#jax jackson teller
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for @theeternaloptimistt
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Jax Teller x Pregnant!fem reader
suggestive content. +18 mdni
the moment jax finds out reader is pregnant, he'll get his shit together for her n the baby, quickly books doctor appointments, gets her vitamins and anything pregnant women need to stay healthy during the pregnancy. he also gets extra protective and some chemicals in his brain shifts where his sense of danger and threat is heightened, or maybe he's just paranoid, but whatever it is, it makes him lowkey dangerous to be around when it has to do anything with his pregnant wife.
he doesn't tolerate mistakes or slip ups when it comes to her, if she's served a beer or something with raw fish in it. and he made sure everyone in the club knew she was pregnant and to be extra careful around her, is that so hard to understand?
His behaviour gets worse the more she starts to show, he won't even let her walk in the bar anymore because he doesn't want her to inhale the tobacco in the air, or be around stinky sailor-cursing bikers, no offense or anything. But also he really doesn't like how some men look at his wife while she's round and carrying his baby, he knows she's beautiful, a ray of sunshine, and worst of all, even in pregnancy she glows and looks so adorable, and he's a selfish bastard, so he doesn't want to share her with others.
The only person who can really pry his pretty wife off his hands is his mum, Gemma, and she's so excited to be a grandma. The moment they broke the news to her, she was over the moon, so excited and happy for her son to become a dad. So, at the earliest convenience, she kidnaps Jax’s wife literally out of their bed, while Jax is all groggy and pissed off, hair sticking in all directions, shirtless and georgous. Gemma is literally dancing in their bedroom, with a glass or orange juice in her hand, “Come on, rise and shine, I'm taking you shopping today!”
Jax’s prettiest girl is confused as she sits up in the bed, “How did you get in?”
“Mum, get out,” Jax is not happy at all, glaring at his mum while sitting up in the bed, making sure the sheets stay above his belly button while his wife accepts the glass of orange juice and drinks the whole thing, “Thanks, Gemma, I was thirsty,”
“You were?” Jax rasps, voice deep from sleep, holding his wife's hand in his, trying to blink the sleep away from his eyes.
“Hm, I was,” His wife nods and he hums, “I'll get you water bottles to keep in the bedroom at night,”
“Thank you,” She smiles and stretches, he watches her stretch her arms above her bed, arching her back and rolling her neck, he suddenly gets the urge to kiss her silly but remembers his mother was still in their bedroom, “Get out!”
“I will! I'll make breakfast, your favourite, so don't go back to sleep,” Gemma says, holding her hands in the air in surrender and slowly backs out of the room, closing the door behind her.
“How did she even get in? I locked the door yesterday,” Jax asked, running his hands through his hair.
“You gave her a spare key in case of emergencies, remember?” She says, getting out of the bed and going over to the windows, cracking one of them open to let in fresh air.
“Does it look like we're having an emergency?” Jax grumbles, annoyed at being woken up before he wakes up on his own, he was planning to sleep in, spend time with his wife and do some planning for the next months but that's all thrown out of the window now because his mum was too excited to call.
Jax sighs, his shoulders slumping, then he looks up at his pretty wife, wearing one of his old ratty t-shirts and underwear, the fabric hiding the small bump he knew was there. She stood barefoot on the carpet, the sun shining behind her, looking so soft and cute he wanted nothing more than to drag her back in bed and bury himself inside her until they're satisfied. And with that, he feels tingling in his groin and he's reminded of his morning wood, great.
“Do you want to shower together? I'll take care of you,” She smiles and he wants to scream out of the window about how he's the luckiest bastard in the world. So he quickly gets out of the bed, almost tripping on the sheets making his wife giggle. Then he grabs her by the waist and pinches at her sides, making her squeal and laugh, “Stop! Your mum will hear!”
Jax sighs, right, they had a guest.
She immediately notices the change of his demeanour and cups his face, “I know you'll talk to her, set boundaries, she knows better than to do that again.”
Jax covers her hands in his, then turns his head, kissing her palm, “Okay, darling,”
“Okay,” She says and he grabs her hands, takes them down from his face and pulls her in the bathroom.
.
.
.
Jax gets cute aggression the bigger his wife gets, and he's shameless with it too, squeezes her tight in his arms, keeps kissing and squishing her cheeks in his hands, bites her thighs when they're at home and coos at her, talks to her like a baby when they're alone, because he enjoys her annoyed reaction to them, but also because he can't help it! When he especially annoys her, she tells him that she's a grown woman who's pregnant because his dick was inside her, and all he does is laugh loudly.
He's also sweet and patient when she starts to get quickly tired, when her muscles ache and when her feet get sore, also when she's constantly hot and sweating, and all Jax does is buy her more and more of her favourite soaps, shower gels, lotions and shampoos in her favourite scents to make her feel better about the changes in her body. He still loves her either way, and his dick always gets hard when he looks at her, even if she's sweaty and smelly as she claims, but something primal in his brain only understands that she's pregnant, healthy, and his, and that, he really likes.
As much as her mood swings give her a hard time, with the changes in her hormones and all, Jax finds himself secretly enjoying them, not in a twisted sick way, but in a “my wife cries and I'm the only one who can comfort her” way.
This happens a few times, where he's busy with club activities while she's hanging out with his mum and the other old ladies, then he gets a call from his mum, saying that his wife is crying, sobbing and is on her way to the club, that they tried to stop her but she left anyways. And the first things Jax asks is; is she alone? how is she coming to the club? is she driving???
Before any of his questions are answered, he hears her ask for him and he but leaps out of his chair, leaving the meeting they were having and she's right there, dressed like the prettiest thing in the world, her cheeks tender, her nose runny and her eyes glassy and a bit red from crying. As soon as her eyes land on him, she sobs and he quickly goes to her, gathers her in his arms, making sure not to squeeze her bump between them and shushes her, stroking her back, kissing her wet cheeks and letting her burrow in the crook of his neck.
He ends up sitting somewhere private with her in his lap, sniffling and hiccuping, and Jax doesn't like to see his baby cry, but then he's not too bothered because she's pregnant and if anything bad happened, Gemma would have told him at least.
So he finally asks when she's less frantic, “Why are you crying, babe?”
She freezes and he frowns, squeezing her thigh once, “Are you alright? You can tell me,”
“You'll think it's stupid,” She whispered and he immediately hugged her to his chest, “I'll never, baby, I promise.”
“It's– I read in a magazine about these orphan baby monkeys-” Her voice catches in her throat and she starts crying again, Jax coos, patting her back through her devastated sobs, “There's so much pollution– The poor babies, they're– They're so tiny-”
“Here, here, I'm sure they'll get rescued and put in a zoo or something,” He says, a small smile on his lips.
#fanfiction#fanfic#18+ mdni#jackson jax teller#jackson teller#jax teller#sons of anarchy#jax teller x reader#jax teller x y/n#jax teller x you#sons of anarchy jax#jax Jackson teller#soa#soa x reader#soa jax#Gemma teller#sons of anarchy fic#sons of anarchy fanfiction#sons of anarchy gemma#sons of anarchy smut#jax teller x female reader#charlie hunnam characters#gemma teller#soa gemma#sons of anarchy Gemma teller
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I'm just a girl. I watch some movies and series w my pussy and not my brain so now I can't participate in productive discussions abt them because all I can think about is THE CHARACTER 😔😩
#sons of anarchy#soa#jax teller#Jackson jax teller#jax Jackson Teller#sons of anarchy jax#my husband basically#the gentlemen#the gentlemen raymond#king arthur legend of the sword#pacific rim#are we noticing a pattern yet?#charlie hunnam#I'm so embarrassed 😞#movies#series#films#girlblogging#gaslight gatekeep girlblog#this is a girlblog#girlblog#girlblog aesthetic#girlblogger#tumblr girls#im just a girl#girlhood#old man fucker#well yeahh#teehee#🤭
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As this is the incest blog; I'm watching sons of Anarchy tv series. And why in the fuck is jax and his mums relationship weird?
I'm on ep3 rn and so far they've kissed on the mouth, his mum tried to kill his ex wife behind his back, who he still cared abt like a decent human being. AND he agreed w his mum, calling her 'smoking hot' when she showed him an old picture of her before he was born.
WHO IS WRITING THE SCRIPT.
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SONS OF ANARCHY 7.07 | Greensleeves
#hahahahahaha#also his smile pls#jax teller#jackson teller#happy lowman#ratboy#sons of anarchy#soa#soaedit
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Charlie Hunnam as Jackson ’Jax’ Teller Sons of Anarchy (2008–2014) S01E01 “Pilot”
#sons of anarchy#soa#soaedit#jackson 'jax' teller#jax teller#jaxtelleredit#charlie hunnam#charliehunnamedit#chunnamedit#gifs#tv#tvedit#am I on my way to make one Jax Teller gifset per episode?#yeah#probably
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warning(s): SMUT. jax in a fractured emotional state, parental death mention. 18+ readers ONLY. words: 2.3k a/n: set smack dab in the middle of season two, so spoilers are within. truthfully, this is my first x reader fic, so go easy on me with the reviews. 🥺✨
The clubhouse still smelled like stale beer when Jax stormed out, jaw tight, rings and fingers stained with blood, knuckles raw. The fight with Clay wasn’t just another blow up over miscommunication. It’d been building for months now, ever since Donna. Jax had been extra volatile lately, more so since Tara left Charming again. He saw that coming, as much as it rested bitterly on his tongue and ached in his chest. It was almost worse the second time around.
“You wanna lead, son? Start actin’ like it. Stop hiding behind your dead daddy’s words.”
That was the last thing Clay said before Jax swung. Now, those words echoed at the forefront of his mind, incapacitating any other possible thought to come to the forefront.
By the time he showed up at your place, it was well past midnight. You recognized the distant growl of his bike pulling into the parking space outside your apartment's patio–surely Patty next door would complain to the landlord about that. Not that you gave a damn.
“Can I come in?” Jax asked, his voice low and hoarse.
You stepped aside to let him inside, the porch light highlighting the raw knuckles and split lip, but you didn’t ask. Not yet. And just like that, you became the one person he could run to when shit got too damn chaotic.
The door clicked softly behind him. He was quiet for the first thirty seconds, removing his kutte and putting it on the back of your dining chair. You watched him cross the room again, taking in the blood dotted along the front of his white shirt. He plopped down on the couch and leaned back, closing his eyes as his head was facing upward.
Silence stretched between you two again as you walked into the kitchen, clicked on the dim light above the stove, and grabbed the ice pack you kept in the freezer. Part of you hated how automatic it had become, tending to Jax’s wounds like this. But tonight felt different. The fight had dug deeper.
You returned into the living room, crouching in front of him as he leaned forward now with his forearms resting on his knees, pressing the ice pack against his jaw and giving him a soft smile of reassurance. He flinched slightly, not from the cold but from the touch, like he wasn’t used to something so domestic such as this.
“You gonna tell me what happened?” You finally asked, holding the ice pack firmly against his jaw.
He didn’t look at you. Just past your shoulder, like if he’d meet your eyes, the dam would break.
“Clay.” One word. Heavy and unmistaken.
You nodded. “That bad?”
“Worse,” he muttered, finally sparing you a glance with that signature smirk for just a second.
You moved the ice pack a little, brushing his blond hair back with your free hand to get a better look at the cut on his brow. It had stopped bleeding, but it’d bruise considerably by morning. You could already see the purple blooming beneath his skin.
“Did he say something, or did you finally throw the first punch?”
A dry, humorless laugh escaped him. “Both.”
He went quiet after that. You knew better than to push. You just stayed close and allowed the silence to seep in between the two of you again. Your hand brushed against his knee as you adjusted your knelt position a fraction, your head cocking to the side ever so slightly.
He leaned back against the couch now, taking control of the ice pack with his own hand and holding it there. He looked at you–really looked. “He said I was weak. That if I wanted the goddamn gavel, I needed to grow some balls first.”
You could see his jaw tick, like he was holding something back on purpose. “Well… did you?”
Jax’s tongue darted over his split lip. “Yeah. I swung. First time in front of the table. I knocked him on his ass.”
You let out a slow breath. “Jesus…”
He shook his head, tossing the ice pack on the side table. “He deserved it. He’s been throwing his weight around, becoming so goddamn full of himself and his vision–” His jaw ticked once again, like he wanted to elaborate but knew he couldn’t, nor would he. “Greed. Power. Lies. Everything that SAMCRO is supposed to be against, he’s gunning for everything that’s in the wrong direction on purpose.” You took his hand and held it, noticing the smear of Clay’s blood under his fingernails. “I’m scared I’m gonna become him. Or worse. I feel like everything is falling apart and I can’t get a fuckin’ grip on any of it.”
You felt your chest tighten. “You won’t.” He looked at you like he wanted to believe you if just for a second. “Every time you’ve come here, Jax, bleeding or not, you’re still fighting to be something better.”
He let out a shaky breath and leaned forward, the hand that you were holding coming up to cup your face as he spoke, “This is the only place I can breathe.” Jax’s thumb grazed against your cheek a few times as he held it while your hand came up to gently brush his hair back.
“I don’t know who the hell I am anymore,” he admitted, and it came out like a confession. “I thought I did. I thought the manuscript, my dad’s vision, all that… thought it would show me the way, but every time I try to steer this thing differently, I end up right back where he was. Drowning in the same fuckin’ shit.”
You reached up, fingers brushing against the bruise above his eye, “He didn’t drown, Jax. He was pulled under. There’s a difference.”
One hand rested on your wrist now while the other cupped the back of your neck. His touch wasn’t rough, but it held a considerable amount of weight. The pad of his thumb traced your skin, like he was trying to ground himself and like your heartbeat was the only constant left. The only thing that grounded him, tethering him to reality.
“I didn’t come here for this.” Jax admitted, his forehead resting against yours now. “I just–I couldn’t go home, you know? Not right now.”
“I know.” You reassured him in a whisper. “You don’t have to elaborate if you don’t want to.”
“But I want to.” His voice cracked on the edge of it. “You’re the only person who doesn’t look at me like I’m supposed to have all the answers. Like I’m not already burning at both ends.”
You forced down the knot rising in your throat, your gaze undeniably locking with Jax’s, quietly pleading, quietly saying all the things you couldn’t put into words. He looked back, his eyes never moving from your face; they never did, even if he’d deny it.
He moved first, deliberate and slow as he leaned in, like he was expecting you to back out but you didn’t. His lips captured yours as your breath was caught, but not out of surprise but rather relief. The kiss started carefully, loaded with a question he wasn’t sure neither of you wanted answered.
Still, you answered without hesitation, returning the same urgency.
Jax kissed you like a man starved, like he was desperate to feel something that didn’t rip him apart. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. Your mouth opened for him, lips parting, and he groaned low and guttural, like the sound had been stuck under lock and key for days.
You climbed into his lap without asking, straddling him where he sat on the couch. Your knees bracketed his hips as your fingers traced up under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his chest, tracing warm skin and hard muscle. Jax’s breath hitched when your hands rested against the top of his chest, fingers curling into soft fists.
“Jesus.” He murmured against your mouth, his forehead resting against yours, “You sure about this?”
“Yes.” You whispered faintly, “I want this.” A beat of silence filled the void and then, “I want you, Jax.”
That did it, snapping the lingering tension like a bowstring.
He surged up, wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying you toward the bedroom like he couldn’t bear to waste another second. Your fingers fumbled with his shirt the second the door shut, but he beat you to it. He set you down right in front of the side of your bed, removing his own shirt as you undid his belt and zipper, letting each item fall to his ankles. He stepped out of them as he kissed you and helped you out of your sleepwear, conveniently a pair of shorts and a threadbare t-shirt far too baggy.
He gently held you in his arms and guided you onto the bed, gently laying your back against the mattress like you were something sacred; like this wasn’t just about fucking anymore, no, this was about remember what it felt like to just be human.
When Jax’s body lowered onto yours, his left hand trailed against your sides while his right held your face. His lips found yours again, his teeth gently nipping at your bottom lip. Then he pulled away just enough to study you despite the darkness in the room, as the only light that was present was the streetlight outside your bedroom window.
“You always look at me like that.” He hissed out in a hushed tone, now lapping his tongue against your neck.
“Like what?”
“Like I’m not me. Like… I’m worth a damn.” Like I’m not just another fuck, he thought.
“Because you are.” You declared once his eyes met yours seconds later.
He didn’t respond with words, but he did kiss you again. This time more urgent. Rougher, to the point where his scruff scraped against your skin with every pass. He cupped your breast, and his thumb brushed against your nipple, causing it to pebble underneath, and your back arched into him. You felt his cock against your thigh as he ground his hips into you, but he didn’t rush. He took his time, savoring the feel of your tongue against his.
Your hands explored him in return, grazing fingertips along his shoulders and cupping around his biceps with one hand while the other dipped low, gliding against the low dip of his spine.
Jax pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes soft, “I need you to see me tonight. Not the kutte. Not the club. Just… me, babe, can you do that for me?” God, the way he looked at you sent a shudder down your spine. He was the farthest thing from innocent, but that look could feed patrons for hundreds of years.
You reached up, cupping his jaw, “I already do, Jackson.”
He pressed his forehead against yours with a ragged breath. Then, slowly, he reached between you and guided himself to your entrance. He slid in with a quiet groan against your lips as your walls stretched to welcome him.
Fuck. You gasped at the feel of him; heavy, warm, perfect.
He didn’t move right away once he was fully sheathed. He bracketed both his forearms beside your head to hold himself up as your body fully adjusted. He made sure to study each subtle micro expression and leaned down to kiss you again, more meaningful and sweeter, a far cry from the first batch of kisses you’d shared tonight.
He started to move now, slow and steady, hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that was all need and reverence. Every thrust was deliberate, dragging across your walls and pushing you toward something deeper than just pleasure. You clung to him, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close and unambiguously inside.
“Fuck.” He cursed against your lips.
“Jax–,” you sighed in a whisper. He buried his face in your neck in almost a pathetic attempt to keep it together. You felt him tremble, his biceps twitching as you held him there and the unmistakably twitch of his jaw. He was close. “Jax, baby, you can fall apart here. It’s okay.”
That cracked something open.
His thrusts became uneven now, heavier, as if your permission had granted him the space to unravel. He held you tighter, his fingers digging into your hips and his breath turned ragged.
The build in your core grew hot and insistent. Each grind of his hips pulled a breathless moan from your lips. The weight of him, the way he moved inside you, the emotion… it was too much and not enough all at once.
Your climax crept in slowly, like a tide rising. Your body tensed under him, and he felt it, slipping a hand between your legs to circle your clit with practiced fingers. “Come for me.” He muttered against your ear, “Come while I’m inside you.”
Your mind protested for a moment before caving, your body obeying after the third pass of his cock following his request. Your walls clenched around him as your release hit. You cried out his name, fingers splaying his shoulder blades as you clung to him as he wrung out every bit of what you could give him.
“Shit,” he groaned, his hips sputtering. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”
He came with a broken sound, burying himself deep one last time, his whole body going rigid for a few seconds before he slumped over you, chest heaving.
For a long moment, neither of you moved. You just held each other, hearts thudding in sync, sweat cooling on your skin. Eventually, he rolled onto his side, pulling you into him so you were tucked against his chest. He wrapped an arm around you, his thumb tracing circles on your back.
“I didn’t come here to do this.” Jax admitted, staring at the ceiling like he regretted what transpired. He didn’t, but he did at the same time.
“I know.” You said in a whisper.
Then… “But I’m glad I did.”
You tilted your head upward and smiled, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Me too.”
He didn’t say anything else. He just held you closer, tightening his arms around your frame.
#jax teller x you#jax teller x reader#jax teller#sons of anarchy#soa#samcro#jax teller fic#jax teller fanfic#samcro fic#soa fic#jax teller smut#jackson teller#one shot#jax teller one shot#wrote this in less than 24 hours who is SHE???
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Female reader x Jax Teller Explicit Language & Possible spoilers. If you're under the age of 18, haven't finished the show, or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.
Request: "Hey hey, I saw your post and wanted to req a jax x reader where there's no Tara and he's pined for reader since high school? Maybe he's asked her out a few times and been rejected bc she's nervous to get involved with the club but finally he wares her down for a date and she's surprised with how damn romantic he is with her?"
Back story: Jax and y/n go way back, high school years to be specific. Despite y/n’s consistent rejection, it never changed his affection for her. Jax understood that her reluctance to get involved with him may have stemmed from her nervousness about his affiliation with the Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club. Although she knew they helped the town out a lot… she had also heard rumours of the darker aspects that took place behind the closed doors of their clubhouse.
[7 years ago - the last time you saw Jax]

“So this is how it ends, huh?” Jax says, his muscular frame towering over you as he leant against the lockers. “Not even one date?” He questions, puzzled by your lack of interest.
Jax’s words hang in the air, as you feel a slight heat rising to your cheeks. Despite the undeniable attraction to him, the life that you know he’s associated with seems somewhat overwhelming and intimidating.
A faint smile tugged at the corners of your lips, as you looked him up and down. “Good luck prospecting Jax” you genuinely wish him well. You’d heard the whispers that Jax was officially going to be joining the motorcycle club that held significant pride for both him, and his late father.
Jax called out to you as you turned to walk away, his voice stopping you in your tracks. “Wait…y/n” he says, sounding curious. “Is that the reason you’ve never gone out with me…you got a problem with the patch or something?”
You scrambled to find the right words, feeling a mixture of concern and unease. “No…I just… I didn’t say that… I…” you manage to stutter out, not wanting to give Jax the impression that you thought badly of the patch.
Jax eyes you up and down, with that familiar Teller smirk on his face. It confirmed his skepticism. Your fumbled words hadn’t convinced him and he could tell there was more to your hesitation than what you were admitting.
“I’ve…heard things” you say softly, not wanting to offend.
“What sorts of things?” He raises an eyebrow, as he places his cap on his head - backwards of course - the words ‘reaper crew’ displayed proudly.
“Just things” you snap back, trying to avoid the conversation all together.
Jax chuckled slightly, entertained by the fact that others were talking about the club behind his back. He knew the rumours floating around held some sort of weight but no one would be able to prove anything.
“Well y/n” Jax said almost possessively, “you could’ve just said from the get go that you don’t fuck with the biker life, I would’ve left you alone” Jax delivered a playful and gentle punch to your shoulder before turning to walk away, his movements showing a hint of hurt and annoyance. It was clear that your words had struck a nerve and he was upset by your response.
[Present Day]
"Fuck," you cursed under your breath as you heard the sound of air escaping from some part of your car. Frustration boiled inside of you as you realized the cause of the sound - a popped tyre. You gripped the steering wheel tightly with both hands, aware of a nearby garage that was just a few minutes away.

Pulling into the Teller-Morrow garage, you couldn't help but chuckle slightly as memories of your high school days flooded your mind. You had spent most of your time dodging the Prince of Anarchy, and now, seven years later, here you were - in his very domain - needing something from him and his club.
As you navigate the lot, you park your car in an empty space just in front of the garage. You give a courteous smile to the two older men working on different vehicles inside the garage as you make your way up to the main office door. As you push through, entering the world of SAMCRO for the first time, you hear the gentle jingle of the overhead bell.
Sitting behind the desk is a short and cheerful man. His presence peculiar yet inviting. As he waves a friendly greeting you mentally question the unconventional digits on his hands. One real finger on each hand whilst the others seem strangely unfamiliar, you realise after getting a closer look that they are prosthetics.
“Bonjour Madame!” he says, perfecting his French accent. You laugh slightly, not expecting the foreign greeting. Once he learns about your flat tyre, he assures you that it will be taken care of right away. He invites you to take a seat in the waiting area as he works on getting things sorted for you.
As you cautiously settle onto the worn leather sofa, you scan your surroundings in the office. Half naked women grace the walls, Harley Davidson memorabilia, skulls and grim reapers placed around wherever there was space. Small, crumpled ‘to do:’ notes thrown about, adding to the slightly chaotic atmosphere.
Your attention was interrupted abruptly by the deafening roar of motorcycles entering the parking lot. One by one riding in and parking with practiced ease. You maintain a watchful eye as you watch each of them dismount their bikes, all rocking the same attire - a leather vest with the bold words ‘SONS OF ANARCHY’ stretched across their backs accompanied by a menacing reaper emblem. One biker in particular, standing out to you.

You watch as the familiar man in question walks towards the office door with a nostalgic stride - one you’d notice anywhere. However, when he entered he remained absorbed in his phone, oblivious to his surroundings, oblivious to you. “Chuckie, have you heard from my mom?” He questions, his voice shattering the silence. His voice has grown matured and slightly rougher since the last time you had heard it.
“Non, désolé” the man you now know is called Chuckie responds.
“You know, I preferred it when you spoke in riddles” Jax says, a hint of frustration in his tone. He seemed somewhat agitated by the apparent change in Chuckie’s communication style.
Chuckies shoulders sagged slightly, and his tone softened as he spoke… “I accept that” he replies as he acknowledges Jax’s frustration.
“He said he hasn’t seen your mom” you declare, suddenly making Jax aware of your presence. He looks up from his phone, a mixture of surprise and curiosity flickering in his eyes as he lay them on you.
Upon realising your identity, his eyes widen in a sense of delight “y/n… as I live and breath” he exclaims, the unexpected reunion seems to overshadow any other thoughts or concerns he previously had.
“In the flesh” you say matching his sarcastic tone. Jax extends his hand, offering a helping grip to guide you up from the sofa. In a gesture, he pulls you into an embrace, pulling you in a surprising but comforting warmth. You feel the distinct texture of the patch on the back of his kutte, each thread carefully holding in to place the emblem of the reaper that marks his club.
As you both pull away, you take note of the ‘President’ patch that jax wears proudly.
“President huh?” You say with slight shock, but jax is able to detect the proudness in your voice.
Jax responds with a cocky remark, his tone laced with playfulness though. “Yeah… I guess you could say your luck helped me get here” he shoots back, referring to the last words you had spoken to each other all those years ago.

You open your mouth to rectify those words you spoke to Jax, but before you can, he cuts you off.
“I’m just messin’ with you y/n. What brings you here anyway?” He peers out of the office door, noticing a unfamiliar car. “That yours?” He questions.
Before you can respond, Chuckie, who had been silently observing your exchange from behind the desk, pipes up.
“sa voiture a un…” Chuckie stops abruptly as Jax shoots daggers with his eyes, another attempt at asking him to stop with the French bullshit. “Sorry boss… flat tyre” he says, back to his usual voice.
“Find someone and get it sorted, now” Jax says, excluding absolute authority. Chuckie rushes off from behind the desk and makes his way into the garage.
“I accept that” he says once more.
Jax notices the unspoken questions etched onto your face, the curiosity obvious in your expression. “Don’t ask” he laughs lightly, moving even closer to you.
“You know, y/n your tyre popping so close to the clubhouse might just be fate trying to bring us back together” he smirks his tone light but teasing.
In the short moment that it takes for Jax’s words to leave his lips, your mind is already racing through the different types of men you had dated in the last seven years. Polished, corporate types, the stereotypical ‘good guys’. The realisation that neither of these types ended in the relationships that you desired. Perhaps, just maybe, it was time for something riskier something more tempting. Maybe it was time to choose a different path.
“Not you still tryna get a date out of me after all these years” you respond, attempting to mirror his confidence. Jax can hear the playfulness in your tone, and it only helps to boost his ego further.
He shrugs his shoulders, at you with a playful glimmer in his eye. A glimmer you were used to except it’s aged slightly. His once smooth skin now bears a few delicate lines at the corner of either eyes, a telling tale to the amount of time passed. A slight touch of maturity and wisdom, making him even more attractive.
"I don't know your current situation, but if you're down, I'm down," he says, with anticipation, silently hoping for you to still be single.
You extend your hand in front of Jax, showing no sign of a ring. Indicating that you are currently unattached. His lips then curve into a subtle smirk and he nods in understanding.
“Well, your car might take an hour or two” he says, thoughtfully but casual. “You wanna go grab something to eat?” He locks onto your gaze, as he asks you. The suggestion hangs in the air waiting to become more so.
“What now? Like… right now?” You splutter out.
Jax finds amusement in your mild awkwardness, and he playfully mimics your earlier words, teasing, "Not you still trying to get out of it." His smile growing wider.
Hastily you respond, not wanting to give the wrong impression. “No! I’m not… I want to it’s just…” Your eyes wander down your casual attire “I’m not exactly dressed for a date” you laugh slightly embarrassed.
Jax takes a moment to consider, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible. "Alright," he says thoughtfully, his tone genuine. "Let's call it a pre-date, a date before a real date. For now, just two old friends grabbing a bite to eat. No pressure."
You nod in agreement, a soft smile breaking across your face. "Okay," you respond, accepting the terms of the 'pre-date.'
“Okay” he smiles, repeating his words, as if he can’t actually believe you’ve finally agreed. “Wait here a second? I’ve just got to let my VP know I’ll be gone for a few hours” Jax says, his presidency shining through again.
“VP?” You question.
“Vice president” he laughed, finding your lack of biker knowledge cute. “Second in command” he winks before walking out the office door.
“Right” you say, laughing to yourself, stealing a quick glance in the office mirror making sure you look at least somewhat presentable.
Outside, Jax bumps into Chuckie. “How longs that tyre gonna take chuck?” He questions lifting his head towards the car.
“Guys said about 30 minutes” Chuckie says, rushing over to Jax’s side.
Jax looks around making sure he’s unable to be heard. “Tell them to make it an hour…maybe two”
Chuckie is clearly confused, but knows better than to question jax.
“j'accepte ça” he mutters quietly under his breath. [At Franks Restaurant]

Deep in conversation, you both walk towards the doors of Franks restaurant. Jax quickens his pace, he does a swift jog to reach the doors before you. “After you, my lady” a glint of mischief in his eyes as he mimics a more sophisticated tone.
As you both enter, you notice the curious glances from the other customers. All taking in the proud statement of affiliation to the Sons of Anarchy club that Jax wears loudly on display. Some looking with admiration whilst others avoid eye contact all together.
You observe Jax exchanging friendly greetings with the waitress, a sign that this establishment is a familiar one.
As you settle into your seats opposite each other, you can’t help but notice how intensely Jax is studying you. Feeling slightly self conscious you question him, wondering why he’s being so precise.
“What is it?” You laugh lightly, trying to brush away the self doubt.
“Just thinking” he says, nonchalantly.
“Thinking about…” you drag your words out as you circle two fingers around each other encouraging him to finish his sentence.
“Why it took you so long to finally give me a chance” his answer filled with curiousity and longing.
You take a moment before you finally answer, conflicting thoughts rushing through your mind. When you think back now you wonder to yourself ‘why was I so scared to give him a chance?’ It boils down to the rumours you had heard about Jax - his family, the motorcycle club, which at the time he wasn’t even a part of - but now that you had grown and lived life yourself, you realised just how insignificant those things really were. You realise that maybe, just maybe if you had agreed to even one of those dates back then, you could have had the relationship you always desired.
You sigh softly, the memories of being young and easily influenced. “I was young, Jax…the stories and things I’d hear about your world I just… I don’t know it was all new to me”
Jax smiles at your honest response, his expression showing understanding rather than offence. The waitress brings over your food orders, and you find yourselves engaged in heartfelt conversation. You talk about the highs and lows of your lives, laughing about past relationships that never worked out, remembering your high school days and learning more about eachother’s lives.
When you’re both finished eating, Jax’s eyes linger on a small bit of food beneath your lip. His voice takes on a tone of gentle authority. “Come here” he says, as he reaches out with his thumb to gently wipe it away. His touch delicate - a contrast to the aura he gives off. The warmth of his touch sends a soft shiver down your spine leaving you wanting to feel his touch again.
As you attempt to conceal the pleasurable shiver that courses through your body, you try your best to maintain composure, but Jax as observant as he is takes note of your reaction.
"Why thank you" you respond, your voice laced with a subtle undertone of growing desire and longing.
The waitress glides over to your table with a charming smile, placing a fresh piece of cherry pie in front of you and Jax. The dessert, a complimentary treat, arrives accompanied by a single fork. She gracefully clears away the empty plates, leaving you and Jax facing the l slice of cherry pie and one lonely fork.
Jax smoothly slides the plate towards him and claims the fork, carefully selecting a piece of the pie. He does something unexpected. He leans towards you with the fork balancing a piece of pie in one and, and his other hovering just below to catch any rogue crumbs. He brings the piece of pie to your lips, maintaining strict eye contact and creating an intimate moment between the both of you as he feeds you a bite of the pie.
Jax locks eyes with you, the intensity of your stare causing him to react immediately. His slight shift in his seat betrays the growing struggle that he’s trying to hide. The air is suddenly thick with unspoken tension.

With a seductive gaze, you mirror the gesture from earlier. Taking the fork from Jax’s hand you also select a piece of pie. Balancing the fork in the air waiting for his approval. He glances around discreetly to ensure there are no prying eyes. “Can’t let people think I’m soft now” he laughs slightly, knowing in this moment he definitely is not ‘soft’ - before giving you the green light to proceed. Your heart beats with anticipation as you carefully feed him the next piece of pie.
As Jax munches on the pie, a small nod of approval follows. “That’s some good pie” clearly satisfied with his dessert.
You exchange a look across the table, a silent communication between you both that needs no words. The look between your eyes speaks volumes. It’s as if the entire world fades away in that moment, leaving only the two of you aware of something special currently unfolding.
You clear your throat a little, trying to downplay your eagerness. Glancing at the time on your phone, with a hint of reluctance you ask “So… do you think my car will be done now?” trying to shift the conversation back to reality.
Jax confidently nods his head in agreement, already having the knowledge that your tyre would have been sorted out long ago but he wanted the opportunity to spend a good amount of time with you. “Yeah, I’d say so” he replies, his eye contact still strong, as if he’s taking in all of you before he has to say goodbye.
As you both reach the cash register, you move to grab your purse from your bag. Jax takes note of your intention, his laugh soft but affectionate. He steps forward positioning himself between you and the register. “I got this, y/n it’s on me” he asserts. His gesture is both romantic and thoughtful.
Jax confidently strides out of the restaurant, as you follow with a playful remark escaping your lips. “Well aren’t you a gentleman” you tease, as you both walk back towards his bike.
He smirks in response, his words spoken with a hint of challenge. "Well, you would have found that out years ago if you weren't so scared of me," he jokes waiting for your response.
“I was not scared of you!” You say, attempting to push him playfully. Instead he counters by grabbing you mid-push lifting you off the ground before setting you back down again. Laughter spills from your lips as you feel the butterflies ignite in your stomach. “I wasn’t scared of you” you say again, making sure Jax understands.
“I’m messin’ darlin” he says, as he takes a seat on his bike. Once again, taking in all of you.
You lean against the wall, a heartfelt “Thank you” slipping from your lips. Jax can tell that you’re being sincere and you definitely were. You really did appreciate the thoughtfulness of Jax taking you out on this ‘pre-date’ and you also both acknowledged the deeper connection that has sparked between you both.
You make eye contact with him once more, a twinkle in your eye which teases him slightly. “You know Teller… I never knew you could be so…romantic”. It’s a playful acknowledgment of the unexpected side of Jax, that you have only just discovered these past hours together. A side that shows more depth, more emotions than you thought possible. A side that made you think, the tempting road ahead, was worth taking.
Jax takes in your compliment. He is very aware that he doesn’t radiate the conventional romantic aura, but hearing that from you, especially given your past rejections adds a special significance.
Jax, feeling the weight of your words and the sincerity behind them, is somewhat unsure of how to respond. He runs his fingers through his hair before putting on his helmet, giving him a moment to gather his thoughts and compose himself before responding. It’s clear that your comment has touched a deeper part of him, a part that hasn’t been touched before.
“I’m all about the fairytale, baby” he smirks, as he starts his bike up, waiting for you to join him.

Thank you so fucking much for this request! Honestly! I know it took forever but I was getting so carried away & trying to find a good place to end haha! I promise you that whatever you’ve imagined, I have too! So send in those requests I am down for writing about whatever! [I’m also rewatching again I’ve just started season 6 and I’m already crying about reaching season 7] but yes thank you thank you thank you. I hope you love it! Gifs, Photos & Music do not belong to me.
CHERRY PIE PT 2: A SLICE OF LIFE Jax Teller Masterlist
xoxo secretly samcro
#jax teller#jax teller one shot#jax teller x reader#samcro#sons of anarchy#charlie hunnam#jax teller imagine#jax x reader#secretly samcro#soa#sons of anarchy fanfiction#jax teller fanfiction#jackson teller#y/n#your name#fanfiction#SOA fanfic#soa fanfiction
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jax is the type of guy who silently stares when you fall asleep on the couch, before carrying you back to bed with a cigarette still dangling from his lips. the type of guy who quietly refills your coffee every morning, without you having to ask. the type to buy you stupid little things he sees in gas stations; a pink lighter, cheap silver earrings, cherry chapstick he licks off your lips. jax is the type of guy who whispers “be good” before pulling your panties to the side in the garage while the boys are still out front. the type who whispers filth in your ear as he buries his fingers inside you, begging you to come for him.
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okay, but jax teller def has a size kink...
he loves the fact that he's so much bigger than you, that you feel so small under him. when he's taking you from behind, he leans over your back, kissing your neck and whispering things into your ear. when he's taking you on your back, he's so close it's practically suffocating, his chest to your chest as he fucks you into the mattress, leaving nowhere for you to go (not that you wanted to). he loves being on top of you, showing you who you belong to.
#🎀#𖦹 ׂ 𓈒 ☀️ sol rambles .ᐟ#sorry yall#this man lives rent free in my head#jax teller#jax teller x reader#jax teller x you#jax teller smut#jackson teller#jackson teller x reader#jackson teller x you#jackson teller smut#sons of anarchy#soa
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ㅤ୨୧ tags explicit content slight corruption and size kink, female reader, college girl reader, canon compliant, jax is all soft for her, maybe dubcon?? a little??
ㅤ୨୧ WC 0.3k
ㅤ୨୧ notes i wrote this a few weeks ago when i first started watching SOA, crazy that this is my tumblr comeback. whatever. i love charlie hunnam
࿏
This shit is unacceptable.
It’s not like this is anything new (no, this has been going on for the better part of half a year now), Jax makes it a point to see her at least once a week. For multiple reasons, but the main one being a selfish one—he needs this. Needs it like he needs oxygen, needs water. He’d love to believe it’s nothing more than carnal, that he’s just never happier than when he’s sinking himself inside of her.
But, really?
The love he’s starting to develop for this girl is killing him; killing his commitment to the club, making him softer.
Knowing all of this should get him pissed at her. That’s usually how it ends. He’s never been good with his temper, but for some reason, she makes him want to fix that shit. First time he ever tried to take some bullshit out on her, she slapped the hell out of him. Yeah, she’s the farthest thing from those crow eaters he’s used to. Or used to be used to. Hasn’t been with one of them since he got her. And they’re not even official. Pathetic, right?
But like he said before, he needs her.
“Mm-mm,” he murmurs into the soft skin of her neck, mouthing over the pretty mole there. His breath is hot, biting. He’s got her bent over her desk (God, he’s such a dick—corrupting a sweet, innocent college girl—got so much ahead of her, so much going on in that gorgeous head of hers), homework long forgotten. And he’s so big, he can tell she’s still not used to it by the way she clenches and shudders and presses herself down into the desk, trying to run from the punishment of his hips. “Oh, baby, you can take it,” he coos, the cold, silver metal of his rings prominent as his fingers curl over the expanse of her slim waist.
She whines, and he groans, lifting his weight off of her slightly, only to push deeper. “Don’t cry,” he thinks he’d be so good at acting, because his voice sounds like he’s just so sorry for her. He’s not. “You got it, sweetheart. You were made for me, huh?”
#jax teller x reader#jax teller#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy#jax teller sons of anarchy#charlie hunnam#jax#jackson teller#jackson teller x reader#x black reader#x black fem reader#x female reader#x fem!reader#jax teller smut#smut
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this is character development
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Are you okay with doing like a little mini smut series request of Jax teller x curvy!reader?
jax teller x fem!curvy reader
782 words
tags: +18 mdni, smut, thigh fucking, play fighting, oral sex, I made Jax teller an ass and thighs man, not beta read
a/n: i made this a x fem reader, hope that's okay, also I wasn't sure how to go abt fulfilling this ask, even though i wanted to, because i'm not a curvy person, I never was and dind't want to accidentally offend/hurt anyone, so i wrote this with some bits my chubby friends have shared. i hope you'll like it <3 + Also, abt a series, I don't think I'm ready to take on that type of challenge yet, but i wrote this as a little gift. I'm sure there's others who will make a series of this, or you could, dear @none-of-ur-business-fuck-off, everyone can write fic <3
Jax Teller who can't keep his paws to himself whenever his girlfriend is around. Who enjoys terrorising her by just biting her, if the bastard could take a nibble of his gf's cheek he would because he swears she tastes like sprinkles and sugar, even though it's her lotions and soaps. She gets annoyed and tries to wrestle him off her, but he just laughs and plays with her, shamelessly using his strength to hold her down while she's squirming around, "Let me go, Jackson!"
Jax who, when he gets bored while they're watching a movie together, he keeps squeezing her chubby thighs in his hands, he really tries to be as gentle as possible, but he sometimes to keep his strength in check so she squeals when he squeezes too tight and he coos, "'m sorry, baby, didn't mean to, you're just so soft-"
Jax Teller who just loves to show off and uses his strength to manhandle n throw his pretty girl around in bed. She tries to pretend that it's annoying but he knows she likes it, can see the secret shy smiles n the heated stares she gives him when he drags her to his lap just for a kiss.
Jax Teller who bites her on the ass when they're play fighting and she screams, fighting him off to get away from his mouth, but he's a dog when it comes to having her body close, he's not as cool and chill as he thinks he is, his brain shuts down and he starts acting stupid the second he realises he can touch her in any way he wants and no one will give him shit for it, like when they're home alone.
Jax who uses her thick thighs as pillows, who rests his head on her stomach, her thighs over his shoulders, he claims it warms his ear and she smells nice. He's plotting in his head when he'll strike and pull her shorts down to bury his face in her pussy but then she scratching his head, running her fingers through his head and his shoulders sag. He hums, closing his eyes, and before he knows it, he's drooling a little on her thighs, snoring between her legs.
Jax who holds a gold medal in the Pussy Eating Championship. He prides himself in making his girlfriend shake and cry under his tongue, who thoroughly enjoys having so much fat and chub to hold onto while he goes to town on her. Then when he's done, he playfully slaps the inside of her thigh, making her squeal, "You good, baby?" He asks, blonde hair sticking in all directions, a result of her holding onto his head for dear life. He laughs when she can't answer him with coherent words and wipes his wet mouth with the back of his hand. He starts to unbuckle his belt and she makes a panicked little noise, he shushes her, a hand on one of her thighs, "Hey, 's okay, I'll give her a break, yeah? Just let me fuck your thighs, okay?"
He doesn't wait for an answer before he flips her around on her stomach, dragging her hips up like it was nothing, pushing a pillow under them. He lowers his jeans down his hips with his boxers, he was already hard between his legs, his dick bobbing when he moved. So like the dirty man he was, he runs his open palm over her wet and messy pussy, then uses that wetness to slick himself a little before covering her body in his. When he slips between her thighs, he throws his head with a groan, she was soft, warm and slippery, and he was pressed tight against her pussy lips, that felt hotter than any other part of her body. He starts to rut against her and she's making little breathy noises, Jax leans down, kisses her temple and speaks in her ear, "Clench them up for me,"
She whines, unable to control her muscles anymore, but she still tries and fails. Jax smiles a little, leaning back to see better as he grabs her by the thighs, a hand in each side, "I'll do it, just stay still," He squeezes the flesh together as much as possible and she moans, clawing at the sheets as he bumps her clit with each thrust, his dick fighting to get inside where it really belongs. But Jax doesn't care about that, he only cares about coming between her thighs. As long as he gets to have his dick anywhere near his gorgeous girlfriend, he's grateful. He may be a greedy bastard sometimes, but he has always been grateful, always.
#fanfiction#fanfic#18+ mdni#jackson jax teller#jackson teller#jax teller#sons of anarchy#jax teller x reader#jax teller x y/n#jax teller x you#sons of anarchy smut#smut#fem reader#female reader#one shot#imagine#fluff#soa fanfiction#soa jax#soa imagine#soa x reader#soa smut#jax jackson teller#jax teller smut#jax teller x curvy reader#jax teller x chubby reader#jax teller x fat reader#sons of anarchy fic#sons of anarchy fanfiction#sons of anarchy jax
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Charlie Hunnam as Jax Teller ⤷ Sons of Anarchy, S01E01 | 2008
#charlie hunnam#jax teller#jaxtelleredit#sons of anarchy#soaedit#jackson 'jax' teller#chunnamedit#charliehunnamedit#flawlessgentlemen#mensource#dailymenedit#dailymen#dilfgifs#dailymensource#dailymencelebs#dailymengifs#uservox#userbbelcher#userstream#usersam#nyxvuxoa#tvandfilm#cinemapix#junkfooddaily#movieedit#userfilm#usersawah#userclayy#filmedit
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Hi baby. Saw the prompt list. 😎 May I have #5 ☆ { calling } them late at night to come over for Jax Teller, please?
Thank you. ♥
⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Jax Teller x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ Sons of Anarchy ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 1.1k ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Fluff | Smut | Jax and his filthy mouth (language) | Foreplay | P-i-V | Pull-out Method | More fluff | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ Sorry if this is total ass... but I hope this brings you some joy. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ This was found through Google and is not my GIF, if this is your GIF or know whose it is, please inbox me, so I can credit the creator. Thank you! ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙
It was just one of those nights, there's only so much scrolling you can do before things become repetitive, and boring in your feeds. Flipping between Tumblr, Reddit, and Facebook, things were becoming boring, and nothing was helping you fall asleep. Tapping the side of your phone, you flip through old photos, smiling now and again looking over Jax's face. Sitting up in bed, you check the time, 12:24 a.m. Sighing, you decide to give it a shot, chances are Jax was up anyway, so why not.
Scrolling down and finding his name, you hit the call button, and wait. Ringing you groan, maybe he was --
"Hey, Darlin'. You alright? What's up?" he asks, you can tell there's a smile on his face.
"Hey, Baby. I know it's kinda late, but would you mind coming over... I can't sleep... and I could use the company." you bite your lip a bit.
"Yeah, sure, I'll be over in 15." he stated.
After the brief conversation and a quick I love you and a hangup, you go unlock your door, knowing he'll lock it when he gets here.
Hearing the motorcycle approach, and the engine turn off, you feel this bubble of excitement pulse through you. It was a matter of time before you heard your front door open, close, lock, and the sound of boots headed your way.
Peeking his head in, he looks over you, and you smile, moving over you pat the empty space in your bed and gesture for him to join you. Taking the hint, he makes his way over, slipping off his vest and coat, tossing his hat on the table, and kicking off his boots and socks, he slips into bed.
"Your pants... your shirt... are in the way." you smirk.
He chuckles and standing back up he takes them off, dropping them to the floor before climbing back in under the covers. You scoot yourself closer, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close.
"Can't sleep?" he asked you.
Nodding, your fingers move over his chest as you look up at him and smile. "Thank you for coming over."
"It's nothin' Darlin'. I've always told you I'm a call away." he kisses the top of your head.
A soft smile graces your lips as you scoot a little closer to him and let out a small satisfied smile. But you seem you can't keep your hands from wandering on him. Slipping under the blanket, you keep your gaze on him as you move over his boxers. Smiling, you bite at your lip and kiss him sweetly.
A slight chuckle escapes his lips as he pulls you closer to him, his hand roaming your figure as he moves you to lay on top of him, holding you close, his hips move upward a bit, kissing you deeply, and he slips the shirt from your body and tosses it to the floor along with his clothes.
Pressing yourself against him, your hands move up along his sides and find your way to get tangled in that love head of golden locks. The kissing gets a little heavier between you two, the touching, how you press your hips against him, feeling him harden against you. You move your hand between your legs as you grip him through his boxers. He groans against your lips as he grips your breast, pulling you closer, and kissing you deeper.
The kissing, the touching, the grunts, and the groans were enough to send you into a feral mind. Moving his boxers down, you slip him right between your lips, your hips press yourself down, pressing him deeper inside you. You both end up groaning in unison.
His grip on your hips is tight, his fingers pressing hard against your flesh, indenting as he thrusts upward just enough to finish that last little bit you wanted to slip inside you. The streetlights are the only thing illuminating the room, your shadow cast on the walls. Looking over, he watches your shadow as you brace yourself against his chest and begin to move up and down on his cock.
Holding your thighs in his hands, he watches the way you move against him, your hands pressing into his chest as he moves his own up your body, feeling your flesh under his hands was a sort of high for him. He presses a hand against your chest, between your breasts, as he slowly guides your motions as he thrusts upward.
As you are being guided with a hand on your chest, one on your hip, and his cock between your legs, your head falls back as you let out a loud, long, drawn-out moan. Your body trembles as you pick up on the sounds, the smells, the way the air tastes. Listening to him grunt and your own moans fill the air. It's all palpable. Erotic. Addicting.
The way you both work against and with each other, it sends these shockwaves through both of you, a genuine quickie, you feel yourself building, but of course, it doesn't help with his own buildup, you can tell in his tone, in how frequent his groans become, in how his breath smells. Leaning forward, you moan against his lips. And that's when he tells you to finish with him. He lifts you up, and you grip his cock as he works your bud.
Before you know it, your whole body trembles, feeling those hot ribbons of white pour against you. Whimpering and trembling against him, you begin to pant. Achieving your desired goal, he leans against the pillow but grabs something to clean you up.
There was hardly anything spoken between you two. But you lay there, holding him close, you look up at him as he stares down at you.
"You feel good." you chuckle.
"What even was that?" he chuckles.
"I think it's called a quickie. You should be used to those." you poke.
"Ohh, is that what that was? I like those... but next time... we do a longie... not a quickie," he smirks.
"I'll play with your longie." you chuckle.
"No, Darlin', we call it a cock, longie.... please no." he chuckles. "Besides, I like the way the word cock escapes your lips." he smirked.
"You like your cock between my lips Jax..." you joust.
Gasping he chuckles. "That is true... gotta say, you're a good cocksucker." he winks.
The night continued into the morning, and eventually, you had both fallen asleep. His arms wrapped around you, his face in your hair, and you clung to him like your entire life depended on it. You were glad you called him over, much needed, and the sleep was much better with him there.
#jax teller x reader#jax teller x you#jax x you#jax x reader#jax teller gif#jax teller fanfiction#jax teller imagine#jax teller smut#samcro#sons of anarchy#jackson teller#jax teller#jax teller x female reader#sons of anarchy smut#soa smut#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy fanfiction#sons of anarchy fic#sons of anarchy x reader#soa fanfiction#charlie hunnam#charlie hunnam gif#charlie hunnam character#Writing Prompt Request#Prompt Request#voxmortuus
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Charlie Hunnam as Jackson 'Jax' Teller SONS OF ANARCHY (September 3, 2008 – December 9, 2014)
#sons of anarchy#soa#soaedit#jackson jax teller#jax teller#charlie hunnam#chunnamedit#charliehunnamedit#tv#tvedit#tvarchive#gifs
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Stepping out onto the porch, the cold air wraps around you like an unwelcome embrace, turning your breath into frosty clouds that linger in the night. Your thick coat does little to shield your cheeks from the biting chill, but you hardly notice as your eyes land on him.
Jax is leaning casually against his bike, his usual cocky smirk replaced by a rare, soft smile that makes your heart stumble. The dim porch light catches on the golden strands of his hair, glinting beneath the slightly crooked Santa hat perched on his head.
He’s holding up a small, neatly wrapped box, the corners of the paper just slightly crumpled as if he’d wrestled with it himself.
“Told you I’d make it back in time,” he says, his voice low and warm, cutting through the cold.
Your gaze catches on the Santa hat perched atop his head again, slightly askew and comically out of place against his leather kutte. A laugh bubbles up before you can stop it. “You look ridiculous,” you tease, crossing your arms for warmth but letting the fondness seep into your tone.
He steps closer, the faint scent of leather and motor oil clinging to him, as familiar as your own heartbeat. “Yeah, but I’m your kind of ridiculous,” he murmurs, his grin widening as he reaches for you.
Before you can reply, his hands are on your waist, tugging you into a kiss. His lips are warm, tasting faintly of winter and cigarette smoke, and they immediately chase away the chill.
It’s the kind of kiss that makes your knees weak and your heart race—a kiss that promises he’s home, at least for now.
When you finally pull back, breathless, the firelight flickering through the window seems a pale comparison to the heat between you. “Merry Christmas, babe,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against yours.
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