All the blankets had been thrown to the side and her shirt was soaked in sweat. Y/N kept her eyes shut, trying to fall asleep, trying to pretend that what was happening to her wasn't happening.

When the tremors began, Matthias was sat beside her. In her delirous state she'd vaguely realised that they were all taking turns to sit with her, to watch her.

They're waiting for you to die.

"Do you need me to get Nina?" Matthias asked, gently dabbing her sweat covered forehead with a wet cloth.

Y/N shook her head. "No... not, not yet."

"Do you -"

"No," Y/N said, clutching her hands into fists. "No, I can't fall down into it, I can't Matthias, I can't."

"Okay, okay," Matthias whispered, dipping the cloth back into the water and then placing it back on her forehead.

Y/N didn't remember Matthias leaving. One minute he was next to her, the next he was gone and -

"Kaz?" Y/N whispered, turning her head to look at him.

"Y/N."

He'd undressed to just his shirt sleeves, rolling them up to his elbows. He still had his gloves on and his cane was resting against the wall next to him. But he was there.

"Why... what -"

"We're taking turns," Kaz said, his voice hoarse and quiet. "It was mine."

Y/N smiled but, as she did so, the aches overwhelmed her. Her bones felt like they might burst through her skin and her head was pounding, being squeezed through a vice. Her skin was burning, her face was on fire.

She groaned, arching her back as she tried to escape the pain, to free her sweat covered back from the mattress.

A cold hand landed on her arm, pushing her back onto the bed. Y/N groaned, tears rolling down her cheeks. Her heart was pounding, she could hear it.

"Kaz, I can't - can't do this, I can't -"

"Don't give up," Kaz said, leaning forward. His hands were bare, holding her arm down and combing through her hair. "Don't, promise me."

"I can't, Kaz, I can't," Y/N sobbed. "Please, please just -"

"No, don't you dare," Kaz replied, his voice firm. "You're not dying on my watch, Y/N."

Y/N cried, her back arching again, her nails digging into her palm.

The door opened. Kaz looked over, watching as Nina quietly walked in.

"I could hear her heartbeat getting faster," Nina replied, shutting the door behind her. "I wanted to check..."

Kaz looked back at Y/N. He turned to Nina. "Please, Zenik," he said quietly. "Just do it."

Nina stepped forward and sat on the edge of the bed. She took her wrist and pressed her fingers to her pulse point.

"Kaz," Y/N said, whimpering. "Kaz?"

"I'm here," he said, leaning forward. "I'm here."

"Stay till the end," she whispered, her tremors slowing down, her eyes growing unfocused.

"Y/N -"

"Promise me."

"I promise you," Kaz whispered, hand stroking her hair back from her face. He watched her eyes close as Nina gradually slowed her heart down. Y/N's eyes closed and her grip on Kaz's hand weakened, her body going limp as Nina put her body into a coma.

Kaz held tight to Y/N's hand. "I'm not going anywhere, Y/N."

unravel me — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [2.9k] summary: every day was an adventure with daniel in one way or another and that’s probably why you agreed so easily to wear the godforsaken panties in the first place. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, semi-public sex, edging, reader wears vibrating panties in public. a/n: fic one of smutober and the kink i decided to focus on is orgasm control. i had a lot of fun writing this one so i hope you enjoy it!! x

It had been something that was supposed to be funny, that would make the both of you giggle whenever you thought back on the moment but now, as you sat there clutching the edge of the table until your fingertips turned bleak, you couldn’t find the humour in it at all.

The dinner had been planned two days earlier, with George sending out an innocent text to the entire grid residing in Monaco, that contained a dinner invitation that Daniel was the first to reply to. You had been a little excited, you couldn’t lie. Between different foreign countries and hotel rooms that were all starting to look the same, you found little to no time to get the gang together for a fun night out.

Daniel was always mindful of how much time he spent on anything that wasn’t you, never wanting to leave you feeling left out or like you were a low priority to him because that was so far from the truth. He took you out, wined and dined you like the perfect cheeky gentleman that he was. He’d have the drinks flowing out, flirt with you and even stretch a leg out to play footsie with you until you were giggling and buzzed, warm all over with an undying need for him to get his hands on you.

Three years together and he still found ways to keep things exciting and entertaining. Every day was an adventure with him in one way or the other and that’s probably why you agreed so easily to wear the godforsaken panties in the first place. He’d found them on an obscure website, grinning from ear to ear when the package got delivered and your interest had been piqued at the regular old cardboard box in his hands as he carried it over to you. Your interest sound turned into mild concern when he revealed its contents, the words vibrating panties staring right up at you a little tauntingly.

“No way.” You’d told him when he arched an inquisitive eyebrow that said so much with so little words.

That no had turned into a yes when he wrapped his arms around you and swayed the both of you back and forth, giving you little kisses until you were squirming out of his grasp because you’d spent way too much time on your makeup for him to ruin it with his ass kissing.

He’d giggled with glee when you slipped the panties on, pressing the ones you’d been wearing into his hands with a grumble. It was the same giggle he was holding back now as he sat across from you at the table. His head was turned, nodding along to whatever Lando was saying but you could tell that his mind was somewhere else, focused on the tiny inconspicuous remote he was most likely fiddling with beneath the table.

You contemplated stretching your foot out to hopefully stab his toes with your stiletto, but knew that there was no way you could do it without drawing attention to yourself.

“Are you okay?” Lily’s voice drifted into your ears, interrupting your inner turmoil.

You glanced at her, finding her eyes watching you too closely that it nearly made you sweat. She knew you well enough to read what was showing on your face, so you made an effort to keep your face neutral and your smile unbothered.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Your voice was a little too high and you realised that when her eyebrows jumped, clearing your throat roughly.

The hand that was holding a fork moved and she pointed at it toward your hand. You glanced down, letting out a breathless laugh at the way you’d subconsciously gripped the table cloth in an iron grip. You forced yourself to relax, slowly letting it go.

“I just…” You gave her a quick smile. “I’ve got cramps, shit’s killing me.”

Her face softened in understanding, hands letting go of the cutlery to reach for her purse but you quickly stopped her when you realised what she was trying to do. Any other day and you would’ve taken a moment to really think of how much you loved your friend, but your mind was already fuzzy. Like someone had stuffed your head full of cotton.

“It’s okay, I took something before so it’ll pass.” You quickly assured her and Lily eyed you suspiciously with only a little concern.

“If you say so.” She said slowly.

You only managed to relax when her attention was pulled from you to Alex, silently thanking her boyfriend for unknowingly saving you but your relief was short-lived. Your boyfriend was clearly out to get you, making his presence known by flicking a button on the remote and setting the vibrations off in your underwear.

The sharp spike of unexpected pleasure was so jarring that you barely managed to keep the gasp in, hands digging into your thighs to keep yourself grounded from the incessant buzzing between your legs. You glanced up at your boyfriend, finding him staring straight at you with a poorly concealed grin that you had half a mind to slap from his face. Daniel was looking a little too smug and you quickly regretted the glare you shot him because he was quick to retaliate, upping the vibration.

“Ha!” The sharp gasp that escaped you had both Kika and Lily looking this time, and you felt your entire body grow hot in embarrassment.

Never before had you felt as conflicted between mortification and unyielding pleasure.

“You okay?” Kika asked and you opened your mouth but Lily beat you to it.

“She’s got cramps.” She helpfully explained, sounding sympathetic enough for you to feel a little bad for lying to her.

But you couldn’t tell her the truth, you’d rather have the ground open up beneath you and swallow you while.

The entire ordeal was mortifying and you couldn’t do anything but nod wordlessly, silently sending a thanks to your lucky stars that the rest of your friends were so loud and chattery. You didn’t know what you’d do if you had gotten a few more pairs of eyes on you, especially when those eyes belonged to your boyfriend’s friends and colleagues.

“You need anything? I’ve got both pads and tampons.” Kika whispered and the offer was so sweet you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed with her.

After all, it wasn’t her fault. This was Daniel’s work and you wanted him to pay. Especially when he was looking so smug while your entire being was crumbling in on itself in pleasure and mortification.

“Do you need tampons?” Charlotte’s voice joined your hushed conversation and you internally groaned.

Oh God, you’re going to hell.

“No, I’m fine.” You waved the three of them off, grateful for their thoughtfulness but you didn’t need their attention on you.

You glanced at Daniel, shooting him daggers and that seemed to do the trick because the buzzing slowed down, eventually stopping and you relaxed in your chair. You hadn’t realised how wound up tight you’d gotten, inner thighs slick and panties sodden.

The conversation carried on and you didn’t focus, not really. It was hard to when Daniel was sitting across from you, looking as good as he did. It never ceased to amaze you how amazing he always looked, admiring the way his shirt was unbutton at the top and folded so perfectly that it showed off a sliver of his amazing chest. You wanted to bite that spot, mark up his neck to the point where he couldn’t wear anything with a low collar.

Your mind drifted further away the longer you looked, thinking of how you suddenly wanted to go home. How you weren’t up to staying around for dessert when you were absolutely throbbing.

Brown doe eyes glanced your way and your eyebrow twitched, biting back a sudden shy smile when the Aussie man smiled your way. You hurriedly reached for your glass of water, mouth feeling a little dry and really, you should’ve seen it coming. But you gulped too much water and Daniel’s fingers found the remote, switching it on. You were so unprepared that you promptly inhaled the water, sputtering it right out.

“Fuck.” You groaned as Kika slipped the glass from your hand before it slipped from your grasp, letting you cough until your throat was sore and your nose was burning.

“You alright, babe?” The innocent voice of your boyfriend made you squint up at him, coughing into your fist with a shake of the head.

“Wrong hatch.” You meekly explained, as if it wasn’t obvious.

With your throat cleared and your face wiped from water, you belatedly realised that you’d caught the attention of the whole group. They were all watching with different levels of concern and you shakily waved them off.

“It’s fine, I’m just gonna go to the restroom and freshen up.” You pushed your chair out as gently as possible, standing up cautiously because your legs were rattling like you’d run a marathon.

There was no feeling in them as you walked away, distinctly hearing Daniel’s voice dripping with faux concern as he excused himself. Let me just go check on the missus.

You loved when he called you that, and it secretly made you smile as you weaved between the tables and spotted the sign for the restrooms a few metres away, sighing in relief as you pushed the door open and stepped inside. You were feeling feverish, turned on beyond belief and you knew that there was only one person that could relieve that pressure off of you.

It was expected but it still made you jump when the door opened and a familiar figure filled the vast empty space. He looked a little flushed and a whole lot of handsome, grin on his face getting smothered as quickly as it came when you stumbled forward and caught his lips in a bruising kiss.

He answered eagerly, making a small sound against your mouth as he walked the both of you back into the furthest stall, arms wound around you to keep you from falling. You giggled, out of breath and aching when your back hit the swinging door of the stall, stumbling into each other.

The snip of the lock echoed in the quiet room but you paid it no mind as you tasted the fancy wine on your boyfriend’s tongue, feeling drunk off of it and him simultaneously.

“God, fuck—“ You gasped when he pushed you flush against the side of the stall, allowing you to feel his straining cock against your abdomen. You leaned into it, biting him a little too hard on his lip but Daniel only moaned, kissing you harder. “You’re such a fucking asshole. I hate you.”

“Uh huh.” He didn’t sound the least fazed, hands gripping everywhere they could. Your hips and ass ached as he grabbed them in his hold, prying your mouth open so he could lick into it. “Fucking driving me wild.”

“Likewis—“ Your word was lost in a gasp as the buzzing unexpectedly came to life between your legs, doubling over in a depraved moan that you desperately tried to hide by biting his shoulder.

Daniel snorted and you let go of his arm to slap it weakly, making him turn it up a notch. The guttural moan that came out of your mouth made him absolutely ache in his pants, and he pushed his hips into you; feeling the distinct buzz of your underwear.

“Yeah? Gonna come for me, darling?” He whispered and you nodded, breath hitching with every inhale. “Do it, be a good girl for me.”

You could feel yourself climbing, thighs tensing up in anticipation and you were so lost in the oncoming pleasure that you couldn’t focus on anything else. That’s why the sudden hand pressing to your gaping mouth took you by surprise, the buzzing ceasing and taking your orgasm away with it. You made a sound of devastation, frowning hard as you stared up into the face of your boyfriend. His wide eyes should’ve alarmed you, and it took a second to realise why he suddenly looked nervous.

The sound of footsteps against the tile made you pause, subconsciously holding your breath as you listened to the click clack of heels make their way to what you assumed was the sinks. The tap turned on and you stared into wide brown eyes as the two women started speaking in French, sounding a lot like they were gossiping, having unknowingly walked into something that shouldn't have been happening so publicly.

Daniel’s lips slowly turned into a smile, looking like someone had dropped the best gift right into his lap as he slowly realised that this would add to the fun rather than interrupt it. You could see the gears turning in his head as you stared at each other, jutting your hips out to brush against his hard cock.

He bit back a hiss, pushing harder against your mouth with his palm and watching your eyes flutter.

“Quiet.” He mouthed, his other hand reaching into his pocket and you made a pleading, muffled sound when the panties went off once again.

Daniel stared straight at your face, watching the frown of your eyebrows dissipate as pleasure started melting into your expression, eyes rolling as they closed. Your knees buckled a bit, like you couldn’t keep yourself upright and it was only when your hands gripped his arms that he knew you were well and truly on your way to orgasming.

“Yeah?” He whispered, so low that he might as well have been mouthing the words and you nodded, pants coming out harshly through your nose.

He knew you were becoming a little too loud, but he didn’t care as he watched your head drop back, eyelids fluttering shut as your body locked up beneath him. You came with a muffled wail, gripping his arms so tightly that you surely must’ve bruised them.

The roaring in your ears made it hard to hear, too focused on not getting overstimulated as Daniel gradually dialled down the power, until the buzzing finally stopped. You felt him remove his hand from your mouth, only opening your eyes when he’d pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“Welcome back.” He whispered, looking and sounding way too pleased with himself.

You shook your head with a smile, but it dropped just as fast when you thought of the women outside the stall.

“They’re gone.” He said, like he could read your mind and he probably could. Daniel crooked a strand of hair behind your ear, nuzzling his nose against your cheek lovingly before giving you a kiss. “Your noises made them scurry off.”

“Shut up.” You flushed, pushing him off of you as you stood upright. The shake in your legs made Daniel grin, but you chose to ignore it. “God, we’ve been gone for way too long, haven’t we?”

He made a noncommittal noise that sounded a lot like I don’t fucking care, pushing the door open after unlocking it and gesturing out. You took a step before pausing, narrowing your eyes in distrust before reaching down and slipping the panties down your legs.

Daniel made a sound you couldn’t decipher when you stepped out of them, ignoring how wet they were and balling it up in a grimace.

“I don’t trust you to keep that remote untouched.” You said, biting back a smile when he shot you an offended look.

“I’d never do such a thing.” He said, but the grin on his face said an entirely different thing.

You couldn’t help but smile back, stuffing the underwear into his pocket and walking past him to wash your hands.

“So, what’s gonna be our excuse?” He asked, joining you by the sinks and leaning back against the marble.

You briefly considered feigning food poisoning, thinking that maybe it’d would work and you’d be able to slip away. It’d only been two hours but that meant nothing when it came to your friends, knowing that you all liked to stay that extra hour and pound so many drinks that the majority of you stumbled out of the restaurant.

Daniel handed you a paper towel, your mouth open to answer him belatedly but the door opening made you shut it quickly. The elderly woman that stepped inside halted when she caught sight of your boyfriend, frowning deeply as she looked between him and the sign on the door that clearly indicated that it was the ladies’ room.

You bit back an amused giggle, doing your best to look apologetic as Daniel reached for your hand, apologising with laughter in his voice and pulling you along until you both escaped the confines of the restroom.

The both of you couldn’t stop laughing as you made your way back to the table, slipping into your chairs unnoticed because somehow in your absence, the gang had turned even rowdier.

You watched Daniel settle back in his chair across from you, eyes locking onto yours and you hid a smile as one eyelid dropped in a wink. It made your body heat up all over, feeling like a school girl with a crush as you turned your attention somewhere else.

The snort that came from Lily’s mouth sounded way too amused and you glanced at her.

“What?”

“You two are as subtle as a brick through a window.”

You elbowed her. “Shut up.”

Lily hid a laugh behind her hand. “No, no. It’s sweet in a completely gross way.”

You glanced at Daniel, smile impossible to hold back as you watched him throw his head back to bellow out a laugh and it was your favourite sound in the world.

"What can I say? I'm a lucky girl."

˚ ⟢ .˚ 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄 ˚. ⟢ ˚ 𝐎𝐏𝟖𝟏 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓

[ oscar piastri x fem!reader ] - REQUESTED

┈⋆⭒ summary. after accidentally discovering one of your boyfriend's kink, you can't wait to try it out with him.

┈⋆⭒ word count. 2.3k

┈⋆⭒ tags. smut, pegging, slight fem!dom

⌇WARNINGS. none ‹𝟹

You hadn't meant to, really. You had forgotten to send an important email to your boss and were too lazy to get your laptop from downstairs; so you took your boyfriend, Oscar’s, laptop and opened it before typing the password in. It’s not like he had anything to hide or even that he didn't know that you sometimes used his computer: he was literally the one to share his password with you. But as your eyes widen at the video playing on the screen, you're beginning to feel guilty for peeking into Oscar's personal stuff. 

Before your eyes is a video of a couple, naked, on a bed. Now, you were not a prude, and with all the travelling he did, all the time spent away from you, it was not strange to learn that he might occasionally watch these kinds of videos but the fact that he was watching porn was not what shocked you about this. No, the man on the screen was on his knees, muffled moans and whimpers coming from where his head was hidden in the pillow. The woman was behind him, a blue dildo strapped to her hips buried deep inside the man’s ass as she stroked his cock. 

"Taking me so well honey, such a good boy for me." The woman’s voice is sultry as she praises the trembling man beneath her. She’s folded over his back kissing his shoulders as she jerks him off faster, never letting the movement of her hips falter. "I’m gonna come, mistress" The man whines and before he starts shooting ropes of white onto the bed, you close the laptop, your cheeks burning from embarrassment. Or was it desire? You weren't sure then and still weren’t sure once the strap-on you had ordered immediately after this discovery had arrived at your apartment. 

You hid the box inside your closet, your mind racing with dirty thoughts and a bit of doubt: what if he had been watching just out of curiosity? Even worse, what if he had watched it with disgust? What if he ended up being weirded out by how wet the idea of fucking him made you.

—

You'd almost forgotten about it until the winter break came. He had spent the first few days of his time off with his family in Melbourne and had planned to spend the rest of the break with you, in your shared flat. You loved seeing your boyfriend achieving his dreams and if you were honest, getting to visit multiple places around the world was not too bad either but lately, you really had embraced the calmer, more domestic lifestyle with the racing driver. You were currently seated on the couch across from Oscar, watching— or in your case pretending to watch— some boring Netflix show. You kept glancing at him, trying to find the courage to ask him about what had been plaguing your mind since all those months ago. 

"What's up?" He finally asks, realizing you weren't going to ask him about what was bothering you anytime soon.

Your eyes go wide; a deer caught in the headlights. You let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding and slowly turn your entire body to face him. 

"Okay, well. Please don't be mad." you start, he furrows his eyebrows, urging you to go on, "I- I saw what you were watching a few months ago, I didn't mean to!" You quickly add. The poor guy looks completely puzzled. "The porn." You say, feeling your cheeks growing hot. 

He seems even more confused, "Baby, what the hell are you talking about?" 

"The pegging!" You say, louder than you anticipated.

He swallows thickly and starts looking for his words as his entire face flushes a deep shade of red. 

"I– uh…"

"It's fine! It's okay, really, I don't mind– I mean it looked kinda hot." You say, sheepish. 

"Oh." He says, although still not meeting your eyes. 

An awkward silence follows, both of you looking for what to say. 

"I, uh–" You get up from the couch and make your way to the bedroom, "Come." 

You stop when you're in front of your closet and look back at him.

"I- I bought something, a while ago. After, well, you know. I think– I'd like to try it." You tell him, pulling the box from the depths of the closet and handing it to him.

His eyes widen slightly and he looks up at you before taking the box. He opens the lid and pulls the contents of the box out, his eyes growing even wider when he sees the dildo.

"Oh." he breathes.

"What do you think?" Your voice is slightly uneven, still afraid he's going to laugh and tell you it was all a stupid joke.

"Um–" He's beet red as he sits on the bed.

"We don't have to do anything, if you think it's weird, we can just... forget about it. I–" You start rambling. 

"I-I've never done that before, you know." He cuts you off, still not looking at you.

He's eyeing the toy and you realize he wants this as much as you do, perhaps even more, but you need him to say it.

"Me neither," you sit next to him on the bed, "do you want it?"

"Yes," he admits after a moment. 

That's all it takes for you to straddle him and press your lips against his. He responds immediately, opening his mouth for you to slip your tongue in. You moan as he places his hands over your ass and you start grinding over his already hardening bulge. You pull back, a string of saliva still connecting your lips.

"Strip." 

You're not used to ordering him around, especially not in bed, but the way he immediately obeys, once you get off his lap, scrambling to take his clothes off makes the blood in your veins feel electric. You look inside the box, pulling out the harness.

"Lie down."

Once again, he does as he's told, lying back against the mattress. You take your pants off and step inside the harness, adjusting the straps to fit you comfortably. You turn around, your breath catching in your throat at the sight: He's already panting, his chest is flushed and his hair is dishevelled. You follow his happy trail with your eyes until you reach his hard cock trapped between his fist, as he tries his hardest not to just start stroking it. The tip is glistening with precum and you can feel yourself dripping onto the inside of your thighs as you watch it leak along his length and into the light hair at the bottom of his shaft.

"Fuck." You groan before biting your lip. You take your shirt off and kneel on the bed, in front of him.

You kiss him softly, cupping his cheeks before running your hands down his sides and settling them on his thighs, parting them gently. You place a kiss on his nose, then his jaw and finally you start kissing and sucking at his neck. You lick his pulse point, enjoying the whimper you elicit from him.

"Please-" He breathes out.

"Tell me, baby. Tell me what you want." You whisper in his ear, nipping at his earlobe.

"I- I want you to fuck me."

You smirk against his skin and kiss his shoulder.

"Yeah? I'm going to open you up first, make sure it feels good when I get my cock in you." You're not sure where this sudden confidence comes from but when Oscar's hips buck up involuntarily at your words, you can't really seem to care anymore; you just want to make him feel good.

You grab the lube from the bedside table and pour a generous amount on your fingers, warming it up slightly before reaching down to rub circles against his entrance. He shivers at the contact and you replace the hand he has around his dick with your other one. You look up into his eyes.

"If you want me to slow down, or even stop everything, tell me and I will." You tell him and he nods as the tip of his ears turn pinkish.

"Fuck." He swears as you sink your finger into his hole.

"Good boy." You praise, feeling him clench down around your index as you push past the ring of muscle, slowly easing your finger in and out of him, trying to get him to loosen up. "That feel good?"

He hums, "Yes, fuck, don't stop."

You get back to it and after a while, you enter a second finger, curling them immediately hitting his prostate. His mouth falls open and a loud moan fills the room.

"That's it, baby, let me hear how much you love it." You say as you keep grazing the same spot over and over and slowly twisting your fist around his length, making his eyes flutter as his back arches slightly from the bed. 

You keep stroking him rhythmically, squeezing your thighs together, trying to ease the pressure forming between your legs as the sounds of your slick fingers pushing into him and his moans, groans and whimpers fill the air. Suddenly his eyes widen and he grabs both of your wrists, halting your movement inside him and around his length. 

"Fuck, stop. I’m gonna come." 

You smirk, a spark of pride growing in your chest from getting him already so close to coming. 

He's looking at the silicone cock hanging heavily between your legs: arousal and nervousness painted on his face. You drip some lube onto your strap, stroking yourself slowly and giving him your best bedroom eyes. 

"Shh, relax my love, we'll go slow," you promise as you get closer between his thighs, "if at any point you want me to stop–"

"I'll tell you." He finishes for you. 

"Good boy." You whisper in his ear, making him choke out a whine as a light blush spreads across his chest and neck.

With that, you peck his lips gently and put your hands on his thighs, keeping him open for you. You watch his hole flutter in anticipation and pour more lube onto your cock before nudging the head against his rim. You look up at him and he's got his eyes squeezed shut and his head anchored to the pillow. You push in slowly and watch his face contort into a grimace.

"You're doing great." You reassure him and he nods his head slightly, his lips still sealed into a tight line. 

As you push another inch in, you grab his cock, stroking him softly and rubbing slowly the spot under the head, trying to appease your tense boyfriend. 

"You're being so good for me, baby." You tell him as he starts relaxing.

You're about halfway in and you can't believe how aroused you are, even though you can't actually feel any pleasure from the strap.

"How does it feel?" You ask him, slowly continuing your intrusion inside his hole.

"Feel so full." He whimpers.

"Yeah? You're taking me so well my love."

You lean over his body and press your lips against his. When your hips meet his ass, you stay there, allowing him to adjust.

"Fuck," he whispers after a moment, "you can move, please."

You kiss him again and slowly start pulling out of him before thrusting back in, slow and steady only picking up the pace when he starts moaning and gasping under you.

"So pretty like this. My pretty boy, letting me fuck his pretty little ass."

He throws his head back, his mouth wide open, a low groan rumbling through his chest. You lean back, lifting his thighs and changing the angle in which you're drilling into him. He can't help the yelp that comes out of his mouth as you hit his prostrate straight on.

"Fuck! Right there. Please don't stop."

"There? Does that feel good, baby?"

He can't answer you, his brain going fuzzy with pleasure.

"Tell me." you order, "Does. It. Feel. Good?" You emphasize your words with a few thrusts of the hips.

"Yes! Fuck. Please, more."

You smirk and speed up, the sound of your hips slapping against his thighs echoing throughout the room, accompanied by the gorgeous sounds coming out of his gaping mouth. He's writhing in pleasure and you lean into him, leaving wet, open-mouth kisses against his jaw and his neck. 

"I'm close." He moans.

"I know baby, you want to come on my cock?"

He's still blushing, his eyes screwed shut and his fists tangled in the sheets, his knuckles white from the strength with which he's holding them. You wrap your fist around his length, making him look up at you and fuck, you wish you could take a picture: His hair is plastered on his forehead, his eyes are dark, his pupils blown and his lips are parted, a thin layer of sweat coating his entire body.

"You're so gorgeous, Oscar."

He closes his eyes once more and you kiss him hard, intertwining your fingers with his, holding his hand beside his head on the pillow, not slowing down your hand on his cock as you put every effort into your final thrusts, feeling his cock jump inside your fist, his orgasm quickly approaching. 

"I'm going to come, baby," he whines

"Go on, come for me." 

And just like that, his body goes rigid as he releases his load into your fist and all over his stomach. You stroke him through his orgasm until his entire body is jerking underneath you because of the sensitivity. You stay there for a few minutes, both breathing heavily, regaining your composure. 

You finally, carefully pull out of him, making him wince a bit before unlatching the harness from your hips and lying beside him.

"Was it okay?" You ask him, your initial doubt showing up again. 

He looks at you, an exhausted but blissful expression painted on his face, "It was better than okay, thank you." He says before pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head. 

"Good," you mumble into his chest, "'cause we're definitely doing this again."

"I can't wait."

FERNANDO ALONSO                          one must fight.       (aka very important back shots)

sebastian vettel’s music video era is on the brain CONSTANTLY. (aka the watch me work by melanie fiona music video except it’s only the sebastian vettel parts)

come take a dive

ship: finnick odair x reader summary: reader rides finnick's face. prompted by anon!! includes: afab!reader, gn!reader, slight insecure!reader (she's nervous to sit on his face bc she's worried to hurt him but her weight/body type isn't mentioned), face sitting, f!receiving oral, vague mentions of finnick’s canon sexual trauma asked to be tagged: @lufvg word count: 0.9k

"I can hold my breath for a pretty long time," Finnick said, smirking. "So you don't have to worry about me, baby.”

You laughed at his words, but there was a nervous shake to the sound. It had been his idea, for you to try sitting on his face, and he was insistent that you could actually sit.

As in, put all your weight down on his face and focus on nothing but your own pleasure, which was an incredibly generous and appealing offer, but…a little scary, too. Surely even Finnick’s well-trained swimmer’s lungs couldn’t withstand being smothered by your thighs.

He had already survived so much, it would be incredibly pathetic of him to die like that. When you told him as much, he grinned and said, “At least I’d die doing what I loved.”

You had rolled your eyes, but it had managed to ease your nerves. And so, you finally agreed to give it a shot, much to his delight.

Finnick’s past sexual encounters had not been about love or intimacy. When you met him, sex was something that he did because he had to, because it kept him safe, and well, he learned some valuable Capitol secrets along the way.

But now he was free of that life, and sex had become something entirely new and exciting for him. He especially enjoyed making you cum, as if your pleasure was something sacred to him.

Perhaps it was. To know that he had made you feel good, not because he was required to, but because he wanted to. Because he loved you, and he loved to make you feel good.

You hovered over him on the bed, bare from the waist down, only wearing one of his t-shirts. You straddled his shoulders, looking down at his face with a nervous grin.

“You sure about this?” you asked.

“Absolutely. Are you?” he replied, large hands rubbing soothing circles on your thighs, sneaking grabs at your ass.

“I think so. Do you promise you’ll tap out if you need?”

You had previously agreed that if Finnick ever felt triggered during sex, he would tap your nearest body part three times, quickly. The same applied to this situation, whether it was something that upset him or merely the fact that it could be difficult to breathe properly with his face being smothered by your pussy.

“I promise,” he assured you. “Now, c’mon. I wanna taste you.”

It was hard to resist when he spoke like that, and so you took a deep breath before adjusting your position so that your already wet pussy was right above Finnick’s pink, perfect mouth.

Slowly, you lowered your hips, sinking onto his face and gasping as his tongue immediately went to work, lapping at your clit desperately.

You moaned softly, grabbing the headboard to keep yourself steady. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but you understood the appeal.

Finnick whined against you, the action tangible against your cunt, a little vibration that made you pull up in surprise, just a tiny bit, but he wasn’t having that. His hands grabbed your hips and pushed you back down onto his face, his tongue fucking into your hole.

It felt incredible, and you whimpered at the mixture of sensations: His strong grip, holding you in place, fingertips digging into your flesh. His tongue, moving inside of you. And, most interestingly, his nose, which was nudging against your clit, keeping the nerves stimulated while his mouth was otherwise occupied.

You weren’t even sure he was doing it on purpose. Perhaps it was just a lovely coincidence, but the friction made your hips move of their own accord, rutting on his face desperately.

All the moving, combined with your wetness, it caused Finnick’s face to practically slide along your slit, somehow leading to the tip of his nose touching your hole, making you jump in surprise. It didn’t feel bad, but it was definitely a strange feeling. Not bad, though.

You felt Finnick chuckle beneath you, mumbling something that sounded like ‘sorry’ as he fumbled to reposition you.

“Don’t be,” you breathed.

He returned his mouth to your clit then, finally deciding it was time to make you cum, and it didn’t take him long to bring you there. Your legs shook as your orgasm built, and Finnick held you tightly in place until you were crying out.

You carefully got off of him before laying beside him on your back, your body still shaky and pumped with adrenaline. Your legs ached from holding that position and your thighs were soaked.

Finnick rolled onto his side, smirking at you. His face was damp, shiny with your wetness. “See?” he said.

You rolled your eyes, giggling. “Okay, yes. It was worth it.”

“Are you gonna thank me?”

“For convincing me or for making me cum?”

“Both.”

You smirked, eyeing Finnick’s hard cock in his pants. “I know a way to show you just how grateful I am.”

He grinned.

SOMETHING SCANDALOUS !!! DANIEL R. X FEM!READER (18+)

summary: she was so drawn on him that she couldn't find herself to care where she was. (pt. 3-ish of something watchful and something jealous).

content warning: smut under the cut (minors dni!), based on a request from my ask, use of explicit language, pwp, what is beta reading, unprotected sex (a no no), semi-public sex + mirror sex hehe, oral sex (m receiving) + deepthroat, p in v, exhibitionism + mentions of voyeurism (!!!!), just straight up nasty tbh, degrading ('filthy baby'), mentions lando watching (something jealous), lewis + max + lando + daniel scene at the end.

song rec: agora hills by doja cat (i've been playing this song endlessly now)

note: i know i'm not taking any requests atm but god did i want some exhibitionist!danny. anon, forgive me if this is way below what you've expected but i've done my best xx

something sinful (smut) masterlist

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out

she hadn’t expected herself to act like this. in a club restroom, of all places. 

but she was so drawn and drunk on him that she couldn’t find herself to give a fuck. her mouth humming around his thick cock as daniel exhaled sharply and muttered beneath his breath. 

“fuck, such a good fuckin’ doll f’me,” he swore, his half-lidded eyes peering down at her with nothing but lust. “suckin’ me off in a club bathroom— y’really wanna get caught, huh?” 

her eyes nearly shed tears as she inhaled the last of the oxygen she could consume, the tip of his cock resting at the back of her throat as her tongue swirled on the underside of his cock.

the echoes of daniel’s groaning remained inside the bathroom. the couple were thankful for the privacy of this place— as if this public place was meant to be shagged on by two desperate people. 

“you should see yourself, princess,” daniel moaned as she began bobbing her head, “sucking me off in a bathroom where some drivers can walk into— like you want them to see you.” 

her legs instinctively shut and rubbed against each other, desperately finding a way to scratch the itch in between her legs as she moaned. the vibration of her mouth made him groan deeply. 

“yeah? you really want that huh? filthy baby,” daniel taunted her. “wan’ them to see you? wanna remind them that you’re my filthy girl?” he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her away from his cock, making her cry quietly at the sharp pain of her roots and the lack of cock on her mouth. 

her skin met the cold marble tiles of the sink, feeling his hands bruising her hips as he slid into her. she let out a shrill cry, his cock bottoming out inside her cunt. 

“god, baby you’re so fuckin’ divine,” daniel thrusted his cock inside her, his length reaching and hitting her sensitive spot repeatedly as she cried in pleasure. “yeah- let it all out. you like this, hm? you like this cock inside of your cunt?”

“fuck- daniel, yes!” she exclaimed, holding onto her dear life as he continued to fuck her from behind.

the australian took a hold of both her arms and held them behind her, watching her tits bounce in front of him with grace and filth that he hadn’t expected to act on.

his hand propped her chin up and tapped on it lightly, “look at you,” he demanded quietly, “open your eyes pretty girl.” 

as if she was in a drunken haze, her lust blown eyes opened and trailed down from her bouncing tits to his cock— her mouth drooling at the sight of it sliding out of her. 

“you like that?” daniel chuckled behind her, nipping at her ear as she mewled. “oh you do. you definitely love that, sweetheart— you are such a filthy thing.” 

“and i thought fuckin’ you in front of lando would cut it,” he cooed mockingly, his pace increasing as she babbled about wanting to cum. “turns out you want more to see you, huh?”

“‘m sure they wouldn’t oppose to that,” daniel continued, “could see all of ‘em eye-fucking you when you wear those fuckin’ dresses to the paddock. pierre hadn’t been able to keep his mouth shut about you, either— tellin’ me that you’re hot as fuck. i don’t blame him.”

“and max?” daniel chuckled darkly, “he wants to fuck you too, baby— can you just imagine how it’s gon’ be if he finds out that he can’t have everything he wants just b’cause he’s the champion? i pity the poor man.” 

“maybe lando should warn ‘em,” his cock continued to spear her insides as she screamed silently, her hand holding on to his arm behind her as her cunt throbbed. her walls called for orgasm— yet he continued fucking her like she wasn’t eager to reach her high. “tell ‘em that i’m not the type to share— but to brag, no?” 

“or should we just let them find you here?” he laughed quietly, his mockery turning into a sign of pleasure as he said, “god fuck— baby, cum f’me, yeah? i can feel- god, fuck.”

“fuck danny~” she let out a loud whine, her body reaching her high as she clenched around him. daniel let out a choked moan, his cock twitching and coating her walls white as he reached over to kiss her hard.

the restroom, once filled with filthy words and sounds of desperation and pleasure, fell silent as the music outside continued to be loud enough to cover their heavy breathing. 

but it wasn’t loud enough to not create a scandalous story that was shared amongst the singles of the grid. 

a week after, when daniel arrived before the driver’s pre-race conference began, max and lando gave him a knowing look. the australian returned their expressions with a puzzled one and lewis finally gave up his act and chuckled.

hearing lewis’ laugh, daniel gave them all an annoyed look, “okay, what the fuck is going on?”

max grinned mischievously and leaned against the wall with a smirk. 

“i knew you were into pda,” lando joked, “but i didn’t think you’d go as far as that.” max chuckled at that. 

daniel gave lando a glare. out of all of them, lando shouldn’t be joking about that; not when lando witnessed daniel fuck his girlfriend's brain out before. even the brit knew that but he couldn’t help but laugh.

“we’re just saying,” lewis cleared his throat, “if you wanted us to catch you two so bad, you could’ve just let us join.”

daniel scoffed haughtily, “you fuckin’ wish.” 

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader @enhacolor @roseandtulips @woweewoowa

♡   moony’s reminder 🅴 (explicit edition): @glitterf1

Fernando Alonso x YoungerReader! Smut

HEAVY use of ‘daddy’, smut 18+, vaginal sex, oral sex (both receiving) fingering, squirting, anal play, choking, spanking, masturbation, everything ok. Reader is younger than Alonso (no age specified) who is friends with her dad, and the two engage in a secret, sexual relationship. Semi-public sex ensues and Nando fucks reader up against the door that people are trying to get in. Readers a massive tease and gets a kick from getting Fernando off in public.

It started when she’d followed Fernando around the corner, fixing his tie and collar for him when he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. Fernando didn’t know what to expect, he thought he’d massively overstepped a boundary, but little did he realise that y/n was going to kiss him back with twice as much need. He’d had his eye on the young girl on the past 6 months since the 2023 GP kicked off and he worked around her dad often. She was younger than him, it wasn’t anything inappropriate, but the positions they were both in wasn’t exactly a recipe for success. Fernando didn’t care, neither did y/n. For the first time in years Fernando felt excited, passionate, horny- he hadn’t felt so strongly towards a woman in as long as he could remember. The naughty texts he’d get from her, the images, the videos, he felt like his heart, body and soul was owned by her. He was uncontrollably infatuated with y/n and the younger woman felt the same towards him. She’d sit in the chair, smiling and sighing towards him like something out of a Hollywood film. Fernando felt desired, and when he smirked towards her, she felt the exact same way back.

In one particular, very boring meeting (that she was supposed to be listening to) she placed her index finger up to her lips, grazing over the soft area delicately. As she did, she noticed Fernando with eyes already focused on her. They were locked on her and only her. The way her finger that had been inside her only hours prior grazed over her lips. Fernando would die for them to be inside his own mouth, sucking off her sweet juices. He felt his cock jump from just thinking about it.

She bit down on her finger, offering him a smile before her eyes fell to the front of the room, sucking ever so slightly on the tip of her finger. Fernando adjusted himself, attempting to glimpse to what was occurring in the meeting, but he couldn’t turn away from her for any amount of time.

His head snapped back to see her crossing her legs, squeezing them together, the bare skin being so smooth and tanned. He imagined sinking his teeth into the flesh, spanking and then kissing over her thighs, hearing her squeal in a pained pleasure. His cock jumped again, this time there was so adjusting himself to make the issue less well- prominent. He could feel the way his cock was strangled by his pants, strained and aching against the confinements of his trousers.

Y/n’s eyes fell on the area that Fernando evidently tried to cover up. Offering him a sheepish smile, her heart fluttered as she proudly sat, knowing she could make him hard over barely anything. She writhed her legs together again, positive nobody else in the room would pick up on her subtly acts. She reached out, hand wrapping around her water bottle, grazing her hand down before taking a few sips, her lips gliding over her lips afterwards, picking up any stray drops of water. Fernando’s mind went back to the image of her licking his cum clean off his spilling cock, it dripped down her lips and chin deliciously as he exploded his seed inside her mouth.

Oh no. Fernando thought, feeling an uncomfortable stickiness gather against his pubic bone. He was leaking again thinking about her. For a moment he forgot he was a grown man. Slowly, Y/n slid up from her chair, Fernando and some of the other men’s eyes fell onto her ass as she made her way out of the room quietly, smiling innocently. Fernando gulped, wondering if that was an invitation for him to follow. His head snapped back and forth from her and then back to her father who was busy holding the meeting. He’d be busy for at least another two hours, thought Fernando. Gaining the confidence, the driver kept a hand over his crotch, excusing himself quietly before hurrying down the hall, the brush of his pants against his cock making him wince. He needed to be free, and fast. He pulled out his phone desperate to hear from her, only his eyes popped out of his head seeing the video she’d sent him only a minute prior.

Fernando eyed up the empty hall, turning down his volume to a low setting before playing the video and seeing it was her, sat on a couch of a small meeting room, pants off and fingers rubbing over her clothed clit. Fernando could faintly hear her soft pants, and had to stabilise himself from fainting at the pure bliss of receiving such a video.

Y/n: hurry the door is unlocked I’m in the same one from yesterday

Fernando’s body moved faster than his legs could take him and he was overwhelmingly quick to reach the room. He had to take a breath to compose himself, entering the room with a hitched jaw seeing her sat, legs pressed together under a blanket and a shy look covering her face. Thank God it was Fernando, she thought, and not some other person who accidentally stumbled into the room.

Fernando completely forgot to the lock the door, not that that would matter straight away, but he quite literally was gobsmacked when the blanket fell and she spread her legs, pushing her hand down over the lace of her pants, sighing as she rubbed over her aching pussy.

How Fernando didn’t cum there and then in his pants he’d never know. He looked so good, she thought, her head tilting back and to the side with a soft sigh of his name. His black polo tucked into his black pants, arms bulging out at the bicep, similar to how his cock pressed at the seams of his pants.

With the moan of his name, Fernando fell to his knees, a gentle smile tugging on his lips as he reached out, taking a hold of either outside of her legs, rubbing down the soft skin. “La mejor sorpresa.” (The best surprise) he hushed, pressing a longing yet tender kiss to the sensitive of her flesh. Y/n exhaled gently, continuing to rub gently, hips gyrating up and down ever so slightly. She was captivated with his Spanish words, the glisten in his hazel eyes. Her movements were relaxed with a second kiss to her inner thigh.

“My love.” He hushed in his husky voice, resting his cheek and temple to her legs as he gazed up to her. The moment was gentle, yet overwhelmingly sensual. His eyes trailed down to where she pleasured herself and he unconsciously pressed his crotch harder against the edge of the couch.

Y/n let out a soft hum, a slight plea for him to touch her. He slid his hands forwards, taking her underwear by the waistband and slowly pulling them off, tossing them to one side. “Necesito este coño.” (I need this pussy) he hushed, kissing her pussy lips gently. “Te necesito.” (I need you) Fernando whispered again, spreading her lips a little further and licking a stripe up between her folds. His tongue was hot and wet, flicking over her clit which sent a sigh of relief to leave her lips.

“What’re you saying, Nando?” Her voice broke on an inhale when he wrapped his lips around her pussy, sucking gently, her hips lolling forwards. “How much I need you and this pussy.” The Spaniard rasped against her, lips moving against her skin as she spoke. She was sticky from wetness, Fernando wanted to lick it clean. He imagined how badly she was squirming in her underwear at the meeting, her thongs dripping with her juices.

“Mh, you’re all I can think about.” She airily spoke. In response, Fernando ate her out, gently, but steadily. Her hand came up, swiping her hair out of her face like she was in a movie, Fernand’s eyes glued to her. “Fuck… yes.” She exhaled out in response, fingers stroking through his dark strands of hair. Fernando wanted to feel the tug of her fingers against his scalp, the scratch of his nails down the tattoo on his back.

Fernando flattened his tongue, swiping all over her pussy, letting out a grunt in appreciation as he hooked her thigh over his shoulders, delving deeper. The sound of her moan cracking had him going crazy, he slurped and sighed against her drenched core, spitting and adding a finger to the mix. Her sounds were pure bliss, she gasped and begged for more, fingering at his hair, his shirt which had pulled loose from his pants.

“Fernando… fuck, Nando, Nando, Nando.” She wept out his name like a mantra, still remaining relatively quiet. Fernando didn’t want quiet, he knew this area of the hotel would remain virtually empty, he wanted her screaming, cock hungry for more of him. After one particular sharp pull on his hair, Fernando let out a moan, eyes rolling back and voice vibrating against her aching pussy, he pulled back and bit firmly into the flesh of her thigh.

“Please.” Her hips bucked, and she yanked him by the hair back into her vagina. Fernando felt the ache of his cock now, painful in his pants, he thrusted slightly against the couch, rubbing the his cock up and down against the plush material.

Fernando brought his fingers up, pushing one into her hole with no warning. “Fuck!” She squealed, hand snatching the couch, nails digging into the material as he pushed the digit in and out of her. “Oh my god!” She moaned in a pornographic manner. Fernando smirked, this is exactly what he wanted from the younger woman.

Her hips were jumping so Nando pushed a hand against her hip bone, pinning her into the couch whilst finger fucking her with his other hand. Y/n felt the sensitive fuck of his digits against her g-spot and knew she wouldn’t last long. He sucked and licked like a desperate man against her pussy, hand moving up to pin at her throat as her moans became distorted through the lack of air.

The familiar tightness built and the squelch of her wet pussy was soon replaced with a gushing as she came undone, both with her orgasm and squirting all over Fernando’s hand. He growled, continuing to finger her over the edge as she screamed out, unable to take anymore. Anybody listening in would think there was an exorcism taking place. “Fernando, please!” She begged as he removed his finger, lapping up her spilt juices, hands moving down to unbuckle his belt desperately. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck!” She choked out, tormented by the over simulation. Fernando quickly freed his cock, wiping the back of his arm against his chin and mouth before moving down to kiss her with an undeniable want. “Let me fuck you.” He grunted, jerking his hand back and fourth over his cock that had been deprived for so long.

“You don’t want to fuck my mouth first?” She giggled, Fernando paused, panting harshly before kissing her firmly again. “Please, please, I want your cock in my mouth.”

“You want that?” Fernando grabbed her hair, forcing her to look up at him. Y/n grinned through her excitement, the pain of his fistful around her hair making her pussy throb all over again.

“I want it so bad, Fernando.” He kissed her once, twice again, before pushing her down to her knees where she gagged herself on his erection, stuffing her mouth as full as she could have his large cock. Fernando immediately let out an animalistic groan at her hot mouth around his aching member. Her mouth felt so good, too good, almost as good as her tight little pussy.

She moaned around his length, gazing up through those pretty eyelashes as Fernando stared at the youthful woman. From this angle he could see to her breasts down her top, the swell of them in her bra, pushed together, he wanted to spill his seed all over them. Fernando’s mouth was open, face was red and he began sweating with eyebrows knitted together as Y/n watched him, sucking up and down on him.

Her cheeks hollowed out, she drooled down his cock, taking a handful of his balls, delighted to hear the many moans, pants and grunts that Fernando unleashed. She teased, running her wet tongue all down the base of his cock and over his head, over his balls, going excruciatingly slow, “why don’t you take charge, you know I like it when you are.” She giggled, sucking his tip lightly. Fernando’s voice cracked as his head fell back in pure bliss.

“Are you sure?”

“Please… please daddy.” She hushed out the next words and Fernando felt so filthy- in the best way. “Say it again.” He snatched at her jaw, “daddy.” The pet name caused him to pop a gentle smack over her cheek, one that made her grin before he yanked her chin open and began thrusting into her mouth. “Ah- shit- ah mierda!” He cursed in both English and his native tongue, hips jittering when he felt her take him all the way down her throat. Y/n’s nose was pressed to Alonso’s freshly trimmed pubic bone, she gagged slightly and Fernando pulled off with another loud groan.

“Are you ok?” He held her face, seeing the tears formed in her eyes from choking on his cock. “So good.” She confirmed as he smiled, lifting her up to her wobbly feet.

“You know you are good at that.” The man flirted, beginning to unbutton at her blouse, ripping it off before moving to her bra. “I know.” She teased with a giggle, the two of them sharing another kiss. “Where do you want me? Bent over?” She moved up and around to his ear, standing on her toes to kiss at his neck, jaw and earlobe.

“Yes.” Fernando breathed, tossing her bra to one side before taking a handful of the swell of her perfect breasts. “You can have me however you want.” She whispered, sending shudders down his back, the two of them sharing another heated, open mouthed kiss before she pulled at his shirt, freeing him and exposing his bare, toned abdomen.

Fernando twisted her by the hips, her body completely nude for him as he planted a spank to her ass- not too hard, he didn’t want to hurt her. “Harder.” She moaned in response when his palm caught her ass a little harder. Alonso moved down, licking a swipe all the way from her pussy to her asshole, delving in the area once again. It was irresistible, she was irresistible, and when his cock squelched inside the wetness of her tight little hole, Fernando thought he’d faint.

“Oh, Fernando!” She whined, petite frame pushed over the back of the couch as she arched her back, he continued fucking into her, sending a few slaps over her ass and thighs in the process. “Daddy, please.” She begged, reaching back. Fernando grunted, snatching her hair and pulling her back as he leaned forwards, catching a kiss to her forehead as she panted, breathless from the sex.

Fernando’s hand palmed at the flesh he’d slapped, smoothing the area and relaxing his hold in her head to hold under her chin, his lips pressed to the top of her head tilted back.

“Eres mi buena chica, ¿no? Qué buena chica sucia, rebotando así en mi polla.” (You’re my good girl, aren’t you? Such a good, dirty girl bouncing on my cock like that).That’s when the Spanish dirty talk happened and Y/n thought she’d pass out from pure ecstasy. “Yes, yes, yes.” She let out a low whine as Fernando knelt on the couch, resting his arms on the back, besides her body. His face was close to hers now as he bucked into her slowly.

“Yes?” He laughed. “You know what I’m saying?” Fernando grinned, kissing her cheek and pressing a second kiss to her lips as she giggled breathlessly.

“No, but I can guess.” She hummed. “I bet you can.” He panted in response, pulling her up my both her arms and continuing the same brutal pace as earlier. Her cries and whines continued as Nando breathed heavily, grunting through the building pleasure he felt. Her pussy was the tightest he’d felt, so warm and wet, he fit inside perfectly. He was meant for her.

As the two were evidently occupied, they didn’t hear the footsteps gaining towards the door- and no it wasn’t Y/n’s father- thank god. But instead, the handle jiggled, a businessman from the meeting looking for the bathroom. Fernando reacted quick, slamming his hand against the door and locking it. Y/n laughed, turning over her shoulder in surprise. Fernando let out a breath of relief before smiling towards her and gesturing her over. “Fuck, Nando, did you not lock the door?” She brushed her hair out of her face. The man simply shrugged with a sheepish smile and she playfully nudged him.

He reached down, grabbing her thighs and wrapping them around his waist, pressing her back to the cold door in which people were trying to get into. “Fernando! It’s cold!” “Shhh.” He teased, slipping easily back inside her dripping pussy. Her mouth opened and eyes glazed over again, this time, Fernando couldn’t stop staring at her beauty. His lips made his way to hers and their sounds were muffled by the kisses and the hitting of her back against the door. “Fuck!” As their love making continued they became careless, loud again, the door was rattling and Fernando began drilling into the girl who clutched at his shoulders, nails digging into her back.

“Nando!” She wept, her body tensing, coil tightening in her abdomen. “Not my name.” The sweating man grunted as she moaned out again. “Daddy.” She cried out instead which only spurred him further. One arm wrapped around her lower hips, whilst the other pulled down on her shoulder, stuffing his cock as deep inside of her pussy as possible.

“Gonna cum- fuck! I want you to come too.” She gasped, leaving a particularly harsh scratch in his back. Nando growled before pulling her hair to one side, his fist shaking as he chased his orgasm.

“Please, please, please!” She pleaded, fingers rubbing against her clit as she bounced aimlessly with every thrust. “Yes.” Fernando choked out. “Yes, yes, cum for me- I’m gonna- Mierda- I’m cumming.” His jaw tensed as he let out an animalistic groan of pure bliss through his teeth before he was thrown over the edge, her orgasm approaching soon after.

Their sighs of relief mixed with yells and groans of pleasure settled down, and feeling the drip of his cum from her pussy, Fernando let out a small sound, moving her gently and laying her down on the couch. “Mh-” before he could move she held onto his arm, the man chose to settle down besides her, kissing her tenderly and plugging a finger inside the hole he’d just filled with his cum.

“You did good.” He whispered, leaving a longing kiss to her temple, and another on her lips. “Nando.” She innocently whispered, fingers trailing through his hair. He glanced down, inspecting her leaking pussy as he pushed his finger in gently. Y/n whined slightly but Nando soothed her with gentle shushes.

“I bet your dad doesn’t know what kind of a bad girl you are.” He muttered as she giggled, swatting his arm slightly. Fernando rested on his side, admiring her beauty with a hand under his head, elbow prompted onto the couch. He felt bad for whoever had to sit here after.

“My good girl.” He then smiled as they shared another kiss. He brought his finger up, to her lips and she stuck her tongue out, sucking him clean. Fernando could have sworn he was ready for round two immediately, entranced by how sensual and purely beautiful Y/n was.

Constant Craving

Pairing: Fem!Reader x Fernando Alonso

Summary: You invite Fernando to your fortnightly film night with your friends in the hope of spending time with him, but he clearly has other ideas.

Warnings: 18+

Word Count: 1990

Tags: essentially Fernando getting you off under a blanket during film night, fingering, exhibitionism, Nando being a fucker.

Masterlist

“What do you want to watch?” Charles asks, thumbing through Netflix as he sprawls over the armchair. 

It’s your fortnightly film night, which has slowly been gathering popularity with a few others on the grid, and as usual Charles was being indecisive. 

“Horror.” George suggests, resting his feet on top of Charles who shoves them off and glares at him. “Also, who invited Fernando?” 

Charles laughs and raises an eyebrow at you questioningly. 

“Don’t look at me! Probably Esteban.” You lie. 

You’ve been sleeping with Fernando for a couple of months now but you’ve been hesitant to tell any of your friends. It’s not like he’s all that popular on the grid, and you’re not sure how some of them would take it. When you’d invited him along you really hadn’t expected him to say yes, and you’re not sure why he did, but as he comes in from the kitchen, flinging a blanket over you both as he settles in next to you, you can't help but be pleased. 

Where you’d normally sit next to George, you’ve chosen to go for the two seater in hopes that Fernando would be able to sit next to you, which thankfully he’d picked up on, and you hope it doesn't seem too suspicious. You’re just looking forward to being able to spend some time with him and your friends. 

Eventually, Charles settles on some terrible horror film to please George, insisting on using the new surround sound system he’d bought to make it more immersive. 

Under the blanket, Fernando moves his hand slowly over to you and you bite your lip to stop yourself smiling, getting ready for him to slip his hand into yours. Instead, he places his hand on your thigh, a little too high to be an innocent gesture. You try not to react, feeling your heart rate spike as he runs it a little higher, slipping under your skirt. 

When you pluck up the courage to look over at him, he’s looking at the TV, face impassive as his hand continues to climb, reaching the edge of your panties. 

You squeeze your thighs together and he looks over at you, raising an eyebrow as your eyes widen at him. Without trying to make it obvious you quickly look over at the guys, but thankfully they're all focused on the film. 

Meanwhile, Fernando runs his fingers along the fabric, before lightly pinching you, making you jump before you can help it. 

“It’s not that scary y/n.” Charles teases you, and you feel yourself go red. 

You roll your eyes at him, muttering a ‘shut up’, but it's hard to focus when Fernando boldly runs his fingers lightly along your clothed pussy as you do. He’s touching you with confidence, circling your covered clit with slightly more pressure this time. 

You know that if you pushed his hand away or gave him any sort of sign he’d stop, but he’s also touching you like he owns you. Like he decided he wants to play with you, and you’re right here for him to do it. Like a toy for him to amuse himself with. 

The thought turns you on so much you have to bite your lip to stop a moan escaping your lips.

All the while he continues, pressing down on your clit hard, like it's his. You can feel yourself getting wet, and he must feel it too because when you steal a glance over to him he’s smirking slightly, still not looking at you. 

Slowly, he starts to press down, forcing some of your underwear inside you. Even though you’re wearing silk, its still rough against your sensitive pussy and you squirm in your seat. At the movement, he stops his motions and grabs you, his large hand pressing into you and pushing you back down where he wants you, heel of his hand against your clit. 

When you still your movements he rewards you by pressing into you again, harder this time but your panties are quickly becoming wet from the mess youre making and it makes it a bit easier this time for him to fuck them deeper inside of you, clearly having fun with you. 

You glance over at the boys again, sure that someone is going to clock onto what's happening, but George is trying to sneak his feet over Charles again and the rest of them seem engrossed in the film. 

Fernando notices it too, leaning over and whispering into your ear. 

“I bet I can make you come without them noticing. Just like this.” He says, low enough for just you to hear, fucking his fingers and your panties deeper into you and grinding the ball of his hand into you. “With everyone sitting there, so close, not knowing what a whore you are.” 

He leans back, not letting you answer, not wanting to bring any attention to you both. 

To let him know how right he is, you open your legs slightly for him to get better access and he huffs out a quiet laugh. The kind of laugh that says that's right you little slut, prove me right.

He’s right though, if he keeps this up you’re going to come from this. The fact he’s doing it so brazenly in front of everyone turning you on so much you could scream. Moving his fingers out of you, he pulls the soaking wet fabric up, as he drags them to your clit, the sensation making you let out an involuntary little noise. 

Fernando leans in again. “Careful now.” 

He’s going to make you come. He decided he wanted to play with your pussy and now he’s going to make you come in front of your friends. You can feel yourself going red. 

Because you made a noise, and because it's Fernando, he stops. His hands leave you as he goes back to running his thumb along the inside of your panties. You can’t even protest. You can't do anything but let him do whatever he wants. 

He doesn't let you rest for long though, slipping his thumb underneath the fabric and pushing them to one side. Without warning he pushes two fingers straight into you, making you choke out a noise. 

George turns to look at you. You’re sure you're bright red. Fernando stops his movements, but leaves his fingers inside of you. Charles turns too. 

“You okay?” George asks. 

“Just need some water, ignore me.” You say, reaching down to grab your glass, feeling his fingers shift inside of you. 

“Nah I think she's scared.” Charles laughs, and Fernando decides to start moving his fingers again, just as you try and take a drink. 

“If you’re scared, you can alway hold my hand.”  Fernando adds, and you whip your head around to look at him, eyes wide at the boldness of his words as he works his fingers deeper inside of you. 

Charles and George both laugh, but thankfully let it drop and go back to watching the movie while you take another drink and carefully put the glass down, trying not to spill any as Fernando fucks into you a little harder. 

It’s all just a game to him and god if that doesn't turn you on. 

He adds another finger and it's almost too much too fast but then he presses the heel of his hand into your clit and you nearly come right there and then, his fingers working you expertly. 

Suddenly, he removes his fingers, leaving you aching and desperate. 

You’re not even sure what this film is about, you can't focus on anything but Fernando’s hand between your legs, all thoughts emptying your brain except the need to get off. 

He’s not giving you a break though, no instead he focuses his skills on your clit, rolling it between his fingers and running his thumb over it, mixing up his speeds and technique until you’re about to cry before he fucks his fingers back into your dripping wet cunt. 

You’re going to come, you can feel it. He’s going to make you come not five meters from your friends. From your teammate. Just because he can. 

Risking it, you look over at him, and you think he gets it from how he smirks and speeds up, grinding his hand into you and finally tipping you over the edge. You clench around him, bringing your hand to your mouth so you can bite your thumb to not make any noise as he fucks you through it, your breathing heavier then it should be but you cant help it. 

As he slowly pulls out of you, you take a moment to comprehend what just happened, and before you can even catch your breath he’s on it again, gently playing with your wet cunt with small teasing touches. Not enough to get you going again, but enough to make your oversensitive pussy squirm under him.

He carries on like this for a while, letting you recover but also teasing you to the point that you want to cry. You need him to do more, to fuck you again, but you can’t ask for it. You can't do anything at all except let him play with you exactly how he wants and he knows it.  

His touch alternates between the sensitive part of your inner thigh, pinching it softly and then sometimes with a bit more force, before running the tips of his fingers up and down your wet pussy, all the while avoiding your clit. He dips his fingers close to your entrance, and you think that he’s finally going to fuck you again before he pulls back. 

You let out a little huff, loud enough for just him to hear but when you look over he doesn't react, his face firmly fixed on the tv, his expression impassive. 

When a particularly loud part of the film comes on, he leans in again. 

“When this is over I’m going to fuck this pussy so hard you’ll be screaming my name.” He says and finally, finally, fucks two fingers back into you. 

You’re not sure how much more you can take. You know the film is drawing to a close but if he doesn't make you come again soon before it does you’re going to scream at him, and you don't care who is in the room. 

Thankfully he speeds up, fucking into you deeply and curling his fingers up to hit that spot inside of you he knows makes you moan, grinding the heel of his hand into you. He’s doing it with such precise force. He wants you to come for him now and there's nothing you can do about it. He knows exactly how to work your cunt to get what he wants and there's nothing to stop him from taking it, and oh do you need it.

You feel yourself tighten against him, letting out a gasp that you’re glad can be interpreted as your reaction to the film. Reaching down, you grab his hand, holding onto him as he fucks you through your second orgasm, pushing your hips up to meet him. Coming for the second time in the same room as your friends. 

Part of you is worried that you’re going to have made such a mess that it will show, that you’re going to have a wet patch on your skirt, but Fernando just keeps his fingers inside of you. 

For the rest of the film he keeps them there. Not teasing, not moving, but just inside of you filling you up, reminding you of what's to come later. Reminding you that he can act like he owns your pussy, and you let him. 

It’s only when the film ends that he takes them out, wiping your own come off his hand onto your inner thigh before he moves, winking at you, reminding you that the night isn't over yet.

I screamed!!

Never Say Goodbye - Part 5

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

Word Count: 4,800 Warnings: **(Trigger warning) physical assault, mentions of blood, language.

Part 5: Self-Defense

Your scream muffled as another hand grabbed your arm, pulling you tight against someone’s chest.

Terror was a living thing inside you. It paralyzed your heart and lungs and mind, but thankfully not your instinct to get away.

You thrashed and kicked over a lamp trying to escape the hold. You were all but dragged across the living room and into the kitchen. There you caught a glimpse of your attacker through a reflection on the microwave—it was a man and he was tall and blonde.

Your mind finally cleared of your panic just enough to remember the years of self-defense your dad had taught you. So you used your somewhat free arm to grab the man’s hand and bite down hard.

He yelled in pain and loosened enough for you to throw an elbow back into what you hoped was his face. (It was his throat, but you didn’t know or care at the time.)

You were able to scrape a bit of freedom, getting just a few steps away until he grabbed at you again. This time he forcefully turned you around and slammed your head on the counter. Your senses fuzzed as you slipped and fell into a heap on the ground.

You struggled through a haze of pain to open your eyes, but your vision was blurry. Your face felt wet. And for a second, all you could see were shapes.

Those blurred edges cleared up when the man knelt down and took your throat in his hand. You blinked through a few drops of blood dripping down your face, when you finally saw his. And you recognized him.

But then he started squeezing. The panic started in earnest as you clawed at his hand on your throat. Behind him on the counter were the kitchen knives, but you couldn’t even get up, let alone reach.

He had you pinned on the floor and you couldn’t fucking breathe.

Dean was in a panic.

One moment he was washing his and Sam’s dishes in the kitchen, teasing his girl. The next, the icy grip of your fear (and your scream) squeezed around his heart like a vice. He’d felt the intensity of your fear before, but not like this.

The force of it actually made one of his knees buckle and he accidentally cut himself with a small steak knife he’d been washing. Fuck!

But the pain persisted. It brought him down as he tossed the knife into the sink and clutched his chest.

He could only try to make sense of your thoughts. You were instinctively imparting to him one after the next, but it was a blur of jumbled words and emotions that he couldn’t make out. 

You couldn’t hear him calling your name either. All that came through his connection with you was your terror.

And then…nothing at all.

It terrified him into stillness.

Dean slowly raised himself into a sitting position on the floor, and he called your name, repeatedly.

Hey, can you hear me?   

After along moment, he realized that the silence didn’t mean you were gone. He could still feel you. You were just in shock. Frozen. 

Sweetheart, you with me? he pressed. You finally roused enough to reply.

Yeah…I’m…here.

Good. Dean closed his eyes and released a breath. Fuck, sweet relief. He sat up against the kitchen cabinet. His hand was still bleeding all over him, so he held it closed with his other hand.

Good. I need you to tell me what happened just now. Are you hurt?

You looked down at the body in your kitchen: Danny Schmitt. He laid face down on the yellow tile with a chef’s knife lodged deep into his spinal cord.

Your throat and neck hurt (along with your head), so it was a good thing you didn’t have to speak to communicate with your soulmate.

Someone broke in, and…

You realized that your hands were shaking. As you saw again in the microwave reflection, tears streamed down your face. You had a stream of blood drying on your forehead and down your cheek.

And you had no idea what to do next.

Dean swallowed a surge of protective anger and nervous suspicion, trying not to assume the worst.

Did he hurt you? he asked.

He um…he’s dead. And I…

Your reply shocked him, but he let out another relieved breath. He carefully picked himself off the floor. Okay, call 9-1-1.

My…my dad is a cop. I have to call him.

Interesting.

Good. Call him now, Dean said. But what’s your address? I’m coming now.

On shaking legs, you left the kitchen to find your phone—in your purse in the living room. There was broken glass everywhere.

What’s your address? he asked. I’m coming now.

You froze, clutching your phone to your chest. No.

No? What do you mean no?

Fear and shock were making your erratic, but all you could focus on was the fact that you were in absolute shambles. You didn’t want him to see you like this. You didn’t want to meet him like this—with literal blood on your hands.

No, you repeated.

This isn’t up for debate. His tone was firm and worried. Don’t do this to me. Come on.

He called your name, but you stubbornly shook your head.

And you shut down the connection between you two. You didn’t know you could do that, but you did. And then you sat on the couch and wept.

Dean was paralyzed with shock. I can’t believe she just did that.

You were still terrified, probably hurt, and now he couldn’t get to you. He didn’t even know your last name. He didn’t have your number or anything to go on.

“Shit!” he growled, slamming his good hand on the counter.

“What the hell happened?” Bobby asked from the doorway. He took in the blood on the floor and Dean hunched over the sink with a bleeding hand.

“Think you can guess, right?” Dean snapped, gesturing to his hand. That was frustration enough for anybody, but he knew that Bobby didn’t totally buy it.

Right now, he didn’t care. He had to find you somehow. Right fucking now.

Your dad’s embrace was warm, protective, tight with worry and relief simultaneously. You sat in the back of the paramedic truck while they wrapped your injured head and checked your vitals. Jack was patient as he went through the questions he needed to ask about your attacker.

Your house had already become a crime scene, swarmed with police personnel. They’d already taken the body out of the house.

The paramedic advised getting you to the hospital for a head CT. Your father agreed, but you held onto his arm.

“Can you give us a minute?” you asked the paramedic. The woman was probably just a few years older than you. She nodded and went to connect with her partner on getting ready for your transport. Slowly, you got off the back of the ambulance.

“Whoa, what are you doing?” Jack said in alarm.

“Dad, listen to me,” you said. You guided him closer to the house and away from his unit of policemen. You opened your coat enough to give him a folded towel. He took it and unraveled it, revealing the bloody knife.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered. “Okay, don’t worry. This is standard self-defense.”

“Dad, I don’t remember grabbing the knife,” you said.

Jack rested a hand on your shoulder. “That happens. You’re in shock—”

“No. I don’t remember because it was never in my hand,” you whispered harshly. “I didn’t grab it. The kitchen knives were too far away. It’s impossible!”

“Okay, calm down,” your dad said gently. “You…you’ve been through a lot. You’re just in shock. You’ll get checked out at the hospital, but when all this clears, you’ll be fine.”

“Think what you want, Dad. But when they dust that knife for fingerprints, they’re not going to find mine,” you snapped.

Slowly Jack’s expression dimmed from patient to understanding. At the very least, he finally believed that you believed what you were saying–that you had no idea how that knife ended up in Danny Schmitt.

After discreetly taking a quick look around, Jack held out the knife to you, hilt first. He looked into your eyes. “Grab it.”

You released a breath and, for the first time, took it in your hand. You held it at the angle you would’ve needed to stab the knife downward. As if you had really stabbed that man.

Then Jack took the knife back.

“It’s cut and dry this way,” he told you. “Self-defense.”

You nodded, even though you regretted the motion immediately. The left side of your head ached terribly.

“This place is still going to be a crime scene when we get you out of the hospital,” Jack realized.

“I could ask Bobby if I could stay with him,” you said.

“No,” Jack said firmly. “The last thing you need is to be around that drunken idiot. No, you can stay with Jody Mills. She’s good people.”

“Dad,” you tried, but he was already calling Jody over.

“Hey Jody, can she stay with you tomorrow? I’ll bring her over once we’re done at the hospital tonight,” Jack said. Jody nodded and rested a hand on your shoulder.

“Of course, hun. Call me when you’re on your way,” she said. Jack nodded, and Jody got back into the fray of policework in your house.

You glared at him. “I’m not a kid. I can make my own decisions.”

Though you rubbed at your aching head. Jack ushered you to the ambulance and the paramedics strapped you in.

On the bumpy ride to the hospital, you felt terrible. Not just because your body was a walking welt, but because you shut him out of your mind. Whatever his name was.

You craved feeling his presence. Even though you still didn’t know what your soulmate looked like, you could imagine what it would be like to be held by him. Comforted, safe, with that deep voice like rich whiskey and still somewhat boyish, to tease a smile onto your face.

You wanted to open the connection and say, I’m sorry.

You almost did. But right now, you were a coward that let your fear win.

You kept the connection closed.

The next morning, Sam and Bobby sat at the kitchen table with mugs of coffee. They shared a mixed look of confusion and annoyance as they watched Dean make a pan of scrambled eggs.

It was the aggressive stirring and none-too gentle banging of various spices and cooking utensils that had them concerned (and significantly weirded out).

When Dean served up the food and set down their plates with a clang, Sam looked up at his brother with a raised brow. Dean didn’t notice though. He just sat down and tasted the eggs. A bit dry. Goddamn it.

“Dean?” Sam tried.

“What?”

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing,” Dean said. Even he knew it wasn’t convincing, but he didn’t care. His mind was too preoccupied with what happened with you last night. His connection with you was still on radio silence. He heard and sensed nothing at all…

And he was worried.

He debated going through the old-school yellow pages for every person with your name in Sioux Falls, but that could be hundreds. And he didn’t know your last name, or anything concrete about you except…

Shit, I’m a freakin’ genius! he thought. Dean remembered one thing: you were a student at the University of South Dakota. History major.

“Well, I’m gonna head out,” Bobby said. “Got a sixteen-wheeler to fish out of a gutter.”

He purposefully didn’t mention the tense atmosphere, but he gave Sam a look. Work it out, it said.

Dean turned to his brother after finishing up his coffee. “Look, before we hit the road, I’ve got something to take care of.”

“Oh yeah? Is it whatever’s got you on edge right now?” Sam asked.

Dean kept a stubborn lid on it. “It’s just an errand I’ve gotta run.”

“Uh-uh.” Sam shook his head. “What’s going on with you? Where are you going?”

Dean got up and ignored his brother’s questions. He didn’t know why his instinct was to keep this to himself, but it was easier than explaining the mess he’d gotten himself into.

Sam followed him into the living room and watched Dean grab his phone and the keys to the Impala. So Sam grabbed his wallet and phone too.

Dean shot him a firm look. “Stay here, Sam. It’s no big deal.”

“If it’s no big deal, then I’ll just come with.”

Dean made a sound of aggravation. Sometimes, Sam could be a massive pain in the ass. Dean’s lips were tight as he left Bobby’s house and headed for the Impala. Sam was hot on his heels. They got into the car and soon enough, Dean drove onto the highway going south.

“So where’re we going?” Sam asked.

Dean shot him an annoyed look, but his brother was unrepentant. So he gave up. “To the university.”

Sam had to think for a moment. “Of South Dakota?”

“That’s the one,” Dean said flatly. He stared out at the road ahead.

Sam had a feeling this wasn’t hunting-related, or Dad-related.

“What, are you scoping out chicks or something?” he asked, only half serious. He watched his older brother’s expression tighten.

“Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?”

Dean glanced at Sam, then made a sound of both frustration and defeat. “Chick. Not chicks.”

“Excuse me?”

“As in singular chick,” Dean emphasized. “A girl, Sam. My…well, not my. Not yet anyway—”

“Dean,” Sam interjected. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m looking for someone, okay?” Dean snapped. “You could say I’ve been hearing thoughts that ain’t mine, if you catch my drift.”

For a moment, Sam couldn’t compute. He stared at the side of Dean’s face, burning a hole in his head.

“Damn it, would you just say something? My head’s about to spontaneously combust,” Dean snarked.

“Your soulmate?” Sam clarified. “Your damn soulmate. You couldn’t just tell me that?”

Dean shot him a defensive look. “It’s a little personal.”

Sam released a frustrated sigh.

“Fine. You know where she is?”

“Kind of,” Dean admitted. “We haven’t met in person yet.”

Sam blinked in confusion. “Okay…this still doesn’t entirely explain why you’ve been so on edge. Damn near crazy.”

Dean hesitated, but eventually he explained.

“Something happened to her last night. Some guy broke into her house.”

Sam frowned in concern. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine. Well, she’s alive. But she isn’t fine,” Dean said. “Anyway, I just want to be sure.”

Sam’s eyes widened a fraction, both incredulous and recognizing his brother’s knack for downplaying these things, like he had with Cassie.

Well, it didn’t matter. Sam wasn’t going to let Dean let go of his happiness this time. 

After you were cleared to go home from the hospital with a concussion, but nothing else majorly wrong, your dad dropped you off at Jody Mills’ house.

You liked Jody, but you didn’t appreciate your dad controlling the situation—and by extension your life, as he usually tried to do.

So once you’d said goodbye to Jody and her husband when they left for work (and to drop their son off at pre-school), you took your keys that Jack had left you, grabbed your bag, and snuck out of the house.

It was more effort than you should’ve exerted, but you walked the two blocks home. Then you grabbed some more clothes, toiletries, and your car keys.

While the brothers Winchester searched for the university’s History department, Dean continued to beat himself up internally. Sam noticed his brother’s less than peppy attitude and shot him a questioning look.

“I should’ve just gone to meet her the first night she reached out,” Dean muttered. “I should’ve told her my name, at least.”

He should’ve reached out four years ago, when he had the chance.

“You didn’t even tell her your name?” Sam asked. His surprise was followed closely by anger. “You’ve got a chance here that not many people get in life, and you’ve been playing games.”

“I’m not fucking playing,” Dean shot back. “Do I really gotta remind you what Dad went through after Mom died? Not to mention how freakin’ insane our lives are. How can I seriously bring someone else into this?”

Sam understood how Dean felt, to a degree. He felt guilty for what happened to Jess every day—for not being there. He’d loved her with everything he had, and he still missed her. He wouldn’t stop hunting the Yellow-Eyed demon until he avenged her.

But he wasn’t like Dean.

Jess hadn’t been his soulmate.

Sam had a feeling Dean was hesitating because of something else. Something deeper than Dad’s example. Something that had a lot more to do with how Dean saw himself.

So as they walked down the hall towards the Dean of Ancient Studies’ office, Sam held Dean back a second by his arm. He was gentle, but firm.

“Dean, most people spend their whole lives looking for this, waiting for this to happen to them,” he said. “How can you shut her out?”

Dean slipped his arm out of Sam’s grip. “Right now, she’s the one shutting me out.”

Sam frowned, but Dean didn’t give him a chance to reply. He followed Dean over to the office and watched him knock on the door.

A woman answered. She looked refined, with her pencil skirt and severe heels. Her thin blonde hair was twisted into a tight bun, peeling back the skin of her face. She also looked irritated to be bothered by anyone.

“Yes?” she asked. Dean glanced up at the name plate on the wall. Dr. Helen Birch.

“Hi there, Dr. Birch. We’re looking for a history major, graduate student,” Dean began. When he gave her your name, she recognized it instantly.

“Yes, she’s my graduate assistant. She’s not in today,” said Dr. Birch. “She had an accident last night, poor thing.”

“Well, wasn’t really an accident,” Dean said, his mouth quirking humorlessly. “Someone broke into her house and attacked her.”

Dr. Birch nodded.

“A hellish thing, to be sure. But she sounded all right on the phone this morning,” she said, adjusting her Prada-framed glasses. She released a hum of a sigh. “Though you know, my husband died last year. I still came to work bright and early the next day.”

Dean’s gaze hardened, and Sam knew the tell-tale signs that his brother was about to lose his temper.

He laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder and cut in quickly, “Well, we’re her cousins. We just wanted to grab some of her things for her.”

Dr. Birch pointed at a room to the left of her office. “That’s her office right there. Give her my best for me.”

“We’ll do that,” Dean smiled thinly, but he allowed Sam to pull him away towards the office. Sam gave him a warning look.

“That lady’s lucky I’m a gentleman,” Dean muttered. “Freakin’ old bag.”

She wasn’t that old, but Sam wasn’t going to point that out.

“Just calm down,” Sam whispered back. They squeezed into the closet-like office and went over to your desk, where Sam sat and opened up your laptop. It was password protected. He worked on cracking it while Dean surveyed your work desk.

It was very organized. Your notebooks were piled neatly with various pens and highlighters in their own container. He felt bad about this, but he looked through the drawers next and found an old picture. He had a feeling it was of your parents when they were young. It was even labeled on the back: Jack and Christine — November 1985.

“Sam.” Dean showed him the picture. Sam nodded, taking the hint. He thought for a moment, then tried Christine as the password.

It wasn’t a match…until he tried Christine85.

Then the home screen finally booted up. From there it wasn’t hard for Sam to get into your email so they could find your full name. Next, he found your address from a PDF scan of a payroll stub in your documents folder.

“You’re too good at that,” Dean said. His guilt was growing; normally he would have no compunctions about rifling through people’s junk, but this was your stuff. They were invading your privacy to the nth degree. This is an emergency, he rationalized.

“There,” Sam said, after taking pictures with his phone. They knew exactly who you were and where you lived.

“How do you want to play this?” Sam asked, once he and Dean were on the road back to Sioux Falls.

“Let me handle this,” Dean said. It was a delicate thing. Their plan was essentially dropping in on you, whom he’d never officially met, after stealing your private information. Not to mention, you’d already gone through a lot in the past 24 hours.

Dean shook his head. “Let’s just regroup at Bobby’s. I’ve gotta think.”

An hour later, they were pulling into the driveway at Singer Salvage. Next to Bobby’s truck was a blue Camaro.

“I guess his niece dropped by again,” Sam said. Dean was curious, but that was quickly swallowed up by his ever-mounting problem: going to see you. How the hell am I gonna do this?

His mind was so consumed when they walked in, that he almost missed seeing Bobby’s guest in the kitchen.

You were sitting with Bobby at the kitchen table, drinking lemonade. Sam and Dean shared a curious look though, because you had a bandage on your left temple and scattered bruises on your neck and arms, but you still looked friendly, casually dressed in jeans and a soft college shirt.

Dean noticed your pretty face, the shade of your hair, your curves…but he narrowed in on the shirt. It read University of South Dakota.

His heart started to beat faster, though he didn’t realize it.

“Boys, this here’s my niece,” Bobby said. When you stood up and greeted them with your name, Dean knew it was you—the girl he’d practically been scouring the entire state for.

His brain caught up with his heart, which had already recognized you from the second he stepped through the door. Your name fell from his lips, and then your head tilted curiously, like you’d recognized his voice.

Finally, finally, the bond between your souls flared in his mind and warmed through his chest. You’d opened the connection again, and he felt your shock, your recognition, your wonder. Dean grabbed ahold of that pulsing thread of energy.

Hi, sweetheart, he said with a crooked smile. Except, you didn’t exactly have the reaction he was expecting.

You gasped and nearly dropped your drink.

All three men lunged to help you, but you caught the glass yourself. “I got it!”

You then set it down carefully on the table.

“What’s happening here?” Bobby asked. He seemed very confused. Dean couldn’t blame him. He only just now realized that Sam and Bobby were still in the room watching their little movie play out.

Bobby turned to you next. “You know Sam and Dean?”

You wiped your hands on your jeans, looking embarrassed. You gestured vaguely at Dean. “Well, just…kind of…”

“Me,” Dean said, pointing at himself, then at you. “I’m…we’re…”

Because Bobby was smart and intuitive, his face slackened in realization. “Hells fuckin’ bells.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded with a smile.

Meanwhile, you and Dean took each other in. Slowly you approached each other from opposite sides of the room.

Your gaze fell to the cut on his hand, which he’d bandaged up last night.

“Are you okay?”

Dean gave you a rueful look. “I’m the one who needs to ask you that.”

Your eyes lowered as you bit your lip. “I’m fine.”

Dean would be the judge of that. He drew close enough to examine the gauze bandage on your head. His hand raised to ghost along the bruises on your neck. It stirred his protective, righteous anger again, but he did his best to put a clamp on it for your sake. You were a scrapper, a survivor, and for that he was proud of you.

“Are you in pain?” he asked.

“The meds work just fine,” you said with a smile, but it soon fell as you chanced looking up at him. Dean looked into your eyes for the first time. They were beautiful, but sad and contrite.

“I’m sorry for shutting you out,” you said.

Dean huffed. “Yeah, that wasn’t pleasant.”

Behind him, Sam snorted and gave his brother a pointed look, which Dean ignored.

“I know. I was just…scared,” you admitted, gesturing with a hand to your injuries. “I didn’t want this to be the way we finally met.” 

Dean could understand that. He reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Still, can we keep the heart attacks to a minimum?”

You smiled again, and it reminded him of all the times you’d teased him through his mental connection with you. “No promises.”

Then you stared up at him with more of that wonder on your face.

“What?” Dean quirked a smile. You were starting to blush; he could see the faint pinkness spreading across your cheeks.

“You’re…tall,” you said.

Dean grinned. “Just tall?”

You crossed your arms in amusement. “And other stuff.”

“Yeah, that’s nice. Poetry, really,” he teased. “Definitely uh, putting that college stuff to good use.”

Sighing a laugh, you covered your face with a hand, fighting further embarrassment. It made Dean chuckle.

“All right, just teasing,” he said. “No need to hide.” He bypassed your hand to prop a finger beneath your chin so he could see your face. You met his gaze, waiting somewhat patiently while he looked you over. He could feel the heat rising off your cheeks though, and his smile deepened. You were adorable, and all too easy to tease.

But you were also beautiful.

Without really thinking about what he was doing, Dean found himself leaning down to brush his lips with yours—

Until your voice stopped him. “I, um, have to go. Take a shower.”

Your eyes were wide and somewhat nervous. Dean backed off, cursing inwardly at himself. His hand fell from your face.

“Okay,” he said slowly. “Need help?”

Your lips fell open in a soft “o” shape. Once Dean realized what he’d said, shock gripped both of you.

“Up the stairs,” he clarified. “The shower’s upstairs.”

Behind him, Sam made a pained face—like he was watching a car wreck and couldn’t stop. It made you smile, despite your lingering embarrassment.

But for Sam, he’d never seen his brother tripping up this bad over a girl. Usually he prided himself on being “Señor Smooth” (Dean’s words, not Sam’s).

Meanwhile behind you, Bobby rolled his eyes at you both.

“Sure, thank you,” you said.

You took Dean’s hand as he led you up the stairs. Maybe you shouldn’t have been trying to climb stairs with a concussion, but the pain medication really was helping you enough to be functional. Besides, Dean was supportive and went slow to help you.

When you made it to the top, you let go of Dean’s hand to grab your bag of clothing from the guest bedroom. When you came back, Dean was still waiting outside the bathroom with his hands in his pockets.

He really was tall, you thought. His grip while helping you had been gentle, but you’d felt the strength in his arms. You knew he wasn’t going to let you fall.

There were so many things about him that you hadn’t expected. His green eyes and sandy brown hair, his boyish, charming smile, his confident swagger, his lips…

“I’m sorry for putting Sam out of his room,” you said, mostly so you would stop staring. Dean rubbed the back of his neck.

“Nah, Sam’s like a dog. He can sleep anywhere,” he said. “On the floor, even.”

You laughed, though you tried not to at Sam’s expense. Dean smiled at the attempt.

“So, you’re Dean, the traveling exterminator,” you said.

His smile kicked up into a smirk. “Guilty.”

Your lips curved, a bit shy, but also a bit mischievous. He had spent a long time playing games with you. Now it was your turn.

You leaned up toward him on the tips of your toes, so you could reach his lips. With a raised brow, his body bowed towards you.

Once your lips were just a whisper away from his, you stopped.

“Good,” you said simply.

And you closed the bathroom door in his face.

AN: Okay, so an action-packed chapter for ya. And yay, they finally meet! Dean also encounters the infamous Dr. Birch, Jody Mills makes a brief cameo, plus Sam being a supportive brother.

One thing I want to note, in case people have questions about "Jess not being Sam's soulmate" here. I just really couldn't do that to him (losing his soulmate in his 20s on top of everything else). It was really so I could keep things open for Sam, not anything against Jess as a character.

That being said, let me know what you think about the first meeting!

To keep reading: PART 6

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This thing keeps on growing! Thanks to everyone following this story so far.

@curlycarley @buckywenal24 @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @irgendwas122 @deans-spinster-witch @dogbarkbark4445 @my-proof-is-you @vera0124 @deans-baby-momma @lacilou @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @happygoodvibe

insane thoughts hours but i really can't stop thinking about being in the middle of a lewis + fernando sandwich... what do you think

it's insanely competitive - the moment they get you back to a hotel room, though you're not sure whose of theirs it is, you get the sense this might be more about a silent set of mind games between the two of them, and less about you.

the position keeps changing and it's hard to keep up with who's where, with whose hands are doing what to you. you don't really understand what the goal of this is, until lewis takes you apart on his tongue and fingers, sucking on your clit as you orgasm with his name moaned around fernando's cock.

it's like a switch has been flicked, then. fernando manhandling you so you're on his lap, your back to lewis (and fernando grins at his glare), sliding three, even four fingers into you and setting a relentless pace until you're biting down a scream into the thick muscle of his neck and squirting all over his hand.

you don't get to recover before lewis is pulling you back towards him, positioning you on your hands and knees before burying himself to the hilt in your oversensitive cunt, telling you to keep looking at fernando, baby as you gasp for breath with how fucking deep he is inside you. that's what this game is -- one upping each other with your body, showing off who is better.

(and, of course, if fernando makes you squirt, lewis needs to match it, beat it.)

fernando pulls you under him and hoists your legs to his shoulders after lewis makes you orgasm again, soaking the sheets one more, sobbing his name and digging your nails into his biceps. nando is equally merciless, slowly rolling his hips deep, your thighs pressed up to your chest, before setting a brutal pace.

when you cum again, you're limp on the bed, moaned names collapsing into incoherent moans and whines. when lewis slides his fingers into your cum-slicked pussy once again, you faintly register how deliciously, painfully long this night is going to be.

Fernando being your dad’s best friend or something and someday he can’t help but give in to your teasing even though there’s a bit of an age gap and it feels wrong… but he finally decides to fuck you, calling you his good girl🫣 Very unhinged I’m so sorry x

Never apologise, this is the unhinged content I crave!!! -🐝

Also TY for all of the recent Fernando asks!! Glad to see people are just as unhinged about that insane little man as us. Will be writing more Nando content in due course!

Good Luck Charm

Warnings and tags: 18+ obvs, age gap, daddy kink, praise, unprotected sex, Fernando was made to eat pussy fight me, disclaimer I don't speak Spanish and had to use google 😬

Word count: 3,142

The security guard checks your pass, looking you up and down slightly but pasting on a smile and waving you through. To be fair to him you do have an unprecedented level of access for someone who is rocking up to the paddock alone.

Going along to GP's isn't exactly new to you, after all you've been coming to them ever since you were little, and more recently with your dad to support his friend Fernando.

Weaving through the paddock to find Fernando feels like second nature, only having to ask two of the Alpine crew you vaguely recognise where he is before finding him.

Honestly? You've been shamelessly flirting with him whenever your dad wasn't in earshot for a couple of years now. Partly because well, it's Fernando, he's ridiculously hot, but also because it's become almost a game of how far can you push him before he snaps. This time though, this time you're determined to cross that line. It's all or nothing.

"Hi." You announce yourself, peaking from behind the door where Fernando is sat with one headphone in his ear, the other dangling at his chest.

When he looks up at you, the frown on his face quickly turns into a smile and he pulls the other earphone out, standing to greet you.

You meet him halfway, pushing yourself into his open arms to hug him, pressing your body against his as you go up onto your tip toes just so you can fall back down again, sliding yourself against his toned chest.

When you pull apart he raises his eyebrow at you questioningly, but you brush it off, smiling with faux innocence.

He looks over your shoulder, as if checking that it's just you before asking, "Your father?"

"Oh he couldn't make it, I thought he told you it was just me this weekend?"

You're pretty sure you told your dad to tell him that you and a few of your friends were planning to go. All part of the plan to tease Fernando a bit more without anyone to interrupt you.

"Ahhh yes, I remember, you are meant to be bringing friends no?"

"Oops, I forgot to ask them." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him cheekily.

He gives you a knowing look and you raise your eyebrows as a challenge. Instead of chastising you, or falling for the bait he shakes his head.

"No matter. I'm sure you will make friends." He smiles at you like he's in on the game and he's here to play. "I could introduce you to Esteban again."

You can’t help the way your nose scrunches up at the thought and Fernando laughs at you, deep and open and you want to grab his stupid face and run your hands through his hair but you pull yourself back to the present.

"Are you ready for quali?" You walk around his room, feeling his eyes on you without looking at him, touching his desk, running your fingers over it before picking up his Kimoa cap.

"Always."

He's waiting for you to make the first move, he's almost daring you to, stood there with his arms crossed.

"Hmm. Maybe you need a good luck charm?"

You put the cap on your head.

"And what do you have in mind hmm?"

"I can think of a few things." You say, biting your lip and looking up at him, trying to get across an innocent suggestiveness that you think might just be working, as he steps closer to you.

"Why did you come here alone?"

"I think you know why." You lean in closer to him.

He doesn't move.

"Cariño, you are making this difficult." He's almost gritting his teeth.

"It doesn't have to be."

"Dios me ayude," Fernando sighs under his breath, and you don't know what he's saying but you can guess you're about to finally FINALLY get what you want. "You know we can't."

He doesn't sound sure though. He doesn't sound sure at all, so you close the space between you.

"Fernando." You breathe out. He slips his hand up to your face and you think he's going to touch you but he just grabs his cap back, flinging it across to the desk again.

You huff out a frustrated noise and he smirks down at you.

"Yes?"

"Please." You're so close you can smell his aftershave and you decide that it doesn't matter anymore, this game, all you need is for him to fuck you. Desperately.

"Please what, little one?"

He slips his hand under your chin, tilting your head up so you're forced to look into his eyes. With his thumb, he traces your bottom lip.

"Tell me what you want." He prompts again.

"Please fuck me." You whisper, and he smirks down at you, slipping his thumb inside your warm wet mouth.

Obliging, you wrap your lips around it, rolling your tongue over the pad. He lets you do this a few times, before drawing his thumb back, pulling at your lower lip. He looks at you for a second, before leaning in and gently pressing his lips to yours.

You practically sigh into the kiss, feeling him move one of his hands up to the back of your head and the other down to grip at your waist, pulling you into him.

Gently, he bites at your lip, slipping his tongue over the cusp of your lip before drawing back. You try to follow him but he moves his other hand down to grip the other side of your waist.

"We should stop this."

"No!" You practically shout, pressing yourself against him, watching as his face lights up with a grin and his grip tighten. You should have known that as soon as you got him to give in, then the game would be flipped. He has you right where he wants you. Although, it very much still feels like you're winning.

"This worked up already? Cariño, look at you, just a kiss and my hands on you and you're already desperate. Maybe you cannot take it." He sighs dramatically, thumbing his hand under your shirt and running his fingers along the bare skin of your hips.

"No I can, I can take it." You assure him. Then, to prove your point, you quickly throw off your top and bra, leaving you standing topless in front of him, his hands still toying with the skin above the waistband of your trousers.

He huffs out a small laugh at your antics, which you only find mildly insulting, and runs his hands over your stomach and up your chest, thumbing your nipples briefly making you squirm.

"What did I say hmm? Desperate." He brushes them again and you let out a small gasp. "Look at you."

"Please. Just... fuck me." You say again.

"Patience." He pinches one of your nipples and you have to squeeze your thighs together. "Go lock the door. Take your trousers off, and come sit." He gestures to the sofa and you feel the heat rising on your face as you comply, quickly locking the door and shuffling out of your trousers.

As you go to take off your underwear he stops you.

"Leave them on."

He guides you until you're sitting down on the sofa, legs spread as he kneels in front of you. Slowly, he runs his hands up you thighs, the touch light and teasing until he reaches the seam of your underwear.

"Did you tease me on purpose?"

"What?" You're struggling to think about anything except his hands on you, so so close to where you want.

"Every time you visited, or I came over and you bent over in front of me or touched my arm or said suggestive things. Was it all on purpose?"

"Yeah." You breathe out, and he grips your inner thigh a little harder. "It was."

"Okay." It's said so flippantly but you can’t help but think that something’s coming, some sort of reprimand or punishment for your behaviour but right now all you want is his fingers on you.

"Okay, I want you to come at least twice before I'll think about fucking you. You can be a good girl, no? I think thats fair."

He moves in before you have a chance to reply and nips at the skin of your thigh with his teeth making you gasp. He makes his way up the inside of your thigh, his beard scratching against your sensitive skin and you can't help but squirm, pushing your hips up to try and get more contact. In response, he just presses his hands down on your hips, steadying you.

When he gets between your legs he stops.

"Fernando." You whine at him. "Come onnnn."

He huffs out a laugh at your antics, moving his hand down to brush lightly over the fabric of your underwear, causing your whine to become a gasp.

Pressing a little harder, he watches as the fabric dampens underneath his touch, smiling as you moan for him. Still holding you down with one hand, he starts to play with you, running his fingers over the dampening fabric, dragging it against your clit as he presses down.

"Look at how wet you are for me. Such a good girl." He pushes the fabric into you slightly, the rough feeling making you moan this time, a choked needy little noise.

"Can I..." You start but you get cut off by a circle of your clit.

"Hmm?" He says innocently, as if he isn't playing with your covered pussy like you're a little toy to amuse him.

"Can I take them off?"

"No."

He continues as you huff out a frustrated whine, needing his fingers inside you desperately.

"They're staying on until you come in them. I want to see you ruin them."

With that he doubles down, leaning in to mouth at your pussy over the fabric, the warmth and drag of the fabric nearly making you scream out. You can feel it building up, your legs tensing slightly as he holds you there so he can have his fun.

"Please..." You ask, desperately needing just a bit more pressure.

"Please what?"

"Please daddy." You respond. It slips out of you with ease, seeming almost natural and it takes you a second to notice he's raised his eyebrows at you, clearly not expecting that from you.

You feel your face flush and start to turn red as you mumble out a 'sorry'.

"No, I like it." Is all that Fernando says, gaze darkening. "Be a good girl and come for me then."

With that he sucks at your clit over the fabric and presses them into you a little as you finally feel yourself come, wrapping your legs around his head as he rides it out with you.

"Thats my good girl." He grins at you. "Ruining your pretty underwear for me."

He peels them off and you lift your hips for him so he can pull them down.

He looks at them thoughtfully, then up at your mouth, before shaking his head and throwing them aside, almost as if he was contemplating gagging you with them.

The thought makes you almost ready to go again.

"Look at you spread out and dripping for me."

He spreads your legs with his hands and runs his thumb over your dripping pussy, but avoiding your oversensitive clit.

"I need you to fuck me." You huff out.

"Ahh but you have to come again before that, no? Or did you forget."

You groan at his smirking face, throwing your head back. It doesn't last long though, as Fernando slips two fingers straight inside of you, hooking them upwards as you clench around him and let out a high pitched little noise at the feeling.

Without warning he puts his mouth directly on your clit, rolling his tongue over it as he keeps his fingers still, feeling you tighten around him as you moan and whine.

You can't help but thread your hands through his hair, pulling on him tightly as you press his head into you.

It's almost too much, you're too sensitive.

"The noises you make." He says in wonder, pulling away to look up at you. "I bet boys your age don't know what to do with you, no? You need me to fuck you properly?"

You can feel tears forming in the corners of your eyes. He's right, no one has ever been like this. Sure, you've had sex before but no one has ever played with you like this, with such focus and skill to make you come so fast. No one has ever made you come multiple times.

His fingers are still in you, slowly fucking in and out of you now, and you can't help but wonder what it will feel like when he finally fucks you properly.

"Ye... yes." You manage to choke out, losing your grip on the ability to talk, your mind solely focused on the drag of his fingers in you and the pressure of his thumb against your clit.

"You're dripping onto the sofa Cariño, look at the mess you make." He punctuates it with a particularly fast thrust of his fingers, making you tighten and whine at him.

He speeds up, watching his fingers disappear into your wet little pussy for a moment before nipping at your thigh slightly and then running his tongue over you, up around his fingers and pressing against your clit.

You thrust your hips up and he lets you move against him, his fingers fucking into you fast and hard as you grind yourself against his face. You don't give him any warning this time, the feeling building suddenly. You tighten your thighs around him as well as the grip in his hair as you come again around his fingers.

"Fuck." You sigh as you come down, his fingers still toying with you gently before pulling out and wiping your own wetness on your thigh, the sight making you scrunch up your nose.

"So good for me." Fernando mumbles and you feel yourself blush at his words. "Do you think you can take me now?"

"Yeah, I can daddy."

"Good girl."

Before you can even begin to recover, Fernando has stripped out of his clothes and moves you until you're straddling him, his hard cock resting between you.

You get the idea, raising yourself up so you’re positioned over him and he pulls you in for a kiss as he guides his cock along the wetness of your pussy.

Slowly, you lower yourself down, feeling him stretch you out as you gasp into his mouth. He lets you take your time, biting at your lower lip as he also groans at the feeling of your hot wet cunt.

Grabbing your hips, he experimentally pushes you down a little and you whine, looking him in the eyes as he raises his eyebrow at you in a silent question.

You think you know exactly what he's asking so you nod your permission. He smiles, but more gently this time, grabbing your hips tighter and pushing you down faster than you'd been moving.

It feels so full when you finally take all of him inside of you, letting yourself adjust to the sensation as you sigh into his neck, running your teeth gently over the skin and mouthing gentle bites.

He palms at your ass, moving you in small rocking motions against him until you feel like you can move again, slowly picking up speed until you're practically bouncing on his cock, watching him close his eyes and groan at the feeling.

It gives you a little more confidence as you speed up, placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself.

One of his hands moves to thumb at your clit and you momentarily stutter in your pace, clenching around him as he tightens his grip on your hip in response.

It's almost too much, you're too sensitive from before and the feeling of him filling you up is like nothing you've ever experienced. You can feel your legs starting to shake and will yourself not to stop.

Fernando must notice though, as without any warning he picks you up, cock still buried deep inside of you, and lays you flat on the sofa, moving your legs so that they're resting on his shoulders, practically bending you in half for him.

"You're so tight mi amor."

You can’t even form the words to reply, too focused on the feeling of him fucking into you, controlling the pace as he slips a hand down to brush over your nipples, pinching them slightly before moving down to play with your clit.

It's so overwhelming that you can’t help the tears pooling at the corners of your eyes. Fernando is saying something, maybe in Spanish, maybe he's calling you his good girl again, you're not quite sure, all you know is that every time he circles your clit and thrusts into you you're dangerously close to losing it again.

You don't want it to end yet, it's Fernando, you've wanted this for ages and now you finally have it and you don't want to give him up.

It's no use though, he thrusts into you a little deeper and thumbs at you a little harder and you're gone, crying out his name as you come around his cock. The way you clench down around him sets him off as well, and before you know it you can feel him coming inside of you, filling up your pussy so much that when he pulls out you can feel it start to drip out of you.

He gently sits back down laying your legs out gently over him as he rests a hand on your inner thigh and runs his fingers over you gently.

"You were so good for me y/n. Look at you laid there, perfect for me." He slips his hand between your legs and gently gathers some of the come dripping out of you and fucks it into you a little bit making you squirm.

"Fernando." You breath out. "I cannot come again. I just can't."

He huffs out a laugh.

"Sorry, sorry." He mumbles, fucking his fingers in again, just the tip but enough to make you gasp. "I just cant help it. You look so pretty filled up for me."

"I can't believe we just did that." You say it mostly to yourself, but Fernando laughs again, this time a little more incredulously.

"If I get pole after this, if you're my good luck charm, we might have to do it every weekend."

You know it’s a joke but still, you can't help but fantasise about being his little good luck charm all the way up to a third world championship.