Summary: A lack of information from the chain of command results in König mistaking you for an enemy sniper. The altercation ends in your hospitalisation and when you've finally recovered, Price assigns the same man who destroyed you to teach you how to never let it happen again.
Requested by: Literally fucking everyone.
A/N: I genuinely hope this isn't dog shit and a complete letdown.
Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort || Forced Proximity || Enemies to ?
Warnings: Graphic language, graphic description of PTSD episode, graphic description of unintentional self-inflicted injury.
You had thrown up. Twice.
Pressure snaked its way from your chest to your throat and nausea gripped your stomach. You felt deeply unsettled. Your fingers shook, your face was gaunt- you hadn’t slept properly in days. You were a mess.
All because of him.
You cussed beneath your breath, bouncing on your toes lightly. You were due for another training session and considering you’d bailed on the last one, you couldn’t afford to skip it again. You’d received an earful from Price for walking out after your conversation with König.
That fucker had reported back to the Captain that you’d simply ‘discussed the terms of the agreement.’
You slapped your thighs. Then, you hit them harder. The sharp pain jolted your system, and you used the distraction to force yourself out the door. The more you dwelled on it, the more you needed to vomit again.
This time, König was waiting for you.
He sat on the bench, legs spread and his head down. He was fidgeting with his gloves and, had you not known any better, you’d have thought that maybe you’d snuck up on him. But you did know better. König was aware of your presence the second you entered the hallway.
You sucked in a breath as he finally looked up, pretending that he’d only just noticed you. His features were obscured by his hood, giving you no indication of his reaction. He felt inhuman, there was no tug of his lips or twitch in his cheek- only an emerald gaze that stripped you of your courage.
“Birdy,” König tipped his head in greeting, your name soft on his lips. Your chest tightened at the sound of his voice. You hated when he spoke like that, low and from his chest. You wished he would yell, you wished he would be boisterous— anything to drown his promises of death in your ear.
“Your fight is finished.”
You didn’t acknowledge him. You didn’t say his name. Instead, you slowly entered the room and moved to the farthest side from him. Your heart beat wildly against your ribs and the nausea you’d felt earlier was back in full swing.
“The sooner we start, the sooner you can leave,” König reminded you, flicking his gaze across your attire.
“Then start,” you snapped. The man blinked at your aggression and his fidgeting fingers fell still. For a long moment, neither of you spoke. That emerald gaze was pinned to your figure, steady and inquisitive and terrifying. He straightened up from where he was slouched over, his seated form already taller than you standing.
“What can I do to make you more comfortable with this arrangement?” König spoke slowly, each word enunciated with careful control over his tone. Your heart dropped to your stomach, he was getting frustrated.
You wanted to spit at him that the only way you’d ever be comfortable was if he were to leave. You wanted to shout at him to fuck right off back to KorTac and never show his face again; that’s what would ease your mind.
But, as he held his body deathly still, that stare trained on yours- you reminded yourself of what he was capable of.
“The mask,” you whispered, cursing yourself for the way your voice shook.
König finally moved, leaning back into the bench as he took in a long breath. He waited for you to continue, to pitch your proposition, but your mouth had gone dry and your tongue had fallen limp. When he realized that you weren’t going to offer anything more, he nodded his head, clasping his hands together tightly.
“You want me to…” König bounced his leg, clearing his throat as he sat up straight. “You want me to take it off?”
You nodded your head. König said nothing. The sinking feeling that he just might reject your request began to worry you. He could say no and there would be nothing you could do to argue that, you were still required by order to do these training sessions regardless of whether he agreed to your requests or not.
You swallowed thickly, scrubbing your nose to break the eye contact between you both. You couldn't stand it.
"I can't do this if you're wearing that thing," you waved vaguely at his face, keeping your eyes low. "It- I just-"
Frustration burned in your chest as you flailed to articulate your feelings. You couldn't tell him outright that his stupid fucking mask plagued your dreams every night. You couldn't tell him about the terror that gripped you by the throat whenever you laid eyes on it.
König didn't let you finish, anyway. He reached for his hood, swiftly pulling it from his head and, again, you were thrown off kilter by his appearance.
His brows were furrowed as he observed you from beneath his lashes. "I know."
He knew what you were trying to say.
"Shall we start?" He asked, slowly standing to his feet. And, despite it being painfully obvious that he was keeping his body language open, you still took an inadvertent step back. You cursed beneath your breath when he straightened up to his full height, the urge to run from the room was almost overwhelming. König triggered your fight or flight response and your body was a slave to its survival instincts.
You sucked in a breath, forcing yourself to stay still as he approached.
"What are we doing?" You forced the question from your throat, trying to distract yourself from the hulking figure moving closer.
"Ground defence."
Your heart seized in your chest.
"I don't want to do this," you said as calmly as you could. Your pulse climbed rapidly as König's gaze softened.
"I know," he murmured. "But neither of us has a choice."
You didn't give a fuck about him or his choices. You couldn't care less whether he was here of his own volition or if he'd been ordered to take care of your training; you only cared about the fact that he was twice your size and had nearly murdered you once before.
You couldn't believe that Price was allowing this.
Betrayal stung in your chest.
Actually, what you really couldn't believe was how this cunt was even allowed to be here.
Clearly, you were dispensable.
Maybe you had overestimated your importance to the team, maybe you had misunderstood the bond between you all. You'd been replaced by your own aggressor and Price had allowed it.
Clearly, you hadn't meant as much as you thought to the 141.
“Birdy.”
You jumped, tripping backward into the bench behind you. You stared wide-eyed at König who was equally as startled by your reaction.
“What?”You snapped, straightening up as though nothing had happened, as though he hadn’t almost frightened you out of your skin.
He hesitated before continuing, the side eye he shot you was clearly one of concern. Disgusting. “I need you to lie on your stomach.”
“No.” The word fell from your mouth before you’d even realized it.
König raised a single brow. “You want this to happen again?”
He gestured at your swollen cheeks, the fresh scarring from your stitches that littered your face. The man referenced you like an artist would show off their masterpiece.
“Only to you,” you said, your voice sickly sweet as you forced a bitter smile to your lips. The fluid in your cheeks felt like liquid fire beneath your skin at the movement, but the way his expression fell made the pain worth it.
“Then get on the floor so I can teach you how,” König crossed his arms, carefully schooling his features to give away nothing- but it was too late. You saw that you’d hurt him with the comment, or at least affected him enough to feel satisfied.
Your small victory gave you enough courage to lie down.
Your logic reminded you to immediately regret it.
Konig’s knee came into your vision as he knelt by your prone body. You couldn’t see his upper body, you couldn’t see where his hands were. He made no noise to indicate what he was going to do and your spine seized along our back.
You didn’t want to do this.
Not again.
“König,” you rasped, pressing your hands into the floor. “König, I don’t want to do this.”
Your breath was too fast, you felt like you were channelling air in through your mouth just to be sent right back out. It was as though you were rapidly suffocating, not getting any oxygen to fill your lungs, the room spinning from where you lay.
“Birdy, you need this,” König reminded you from above. The words sounded distant and muffled like someone had placed their hands over your ears and spoken softly.
You gasped loudly as the man behind you straddled your back, the mass of his body resting against the lower half of your extremely fragile spine. You wanted to buck and kick and scream until he was forced off of you but your mouth was dry and words evaded you.
“I want to teach you how to spin onto your back first,” König said, his hands resting lightly on your shoulders. “You can’t win from your stomach.”
You couldn’t win on your back either.
“No,” you said firmly, twisting experimentally from beneath him. “No, get off. I’m not doing this.”
There was a sharp sigh from behind you and instead of moving from his position, König began applying pressure. Your chest sunk into the ground as he leant just a fraction of his weight onto your body.
“Then get me off.”
The floor was hard against your body, it felt like your ribs were collapsing from beneath you. You could barely breathe as it was and now you were gasping like a fish out of water. There were so many things he could do to you from this position, so many ways he could torture you and you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself.
You tried to press upwards with your hands in an attempt to relieve the pressure from your chest. It was fruitless considering the 130 kilograms of muscle pressing your face into the floor, but you tried again. Then again.
You were beginning to sweat, your palms slipping on the floor. Your arms shook from the exertion and you could feel your resolve slipping, your control spiralling from your grasp.
“Get the fuck off me,” you wheezed, that same ugly pressure clawing its way up your ribs and into your throat. “König, I’m serious. Get off.”
“Listen to me and I’ll teach you how to get out of this yourself,” König’s voice was firm. There was no room to argue, the bite in his tone enough to put the fear of God into you. “Pull your knee up beside you, slide forward to get up onto your knees and roll me off to the side.”
You followed his instruction, forcing yourself to breathe as evenly as you could. Your skin burned where he touched, your body screaming at his presence atop of you.
Get him off, off, off.
The weight of his body eased as he let you perform the maneuver. He was too heavy and you were too tired to pull that move off without his help, but you didn’t care anymore. You’d do anything for him to get the fuck away from you, you’d do anything for him to never touch you again.
Konig rested his weight back down, straddling your hips as you lay on your back now, facing upward.
The exact same position of that night.
Your breathing picked up and your hands began to tremble. The sensation of excess adrenaline flooding your body, a feeling that you were familiar with, rendering you shaking but incapacitated.
The hood was on his face again and his eyes were wild and manic. You’d never seen that look in a mans eyes before, you knew then that he was going to kill you. The emerald glint of his psychotic glare was all that you could see. It was so dark and he was so fast, you weren’t able to predict his moves because you couldn’t fucking see them. He was a shadow, he was death incarnate. Your body was on fire, your lungs screaming from within your chest.
The monster’s eyes drifted to your chest and you followed his gaze. The handle of a knife jutted from above your breast bone and you snap your eyes back to his. Blood sprayed in the space between the both of you as he twisted the knife in your chest. You’d forgotten the noise that it had made, your punctured lung sucking air from the bloody wound with a wet gasp.
König’s eyes were hard as he reached for your face, fingers outstretched and closing in across your vision.
Not again.
Not again.
“Birdy!”
You bucked, you heaved, you fought off his grip. You knew what was going to happen, you knew what came next. This time, your brain matter would be smeared across the floor, this time he would finish you off.
You clawed at the fingers wrapped across your face desperately, trying to draw enough blood for him to flinch away. You ripped at his skin as hard as you could manage, screaming against his palm.
“Birdy, stop!”
Nothing was working, nothing could stop him. You dragged your nails across his fingers, driving them into the divots of his cuticles in an attempt to deglove his skin from bone.
“Jesus Christ, get a fucking sedative!”
When König smashed your head into the concrete, you were grateful for the darkness that ensued.
You didn’t have that privilege last time.
____
The first sense you regained was smell.
And, by God, did you fucking hate that smell.
The scent of disinfectant flooded your olfactory system so viciously that you were forced up in your seat. You scrubbed at your eyes desperately, praying to whoever the fuck was listening that you weren’t where you thought you were.
White lights flooded your vision and you cringed back into the cushions, pressing your palms into your eyes.
“Easy, Birdy. Easy.”
That familiar cockney accent served as a warning. Gloved hands tugged your fists down from your face and you tried to regain control of your breathing, eyes squeezed shut.
“Ghost?” You rasped. Your voice was barely a squeak, and you realized with a frown that you’d lost it somehow.
“Thought I’d come pay you a visit.”
You slowly attempted to regain your sight, blinking away the blurriness and the harshness of the down lights. You gingerly observed your surroundings, heart sinking to your stomach as you recognised the room.
You’d been on this bed for weeks during your recovery from the incident.
Same hospital, same room, same bed.
You felt nauseas.
Swallowing the bile threatening to make an appearance, you dragged your gaze to the seat by your bed. Ghost sat so still you could have mistaken him for a piece of furniture had you not been actively looking for him.
The man watched you carefully, his hoodie raised over his head and the balaclava perched firmly over the lower half of his features.
“When did you get back?” You asked, cringing at the broken sound of your voice. Ghost exhaled through his nose and his eyes softened under your scrutiny, an expression you’d never seen before flickering across his gaze. You were disoriented, still unsure of how he had gotten there or what you were doing there.
“Yesterday.”
You froze, eyes widening as Ghost waited for you to come to the realization.
“How long have I been in here?” You cried, the words gutted by your vocal fatigue. “What the fuck happened?”
“You need to take a breath,” Ghost leaned forward, his hand pressing lightly against your shoulder, prompting you to lay back into the cushions.
“No, you need to tell me what happened, Simon,” you reinforced, throwing a hand to your chest. You pressed against the skin, as though you could force your lungs to slow down with just a touch.
Ghost made a noise from the back of his throat, strangled and uncomfortable. You could tell that he hadn’t expected you to wake up while he was there.
“You…” And for the first time in nearly a decade, you heard Simon Riley hesitate.
Your mouth was dry as you realised the severity of what had happened, the anxiety of not knowing what you’d done ripping at your chest. Your eyes were pleading now, begging him to just come out with it, to tell you the truth.
That stormy gaze was sympathetic. It made you tremble.
“You had an incident, Birdy.” Ghost said slowly, deliberating over his words carefully. “An episode.”
“An episode?” You questioned, narrowing your gaze. “The fuck do you mean an episode?”
Ghost didn’t shift in his seat the way König did when under pressure, he didn’t fidget or bounce his leg. Simon Riley sat still like a cold-blooded creature, watching you from the darkest corner of the room with a cool, steady gaze.
“PTSD, Birdy.”
You blinked slowly.
“During your ‘training’ with that cunt,” Ghost spat the words, his eyes shifting to the side as he centred himself. “We heard your screaming as we were on the way back in.”
“We?’ You rasped, dread settling in your stomach.
“Me and Johnny,” Ghost clarified. He exhaled softly, shaking his head. “You had to be sedated, kid.”
The skin on your cheek stung sharply before you could process that bombshell. You frowned, attempting to ignore it in favour of uncovering what had happened. Ghost was never one to beat around the bush, always outright and as ‘blunt as a cunt’, in Soap’s words.
So, why was he now omitting a key part of the story?
The skin beneath your eyes stung again, this time demanding your attention. You began to sweat at the sudden severity of the pain, hands flying to your face to diagnose the issue.
Ghost moved before you could blink, striking out like a cobra. His hands gripped your wrists, keeping them from scouring over the skin. Your eyes were wide as you appraised him, bent over your bed, your hands suspended in his grip between the both of you.
Your eyes narrowed. He mimicked the expression.
You shoved at his body, ripping your hands from his hold. You needed to get to a mirror. Throwing yourself off the side of the bed, you gasped as your knees buckled from their sudden use. Simon gripped your bicep, pulling you upright with ease, but you tugged against him immediately.
“Don’t fucking touch me.”
He retracted his hand as though he’d been burned.
You stormed into the bathroom, the door smashing against the rubber stop glued to the wall. The lights flickered to life as you bashed the switch with the bottom of your closed fist.
You could have thrown up.
Gauze pads covered both your cheeks, stained pink from what you realized was blood. Your face was bleeding. A whimper fell from your lips as you reached for the dressing, peeling it slowly from your skin. Your mouth fell open at the slow reveal of what hid beneath the gauze.
A strangled cry ripped from your throat.
Claw marks.
Jagged, deep wounds, tearing down the length of your face; raw, bleeding and fresh.
You couldn’t breathe.
Distantly, you could see Ghost standing behind you in the mirror, his gaze solemn and his hands clenched. You couldn’t ask the question, couldn’t form the words but you didn’t have to. Simon had understood you back when you were eating from a straw, your eyes so puffy you couldn’t open them for days.
His hand came to rest on your shoulder, the only comfort he could offer as you stared at your mangled reflection, yet again.
“You were screaming for him to get off,” Ghost began, his fingers tightening against your burning skin. “The fucker was standing next to me.”
Blood dribbled down the distinct lines engraved into your flesh, tracing the length of your throat and disappearing down your hospital gown. The both of you watched it trail your prickled skin, but you couldn’t move, suspended in time and trapped with the image before you.
Simon’s voice was barely a whisper when he spoke.
“You thought his hands were on your face.”
_____
____
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Please tell me if you'd like to be added or taken off x
You have no idea how excited I got when I saw you posted about Aemond Targaryen requests ❤️ can I request a. story with him and reader Where he gets jealous. Like a Lord from a different house keeps trying to get her hand in marriage. Also the reader grew up in castle and has been his best friend since babies.
A/N: so I slightly diverted from the request, but the overall premise is pretty much the same :) hope you enjoy
Summary: Aemond and the reader have been best friends since childhood, however Y/N’s desire to find a husband awakens extreme jealousy in the prince, making him realize his feelings for her. But what if it’s too late?
Warnings: Angst, Jealousy, Fluff end
Growing up, Aemond never really had any friends. It made perfect sense to him, he was a prince above all and after years of putting up with his brother’s and nephews’ cruel pranks, he had long ago stopped trusting most people. However lady Y/N was a rare exception, the daughter of a northern lord who had sent her as a lady in waiting to princess Helaena, in hopes of her finding a noble husband, when the day comes.
During those years by the chance of fate Y/N had grown very close to the younger prince. She’d be the first to console him after the numerous times his brother would try to humiliate him and when he lost his eye, Y/N would sneak into his chambers every night to tell him stories until he’d fall asleep, much to the disapproval of her septa. Even Queen Alicent, soon after the incident, grew fond of the northern girl, who was always by Aemond's side. Like any mother would, she found comfort in the thoughts that her beloved son had someone to care for him.
Years had passed, despite the loss of his eye, the younger prince had grown into a dangerous swordsman and Y/N had flowered into a beautiful young maiden, still full of hope and dreams. And though the two couldn't spend as much time together, they still deeply cared for each other.
It was a bright sunny day in King’s Landing and Y/N was accompanying princess Helaena on her daily walk through the lavish gardens. The girls were so caught up in their sweet talks that they almost didn’t notice the two silver haired princes approaching them.
“Ah there you are, dear sister. Excited for the upcoming feast in honor of your wedding with Aegon, I assume” Aemond smirked at Helaena, making his brother scoff at the reminder.
“Gods, the wedding” Y/N beamed “I wonder when will my turn come, what if I meet someone at the feast”
Suddenly Aemond’s whole demeanor dropped, those words struck him like an arrow. Of course like any young lady, Y/N would dream of meeting her future husband, he knew that day would eventually come, but for so many years he had subconsciously chosen to ignore these thoughts.
It was the day of Helaena and Aegon’s wedding. Earlier that day, Y/N had helped the princess ready herself. While she was gently placing the ornate garments on Helaena frame, Y/N couldn’t help but let her imagination wander to the day of her own wedding. Ever since a child, she had dreamed of that moment, but as the years went by, her hopes of it coming to fruition were slowly fading away. Not long ago she had come of age and yet not a single marriage proposal or even an attempt at courting had come upon her. Aemond was like her shadow, the only man she had spoken to and his presence seemed to prove effective in scaring any possible suitors away.
This night, however, Y/N was determined to find herself a betrothed, she had to, or her impatient father would soon marry her off to some old cruel northern lord in hopes for an alliance. She carefully picked up the dress Queen Alicent had sent her, it was a deep emerald green color with delicate gold embroidery across the bodice. Y/N smiled to herself, having grown up without her mother, made her really grateful for having Alicent by her side.
The royal wedding was a grandiose affair, tables lavishly decorated with exotic flowers and the finest gold cutlery. Nobles from the far east and highborns from all across the seven kingdoms had come to pay their respects. It was clear that the queen wanted this event to be remembered.
Y/N sat in awe of the scenery before her, indulging in the stories of the foreign ladies sitting beside her, that’s when she noticed Aemond, standing by one of the decorated pillars and she could swear he was stealing glances at her. Oh how she wanted to go and talk with him, her closest friend, but Y/N knew that if she did, all her chances of finally finding a suitor would be damned.
“Care for a dance, my lady” Y/N was suddenly shaken from her thoughts. A man with golden curls and piercing green eyes was extending his hand to her. ‘A Lannister, perhaps’ she thought to herself. The maiden happily accepted his offer, it looked like luck was at last upon her.
She spent the whole night dancing and talking to the Lannister lord, she quite enjoyed his company, though she had to admit none of it could compare to the company of her prince. What she didn’t know, however, was that throughout her whole time with the lord, Aemond was staring daggers at them. The one eyed prince couldn’t explain it, but a burning rage was building up inside him. The sight of another man touching Y/N, his Y/N was so antagonizing, he hadn’t noticed how strongly he was gripping the handle of his sword, oh how he wanted to slice it through the golden bastard. He was trying to keep his composure, but once he saw the couple heading outside to the gardens, he could no longer contain himself, he got up and followed them, anger mixed with jealousy clouding his vision.
The night sky was clear, thousands of stars glistening like diamonds. Y/N was beaming, walking by the lion, smiling and talking about her dreams of the future. This fairytale moment, however, was shortly cut by no other than the dragon prince himself, her Aemond.
“Y/N, come, let’s go” he scowled, looking her directly in the eyes. But before the puzzled girl was able to respond, the Lannister man stepped forward “And why should she listen to you? As far as I’ve heard, she’s not your betrothed, she does not belong to you” he laughed.
These words awoke a whole new level of rage in the young prince, furious, he took out his sword and pointed it at the man’s chest, making Y/N let out a frightened squeal “Aemond, don’t” she pleaded.
“You know who I am, don’t you, you pest” the prince hissed at the lion, without putting down his weapon. “Dare you say another word, none of your Lannister gold will be able to save your life from my dragon” this threat undoubtedly scared the man as he turned around and headed back to the feast, without a word.
“Why? Why did you do this” Y/N whispered on the verge of tears. “I thought you were my friend, I thought you wanted me to be happy”
“Come, let’s go inside” Aemond sighed, taking her hand in his.
“NO” the girl protested “All these years I’ve been by your side, I’ve done everything for you to be happy and this is what you do to me? All I wanted was just to be happy!”
“He doesn't deserve you, he is NOT the one for you” the prince snapped.
“Oh, and who is then? Some old ugly lord, that my father is going to marry me off to and-” her words were suddenly cut off by a soft pair of lips on top of hers. Y/N was caught completely off guard, memories of their childhood flooding back, but it didn’t take her long to return the kiss, instantly clasping her hands around his neck. That kiss was full of longing, it was a release for all these feelings they’ve had developed for each other throughout the many years. It now all made perfect sense to Y/N, all these years she had spent imagining her future spouse, too scared to think of the one she truly desired, her dragon, her Aemond.
Once out of breath, they pulled away, resting their foreheads together.
“Me, you belong to me” Aemond whispered, gently caressing her cheek.
Kaz Brekker and Mutual Ma$terba$tion.
If you’re tagged it’s simply because I copied the tag list for Kaz.
(If you’d like to not be tagged in future smutty/spicy Kaz fics, please let me know!)
Description: 3.6k wc, smut/spicy fic with Kaz. Cannon Kaz, still has a touch aversion but finds himself and his girlfriend needing release so they compromise by verbally guiding the other while they be each other’s hands. (Kaz style aftercare featured)
Warnings: sexual content, mentions of touch aversions (anxiety & related notes), 18+ Only, cursing
Kaz crumpled yet another piece of paper and tossed it to the side, still unable to collect his thoughts.
The heist went sideways hours ago and he hadn’t been able to figure out why or how he should’ve been able to prevent it.
It had never taken him this long before, he was usually done within a few minutes and spent the rest of the night sulking.
Meaning it really shouldn’t take him long tonight since it was only a minor deviation and not much of a set back.
He should’ve been able to figure this out hours ago.
However, y/n had never not been in his office after a night like this.
Kaz sensed things were tense between them lately but since he didn’t know why he elected to let it blow over.
As he sat alone in his messy office tonight, he regretted that decision.
Clearly that was another plan he made that failed.
Begrudgingly he rose from his desk, bracing himself on his cane as he walked to the door.
If she wasn’t coming to him, he’d go to her.
Kaz lingered outside her door as his mind raced to find the best way to greet her.
She was already mad, but he didn’t know why and therefore which side of him would be most helpful here.
If he let Kaz Rietveld greet her and she’d been mad about one of his triggers or weaknesses that would make it worse.
Not that y/n ever got upset let alone mad over that, but Kaz anxiously awaited the day he felt was inevitable.
If he let Dirtyhands Brekker greet her and she was mad he’d been too distant or mundane it would surely piss her off more.
He sighed, annoyed at himself for even allowing himself to get so attached to her that he cared about these things.
Kaz tapped his cane against her door twice and awaited a response.
He heard some shuffling around before y/n opened the door for him.
Her hair was a bit disheveled from seemingly running her hands through it, but it was clear she’d tried to fix it before opening the door.
“Love,” he greeted briefly, the versions of himself compromising.
She smiled nervously at him which made him sigh.
“May I?” He asked, tipping the crow’s head end of his cane in the direction of her bedroom chambers.
A room in which she rarely ever was, having usually been sleeping in his room while he worked.
Kaz watched her throat tighten as she swallowed before nodding.
He took inventory of her room, the way he would any room he’d stepped into where he felt unsure of his surroundings.
He’d been in here before but tonight he was unsure where he stood with her and hoped the room would provide him some clues.
Y/n’s bedding was wrinkled and the poorly made bed was evidence she’d futilely tried tucking the sheets back into place before letting him in.
Kaz tightened his grip on the crow’s head, despising himself for whatever he did that prompted her to chose to sleep here instead.
Sure it was her room, but he couldn’t recall the last time she’d actually slept in it.
“Kaz…” she mumbled, standing a solid distance away, “you look like you have something on your mind”.
Kaz pressed his lips into a tight line as he turned to face her, but was unable to look into her eyes and ask his question, “are you mad at me?”.
Her silence caused him to turn his gaze upwards from the floor and to her face.
He watched the shocked look on her face turn to confusion before she shook her head, “No Kaz. I’m not mad at you”.
“Y/n, do not lie to me” he grumbled.
“I’m not” she sighed.
He stared at her and took a step closer to her, noticing how her body tensed when he did, “you’ve been distancing yourself from me. Yet, you claim you are not mad?”
Y/n quickly looked to the far wall as if one of her pinned up photos was suddenly more interesting than this conversation.
Yet, in a whispered voice she still spoke, “I’m not mad, Kaz”.
Kaz squinted, taking a step back to create more distance for her, “are you afraid of me then?”
She snapped her head towards him, a concoction of confusion, shock, anger, and guilt storming her face, “of course not!”
“Then tell me” he ordered, closing his eyes for half a second to compose himself, “if you’re not suddenly scared of me, tell me why you are distancing from me if you’re not mad”.
“I…I’m… not mad… I umm.. I’m..” she mumbled, biting her lip.
Kaz gave her a concerned look and took a cautious step towards her again, continuing when she didn’t look away.
“You’re not mad, but you are… what?” He asked calmly, a foot from her now.
“Frustrated” she whispered.
“What?” He repeated, not sure he heard her correctly.
“Frustrated!” She blurts loudly, looking away and pulling in her hair, “I’m frustrated, Kaz”.
“Frustrated is synonymous to mad, love” Kaz sighed harshly.
“Not that way” she said, shifting her gaze around rapidly.
“I don’t und-“ he stopped, realization hitting him.
He’d read the signs wrong.
Her hair wasn’t a mess due to running her hands through it out of anger.
His eyes shifted to her bed.
The bedsheets weren’t wrinkled and a mess because she’d been sleeping in them.
“Were you just touching yourself?” Kaz asked, the tension in the room thickening.
He noticed she refused to look at him, so he gently tapped her toe with the bottom of his cane.
She still didn’t look at him but nodded minimally.
Kaz felt his face heat up and an uncomfortable feeling form in his body at her confession.
Well, it wasn’t the feeling that was uncomfortable, it was the knowledge he couldn’t act on it.
The knowledge that he’d found himself needing sexual relief on numerous occasions with relation to her and not being able to act on it due to his touch aversion.
He hated that he put her in that same position and also that he couldn’t offer either of them the release they both needed and desired.
The biggest irritation he had with his aversion was that his body still held the capacity for desire and sexual attraction but he couldn’t act on it.
He hated that he wanted more than anything to be able to take her here and now but the thought also made him nauseous.
“Show me” Kaz said faintly, his brain body desperate for a compromise.
“What?” She squeaked, her eyes finally landing on his dark and fully dilated pupils.
“Show me what you like” he repeated, taking a slow step towards her bed.
“Kaz, what?” She asked breathlessly as her eyes widened.
He looked at the ground in guilt, “I cannot give you what you want”.
Y/n began to interrupt but he held his gloved hand up to signal her to stop.
“But, I’d like to see what it is you want” He said, his voice shaking.
He wasn’t sure he could handle this.
Sure she’d be touching herself, not him touching her.
But, he felt he might combust watching her get herself off by doing things to herself he could only dream of doing to her one day.
“Kaz. We don’t have to do this” She offered kindly, sensing his nervousness.
“I want to. I want to watch. Touch yourself for me. Be my hands” Kaz declared, his pants already feeling tighter as he admitted this desire.
Y/n took a shaky breath but nodded and made her way to the bed, unceremoniously crawling onto it.
She wasn’t opposed to it, but she knew intimacy was intense for Kaz and she didn’t want to push.
Y/n bit her lip as Kaz moved to stand beside her bed, as close as he’d allow himself to be.
“Kaz, I know this is really vulnerable for you, so we can take this as slow as you need and stop whenever. You’re in control here, okay?” She promised, staring into his eyes.
Kaz’s eyes softened for a moment -as he offered her a small smile and nodded-, before they shifted back to their dark state with a recently displayed lust tinting them.
He’d seen her naked before, having changed in front of him countless times at this stage in their relationship, but this was different; for both of them.
She felt her heart quicken, her hands trembling with nerves as she shyly started to lower her pants once again.
“Love, don’t be nervous, if you need, I’ll guide you through it. Just be my hands” Kaz heard himself state, surprising them both.
Y/n took a deep breath of air and nodded rapidly.
Kaz smirked, his eyes closing lustfully as he let them both catch their breath before beginning.
When he opened them, his pupils dilated again seeing she’d stripped out of her pants and panties, her lower half now fully exposed to him.
“Fuck” he breathed out, letting a rare curse slip.
She blushed but kept her eyes on his with a small smile on her lips.
“Shirt” he said, clarifying when his request was met with confusion, “your top too”.
Y/n smirked at him as she slowly removed her shirt to display her bare breasts before him, practically making him hard right away.
He swallowed thickly, adjusting his stance awkwardly, “you are perfect”.
Kaz learned long ago she loved him complimenting her and while he’d let that vulnerable side of him out more often since that discovery, this was new.
He’d reassured her how beautiful she was the first time he’d seen her naked body, needing to help her patch up a cut on her rib and thigh after a heist.
But this, this time, she was laying here before him, not because she was hurt or getting ready for bed.
Instead, she was all but presenting herself to him; a vulnerable and important moment for them both.
Kaz stared into her eyes, making sure she was comfortable with what they were about to do.
When he felt confident she was, he shut his eyes and softly said, “show me what you were doing”.
She nodded, looking down at her waist, her hand moving towards her center.
Y/n gazed off into space as she slowly ran her pointer finger down her pubic mound towards her lips.
Kaz eyes fixed on her finger, wanting so badly for it to be his own touching her that way.
He took a shaky breath at the thought of his son on her’s making her immediately stop and stare at him with concern.
He shook his head to calm her worries, “Don’t stop. Just, talk to me during it”.
She nodded, remembering how he’d cling to the sound of her voice when anxious.
“So,” she said with a breathy shyness, “ when I find myself needing a release, I start with this”.
Kaz focused on her voice and explanation while his eyes studied her demonstration and instructions with such intensity it was as if her pleasure were a heist he must successfully complete.
After a few minutes Kaz had become more comfortable and realized the bulge in his pants was already a step ahead of him.
He blindly reached for her desk chair, knowing he should sit.
But he couldn’t find it without looking away from her, and he wasn’t able to do that.
Kaz stared as her thighs clenched together, firmly trapping her hand between them.
"Spread your legs. I want to see how turned on I make you” he said, looking from her seized legs to her dazed eyes.
Her lips parted slightly as she complied, her hand now being the only thing blocking his view of her full anatomy.
“More” he said, his deep voice betraying his pleading, as did his gloved hand faintly placed on her closest knee.
“I love hearing you moan” Kaz blurted, pressing his hand firmly against his throbbing shaft through his pants.
She looks at him through hooded eyes, the fingers on her left hand still inserted into herself.
“Curl your finger” Kaz advised, an idea forming in his mind.
Y/n smirked lazily at his newly formed scheming face as she followed his suggestion.
“No, no, your ring finger” he corrected, his piercing eyes that were frozen on her swollen and flushed bare skin around her vulva, unsatisfied with the choice she made.
“Oh saints!” She cried out, her head slamming back into her bed aggressively.
Kaz felt his dick twitch as he proudly relished in her loud moans and watched her hips lift off the bedsheets.
“Mmm, that’s it, good girl” Kaz said, his voice dark.
Y/N’s eyes flitted closed as she twirled her hooked finger around inside of her walls, trying to not be so loud as she didn’t want to risk the others hearing.
“Mmm, come on darling” he whined, “let me hear you.”
She stirred slightly before pushing her fingers in deeper, moaning pleasurably as her vaginal opening stretched even more.
“That’s it” he grinned, his sight clouding a bit as he unconsciously began stroking his length through his dress pants, “I want to hear you say my name”.
Y/n needed a moment, so she slowly pulled her now soaking wet fingers from her vagina and rested her hand on her stomach, smirking at him.
“You what?” She teased, pretending she couldn’t hear his request.
His vision cleared as he lightly glared at her, “you heard me”.
She hummed, dancing her fingers tauntingly over her exposed skin from her neck down to her hips, “I don’t know that I did… Kaz”.
Kaz’s head snapped to the side quickly, his hand reaching out and pulling the desk chair to him.
He sat down just as his knees threatened to buckle from the tension between his legs and the sight of y/n sprawled teasingly before him.
Kaz knew he wasn’t going to win this, especially in his current state, so he repeated himself, “I need to hear you say my name”.
She smirked at him, “Kaz”.
He threw his head back in frustration with so much force he was surprised the chair didn’t break under him, “you know what I mean”.
Y/n loved seeing him like this, over her.
So she decided to drag it out a bit more, smiling innocently as she asked, “no, can you elaborate what it is you need me to do, Kaz?”.
Kaz clenched his jaw, returning his head to its normal position and watching the devilish glimmer in her eyes, “don’t push it, you’re the one who needed this. I can leave any moment”.
Y/n saw through his bluff, tilting her head sideways as she pushed her self up until her arms were supporting her back and half raised position.
“Kaz, honey, you can pretend all you want” she winks, bringing her still wet fingers up to her face and tracing the outline of her lips, “but I can see the mess you're making of yourself”.
He froze in confusion, following her gaze as she stared at his lap.
Kaz felt his cheeks double in temperature as he saw he’d practically ruined his dress pants.
The material now wet and clinging to him.
He closed his eyes and sighed.
“It’s okay Kaz, but I don’t think you’re quite done” she whispered sweetly, “why don’t I help you?”
Kaz stared up at her, his eyes soft but jaw tense, “I-… I can’t… yet.. I-“.
She shook her head, “I’m not going to touch you honey, I promise”.
He nodded appreciatively.
“You wanted me to moan your name?” She asked delicately.
He forced a weak glare making her laugh softly, “I can do that. But first, remove your pants”.
Kaz hesitated for a moment before standing enough to lower them to the floor.
“Now your underwear, the poor things are very clearly in both of our ways” she added, Kaz sighing tranquilly as he pushed the hem of his underwear towards the ground and let his penis fly upwards when it was free.
“Now, cup one hand around yourself, from underneath” y/n said, her gaze never leaving his erection.
Kaz obeyed, shivering as his cold leather glove wrapped around his length.
Y/n moaned lightly, Kaz’s eyes jumping to watch as her fingers walked down her bare body to her clit.
“With the other, rub the tip” she whispered seductively.
Kaz didn’t hesitate to do so and mirrored her moans with his own as he did.
“Look at me” Kaz rasped as her gaze has shifted to her waist.
“Oh, fu-“ y/n sighed, the knot in her stomach growing.
Kaz clenched his jaw more tightly as he continued masterbating as she had requested, but secretly trying not to climax yet.
He was fairly certain the leather in his gloves was going to cause his shaft to be raw by the end of the night but he couldn’t care less.
“Cum for me” he ordered sharply, not sure how much longer he could resist his release.
Y/n sensed his predicament and puckered her lips to blow him a kiss, “just let go Kaz”.
Kaz shook his head, but as she resumed circling her clit he found his resistance weaning.
“More pressure” he advised her, having made mental note of what seemed to work best for her earlier in the night.
“Ka-Kaz,” she moaned, her eye lids fluttering as she pushed her thumb harder against her clitoris.
At that, Kaz’s self preservation disintegrated in an instant.
“Oh” he moaned, his voice breathy, “fuck”.
He threw his head back, his neck bending as the back of his head rested between his shoulder blades.
“Don’t stop doing what I taught you. You’re being my hands, remember? Keep moving” She ordered, a smirk painting her tone.
“Y-y/n” Kaz shakingly mumbled, his eyes glazed over, “fuck, you’re… fuck”.
Kaz was certain it was the least intelligible thing he’d ever spoken but the bliss he felt kept him from caring.
He wiped the white cream from himself and the bedspread next to her, too relaxed to be embarrassed over the mess he made and how vulnerable he was.
“Shit, Kaz” she groaned, her lips curling at the ends as she watched him.
“Cum for me” he repeated his earlier request.
Y/n chuckled softly, tiredly bringing her hand back down to her wet lips.
“Kaz” she moaned softly, her eyes glimmering as she held eye contact with him.
Kaz smiled faintly, lifting his cane.
He delicately tapped the side of the crow’s beak to y/n’s swollen clitoris twice before lowering his cane back to the floor.
She shivered at the cold sensation before her eyes darkened as she looked back over at him.
He nodded with a smirk on his lips, “keep your eyes open and on me”.
Y/n silently obeyed, her fingers picking up their pace.
Kaz’s smirk grew as he watched her desire increase.
He intentionally ran a hand through his hair, having been clued in that it was a turn on for her.
She grinned and shook her head weakly, letting him know she knew what he was doing.
Triggering another turn on, Kaz held eye contact with her as he smirked more before licking his lip, “so unfathomably irresistible”.
Kaz lips shifted into a cocky grin as she loudly whimpered his name, her back arching towards the ceiling and legs trembling.
“That’s it darling, just keep being my hands” he encouraged, watching as she softly stroked herself as she rode out her orgasm.
“While I must point out that we could have started this much earlier had you not hid, I do prefer the location” Kaz stated, handing her a towel from her dresser.
“Oh?” She asked, her voice still faint from her climax.
“It means I don’t need to clean my sheets” he smirked teasingly.
She scoffed, feigning offense.
“Hmm, well, I suppose we’ll see if the door will be unlocked next time or not” she teased, delicately cleaning herself up.
Kaz squinted at her as he pulled his trousers back up.
“Fine, I can begin washing my sheets” he complied.
“You haven’t been washing them?!” She gasped, wanting to smack his shoulder.
Kaz chuckled, a laugh he’d only allow the person currently before him to ever hear, “Of course I’ve cleaned them; you sweat in your sleep”.
Y/n’s jaw dropped as she stared at him in shock, somehow mortified over the idea of her sleep sweating in his bed, despite what just happened in here between them.
Kaz laughed loudly, his dimples showing as he shook his head, “darling, it was a joke. You’re perfect”.
Y/n placed the towel on the other side of her, turning to face Kaz as she tugged on her blanket.
He smiled tenderly at her - another behavior only she’d witness- before standing to help pull her blanket over her body the way she wanted.
His gloved hands were sure to never touch her skin during the act.
But, as he set the fabric over her bare chest, he sucked in a deep breath before he slid his gloved fingers under her arm to tuck in the blanket.
He’d touched her skin more directly than that by now, but after the intensity of the moment immediately prior, he didn’t want to risk ruining the intimate moment they shared by taking a chance.
She smiled up at him, her body relaxed and eyes heavy.
Kaz nodded as he sat back down in his chair.
“Kaz” She whispered, waiting until he nodded again for her to continue.
“Do I swear in my sleep?” She asked, making him laugh again.
He rolled his eyes, “I honestly would not know. It’s my obsessive need to stick to a routine that prompts me to wash our sheets, not you “.
Her shoulders lowered as she nodded happily, “okay. So your room next time?”.
Kaz smirked, resting his gloved palm a few centimeters from her arm, “as long as you’ll continue to be my hands for now, we can do whichever room”.
“If you’ll be my hands taking care of you, I’ll be yours” y/n promised, grinning tiredly at him.
Kaz nodded in agreement, “the deal is the deal. Now, rest”.
Y/n grinned at him once more before letting her eyes close, peacefully falling asleep. 
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@directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r ( @chewiethecatus for this one only as it was for your request)
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."
Hello!! Would you be able to write a request for finnick? Just like he’s the capitols darling, reader is the capitals hound dog. Known to be fiercely protective and exceptionally violent and brutal. During the third quarter quell, katniss’ group is afraid of reader because they haven’t seen her all match, but they run into her and she defends them brutally against something? Sorry I know it’s specific:) love your writing!
finnick odair x reader
synopsis: his focus was protecting katniss, but he sleeps with an eye open as long as you’re still out there..
a/n: i made some changes, jus go with it lmao
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
“she’s still out there, katniss.” finnick had made this pointedly to katniss, who wanted to go out hunting for the remaining victors with johanna. you were shrouded in mystery, out of all the victors, finnick knew the least about you.
“where would she be?” peeta looked at finnick, who sighed, shrugging, “the arena is different than the arena she won in, i assume somewhere low to the ground-“ finnick sweeped the beach, eye catching on a rustle in the bush, straight across from them, “and close.” he remembered now how you had won your games.
you had tracked all the tributes like prey, manipulating their surroundings to kill them, it had been one of the most invigorating games for the capitol ever. “she’s a bloodhound, probably sniffed us out before we realized.”
johanna watched the area that finnick had saw you, but still offered her commentary, “she’s brutal, katniss.”
katniss looked at them all, surrounded by skilled people yet found herself doubting their abilities, especially her own. none of them were sure they’d win, not against her.
“the careers are the least of our worries with her out there.” peeta noted. finnick looked at him and shrugged, “she might just kill them herself.”
they knew getting back on the island was a bad idea. katniss ducked at the sound of a mysterious voice, feeling as something flew past her head, stabbing cashmere right in the chest.
“get up.” katniss looked up to see you, standing over her. you had an array of weapons on you, and you were reaching for another one. katniss felt the panic in her throat until you launched it at enobaria, who had thrown herself at katniss. “get up!” your voice sounded more frantic and katniss did, struggling from keeping her eyes off of you.
suddenly the island began to spin.
your grip was loosening, and you groaned with slight fear as you felt the cold water thundering against your feet. katniss reached out for you, “grab my hand!” she screamed, but the water trashing drowned her out.
you could see her hand amidst all the water and grabbed it tightly, closing your eyes as the island slowed to a stop.
you sat on the beach, alone as the others argued over you. katniss had defended you, deciding she wanted you as an ally. but finnick and johanna deemed it too risky, “she could kill us all in our sleep, then what?” johanna had made that point as one of your methods, and you inhaled sharply.
finnick glanced at you, noticing the solemn expression on your face. he had known that expression far too many times, and it made him change his mind.
“johanna.” finnick called her name and sighed, “she saved her life. that’s not something we can just ignore, we don’t even know her.”
there was silence between them all, katniss had looked to johanna, watching as she fought internally before giving in. “i’ll go get her, maybe threaten a little.” she stood up, taking her axe with her.
finnick looked to katniss as johanna left, “i’ll keep an eye on her. for you.” he knew that once katniss settled on allies, she settled. her choices weren’t always the best, but somehow it would work itself out.
“why did you save her?” finnick had taken the first watch with you. johanna had convinced him, as just having you as watch would be ‘asking for it’.
you shrugged, “why not.” there hadn’t been much decision making on the island. it was either her or cashmere, and you didn’t see much of a choice.
finnick looked at you, “i don’t believe that.” his eyes slid themselves back to stare at the beach and you scoffed, “and why is that?”
finnick shrugged, “no one would just randomly save someone without an ulterior motive.” he said it like a fact and you smirked, “do you have one?”
“have one what?” he looked confused, obvious by the furrow in his brow.
“do you have an ulterior motive?” you repeated the full length question and watched as finnick practically whipped his head around.
“no.” he stated plainly, and you rolled your eyes, “i saw you saved katniss, similiar to how i did. you and johanna can’t just be doing this,” you glanced back to katniss and peeta sleeping, “for nothing. whatever it is, finnick, is an ulterior motive.” finnick pursed his lips, almost as if he couldn’t believe it.
“i’ll let you have yours if you let me have mine.” you finished, catching his gaze. finnick knew there were layers to you. you were different than most victors, your brutality is what made you like the rest of them, the willingness to kill. but you were turning out to be way more than what meets the eye. whatever your motive was, finnick sensed it wasn’t malice.
finnick settled to watch the sun rise upon your face, ending the conversation with a nod.
finnick watched as you sat by the beach. it had been post jabberjays, you, him and katniss had all been trapped with the birds, fluttering and screaming your names. now it seemed, like you had decided to decompress by the beach, just as he was going to.
he piled up next to you, close but far enough to give you a good amount of space.
it was then that finnick realized you had been crying, tears evident on your cheeks. he had heard katniss yell her sister’s name, and he had heard annie. you had just screamed in response, as if you were trying to drown out the birds with your own voice.
“i’m sorry.” you apologized to finnick, wiping your eyes as he settled down. you sniffled, watching as the waves moved.
“don’t apologize, there’s no need.” finnick spoke, “who did you hear?”
there was silence for a moment, until you spoke, “my best friend.” your mind shuddered back the sound of his screams and you laughed, painfully. “he’s been dead for years. i killed him.” you admitted, “he died because of a mistake i had made during the games.”
your mind flashed back to the games, where you had accidentally launched a knife to his chest, thinking it had been another tribute.
“he had spent all of his games searching for me. and once he found me, i had killed him.” it was cruel for him to be your district partner, for only one would survive, but you “never thought it would be me.” you glanced at finnick, who had been listening.
“it was supposed to be him.” you cried, “i killed everyone else to get to him, and when it was down to four, was when he came to get me.” you shook your head, “there is nothing in this world that i loved more than him, finnick. now that he’s gone, there’s nothing left for me.”
finnick shook his head, “stop. you know that’s not true.” he tried to comfort you, your words mirroring his own thoughts.
“that’s my motive, finnick.” you revealed, “my body is a cage, and i can’t stand to live in it much longer.”
johanna had woken up abruptly. she clutched onto her weapon, eyes glancing around before she settled on the two figures on the beach. she squinted and made out finnick’s hair, and you. the only two missing from the group. you had your head leaned on finnick’s shoulder, as the two of you watched the rising sun.
Catie speaks the truth.
Josh Hutcherson as Mike Schmidt Five Nights At Freddy’s (2023) dir. Emma Tammi
Stuck with a God | Loki Laufeyson
// Pairing // Loki Laufeyson x Agent!Female!Reader
// Summary // Loki gets imprisoned by Shield and he loves flirting with you. As much as he annoys you, even more does the Shield technology annoy you.
// Wordcount // 2.488
// Warnings // Explicit Content // 18+, Minors DNI, smut, kind of enemies to lovers, being stuck with Loki, bit of dub-con, fingering, squirting, CMNF, finger sucking / cum eating kinda, bit of housewife kink, praises
// Authors Note // This is my first time writing for Loki, so thanks to my amazing friend @jiyascepter for encouraging me to write for him.
// Events // Slumber Party: Sundae Bar | French Vanilla (stranded, looked in) and Black Cherry (Enemies to lovers) | @the-slumberparty | Bingo of your own | N4 | Stuck together | @thebo3bingo |
// Masterlist | Loki Laufeyson //
“Darlin’! Didn’t think I would see you today,” the black-haired man says, his smirk growing as you walk closer to the cell he is in. “Want to see me again before they bring me into another cell, my dear?”
You roll your eyes, earning a chuckle from the man. Since they brought him into the cell earlier that day, he flirts with you whenever you’re around. Or at least it’s what you think he is doing; maybe he just tries to convince you to let him out and let him rule the world — something you won’t do unless your boss will force you to.
“Didn’t miss you; I just have to get something, and then I will be back doing my work,” you answer him, walking further through the room.
Loki Laufeyson, god of mischief — at least what he said — walks up and down his cell, his green eyes following every little movement.
“Oh, darling—“
“Stop that flirting and let me do my job. You’re annoying, and I’m done with you, Loki,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief about that man.
His lips are still curled up, and his eyes are glistening. As much as he annoys you, he has something that makes your knees weak — mystic and magical.
“My dear, come here. Look at me when you tell me that you’re done with me. Are you done with me, darlin’, or do you only want everyone to think that?” His voice is low, his head falling forward, and he looks up, looking even more handsome than before.
“No, don't even think that. You’re not that interesting to me,” you groan, frustrated that you’re stuck in that conversation. Too nice to just ignore him and too annoyed to continue talking to him.
“Not interesting to you? I’m Loki — god of mischief — from Asgard! Everyone wants me. Oh, that sweet maid in Asgard — you should have seen her, darling. She begged me, but she wasn’t interesting to me,” Loki says, chuckling softly at your expression.
How can he dare to tell you such an intimate story about one of the maids who is working for them? But to finally let him know that you’re not interested in his idiotic ass, you make your way closer to the entrance of the cell. Loki is grinning at you and walking in his cell to the entrance as well.
When you reach it, he places his hand against the glass, waiting for you to tell him that you’re not interested in him. His green eyes remind you of a snake, staring into yours and glistening mischievously.
“I’m not inter— How?” You almost shout at him when he is suddenly in front of you — without glass in between you. “FUCKING SHIT! How do— GO BACK INTO THE CELL!”
Loki laughs softly, his white teeth visible. His tongue darts out, and he slides it across his plump lips before closing his mouth and leaning a bit further down.
“Make me, darling. I’m a god; you think that little cell stops me from breaking out? How sweet,” he says in a teasing tone.
You place your hands immediately on his chest, feeling the muscles tensing underneath your soft touch, before you push him back into the cell. Actually, you learned to not do things like that — never touch a criminal or get too close to him — they could use it to their advantage.
A loud sound behind you makes you flinch, and you look around. The door behind you shuts, and your eyes widen when you realize that you’re stuck in a cell with the enemy. And not just one enemy; you’re stuck with Loki.
“Stay away!” You grumble, letting go of him to take a step backwards and look for your card, which opens literally every door in a shield compound. You reach your card, finally able to get out of the cell again — you just need to find out how he managed to open the door and walk out of the cell.
“Darling, don't you want to give me some company? That hurts my feelings; I thought you changed your mind and wanted to stay in that cell with me,” Loki says, his eyes still following every movement of yours while you walk to the door and press your card against the small display next to it.
His lips curl up when the door doesn’t open. You try again, pressing the card against the display again. Once again, the door stays closed, and you groan frustrated — why can’t the technology work like it should?
“Doesn’t work, darling? Do you need my help?” Loki asks, his tone teasing, and you roll your eyes once again. At some point, you’re sure you can roll your eyes all the time, but right now you’re just annoyed about the technology and him being such a dick.
“I don’t need your help! Can you just shut up for a moment?” You ask through gritted teeth. You turn around, wanting to face the black-haired man, but the cell is empty, and you wonder if he broke out once again.
You hiss and almost jump when you feel a warm breath against your neck. Long arms wrap around your waist, and a broad but small chest is suddenly pressed against your back. You can feel Loki’s nose sliding over the soft skin of your neck; a low chuckle leaves his lips when he pulls you even closer.
A shiver runs down your spine; you want to lean more into his embrace. His warmth and scent envelope you. Loki feels just so good that you want more of him and more of his touches.
“You like that, don’t you, darling?” He asks, his breath hitting your skin and causing goosebumps all over your body. It shouldn’t feel so good; you shouldn’t stay in his embrace; he shouldn’t touch you like that — Loki is still the enemy, but the two of you look now like he isn’t just that; it looks like the two of you are so much closer.
“L—Loki, let go of me. H—How did you escape here? Wh—“ You interrupt yourself when you feel his long fingers moving over your stomach, higher to your chest.
“I didn’t escape, but I told you — I’m a god, darling. I never escaped here; you opened the door with your card; you pushed just an imagination of mine into the cell. And now that you’re here with me, stuck in this cell, don’t you think we should just continue where we stopped?” Loki asks, his voice quiet, and he presses his soft lips against your neck.
You shake your head, even though you don’t feel like that. You just can’t be that close or intimate with the enemy. He grumbles behind you, pressing you even closer against his chest, and you can feel his growing bulge pressing against your ass.
Your eyes widen, pussy throbbing, but you can’t just give in to him, can you? Loki is thrusting his hips forward, chuckling against you, when a soft moan escapes your lips.
“You like that?” You nod lightly, his fingers gracing over the fabric of your t-shirt to your chest. Loki moves his hands over the swell of your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, and when you look down, your breath hitches.
His hands are so big, thin, but long fingers — they cause the most filthy thoughts you ever had. You inhale deeply. A moment later, you think about pushing him away, telling him to stop that, and that there are cameras, but you know that they won’t work when the display to unlock the cell doesn’t work either.
Loki feels you tensing in his arms; he kneads your soft breasts in his hands, causing you to throw your head back.
“N—Loki, please,” you whine, feeling his hard cock still pressing against you. He thrusts his hips forward, making you squeal. His hands are squeezing your tits more.
“Changing your attitude is exactly how I like it. What do you need, darling?” His tone is teasing. You nod your head, now knowing what to say. Loki laughs, suckling at your neck while his hands snake back to your waist. “Tell me, darlin’.”
“L—Loki, please, n-need you,” you whimper. You feel so pathetic, begging the enemy to touch you, to fuck you. His hands and his lips feel like the softest thing you have ever felt, and you need him to continue touching you. You need to know how talented those fingers are.
“Look at you, melting in the enemy's embrace, needing his fingers, don’t you?” He mocks you, laughing softly when he picks you up. He carries the two of you to the bench on the other end of the cell, sitting down before he places you in his lap.
Loki’s hands hold you in place, his hard crotch pressing against your ass, and you wiggle lightly, earning a low groan from the man behind you. His fingers are digging into your sides, pressing you further down on him to keep you still.
His lips trail along your neck once again, and he then smirks miraculously once again. And suddenly… you’re naked in his lap. Your clothes are nowhere around, and you can feel the leather of his suit underneath your sensitive skin.
“L—“
“Come on, spread those pretty legs for your favorite god, darling,” he grumbles, his fingers sliding along the inside of your thighs as he spreads your legs apart.
Loki reveals your throbbing pussy; his left hand is holding your one leg, and he squeezes your thigh, while his other hand inches closer to where you need him the most.
His long finger slides through your folds, and you moan softly, throwing your head back against his shoulder. Loki circles your clit, pinching it lightly between his fingers before he moves his long fingers further down to your entrance.
“So wet, ‘s that all for me, dalin’? Pussy’s drippin’ for me,” he says, kissing his way along your neck to your ear. His fingers coated in your arousal, he slowly pushes one finger into your entrance. You moan loudly, arching your back. Loki’s finger slips deeper into your tight pussy.
“Doing so well; look at you, sweetheart. Taking my finger like you’re made for that, aren’t you?” Loki praises you, pushing deeper into you while curling his finger. He starts pumping it in and out of you, earning soft moans and whimpers from you.
Your hands gripping his thighs, the cold leather feeling perfectly underneath your hot skin. And having him completely dressed while you’re naked turns you on beyond belief.
Lokis circles your clit with his thumb, adding another finger to your cunt. Your breath gets heavier, you rock into his hand, and the coil in your stomach tightens with every moment of his long fingers inside of you.
The black-haired man hits your sweet spot every time, the pads of his fingers sliding over it, causing an intense feeling to build up in your lower stomach. A feeling you never had before, not when you fucked yourself with a toy and never with another man.
“Doing so well, darling. Squeezing my fingers so good, can’t wait to fuck you, probably. Yeah, that’s what you like? Being fucked by a god, don’t you, darling?” Loki asks; his eyes darken lightly, but since you’re with your back toward him, you can’t see them.
“P—Please, so close. LOKI!” You almost shout; you're just about to come all over his fingers. You don’t know how you ended up in that situation, but right now you can’t care about that. Everything you want and need is Loki, his fingers curling inside of you and bringing you closer to the edge.
The sound of your wet pussy and his fingers pumping into you in a steady rhythm echoes through the cell. He speeds up, loving the way your walls cling around his fingers, sucking his thin, long fingers even deeper. “Come on, sweetheart, come all over my fingers like the good girl you are.”
With that, you do as you’re told, your pussy clenching around his fingers. Loki massages your sweet spot with his digits while you come all over his fingers. Your juices squirt all over his palm and fingers, landing on the ground of the cell.
“F—Fuck, please, keep going, please, Loki,” you beg, thrusting your hips against his hand while you ride out your orgasm.
He can’t stop his movements just now; you need him to fuck you through your orgasm — and that’s what he does. Curling his fingers steadily inside of your pulsing cunt, he thrusts slowly into you while you breathe heavily.
You have been moaning like a whore since he started to fuck you with his finger. But you don’t care; he feels too good to think properly.
“Didn’t think about it, darlin’. Doing so good for me, gonna keep you and take you with me to Asgard; make you my sweet little wife and fuck you whenever and wherever I want,” he groans, his eyes rolling slightly back when he thinks about that idea. A low moan escapes his pink lips, and he smirks. “You’re already so cock drunk, you can’t even think about it properly. Just say yes, darling.”
You nod your head, your hips still moving against this hand, while you don’t really notice what he is saying. As long as he keeps his fingers inside of you. “Yes, please.”
“Whining and begging like a pathetic little housewife, that’s what you are. My sweet little housewife.” He kisses your neck once again, sucking a purple mark into your skin. “All mine, darling, and everyone can see it.”
Even with your protests, Loki pulls his fingers out of you, holding them up to show you your arousal dripping down his fingers. You blush slightly, watching Loki bring his fingers closer to his face. You turn your head, looking at him while he takes them into his mouth, sucking and licking them clean.
“Tasting perfect, darling,” he hums more to himself before he moves his hand, and you’re suddenly dressed again.
Your eyes widen, reality hits you, and you jump off his lap. You immediately miss his warmth, a cold shiver running down your spine while you consider getting back into his lap or staying away from him. This is just a short moment, because as much as you should stay away from him, as much as you crave and need this black-haired man.
“That’s my girl. Now let’s get out of this cell and make you my pretty little housewife,” he says, smirking at you when your back is pressed against his chest once again. And just as he tells you, he is doing exactly that, making you his wife — and luckily, you’re not the only one addicted to the other one. A god can be just as addicted and craving like a human.
// Taglist // @kandis-mom @sergeantbarnessdoll @identity2212 @km-ffluv @lunaalovesyouu @armystay89 @suz7days @etherealdisneyvillainness @pono-pura-vida @somnorvos @meowmeowyoongles
No cause that scene with Kaz and inej had me watching with my jaw open!! Giggling nd kicking my feet.
i BEG YOU please listen to the full robbers trilogy in order
an encounter -> robbers -> about you
you wont be disappointed, just close your eyes with your headphones on and do it.
— 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.
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