#charlie hunnam characters

[puffins-muffins]

oopsie! my bad for forgetting those… please accept these gif(t)s as my formal apology 🙊

I found another Charlie movie to end my weekend with...

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

FIRST, SUGAR. 18+

pairing. raymond smith x fem!reader word count. 1932 summary. ray's mindless touches on your thigh while you read begin to catch up with you, though he's too busy working to realise. so he offers you a promise, "if you can give me twenty minutes. I'll fuck you for twice as long." warnings. 18+ only! general filth, little bit of fingering, pinv, horny writer's thought pls excuse me. mdni > I know this will not get read bc he's not popular anymore but I needed to get it out of my system (he's still not out my system btw, it’s a sickness. help!)

⎯ ☆ ⎯

It’s quiet, the evening calm. The only sounds coming from the crackle of the fireplace and soft, steady breaths. Both yours and Ray’s attention obtained by your individual papers in hand: yours, a book, and in Raymond’s, a stack of papers he’s been asked to look over. 

The feel of it all so comfortable, so familiar. 

The backs of your thighs horizontally rest over his, lounging across him with your back propped against the arm of the sofa — your new read held close to your face. Ray’s seated position remains close, tucked to you like you are to him. Nestled into one another casually.

His feet sit on the coffee table ahead, one hand clutching the pile of papers, his other resting over your thigh, touch mindless as he grazes your bare skin. The careful caress simply an absentminded act, an act of spontaneous, unprompted protection maybe. His focus fully engrossed in a page of nothing but information and numbers. 

Though to you, it wasn’t just nothing. Ray’s thoughtless touches act as a distraction to you, each stroke and brush and graze pulling your attention further and further away from your story until all that remains are muddled, merged sentences. The plot lost to you by now.

And so you peek at him over your book, gaze focused and almost delirious as you watch him, completely unaware of your lusty set of eyes. You observe him, vision fixed on his casual grip on you: ringed pinky and large, veiny hand perched upon your skin like it’s where it belonged. Everything about it so confident, so manly. Cardigan woven with wool and residual notes of whiskey and cigarettes — like it was a fortuitous, accidental representation as to who he is: gentle and virile.

You quietly pay attention to the way he works, his glasses resting atop his nose as he skims the page — his articulate, precise nature urging him to comprehend everything written. His heed to detail being one of the things most attractive about him. And yet, he had no idea what he was doing to you. Sat there, utterly unaware of his power.

Though that changes as your breathing grows inadvertently heavy, a sudden sharp inhale from you makes his neck snap to follow the sound. His eyes now focused on yours over your novel, a slight quirk in his brow as if to analyse you.

Your expression —or the top half, what he can see— is blissed, pained even. These last thirty-some minutes of gentle grazing begin to catch up with you.

He hums shortly, the noise an attempt to scope you out, though by now there’s no need for connecting dots or guessing — all evidence as clear as day. He looks down to his palm just above your knee, your thighs pressed tight together in an effort to alleviate some of the pressure you feel between them.

He uncrosses his ankles on the coffee table and leans forward, placing the stack of papers beside his whiskey tumbler. Ray clears his throat in his fist, a sly, faint smile forming behind his hand as if he’s debating with himself. His eyes drift down to the hand on your lower thigh, gaze following the ever so slow tail as he itches under your robe.

“You didn’t want to disturb me, did you?” Raymond questions, eyes pleased and proud as they flicker up to you.

“No,” you murmur with a faint shake of the head, voice catching in your throat as you watch. 

His fingers move inwards and under your nightdress, slotting between your thighs as if to separate them — his hand protruding through both thin layers of fabric. 

“So patient of you,” he teases, tilting his head forward, peering at you over the top of his glasses. “Must’ve been agony.”

It was. It really was.

With his spare hand, he reaches for your book and takes it from your hold — placing it open and faced down beside his papers to keep your space. He pulls back to sit in his original position, feet now planted on the floor, knees apart in a manspread. He taps at his thigh, running a hand down the beef of it like he was beckoning you, summoning you almost. 

“Come on,” he whispers, the instruction soft as he gestures you along. He taps at it again and rolls his hips underneath himself to reposition — preparing for you.

With an excited giggle, you do as asked, finally about to get what you want after all of his mindless teasing. You situate yourself over his lap, knees either side of his thighs as you use his shoulders for your support — keeping you up right. His eyes fix on you above, watching the antsy knitting and curving of your brows.

He spreads his arms either side along the back of the leather chesterfield, maintaining his dominance while he lets you take the lead. Or so he lets you think.

You reach between yourselves, your fingers hurriedly finicking with his belt, urging him out of his trousers. Your too quick movements stall your attempts, and you huff, the sound more similar to a whimper than anything else. 

His head cocks, amused, watching you fiddle with the buckle. Watching you fail with the buckle.

He lifts a hand from its spot behind the sofa, redirecting it to your cheek — palm large and warm as he cups the side of your face, making you look at him. Ray’s touch glides backwards to behind your neck, thumb resting over your ear as he urges you closer. Pulling you inwards. 

“Give me some sugar first.”

You lean in, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before moving away, trying to move away. Though he has other plans. His hold firm behind your neck to keep you there — bringing you back in so he could return the kiss. His beard skims at your chin as he deepens and roughens the kiss, intensifying the moment.

Though his dick is not yet hard, the presence of him is just as noticeable as if it were. The faint brushes of his big, thick cock through his trousers sends your mind into a tizzy. All your bodily responses become all the more evident, as if you’re betraying yourself. 

And with your attention consumed by the way he kisses you, he’s slipping his other hand between you both, reaching between your thighs. He itches a finger to skim down your cunt and you jolt, his touch catching you by surprise. You moan into his mouth, the sound stifled and muffled, before you pull away.

You look down to watch, but your view is obstructed by your fabric pooling around your thighs. And then he clicks his tongue, eyes still boring on your face. You follow the noise, looking back up and he nods slowly, wordlessly praising you for following along.

With your gaze fixed on his, he’s hooking his finger into the elastic of your underwear, parting it aside within his very skilled hand. He trails down your slit, all arousal noticeable when he’s met with no resistance, the slick of your cunt granting him easy access to toy with you.

He raises a brow, both satisfied and impressed. His touch remains light as he brushes the pad of his middle finger downwards, circling your entrance briefly before he’s slipping inside your cunt. 

It was something, but not enough. Nowhere close to being enough.

You wrap your arms around his neck, mouth grazing his with the closeness. 

“More,” you utter against his lips, a slight whine to your voice. “Another.”

Your hips wind involuntarily, like you’re preemptively chasing after something — anticipating it. The feel of a lone finger is far from what you needed to satiate the gaping want.

“Another what?” he speaks into your mouth, a twinge of whiskey being tasted on his tongue. He knew what he was doing, and he was abusing his power over you. “You’re a smart girl. Tell me.”

“Finger. Another finger,” you plead. Your answer is quick, like you thought the speed of your response will get you what you want faster.

He tuts quietly, lips brushing against yours as he shakes his head. 

All you can respond with is a whinge, a frustrated whinge at that and your hips still. The sensation of his finger being withdrawn from you. You mumble a faint, “What?” when you feel his hand part from behind your head, the one near your cunt too.

And then his hands drop to his lap, placing them between your thighs as he unfastens his belt — the jingling sound of the metal making your eyes widen, lighten almost. His hips raise underneath you as he tugs on the waistband of his trousers, pulling them down just enough to comfortably reach into his boxers.

He wraps a hand around himself and brings his cock out over the top, fisted grip tight as he gives it a few pumps — polishing his head as if to ready himself. With his other hand, he’s bunching the fabric of your garments, holding them up so he could guide himself closer to your cunt underneath. 

He knocks his head at your clit just to see and hear and feel you shudder, a response he often loved from you. And so with you right where he wants you, right at the edge, he’s lining up with you — his eyes fixed on yours like it's all coming from a place of muscle memory, not needing sight to know what he’s doing.

Ray presses the tip of his dick against your pussy, the shape of his head kissing at your entrance so perfectly. And when he feels like you’ve suffered enough, he’s feeding himself into you, filling you from underneath as you lower down — meeting him halfway.

Strength in your neck dissipates, your forehead collapsing against his as you inhale shakily, taking all of him until nothing remains. His balls pressing up against your cunt’s lips like you’re sitting on them. 

You lean in to kiss him while you give yourself a moment to reaccustom to him, familiarising with the thick feel of his cock. Your breath catches in your throat when you feel him bump up into you, a small jut upwards knocking the air out your lungs.

With himself wedged fully inside, he moves a hand to your throat, lightly holding under your jaw. There’s no pressure behind his touch, simply the presence there to guide you, to feel you. He keeps his mouth to yours, swallowing the little gasps you make and he tests the waters once more — adjusting his hips, pushing himself up into you entirely. The full weight of you perched upon his lap, sat on his dick.

“This what you wanted?” he murmurs, speaking against your lips.

You nod. Blissed, hazy eyes doing the talking for you as if you’ve suddenly become incapable of speaking. 

Ray runs his spare hand behind you and to the cheek of your ass, palm resting over the satin fabric as he guides you — ushering your hips forward to grind over him. Though the presence of his touch is short-lived as he reaches forward, collecting his papers from before.

With his hand on your jaw, he brings you inwards, tucking your face into his neck. He brings the papers in his view, holding the stack just to the side of you.

“If you can give me twenty minutes to finish this” he says, voice soft beside you. “I’ll fuck you for twice as long,” Ray whispers, his words a promise.

Raymond Smith is a man of his word.

⎯ ☆ ⎯

[puffins-muffins]

Night & Morning

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female Plus Size!Reader Word Count: 2200 Summary: Your very casual, no-strings arrangement with Jax begins to shift when he stays the night for the first time. In the morning, he wakes you with sleepy sex. Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only please, minors DNI!! hints of marijuana use, (unprotected - be responsible!) P in V sex, cursing, slight feels. A/N: I just had to come (hehe) back to these two from the What Lovers Do universe! 🥰 This little one-shot takes place before the events in WLD (huge thanks to my bestie @laurfilijames 😉) You can read them together or on their own. All feedback (comments, reblogs, likes) is very much appreciated!! 🩷 Enjoy lovers!!

The air in your bedroom is thick with the scent of sex and marijuana smoke. The window is cracked just enough to let the cool night breeze slip in. Jax is lying on his back, one arm slung over his face. His chest rises and falls in the dim light of your bedroom. You’re curled on your side, head propped on your hand, just watching him.

This is usually the part where one of you leaves.

It’s just the way things are. He never stays, you never ask him to, and vice versa. 

But so far, he hasn’t moved.

His jeans are still on the floor, his kutte is draped over the back of the chair in the corner, but he hasn’t reached for either yet. Instead, he’s just… lying there, his body loose and unguarded in a way you’re not used to.

You shift slightly, dragging the sheet higher over your bare skin. “You good?”

His arm lowers just enough for his eyes to meet yours, heavy-lidded and unreadable. You take him in— the sharp cut of his jaw, the way his stubble frames the faint smirk that doesn't fully settle on his face. There's a moment of hesitation before he quietly says, “Yeah.”

That’s it. No explanation, no excuse for why he’s still here.

You nod, settling back against your pillow, pretending this doesn’t feel different. Pretending your heart isn’t skipping at the idea of him staying, even for just a little longer. 

A few minutes pass in silence, the kind that isn’t awkward, just comfortable. Jax exhales deeply, rolling onto his side, propping his head up on his hand to face you. His other hand reaches out, his rough fingers tracing a slow path along your arm.

It’s not entirely sexual, just softer, something neither of you have ever really done before.

You swallow, your gaze locked on his. His stormy blue eyes hold something you can’t quite pinpoint. There’s a flicker of hesitation, something caught between want and uncertainty, like he’s not sure if he should be here, but he doesn’t want to leave either.

“Didn’t take you for the type to linger.” You murmur, chewing on your bottom lip, immediately regretting opening your mouth and potentially ruining the entire moment. 

He huffs out a quiet laugh, but there’s no real amusement in it. His fingers keep moving, light and tender. “Guess I don’t feel like leaving yet.”

The admission sits heavy between you. Jax searches your face like he’s waiting for you to tell him to go. But you don’t.

“Okay,” you assure him, a lazy smile gracing your lips. 

Eventually, his hand stills, his fingers lingering just a moment before he lays on his back again. His eyes shift toward the ceiling, his expression indiscernible, like he’s sorting through thoughts he’ll never say out loud.

You try to make whatever decision he’s grappling with a little easier by embracing the fact that he hasn’t left yet— something that, to your own surprise, you’re completely okay with.

You mold against him, the soft curves of your body pressing into the hard planes of his, draping the plushness of your thighs over him as you nuzzle closer. His arm wraps around you, his body relaxing against yours— like maybe he needed the silent reassurance that it’s okay, that this is okay. His lips brush over the top of your head, and he pulls you in even closer.

Your fingers trace along the ridges of old scars that are etched into his abdomen. You don’t ask where they came from, already knowing enough about his life to understand that each one carries a reminder of unsaid choices.

Your palm smooths over a particularly deep scar near his ribs, your thumb grazing over the raised skin in slow strokes. His breathing hitches for just a moment before settling, and then you feel it, the silent acceptance— the way he lets you in without any words.

For however long, you just exist together, finding an unexpected comfort in something that neither of you has tried to make sense of. 

Jax is awake before the sun, dim light from the early morning barely filtering through your blinds. The warmth of your body is a quiet comfort, your breath steady and soft against his forearm.

And fuck, the way you’re nestled against him is already doing things to him.

His arm is draped lazily over your waist, fingers resting just above your navel. Your back is pressed flush to his chest— your plump, naked ass tucked right against his morning arousal. You fit beside him so perfectly it almost feels intentional.

His cock twitches at the contact, a slow throb of heat spreading through him. He lets out a breath, his lips brushing against the crook of your neck, and when you don’t stir, he lets himself indulge a little.

Jax presses a lingering kiss to your shoulder, breathing you in, his stubble scraping lightly against your skin. His hand moves, tracing lazy patterns along your stomach before sliding down, fingers grazing your thick hip, then lower, over the curve of your ass.

You shift slightly, a sleepy little sigh escaping you, but you’re still lost in sleep.

Jax smirks against your skin, tilting his hips just enough to drag his cock along the crease of your ass, teasing himself more than you. His fingers trail between your thighs, skimming your dimpled skin, not quite touching where you need him, but enough to make you stir again.

A soft, breathy sound slips from you, your body instinctively pressing back into him.

His smirk spreads into a wide grin, his breath feathery against your ear, goosebumps rising across your skin. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

You hum, still half-asleep, but the shift in your breathing tells him you’re waking up now. He keeps his touches light, his kisses are unhurried, his fingers caressing between your thighs.

He feels it the moment you start to give in. The way your hips shift, how your thighs part slightly, your body already anticipating him.

Jax groans, his hand sliding between your legs, fingers grazing your slick heat. “Fuck,” he mutters, his cock jolting against you. “Already wet for me?”

Your only answer is another soft sigh, your body pressing closer— inviting him in.

Jax presses the tip of his cock against your entrance, teasing you with it before sinking in, slowly filling you inch by inch. His forehead rests against your shoulder, his breath ragged against your skin as he bottoms out.

You let out a shaky breath, your fingers gripping the sheets as he holds himself there, savoring the way you clench around him, warm and snug.

Jax groans, pulling out just enough before pushing back in. His movements are measured, dragging out the sensation, making you feel every thick inch of him. The slow pace is intoxicating— each deep, unhurried thrust sending waves of pleasure through you, leaving you aching for more.

His arm tightens around your waist, making sure there’s no space between you. His lips never leave your skin, peppering open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder and neck. His breath is ragged as he savors the way your body responds to him, how you let him take his time with you.

He keeps it unhurried, his arousal heightened by the consistent moans that slip from you while he moves inside you. His hand slides up, cupping your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he sets a lazy rhythm. He feels every reaction— the way your back arches, the way your body tightens around him, the way you crave him.

“You like that?” he rasps against your jaw, his voice still husky from sleep.

You don’t answer with words. Instead, your hand covers his, guiding his grip tighter around your breast, silently urging him on, letting your body tell him exactly how much you do.

Jax curses under his breath, his grip on your breast tightening, giving you exactly what you’re asking for. Then, his hand begins to slide down, his fingertips dragging over the soft swell of your stomach. The heat of his palm leaves a burning trail in its wake as he moves lower. 

When his fingers finally slip between your thighs, you gasp, your breath hitching as he finds your clit. He strokes it in gradual, teasing circles— his touch light and agonizing.

His fingers press down just enough to send an another shot of pleasure rippling through you, heat spreading through your limbs. Your breathing grows uneven, your pussy tightening around him with each thrust, his touch keeping you on the brink. 

Your hips begin to move more frantic, more desperate, grinding against him with an urgency you can’t control, chasing the release that feels just out of reach. You need him to push you over.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he breathes out. “Keep doin’ that, grind on me just like that.”

You whimper, rolling your hips, feeling the delicious friction of his cock hitting that perfect spot. The movement rips a groan from his throat, holding you firm as he thrusts deeper, making sure you feel every drag of his thick, throbbing length.

His fingers press firmly against your clit, his low grunts hot against your neck as the pressure builds, pushing you closer. It's maddening— just enough to keep you on edge, to make your pussy flutter around his cock.

His voice is nothing but a rough whisper against your skin, “Feels so fuckin’ good, huh?”

You can’t speak, can’t form a single coherent thought. All you do is moan, letting him take what he wants while your noises beg him to give you what you need. 

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your shoulder, his voice filled with need— the command sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers never stop their torturous pace against your clit, until his words give you the final nudge that sends you spiraling.

Your body clenches as your orgasm crashes over you in waves, spreading outward, leaving your entire body trembling. Needy, breathless moans of his name tumble from your lips as your walls convulse around him.

The pleasure is overwhelming, your nails dig into his arm that’s wrapped around you as you fall completely apart with him buried so deep inside you.

Jax groans, low and absolutely wrecked, his hips stuttering as he feels you come undone around him. “Fuck,” he grits out, his grip on you tightening— your body milking him, dragging him toward his own breaking point.

The way you tighten around him, pussy soaked and perfect, has him thrusting into you a little harder, his pace turning more frantic. His breath is ragged against your shoulder, his lips still pressed to your flush skin as he groans your name. His grip on your hip is firm, but as the pleasure builds, his hand moves, searching— reaching for something more.

Without hesitation, you meet him halfway, your fingers sliding into his, intertwining and then gripping him just as tightly. It’s instinctive, but the moment your hands lock together, a spark ignites— new and unfamiliar.

This isn’t just sex.

It’s intimate. Deeper than just the way he’s buried inside you, it’s the way he moves— purposeful and consuming.

His body tenses, muscles tight, sweat glistening on both of you as his release crashes over him. “Fuck, darlin’,” he groans, plunging himself in your sensitive cunt. His cock throbs, pulsing as he spills inside you, warmth spreading as he empties himself with a shuddered exhale.

His thrusts slow, his damp forehead pressing to your shoulder. Your breaths are heavy— bodies still slick and tangled. Even as the aftershocks fade, his grip on your hand doesn’t loosen. 

Jax stays wrapped around you, his body still flush against yours, his breath steadying as the glow of the morning creeps into your bedroom.

You sigh, satisfied, your body still humming from the aftermath of him, the intimacy of it all hanging between you. He presses a lazy, lingering kiss to your shoulder, his stubble scratching delicately against your skin before he rests his head there.

For a while, neither of you speak. The silence is comfortable. Easy. Filled with something neither of you is willing to define but both undeniably feel.

Then, with a smirk you can hear in his voice, Jax finally breaks it.

“Ya know,” he muses, shifting just enough to nuzzle his nose against your neck, “if wakin’ up like this is what happens when I stick around, I might have to spend the night more often.”

You scoff a quiet, amused laugh, tilting your head slightly to look at him over your shoulder. “Oh yeah?” you challenge, arching a playful brow. “You sure you can handle that? Wouldn’t want this accidentally turning into a thing.”

Jax grins, his fingers giving the generous curve of your hip a light squeeze. “Shit, babe,” he drawls, pressing another lazy kiss to your skin, “I think we passed that point the second I didn’t sneak out.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips as you settle back against him, blissed out and content, letting the comfort of him sink into you.

Neither of you say it out loud, but the thought lingers between you.

Maybe this isn’t the only time he’ll stay.

[wetpussyju1ce]

Coconut & Tangerines

jax teller x poc fem reader

1.7k words

tags: pining, love at first sight, size difference, threats of violence, canon-typical jax behaviour/violence, Jax is in lovvveeeee, not beta read, writer is in love w this dumbass and thanks to him, this side blog exists + he brought writer out a writing rut <3 all because he made me horny. don't ever underestimate the power of an ovulating woman and her pussy. amen.

Jax doesn't expect to meet the love of his life in their dingy bar, barrelling through the doors, fuming and crying no less.

Everything was as usual, smoke filled up the place, stinking like tobacco and cheap beer. Men laughed and cheered as they played pool and gambled, random profanities would be shouted once in a while over the radio playing in the background. It was just like any other day, pretty mundane for the gang of bike riders, that is until the doors burst open, a pretty sight graced their establishment.

Jax didn't look up from the game of cards he was in the middle of, that is until she spoke, "Where is he?" The words were growled, more like. With as much ferocity as a kitten in Jax's eyes when he finally looked over.

The girl was panting, standing there while clutching her handbag in one hand, and her phone in the other. Her eyes were glassy and furious, scanning the bar's clientele frantically, looking for someone. And, Jax hoped that no one of the assholes in his gang were dating her because she was oh so pretty. She had on a long sleeved white top, the material soft and fluffy, cropped and falling off one pretty shoulder, her hips were covered in a small jean skirt, held close by a sparkly silver belt, more for show than anything as the skirt was tight and small enough to stay still on her body.

Then came in her heeled boots, that stopped right where her knees started, leaving the soft skin of her thighs exposed to the elements, and to the eyes of everyone in the bar to ogle at.

"Where are you? You stupid dickhead!" She shouts, pushing through the bigger bodies of the bike riders in search of the origin of her anger. Jax leans back in his chair, to get a better view of her glassy eyes and those devastatingly gorgeous and plump pink lips, the lower lip trembling when she's not shouting.

That's when she finally gets her hands on a shoulder, spins the man around and rips the hood off his head, Jax's frowns when he sees a young face, a much too young face to be in here. So he pushes his chair back, placing his cards face down and walking towards the woman and the boy she just grabbed, "Did you lose your fucking mind? What the fuck are you doing here? Your friend told me about your little plan!!"

She's fuming, crying now, hitting the boy on the chest, and be barely budges, her hits not affecting him in the slightest, but her words do make him lower his head in embarrassment at getting caught. "Huh? What do you have to say for yourself?"

The whole bar is watching them at this point, no one moving to interrupt them, watching the drama unfold. Except Jax, who easily makes his way to the crying, distressed girl, "Now, what's going on here?"

He stands next to the girl with the wet Bambi eyes, offers her a small smile and looks at the boy, putting a hand on his shoulder, "How old are you, son?"

The boy shakes his shoulder, trying to escape his grip with an uncomfortable look on his face, "I'm 18-"

"He's 15, and he's my little brother." She sniffles and glares at her brother.

"You're not old enough to drink, but you knew that. So why did you really come here?" Jax asked, bending his head to try and meet her brother's eyes. The boy doesn't say anything and when Jax thinks he won't speak, he looks up, meets his eyes with as much confidence as possible and says, "Let me in your gang."

Jax just stares at him, "Do you even have a motorcycle?"

"I'm not stupid, I know what you do! I'm fast and-" Jax decided he's heard enough and grabs him by the neck like a disobedient pup and drags him out of the bar, his sister right behind them as the boy tries to escape his hold, spitting curses left and right.

"Actually, you are pretty fucking stupid. You want to know to know why?" Jax throws him on the pavement, watching the boy catch himself on his hands and knees. "I'll tell you," He runs a hand through his hair, "You believe made up stories you hear in the streets, and that will get you killed. That's why you need to stay in high-school and never step a foot in our bar!"

Jax sighs, "You better thank your sister for saving your life."

Her brother gets up, looking extremely embarrassed and angry, dusting himself off, he clenches his fist and glares at Jax, at that he can understand, the boy is young and dumb, he was handled like a puppy out in public. But what he can't stand for, is when her brother turns to glare at his sister, and Jax moves the second he sees the boy take a step forward, jaw set and fists clenched.

Jax stands in front of her like a mountain, "Try it, and I'll break your fucking jaw, boy."

Jax hears a whimper and his blood boils, his sister cares for his well-being and the shit wanted to repay her kindness with violence and hurt.

Her brother spits right in front of Jax's feet and takes off. Jax would chase him and set him straight if it was any other day, but it wasn't. He had the prettiest and sweetest girl in his hands to check up on. Jax straightens his kutte and turns around, seeing sadness written all over her smaller face. She covers her face with her hands and lowers her body so she sits on the hard, cold and dirty concrete of the pavement.

He looks around, rubbing the back of his neck as he watches her shoulders slump and her phone to ding with a notification, she wipes her wet eyes with the back of her hand and reads the message she received. Her wet, dark eyelashes blink as her eyes read over the message and she sighs again, eyes welling up with tears. Jax sighs and goes to sit next to her as she shoves her phone in her handbag.

"You alright?" He asked, studying the side of her devastatingly gorgeous face.

She sniffles and turns to look at him, their bodies just barely touching, and Jax's heart jumps at the bounce of her dark curls, framing her face like a cloud, a real life angel, "I was meant to go on a date, you know?"

"What happened?" He blinks.

"I'm officially 30 minute late and my date messaged me. Let's just say he isn't happy at being stood up." She mumbles. Jax hums, "Why don't you call him and explain why you're late?"

She closes her eyes for a second, then opens them again, smile wobbly, "He's going on a date with another girl. He hates me now. It won't change anything."

Jax frowns, "Sorry but your date sounds like an asshole. You could have been kidnapped or got into an accident and he's-"

"It's okay," She chuckles, not a ounce of humour behind it.

"It's not. You've had a down right shitty day, darlin'" Jax says, suddenly getting up. "Look, come have a drink or two." He sticks one of his hands out, looking at her expectantly. She bites her lower lip, "I'm sorry I don't- I don't drink." Jax smiles a little, "Then how about this, let's get ice-cream."

She brings her knees to her chest and shakes her head, "I don't-"

"You're already all dolled up, so you may as well do something. Let yourself have one good thing today, hm? On me." Jax added, he's starting to feel a little stupid because he's sure he's not being subtle at all. He hopes he doesn't come off as some jackass who sees her as an opportunity. He wants to help, he really does. And the fact that she happens to be so pretty that it makes his heart melt, wasn't his fault. "And we'll talk about your brother too, if you want."

She thinks about it and nods, finally placing her hand in his. Jax's eyes almost widen at the size difference, but he acts cool and clears his throat, getting his hand back to shove it in his pocket, his fingers tingling where she touched him. She dusts herself off, wiping the back of her skirt with her hand as he rushes inside to settle his tab, slamming cash on the counter and ignoring his guy's hollers and whoops, he shakes his head, a small smile on his lips as he makes his way to his parked bike, pulling his keys out of his pockets.

"Have you ridden a bike before?" He asked, getting his only helmet out as she made her way to him, looking at his bike, "Like this? No."

"I'll drive slow, don't worry." He kindly smiled at her, taking a step towards her, holding his helmet with both hands, "Can I?"

"Oh yeah, of course." She jumps, straightening her back and watching Jax push her curls out of her forehead with his fingers, and then place his helmet carefully over her head, snapping it shut and taking a step back.

She watches him throw a leg over the machine and put his key in the ignition, the beast roaring to life as he pulls it up with his feet and arms, "Get on," He motions with his head and she wears her handbag on one arm and sits behind him, getting comfortable and placing her hands on his shoulders, "What's your name?" She asked.

"Jax. What's yours?" He said loudly over his bike's engine. She replied and he whipped his head back, "WHAT?"

She nudged closer, repeating her name again and he grinned, knowing full well he heard her the first time, he just wanted her closer, for safety purposes of course!

"You smell real nice, what's that?" He shouted over his shoulder. She got closer, her chest pressed against his back, "Coconut and Tangerines lotion!" Jax grinned, she smelled delicious and he was hungry. He hopes wherever they're going, that they'll have tangerines flavoured ice cream, because he really doesn't think she'll let him bury his teeth in her sweet skin like a greedy bastard after knowing him for 10 minutes. Or maybe she would, who knows.

"Where's your helmet?" She asked, wrapping her arms around his waist as he finally turned the bike around, entering the road.

Jax looked over his shoulder, "Don't worry about that. Hold tight, Tangy." That's all the warning she got before he took off, leaving a cloud of dust behind.

"I'll drive slow" my ass.

[laurfilijames]

Thank you for reblogging! 💗

Best Birthday

Pairing: Will "Ironhead" Miller x you(rs truly 💁🏻‍♀️)

Words: 1.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Oral sex (F receiving). Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: You and Will celebrate your birthday the best way you know how.

A/N: Happy Birthday to me 🥳! I couldn't resist. I don't know why I haven't written a birthday fic with Will prior to this and that was appalling to me so here we are!

---

Most people wanted a party on their birthday.

A night out or good meal surrounded by their closest friends and family. Some sort of celebration to commemorate another year older and an excuse to feel special.

But this was everything you needed.

It wasn’t even dark yet and you were already in bed, wrapped up in messy sheets that hadn’t cared to be made from morning, your body cocooned by Will’s.

The late afternoon sunlight danced across your room through the trees, creating chaotic, soft yellow patterns on the bed and walls, the breeze floating in the open windows to brush your bare skin.

You couldn’t hide your smile, simply elated to be here with him like this, no schedules or obligations, and feeling completely spoiled just from the simple things people usually took for granted on a normal day.

No fuss. No elaborate gestures. Just the two of you entwined together as often as you could throughout the day.

Will pressed a kiss in your hair, his arm that enveloped you squeezing you closer to his warm body, his hand palming your naked breasts.

“Christ, I can’t get enough of you, sweetheart,” he mumbled, and your grin grew bigger as you felt exactly how much that was true as his hard cock pressed against your ass.

“You’d think it’s your birthday or somethin’ with how many times I’ve made you come already,” he teased, growling in your ear as he shifted to move his hips against you, his mouth planting eager kisses on your neck.

You squirmed slightly, faking like you were trying to move away, only to be pulled right back into him again where his body practically encased all of yours.

His scruffy face tickled your neck, his breath on your skin adding to the sensation, and the more you moved and rubbed yourself against his cock, the more he retaliated.

“You lookin’ to get fucked again, huh?” he threatened, shifting to move on top of you, grabbing your wrists and pinning them down on both pillows.

You giggled more, accepting your terrible fate, your laugh fading out into a needy moan as he nudged your legs apart with his knees and leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, claiming kiss.

“What do you want, baby?” he asked, his voice rough and low as he peered down at you trapped under him.

You bit your lower lip and lifted your hips, “Hmm, I don’t know.”

His fingers tightened around your wrists and pushed them harder into the pillows, a warning as he dipped to your neck and sucked hard on it.

“That’s not an answer,” he said sternly. “It’s your birthday and you need to tell me what you want, or you’re gonna lose the opportunity to choose.”

His words made your pulse quicken, and still hesitating to give him a proper answer, you waited for him to decide for you.

A malicious smile tugged at his lips and he cocked his head to the side as if telling of your mistake, and the look in his eyes made your stomach flip and your cunt ache, knowing you weren’t about to be disappointed.

“Alright, birthday girl,” he purred, his eyes floating up and down your spread and readied body in a way that showed you belonged to him.

He dove to meet your lips, forcing his tongue in your mouth deeply and claiming, stealing your breath while his hands continued to hold your arms in place above your head.

Showing little restraint, he parted from you, hungrily looking at your heaving chest before taking one of your nipples in his mouth, the comforting heat of his tongue contrasting with how his lips sucked it almost painfully tight. You gasped and moved as much as you could, your arms pressing up against his grip only to have him reinstate his strength.

A low chuckle rumbled through him as he pulled your hard nipple between his teeth, clearly satisfied with your reaction, the goosebumps that littered your skin undisguisable.

Finally having your wrists released, you automatically brought your hands to his head, your fingers raking through his short, sandy blond hair that was messy from hours in bed already, keeping them there as he slowly slunk down your body and settled his shoulders between your legs.

The satisfied hum that sounded when he inhaled your scent made you whine, your hips lifting in hopes he would relieve the ache where his mouth hovered, only to be tortured further when his lips met your inner thigh instead.

He smiled against your skin as your wordless complaints grew, hooking his arms under your legs to access you better, but continued to kiss you everywhere but where you were desperate for him.

After what felt like an eternity of purposeful evasion, his mouth finally met your throbbing cunt, his approving moan overpowered by your cry as his tongue swiped through your wet folds before sucking your clit, two of his fingers driving in at the same time.

Your back arched off the bed but Will helped keep you down, digging his face deeper into you while his fingers hooked to stroke your g-spot, the combination already lethal.

Alternating flicking his tongue and sucking your clit, he worked his fingers at a steady pace, dragging them in and out of you until both his hand and his face were soaked, your pleasured cries a script he would memorize and recount.

Will was ravenous but did his best to keep his composure, wanting this to be all about you despite wanting to bury himself in you so deep and so hard until you were full of his cum, but the longer he stayed between your legs, the more he struggled to hold back.

The taste and smell of you drove him insane with need, and the way his fingers were warmed by your body heat made his cock jealous, his resolve shattering.

“Fuck, baby,” he hissed, quickly climbing up and over top of you where he pushed his leaking dick in your hole.

Your nails scratched at his back, clawing and marking him proudly as you moaned against his mouth when he dipped down to kiss you, transferring your taste to your tongue without shame.

He pounded into you in long, hard thrusts, feeling his muscles flexing as his body worked to fuck you what felt like better than ever as if that was even possible.

Breaking your sloppy kiss, he glanced down at you, watching your tits bounce to the rhythm set by his lower body, in awe of how blissed out you looked as your eyes fluttered closed and your mouth hung open, spilling out the sweetest sounds brought on by him.

You began to clench around him, tightening on his cock as a warning of your undoing, and cruelly, he quickly pulled out.

He wasted no time in shifting down so his face was between your legs again, licking you enough to make up for what he just ripped away from you, your body jolting against him.

His tongue replaced where his cock had been, fucking you with it until you were writhing again, your hands desperately grasping at his hair and shoulders for some sort of reprieve.

He peeled away for a moment, teasing you more, his finger gently tracing your entrance.

“Look at you, all stretched out from my cock…” he rasped, his tone slightly unhinged and prideful, the sight of what his body had done to yours turning him feral.

Will dove back in, hungrier than before, bringing you right back to the edge with his talented mouth alone, the addition of his fingers threatening what he was trying to prolong.

His other hand kneaded your hip, massaging and grabbing at your soft curves in the same tempo he kept with his mouth, doing everything he could to make you feel as good as possible.

“Fuck…Will…” you called, your words breathy and needy, the sound of his name making his cock twitch against the bedding.

His nose nudged your clit with every movement of his lips and tongue on your pussy, and the more your pleasure rang out, the harder he worked, his goal to get both of you as close to the edge as he could without tipping you over.

“Will, I'm gonna–oh my god! I'm gonna come,” you wailed, your walls tightening around his fingers as he practically lifted you off the bed with how aggressively he was eating you.

He stopped everything, leaving you trembling as your breath caught in your throat.

“Hang on, sweetheart,” he panted, sitting on the mattress while pulling at your hands as he gave a short nod to his lap, his cock ready for you to sit on.

Your mouth watered as you shifted over to him, seeing just how painfully hard and throbbing he was, the tip of him pink and leaking heavily, the veins on his shaft more pronounced than usual.

You mounted him slowly, using his broad shoulders to steady yourself only to be forced down roughly, his dick spearing into you in one harsh, but euphoric push.

“Good girl,” he breathed, his mouth beside your ear while one arm snaked around your back, his other hand stroking your hair soothingly. “You ride that cock, beautiful.”

You did just that, rocking yourself on him in a broken pattern, your whole body moving as he thrusted hard up into you.

His coarse pubes created the perfect friction on your swollen clit, and despite the soft mattress bouncing to your motions in this position, Will proved to be the most solid and sure frame to ride that would get you to your high.

“That's it- fuck!” he hissed, speaking through gritted teeth. “You like when I fuck you hard, don't you?”

You nodded quickly, squeezing your eyes tight as you clawed at his upper back, your cries increasing as your orgasm ripped through you.

Will watched you, holding your hip down to keep himself as deep in you as he could be, the other supporting you both on the mattress behind him, mesmerized by how perfect you looked falling apart on his cock.

You jerked and quivered, losing control of everything as you continued to roll your hips on him, the constriction of your cunt making him blow his load with a hard grunt.

His teeth dragged over your hammering pulse as he stuttered and spilled all he had in you, filling you with his hot, thick cum while you both continued to move, neither of you willing to stop.

“Fuck,” you giggled, coming back down to earth as the slippery mess leaking out of you made you shiver.

You smiled at him, beaming, the way he looked at you making your heart flip in your chest.

“You're so fucking gorgeous,” he breathed, his blue eyes bright as he ran his hand over your hair, looking at you like you were the best thing he'd ever seen.

Feeling like a goddess and slightly bashful to his blatant worship of you, you bit your lip and leaned into him, resting your forehead against his.

Will captured your lips, kissing you deeply until he broke away with a low, hungry growl, pulling you down with him as he collapsed onto the sheets.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” he smiled, continuing to admire you.

He grabbed behind your knee and hooked your leg up onto his hip, rolling over to pin you under his crushing weight as he kissed your neck roughly.

Your laugh filled the room, the scruff of his beard tickling you wildly, squirming against him despite the hold he had on you.

“Has it been a good day?”

You hummed, thinking just how perfect it had been.

“The best birthday ever.”

---

Taglist:

@dailydragon08 @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul

@maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @casa-boiardi

@stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics @spaghettificationandpretzels

@whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02 @daryldixonpls @puffins-muffins

[navybrat817]

Love Isn't Enough

Pairing: Dark!Jax Teller x Female Reader

Summary: You love Jax, but not enough to stay.

Word Count: Almost 1.5k

Warnings: Angst, implied dubcon/noncon, attempted breakup, bittersweet ending, Jax Teller (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy. @writercole requested Jax Teller and a visit Under the Boardwalk (dark) with prompt #38 in bold. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You zipped up your bag after you put the last of your clothes inside. You expected a weight in your chest as you looked around the bedroom, but you weren’t upset at all. The place looked lived in, but it wasn’t a home. Charming was no longer your home. You could practically see the smirk on Jax’s face as he said “I told you so” since he suggested for you to leave and settle down somewhere else a long time ago. You didn’t listen then, but you were taking his advice now.

It was time to move on.

“I’m all about that fairy tale, baby.”

While you felt nothing when you packed your bag, your heart ached with each step you took. Jax Teller loved you and you didn’t want to leave him behind, especially when you still loved him, too. Just because the love was there didn’t mean you had support or respect. Not the way the club did. They would have a part of Jax that you would never quite reach and they couldn’t expect you to just fall in line or keep your mouth shut when your man did something dangerous or worse.

“You wanna be an old lady? Act like it. Do what you're told!”

There was something wet on your cheeks when you went to grab your keys. You sniffled as you wiped them with the back of your hand. When did you start crying? How many tears had you shed over the man who promised not to break your heart? It was tiring putting yourself back together and no amount of amazing sex or empty words could fully seal the cracks.

If your relationship taught you anything it was that love wasn’t always enough.

You didn’t regret it though. Life was too short for regrets. You got to experience love and many couldn’t say the same. You weren’t sure if you’d ever meet someone who sparked as much passion within you as Jax had, but you hoped he could defeat his demons without you tethered to him. Both of you could forge your paths and maybe they’d one day merge again.

“I love you, baby.”

“I’m sorry, Jax,” you whispered into the darkness of the living room.

“What are you sorry for?”

The keys fell from your hand as you spun toward the couch, your heart close to beating free from your chest. The flame from Jax’s lighter illuminated his face from where he sat and for a moment he looked like a demon, tortured and beautiful. He flipped on the lamp beside him and took a long drag from his cigarette, his stormy eyes drifting to the suitcase before they went back to you. His normally slicked back hair appeared disheveled as he blew out of a puff of smoke, like he couldn’t stop running his fingers through it.

He still took your breath away whenever you laid your eyes on him.

As much as you wanted to go to him and pull on those strands as you rode him, you wouldn’t. Sex wasn’t going to steer you from your decision. Besides, he used it as a weapon and you didn’t have the strength to clean up your wounds when you walked away.

“I didn’t hear you come home,” you answered.

He tilted his head and took another drag. “You’re sorry that you didn’t hear me come home?”

You swallowed as his gaze went back to your bag. “No, I’m sorry because I’m heading out,” you said, your stomach sinking as the words hung in the air.

Jax continued to smoke and you didn’t dare move as he took his time, the familiar scent of the smoke doing nothing to ease your nerves. You almost wished he yelled or destroyed something instead of stewing in silence. It put you on edge.

“And where the fuck do you think you’re going?” He finally asked, his voice so quiet you almost missed the question.

“I don’t know yet,” you said, tears springing to your eyes as he put the cigarette in the ashtray and got to his feet. “I just can't stay here.”

“So, you’re not just heading out. You’re going away. You’re leaving me,” he stated, clenching his fists as you moved back. He didn’t sound surprised. Just hurt and angry. Hurting him was the last thing you wanted to do.

“You told me to leave a long time ago. I should’ve left then, but I loved you and I thought that was enough for us,” you explained, a tear sliding down your cheek. You couldn’t back down though. “I still love you and I probably always will, but you’re married to the club. That’s your true love and I’m tired of fighting a losing battle.”

The stricken look he gave you almost made you apologize, but it was too late to turn back. “I’m the President and the club is family, but they aren’t you.”

“Jax-”

“Come here. Now,” he ordered, but there was a familiar gentleness in his gaze that he only showed with those he cared for. It was almost enough to make you cave. “Just sit and talk to me. We can figure this out.”

You slowly shook your head. “There isn't anything to figure out.”

“So, that’s it then? You're leaving?” He asked, raking a hand through his hair. “How many times do I have to prove to you that I love you? But no, it’s never good enough for you, is it? Love isn’t enough?” He scoffed when you shook your head again. “That’s bullshit. I need you and you need me, so don’t just-”

“That’s just it, Jax! I don’t need you!” You snapped. Both of your eyes went wide and you weren’t sure which one of you was more stunned by the statement. “When I did need you, you weren’t there. The club always has and always will come first. My eyes are finally open to that.”

“Baby…” he breathed out, his shoulders falling when you held up a hand.

“I love you. I do,” you promised. God, you loved him so much it fucking hurt. The pain had to end at some point. “But I don’t need you or this life. Not anymore. I’m done.”

You needed to say the words, so why did they feel hollow?

Jax snapped himself out of whatever shock he was in before he stomped toward you. With a gasp, you backed yourself against the wall. He never raised a hand toward you, but you had seen that fire in his eyes before. Anyone in his path ended up destroyed by that fury. Would he leave you on the ground in a pile of ash?

“You aren’t leaving me. We aren’t done,” He grabbed your chin, his grip tender when he could’ve crushed you. He pointed toward the bedroom, but kept his eyes on you so you knew how serious he was. “So unpack that bag and get it in our fucking bed.”

You searched his gaze, trying to find a trace of the man you loved instead of the stranger in front of you. “You can’t make me stay.”

He crushed his lips against yours, drawing a whimper from you. This wasn’t the kind of passion he typically showed you. This was a form of control. Like the club, he wanted you to bend to his will. Make you submit. Could you do that?

Was it safer or cowardly to give in?

It didn’t hurt so much when you opened your mouth to him and let him take over. The dull ache between your thighs would fade quicker than the cut to your heart. A betrayal of a moan escaped as his tongue dueled with yours. It didn’t take him long at all to win that battle. Jax would always win.

Was it worth fighting even if you lost? Yes. At least that way you could say even if you didn't win that you tried.

You couldn’t take a breath even when his mouth left yours. His lips left a blazing trail toward your ear, but it left you cold instead of warm. “Yes, I fucking can,” he snarled, your legs shaking as he pulled you away from the wall. “Tell me the club means more to me when I’m inside you. See if you can leave me when I’m fucking you into our mattress and showing you how much I love you.”

“Jax, please,” you begged, trying to pull free from his hold as he dragged you to the bedroom. He wouldn’t force you to sleep with him, would he?

“Beg all you want, baby. I won’t stop ‘til you know your place is here with me.”

Was this why Jax told you to leave a long time ago? To save you from the man he had become? It didn’t matter. It was too late to escape.

And maybe, in his own twisted way, he’d prove that love would be enough this time around.

I hope I did this justice! Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[stealfromthedevil]

Sweet Disposition

A Jax Teller fic for my beautiful @laurfilijames

Chapter one: Cake and a comeback.

Word count: 2806

Depictions of violence, mentions of drugs and weapons, smoking, sexual tension, and sexual frustration.

The thunderous roar of motorcycle engines shattered the evening calm as the California sun bled across the horizon, casting knife-sharp shadows over the oil-stained concrete of the Teller-Morrow garage. The air hung thick with the acrid bite of exhaust fumes and the metallic tang of motor oil, while the dying light painted everything in shades of amber and rust. Jax Teller leaned against his pristine Dyna like a predator at rest, arms crossed over his leather kutte, a Marlboro dangling from lips that had charmed their way out of more trouble than they'd caused. Every line of his body screamed danger wrapped in California cool—the kind of man mothers warned their daughters about, and daughters dreamed of anyway.

Beside him, Tig perched on a milk crate like something feral, his pale eyes gleaming as he tinkered with engine parts with surgical precision, grease-stained fingers moving with the same deadly grace he used to handle his weapons. Chibs stood nearby, his Scottish brogue carrying over the rumble of engines as he broke down some club business to a nervous prospect whose hands shook every time the Scotsman's scarred face turned his way.

It was just another blood-orange sunset in Charming—until she walked into their world like a lamb strolling into a den of wolves.

She appeared at the garage entrance like a vision from some other life, her honey-golden brown hair catching the dying sunlight and throwing it back in waves of liquid fire. Those piercing green eyes swept the scene with the wariness of prey that had learned to recognize predators, but her spine stayed straight, her chin lifted in defiance of every survival instinct screaming at her to run. She looked as out of place as a Sunday dress at a funeral, yet she carried herself like she was ready to steal the world or at least take a slice.

"Can we help you, sweetheart?" Chibs called out, his grin sharp as broken glass, taking in every curve of her slender frame with the appreciative eye of a man who knew quality when he saw it.

Jax straightened slowly, cigarette smoke curling from his nostrils as he intently studied her. Something in those green eyes promised trouble. The kind that got under a man's skin and stayed there.

"I need to talk to you," she said, and though her voice started steady, it cracked just enough to reveal the fear she was trying so hard to hide. "It's urgent."

The word hung in the air like a challenge. Chibs raised an eyebrow, his scarred features shifting between amusement and curiosity. "You're in dangerous territory if it's protection you're after, lass. This ain't exactly the neighborhood watch."

"I'm looking for protection from the Mayans." Her voice found its strength again, but the way her hands trembled at her sides betrayed the terror eating her alive from the inside. "They've been targeting my bakery. Extortion, intimidation—the works. I've got nowhere else to turn."

The temperature in the garage seemed to drop ten degrees. Jax exchanged a loaded glance with Tig and Chibs, the air suddenly thick enough to choke on. The Mayans were rabid dogs who bit first and asked questions later, and if they were circling this sweet piece of sunshine with her small-town bakery, things were about to get bloody.

"I can pay," she continued, desperation creeping into her voice like smoke under a door. Those green eyes blazed with a fierce determination that stirred something primal in Jax's gut. "I just need them scared off. I can't run my business with them breathing down my neck, taking whatever they want, smashing up my stock like it's some game."

Jax pushed off his bike with fluid grace, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his boot with deliberate slowness. The small violence was somehow ominous in the gathering darkness. 

"Hold up there, sweetheart," Jax said, his voice cutting through the tension as he stepped closer. "Before we go any further down this rabbit hole, I should probably know what to call you. Name's Jax, by the way." His blue eyes studied her face with renewed interest as if seeing her clearly for the first time.

"Lauren," she replied, extending her hand with surprising confidence given the circumstances. "Lauren Miller."

"Lauren," he repeated, testing the name on his tongue like he was tasting a fine wine. The way he said it made her pulse quicken - rough and smooth simultaneously, with an undertone that suggested he'd be repeating it under very different circumstances. 

"You sure you want to dance with devils, sweetheart?" His steel-blue gaze locked onto hers with laser intensity. "This world ain't exactly sugar cookies and Sunday school. Once you're in, the blood never washes off."

She stepped closer, and he caught the subtle scent of vanilla and something warmer—maybe amber—that made his mouth water. The fire ignited in those green depths, transforming her from a frightened girl to a fierce woman in a heartbeat. "I'm not afraid. I didn't come crawling here to walk away empty-handed. I'll do whatever it takes to protect what's mine."

Tig's laughter cracked through the tension like a whip. "Damn, this one's got titanium ovaries. I fucking like her already!"

"Alright, sweetheart," Jax murmured, a predatory smirk ghosting across his lips as he drank at the sight of her—all fire and determination wrapped up in summer cotton. "We'll help you. But understand this—" He stepped closer, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to hold his stare, close enough that he could see the pulse hammering in the hollow of her throat. "Once you jump into our world, there's no climbing back out. It gets dirty. It gets bloody."

"Dirty doesn't scare me," she shot back, her chin lifting in the challenge.

A spark ignited between them—raw, electric, dangerous as a live wire in a rainstorm. The air crackled with enough sexual tension to power the city, but Jax forced himself to lock it down, filing it away for later consideration.

He tried to keep his focus on her words, but Christ, the way that sundress hugged every curve like it had been painted on made his concentration scatter like buckshot. The fabric clung to her in all the right places, and the fading light seemed to worship every line of her body, pulling at his attention like gravity.

"It started small," she explained, her voice steady despite the frustration bleeding through. "A couple of Mayans started showing up at Sweet Cravings—made sure I knew exactly who they were like they were proud of it. At first, they helped themselves to the inventory, which was nothing I couldn't absorb. Then came the 'protection money'—a few hundred here and there, wrapped up in pretty words about insurance. But I knew extortion when I saw it."

Her hands clenched into fists as she continued, anger overriding fear. "Last week, one of them cornered me in the back room. Destroyed my display cases with a baseball bat while I watched, then got real specific about what would happen if I didn't play ball. Said they'd torch the place with me inside." Her voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "They're using my shop as a stash house too—I've seen them hiding packages in the alley, probably drugs or worse. It's destroying everything I've built."

Jax felt his jaw clench, violence stirring in his chest like a caged animal. The way her sundress outlined every curve was distracting as hell, but the raw vulnerability in her voice cut through the lust like a blade. "Sounds like escalation," he said, his voice rougher than intended. "They're testing boundaries, seeing how far they can push before you break."

The way her long lashes fluttered against her cheeks did things to his insides that had nothing to do with club business and everything to do with the way her lips parted just slightly, like an invitation he wasn't sure he had the strength to decline.

She nodded, anxiety and hope warring in her expression. "I don't know how to repay you for this."

Jax paused, his gaze lingering on her mouth for a heartbeat too long before dragging back to meet her eyes. "Well, sweetheart, no time like the present to get our hands dirty. Take me to your bakery, show me these packages. You and I'll keep it low-key, gather intel without rattling any cages." His tone was all business, but the hunger in his stare suggested his interest went far beyond club politics.

Tig elbowed Chibs with a knowing smirk, his voice carrying just loud enough for everyone to hear. "Oh, he's got it bad. Real fucking bad."

Chibs chuckled, shaking his head like a man watching a train wreck in slow motion. "Aye, poor bastard doesn't even see it coming."

Jax shot them both a look that could have cut through steel. "Mind your own goddamn business, boys. We've got work to do."

Turning back to her, he gestured toward his gleaming Dyna. "We'll take my bike. Faster than a cage, and it draws less heat."

Her eyes flicked to the motorcycle with curiosity and apprehension. "I've never been on one before."

Jax's smirk turned wicked, his mind already painting pictures of her arms wrapped around him, her body pressed against his back. But he kept his voice casual, professional. "Trust me, sweetheart. It's the only way to travel. Just hold on tight, and I'll keep you safe."

She carefully approached the bike, accepting the helmet Jax offered with hands that trembled just slightly. She swung her leg over the seat behind him, the movement hiking her sundress up dangerously high on her thighs before she could smooth it back down. The leather seat was still warm from the California sun, and she had to scoot forward until her body was pressed flush against Jax's back, her chest molding to the broad expanse of his shoulders.

"Hold on tight," he instructed, his voice rougher than before as he felt her settle against him.

Her arms encircled his waist, fingers splaying across the hard planes of his abdomen through his shirt. She could feel every muscle, every breath he took, the steady thrum of his heartbeat against her palms. Her thighs bracketed his hips, and when he kicked the engine to life, the vibration traveled through both their bodies in waves that made her grip tighten instinctively.

As they pulled away from the garage, her body molded itself to his with each turn and acceleration. Her hair whipped behind them in the wind, and she pressed closer, using his solid frame as an anchor against the rush of speed and adrenaline. Every curve in the road pushed her more firmly against him, her breasts flattening against his back, her breath warm against his neck through the gap between his helmet and collar.

The intimate press of their bodies, the way she had to trust him completely as they leaned into turns, created a cocoon of tension that had nothing to do with the dangerous business ahead and everything to do with the heat building between them.

The Dyna's engine cut off with a final growl as Jax pulled up outside Sweet Cravings, the sudden silence almost deafening after the road's symphony. The bakery's neon sign flickered weakly in the gathering darkness, casting sickly pink light over the storefront, but the air felt wrong. Thick with California heat and the kind of menace that lingered after the trouble was gone.

She slid off the bike with unsteady grace, her legs still buzzing from the ride. Her hands lingered on Jax's shoulders longer than necessary as she found her balance; Jax dismounted with fluid precision, his eyes scanning for threats. However, they kept drifting back to trace the elegant curve of her neck, the way her pulse fluttered visibly in the hollow of her throat.

"Here we are," she said softly, her voice carrying an edge of steel wrapped in silk. She smoothed down her sundress—the fabric still clinging sinfully from the wind—and moved toward the entrance with determined steps. Jax followed close enough to catch her scent. The now-familiar combination of vanilla and amber made his blood run hot.

Their hands collided at the door handle, reaching simultaneously, the contact sending electricity shooting up both of their arms. Her fingers lingered against his, the touch light but loaded with voltage. She didn't pull away immediately, letting the moment stretch. Her green eyes flicked up to meet his in a glance that spoke volumes about want and hunger and the kind of trouble that started with good intentions—maybe even the best. 

Jax exhaled sharply, his blue eyes darkening to storm-cloud gray as he held her stare, his thumb brushing against her skin with deliberate intent. The unspoken tension coiled between them like a loaded spring, all promise and peril and the kind of heat that burned down everything in its path. Finally, he stepped back, gesturing for her to enter first. "After you," he murmured, his voice dropping to gravel, laced with undercurrents that quickened her pulse.

Inside, the bakery told a story of violence in broken glass and shattered dreams. The air still held traces of sugar and yeast, but chaos had carved its signature into every surface. Smashed display cases littered the floor like crystalline teeth, their contents ground into the linoleum in a paste of frosting and malice. A toppled pastry rack lay dying in the corner. Near the storage area leading to the alley, suspicious packages squatted like malignant tumors among the baking supplies—neatly wrapped bundles that had nothing to do with flour and everything to do with the kind of business that left bodies in ditches.

She turned to face him in the cramped space, forcing her to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact. "This is what I meant," she said, her voice steady despite the rage simmering beneath the surface. She gestured toward the destruction, her hand close enough to his that he could feel the heat radiating from her skin. "They came through last night like a hurricane. Told me this was just a taste of what would happen if I kept being 'difficult.'"

Jax stepped closer, his presence filling the available space, leather creaking softly as he surveyed the carnage. His gaze lingered on her lips as they formed words, tracing the delicate freckles scattered across her sun-kissed skin before forcing himself to focus on business. "Sloppy work, but effective intimidation. And they're using your place as a waystation." He crouched to examine one of the packages, but half his attention remained fixed on how she stood so close, how her scent seemed to wrap around him like smoke in the confined space.

She knelt beside him, their shoulders almost touching, the air between them humming with that same electric current that had been building all evening. "I found these stashed in the alley," she whispered, her voice intimate in the quiet destruction. "At first, I thought it was just trash, but…" Her fingers grazed his forearm as she pointed, another fleeting touch that sent sparks racing through their nervous systems; when she glanced at him, her eyes locked onto his and held the desire naked enough to taste.

Jax straightened slowly, turning to face her fully, the space between them narrowing to nothing. "You're tougher than you look, handling this level of shit without falling apart," he said, admiration and something hungrier coloring his tone. His hand moved instinctively toward her waist before he caught himself, clenching his fist to resist the pull.

She met his stare head-on, a small, knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth despite their surroundings. "I've had to be. But it's good to have someone dangerous on my side for once." She stepped closer, eliminating the last inches between them, heat building like a furnace as she continued, "What happens next? With the packages… with everything else?"

He leaned in, his eyes dropping to her mouth in a hungry glance before snapping back up to meet her gaze. "We eliminate the problem, make sure the Mayans understand the new rules of engagement. But first, I must know you're committed to seeing this through to the bloody end." His words carried the weight of violence and promise, but the way his voice softened on the last part made it clear there was more at stake than just club business.

She swallowed hard, color rising in her cheeks under his predatory stare. The sexual tension coiled between them like a living thing, like a serpent lying in waiting for its inevitable kill, making rational thought nearly impossible. "I'm all in," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

The words make clear the double meaning that neither needed to be voiced.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Weighted Blanket

Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 860+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Chatting about what a great weighted blanket this man would make and so I dedicate this to @laurfilijames. This was not beta read.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Will Miller Masterlist

Today had been the day from hell. You knew it would be, especially since you’d been out for several days being sick. Morning meetings ran long, everyone scrambling to prepare to open, and then the patients? Don’t even get me started. 

When I finally get into my car at the end of the day, I turn on the ac and rest my head against the headrest taking several deep breaths, just listening to the vents pumping cool air into my hot car. I just have to make it home. A shower is waiting for me and Will should be home today.

Will. 

My amazing boyfriend of a year and a half. Will had to go away for work for a few days and was finally coming home. I know a few days isn’t that long but it killed him to leave me when I was sick. And to be honest, I hated not having him there, sick or not. 

His truck is in the parking lot when I pull in and I smile knowing he’s upstairs. I hurry to our apartment and push my key in the lock, quickly shedding my shoes and tossing my bag down on the little side table before heading towards the kitchen, where sounds and a delicious, heavenly smell were emanating from. I lean against the door frame, just taking in the sight of him. Will, standing at the stove with his back to me, casually making my favorite food, his hair still wet from a shower, navy blue shirt stretched thin over his broad back and thick arms, grey sweatpants hung low on his hips. He clicks off the burner and divvy’s the food onto 2 plates before turning, his face lighting up when he sees me.

“Hey, sweetheart. How was work?” When I don’t answer right away, he let’s out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”

I nod, pushing off the door frame. “Nothing I didn’t anticipate. Still sucked though.”

“You hungry?”

“Starving. But first I need to shower. I feel so gross.”

Will sets the plates down and takes a few large steps towards me. He moves for a hug and damn do I want one, but I’m gross. People actually spit up on me today. So I sigh, stepping back and Will puts his hands up, freezing in place. 

“Must have been really bad.”

“You don’t even want to know.”

He winks and blows a kiss at me, turning back to finish up dinner. The shower was glorious, the hot water and bubbles relaxing me somewhat, and washing away all of the gross from my skin and hair. I don’t linger, my stomach grumbling as I pull on some pajamas and head straight for the kitchen table, where Will had just set down drinks for us. Before I sit, he pulls me to him, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his hands cradling my face. 

“I missed you, sweetheart.”

“I really missed you too, Will.” He starts to deepen the kiss, but is interrupted by the loudest grumble yet from my traitor of a stomach. He laughs, placing a hand on my tummy. 

“Let’s get some food in you.”

—----

Dinner was delicious, as usual when Will cooks. It’s not just that he follows the recipe to a t, but he has his own personal flair to it. Will’s cooking can make any sour mood turn sweet. Or maybe that’s just me. 

After our bellies are full, we sit on the couch and I curl my body against his, feeling his large arm wrap around me, the warmth from him seeping into my bones. He kisses the top of my head and rests his own there, both of us content to just be with the other. But my day was hard and before long, I feel my eyelids drooping. Will must have noticed because I swear I blinked and somehow ended up in bed, Will pulling the blankets up around me before crawling in next to me. He tries to pull me to him, but it’s not what I need. He crooks his finger under my chin, lifting my head to look at him through sleepy eyes. 

“Do you need Will blanket?” I nod, my eyes barely open. 

Will helps me lay down on my back, making sure my pillow is adjusted before he drapes half his body over mine, linking one of his muscular legs with mine as he tucks himself over me. His arm drapes over my body, rubbing small circles into my opposite arm. I turn my head and realize my nose is in the perfect spot to nuzzle into his hair, so I do it, inhaling the scent of him. The weight of him on me settles my nerves, the last bit of overstimulation and wired emotions leeching from my body the longer I feel his breathing, his body pressing into mine. 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too.”

It’s so tender and loving, full of care and I think about how much I love this man as he gently lulls me to sleep.

In the morning, he has different plans for me and I’m so glad I got the rest I needed.

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry @mysterious-moonstruck-musings

[pennyold]

William Miller shutting your mouth so your parents don't find out what you do at night | p n v, dirty talk and pervert!william

a/n: this is a peak of dbf!william, so umm hope u like it and want more bout Charlie Hunnam cuz he’s so hot and gives dilf vibes hehe. Quick update: the Joel series i made will be updated every Tuesday because i’ll have content with the tlou second season!!

main masterlist ↲

peace and love, penny ★

He was pounding you from behind, making your ass bounce every time his thrusts hit your uterus. You stifled your moans and cries into the pillow as if it was soft enough to muffle them. "Shut up," he said in your ear, pressing his heavy, hot breath against you. You bit your lip while tightening his cock, feeling like you were about to come. "You want them to find out that I fuck you every night, don't you? Would you like that?" You denied it while pressing your inner walls, squeezing him again. "Shit, I'm gonna cum inside if you keep squeezing me like that, sweetheart."

You ignored him, so he wrapped your breasts, which he sucked before, and now they were very sensitive. "No, no, oh god," you gasped, whimpering and writhing beneath him. Your folds dripping with your juices and your entrance sucking Will's hard cock. "This is what you get for not shutting your mouth," he thrusts hard, "and disobeying me," then you cum, letting all your wetness cover his cock. Will puts his hand over your mouth and muffles your moans, preventing the escape of your guttural sounds.

Will held back, keeping his cock warm inside you, wanting to cum outside of you. He roughly turned you over and placed you back on the mattress, you looked at him ecstatically, delighted. You looked at his cock, glistening due to your juices and his pre-cum that had stuck to your inner walls. He jerked letting the fold over his cock cover the tip, bringing him to climax. "Are you going to behave and let me spread my cum on you?" you nodded, looking at him. "That's it" Without further ado, his ropes of cum spread over your chest and belly, staining the sheets equally.

Slowly, you ran a finger over a drop that had fallen on your belly, picked it up, and sucked your finger, leaving it clean. "Mmh," you smiled while Will maintained a serious expression, while his cock hardened again. "I fucking hate you," he said. You smiled upon hearing his words and propped yourself up on your elbows, wanting to get up, but Will slammed you back onto the mattress, pinning you with his arms. "Yeah? Even so, you like fucking me," you said playfully, then he grabbed you by the roots of your hair and pulled it very close to his face "Yes, even more, when you can't hold back your moans."

divider: @/enchanthings-a

[steviebbboi]

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge!

Howdy lads~ exciting news to share:

I just reached a 200 follower count on Tumblr 🎉🎉🎉

I kinda can't believe it? Writing is indeed good for my soul. Interacting with y'all on here has helped me with my mental and emotional wellness due to just finding such great community on here. Thank you for giving me the space to write and for following along/supporting in my writing journey 💖

With that spiel spoken, I wanted to host a writing challenge in celebration of this milestone! *squealing because i'm so excited to host*

Stevie BB 200 Followers Celebration Writing Challenge Masterlist

*you'll find all writing submissions and writing requests (answered) at the link above*

You could participate by sending in either:

✨ writing request via my Asks (💙)

and/or

✨ writing submissions (💥).

General Rules:

the challenge will start October 1st until the end of November (flexible on late entries for submissions only💥; let's say till mid-December or so).

I'll read/write for Chris Evans characters, Henry Cavill Characters, and Charlie Hunnam characters [and Bucky Barnes specifically lol] (these are my preferences but if there are other characters that you'd like to bring in, just ask me)!

for writing requests 💙, i will only be accepting requests (2 max/person; pls do not send more than 2 asks!) until the end of November.

for writing submissions 💥, go wild! submit as many as you like!

you can do both (send in a writing request 💙 AND send in a writing submission(s)💥) if you want to; rules still apply for the requests though.

use at least one prompt within your request 💙/submissions💥 from the lists below (but def. go crazy if you wanna use more than one! you don't have to claim any prompts).

works can be inclusive! poc, gender neutral, neurodivergencies, mid size/plus size/curvy readers are encouraged!

No word limits but please use a 'read more' after 200 words

Works can be part of an existing series but must be able to stand on their own

tag me @steviebbboi and use the tags #bbboi200celebration and #steviebbboiwritingchallenge in your entry so i can read/reblog your work! (If I somehow lose sight of your submission, please remind me and I'll take a look at it right away ☺���)

Most important one: Have fun!

How To Play:

✨ You must be 18+ to participate in this challenge!

✨ Choose one (or multiple 😏) BB's:

Chris Evans Characters

Steve Rogers/Captain America

Ransom Drysdale

Ari Levinson

Frank Adler

Curtis Everett

Andy Barber

Hayden/Harvard Hottie

Nick Gant

Jake Jensen

Johnny Storm

Lloyd Hansen

Henry Cavill Characters

Clark Kent

Napoleon Solo

Geralt of Rivia

August Walker

Charlie Hunnam Characters

Jax Teller

Raymond Smith *extra brownie pts if you write about him omg*

King Arthur

Sebastian Stan

Bucky Barnes [he's all by himself im so sorry lmfao 🥹]

✨ Choose one (or more) of the following prompts:

*if you don't want to write smut, you don't have to choose anything from the kinks prompt! feel free to only use the following two prompts :)

soft dom!BB

clothes/naked ratio

size kink

slow and deep 👀

breeding kink (non-pregnancy version)

somnophilia

free use

cockwarming

belly bulge

Squirting

consensual non-con

consensual dub-con

cumeating

creampie

anal/or dp

possessive/or protective manhandling!BB

oral sex

orgasm delay

dumbification

daddy/princess kink

overstimulation

sex pollen

prone bone

cockdrunk

threesome (BB/Reader/BB)

ass/pussy spanking

mild degradation

body worshipping

quickie/don't get caught (public sex, threats of exhibitionism, etc.) 😏

Grouchybb! who is only soft with you

Married and loyal!spouse

A/B/O

lumberjack!bb who is a teddy bear on the inside tho

mob AU

biker AU

soulmate AU

mutual pining/idiots in love

childhood besties to lovers

reformed playboy

professor AU

supernatural/mythical (gods, sirens, werewolves, witches, vampires, ghosts, oh my!)

frenemies to lovers

fwb to lovers

locked in AU/forced proximity

medieval AU

fake dating/relationship

sharing one bed

polar opposites attract

break up and make up

spy AU

meet cute

cowboy AU

gentle recluse!BB

brothers best friend!BB

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Yes, take it, slut"

"It's not that big of a deal."

"God, why do you always do this"

"You're impossible."

"Then I guess we gotta be quiet, huh?"

"We're trapped."

"Shh, you wouldn't want anyone to hear, or do you?"

"You're taking me so well, baby"

"Good girl" *for fem readers; adjust accordingly!*

"Tsk, uh-uh, c'mere, honey"

"You always feel so good around me, baby"

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Here, let me help you."

"Yeah, are you a cockhungry slut, now?"

"I hardly think that that's necessary."

"Don't be a brat, baby."

"Aw, does it feel good right there?"

"I'm sorry!"

"What do you want from me?!"

"I didn't mean to!"

"What do you think you're doing here?"

"Nope. Again."

"Don't worry, I got you."

"Just stay still, there you go."

"Just one more, I promise."

"C'mon, don't you wanna be good?"

"Stay over there!"

"You better hurry up, baby."

"Thaaaat's it, you're doing so well, honey."

"Uhm, I'm not sure that's going to work."

"Please, I'll beg, please!"

"Be honest."

"Be careful there, darlin'."

"Are you okay?"

"Are you sure you wanna go there?"

Scenarios? Any! Go. Wild.

✨ I love reading/writing angst w/HEA, soft dark (nothing too dark though), fluff and SMUT (as you can see w/the many many kinks).

no incest (stepcest is ok if tasteful lol), no infidelity, no watersports, no murder, no gore. if you're unsure if a trope is appropriate, ask me!

if im ever uncomfy with writing something, i will lyk and we can talk more about it to see if we could work with it!

feel free to ask any questions!

i think i got everything!

Have the best time, laddies~ thanks for celebrating with me!

All are welcome to join in the fun! ❣️

Tagging a few mutuals who may be interested but no pressure bbs:

@bigtreefest @mercurial-chuckles @stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm

@sweater-daddiesdumbdork @buckets-and-trees @hotdamnhunnam @laurfilijames

@autumnrose40 @eloquentlytired @misscherry-26 @stellar-solar-flare

@darsynia @navybrat817

[jackalopc]

there is nothing wrong with these kinds of fics/fanworks, but please, no one should have to block 50+ tags per fandom. at this point it's downright inhumane the work folks have to do, if they don't want to see this content. it is literally all folks are asking for - simple tags included like #x reader & #x self insert, et cetera.

it is everyone's individual responsibility to curate their own space; but no one can do that if folks aren't willing to tag things accurately and accessibly.

be kind, rewind tag accessibly!

[puffins-muffins]

Short hair Jax. Shower sex. Period comfort. And filthy praise?? You wrecked me! And the way he doesn’t even flinch at the blood??? You write him in the softest, dirtiest, most delicious way. 🥵🫠

Bless you for this! 🥲

A Bit of Relief

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 3.4k [Jax Fic Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; explicit sexual content, period sex in the shower, newly established relationship

Summary: When both of your schedules constantly conflict for two weeks and keep you from each other, Jax doesn't care that you're on your period.

a/n: I'm currently on shark week and miserable myself, I figured I'd write this little self-indulgent thing really quick. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Jax Teller one shot tag list: @kmc1989 @steviebbboi @bear-ink @secretlysamcro @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @bonnyclydecat @nutellajade @aria725 @f1samcro @kaydallas21 @nialiuwanderlust @sarraa-26 @uknowmesstuff @mmarysha @orymgraves @snowtargaryen @the-jer-bear @simonsbluee @bonni-98 @chloe-skywalker @sabrixna @tendertulip

Standing beneath the spray of your shower, the water cascaded over your shoulders, snaking its way down your naked body in warm rivulets. Eyelids slowly lowering as steam gradually filled the air, your right hand ran across the slippery skin of your abdomen in a slow circle, attempting to massage out the painful ache that’d been tormenting you since you’d woken. It was the second day of your period and the cramps had been so awful that you’d left your shift at St. Thomas a few hours early. Fortunately, the small hospital wasn’t busy today, which meant that no one really minded your absence.

You’d given Jax a quick call while you’d been driving back to your apartment just to let him know that you’d left work early, but truthfully you’d just missed the sound of his voice. It had been two weeks now that both of your schedules had been in constant conflict with each other, making it almost impossible for you to see each other. You’d only spent time with your boyfriend briefly in passing when Jax had stopped by to see you at the hospital, or sometimes just before falling asleep on the couple of nights he’d stayed over with you. Considering the relationship between you both was still relatively new, the lack of time spent together recently had been sheer torture. But to your surprise when you’d called Jax this afternoon, he’d informed you that the club was having a surprisingly slow and uneventful day, so you hadn’t hesitated to invite him over despite how miserable you felt.

Your plan had been to take a quick, warm shower while the ibuprofen you’d taken for your cramps once you’d gotten home slowly worked its way into your system. Trying to remain hopeful that either would help, you figured you’d be feeling at least marginally better by the time Jax had arrived at your apartment. But you must’ve lost track of time standing beneath the soothing spray of water in your shower focused on your painful cramps, because when the door to your bathroom opened and you heard Jax’s voice fill the small, steamy space, you jumped in surprise. Head darting over your shoulder to the steamed up glass of the shower door, you could just make out his form through it.

“Thought I heard you in here,” he said.

The second you saw the outline of him beginning to remove his leather kutte from his shoulders before setting it onto the edge of the bathroom counter, your eyes widened in horror at the possibility of him joining you in here while you were quite literally bleeding down the drain. The moment his hands grabbed onto the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head before tossing it to the bathroom floor, your suspicions were confirmed.

“Jax,” you called out hesitantly from inside the shower, catching the metal clink of his belt buckle as he undid it next, “what’re you doing?”

Through the steamy glass, you watched his hands slip into the waistband of both his jeans and boxer briefs before he pushed them down his legs in a single, swift motion. One after the other, his feet stepped out of the material that had sunk to the bathroom floor beside his discarded shirt. 

“What do you think I’m doin’, baby?” he replied, a playfulness to his tone. “Neither of us have shit goin’ on for once. You asked me to come over and I found you in the shower. So now I’m gettin’ in the damn shower.”

The glass door slid open in a smooth glide a second later, revealing Jax’s handsome smirking face and naked body entirely to you. As it had for the past week, his new short hairstyle briefly threw you off. You still weren’t quite used to seeing him without those long, shaggy strands especially with how little you had seen each other since he’d cut it. But then your tongue slipped out nervously along your lips as you became painfully aware of the cramps still tightening in your lower abdomen, the uncomfortable bloating of your stomach, and the occasional trickle of blood sliding down between your thighs and mixing with the water. You felt disgusting. This was not how you’d wanted him to see you this afternoon, especially not after having been missing him for two weeks.

“Yeah, but I just told you I was on my period, too,” you stated, as if that explained everything.

“So?” he asked.

Stepping into the shower behind you, he closed the glass door after himself just as your head turned forward, facing the shower wall in front of you again as you awkwardly focused on the gray tile. Either unaware or uncaring of your awkwardness, Jax slipped his hands around your waist before both of his calloused, warm palms began kneading at your stomach, just below your belly button. His hands easily glided along your skin with the slickness of the water as he pressed himself into your back. At the feel of his cock fitting right between your wet ass, you swallowed hard.

“So I’m on my period,” you repeated more firmly. 

“Maybe I just wanna help,” he murmured in a low rumble, his mouth lowering to just beside your ear. “You came home early from work not feelin’ good.” The tip of his nose gently brushed against your temple before he expelled a soft breath, the warmth of it passing over the side of your face. “Maybe I wanna help you feel good.”

Eyelids fluttering shut at his words, you felt your body unconsciously relaxing back against his solid, muscular one behind you. While his hands continued massaging your abdomen, you felt him beginning to slowly grind his cock against your ass, the appendage gradually stirring to life against your slick skin.

In all of your previous relationships, you’d never had a boyfriend or partner who even remotely wanted to touch you while on your period. While they all still had the nerve to ask for you to take care of them during your period weeks, none of them ever cared to return the favor, making it clear that they found something so natural so completely unappealing to them. Which is how you’d come to assume every man shared those sentiments.  

“Thought guys were grossed out by periods?” you asked quietly.

He huffed out a breath, the warmth of it once more passing over your skin and causing goosebumps to raise along your forearms. His hands pressed a little more firmly into your abdomen, pulling you tighter against him behind you as he continued grinding his stiff length along your ass.

“I haven’t had you in half a month,” he pointed out, mouth still beside your ear. “You think a little blood is gonna stop me?”

Before you could even reply, one of his hands began to trail lower, slipping downwards until he was cupping your heat in his palm. The moment the rough pads of his fingers brushed over your clit, you inhaled sharply. The little bundle of nerves was always extra sensitive during your period, causing his light touch to feel better than usual. But your body tensed in his arms for an entirely different reason as he continued his ministrations–which he clearly noticed. 

“Relax, darlin’,” he soothed. Shifting against you, his mouth lowered to your neck, placing a lingering kiss against the wet skin. “Your period doesn’t bother me,” he whispered in assurance against you. “Stop thinkin’ about it. Get outta your head.”

Trying to listen to him, you kept your eyes closed as you focused on the sensation of his fingers gently circling your clit, moving with just the right amount of pressure as he continued to press his length into your ass. Teeth sinking into your bottom lip, a soft noise of pleasure vibrated in your throat at how good just his fingers felt, your mind briefly drifting away from the pain of your cramps as it centered on the way he was so carefully touching you beneath the spray of water. 

“There you go,” he encouraged quietly. “That’s it, baby. Lemme help.”

While he continued working your clit with deliberate motions, his other hand slid upwards from your stomach, engulfing your left breast in his palm. Jax gave the soft flesh a firm squeeze before the pad of his thumb brushed over your nipple a few times. He caught the quiet gasp that left you, a smirk sliding onto his lips that you could feel against your skin from where he’d buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“These sore, too?” he asked, giving your breast another squeeze.

“Mhmm,” you hummed. 

Something like a grunt fell out of him at that, his damp facial hair tickling you where it brushed along your neck. You could feel the knot of desire tightening in your stomach instead, your cramps completely forgotten as the warm water continued to pour over the pair of you.

“Everything’s so sensitive right now, hmm?” he murmured.

You couldn’t help the way your back arched yourself further into him behind you, seeking more of his hot skin against yours as his left hand continued gently massaging your breast, his fingers carefully toying with your nipple. His other hand slipped lower until two of his fingers just dipped inside your aching, wet entrance. The motion of his hips hadn��t halted while he’d been touching you, his cock grinding a bit faster between the plushness of your ass with his own growing need. A quiet grunt came out muffled against your neck when he began to pump his two fingers in and out of you slowly, drawing a little moan out of you in return.

With a deep sigh at the sound, Jax finally raised his head from where it had been nuzzled against you. His lips once more brushed against your ear when he spoke. “You want me, baby?”

The answer to that was easy, your body already a mess of need from the little bit of stimulation he’d already given you. If he wasn’t going to be bothered by your period, you weren’t going to let it bother you right now, either. It’d been far too long since you’d both had each other like this and you missed him. So with a nod, you looked over your shoulder at him, your eyes meeting as the spray of the shower continued to pour over you both.

“Yes,” you answered.

Without wasting any more time, his fingers slipped out of you just as his other hand released your breast. Both of his hands came to land on your hips before he slowly turned you around to face him. Jax’s own need was written clear on his face, his eyes locked onto yours as he carefully walked you backwards in the small, steamy shower, moving you until your back hit the tiled wall. Almost instinctively, your hands were on his solid chest, feeling his steady pulse beneath your right palm. 

Jax stepped forward, his eyes still holding yours as his knee gently nudged your thighs open wider. One hand sliding past your hip and down to the back of your thigh, he gripped it firmly in his fingers before hoisting it up over his hip, his other hand keeping you steady against the shower wall as he did. Once you were positioned, your leg wrapping around his waist, his hand left your thigh to grab the base of his thick cock, running the tip of it through your slick folds and gathering the wetness along himself. You felt your pussy clench in anticipation as he groaned out, the sound low and filthy in the shower. 

He took a moment to line himself up with your entrance before he finally pressed his hips forward, sliding into you in a single, fluid stroke. Head dropping back against the wet tile behind you, you stared back at him through half-lidded eyes as a faint whine slipped out of your lips. Your pussy was just as sensitive as the rest of you, making the stretch of his cock inside of you somehow feel even better than all the other times you’d been together when you hadn’t been on your period. 

With him finally inside of you, his hand returned to your thigh, gripping it more firmly with his fingers before he tugged it up even higher over his hip. A sharp gasp abruptly fell out of you as the shift in position had him sinking even deeper into you.

“Feel good?” he asked, a teasing smirk on his lips.

“Yes,” you replied breathlessly.

Jax began to move, his strokes starting slow and shallow at first as your sensitive pussy adjusted to him, your walls stretching to fit every thick inch of him. Your hands shifted up his chest until one of them dug your nails into his broad shoulder while the other gripped the now short hair at the nape of his neck. Jax grunted in response, his hips gradually beginning to pick up their pace as he began to fuck you a little harder.

“Startin’ to feel any better?” he asked.

Head nodding against the tiled wall, your eyes remained focused on his face, watching the little twitches of pleasure play over his features as he fucked you. The panting gasps of your own shallow breaths began filling the shower along with the steam as each thrust of his cock tightened that knot deep in your stomach. 

“So much–better,” you panted out between his thrusts. “Missed you.”

His fingers tightened on your thigh as the corners of his lips curled even further into that familiar little cocky smirk he often had, the sight of it eliciting a soft moan from you. Beginning to increase his pace to something rougher and faster, you swore you could feel his cock making its way up to your damn stomach at this angle, your vision burning white each time he sharply snapped his hips into you.

“Missed you, too, darlin’,” he admitted, lowering his forehead to rest against yours. “Been too damn long. Can’t go that long again.”

Almost as if the confession had reminded him of just how long it had been, his strokes became even more forceful, his hips slamming you into the wall of the shower. A soft, wet thud punctuated each of his thrusts as your ass continued to smack into the wall behind you, that wave of pleasure only building faster inside of you as your nails bit harder into his shoulder. 

“Pussy’s so fuckin’ wet and warm,” he growled, his eyes snapping shut. “Shit, baby. Feels so good.”

A low moan snuck its way up out of your throat at his words, but Jax leaned forward and closed the remaining distance as he crashed his mouth down hard onto yours, swallowing down every single noise that had been about to spill right out of you. He pushed his tongue into your mouth as short, sharp exhales flew from his nose with each relentless roll of his hips that drove his cock deeper and deeper. Readjusting his hold on your thigh, Jax pressed you more fully into the shower wall, his body flush against yours as he continued burying his cock further inside of you. 

Both of your hands were in his hair, grabbing fistfuls of the short, damp strands now. At this point, you didn’t even care that everything was slick with a mixture of your blood, the water, and your own wetness as he continued to pump in and out of you with his relentless pace. You’d forgotten that you were even on your period, only focused on how good he was making you feel now as your slick bodies moved together, your own hips trying to match his pace. 

His mouth fell off of yours, his own breaths coming in shallow, panting gasps that fell hot over your damp skin. The sounds you were both making–moaning and grunting and gasping–blocked out the sound of the water. You could feel yourself getting closer to your release, your fingers tightening their hold on the short strands of his hair.

“Christ–thatta girl,” Jax grunted out. “There ya go.”

With skin sliding against skin, your breaths mingling in the small space between you two, you could feel your orgasm steadily approaching. Your walls clenched his cock, gripping it firmly as you neared that delicious peak. His forehead dropped back down to yours, the water falling off of his chin and dripping down your chest as he kept up his pace.

“Yeah, baby. C’mon,” he coaxed. “Let go.”

His fingers were making rough indents against the flesh of your upper thigh with how tightly he was gripping it, holding it high up over his hip so he could keep hitting you just right. And when he heard the high pitched whines beginning to fall from between your parted lips, he suddenly pulled himself almost entirely out before sharply ramming his hips into you and holding himself there, hitting that spot that made your brain turn to nothing. 

“Jax–Jax–Jax–”

You couldn’t do anything but stupidly babble his name at that point, especially when he pulled himself nearly out before abruptly snapping his hips back into you once more. A breathy, amused chuckle met your ears when the gesture broke off the repetition of his name, but you were far too gone at this point. All it took was another sharp slam of his hips again before you cried out, your pussy tightening around him as your forehead slipped away from his, your face burying against the side of his neck. You felt the resounding rumble of the pleased moan in his throat as he continued to ram into you a few more times, fucking you through your orgasm while your eyes nearly rolled back in ecstasy behind closed lids, finally coming on his cock.

“Fuck, there it is,” he groaned, his own voice strained. “Thatta girl.”

Keeping you pinned against the wall, his strokes grew sloppy as he continued fucking you, chasing after his own release. Still shaking with aftershocks of your own orgasm, your arms slipped down and wrapped around his shoulders as you clung to him, quiet moans still falling out of you as he kept going. 

“Shit, baby–”

With a few more rough thrusts, you felt Jax sink himself fully inside of you before he spilled into you, the heat of his release filling you with warmth. Your face was still pressed against the side of his neck as his movements gradually slowed to a stop, his own loud, ragged breaths filling the shower. 

Slowly, Jax lowered your leg from over his hip as both of his hands gripped your waist, keeping you steady so you didn't lose your balance and slip on the wet shower floor. Arms still wrapped around him, your eyes remained closed as you attempted to catch your breath while he carefully slid himself out of you. He turned and placed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand gently rubbing over the place on your thigh that he'd had a bruising grip on only moments ago. 

“Told you a bit of blood wasn't gonna stop me,” he said, sounding out of breath. “Aren't orgasms s'posed to help with cramps or some shit?”

Pulling your face away from his neck, you met his gaze with your own worn yet contented expression. At this rate, you didn't care if your blood was mixed in with the mess of sex on both of yourselves, you'd just wash it off in a minute.

“Yeah,” you answered. 

That damn smirk was back on his lips now, his head tilting to the side as the water continued to pour down over the both of you. “So?” he pressed, still out of breath. “You feelin’ better after that?”

Lips twisting into a little grin, you couldn't even deny that Jax fucking you had relieved the pain of your cramps far better than anything else you'd ever tried over the years. The smirk on his face only grew, as if he knew what you were thinking without you even giving voice to it.

“Much better,” you replied.

Looking quite pleased with himself, his hands wrapped around your waist as he gently tugged you away from the shower wall and against his warm, wet body. Relaxing into his embrace, you were glad you'd left work early and called him.

“Yeah,” he muttered smugly into your ear as he held you. “I fuckin’ thought so.”

[puffins-muffins]

Sanctified

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Word Count: 500 Summary: Jax never thought he could be whole again after Tara left, until you. Warnings: 18+ only please, hurt/comfort, emotional healing, Soft!Jax, slow burn vibes A/N: I'm just really deep in my Jax feels 🥺 tonight so here's this. ✨All feedback (reblogs, comments, likes) is much appreciated and encouraged!!✨ Enjoy babes! 🩷

Jax used to think that there were parts of him that would stay broken forever.

Some nights, he’d sit on the old rooftop outside the clubhouse, a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers, convinced there wasn’t enough left in him to give to anyone.

Not the good parts, at least - and certainly not the soft ones. Tara had taken those with her when she left him, walking away with all the pieces of the man he was trying to be. What she left behind was the outlaw, the fury, and all the wreckage that came with him.

But then you happened. And somehow, without even trying, you began to gather all those broken edges he thought no one would ever want to touch - all the parts he thought were too sharp to hold.

You didn’t come into his life loudly. You didn’t demand his attention or try to fix him with some kind of silly optimism. You just… existed. Showing up on his worst days without asking for more than what he could give - steady, stubborn, forgiving.  

And even when, especially when, he gave you nothing - you stayed anyway.

Jax didn’t know what to do with that at first. Didn’t know what to do with the way your laughter threaded through the cracks in him, or how the soft graze of your fingers across his skin made him feel like flesh and blood again, instead of something hollow and irreparable - stitched together by guilt and regret. You only looked at him like maybe it didn’t scare you.

You brought color into a world he’d resigned to being nothing but grey and desolate.

Now he watches you sometimes when you don’t know he’s looking. Watches the way you move through a room, the way you talk with your hands - animated and unapologetic, the way your eyes shine when you’re passionate about something. You’ve got this calm inside you, but it’s not soft, it’s wild in its own right.

And fuck if that didn’t break him wide open.

He swore he’d never fall again, swore the club was the only thing left in his life worth bleeding for.

But then you curled into his bed one night, wrapped in one of his favorite flannels - your cheeks tinted pink and warm to the touch from the whiskey you’d both been sipping. You looked at him like he wasn’t something broken, like he was a man who could be loved, still. And for the first time in years, he believed it.

So yeah. Loving you isn’t something Jax chose, it’s just something he does.

And he’ll never say it out loud, not the full weight of it, not yet, but he thinks that maybe you already know. Because when you reach for him - when you brush over old wounds like they’re nothing to be ashamed of, like he’s still something whole despite it all, he swears it feels like maybe there’s still something in him worth saving.

[wetpussyju1ce]

the jax teller head tilt gets me going!! it's so stupid hot and I don't understand why it's so sexy!!

[laurfilijames]

He's a total creep and she definitely isn't in a good situation! Thank god for Waldo!!

Do you think it was a good thing that he didn't tell her about the note that was left? I had chills when I wrote that scene!

Eyes On You

Part 3

Pairing: Detective Charlie Waldo x female reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Sexual tension. Stalker. Mention of an attack.

Summary: A heated moment is shared between you and Waldo, and your stalker causes another stir that forces him to take action to keep you safe.

A/N: Happy Waldo Wednesday! Thank you for everyone who is showing interest in this series 💗💗

*Please note you do not have to have watched Last Looks in order to enjoy this fic and that the reader is not given any physical descriptions aside from having hair despite photo used in moodboard.

Part 2

---

The way his eyes burned was something he was used to by now, but still the effects of another sleepless night fueled by stress and fatigue had Charlie rubbing his eyes furiously before blinking quickly, refocusing his tired stare on the coffee that slowly percolated into the pot.

It was Saturday, and he was thankful to not have to worry about you going off to work or having any reason to leave your house today, and hoped you were able to sleep for as long as you needed to.

That hopeful thought was cut short when he heard your soft footsteps enter the kitchen, and he glanced over his shoulder with an almost disappointed expression on his face.

“You're up already? It's not even six,” he greeted, turning his body to lean against the counter where he watched you shrug in response.

“Like I can sleep when all of this is going on,” you muttered, the exasperation clear in your voice.

“We’ll catch the guy, don't worry.”

“I know you will,” you sighed, actually believing that he would.

You opened the cupboard beside where Waldo stood, pulling two mugs down to sit in front of the coffee maker.

“Thank you for being here. Even if I didn't sleep, it was a relief knowing I wasn't alone.”

He breathed out, a faint smile tugging on his lips. “I’m just doing my job.”

You laughed, “Yeah? Is this what other cops do?”

He watched you gesture vaguely between you, and realizing you were fully aware that this was not considered standard practice, scratched his head awkwardly.

“I guess just the good ones…”

You lifted your eyebrows, smirking as you took the coffee pot and filled both mugs, your proximity to each other electric, and neither of you made any attempt to free up what little space remained between you.

“I’ll consider myself very lucky then.”

“Is it lucky to have a stalker tormenting you?”

You sighed and turned to look at him, clasping your mug in both hands.

“No, but given the circumstances, I’m lucky to have the hot guy I kept running into be the detective who was generous enough to protect me.”

You walked over to the table, looking over your shoulder at him with a smile as you sat, watching as he grabbed the mug left for him and sauntered over to join you.

“Even if it’s outside your job description,” you added, holding his gaze over the rim of your mug as you took a sip.

Most of the day had been the same; lounging around and passing time with long conversations together between the frequent surveillance checks Waldo would execute around your entire property, and if it wasn't for his constant attention to everything happening outside, you almost would’ve forgotten any of this was a reality.

You enjoyed his company more than you thought you would, and had a feeling he felt the same, the effortless chats and sense of ease and comfort you seemed to bring each other growing more evident as your time spent together increased.

Waldo came back inside through the front door, and you watched from the armchair in the living room as he locked it, and checked it again, before moving to the large window where he drew the curtains closed, encasing the room in darkness.

His silhouette was equally as appealing as seeing all of him was, and you smiled to yourself as you imagined him closing the world away for different reasons, shutting your eyes to indulge in the thought of him exploring your body with the absence of sight.

The lamp flicked on and you reopened them, meeting his blue ones that you knew you would remember forever.

“All clear,” he advised, reaching for his bag that sat on the sofa, having had one of his officers go to his apartment to collect some fresh clothes and things for him that they dropped off earlier.

“Is it okay if I take a shower?” he asked, pointing his thumb in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll be quick, and if you need anything, just yell.”

You laughed and shook your head. “Of course. I don’t think–well I hope nothing will happen in the five minutes you’re not ‘on duty’.”

“It won’t,” he assured, taking his fresh clothes and making his way down the hallway.

Sitting for another minute, you stood and walked toward the kitchen, pausing when Waldo met you in the hallway.

“I, uh, forgot something,” he muttered, turning his body to let you pass.

You did the same, both of you facing each other, lingering in your attempt to continue on to your destinations.

Licking your lips as your eyes danced over his exposed chest, the buttons on his shirt already undone, you took a deep breath and then a small step away, only to be stopped by his hand on your wrist.

His hold was gentle, but purposeful, pulling you back toward him where you easily let yourself follow his silent command.

Your other hand landed on his bare stomach, using him to steady yourself even though that contact made your knees feel even more weak, and when he put his face to the side of your head, carefully nuzzling your hair as he took a long inhale in, you swore you might pass out.

You tilted your head to allow him more access, moaning when he brushed his nose against the sensitive skin on your neck before testing the press of his lips with a kiss.

Once, and then again, the simple act creating an addict out of you.

Your lips envied your neck, jealous of not yet knowing what his felt like on them, and angling your head to meet his gaze, your nose nudged his scruffy cheek, a small tease until he brought his thumb up to press on your lower lip.

There was hunger in his eyes as he gave one final glance before he dove in, capturing your lips like he was stealing your breath, his hands moving to hold either side of your face where he guided your head back in order to delve even deeper.

Just as the feel of his mouth pressed on yours started to become something so natural, he peeled away, his forehead resting on yours while his hands gripped your hair as if trying to steady himself.

“I shouldn’t be doing this…” he uttered, his tone hinting like he didn’t believe what he said.

You huffed out a small giggle, “Yeah, but you’re a cop, don’t you do whatever you want anyway?”

“I’m a detective,” he replied, the emphasis on his rank almost poignant.

“Even more reason to take what you want,” you countered, each word dripping with lust.

He breathed out through a knowing grin, his air ghosting on your flushed skin as you waited for him to either continue or break this off completely.

“Do you want me?” you asked, cutting through the heavy silence that stood between you.

Charlie nodded, his lips brushing yours again as he did, pressing his body closer where you were able to feel just how much that was true.

He crashed into you again, kissing you harder and deeper than before, staking his claim like you were hoping he would all along.

You moaned into his mouth, grinding your hips on him when he forced his leg between your thighs and pushed you against the wall, hands roaming and breath quickening as you both gave into everything you wanted.

The sound of his belt buckle clanking open mixed in with your wet kisses and desperate breaths, your fingers working to quickly free his large erection from the restraints of his jeans, only to be stopped when his phone rang loudly, making you jolt and part before you were ready to.

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling it from his pocket to answer it, his free hand running through his short hair with aggravation.

“Waldo. Yeah, no, it’s fine, I’m not busy,” he lied, glaring at you disappointedly before staring up at the ceiling as he listened to the call. “Are you serious? Fuck…Okay, yeah, thanks. Yeah, let me know if there’s anything else.”

He puffed out his cheeks as he pressed the button to hang up, already answering the question he knew you were going to ask before you even had the chance to.

“That was evidence. There were no prints on the tracker that was on your car, or any other ones other than yours on your door handles that I sent in. This guy knows what he’s doing.”

“Fuck,” you whispered, sinking back against the wall defeatedly, feeling like your world was coming crashing down around you all over again and like each day was bringing you further and further from peace and safety.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, stepping toward you and putting his hand on your shoulder. “I’m gonna get this guy, I swear.”

You nodded, fighting off tears as you met him in the hug he offered, taking a deep, calming breath as you rested your head on his bare chest, the soothing sound of his heartbeat drowning out some of your panic and worry.

Night slowly turned into morning, and not having seen or heard any signs of your stalker, you were feeling almost hopeful that maybe he had moved on, having a detective staying with you not worth his risk. You almost dared to relax despite being disappointed that none of the evidence turned up any leads, but you weren’t going to let that sense of ease settle in too comfortably, knowing that as much as you hoped the creep had abandoned his obsession with you, it likely wasn’t the case.

You yawned, picking up your mug of coffee to down the rest of it, having not slept hardly at all for yet another night, but other things were keeping you awake, too.

The memory of Charlie’s hands and lips on you was persistent, and you swore each time you thought about your interrupted makeout session in the hallway that you could feel your skin spark in all the places he’d touched. You thought all night about how he might be feeling about it, if he shrugged it off as something that happened and wouldn’t again, surrendering to the heat of the moment, or if he had laid awake aching over it just as much as you had.

“Morning.”

His voice startled you, jumping slightly before turning your head to give him a weak smile, peeling your stare away from the window that had become the view you obsessed over since this all started.

“Hey.”

“Did you sleep?” he asked, his voice groggy.

You shook your head and hummed, “Hmm, no. Did you?”

He scoffed through a smile, “No.”

“I’m sorry,” you offered, feeling guilty. “Let me get you a coffee.”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t sleep much anyway. And thanks,” he said genuinely, following as you led the way to the kitchen.

“How’s your knee?” he inquired, and it was like the question immediately signalled pain receptors from the small wound to your brain.

“Oh, right,” you giggled softly. “I almost forgot about that. Umm, it's fine.”

You looked down at it, assessing, ashamed to admit that your mind had solely been focused on all the other places on your body he had made contact with.

“You sure?” he pressed, reaching to skim the tips of his fingers over the bandage.

Your breath hitched and you stiffened slightly, nodding in confirmation as he looked up at you through his long, sandy-coloured lashes.

“Okay, good.”

You licked your lips and moved to the cupboard that kept your cups and glasses, hearing him clear his throat quietly behind you.

“So, I don’t want to alarm you,” he started, his tone hesitant, making you turn to face him as you poured coffee into a mug for him. “But I got a call earlier this morning and there was another attack on a woman a few blocks away…”

His heart sank as he watched your expression morph into fear, and he reached out to take the cup out of your hands and placed it on the counter, holding your hands in his as he continued.

“I want to move you somewhere else today so I can go out and try to pin this fucker down. I was thinking of taking you to your friend Stacy’s? Would she be okay with that?”

You nodded quickly, blinking as you were trying to find words to properly respond, only to have him squeeze your hands in reassurance that you didn’t need to.

“I want you to call her now and tell her we’ll be there in an hour.”

Waldo released your hands so he could get his phone out of his pocket, handing it to you.

“Call from my phone, you’re going to leave yours here in case he’s hacked it and can track you from it, okay?”

“Okay, yeah,” you agreed, taking his phone where you typed in Stacy’s number.

“I’ll come get you later and bring you back here as long as everything is clear, but I want you to pack a bag with enough stuff to get you through a couple days.”

He leaned against the counter as he watched you arrange plans with Stacy, and seeing and hearing the worry and dread you were experiencing made him more determined than ever to do his job and lock this criminal away.

You hung up, not meeting his eyes as you handed him his phone back.

“She’s home and fine with me staying as long as I need to,” you explained. “I guess I’ll go pack?”

Charlie nodded, feeling empathetic as the severity of the situation really settled in on you.

“Hey,” he called, softly, making you turn to look at him before you got too far. “I meant it when I said I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. And I’m sorry I haven’t got him yet.”

You managed a half-smile, knowing this was likely eating him up and maybe even making him feel like a failure, and you hoped for his sake as much as yours that this would all be over soon.

The drive back to your house was fairly quiet, Waldo’s frustrations at not coming up with any leads evident in his silence and the way his jaw flexed as he clenched his teeth together, taking out his irritation on other drivers by shouting the occasional curse.

He had other detectives assigned to the case with him, allowing him the time to ensure your safety while they continued to search, and with no new sightings or evidence, he decided there was nothing else to do for the time being than to get you back home.

“So everything was okay while you were there?” he asked again, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently as you waited at a red light.

“Yeah, nothing out of the ordinary happened,” you assured him for the second time. “But, I definitely didn’t feel as safe.”

He hooked his eyebrow as he glanced over, prompting you to explain further.

“I didn’t feel as safe there as I do with you…”

Your admission seemed to ease his tension a bit, letting out a long sigh as the light turned green and he drove on again.

A couple of minutes later and he was pulling into your driveway, his eyes already scanning the area for any signs of disruption since you had left this morning, nothing obvious stopping him from letting you get out and head inside.

“Woah, woah, hang on,” he warned, already having made his way up to the porch while you were grabbing your bag out of the back seat.

About to ask what his pause was for, you saw a manilla envelope leaned up against the door, and your stomach sank.

Waldo jogged back to the car and leaned over to the passenger side, opening the glove box where he grabbed out some medical gloves.

“Stay here,” he ordered, his blue eyes serious as he looked at you before going back to the door.

Your fingers gripped the frame of the car door as you stood behind it and watched, standing on your tip-toes as if that would allow you to see better as he carefully inspected the envelope before opening the flap.

“What is it?” you asked, seeing his expression change to something like disgust.

“Is this yours?” he inquired, holding up a black, lacy thong.

Bile rose in your throat as you recognized the panties as being the very ones you had worn the day before, the ones made wet from arousal when Waldo was pressing you against the wall and you were grinding on his leg.

You nodded, covering your mouth to muffle the sob that escaped it, feeling like you were just punched in the gut as you doubled over, trying to catch your breath as you wheezed for air.

Waldo was beside you before you realized, his gloved hand smoothing over your back as he helped to guide you back into the car.

“Come on, we can’t stay here,” he advised, grabbing a clear, plastic evidence bag from the glove box in front of you, carefully placing the envelope inside.

“I’m gonna drop this off at the station and then we’re going to a hotel, okay?”

“Okay,” you croaked, fastening your seatbelt with a shaky hand as Charlie closed the door gently for you and walked to the driver’s side, removing his gloves as he did.

“Was there anything else in there?” you asked, and the terrified look in your eyes let him know that he couldn’t tell you the truth.

“No, just the underwear.”

When you breathed a some-what relieved sigh, he put his own seatbelt on and placed his hand on the back of your seat, twisting his body as he reversed out of the driveway, feeling a terrible sense of guilt in his stomach but knowing that sharing what else was in that envelope would only hurt you more.

You taste just as good as you look and I can’t wait to get my hands on you.

The words replayed in his head over and over as he drove, and as many vile things as he’d seen and dealt with in his career, a nauseous feeling settled in his stomach along with a fierceness to protect you more than ever.

---

Taglist:

@dailydragon08 @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @maggotzombie

@rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @justreblogginfics

@spaghettificationandpretzels @whatever-lmaoo @steviebbboi @charethcutestory02

@daryldixonpls @puffins-muffins

[navybrat817]

Puppy Dog Eyes

Pairing: William Miller x Female Reader

Summary: Will feels betrayed by someone he thought was his ally.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Fluff, humor, established relationship, talk of threats and interrogation, slight feels (it's me, okay?), William Miller (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Inspired by this post @ghotifishreads tagged me in. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Will counted the seconds in his mind as he stared his adversary down. Someone he should've considered an ally. Maybe even a friend. But now? He didn't recognize the beast in front of him.

He was used to people playing dirty behind enemy lines, but this? Betrayal in familiar territory? The sting was like a bullet to the gut.

“Before you test my resolve, I want you to know that I have forty three confirmed kills.”

A huff was the only reply he got.

Crouching down so he was at eye level, he huffed, too. His enemy was much smaller in size, but looks could be deceiving. “Now, I’m not going to hurt you. It wouldn't do either of us any good,” he said, tapping a finger against his thigh. “I just want to know why.”

He didn't get an answer. Only a defiant stare. The silent treatment. That was fine. Nothing he hadn't faced before. He had ways to make enemies talk if it came to that. And the puppy dog eyes wouldn't garner sympathy from him.

Battle had hardened him too much for that.

Shut down. Control. Manipulate. That’s what he did with his human instincts until he completed his mission.

Will continued the staring contest until the smaller one whined. It wasn't an answer, but it was a start. “You made this personal, you know. And I’ll throw you out in the rain if you push your luck,” he threatened, tilting his head to maintain eye contact. “No. You don't get to look away. Not after what you did. After I took you into my home.”

And how did he repay him?

“Honey?”

Your voice pulled Will’s attention away from the task at hand. “Yeah, baby?”

You leaned against the doorway, a smile tugging at your kissable lips. “Are you interrogating Bandit?”

Bandit, the puppy Benny got weeks ago. The puppy you offered to watch since his brother was going out of town for a few days and he didn't want to board him. The same little rascal who chewed up a pair of tennis shoes. New tennis shoes.

And hadn't touched a single one of his chew toys.

Will nodded to his ruined shoes. “You saw what he did.”

“I did and I'm sorry,” you said, though you had no reason to apologize. It wasn't like you chewed them up. “He’s a puppy and they’re going to do those kinds of things from time to time. Is it really worthy of an interrogation?”

“Yes, it is.” Bandit swung his head toward you and whimpered. “No, don’t you-”

“Aww. Is the former Captain bothering you?” You walked over and scooped him into your arms. The light golden puppy snuggled close, but looked at Will like he was taunting him. You had a soft spot for dogs and Bandit sensed that. Used it to his advantage.

“Taking his side?”

“I’m always on your side, Will,” you said, softening his resolve. “Now, Bandit, you know you aren't supposed to do that. Play with your toys, not shoes. Okay?”

Bandit barked. He actually barked for you. How did you do that?

“And apologize to Will,” you urged.

He barked again.

“Good boy,” you smiled as Will stood up and crossed his arms. “And don't worry, we won't throw you out in the rain.”

“I still might just to teach him a lesson,” Will half teased. “Or I can just put him in his cage.”

Bandit whined and hid his face. “Don’t you dare. He’s a puppy, not a soldier. And you were happy with watching him until now. Besides, he said he was sorry,” you said, giving Will your own set of puppy dog eyes.

You had a point. Bandit was a pretty well-behaved puppy, all things considered. He didn't bite. Didn't make a mess when he ate. Went to the door when he had to go outside. And he seemed content to sleep in his dog bed and didn't demand to sleep with the two of you.

“Fine. No cage,” he relented.

“Thank you. And I’m sure Benny will buy you a new pair of shoes once he gets back,” you added.

“Maybe,” he said. He wouldn't hold his breath to get new shoes or money for the damage done. He may be Benny’s big brother, but Benny adored his puppy and would likely blame him for leaving them out in the first place. He had a routine though. He put his shoes in the same spot after he exercised.

To be fair, he should've been more careful. He would be in the future. If anything, he could try to see the positive side of things and use this as a learning experience. That's what you tried to do when you ran into unfortunate situations.

“Is it a bad time to suggest we get our own puppy?” You asked, smiling as you lifted Bandit up higher and put his cheek against yours. “Chewed up shoes and a scratched up couch aside, it might be nice.”

Dogs did make for great companions. He’d be lying if he said he hadn't pictured the two of you having a kid and a dog for them to grow up with. Someone who would be a friend to and watch over his child.

“What do you think?” You smiled when he stayed quiet for too long.

He softly smiled. Most people couldn't sway him to do anything, but you had a way about you. Maybe it was because he loved you. “I’ll think about it.”

You put Bandit down before you leaned in and brushed your lips against Will’s. “Thank you.”

He went in for another kiss, but stopped when the words fully registered. “Wait.” He narrowed his eyes. “Did you say scratched up couch?”

“...Did I say that? I don't recall.”

“I remember everything you’ve ever said to me,” he told you.

You put a hand over your heart. “That is so romantic.”

“And you said ‘chewed up shoes and a scratched up couch aside, it might be nice’, so what exactly did he do to our couch?”

Your eyes widened as you took a step back. “Run, Bandit!”

And he did.

I couldn't help myself. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

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