Treacle Tart | Hobie Brown

Ipseity (Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader)

Summary: When the 141 has to make a choice between saving you or a fellow sniper, you know that your time has come to an end.

A/N: This was meant to be a short filler and now it's like 4.5k long. Hope you're all happy.

Category: Angst || Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Graphic Language | Graphic Violence | Gun Violence | Graphic Description of Injury

The ringing in your ears woke you up. 

It was a high-pitched squeal that scrambled your thoughts and made your head pound. You couldn't think straight, you couldn't get past the overwhelming dizziness whenever you tried to raise your chin.

Blood stung your eyes. Your chest burned. You hadn’t been in this much pain in years, every pinch of your nerves prodded at long-forgotten childhood memories. They were things that had been left behind from before you enlisted, things that no longer mattered. What mattered was that you were tied to a chair and barely breathing. 

You were going to die here. 

And nobody was coming to save you. 

"Oh,” someone crooned from behind your seat. You didn’t have the strength to turn your neck and you thanked whatever cruel deity was listening that you hadn’t flinched. The least you could do was fake some courage for what was to come. 

“Come back for more?” Your mouth was dry, wretchedly so. You wanted to gag and spit, but there was no moisture in your mouth- it was like sandpaper. 

“There’s not much left in you for me to take, Sol,” Valeria said, her fingers trailing the length of your shoulder. Your body shivered beneath her touch as she slowly circled your chair, a cruel smile tugging at the corner of her lips. 

“Oh, I’ve always got something left for you, gorgeous,” you chuckled, flashing the drug lord a weak grin. 

She snorted, the harsh light of the overhead lamp illuminating the edges of her features. She was a sharp woman, Valeria, somebody that you secretly admired. Not for her deeds or the atrocities she’d committed, but for her tenacity and her ambition- there was no stopping her. 

“You’ve always been my favourite sniper, you know,” Valeria mused, pulling her hand from your skin to inspect it. Your blood stained her fingers, thick and warm from where it had oozed from your wounds.

“You usually kill your favourite snipers?” You tried to raise your eyebrow but sharp pain ripped through your face, you realized dimly that the skin of your forehead had been split.

“Only when they steal things that belong to me, Luz,” Valeria whispered, pressing her hands against the armrests and leaning in. “Then, I kill them.” 

“We didn’t do it,” you met her gaze evenly, the false claim falling easily from your lips. 

“You’d die a liar to protect your friends,” she nodded thoughtfully. “It’s unfortunate that they have chosen not to give you the same courtesy.” 

You frowned, taken aback by the statement. You suspected that the 141 wouldn’t be there in time, you’d come to terms with the fact that your journey might end here. But, the way she’d said it… it was as if you were missing something. 

Valeria’s brows raised, eyes wide as she mocked your surprise with a gasp. “Oh, I must have forgotten to mention it earlier.” 

“Mention what?” You ground out through your teeth. 

The drug lord huffed a laugh, pushing off from your seat and standing upright. Sweat began to form in a thin sheen across your skin, anxiety running rampant through your system. 

Valeria’s eyes hardened as she tutted under her breath, pulling the blade on her thigh from its sheath. When her attention turned back to you, the malice in her gaze made your spine straighten. 

What did she mean? 

“What you stole from me,” she began, pointing the knife towards your face, “got someone very close to me killed.” 

You swallowed thickly, your throat like gravel and your tongue like concrete. 

The woman was seething now, the cool facade that she’d worn had melted into pure vitriol and hatred. It was an expression you’d never seen on her but on so many others throughout the years, it was the stare of someone who blamed you for their loss. 

“So, as penance,” Valeria pressed the tip of the blade to rest against your chest, “your Task Force will have to lose one of their own- even after they bring me the information.” 

“What-” 

“We have the other sniper,” the drug lord shrugged. “The little broken one.” 

Your heart stalled in your chest, fear dousing your body like a bucket of ice water. Blood rushed through your ears, loud and roaring and all-consuming with the sound. You couldn’t think straight, the image of your colleague being tortured flashed across your vision like a spotlight. 

“Birdy.” You whispered the name but it sounded like a plea rather than a statement. Valeria must have heard the begging in your voice because she only smiled. 

“Birdy,” she confirmed, with a smug tilt of her head. 

God, please no. 

“Let them go!” You lurched against your restraints. 

The latina's eyes were like stone, hard and unyielding. She was in pain, she was hurting and now it was her chance to hurt you all for what you’d done.

“I will,” she nodded her head soothingly, fingers coming to trace your trembling jaw. You snatched your face from her touch and she raised a brow. When she leaned back with a sigh, you knew what was coming. 

Valeria struck you hard. 

The wounds on your face screamed and it felt like someone was making you gargle molten lava. Your eyes watered but you made no sound, you gave her nothing to indicate that she’d hurt you. 

“The 141 will bring me what they stole,” Valeria sucked in a breath, watching you from beneath her lashes. “But they can only save one of you.” 

Your eyes widened. 

They can only save one of you. 

You knew then that you were going to die here. 

“What’s the matter, pequeño sol?” Valeria spoke with a mocking lilt. Your body trembled. “You don’t think they will come for you?” 

“No.” 

The word was soft and broken and you wondered if the drug lord had even heard it. The way that her smile wavered implied that she did. 

“No,” she nodded, standing straight. “Neither do I.”

If you hadn’t been so shattered, you would have seen the glimmer of pity pass over her features. 

You took in a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself, "will you keep your word?"

"What?" 

"Will you keep your word?" You repeated firmly. No one was stupid enough to trust the word of a drug lord but right there and then you would take it as law. If you were going to die you needed to know that Birdy would be safe. 

Your eyes bore into hers. Valeria swallowed and you could see her hesitation, the desire to spit on the dying flame in your chest and put it out. 

Instead, the woman only nodded. 

"I will." 

Instantly, you relaxed in your seat and leaned your head back with a sigh. You closed your eyes, fighting the tears that had gathered along your lashes. 

This was it. 

This was the end of it. 

You weren't stupid enough to expect anyone to come save you, not when Birdy's life hung in the balance. There was never a doubt about who was more valued on the team, despite your skills you'd never be able to contend with Birdy's spot on the team. 

It wasn't about who was better, it was about who was loved. 

And nobody in the 141 loved you more than they loved Birdy. 

No one. 

Your lips trembled and you fury rose like a volcanic eruption from within your chest. You would not die crying. You would not die without dignity. 

"I'll be leaving to retrieve my package," Valeria sighed, sheathing her knife. "Once the handover is made, my men will put you down."

You grinned.

"After all we've been through," you feigned hurt. "I thought you'd want to do the honors, gorgeous." 

But Valeria didn't bite. She didn't laugh nor did she retaliate, the woman only watched you with an unreadable expression. 

"We are the same, me and you, Sunshine." The drug lord stood tall, "Deberías haber sido valorado. Morir con orgullo."

You blinked dumbly.  "I don't know what the fuck you said but I'm going to assume you think I'm hot and that you regret not sleeping with me before I die." 

Valeria rolled her eyes and turned away. 

"You act tough, Sol. Don't die thinking this is anything but a betrayal."

Betrayal. 

You offered nothing but a snort, laughing the chill of her words off your spine.

The woman left the room and immediately the silence was overwhelming. There was no one to lie to now, no one to throw your facade at. You found yourself almost asking her to stay as she closed the door behind her, biting your tongue to reserve your dignity. But, you didn't want to be alone, not when the end was approaching so quickly.

 Though, you guess you'd done this to yourself. 

Always good, but never enough. König was your best friend, but you knew he'd leave you in a heartbeat to save the sniper he truly loved- you couldn't ask any differently from him. 

After all, if it had been between him and Ghost, you were sure you'd make the same decision. 

A pathetic tragedy in itself considering the feeling wasn't mutual.

Simon Riley loved Birdy, just as the rest of them did.

You would never compare, you'd never come close, not with your ambitious demeanor- not with your shitty attitude. You'd never allowed yourself to view them as family and when they'd tried to include you, you hadn't let them in. 

If your own family had wronged you, your own flesh and blood, what would the 141 do any differently?

By the looks of the situation: nothing. 

No one was coming to save you. 

The burning beneath your lids became so aggressive you wanted to tear the skin from your face. You wanted to gouge out your eyes, just so that the only thing dripping would be blood- not tears. 

Never tears. 

You were not Birdy, you did not cry. 

You were not Birdy. 

You'd never be Birdy. 

The pressure in your chest grew and swelled and suffocated, extinguishing the fire you'd kept burning for years. Through everything, you'd held strong. Through hellfire and brimstone, you'd crawled your way across death and misfortune to emerge from the ashes stronger. 

You did not break. Not until now. 

A scream ripped from your chest, unrecognizable. It wasn't you who wailed, it was the child inside who mourned their life. It was the adult who'd never been loved the way they'd prayed for in the dead of the night.

Never enough.

Never enough for König, the man who always found himself by Birdy's side, chasing for the crumbs of their attention.

Never enough for Simon Riley, who'd taken your heart and crushed it every time he watched you with distaste- with disappointment.   

You were never the priority. 

Never his priority. 

You'd never be anything to Ghost, not the way Birdy was.

But you were not Birdy and you'd not die wishing that you were. 

You pulled at your restraints, thrashing in your chair with renewed energy. While you knew it was unlikely you'd escape, at least you'd be put down fighting. 

"Hey!" One of Valeria's henchmen shouted. 

You struggled harder, the skin of your wrists ripping from beneath the ties. Fresh blood trailed down your fingers and you smeared it wherever you could reach, wetting the braided rope until it was slick with crimson rage.

Your heart jumped as your hands slipped through the restraints, the gory lubrication helping you pull your crumpled fingers free. 

"Stop!" The cool metal of a barrel pressed against your forehead, putting an instant halt on your plans. 

You glared up at the man before you, his eyes were hard but his hand trembled, the weapon jittering against your skull. 

"I will fucking paint this room with your brains," he hissed, the cigarette in his mouth jolting with each word. "Try me, I dare you." 

"If the 141 comes with the package and I'm dead, Valeria will butcher your entire family, cabrón." You were careful as you spoke, enunciating each word as clearly as you could muster. 

The butt of his weapon struck your cheek hard enough to send stars skittering across your vision. 

"I speak," the man hissed, "not you."

"I'm trying to warn you-" 

He hit you again, this time harder. You felt your teeth dislodge from in your mouth and panic gripped your heart as they slid down your throat. 

"I said don't speak!" He shouted, the words warbled as your vision spun. Your head lolled to the side, gagging as you choked on your own bones. Bile speared through your chest as a combination of blood and stomach acid hit the floor weakly. Your teeth clattered across the ground, like dice rolling across the board. 

"Ricky!" The man called over his shoulder. "Alguna palabra sobre el paquete?

"Aún nada, hermano."

"Mierda! ¿Por qué tarda tanto?"

The conversation fell on deaf ears as you fought to keep yourself conscious. Your hands were freed but now the element of surprise was lost and there was a barrel pressed against your face. 

"I should kill you right now," the man spat in English. "You fucking murdered my brothers like a coward."

"They should learn to duck," you shrugged weakly. 

This time when he hit you, it threw your seat backward. You hadn't been able to move your hands in time before the weight of your body and the steel spines of the chair slammed against your forearms. 

A sickening crunch reverberated through the room, echoing like the toll of a church bell and while that was loud, your scream was deafening. 

"Let's be honest with ourselves, Sunshine," the man laughed, watching you as you writhed and sobbed. "Nobody is coming to save you." 

He cocked the weapon slowly, leaning down to press the barrel against your forehead once again. You couldn't even keep your eyes open as you struggled for breath, choking on your own spit and blood as you shrieked. You wanted to watch him, you wanted to go down with defiance- but fear gripped your throat so tightly you were choking on it.

You weren't going to die fighting. 

You were going to die suffering. 

When the gunshot came, your body recoiled so hard that your head smashed the concrete beneath you. In that horrible moment of silence that followed, you wondered if there was no peace even in death. Agony ripped through your nervous system, every inch of your body screamed for relief. 

If this was death, then you were in hell. 

"Think again, cunt."

The distinct cockney accent had your spine straightening and your eyes snapping open. 

The gun clattered beside your head, unfired. 

You weren't dead. 

"Sunshine!"

You were being saved. 

"Talk to me, Sunshine!" 

The voice was so far away, he was too far away, he wasn't going to make it. You weren't going to make it. The man on the floor next to you must have sat back up because you could feel his hands gripping your shoulders, the gun rattling in your ears. 

Fingers gripped your face, jostling you from your semi-conscious state. Your vision was blurred by your own blood and tears, the figure before you a mess of shadows. You screamed, trying to pull your broken arms from beneath the chair to defend yourself until help got to you. 

Searing hot pain ran up the lengths of your arms and stabbed into your neck. You gagged, a low bellow wrenching from your throat as you heaved. 

"Stop! Stop! Don't move!" 

"Get away from me!" You wailed, voice shrill and unhinged. You tugged again and this time his hands came down on your shoulders. 

"SUNSHINE!"

The roar of your name made your entire body freeze, clutching you by the throat with the desperation behind the callsign. You closed your eyes, a whimper falling from your lips to taint your dignity. 

"Jesus." He sounded like Ghost. It couldn't have been him but, God, you wished it was. "Come on, Sweetheart. Look at me." 

"I can't see," you wept. 

His thumbs swept over your face, gloves wiping the blood from where it had settled on your lids and lashes. You tried again, blinking the crimson liquid from your eyes as best you could. You imagined that you looked a sight, the whites of your eyes a deep red, stained with evidence of your injuries. Finally, your vision settled. 

Simon stared back at you, eyes wide. 

You gasped. 

"Simon?" You slurred, his name broken on your lips. 

"Yeah, Sunshine. S'me." He murmured distractedly. His fingers were twitching on your neck, scanning the rest of your body for injuries.

Your heart was beating against your ribs, sudden anxiety flooding your being.  If he was here it meant that they'd brought the package to you rather than to Birdy. 

That meant… 

"No, no, no," you whispered as the Lieutenant lifted the chair with one hand, pulling your broken hands from behind your back. "No, no, Simon, what're you doing here?" 

Ghost recoiled slightly, a frown overtaking his features. "The fuck do you mean?" 

"Birdy," you rasped, a sob building in your chest. "You need to get Birdy. What about Birdy?" 

"Birdy's-" 

You fought to stand up, pushing him out of the way as you stumbled to your feet. Your body swayed side to side as your vision swam, but you weren't going down- not again. 

"Need a gat. Need Birdy- we can't lose Birdy. Everybody needs Birdy-" 

"Sunshine." 

"I can't lose Birdy!" You snapped, reeling on your superior with a broken gaze. 

For a moment, he stood frozen, speechless. You'd never recover if they killed the other sniper, no one would. Everyone would blame you, it'd be your fault.

"König's got Birdy," Ghost said slowly, straightening to stand to his full height. "I've got you, Sunshine."

You gawked at him as though you hadn't understood a single word he'd said. Realistically, you truly hadn't. They'd come for you, knowing that it would put everyone at risk. 

Simon had come for you, leaving Birdy to a man that he hated with every ounce of his being. 

Simon had come for you, not Birdy. 

"You're here?" You whispered and although it sounded fucking stupid, Ghost only nodded. He knew what you were really asking. 

"Of course," he said. "Of course, I am."

"You came for me?" Your voice broke.

The soldier shuffled on his feet, shaking his head as though he thought it was obvious. 

"I'd follow you anywhere. We both know it," he huffed, that dark gaze pinning your soul to your chest. 

You rocked forward at the words, knees buckling from beneath you. Simon shot forward instantly, his arms looping around your waist and hauling you upward. His hand came to grip your chin, fingers slapping your cheek lightly as your eyes rolled backward. 

"Come on, Sweetheart. Stay with it, it's nothin',"  he growled, jostling your body to keep you conscious. Your head fell forward to rest against his shoulder, ears ringing and your mind shattered. "Sunshine, stay awake for me."

You couldn't any longer, you couldn't listen to him. He should have been used to it by now, you'd always been the troublesome one for him. Never directly disobeying him but never doing it the way he asked, always driving him bat-shit fucking crazy- always under his skin. 

But, if Simon couldn't save you, you'd die happy knowing that he'd even tried. 

You'd die happy knowing that somebody loved you. 

—

When you thought of dying, you always had such a visceral image of what would happen. You'd be the last one on your line, and the rest of your unit would be shot down; you'd make a stand on a hill and wipe out the enemy until you were out of ammo. Then, you would fight until you were overwhelmed. 

That was the death you'd imagined. 

Not abandoned and left alone in a warehouse in a sick game of "pick the sniper you like more." 

"They'll fully recover physically," someone sighed from above your head. "Mentally, though…" 

"They'll be right," Simon finished. 

"That's what they said about Birdy," the doctor muttered. "We all know how that ended." 

"Doc-" 

"Saint."

Simon cleared his throat. 

"Saint," the callsign foreign on his tongue, "Sunshine's not Birdy."

To hear it from Simon Riley himself was all the validation you needed. 

You stirred in the bed and immediately all conversation fell quiet, the both of them waiting for you to fully awaken. 

You knew you were in the hospital before your eyes opened. You recognised the doctor who was talking, a medic who had yelled at you often for ‘being reckless.’ The smell of antiseptic was near seared into your memory and the sound of the monitor beeping was too familiar. 

However, the room was brighter than you’d anticipated and you cringed into your pillow with a moan. The overhead light stung your eyes, searing your retinas and making it near impossible for you to think. 

“Get the lights,” Saint ordered, realizing what the issue was. 

The room fell dim, enough for you to finally pry your lids open and have a look around. Your jaw felt heavy like there was cotton in your mouth. As you probed with your tongue, you realised with a pitted stomach that there actually was something stuffed between your teeth. 

You moaned, reaching upward to pull it out. 

It was as though you’d set off a bomb with the movement. Both Simon and Saint immediately shot forward, hands on your arms to rest them by your side gently. They stood on either side of your bed, like two sentries, one dark and one light. 

“Gonna need you to just relax a second for me, spitfire,” Saint chuckled. 

You huffed, fighting the urge to gag on the material in your mouth. Your tongue ran over it, moving to dislodge it from where it had been wedged between your teeth. 

“Now,” the doctor leaned over to adjust your drip. “Do you remember your name and what happened?” 

Rather than respond, you opted to slowly let the gauze fall out of your mouth and onto your chest. Saint watched you with a deadpan expression as you fought with your facial injuries to perform this feat. 

At the end of it, you offered a weak smile. 

A long moment of silence ensued before the doctor sighed, staring at the lumps of bloody fabric sitting on the gown. 

“I’m gonna go grab some shit,” they said. “Maybe a fuckin’ whiskey.” 

They disappeared from the room swiftly, leaving you alone with the Grim Reaper himself. With a harsh sigh through his nose, the Lieutenant reached over and scooped up the gauze, dropping them into the bin. 

“You couldn’t just answer the question?” He muttered, moving to crouch by your head. He wore only his balaclava, his hoodie down for once. 

“Not with that in my mouth,” you rasped, words thick and sickly. 

Simon snorted softly but he said nothing, opting to watch you instead. His gaze ran from your hair to your neck, over and over as if he were committing you to memory. His expression was gentle but there was something hidden that made you think that, at that moment, he was extremely vulnerable. 

Anything you said from this point on would determine the relationship between you both. You remembered what he’d confessed when he found you beaten and bloody on the floor. It was clear as day and imprinted on your brain as though it had been branded on the inside of your skull. 

“I would follow you anywhere. We both know it.” 

You’d both reached the point of no return, no more smoke and mirrors, no more half-truths. Neither of you could get away with hiding your feelings behind hatred anymore. 

Not after he’d chosen you. 

“You came for me,” you whispered. A statement, not a question this time.

“Of course,” he said again, just as he had before. 

You hadn’t realised you were crying until his hand cupped your cheek, his thumb wiping the tears from your cheeks ever so gently. As much as you hated it, as much as you wanted to stop, you couldn’t hold them back. 

The relief was palpable, the understanding that you were valued was freeing. 

Simon Riley knew the kind of person you were, right at your very core, and he still chose to love you. He still chose to hold your hand and dry your tears with nothing but pure reverence in his gaze. 

You realized then and there, that you were valued.

You were enough.

'taking it'

tags: sort of non-con, dark!coriolanus snow (?), fem!reader, implied sex, smut, unedited

You gasped, as Coriolanus pressed his body against yours with unrestrained passion. His movements were fervent and filled with intensity, your skin burning beneath his touch.

The sound of his heavy breathing becoming a symphony to your ears as he continued to ravage you in wild abandon, pushing the boundaries of pleasure beyond all imaginable limits.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’d cum in pleasure. “Coriolanus-, it's too much, i can’t handle it-.” Though your pleas fall upon death ears as he doesn’t seem to care about what your saying, he was already to deep in the lust of the moment to even realise or comprehend what you were saying.

"Can't get enough of you" he'd whisper, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his strong lap.

"No!" you'd moan when he pressed himself deep inside yours. His embrace seemed to last an eternity, igniting flames of desire all through your body. He wanted all of you and more, a craving that only grew stronger as time went on.

Coriolanus would gaze down to where you were intertwined and moan with delight at the sight of your passion smeared over his shaft. “God damn, you’re driving me wild” he growled, gripping your hips and lifting you up before putting his cock back in.

At this point you’re nothing but his cocksleeve. Your insides scream in pain with each passing second and your stomach feels like it's about to burst from the unbearable sensation.

You beg for him to stop, yet he continues heedless of your pleas. You know that if he doesn't take respite soon, you will succumb to exhaustion and pass out from the physical stress of it all. Coriolanus keeps thrusting into you like a mindless beast.

Not thinking of the repercussions, you tried to push him off by lifting yourself partially up from his thighs and laying your small hand on his pelvis. But in that moment, it was a mistake that you deeply regretted.

You cry out loud as he pulls you back down. His breath is hot and heavy on your skin, his whisper filled with venom as he spits out the question: "Where do you think that you are going?".

He places a hand around the small of your back, holding your hips firmly against the bed. The power of his grip immobilizes you from moving any further. You try to plead with him but it falls on deaf ears.

He stares into your eyes, his expression unreadable as he leans in closer to you. His voice suddenly softens and he smiles a small, knowing smile that sends chills down your spine.

"Look," he says in a low tone, "Just relax."

He had one hand firmly clutching your hands, immobilizing them above your head. You felt his other hand tracing down your body for more access and finally pushing your left leg to the side. "Stop fucking running away and take it," he demanded.

His words stirred something inside of you that felt liberating yet uncertain at the same time. The sensation of him positioned above you unlocked an intensity in the moment that made everything feel heightened- each breath, every action.

You shake your head back and forth, tears streaming down your cheeks. His laugh is bitter as he says, “It serves you right. You shouldn’t have spoken to that guy.”

By the way your body betrayed you once more by tightening his cock, he knew you were going to cum.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Cum for me," Coriolanus whispers as he leans down to kiss your lips and wiping away the tears with one hand that is pressed against your stomach.

His other hand reaches up to grasp onto yours, and he can feel your body quaking beneath him. "Fuck, I'm so close," Coriolanus gasps out in pleasure. His movements become more weaker as time passes.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel him reach his climax inside you, and the walls of your body are filled with his warmth. “So fucking gorgeous with my load in you.” he had whispered into your ear as he pulled out of you, lazily putting his body weight on you but not fully.

“You did so good, so so good.” He says as he moves up to your neck full of hickies to place a gentle kiss. His words spark something deep within you, and as he pulls away you can feel the tears beginning to form in your eyes once again.

You are overcome by a wave of emotion that you can't seem to control, but instead try to hold it back.

He seems to notice it though. "Shhh," Coriolanus whispers as he pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around your body. You can feel the beating of his heart against yours, and you wrap your own arms tightly around him. You don't make the effort to push him off you, since you know there was no chance he would let you.

I need to stop joining new fandoms and falling in love with new people.

Avatar The Way of Water spoilers without context:

“Stop wiggling around, I’m trying to sleep! Wait… what’s tha… oh!”

Forced proximity with best friend Bob?

A chance to do friends to lovers with Bob? Say no more!

"Remind me to never let Javy book the Air B&B again."

Bob chuckled at your comment, despite agreeing, "Well at least we have an actual bed. Reuben and Mickey have bunk beds."

"So all the single people have to suffer?" You scoffed, continuing to shuffle through your luggage.

The annual lake trip was going well, until the room arrangements were revealed. It wasn't that you minded sharing a room with Bob.

It was the lack of a second bed.

Twenty years ago, when you were both eight, this wouldn't have been a problem. But then puberty, high school, and base camp occurred, which brought to light the crush you had been harboring on your best friend.

"We'll make it work. And if it's that bad, I can take the floor," he offered, always the considerate one. It was one of the many traits you adored about Bob.

"Robert James Floyd, absolutely not!" You scolded, eliciting a chuckle out of him. It was deep and low, just like his voice and you didn't want to admit how it made your knees nearly shake.

"I've slept in barracks before, it's the same thing."

The comment would have gotten a laugh out of you. In fact, you would have even made a remark back, probably about how you've also slept in truck beds and underneath a wide open sky.

But then Bob Floyd took his shirt off.

It wasn't even your first time seeing him shirtless, far from it. But now he had filled out, with muscle and a dusting of hair that trailed down from his chest, past his stomach.

God, was he always this hot? Had to be and somehow you just didn't notice it until later. Perhaps that was the worst part; you fell for him because of who he was. It wasn't as if he had some type of glowup over summer break, like you'd see so often in those stupid teen movies you'd watch to feel better about yourself. No, Bob Floyd was always a beautiful soul, inside and out.

And he wasn't yours. Couldn't be. The risk of him not reciprocating was too high. Plus, your family was friends with his'. That meant Thanksgiving, Christmas, Fourth of July, hell, even fucking Memorial Day gatherings would be tainted. All thanks to you.

The pressure was too high, the risk was too great.

But you could look, right?

"Sunshine?"

Bob's childhood now turned adult nickname for you broke the spell. Your wide eyes met his oceanic's. His hair, which had gotten darker over the years and now had threads of early greys, was mussed from taking off his shirt, some curls over the front of his forehead, others to the side. White shirt in hand, highlighting how massive they were when clutching the alabaster fabric. Brow's knitted together, combined with his narrow eyes and titled head created a downright adorable look of confusion.

"You,,,," he briefly turned around, to see if there was something on the wall behind him and that's why you wouldn't look at him, "You okay?"

You nodded eagerly, probably too eagerly, "Yeah sorry....I uh spaced out. Probably thinking of ways to get back at Javy."

Bob smiled, despite it never reaching his eyes when he nodded. You had turned around so quickly, unable to make such an observation.

"I'm going to go take a shower," grabbing the top and bottom you could find the quickest in your suitcase. You avoided eye contact with him, too busy feeling shame for getting caught doing something so lewd.

Rushing, you turned the water on in the showers. Focusing on ensuring you grabbed the correct products. Get the water to the perfect temperature and pressure, it exists, it has to exist because if it doesn't then you'll think about the dark body hair that went past the waistband of his jeans.

For about twenty minutes, it worked. You did your skincare routine, brushed your teeth for nearly two minutes, even blow dried your hair. Applied a lip mask, that stupid lash and brow serum the worker at Sephora conned you into buying. Moisturize every inch of your body, even though it was the dead of summer and you would sweat it all off before sunrise. That stupid reusable eye mask that you got because it was on clearance. Have you done the Wordle today, you should do the Wordle. You should do anything other than thinking about sharing a bed with your shirtless best friend.

It worked. Even put on some music, not too loud, just enough to hear and hum along.

It worked. For a while. But then you had used nearly every product in your cosmetics bag and it was time to get dressed.

Fuck.

You could never match a pair of socks, not even if your life depended on it. But tonight, fucking tonight of all nights, you had to grab a whole matching set.

The pale pink lace trimmed cami, paired with joggers. An oversized T-shirt that went further down than the pair of matching satin shorts.

You had brought the set when you were talking to a guy and thought you would be able to move on from the wonder that is Bob Floyd. What a fucking joke.

Maybe you could wear them, run back out to grab something else and run back in to change. No, why would anyone do that? If anything, it'll just make it more obvious that you didn't want to wear it in front of him. But what if you didn't change and Bob thought you had worn essentially casual lingerie on purpose? What if he found that weird? What if-

"You okay in there Sunny?" His voice always calmed you, always able to break you out of whatever self inflicted spiral you were on.

Taking a deep breath, you nodded despite Bob being unable to see you, "Yeah, I'm good. Just developed a more extensive skincare routine."

A short burst of laughter was released on the other side of the door, "You don't need all that. Already pretty."

"Bob Floyd, you are....." Charming. Amazing. Too good to be true. The love of my life,

"....too kind."

"Just telling the truth," his feet audibly stepped away. The butterflies in your chest were still exploding from his words. He made you feel safe, that this was Bob you were talking about. He'd never think you'd do something lewd or negative on purpose. Bob knew your intentions to be good. After all, he was your Bobby.

Just not in the way you want.

Your head cleared long enough to walk out the door, into the well lit bedroom. When he first made eye contact with you, you didn't even falter, simply smiling at him.

But Bob didn't say anything at first. Usually he'd make a teasing but well meaning comment about you taking so long. His thin pink lips parted, yet no words came through.

"Are you okay Bobby?"

The concern in your voice broke the trance. His features soften, his lips quirking into a half smile, "Yeah, I'm good. Just gonna shower and then head to bed."

Tension had left the room. Flopping down onto the bed, you scrolled through social media, watching all the videos and photos the squad had posted today.

"Uh, Sunshine?" You turned and lost your breath. Bob's hair was freshly washed, ends beginning to curl. A white shirt that was barely translucent and grey sweatpants that hung low on his lithe hips.

Bob Floyd had downright slutty hips.

"I don't think the bed is big enough for both of us to lay down."

Your brow crumpled in confusion, "Javy said this was a queen."

"Javy thinks anything that isn't a single is a Queen." Bob explained, not phased at all by this mistake.

Clearly it wasn't the first time. But you were still going to kill Javy Machado tomorrow morning.

"Here, if we both sleep on our sides, it'll be good."

"Like spooning?"

"Uh yeah," a hand came up to rub the back of his neck, "That's one way to think about it."

You supposed it was better than feeling his ass against yours, "Alright, well....come on in, the water's fine."

It took some time to figure out the arrangement. What was one supposed to do with their other hand? The final agreement consisted of your hips flushed against Bob's, his arm slung over your waist.

Zero awkwardness in the air. It felt....natural.

"Night Bobby."

"Night Sunshine."

Things were looking up. There was no way this would change your friendship or threaten to reveal your well kept secret. Sleep was well within your reach.

Then Bob moved. And kept moving. Due to his closeness, you felt every maneuver, no matter how subtle.

"Floyd, do you mind?"

His movements continued, as if he was trying to avoid your body while somehow simultaneously hang onto it.

A loud huff left your lips, "Stop wiggling around, I'm trying to sleep! Wait, what's that...."

Oh.

Your hips were flushed against his, your ass perfectly fitting the space formed by his thigh meeting his hip. Right against his hardened groin.

The sweatpants were thin. He didn't have anything underneath. Thanks to the flimsy fabric of your shorts, you could feel him greatly.

You were in bed with Bob Floyd. Bob Floyd was in bed with you, rocking an erection. You were being held by Bob Floyd, in bed. Bob Floyd had a huge cock, a grower.

Silence filled the room, tension thick enough to be cut with a butter knife. Neither one wanting to move, for fear of making it worse.

He let out a shaky breath. He developed a rhythm, almost imitating one sleeping.

You shifted, just enough for your thigh to rise, but subtle enough to play off as nothing.

His breath hitched.

Inch by inch, your hips began to gyrate, rubbing against his clothed cock.

"B-Bobby," you were panting, as if having run a marathon. His fingers sank into your hips, gripping the plush flesh as he flipped you onto your back, towering over you.

You moved to sit on your elbows, to raise yourself up to argue. From years of play fighting, he was fast as lightning, pinning your hands above your head.

Bob slowly lowered himself down until his nose brushed against your, his soft hair brushing your forehead.

"Twelve years." Was all he said, gritting through his teeth, squeezing your hands in hopes it would tethered him to Earth.

All that came out of your mouth was a hum of confusion. In the moonlit light, you searched for his eyes, trying to read them.

"Stuart Hendricks asked you to prom. You had been hoping all month he would ask you. Hell, I even helped him. Told him your favorite musical and which song to sing. I was excited for ya. And then you said yes to him and I wanted to punch him. I never had thought about fighting someone until then. Took me a week to realize why I was so angry."

Oh my God.

"Eight to ten years ago," you confessed. It was Bob's turn to knit his eyebrows together.

"Eight to ten?" He repeated, "Why is there a range?"

"I remember feeling....funny when you came back from boot camp. You had filled out a bit and had on those adorable military issued glasses. But it took me some time to accept what I was feeling," you explained.

How you found those glasses endearing was beyond Bob's understanding. But it didn't agitate him, it was just one of the many things he loved about you.

"That's a lot of time lost," his voice was barely a whisper.

You nodded, "Can we.....can we start making up for it?"

"Yes," he nodded, dropping his head lower, "one hundred percent yes."

His lips were like heaven. He molded his body to yours, chests flushed together, limbs tangled within one another. A hand that spanned the entirety of his neck, his thumb guiding your chin upwards so he could deeper explore your mouth.

"Heard you singing....and it just felt....felt like we were living together," he confessed in between kisses, "felt so right, like that's what it's supposed to be like."

Nodding feverishly, your hands found purchase in his thick hair. Tugging on the sun kissed locks, earning a groan from Bob that made your thighs clench.

"Can....can I touch you?" Always the gentlemen, your Bobby.

"As long as you don't stop."

"Wouldn't dream of it sunshine," his mouth latched onto your neck, leaving open mouth kisses along the side, teeth gently grazing your sensitive skin. A hand grabbed your leg, hitching it to wrap around his waist.

Bob Floyd was fucking heaven.

Instead of Magneto…

✨vagneto✨

Cause he’s a 🐱🐱 magnet

The Nanny

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What's up, Teller?"

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

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

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

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

"Yum."

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

"Nope and nope. No allergies either."

"Cool."

"Thank you. I owe you."

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

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

"Almost anything."

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

"Alright."

. .

. .

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

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

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

"I think so."

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

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

"You bring the goods, Teller?"

"Burgers and fries as promised."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I appreciate that."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well I don't know about that…"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

. .

. .

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

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

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

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

"A little after ten."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What the fuck happened?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hey!" Both your brothers protest.

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

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

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

"Will do. See you soon."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Aw. What does my favorite Teller need?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You are amazing, you know that?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Jax Teller chose a pretty one this time."

"Fuck off."

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

. .

. .

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

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

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

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

Jax sighs. "Too late now."

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

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

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

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

The note read, [A son for a son.]

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

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

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

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

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

"Find them. Now."

. .

. .

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

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

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

"Baby girl?"

"...Hap?"

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

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

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

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

. .

. .

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

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

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

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

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

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

Both brothers' jaws clench.

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

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

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

"Yes."

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

Jax frowns. "Found who?"

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

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

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

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

Jax freezes. "What secret?"

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

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

Jax glances at his boys, but says nothing.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Limping away?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Well yeah. You were shot."

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

"Then what are you doing here?"

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

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

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

"Well, yeah. Obviously."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Cunt."

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

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

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

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

Silence.

Dead fuckin' silence.

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

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

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

"I ain't telling you shit."

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

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

BANG!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"And w-what's that?"

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

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

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

"Marry me," Happy grumbles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Let me see."

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

"What? But-"

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

"Boo."

The Sons chuckle.

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just Abel?" His eyebrow arches.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

dune masterlist

:/

“my child is fine” your child wants to marry multiple fictional characters

unravel me — daniel ricciardo

daniel ricciardo x fem!reader [2.9k] summary: every day was an adventure with daniel in one way or another and that’s probably why you agreed so easily to wear the godforsaken panties in the first place. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, semi-public sex, edging, reader wears vibrating panties in public. a/n: fic one of smutober and the kink i decided to focus on is orgasm control. i had a lot of fun writing this one so i hope you enjoy it!! x

It had been something that was supposed to be funny, that would make the both of you giggle whenever you thought back on the moment but now, as you sat there clutching the edge of the table until your fingertips turned bleak, you couldn’t find the humour in it at all.

The dinner had been planned two days earlier, with George sending out an innocent text to the entire grid residing in Monaco, that contained a dinner invitation that Daniel was the first to reply to. You had been a little excited, you couldn’t lie. Between different foreign countries and hotel rooms that were all starting to look the same, you found little to no time to get the gang together for a fun night out.

Daniel was always mindful of how much time he spent on anything that wasn’t you, never wanting to leave you feeling left out or like you were a low priority to him because that was so far from the truth. He took you out, wined and dined you like the perfect cheeky gentleman that he was. He’d have the drinks flowing out, flirt with you and even stretch a leg out to play footsie with you until you were giggling and buzzed, warm all over with an undying need for him to get his hands on you.

Three years together and he still found ways to keep things exciting and entertaining. Every day was an adventure with him in one way or the other and that’s probably why you agreed so easily to wear the godforsaken panties in the first place. He’d found them on an obscure website, grinning from ear to ear when the package got delivered and your interest had been piqued at the regular old cardboard box in his hands as he carried it over to you. Your interest sound turned into mild concern when he revealed its contents, the words vibrating panties staring right up at you a little tauntingly.

“No way.” You’d told him when he arched an inquisitive eyebrow that said so much with so little words.

That no had turned into a yes when he wrapped his arms around you and swayed the both of you back and forth, giving you little kisses until you were squirming out of his grasp because you’d spent way too much time on your makeup for him to ruin it with his ass kissing.

He’d giggled with glee when you slipped the panties on, pressing the ones you’d been wearing into his hands with a grumble. It was the same giggle he was holding back now as he sat across from you at the table. His head was turned, nodding along to whatever Lando was saying but you could tell that his mind was somewhere else, focused on the tiny inconspicuous remote he was most likely fiddling with beneath the table.

You contemplated stretching your foot out to hopefully stab his toes with your stiletto, but knew that there was no way you could do it without drawing attention to yourself.

“Are you okay?” Lily’s voice drifted into your ears, interrupting your inner turmoil.

You glanced at her, finding her eyes watching you too closely that it nearly made you sweat. She knew you well enough to read what was showing on your face, so you made an effort to keep your face neutral and your smile unbothered.

“Yeah, why do you ask?” Your voice was a little too high and you realised that when her eyebrows jumped, clearing your throat roughly.

The hand that was holding a fork moved and she pointed at it toward your hand. You glanced down, letting out a breathless laugh at the way you’d subconsciously gripped the table cloth in an iron grip. You forced yourself to relax, slowly letting it go.

“I just…” You gave her a quick smile. “I’ve got cramps, shit’s killing me.”

Her face softened in understanding, hands letting go of the cutlery to reach for her purse but you quickly stopped her when you realised what she was trying to do. Any other day and you would’ve taken a moment to really think of how much you loved your friend, but your mind was already fuzzy. Like someone had stuffed your head full of cotton.

“It’s okay, I took something before so it’ll pass.” You quickly assured her and Lily eyed you suspiciously with only a little concern.

“If you say so.” She said slowly.

You only managed to relax when her attention was pulled from you to Alex, silently thanking her boyfriend for unknowingly saving you but your relief was short-lived. Your boyfriend was clearly out to get you, making his presence known by flicking a button on the remote and setting the vibrations off in your underwear.

The sharp spike of unexpected pleasure was so jarring that you barely managed to keep the gasp in, hands digging into your thighs to keep yourself grounded from the incessant buzzing between your legs. You glanced up at your boyfriend, finding him staring straight at you with a poorly concealed grin that you had half a mind to slap from his face. Daniel was looking a little too smug and you quickly regretted the glare you shot him because he was quick to retaliate, upping the vibration.

“Ha!” The sharp gasp that escaped you had both Kika and Lily looking this time, and you felt your entire body grow hot in embarrassment.

Never before had you felt as conflicted between mortification and unyielding pleasure.

“You okay?” Kika asked and you opened your mouth but Lily beat you to it.

“She’s got cramps.” She helpfully explained, sounding sympathetic enough for you to feel a little bad for lying to her.

But you couldn’t tell her the truth, you’d rather have the ground open up beneath you and swallow you while.

The entire ordeal was mortifying and you couldn’t do anything but nod wordlessly, silently sending a thanks to your lucky stars that the rest of your friends were so loud and chattery. You didn’t know what you’d do if you had gotten a few more pairs of eyes on you, especially when those eyes belonged to your boyfriend’s friends and colleagues.

“You need anything? I’ve got both pads and tampons.” Kika whispered and the offer was so sweet you couldn’t bring yourself to be annoyed with her.

After all, it wasn’t her fault. This was Daniel’s work and you wanted him to pay. Especially when he was looking so smug while your entire being was crumbling in on itself in pleasure and mortification.

“Do you need tampons?” Charlotte’s voice joined your hushed conversation and you internally groaned.

Oh God, you’re going to hell.

“No, I’m fine.” You waved the three of them off, grateful for their thoughtfulness but you didn’t need their attention on you.

You glanced at Daniel, shooting him daggers and that seemed to do the trick because the buzzing slowed down, eventually stopping and you relaxed in your chair. You hadn’t realised how wound up tight you’d gotten, inner thighs slick and panties sodden.

The conversation carried on and you didn’t focus, not really. It was hard to when Daniel was sitting across from you, looking as good as he did. It never ceased to amaze you how amazing he always looked, admiring the way his shirt was unbutton at the top and folded so perfectly that it showed off a sliver of his amazing chest. You wanted to bite that spot, mark up his neck to the point where he couldn’t wear anything with a low collar.

Your mind drifted further away the longer you looked, thinking of how you suddenly wanted to go home. How you weren’t up to staying around for dessert when you were absolutely throbbing.

Brown doe eyes glanced your way and your eyebrow twitched, biting back a sudden shy smile when the Aussie man smiled your way. You hurriedly reached for your glass of water, mouth feeling a little dry and really, you should’ve seen it coming. But you gulped too much water and Daniel’s fingers found the remote, switching it on. You were so unprepared that you promptly inhaled the water, sputtering it right out.

“Fuck.” You groaned as Kika slipped the glass from your hand before it slipped from your grasp, letting you cough until your throat was sore and your nose was burning.

“You alright, babe?” The innocent voice of your boyfriend made you squint up at him, coughing into your fist with a shake of the head.

“Wrong hatch.” You meekly explained, as if it wasn’t obvious.

With your throat cleared and your face wiped from water, you belatedly realised that you’d caught the attention of the whole group. They were all watching with different levels of concern and you shakily waved them off.

“It’s fine, I’m just gonna go to the restroom and freshen up.” You pushed your chair out as gently as possible, standing up cautiously because your legs were rattling like you’d run a marathon.

There was no feeling in them as you walked away, distinctly hearing Daniel’s voice dripping with faux concern as he excused himself. Let me just go check on the missus.

You loved when he called you that, and it secretly made you smile as you weaved between the tables and spotted the sign for the restrooms a few metres away, sighing in relief as you pushed the door open and stepped inside. You were feeling feverish, turned on beyond belief and you knew that there was only one person that could relieve that pressure off of you.

It was expected but it still made you jump when the door opened and a familiar figure filled the vast empty space. He looked a little flushed and a whole lot of handsome, grin on his face getting smothered as quickly as it came when you stumbled forward and caught his lips in a bruising kiss.

He answered eagerly, making a small sound against your mouth as he walked the both of you back into the furthest stall, arms wound around you to keep you from falling. You giggled, out of breath and aching when your back hit the swinging door of the stall, stumbling into each other.

The snip of the lock echoed in the quiet room but you paid it no mind as you tasted the fancy wine on your boyfriend’s tongue, feeling drunk off of it and him simultaneously.

“God, fuck—“ You gasped when he pushed you flush against the side of the stall, allowing you to feel his straining cock against your abdomen. You leaned into it, biting him a little too hard on his lip but Daniel only moaned, kissing you harder. “You’re such a fucking asshole. I hate you.”

“Uh huh.” He didn’t sound the least fazed, hands gripping everywhere they could. Your hips and ass ached as he grabbed them in his hold, prying your mouth open so he could lick into it. “Fucking driving me wild.”

“Likewis—“ Your word was lost in a gasp as the buzzing unexpectedly came to life between your legs, doubling over in a depraved moan that you desperately tried to hide by biting his shoulder.

Daniel snorted and you let go of his arm to slap it weakly, making him turn it up a notch. The guttural moan that came out of your mouth made him absolutely ache in his pants, and he pushed his hips into you; feeling the distinct buzz of your underwear.

“Yeah? Gonna come for me, darling?” He whispered and you nodded, breath hitching with every inhale. “Do it, be a good girl for me.”

You could feel yourself climbing, thighs tensing up in anticipation and you were so lost in the oncoming pleasure that you couldn’t focus on anything else. That’s why the sudden hand pressing to your gaping mouth took you by surprise, the buzzing ceasing and taking your orgasm away with it. You made a sound of devastation, frowning hard as you stared up into the face of your boyfriend. His wide eyes should’ve alarmed you, and it took a second to realise why he suddenly looked nervous.

The sound of footsteps against the tile made you pause, subconsciously holding your breath as you listened to the click clack of heels make their way to what you assumed was the sinks. The tap turned on and you stared into wide brown eyes as the two women started speaking in French, sounding a lot like they were gossiping, having unknowingly walked into something that shouldn't have been happening so publicly.

Daniel’s lips slowly turned into a smile, looking like someone had dropped the best gift right into his lap as he slowly realised that this would add to the fun rather than interrupt it. You could see the gears turning in his head as you stared at each other, jutting your hips out to brush against his hard cock.

He bit back a hiss, pushing harder against your mouth with his palm and watching your eyes flutter.

“Quiet.” He mouthed, his other hand reaching into his pocket and you made a pleading, muffled sound when the panties went off once again.

Daniel stared straight at your face, watching the frown of your eyebrows dissipate as pleasure started melting into your expression, eyes rolling as they closed. Your knees buckled a bit, like you couldn’t keep yourself upright and it was only when your hands gripped his arms that he knew you were well and truly on your way to orgasming.

“Yeah?” He whispered, so low that he might as well have been mouthing the words and you nodded, pants coming out harshly through your nose.

He knew you were becoming a little too loud, but he didn’t care as he watched your head drop back, eyelids fluttering shut as your body locked up beneath him. You came with a muffled wail, gripping his arms so tightly that you surely must’ve bruised them.

The roaring in your ears made it hard to hear, too focused on not getting overstimulated as Daniel gradually dialled down the power, until the buzzing finally stopped. You felt him remove his hand from your mouth, only opening your eyes when he’d pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips.

“Welcome back.” He whispered, looking and sounding way too pleased with himself.

You shook your head with a smile, but it dropped just as fast when you thought of the women outside the stall.

“They’re gone.” He said, like he could read your mind and he probably could. Daniel crooked a strand of hair behind your ear, nuzzling his nose against your cheek lovingly before giving you a kiss. “Your noises made them scurry off.”

“Shut up.” You flushed, pushing him off of you as you stood upright. The shake in your legs made Daniel grin, but you chose to ignore it. “God, we’ve been gone for way too long, haven’t we?”

He made a noncommittal noise that sounded a lot like I don’t fucking care, pushing the door open after unlocking it and gesturing out. You took a step before pausing, narrowing your eyes in distrust before reaching down and slipping the panties down your legs.

Daniel made a sound you couldn’t decipher when you stepped out of them, ignoring how wet they were and balling it up in a grimace.

“I don’t trust you to keep that remote untouched.” You said, biting back a smile when he shot you an offended look.

“I’d never do such a thing.” He said, but the grin on his face said an entirely different thing.

You couldn’t help but smile back, stuffing the underwear into his pocket and walking past him to wash your hands.

“So, what’s gonna be our excuse?” He asked, joining you by the sinks and leaning back against the marble.

You briefly considered feigning food poisoning, thinking that maybe it’d would work and you’d be able to slip away. It’d only been two hours but that meant nothing when it came to your friends, knowing that you all liked to stay that extra hour and pound so many drinks that the majority of you stumbled out of the restaurant.

Daniel handed you a paper towel, your mouth open to answer him belatedly but the door opening made you shut it quickly. The elderly woman that stepped inside halted when she caught sight of your boyfriend, frowning deeply as she looked between him and the sign on the door that clearly indicated that it was the ladies’ room.

You bit back an amused giggle, doing your best to look apologetic as Daniel reached for your hand, apologising with laughter in his voice and pulling you along until you both escaped the confines of the restroom.

The both of you couldn’t stop laughing as you made your way back to the table, slipping into your chairs unnoticed because somehow in your absence, the gang had turned even rowdier.

You watched Daniel settle back in his chair across from you, eyes locking onto yours and you hid a smile as one eyelid dropped in a wink. It made your body heat up all over, feeling like a school girl with a crush as you turned your attention somewhere else.

The snort that came from Lily’s mouth sounded way too amused and you glanced at her.

“What?”

“You two are as subtle as a brick through a window.”

You elbowed her. “Shut up.”

Lily hid a laugh behind her hand. “No, no. It’s sweet in a completely gross way.”

You glanced at Daniel, smile impossible to hold back as you watched him throw his head back to bellow out a laugh and it was your favourite sound in the world.

"What can I say? I'm a lucky girl."