#jax teller x reader

[rebelwrites]

Red Lingerie, love,darling for Jax Teller for the 100 words

“The hell is that?” You scoffed, cocking your brow are the brand new red lingerie set hanging on the wardrobe door. Once again your husband had been out spending money on stuff you didn’t need.

“A present, darlin’,” Jax smirked leaning against the doorframe, “thought you could wear it tonight underneath your dress.”

You knew what he was doing, or more so what he wanted. Rolling your eyes you were met with a playful grin.

“Fine but only if I get a proper back massage when we get back.”

“Urgh, alright,” he chuckled, “only because I love you.”

[bellaxgiornata]

Wrong Number [2/3]

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 5.7k [Jax Fic Masterlist] [Part One] [Part Three]

Warnings/tags: 18+; humor, sexual content/discussions, Jax POV

Summary: Two weeks after accidentally dialing Jax's number by mistake, a surprising friendship formed between you both–along with the possibility of something more.

a/n: The first part of this had so much interest that I decided to add two more parts! Jax needs more humor in his life. 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

Jax stepped out of his bedroom holding his phone in one hand and his pack of cigarettes and lighter in the other. Squinting at the morning sunlight that filled his hallway with a golden wash of warmth, he began to shuffle barefoot down the length of it. Briefly pausing just outside of Abel’s bedroom, Jax lightly nudged the door open with the hand holding his phone. As it inched open a crack, Jax peered inside and found Abel still fast asleep, safely tucked beneath his blankets. The sight of his son peacefully dreaming had the corners of his lips curving into a contented smile before he continued down the hallway.

The sound of Jax’s soft footsteps were the only noise in the otherwise quiet morning stillness of his house. As he stepped into the kitchen, Jax set his phone and the pack of cigarettes down onto the counter before he padded barefoot over to the coffee machine and turned it on. Afterwards, he opened up a nearby cabinet and reached inside, pulling down a plain black mug before setting it underneath the coffee machine while it began whirring to life. 

Standing beside the counter as he waited for the machine to heat, Jax ran a hand across his tired eyes. He’d had a long night last night at the clubhouse finalizing some things for a new deal with the guys. He'd been grateful that Gemma had watched Abel and put him down to bed last night, keeping an eye on him until Jax could get back home. With how draining the bullshit from the previous night was, he figured it had been his stress that’d woken him up before eight this morning when Abel still hadn’t even risen, otherwise he'd have still been passed out in his own bed.

The light announcing that the coffee machine had reached temperature flicked on, catching Jax’s attention. Setting the machine to brew himself a cup, he leaned a hip against the counter as one hand ran sluggishly through the messy strands of his hair. The remnants of sleep still clung to his mind as the coffee slowly poured out into his mug, the strong aroma steadily filling his kitchen and helping to wake him. Once the machine had finished brewing his cup, Jax set about adding a bit of sugar and creamer into it before mixing the steaming liquid around with a spoon, his mind completely elsewhere this morning. But just as he’d been about to toss the spoon into the kitchen sink, his phone vibrated with a text message farther along the counter. 

Jax paused for a second, the dirtied spoon hovering over the sink as his eyes slid down to where his phone sat. His shoulders sunk with a tired sigh before he dropped the spoon, a soft clink following as it landed in the sink.

With the steaming mug of coffee in his hand, Jax padded along the floor towards his phone and picked it up, entirely expecting to see a text from Opie or Chibs, or maybe even Gemma nagging him about something. But as he unlocked the screen of his phone, a small smile slipped onto his face at the sight of your name on it–which you’d finally given to him about a week ago now. 

It had been just over two weeks since you’d first accidentally rang him up while fleeing Snake Tongue’s apartment, having been intending to get in touch with your friend Megan. The pair of you often texted each other sporadically over the past couple weeks since then. The messages were often just little things like jokes that had begun to form between you two, but sometimes they were about something more serious. Like you confessing to him that you hadn’t had the nerve for another hookup after Snake Tongue, too afraid that things would end in disaster again. 

Jax had come to look forward to your texts whenever they randomly appeared on his phone. They broke up the monotony and stress of his days, offering him something to smile about for once. Even the guys had learned about the mysterious girl who’d been texting him, beginning to tease Jax about the “crush” he had on you. You were the odd girl who’d caught his attention when he still had no idea what you even looked like, though he’d never sent you a photo of himself, either. Neither of you even knew where the other lived. But none of that had mattered, Jax just enjoyed the humor you brought to his usually dark and frustrating days. You’d accidentally become a friend–even if he’d occasionally thought of you in other ways.

Opening up the text you’d just sent him with his free hand, Jax raised his cup of coffee to his lips with the other. He took a small sip, careful not to burn his tongue on the steaming liquid as he read over the brief few lines you’d sent him.

SOS. I caved and tried again. DISASTER. 

Jax chuckled at your typical dramatics, lowering the mug back down to the counter. Even through text, your personality shone through so impossibly loud. But where he might’ve hated dealing with girls at the club being this bold and forthright with him, he always found himself enjoying it from you. 

Judging by the context of your message, it appeared you’d finally had a hookup after the disappointment that had been your last. Unfortunately, this one appeared to have ended up with the same result. Focusing on his phone, Jax began typing up a message in response to your text as that small smile remained on his lips. He could only imagine what story he’d be in for this morning, and he was secretly grateful that Abel was still asleep so he could actually hear it.

What happened??

Jax had just managed to send his text and pull a cigarette out of his pack on the counter before his phone started vibrating repeatedly. He glanced over at the incoming call, slipping the unlit cigarette between his lips. Grinning around it when he saw your name, he knew that he was in for another one of your rants. Jax slid his lighter into the pocket of his sweatpants before grabbing his cup of coffee, making his way towards his back door as he answered the call. He’d only taken one step, not even having an opportunity to say a single word, before you’d already begun speaking in your usual passionate and heated rush.

“I’m having a bad string of luck,” you told Jax, that familiar irritation in your tone keeping him grinning around his cigarette. “I thought I was finally ready for another hookup after Snake Tongue, especially with all of yours’ and Meg’s pep talks, but oh boy was I wrong.”

“Another shitty guy?” Jax questioned, the unlit cigarette still between his lips. With a little effort, he managed to open the back door despite his full hands. “What happened this time, darlin’?”

“I met The Golfer, that’s what happened,” you shot back.

Jax paused just as he stepped out onto his back patio, his brows drawing together in absolute confusion. The Golfer? Was that supposed to mean something? Or was this another one of your weird little nicknames? Jax closed the back door behind himself before making his way over to the small patio table in his backyard, carefully setting down his coffee cup onto it. Slipping the cigarette out of his mouth, he responded as he pulled out his lighter from his pocket.

“The Golfer?” he repeated in confusion. He paused, lighting his cigarette and taking a drag before continuing. “Like you met some country club dipshit or somethin’?”

“No,” you corrected him firmly. “As in that’s what he fuckin’ deserves to be called after the night I had.”

Jax took another drag off of his cigarette, the nicotine hitting him first thing in the morning always a welcome feeling. He could hear the way you’d placed him on speakerphone, the sound of your car door closing telling him that you were leaving somewhere–possibly this Golfer’s place. Maybe your friend Megan’s. Exhaling the smoke from between his lips, Jax pulled out one of the patio chairs and settled down into it, relaxing back in the chair as he stretched his legs out in front of himself. The morning sun felt good on his bare torso as he sat there, a small grin almost permanently stuck to his face as he spoke to you.

“Why? Was he aimin’ for a hole-in-one and swung too wide?” Jax teased back, always enjoying your sense of humor about this shit. “He miss the hole or somethin’?”

He caught the amused breath that passed over the line, his grin growing wider when you’d reacted to his joke. Somehow, your humor always perfectly aligned with his. It was like sitting back and talking to Opie about shitty hookups–if Opie hooked up with dicks instead of chicks.

“Thankfully, no,” you replied. “I don’t even want to know where he’d swing and get a hole if it wasn’t the right one, Jax. Any of the other options would’ve been completely off-limits.”

He chuckled, his eyes on the cigarette in his fingers while he held the phone to his ear with his other hand. “So why the name? Did he misplace his golf club in you or somethin’, sweetheart?”

This time you actually laughed out loud, the pleasant sound causing Jax to relax further back into his chair. He slipped his cigarette back between his lips as the distinct noise of your car starting up came through the background of the call.

“You know what? I’d have probably gotten more satisfaction out of a misplaced golf club,” you told him when you’d caught your breath again. “Would’ve lasted longer than him, too.”

“Shit, sweetheart,” Jax said, leaning forward to grab his coffee mug from the metal table. “How short was this idiot's game?”

“Short,” you answered sharply, clearly still upset. “This two pump chump thought the point of sex was finishing in as few strokes as possible. Hence the name.”

Jax practically choked on the coffee he’d just swallowed down at your comment, sputtering for a moment in his laughter. Goddammit, you never failed to be quick with your insults first thing in the morning, particularly when you were upset. It took a moment before he recovered, readjusting his position in the metal patio chair as he lowered the mug back to the table.

“That’s gotta be an exaggeration, right?” he questioned. “Two pumps? Tell me it wasn’t just two, darlin’.”

“Nope,�� you shot back. “Asshole wanted me to suck his dick first, and I was fine with it, figured what the fuck, right?” 

You paused, expelling a long, irate breath over the line. Jax had spoken to you enough over the past couple of weeks to know what was coming next–your heated tangent. Biting his lip, he fought back a smile at your unfortunate situation as he waited for you to finish telling him the story.

“But then he fucking stuck it in, barely fucked me, and then rolled right the fuck over and passed out,” you spat. “And look, I get it, sometimes guys don’t always last long. Dude was drunk, too. But to not even return the favor after I sucked his dick?” You paused, scoffing in annoyance. “That’s just some bullshit. Asshole left me high and dry–with an emphasis on the dry.”

“Oh, c’mon, really?” Jax asked, his brows drawing together in disbelief. “You mean to tell me that you put in the work and he just passed out on you? That's rude as hell, sweetheart. That dipshit shoulda made damn sure you were good after only givin’ you two fuckin’ pumps.” Looking down at the lit cigarette still between his fingers, he remembered the last failed hookup you’d had and how that guy had gotten his nickname from you. “I’m guessin’ this Golfer was another dumbass who thought clits were a myth, too, yeah?”

A sharp, humorless laugh met his comment almost immediately. Jax chuckled at the sound as he slipped the cigarette between his lips, taking another drag. You were definitely left unsatisfied this morning, he could tell by how riled up you sounded on the other end of the call.

“Pretty sure his ass didn’t even know clits exist,” you retorted. 

Blowing out a trail of smoke, Jax crossed his ankles, focusing on his bare feet warming in the morning sun. “Might wanna be careful with your next hookup,” he teasingly warned. “At this rate, he might think your g-spot is on the roof of your mouth. Or in your damn armpit.”

A loud bark of laughter rang out over the line, the sound keeping the smile on his face. You were always so fucking easy to talk to about this shit. The thought of talking about sex with any of the girls at the clubhouse or Redwoody made him want to slam his head in a door, but with you it was enjoyable. Fun, even. 

“Please do not put that into the universe on me, Jax,” you begged, a smile clear in your voice. There was a small sigh before your tone shifted to something somber. “I’m beginning to think Snake Tongue worked some hex onto me with his little tongue flick thing. Now I'm just cursed to have shitty sex.”

Jax picked up his coffee mug from the patio table again, bringing it towards his lips as he spoke. “Least none of the dumbasses you’ve picked up have mistaken your belly button for the hole they were looking for or somethin’.”

“Ahh, yes. The dual purpose of a woman’s belly button,” you replied sarcastically, the sound of your car’s blinker in the background. “Ugh, I’m pretty sure with my luck, I would find the one guy around here clueless enough to think it was just another hole to fuck.”

Shaking his head, the cup of coffee still hovered in front of his mouth. “Y'know, I'm supposed to be offering you sympathy,” he began, still grinning, “but you’re the one over here offerin’ me an entire comedy routine this morning, sweetheart.”

“Well, at least someone is enjoying my sex life,” you countered bitterly. “Because I sure as shit am not.”

There was another soft, defeated sigh that Jax picked up on as he took a drink from his mug. Swallowing the warm liquid down, he did actually find himself sympathizing with you. He remembered how you’d been hesitant at the idea of another hookup for the past few weeks, not wanting to wind up disappointed again after putting yourself out there. Yet here you were in the same situation you’d been hoping to avoid anyway. Placing his mug back on the patio table, he contemplated offering to assist you over the phone once more like he'd offered that time after Snake Tongue, but you’d begun speaking again before he could finish considering the idea.

“Help me out here then,” you pleaded. “If you’re trying to offer me some sympathy, do you have any shitty sexual encounters you can share with me? To make me feel less alone in my misery?”

“Shitty sexual encounters?” he repeated, his head tilting to the side as he ran a finger over the filter of his mostly-spent cigarette. “You mean like, have I had bad sex before?”

“Well,” you corrected, “more like have you been with girls that did weird shit? You got a horrible blow job story or something you’re willing to share?”

Jax sat back in his chair for a moment, a thoughtful hum vibrating in his throat as he thought. He'd definitely had some disappointing sex in his time–it was unavoidable with the amount of sex he'd had over the years. And considering almost all of the times that he’d had sex, him and the girls he’d been with were either tipsy or totally wasted, so he'd absolutely experienced some pretty unsatisfying partners and terrible blow jobs in the past. Some girls clearly had no idea what the fuck they were even doing, and there'd even been a few he could recall that had been far too overeager in their attempts to please him and had instead managed to do the opposite. But after a moment, one night in particular returned to the forefront of his mind and he knew it was the story you'd appreciate most. The guys had certainly been amused by it back then.

“Can't lie, I've had some bad sex and even worse blow jobs,” he admitted. “But…there was one girl who was the weirdest of them all.”

“Oh?” you asked, perking up in interest. “A weird girl, huh? Jax, my man, please elaborate on that. How was she weird? What’d she do?”

Jax took a final drag off of his cigarette, holding it in for a second before he eventually expelled the smoke between his lips. Leaning forward, he stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray tray on his patio table before glancing over his shoulder at the window on his back door. He noticed how quiet and still it was inside his house, meaning Abel was clearly still asleep and that he had time to sit here and continue enjoying this conversation with you.

“Alright, alright,” he conceded, preparing to share his story as he got comfortable in his chair again. “Think it was a few years ago that I met this girl at the clubhouse.”

“At one of your motorcycle club parties?” you asked curiously.

“Yeah,” Jax replied. Picking up his mug of coffee, he took another drink before lowering the cup to rest on his thigh. “We were flirting for a few minutes and she was hot, so obviously I brought her back to my room there.”

“Obviously,” you agreed.

A smile slipped onto his face as Jax looked down at the half-empty mug of coffee in his lap. As he heard you killing the engine of your car on the other end of the line, he couldn't help but appreciate just how easy it always was to talk to you. Even if he was talking about sleeping with some other girl. He was used to the girls at the clubhouse or Redwoody often vying for his attention and getting jealous if someone else had it. But here you were just intently listening to him tell you this story about him fucking someone else.

“Things were goin’ good,” Jax continued, the smile lingering on his lips. “But then we were in the middle of shit, y'know? And I'm just focused on what I'm doin’ until outta fuckin’ nowhere she just makes this…noise.”

The sound of shuffling over the phone followed his pause and Jax assumed you'd reached wherever you'd been driving–your apartment most likely. After a second, the shuffling stopped and your voice came through the call sounding as if you'd taken your phone off of speakerphone.

“You've got me in suspense here, Jax. A noise?” you questioned. “What kind of noise? Like she was moaning oddly? Crying? What?”

“No, darlin’,” Jax continued, recalling the weird encounter the more he thought about it. “Not moaning, this girl was full on bleating like a goddamn baby deer.”

“What?” 

Jax couldn't stop the laugh that spilled out of him at how stunned you'd sounded as just that one word flew so incredulously out of you. He had a feeling this story would make you feel better about your past two shitty hookups.

“She fuckin’ bleated,” he repeated. “Like a damn baby deer callin’ for its mom in the middle of me fuckin’ her.”

A laugh bubbled out of you next, loud and unrestrained. The sound of it had Jax laughing a little himself as he hooked a foot around the leg of another patio chair before drawing it over to himself. He kicked his bare feet up onto it and relaxed even further, taking another sip of coffee as he waited for your laughter to subside.

“Holy shit,” you breathed out, clearly trying to control your laughter. “So you fucked Bambi?”

Not expecting that, Jax practically spat his coffee back out, some of it dribbling out of his mouth and back into the mug as he snorted at your question. Because why wouldn't you have a damn name for the weird girl who bleated during sex already? 

“Christ, sweetheart,” he said, pausing to wipe his mouth off with the back of his hand. “Bambi? Really?”

“Well it obviously fits her,” you stated matter-of-factly.

Jax shook his head at you even though he knew you couldn't see him over the phone. In the background on your end, it sounded as if you'd opened a door, his ears catching the faintest sigh of relief from you. You must’ve gotten back to your apartment–whereever that was.

“But now you know I have to ask,” you continued. “Did you finish?”

Jax huffed in response to your question. How could you not know the answer to that already?

“Finish? With the girl who turned into a woodland creature during sex?” Jax asked you in complete disbelief. “Of course I didn't fuckin’ finish, sweetheart. Didn't matter how many beers deep I was that night, I'm not exactly into feeling like I'm in the middle of some National Geographic documentary while I’m trying to get off.”

“I had to ask,” you explained, fighting back a laugh. “I think guys can ignore quite a lot just to get laid.”

“Yeah, sure,” he agreed easily. “But I can't exactly ignore Bambi bleating for her mom when I'm balls deep,” Jax countered. “That shit kinda kills the mood.” 

A snort of laughter met the comment and Jax smirked at how cute it was, always proud of himself whenever he got you to laugh. Running a hand absently through his still sleep-mussed hair, he expelled a rough breath.

“That whole thing turned me off of sex for almost a week,” he confessed. “And if you knew me back then, you’d know that was sayin’ something.”

“So how'd you get out of the whole situation?” you asked curiously. 

Hand falling back to the coffee cup balanced on his lap, one of his fingers ran around the rim of the ceramic mug as a soft huff left him. “Just fucking stopped mid-thrust and gave her a look before I pulled outta her,” he told you. “Started puttin’ my clothes on before making up some fucking excuse. I couldn't stay hard with that shit, there was no way I was continuing.”

“Poor Bambi,” you muttered over the line. “Though…makes me wonder what would've happened if she'd reached orgasm.”

“Shit, I don't wanna know,” Jax replied, raising the mug back up to his mouth as he thought about that girl. “Probably woulda sprouted antlers and pranced outta my room after.”

Another quiet amused snort met his comment as he took a drink of his coffee. That had certainly been one of the weirdest and worst encounters he'd had with a woman. The guys had loved that story, though. The impression Tig did of the bleating still lived on in Jax’s memory.

“So,” he began, letting his head fall back against the metal backing of the patio chair. “That help you feel any better about your string of bad luck?”

“Weirdly enough, yes,” you answered him. “At least I'm not alone in having found weird partners. And I can’t say I’ve had a man bleat at me while he fucked me. So there’s that, I guess.”

At the sound of your frustrated exhale, Jax knew the answer to his question before he even asked it.

“But just like Snake Tongue, The Golfer left you with a problem to take care of, right?” 

“Yes,” you begrudgingly admitted. “Honestly, I should just stick with my vibrator at this point. At least it never disappoints me.”

“Y'know…” Jax began, pausing and chewing his bottom lip as he considered the offer that had resurfaced in his mind a bit ago. “I still got nothing against helping you out over the phone, darlin’. I do actually know how to please a woman.”

“Jax, dude,” you spoke lightly, a smile noticeable in the tone of your voice again. “I appreciate the offer, but with my luck? You'd probably start speaking in tongues the second you started. And besides, if I'm being honest? All I really want right now is a good dicking, which is apparently asking for too much, and impossible to get through a phone.”

Jax's eyes slowly closed as you rejected his offer for a second time, ignoring the tinge of disappointment that hit him at your polite refusal. But he couldn't exactly fault you for it, especially not with how your two previous sexual encounters had turned out. But hearing that trace of frustration in your voice over the phone only made him want to help you out that much more. He’d be lying if he said that he hadn’t tried imaging your voice doing more than just making jokes and laughing in the time since he’d first spoken to you.

“I get that,” he answered. “You want what you want, can’t blame you for that.”

Pausing, Jax sat in the chair as the sun warmed his bare chest, his eyes still closed as he contemplated finally asking you the question that had been on his mind for weeks. He’d typed it out in text a handful of times before erasing it each time, deciding against even trying to find out. He’d been afraid that the finality of your answer would crush him if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear.

But he found himself unable to refrain from asking any longer. 

“If you're alright with answering me, I've been wondering somethin’ for a while now,” Jax began, the words finally just falling out of him. “Don’t feel obligated to answer, but where exactly do you live, darlin’? Just outta curiosity.”

His question was met with silence over the line, something that hadn’t surprised him. He expected you to draw the line at telling him that–he was still ultimately a stranger to you, and he had confessed that he was in a motorcycle club the other week. Wanting to keep your location private wouldn’t have come as a shock.

“Well, I wasn't expecting that abrupt shift in topic,” you told him. “But I live in California. What about you?”

Jax's eyes snapped open at your answer. California? You lived in the same state? He'd spent weeks trying to convince himself that the likelihood of you living anywhere nearby was slim, but now that he’d heard you lived in the same damn state as him, he felt that flicker of hope returning. 

“I’m in Northern California,” he answered. 

“No shit?” you asked in surprise. “Same here.”

Pushing himself more upright in the metal patio chair, Jax lowered his feet back to the cement patio before leaning over and setting his almost empty mug of coffee back down onto the table. If both of you lived in Northern California, what were the odds that you lived somewhere close enough for the two of you to possibly meet? Assuming you’d even be open to that.

“No bullshit, sweetheart. I'm out in Charming,” he informed you.

“Okay, I'll admit, I don't really know where that is,” you said slowly. “But I'm in Sacramento.”

Jax’s hand tightened around the phone he’d been holding to his ear for the past twenty minutes that he’d been on it with you. Sacramento was a little over forty miles from Charming. Not even a full hour away from his small hometown. You were literally within his reach, not all the way in fucking Florida like he’d been trying to convince himself this whole time.

“Sacramento?” he repeated. “That’s–that’s not even an hour away from Charming. You live a hell of a lot closer than I thought.”

“Small ass world,” you murmured over the line, still sounding just as surprised.

Jax’s mind began to race as he sat in his chair, one hand running back and forth across his jaw, his facial hair scratching the pads of his fingers. There really was no other way for him to ask you what he was now tempted to, he’d just have to outright ask it. And he knew that if he didn’t, he’d kick himself for it later. You both got along so damn well, he’d never enjoyed just talking to a girl before he’d accidentally met you. He knew he had to at least see what your answer would be, even if it was another polite rejection.

“Knowing that you live so close has me thinkin’ something,” he confessed, his voice dropping lower as he continued. “That maybe, if you were up for it, you could come out to Charming sometime. To one of the clubhouse parties. We could meet in person. Hangout. Drink.” His tongue slipped out just at the thought of what he already wanted to do as it ran over the length of his bottom lip, the corner of it curling into a smirk. “And maybe if we get along as well in person, I could…break that bad luck streak of yours, darlin’.”

Another long pause met his suggestion. Jax sat there, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he waited for you to respond with something, either to yell at him like he was insane or to accept the offer. Even though he was aware of just how ridiculously crazy the suggestion sounded. Eventually, he caught the long exhale of breath from your end of the phone and one of his brows curiously arched up as he waited in suspense.

“You…want me to come out to Charming?” you asked hesitantly. “To hangout and drink and possibly fuck you?” There was a soft laugh before you continued. “Did I just hear that right?”

A chuckle rumbled out of him. Yeah, he supposed he’d quite literally just asked you to come out to his town and drink with him, and if you both found each other attractive, to let him fuck you. 

“Yeah,” he answered boldly, not denying it. “You heard me right. Come hangout with me sometime. See if we have as much fun in person. And if we’re both feeling it, I’ll break your little curse. Leave you so satisfied your smartass won’t be able to make a nickname for me afterwards.”

He grinned at the sound of your laugh, a warmth unrelated to the sunshine spreading through his chest. He found himself still gripping the phone tight in his hand, desperately hoping you’d say yes to the offer. Even if he wasn’t attracted to you in person, or somehow you weren’t attracted to him, he had a feeling throwing back some drinks with you would still be a worthwhile way to spend an evening. 

“You know what?” you told him. “I’ll think about it. I just want to make sure that this isn’t how I end up on a missing person’s poster, alright?”

“Understandable, I am still some guy you don’t know that well,” he agreed. “No hard feelings on that. But I can promise you I ain’t gonna hurt you, for what it’s worth. Not gonna force you to do anything you don’t wanna. It’s just…been fun as hell talkin’ to you these past couple of weeks.”

“I’ll think about it,” you promised him. “It’s not like you’ve been talking to me these past few weeks trying to get personal information out of me like my social security or something. And you didn’t know where I lived until a minute ago. So…I suppose you don’t seem to have any ill intentions.” You hesitated a moment before continuing to explain yourself–not that you needed to, he understood your position. “But I am still a girl you’re asking to come out to some motorcycle club about an hour from my place to meet you, and I know I’ve done some wild shit before, but that might take the prize for potentially the most stupid.”

“Yeah, I get it,” he replied. “And I’m not gonna sit here and try to talk you into coming out. Just know the offer is there, alright? But I absolutely mean it when I say you’d be safe here, darlin’. Nothin’ would happen to you, you have my word. For whatever that’s worth to you.”

There was another long pause where Jax sat completely still in his chair, feeling like he wasn’t even breathing as he waited to hear what you’d say to that. He was surprised at how badly he found himself wanting you to say yes to the idea.

“How about this,” you began, speaking slowly, “you let me know when there’s some big party coming up next, and I’ll give you an answer then? That gives me some time to think about it first.”

A triumphant smile spread across his face as he settled back into his seat. That wasn’t an outright no, at least. There was still a possibility that you’d say yes whenever there was a party. A chance where he could meet you in person and actually properly meet the woman he couldn’t get out of his fucking head lately.

“Sounds good to me, sweetheart,” he answered. “I’ll shoot you a text when there’s another party coming up, alright?”

“Okay,” you agreed. “But for now, I think it’s time I go resolve the issue that The Golfer left me with so that I can get on with the rest of my day.”

“Yeah, you go do that.” Jax bit his lip, fighting back more of those inappropriate thoughts he’d been having about you. “Maybe I’ll see you sometime then.”

“Maybe,” you replied. “Later, Jax.”

He said his goodbye before ending the call, tossing his phone onto the patio table beside his almost empty cup of coffee. Eyes still lingering on the device, a small smile remained on his lips. You were out there somewhere less than an hour away in Sacramento right now, probably about to go look for your vibrator to get yourself off. But maybe, just maybe, he might be the one getting you to fall apart for him in his own bed soon. 

He just needed you to come out to Charming.

[persephone411]

Imagine Jax Teller breaking your bed

It starts rough ,like it always does with Jax when he’s had a long day at the clubhouse. His rings are on your nightstand, his kutte draped over the chair, and all that pent-up frustration is being worked out through his hands gripping your thighs, your hips, the sheets.

You moan something incoherent in return, breathless, lost in the weight of him pressing you into the mattress, his rhythm getting deeper and harder as he chases release like it’s a high. His hand slips under your lower back to arch you up just right, and that’s when it happens.

CRACK.

The whole bed jerks violently under you, the wooden slats beneath snapping like dry twigs. Jax freezes mid-thrust. You both go tumbling with a loud thud, the mattress dipping awkwardly, half-collapsing under his weight.

“…Shit.”

You blink confused up at him, still beneath his heavy, tattooed body, his blonde hair falling in his face, sweat dripping from his brow. There’s a long pause. Then:

He laughs.

Loud, genuine, unfiltered laughter. The kind that rumbles in his chest as he buries his face in your neck, his muscular shoulders shaking.

“You broke my bed,” you say, trying not to giggle yourself.

“Nah,” he murmurs, lips brushing your skin. “We broke your bed. Proud of that, actually.”

Jax shifts slightly, and the mattress lets out another pained creak. You both freeze, then burst out laughing again.

“Guess I owe you a new frame.”

“And a floor session tonight?”

He lifts his head, eyes dark and mischievous.

“Baby, I’ll fuck you on the floor, the wall, the damn roof if you let me. But we’re not done yet.”

So that night ends with you both on the floor, tangled in a blanket, your legs over his shoulders, the busted bed looming beside you like a badge of honor. And the next morning? He’s bragging about it at the clubhouse.

[puffins-muffins]

hehehehehe 🤭 sorry, not sorry about that 😈

thank you so much for the read and reblog!! I’m glad you enjoyed this one! 💖🫶🏻

Between Us

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female!Reader Word Count: 1600 Summary: You spend the evening whispering filth in Jax’s ear. So when he tells you to prove it... you do, right there in the bar bathroom. Warnings: SMUT! 18+ only please, minors DNI!! oral sex (m receiving), semi-public setting, possessive behavior, dirty talk, praise, light vaginal fingering A/N: All feedback (comments, reblogs, likes) is very much appreciated!! 🩷 Enjoy lovers!!

Charming didn’t have many places that could be called “nice.” But tonight, neither of you wanted nice.

Jax only wanted you. He wanted the way you looked at him like he was everything dangerous and worth it. The way you leaned in close and whispered filthy thoughts in his ear like they were secrets meant just for him, knowing damn well it wasn’t the first time you’d sucked the air out of his lungs.

You were his good girl with a sinful mouth and absolutely no shame when it came to wanting him, saying things that had his cock hard well before you even got through your first drinks.

Tonight you looked like temptation in a little black sundress dotted with tiny white flowers. It clung in all the right places, hugging the curve of your waist, dipping low at your chest, and swishing sweetly around your thighs. The fabric was light and easy to move in, but Jax couldn’t stop staring at the way it framed your body, the way your tits rose and fell when you laughed, how your ass bounced with every step, round and perfect beneath the hem that kept riding up just enough to drive him mad.

The dive bar off 12th was dim and reeked of spilled whiskey and stale smoke. You were tucked into Jax’s side, his arm heavy across your lower back as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your dress, trailing up and down your exposed thigh.

You smiled at him like you were proud of yourself, because you were. Your fingertips dragging slowly over the tattoo on his forearm, a light, teasing touch that made his muscles twitch beneath your nails.

You leaned in close again, pretending to reach for your drink, but your lips brushed his ear instead.

“You know I’ve been thinking about your ink all night,” you purred. “Just wondering what it’d feel like to run my tongue over every single one… nice and slow.”

His laugh came out low, more breath than sound as his fingers inched higher up your thigh, dragging the hem of your dress with them. You felt the shift in him at your words, like flipping a switch without even trying.

“Yeah?” he rasped, the words barely catching on his breath.

You nodded, your lips brushing the edge of his stubbled jaw as you leaned in. “Especially the one you keep covered. The one no one else gets to see.”

That did it.

His hand stilled on your thigh, fingers tightening just a little. His defined jaw shifted, a small clench, and he didn’t speak right away. Just stared at you, eyebrows raised, lips slightly parted, his breath measured like he was trying to keep it together.

You could feel the heat coming off him now, radiating through the space between you, clinging to your skin, thick and pulsing. His thumb moved absent-mindedly, dragging along the inside of your thigh as if he didn’t even realize he was doing it.

When he finally spoke, his voice was a low challenge, “Prove it, darlin’.”

The bathroom door slammed behind you both.

The second it clicked shut, he was on you, his mouth crashing into yours, hot and demanding, tongue parting your lips, sliding deep like he needed to taste every filthy word you’d whispered in his ear all night. His golden stubble scraped against your soft, plush lips, leaving a burn that only made you want more. You could feel the heat of his breath, the press of his mouth moving hard against yours.

One big palm cradled the back of your neck, holding you in place as his lips devoured yours. His other hand was already at the hem of your sundress, bunching it up over your hips with urgency, exposing everything he already knew wasn’t there. His fingers brushed your bare skin and he groaned into your mouth.

“Jesus fuck,” he muttered, taking a step back just to look at you. “This body. This ass. You really came out lookin’ like this… for me?”

You smirked through your own breathy moan, your body aching for more of him.

Jax grinned against your skin, teeth scraping lightly along your throat. “Fuckin’ naughty,” he muttered, like it turned him on more than he could stand. His hand slid between your parted thighs, fingers dragging through your slick. “So wet already… walkin’ around just beggin’ for it.”

You whimpered, grinding down on his touch, but he held you there, teasing, controlling.

“Bad girl,” he rasped. “That’s what you are.”

“Yours," you declared, hips tilting into his touch while his fingertips danced across your clit.

His grip tightened on your bare ass, voice thick with need, his teeth nipping at your ear. “Yeah. Just how I like you.”

You dropped to your knees before he even had to ask, fingers working his belt with practiced ease. His cock sprang free, hard and flushed, the tip already wet and glistening with precum, and the sight of it made your mouth water.

Jax braced one hand on the wall behind you, the other curling into your hair - he was trying to keep it together, but the second your breath hit the sensitive head, he swore under it.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

Your eyes lifted, lashes fluttering just slightly, the faintest smirk tugging at the corner of your lips, knowing exactly what you were about to do to him.

He was fucked the moment your lips parted.

You started slow, leaning in to taste his precum, then swirling the head, letting it sit on your tongue before slipping your lips around him with a soft, wet suck. Just his tip at first while your hand wrapped around the base to stroke in time with your mouth.

He looked down at you like you were everything he craved, yours were the only eyes he ever let see him like this; wild and unrestrained.

Your throat tightened as you sank lower, your lips brushing the base, jaw relaxed and full of him, using enough suction to make him fight the urge to thrust.

Jax watched everything. The way your lips stretched around him, how your cheeks hollowed when you sucked him deeper. The naughty little glint in your eyes that told him you wanted to ruin him, that you enjoyed it. Craved it, even.

No one had ever worshipped his cock with this kind of confidence. This filthy, practiced rhythm that felt like it was designed just for him.

His eyes never left yours. Blue, dark, and possessive.

Fucking proud.

“That’s right,” Jax groaned, voice breaking. “Goddamn… look at you.”

Eyes wide, full of him, your mouth stretched and glistening, spit trailing from the corner of your lips as you worked him with eager devotion. You bobbed your head in a smooth rhythm, tongue swirling, jaw relaxing to take him deeper with each pass.

You moaned around him, the sound vibrating through his cock, and it nearly buckled his knees. You let him slip deep into your throat, gagging just enough to make your eyes water, pulling back with a wet pop and a gasp just so you could start again.

Your hand stroked what your mouth couldn’t take, fingers slick with spit, working in perfect sync with your lips. You swirled your tongue under the head every time you came up, then took him back down, sloppier and wetter until he couldn’t fucking hold back.

Jax was staring down at you, jaw clenched, heart pounding, sweat beading at his temple.

Your hands gripped his thighs, fingers digging in as you moaned around him, sending another vibration through his cock that made him hiss above you and throw his head back.

He was unraveling, right there in a dive bar bathroom, pants around his thighs, with you on your knees like you lived for this.

“Fuuuck babe,” he growled, voice wrecked. “Keep doin’ that, I’m gonna fuckin' come.”

You didn’t stop, only sucking him harder and slower, wanting nothing more than to drag it out of him. But that only made him snap.

He came hard, groaning your name through clenched teeth as he spilled into your mouth. You took it all, swallowing him down like it was nothing. Your tongue flicked against the tip as he pulsed in your mouth, sucking every last drop, your eyes still locked on his like you owned him.

And in that moment, you fucking did.

You collected every bit of him before swiping the corners of your mouth with your thumb, that same thumb slipping between your lips as you sucked it clean, a wicked little smirk curving across your still-swollen mouth.

Jax just stood there, completely fucking spent, watching you like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Like no one had ever looked so goddamn beautiful on their knees in front of him, your perfect swollen lips, eyes gleaming, still tasting him.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, head falling back for a moment as his chest rose and fell like he’d just been knocked breathless.

He tucked himself back in quickly, then reached down to steady you with both hands as you pushed up from the floor.

You licked your lips one last time, slow and teasing, letting out a soft, satisfied “mmm” like you’d just finished dessert, smirking as you looked up at him, entirely too pleased with yourself.

“Told you I was good with my mouth, Jax.”

[rideandruin]

no one’s old lady

you say you a gangsta, that don’t impress me none

pairings: jax teller x bi!outlaw!reader (no specific descriptions of reader)

warnings: crime, eventual smut, outlaw shit

summary: jax was never scared of women. until he met the one who didn’t flinch at blood or business. she’s the daughter of a former samcro president — born into the club but never allowed inside. not because she wasn’t loyal. because she wasn’t a man. now she moves product on her own terms. guns, cash, clean ups, disappearances. not anyone’s old lady. not looking for permission.

she runs parallel to the table, never beneath it. and jax?

he can’t stop watching. can’t stop wondering how a woman like her exists — someone just as lethal, just as loyal, and just as fucked up as him.

a/n: yessss. imagine the power play. dividers by: @cafekitsune

teaser

[reigningqueenofwords]

Date Night

Pairing: Jax x Reader

Part 7 of Always Been You

Read on AO3

The morning after the dinner party, you had class. So you got ready and made your way to the kitchen to get breakfast. There was a note taped to the coffee maker (which was all set up for you). 

I know you get home from school at 4 today and don’t work this evening. Get dressed in something cute, I’ll pick you up at 5 for dinner. It’s a date. 

Jax

 You stared at the paper in your hand. A date?! While he had asked you out weeks ago, you were still surprised. Chewing on your lip, you set the note down and went about your morning. What would you wear? You assumed that he’d be on his bike, as usual, so a dress was out of the question. Now that would be on your mind all day long. How the hell would you focus? Poorly, that’s how. 

Hearing Jax’s bike at 4:55, you took a deep breath. You were in a pair of jeans that Gemma had given you (you remembered him liking how they looked), and a cute top. Grabbing your purse from your bed, you made your way downstairs. You found Jax standing right inside the door with the most beautiful bouquet of flowers he’d gotten you to date. “You look nice, darlin’. Surprised you’re wearing jeans, though. Pictured you for a dress kinda girl for dates.” He chuckled as he handed you the flowers. 

“I would have been, but I felt this was better for the back of your bike.” You blushed. Taking the flowers, you smiled and went to put them in a vase. 

“Go change. We can take your car.” He really wanted to see you a little dolled up. He could see you in jeans any day, and some days tiny shorts and shirts of his you’d stolen to make into tank tops (he would never argue about that). He followed you to the kitchen and watched you get the flowers set up as he leaned on the counter. 

You glanced at him. “Are you sure? Do we have time?” You didn’t know what he had planned, after all. 

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Of course we have time. You could take an hour and I still wouldn’t be bothered.” 

“I promise I won’t take an hour.” You chuckled. “Alright, I’ll be right back.” Setting your purse on the counter next to the flowers, you rushed back up to your room. 

Jax grinned at how excited you seemed to be to change into a dress. He crossed his fingers that this date went well. If it didn’t, he was worried that you would want to move out. Your house wasn’t livable, and he figured it would likely need to be demolished. Would you one day be able to afford to rebuild? Or would you sell the land? He didn’t know your plans for the long run, and he’d need to ask. 

Hearing the clicking of heels, he looked over to see you coming back into the kitchen, looking a bit bashful. “This okay?” You were in a simple sundress, a cardigan, and sandal heels. 

“You look beautiful.” He complimented, handing you your purse. “I was hoping we could go to dinner, and then maybe a movie or something?” 

You walked with him towards the front door, the butterflies in your stomach going crazy. “I’d like that.” You agreed. “I was surprised to find that note this morning.” Getting that out of the way first was probably a good idea. 

“Well, I did ask you out weeks ago.” He chuckled, opening the car door for you. “And then you tried that damn dating app. I would have asked you back out once you told me you deleted it, but you were stressed with going back to school. Then the fire happened. I wanted to let you heal and get used to staying with me.” He went on, watching you get into the car. 

You nodded, but waited until he got in the driver’s seat to say anything. “I appreciate that.” You smiled over at him as he pulled out of the drive way. “I already know you’ll be a better date than the guys I saw from that app.” Scrunching your face, you chuckled. 

Jax smirked at that. “Damn right I will be.”

“And it means a lot to me that you’ve let me stay with you for now.” While you did your best to be a good houseguest, it couldn’t hurt to let him know you were thankful. “Once I’m done dealing with my home owners insurance I need to figure out what I’m doing with the remains of my house and all that.” You’d gotten very used to seeing Jax every day, but you knew that time wasn’t forever. 

“Do you plan to rebuild, or just move?” He asked, hoping it was the first one. He didn’t want you to leave the area. Hell, he didn’t want you to leave his house. If anything, the only moving he wanted you to do? Was out of his guest room, and into his room. 

You thought for a moment. “I don’t think I could afford a rebuild.” You said sadly. “That was my childhood home, too. It’s just…gone.” The culprit? A faulty wire! “I’ll probably just find an apartment. Something between school and work.” 

He tried to act casual. “Or you could just keep staying with me.” He pointed out. “If it would make you feel better to pay rent you can, but I don’t need it. You already buy most of our food, and I could probably eat off any surface in the house now.” Although what he’d like to eat off any of those surfaces wasn’t food. That thought made him shift slightly in his seat. He willed himself to think of anything else. “And I get to see Bonnie every day.” He added playfully. 

“I don’t want to overstay my welcome.” That was the last thing that you wanted. And what if this date didn’t work out, and he wanted to bring someone home? That would be very awkward, and you doubted any woman would be okay with going to his house to see you. “If you want me out, can you promise you tell me?” 

“I promise that will never happen.” 

Sighing, you didn’t push. That wasn’t the way to start a date. “So, where did you want to go eat?” You asked, changing the subject. There was no use dwelling on possibilities. 

Laughing, you walked back to the car with Jax. “I’m serious. Do you not remember?” You teased him. “At my fifth birthday you stole my tiara, but when I pouted you felt bad and gave it back. But when you went home I let you have it.” 

He shook his head. “I really don’t.” He laughed, taking your hand in his. “Did I look good wearing it?” He smirked. 

“You looked adorable . I wish cell phones had been a thing. Gemma would have totally gotten a picture!” Your smile faded a bit when you thought about how all your childhood pictures were gone. Any pictures you had of your late parents were devoured in that fire. 

“Hey, what’s wrong?” The shift in mood was obvious. 

“Just…all my pictures are gone. Family photos, birthdays, Christmases, all of them.” There was a sadness in your voice, which he understood. “I think that’s what will always hurt. My grandparents are gone, my parents are gone, I didn’t have any aunts or uncles. So it’s not like I can contact family and get copies. There are none.”

Jax gave your hand a small squeeze. Would Gemma have any random pictures from back then that he didn’t know about? He would have to ask. “I’m sorry.” 

Shaking your head, you smiled up at him. “It’s okay. Me and Bonnie are okay.” That was what you should have been focusing on. “If I didn’t have a long day that day? Bonnie would have been home with me and gotten hurt or worse. If you hadn’t been on a run, and Clay didn’t need to get to your house, I wouldn’t be here. So many things had to line up for us to be okay.” It felt like everything lined up for you and Bonnie to survive that night. 

“I was terrified when Gemma called me.” He gave your hand a small squeeze. “She told me to get home, and why. It felt like I’d been punched in the stomach.” That was a feeling he never wanted to have again. 

“I would have felt the same way if the roles were reversed.” You told him softly. 

He smirked at that. “Good thing I’m too stubborn for anything to happen to me.” He joked, wanting to lighten the mood. Tugging you a bit closer, he used his free hand to brush over your cheek. “Can I kiss you?” 

“I’d really like that.” You agreed. Closing your eyes, you gasped softly as his lips met yours. His hand left yours so that both were cupping your jaw. You moved your hands to his waist, gripping his shirt. It was hard to believe that you were standing in the middle of the side walk…kissing Jax Teller .

Tagging: @uknowmesstuff

[livfastdieyoung69]

(jax teller and the situationship he keeps crawling back to);*!

[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.

[etclouie-rambles]

chat when did this hit 1000 notes???

“huh, you like that darlin’?”

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — summary; fucking your boyfriend when another member of samcro walks in, but you both find something out about you in that moment (Jax Teller x fem!reader)

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — warnings; smut with little plot, minors do not interact!!!, poorly written smut, unprotected sex, soft sex, p in v, creampie, established relationship, chibs walks in on them(he does knock they just don’t hear it), readers described as drunk the night before(is this a warning??), jax teases reader about chibs walking in, lmk if i missed any !

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — word count; 939

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — a/n; yeah, uhm anyways (thinking of early seasons jax)

soa masterlist | main masterlist like jax? join my taglist !

you’d spent the night at the clubhouse with Jax, having drunk a little too much for Jax to have taken you home on his bike. 

you’d woken up alone in his bed and hearing the shower in the next room. eyeing him when he walked back into the room, and his towel wrapped lowly on his hips. 

knowing the look you were giving him had a chuckle spilling from his lips, leading to now. 

he had you sprawled out on your back, arms bracing himself on the pillows around your head, hips rocking against yours at a steady pace.

his voice soft and small, gentle coos leaving his lips. mumbled ‘i knows’ into your ear, while your legs wrapped around his waist and feet locked at the small of his back. arms loosely wrapped around his neck, and fingers tangled in his hair. 

this was more intimate than sex ever normally was between you, it was softer and a lot more gentle. 

tilting your head to capture his lips in a kiss and humming as he deepened it, his tongue pushing past your lips and meddling with yours. 

each thrust of his hips had more moans falling from your lips, breaking the kiss and laying back against the one lone pillow on the bed. your eyes flicking across his face and admiring him, reaching a hand up to cradle his jaw while your thumb soothed across his cheek. 

giggling softly as he tilted his head to press a kiss to your palm before leaning down to capture your lips again, both of you lost in the moment and missing the knock at the door. 

Jax’s thrusts continued at a steady past, coaxing soft moans from your lips. dropping his head to the crook of your neck again and peppering kisses across the skin, back arching up into him. 

with no response from Jax the door opened cautiously, and a familiar Scottish accent sounded in surprise and slight disgust. 

“jesus christ Jackie”

feeling your face heat at the sudden intrusion and hiding your face in your hands, feeling Jax pull away from your neck and glance back at Chibs. 

glancing up cautiously at Jax as he pulled the blankets up to cover your body, remaining inside you as he spoke, his tone laced in faint irritation and your walls fluttering around him causing a muffled groan to bubble in his throat. 

“this is on you brother”

his eyes locked with Chibs’ before nodding towards the door in a silent ask to leave, hearing the Scotsman chuckle before leaving; the door slamming behind him while Jax’s attention turned back to you. 

“sorry bout that, darlin’”

his hands pulling yours further away from your face, and loosely wrapping your arms around his neck once more. feeling the pillows dip on either side of your head while he braced himself again, the slow drag of his hips starting again. 

“felt you clench down on me, hm sweetheart?”

despite the softness of the moment, even if momentarily disrupted, Jax’s tone held a little teasing to it once again. thrusts continuing and low mewls falling from your lips, eyes hooded and keeping hold of his gaze. 

“huh, you like that darlin’? you like the thrill of getting caught like this?”

words escaping you, and a lewd moan coming out in response. eyes fluttering shut as he leaned down to capture your lips again, his blond locks toppling into your face. 

the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room again as he chased both of your climaxes, forehead resting against yours and arms crossing above your head. 

his body blanketing yours and moving impossibly closer to you, peaking up at him to find his gaze already on you. 

“you gonna cum f’me sweetheart? or you want Chibs back in here?”

choking back a whine at his proposition, walls fluttering around him again as the words reeled in your head. 

mind feeling fuzzy and body flooding with heat, the familiar pool of warmth settling in the pit of your belly as his thumb pressed to your clit. 

“fuck, that turn you on? shit- cum f’me sweetheart, that’s it”

the words came out in a groan, his head dropping to your shoulder and his thrusts faltering. lips pressing soft kisses across your sweat dampened skin, and his soft coos flooded your ear. thumb pressing tighter circles to your clit and pushing you over the edge, the coil in your belly snapping as you came with a cry of his name. 

arms tightening around his neck and pulling him down impossibly closer, moaning into his ear while your cheeks pressed together. moans turning into whines, and whines turning into incoherent babbles as his thrusts continued; once met with precision now left sloppy as he chased his high. 

“fuck, that’s my girl. such a good girl f’me darlin’”

the possessive tone in his words had another lewd moan tumbling past your lips, nails scratching across his back and into the sons tattoo. 

a barely coherent cry of his name was his undoing, hips stuttering before stilling completely against you. a jagged rock of his hips and a guttural moan past his lips signified his climax, his cock throbbing in your warmth and his release shooting into you. 

the constant flutter of your walls around him had him spilling every drop, the tightness surrounding him milking him for all he had. 

staying connected and limbs intertwined, his breathing heavy against your shoulder as he slowly started to come down from his high. lifting his head enough to meet your gaze before grumbling out to you. 

“my little exhibitionist, hm?“

requests are open here !

[marvelobsessed134]

Should I write a Jax fic inspired by Lana’s Ride MV?

[fbfh]

No thoughts head empty Jax Teller fucking you pronebone in a headlock. Loving up on you when you have an attitude. He knows you're acting up because you need some extra special loving from your man, and now he's pounding into you slow and steady, arm around your face and the other holding your hips right how he wants em. He smells like motor oil and cigarettes and old musty wooden furniture and some other things you can't even think of. His stubble tickles your ear when he nuzzles into you and he does it again just to make you squirm more.

"Yeahhhh, there we go baby.... this what you needed, angel? Just needed some good dick? A nice deep poundin'? Need your old man to fuck the attitude outta ya, didn'tcha? Mmmnnng... fuckin' thought so..."

[bellaxgiornata]

Take Me to Where Your Heart Is Chapter One

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!biker!Reader Word Count: 3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Fic Masterlist]

warnings/tags: 18+; bisexual!Reader, canon-typical violence, canon-divergence, sexual content/smut, angst, MC president!Reader, Tara drama 

After the Insurgents MC unanimously vote in a deal with the IRA to help distribute their guns east, your club ends up in a partnership with SAMCRO. You're prepared to deal with their inevitable lack of faith in your leadership as a female and the backlash of a potential turf war with the Hellspawn Outlaws. But you're not prepared for your new partner to stir up things you've never let yourself feel before, or for how much you care when his ex returns to Charming.

a/n: This is going to be a drama-filled fic where Jax meets a woman who is quite literally his equal in so many ways. There's a bit more info on Reader in the Series Masterlist, but otherwise, I always strive to keep things as inclusive and physically description-less as possible so everyone can hopefully enjoy. Feedback is always appreciated!

series tag list: @kmc1989 @secretlysamcro @thedreadandthefugitivemind @the-jer-bear @tendertulip @latinakitty17

With a finger running along the rim of his glass of whiskey, Jax’s mind spun with a hundred different thoughts while he sat at the bar. Just outside of the clubhouse, the sound of McCormick’s SUV beginning to pull out of the Sons’ compound rumbled over the growing silence left lingering in the stateside Irish delegate's wake. 

All of the Sons sat scattered around the main room of the clubhouse, but not a single one of them had commented on the news that McCormick had just dropped on them. One look at all of the solemn expressions in the room told Jax everything he needed to know–this was big. It was serious. 

Shit was changing.

The Irish wanted an expansion. McCormick had made a surprise visit out to Charming just to inform the Sons that the Irish Kings were pushing their guns out further east after picking up buyers in the mafia near Chicago. But the Sons’ reach and current partnerships clearly didn't extend quite that far, an issue that the Irish had already been working through on their end. Without a word of warning, they'd taken it upon themselves to stake out an additional business partnership, not bothering to obtain the Sons’ input or approval–something that pissed off Jax. But there wasn't a single fucking thing he could do about it, the deal had been made and set.

The Irish had apparently decided to bring a nearby outlaw motorcycle club into the decades-long arrangement behind the Sons’ backs. They'd chosen to recruit the Insurgents MC. All Jax knew about them was that they were an expansive club, an MC which was larger than the Sons of Anarchy themselves, whose territory and charters expanded out east and towards Chicago where the Irish had made new ties with the Italians. 

Neither Jax or any of the other Sons had ever worked with or had contact with the Insurgents. But Jax was aware that the mother charter's location was in a small town closer to Reno, Nevada–about two hours away from the Sons in Charming. While the Sons had never had beef with their club, they'd also never had a reason to do business with them, either. Which meant Jax knew next to nothing about their new business partners.

Expelling a rough breath at a table near the bar, the sound drew Jax’s eye over to where Bobby sat with an unhappy Happy. One of Bobby’s large hands combed through his dark beard as he finally turned his attention over to where Jax was sitting. That grim expression remained on his face when their eyes met.

“This is gonna cause some serious problems,” he warned Jax, finally breaking the lingering silence. “The Irish are asking us to distribute right through Hellspawn territory. That's gonna bring heat down on the Insurgents and us by association, Jax. You realize that, right?”

Jax's jaw tightened at Bobby’s words, his hand leaving his glass, his fingers instead beginning to absently run back and forth along his mouth as his mind continued to jump from one potential problem straight to the next. He already had a feeling that this new expansion wasn't just about finding a way to run the guns out east, but about giving this new MC the Irish had forced on the Sons the backup they'd need to handle the potential fallout of this Irish and Italian deal. This wasn't going to be some easy new cash flow in exchange for just a bit more work, it was going to be dangerous. There would be repercussions. 

“This is gonna stir up some shit,” Chibs agreed, looking farther down from where he sat at the bar to Jax. “Smells like the start of a gang war. Hellspawn aren’t a small-time club, Jackie boy.”

A curse fell sharply out of Jax’s mouth, the hand running over his lips as he'd been thinking roughly coming down hard onto the bar with a loud smack. The amber liquor in his glass shifted at the impact as Jax grit his teeth again.

“So they're gonna be out for blood,” Jax spat. “And we don't even know if this other MC the damn Irish got us partnered with is gonna be any fuckin’ use to us in a war like this against the Hellspawns. And there ain’t shit we can do about it.”

Tig's foot came out in his aggravated pacing, frustratedly kicking the toe of his boot at the leg of a chair. The chair jolted onto its back legs at the impact before toppling over with a loud clatter that echoed through the palpable tension in the room. With a grunt from behind Jax, Opie pulled a cigarette out from the pack inside of his kutte and lit it, taking a deep drag as the scowl remained on his face. The weight of what was happening–which was entirely out of all of their damn hands–hung heavy over the men.

“T.O. has done business with them before,” Bobby said slowly. His eyes narrowed somewhat in contemplation as he stared down at the beer bottle on the table in front of him. “I remember him mentioning the Insurgents a few months back.” Shifting his focus, his attention landed back on Jax. “You should call him. See what he knows about this club. It'd at least give us some intel on who the hell we’re gonna be workin’ with.”

Sighing in frustration, Jax knew Bobby had a point. They shouldn’t be walking into this whole arrangement entirely blind and ignorant of their new alliance. Reaching a hand into the pocket inside of his kutte, Jax pulled out his cell phone. Quietly scrolling through his list of contacts as the weight of the Sons’ eyes fell on him, Jax searched for the number of the Grim Bastard's president. Once he found it, he pushed the button and dialed T.O. before placing the call on speakerphone. Jax set his phone down onto the bar while it rang, the noise cutting through the heavy silence of the clubhouse. It took a few rings before T.O. finally answered.

“Jax, brother, ‘sup?” T.O.’s deep voice greeted over the line. “Somethin’ going on?”

“Nah, man, everything’s good,” Jax replied, not wanting to bring the Sons’ bullshit to the Grim Bastards. They didn't need the details. “Just found ourselves in a new business arrangement against our will, if you feel me.” He paused, one ringed hand running over his slicked back hair as he stared at the phone on the bar in front of him. “Bobby mentioned you guys worked with the Insurgents in the past. That true?”

“Yeah,” T.O. easily answered. “Had a few deals with ‘em for a bit. Only worked with the mother charter out near Sierra Heights, though. Never met any of the others.”

“What do you know about them?” Jax asked curiously. He rested his elbows along the bar counter, leaning over it as he listened carefully to T.O. “They good guys to work with?”

An amused, rumbling chuckle met Jax’s question almost immediately. Jax’s eyes narrowed at the unexpected reaction, his gaze shifting over to Opie still standing nearby. He raised a silent, questioning brow at his vice president, but Opie only shrugged and shook his head in response before taking another drag on his cigarette. Pressing his lips together in annoyance, Jax focused back down on the phone.

“What?” Jax asked, trying to push back his irritation. “They that bad to work with or somethin’, man?”

“No, no,” T.O. answered quickly, still chuckling over the line. “Definitely nothin’ like that. They're all good, Jax. Loyal as hell and incredibly capable. It's just…they're not all good guys. Y'know?”

Jax's eyebrows briefly tugged together at that. The fuck was that supposed to mean? He'd said it like Jax should have known what he was getting at, which was only beginning to irritate him further after McCormick's visit.

“So what, there's one piece of shit running with ‘em or somethin’?” Jax pressed. “That what you're sayin’?”

“No, I'm sayin’ their MC isn't all men,” T.O. explained, clearly amused at Jax’s ignorance. “They got a female president, man. You really never heard ‘bout her before?”

Jax straightened in his seat at the information, his brows knitting tightly together as he tried to process what he’d just heard. There was a fucking girl running an outlaw MC? And the goddamn Irish were stupid enough to bring them into their partnership? Were they trying to kill both clubs and their deal with this dumbass bullshit all at once?

Looking away from his phone, Jax's eyes ran over each of the Sons. Everyone met his gaze with a similar mixture of confusion, concern, and disbelief. At the far end of the bar, Jax noticed Juice grab his laptop and flip it open, his fingers flying across the keyboard now. No doubt he was trying to see what he could pull up on the Insurgents after that.

“Never heard of some little girl running a club before, no,” Jax replied bitterly, focusing back on the phone call. 

T.O. huffed out a breath over his end of the line. “Jax, brother, I don't recommend disrespectin’ her, or talkin’ down to her just because she's a woman,” he warned. “She's not one to mess with. She might be the daughter of the entire club's founder, but lemme tell you, she didn't get her position because of her daddy. She damn well earned it, man. That crazy broad is ruthless and dangerous.”

The look of utter confusion and disbelief remained on Jax’s face, a soft breath passing between his lips. T.O. had to be shitting him, right? Some girl was a ruthless and dangerous leader? Running an entire motorcycle club on her own? Keeping a bunch of violent men in line? That sounded like some fucking made up bullshit. How had he never even heard of her before if that was true?

“A girl?” Jax repeated incredulously. “Seriously?”

“Goes by Harbinger,” T.O. added. “Maybe you’ve heard that name before?”

That gave Jax pause, his entire body stiffening against the bar at the sound of it. He’d heard that one thrown around a couple of times in passing, aware that it was someone connected to the Insurgents, but he’d never heard that the Harbinger was a woman. The Harbinger had a…serious reputation. There was no way that was a goddamn chick.

“Yeah, I have,” Jax agreed slowly, shaking his head at his phone. “But…that can’t be right, man. The Harbinger is not a name spoken lightly. How the fuck is that some chick?”

T.O. snorted at the question, the sound once more causing Jax’s lips to curl downwards in annoyance. As if it wasn't bad enough that the Irish had dumped this all onto his lap without warning, now he was going to be working alongside some female biker president that Jax couldn't possibly believe was as capable as he was being told.

“‘Cause she ain't just some chick, Jax,” T.O. replied. “Got a hell of a good crew backin’ her, too. Don't let first impressions fool you. If you're workin’ with her, she's one hell of an ally to have on your side, brother.”

Jax sighed in resignation, glancing around the clubhouse at the other Sons again. They all appeared to be feeling the same way he was about the information–uncomfortable and pissed. Rubbing a hand across his forehead, he knew there wasn't much more he could do here, not unless this Harbinger fucked up enough for the Irish to want to cut ties with her club. Which Jax found himself already secretly hoping would happen. 

“Suppose if you're gonna vouch for them, I gotta be…open-minded,” Jax said, the word coming out like it tasted sour. 

“Relax, man,” T.O. soothed over the phone. “She's good. And y'know, you might even think she's fun. Can throw back liquor with the best of us. Gotta wild side just like the rest of us, too–so long as you don't go gettin’ on her bad side.”

“Bad side?” Jax repeated, his eyes narrowing at his phone.

“Yeah, you don't wanna end up there. Trust me, man. Just don't piss her off,” T.O. forewarned him. “She doesn’t tolerate disrespect. But then again, who the fuck does, am I right?”

Not feeling much better about the entire arrangement even after the call, Jax exchanged goodbyes with the Grim Bastards’ president before hanging up his phone. Another look around the clubhouse at his brothers had Jax growing even more aware of the fact that none of them felt much more confident in the new situation they’d just been thrown into by the Irish, either. But before Jax could try to address the guys, Juice's head popped up from over the top of his laptop across the room, a wide grin spread across his face. Feeling his irritation only further rising, Jax shifted in his chair and focused his attention on Juice.

“What?” Jax snapped.

“Found them,” Juice answered, undeterred by his president's attitude. “Their club owns a towing and collision repair shop out in Sierra Heights.”

“Okay, so why the fuck are ya grinnin’ like that?” Chibs shot back at him. “Ya want a pat on the back for your Googlin' skills, brother?”

Juice shook his head, that grin on his face only growing wider and more ridiculous by the second. He turned his laptop around on the bar, the screen now facing the rest of the members in the clubhouse. Without a word, Jax leaned forward along the bartop, his eyes dropping down to the screen and what Juice had been trying to show them.

A low whistle rang out from Tig almost instantly, his pacing finally coming to an abrupt halt beside the bar. Juice only bobbed his head in a nod of agreement with Tig. Because on the screen of his laptop was the image of an attractive woman standing in front of what was clearly the business Juice had said your club ran–the legitimate one. Sierra Heights Towing and Collision Repair.

“Christ, is that the girl?” Chibs questioned in surprise.

“Yeah,” Juice replied, that goofy grin still on his face. “That’s the Insurgents’ president.”

Jax’s eyes ran over the countless visible tattoos beneath the sleeves of the shirt you were wearing in the photo. He couldn’t exactly deny the obvious confidence in the way you held yourself, and despite the fact that this photo was meant to be some sort of professional headshot for your business’ website, he also couldn't deny how attractive he found you at first glance. You were someone he’d have noticed stepping into the clubhouse within a matter of seconds, someone who clearly held a presence, someone Jax would have found himself approaching in different circumstances. But how fuckable Jax found you wasn't exactly what mattered in this situation. You were going to be his new business partner and ally, but you looked more like someone he’d want to keep warming his bed instead.

“That broad is the one runnin’ an MC and cutting deals with the Irish?” Tig asked, walking closer to the laptop screen as if he was drawn to it. He shook his head in disbelief, one hand reaching out to touch the image gently with his fingertips, as if he was actually touching you instead of the picture on the screen. A second later, his head darted over his shoulder as he focused on Jax with an almost desperate look on his face. “Jax, brother,” he practically pleaded, “we gotta meet her. Just look at her.”

A frown curled Jax’s lips downwards as he met Tig's gaze. “So she's hot, so what?” he shot back. “You wanna meet her cause you think she's gonna flash the Hellspawn her tits and subdue them into backing off of us? Think she can suck their cocks and fix all our problems for the Irish, Tig?”

For a moment, Tig paused as his head tilted to the side, looking like he was contemplating if they could have you do exactly that. With a roll of his eyes, Jax picked up his glass of whiskey from the bar, the glass pausing halfway to his mouth.

“C’mon, man. Get your goddamn head on straight. We're gonna meet her soon anyway,” he pointed out bitterly. “You heard McCormick. He's setting up somethin’ soon with both clubs. Wants us to get along.” 

Raising his glass to his lips, Jax took a deep drink from it, feeling the alcohol burn on its way down. His eyes swept around the room at his men once more, his own expression hardening at the way they kept glancing back at Juice’s laptop screen to the image of you, curiosity and interest now written on their faces. 

“I wanna meet her and find out how goddamn capable she is for myself,” Jax stated sharply, lowering his glass back to the bar. “With what we're about to get tangled up in ‘cause of the damn Irish, I'd hope that's what you all are focused on, too. Not how much you’re thinkin’ about trying to get her into your goddamn beds.”

Pushing his chair back from the bar, Jax rose to his feet in irritation. He couldn't sit here and watch his men act like this over a fucking photo. Heading straight to the chapel, Jax was dreading working alongside this female president already. There was no way in hell you had what it took to survive in the kind of world Jax had grown up in, the one he'd spent his life learning to navigate. He figured it wouldn't be long before the Irish realized their mistake with bringing your ass into things and kicked you back to the outside.

As Jax pushed open one of the doors to the chapel, he overheard Tig talking to the other Sons behind him. Jax grit his teeth at the almost wistful tone of the man’s voice.

“Just imagine that beautiful creature covered in blood,” he told the others. “Riding a Harley.”

With an agitated grunt, Jax slammed the door of the chapel shut behind him.

[persephone411]

He holds me in his big arms, drunk and I am seeing stars (Jax Teller x reader)

Jax found you standing in front of the fridge, staring into it without blinking.

“There you are babe”

His voice was slightly slurred and his walk heavy. You waved clumsily.

“Wanna head outside?, I have whiskey” He held up an half empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s. You nodded and allowed him to lead you away from the fridge. You clung onto his arm, visibly struggling to walk straight and always bumping into him. Jax walked through the crowd like he owned it and soon you were in the empty courtyard of Teller Morrow.

The party in the clubhouse was still raging inside, loud and sloppy in the way SAMCRO parties always are, the sound of pool balls cracking against each other, someone yelling over the music, Tig laughing at a joke only he finds funny.

But you’re not. You’re here. With him.

“Come” he led you to an old truck and lifted you onto the hood. Then he joined you, sitting down with his back against the front window. Wordless he pulled out into his lap and wrapped his sweatshirt jacket around you.

The night air is cool against your bare legs as you sit sideways across his lap, his kutte pressed rough and familiar against your cheek. His jacket hangs heavy on you, swallowing your frame so you could almost forget you’re in a tiny skirt. You like how it smells. Like him, leather and smoke and whiskey and the faintest trace of gasoline

He’s drunk. Not the kind of drunk where he forgets who he is, but the kind where he’s looser, quieter. His hand rests on your hip, heavy and warm, thumb rubbing small lazy circles into the fabric of your skirt. He doesn’t talk much, just lets the world spin slower for the two of you.

“Look up,” he murmurs, voice roughened by the beer and the smoke and the years.

You do.

Above you, the stars are scattered across the night sky like someone shattered a mirror into a million tiny pieces and flung them high enough to forget. They’re sharp, infinite, too beautiful to belong to a night like this, to a place like this.

“You seein’ ‘em too?” he asks softly, lips brushing your hairline.

You nod anyway, because you don’t trust your voice to work.

Because you’re not really looking at the sky. You’re seeing stars. Dizzy from the whiskey bottle you shared, from the way his body feels under yours, from the dangerous, magnetic pull of him that you can never quite shake, no matter how much sense you try to talk yourself into.

It feels like you shouldn’t be here. Not in his arms, not at this party, not in this life. But then his fingers tighten at your hip, pulling you closer, and every reason you have for leaving evaporates.

“You cold?” he asks, even though he knows you aren’t.

“No,” you whisper, your voice small and betraying more than you want it to.

He hums like he doesn’t believe you, like maybe he knows the shiver running through you isn’t from the night air at all. He presses a kiss against your temple, lingering there for a moment longer than he should, and you close your eyes.

Inside, the party is still going. But out here, you’re in his big arms, drunk on him more than the alcohol, watching stars you don’t even care about. And maybe, just maybe that’s enough.

[shelbybyr]

When your favorite fanfic writer deletes their work

[ivy09]

I hate when I’m specifically looking for fluff and the only thing that pops up is smut

[secretlysamcro]

Female reader x Jax Teller SMUT, possible spoilers & explicit language If you’re under the age of 18, haven’t finished the show or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Request: “The reader is new to Charming and meets Gemma with Abel at the supermarket. Maybe she'll help Gemma calm Abel down and they'll start talking. Gemma likes her straight away and plans to set her up with Jax to stop him from getting back together with Tara. The two fall in love, but Tara tries to intervene. But Jax shows that he only wants Reader and Tara disappears. I trust you can make something out of it…maybe Smut & Fluff. Please and thank you!”

Back story: y/n has finally settled into life in Charming, getting used to that small town feel. One evening, whilst grabbing something to eat for dinner, she helps reunite a runaway child with his grandma. Being a natural with children she’s drawn to help, and in doing so? She’s introduced to a life she knew nothing about.

Abel's wails echoed through the grocery store, his tiny fists clenched, face red and twisting with frustration.

"I WANT IT!" he shrieked, pointing at the brightly colored box of cereal.

Gemma exhaled sharply, pushing the cart forward whilst gripping onto his hand. "I said no, Abel. We have that at home".

With a quick twist, he yanked free from her grasp and took off. His sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as he disappeared into another aisle.

"ABEL!" Gemma barked, the sharp click of her own heels following his escape. "GET BACK HERE NOW!" she huffs under her breath "You little shit...just like your father".

Abel though, keeps on running.

And running.

And running. Until, he runs directly into you. You stumble slightly at the sudden impact, looking down at the little body clinging to your hoodie.

"Whoa, you okay?" you say, steadying him by his shoulders.

He blinks, seemingly unfazed "Grandma wont let me have cereal" he says, tugging at your sleeve now.

You hold back a laugh. "Yeah? and that's why you're making a run for it?"

You take his hand, following the shouts from a few aisles down. "ABEL!" Gemma continues to scream.

You turn just in time to see a woman striding towards you, her expression torn between frustration and relief.

"I think I found your escapee" you say, lifting Abels hand slightly.

Gemma reaches you in seconds, placing her hands on his face, scanning him for any signs of distress. "Oh Abel, sweetheart" she whispers, pulling him into a hug "You scared the hell outta Grandma"

Abel stands there, not returning the hug, his hands strict to his sides. "I want cereal".

She straightens up, ignoring his request, finally giving you her full attention. Her sharp gaze flickers over you, as if she was sizing you up.

"Thanks" she says, the words sounding a little forced, like it wasn't something she said often. "I said no to the cereal" she adds with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood.

"Boys will be boys" you laugh it off, looking the woman up and down. She seems, fierce. Like someone you wouldn't fuck with.

You see a shift in her stance, as she registers what you've said. "You got boys?"

"Nah...well yeah, but they're not mine...I have nephews" you respond, stumbling over your words slightly.

You miss them, you miss home and you miss your family but moving here? It was the right choice.

"Coulda fooled me" she says, noticing the confused look in your response "You got that whole Mom vibe" she says, using her hand to point you up and down.

You nod your head, a small laugh leaving your lips "Well, I did work with kids for a while"

"Teacher?"

"No... Nanny"

Something in her stance shifted slightly, just enough to be noticeable. "Huh" she looks down towards Abel who is now busy digging through your cart like he was the paying for it. "That explains it"

You smile at her words, "Yeah... I guess so"

There was a small pause, but she didn't walk away. Instead, she titled her head. "You new to Charming?"

You nodded, surprised she could tell "Yeah, a few weeks now"

"You workin'?" She crosses her arms, giving you another once over. "Sorry, I don't mean to be... in your business, I just...my son..." she ruffles Abel's hair "...his Dad, he's got a Nanny at the moment but, she's useless, hardly free..." she steps slightly closer to you now "...Just wonderin' if you still do the whole nanny thing?"

It wasn't something you had expected, and for a moment you consider saying no. You weren't exactly on the hunt for a job, but then again it would give you something to do.

"I can give you my number?" you offer, a genuine smile on your face.

Gemma pulled out her phone without hesitation, handing it over. You typed in your name and number before handing it back.

She takes a look at the screen. "y/n" she reads, "nice name"

“Gemma, by the way” she smiles, lifting her purse higher up her shoulder. “And this little guy is…” she doesn’t finish. You answer for her.

“Abel” you say, a smirk on your face, Gemma can’t help but laugh.

“You got that? Huh” she laughs “well, I’ll speak to my son and maybe give you a call sometime soon.” She says, instructing Abel to say goodbye.

“Bye bye” Abel whispers

“See ya around Buddy” you say, waving to him “Bye Gemma” you nod in her direction, before turning around and leaving the aisle.

Jax pulls up to Gemma's house in the van, Happy in the back alongside a sleeping Abel. Jax scoops him up, shooting a look over to Happy "wait here" he instructs, before sliding the doors shut.

"Mom?" Jax calls out, shutting the door with his foot after stepping inside.

"In here!" she calls out from the kitchen, sounding stressed.

Jax walks in to find her pacing, her phone in one hand and the other on her hip. she looks pissed.

"The hells up with you?" Jax asks, shifting the weight of Abel on his hip as he begins to stir.

Gemma sighs, rubbing a hand down her face. "Fucking Nate. The home called, he's losing his god damn mind again. Thinks the staff are government spies or some shit. I gotta go deal with it"

Jax sighs, already knowing the problem before its said out loud "So you can't take Abel?"

She shoots him a look. "No shit"

Jax is now the one looking stressed, rubbing the back of his neck "Shit Mom, I got club business, important business" he lets her know, without having to get into detail.

Gemma scoffs, throwing up a hand "Yeah? well I've got crazy old man business, so what do you want me to do?"

Jax ran his tongue over his teeth, his jaw tight as ever, Gemma snapping him out of it with the click of her fingers, like something just came to mind. "Wait a minute... there's that girl" she begins.

Jax frowns, not liking the idea of leaving his kid with someone he didn't fully trust, or even know.

Gemma, already going through her phone contacts. "y/n. Met her at the store with Abel the other day"

Jax's eyebrows furrowed "And you wanna leave my son with some random chick from the grocery store?"

"She used to be a nanny" she shoots back, giving him a knowing look. "She helped with Abel, without makin' me feel like a shitty grandma"

"She seem solid?" he asks, sounding sceptical

Gemma nods. “Wouldn’t have mentioned anything if I didn't”

Jax lets out a frustrated breath, looking down at Abel who was rubbing his tired eyes. "Fine, call her"

Gemma smirked, already pressing the call button. As the phone rang, Jax set Abel down on the coach, kneeling to make sure his son was good.

"You're gonna hang out with someone new today, okay little man" he mumbles softly, pushing his sons hair back.

Abel yawned, still sleepy "Okay Daddy"

Jax phone buzzed, It was Happy, they were on a tight schedule. He looked over his shoulder at Gemma, still waiting for y/n to pick up.

"I gotta go" Jax said, standing now. "You make sure she's good before you leave".

Gemma waved him off "Yeah, yeah go play outlaw. I got this"

He hesitates a little, before kissing Abel on the head, and the same his mother. He looks back before leaving "Text me her number...and give her mine, just in case" he says roughly, and then he leaves, closing the door behind him and jumping back into the van.

You pull up to the address provided by Gemma, shifting on your feet as you wait for the door to answer. It was one thing to help a frantic grandmother in a grocery store, but it was another to be trusted to watch her grandson in her home without knowing much about her, or him at all.

Within seconds, the door swung open, and there she was, her sharp eyes scanning you up and down, as if she was sizing you up all over again.

“Come in” she says, stepping aside to let you through. The walls were lined with history, frozen in time. Black and white photos of men standing besides their motorcycles, arms draped over each other in a way that screamed brotherhood. More recent photos showing different faces, but the same leather vests, ‘SONS OF ANARCHY' stitched boldly across their backs.

Then came the family photos, snapshots of Gemma alongside a man wearing the same leather vest, two young boys at their sides. As you follow the timeline through the frames, you watch as one of the little boys disappear, then so does the father figure, soon replaced by another. The most recent family photo, only including Gemma, Jax and Abel. One thing that stood out the most to you though, throughout every photo including Abel, there was always Gemma and his dad, but never a mother. A small voice snaps you out before you could make any more observations.

“Hey! I member you” You hear him before you see him. You turn to see his head popping just over the armrest of the couch, his face lighting up in recognition. “Hey buddy” you crouch slightly “You remember me, huh?” He nods eagerly “Uh huh, you found me when I was lost” Gemma scoffs, “You was not lost, you were being a pain in the ass” although abrupt, you still note the softness behind her words. You stifle a laugh as Abel turns back to his toys, Gemma eyeing you up once again. “Alright, so...” Gemma begins, already moving around the room with purpose, collecting her things. You can tell this is gonna be a quick one. “...I've gotta head up North, my dads losing it again at the nursing home, and if I don't get up there soon, they're gonna kick him out on his ass” She grabs her bag from the kitchen counter. You blink, taking in all the information at once, how someone can be so trusting with someone they barely knew? you’d never know.

Gemma paused, she could tell by your face you were a little taken back by the responsibility you were being given. “Look, y/n I know its short notice, and we don't really know each other, but I trust my gut, and my gut says you can handle this” She smiles towards Abel “And Abel? he likes you, it takes a lot for him to warm up to somebody, and with you...its been instant” Something about how she spoke made you realise Gemma didn’t seem like the type to hand out trust lightly. You nod your head, agreeing to to help. Gemma walks you through the essentials, her tone sharp but not unkind. She points out where everything is. The kitchen, the bathroom, extra clothes for Abel if he needs them, and then come the instructions.

"He'll try to sweet talk you into giving him candy, don't fall for it" she warns, opening up one of the cabinets. "Snacks are fine, but lets limit the junk" She then places a small stack of bills on the counter. "Just in case, order food if you need to, or if you gotta run out for something...the car seats in the garage to the left" Then, as if remembering, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a scrap of paper. She scribbles something down before handing it to you.

"Thats Jax's number, his dad. He might get back before I do, but if anything comes up, call him" she says, her tone casual.

You take the paper, looking down at the name and the number written. "Okay" you say, knowing its probably best if you don't question her.

Gemma exhales softly, looking at you "And make yourself at home, alright?" her voice sounding softer now, a little less sharp.

It had been a few hours since Gemma had left you to care for Abel, and honestly, out of all the kids you’d ever looked after, he was by far one of the easiest, and the cutest. He wasn’t any trouble at all. Listened to everything you said, tidied up after himself without being asked and was able to share what he wanted with little to no fuss. You’d spent that last half hour sitting with him, helping him color in his pictures. Each drawing more creative than the last. His dad, his grandmas birds, dinosaurs, and all sorts of wild and mysterious things. The way he focused on each picture, his little brow creased in concentration, was the most adorable thing ever.

There was a sweetness in the air, a peacefulness that made time fly by.

Jax pulls into his mom’s driveway, cutting the engine with a small sigh. He knew you were probably still here watching after Abel, but he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it. His trust didn’t come easy, especially when it came to his son. But serious shit had to be dealt with today, if it was any other day he would have never let it happen.

Swinging his leg off the bike, he spots your car parked in the corner. His trainers heavy against the gravel as he made his way inside, shutting the door behind him. The house was quiet, too quiet. His shoulders tensed slightly until he heard it. Abel’s laugh. Light and full, followed by a softer chuckle, which was yours.

Jax follows the sound, stopping just outside the living room. He leans against the door frame, watching.

Abel’s sprawled out on his stomach, surrounded by crayons and half colored pages, completely in his element. Next to him, you sat crossed legged, leaning forward slightly as you watched him draw, a small smile on your lips, you looked comfortable, as if you belonged there.

Jax wasn’t sure why that threw him off, but it did.

Clearing his throat gently, he makes his presence known. Abel’s head snaps up instantly.

“Daddy!” He launches himself towards Jax, who barely has any time to react. His tiny arms wrapping around his dad’s legs before he gets scooped up.

“Hey little man” he mumbles, ruffling his son’s hair. “You been good?”

“Uh huh!” Abel nods enthusiastically “y/n let me use the big paper! I drawed so much”

Jax smirks, his gaze finally shifting to you.

You had stood up now, brushing your hands against your jeans, an easy but slightly cautious smile on your face.

“I’m guessing you’re Dad” you say, tilting your head a little.

“Yeah...” he confirms “...Jax” he says, setting Abel back down, to carry on with his drawings.

“y/n…” your name rolls off of your tongue “…he’s a good kid” you say, looking down at him. "Appreciate this, by the way" he says, arms crossed leaning up against the frame again. "When my mom said she was leaving Abel with someone she met at the store... I wasn't exactly sold on the idea"

You laugh a little, shaking your head "Yeah, to be fair neither was I"

Jax chuckled at your confession, his eyes scanning you with amusement "You do this a lot?"

"What? look after random kids I barely know?" you smirk, placing a few crayons down in front of Abel. "Not really"

He laughs, "I meant the nanny stuff"

"Not for a while, not since I moved here, anyway" you let him know, moving closer to him now.

Jax nods, like he was about to say something else, but his words stall when he catches the way your expression changes. Your eyes locked onto something on him, your brows slightly furrowed as you stare at his neck.

It wasn't a questioning look, you were more confused.

Your eyes flick over to Abel, then back to Jax. You didn't say anything out loud, but your hand lifted slightly, your fingers grazing the side of your own neck, in a small and subtle gesture.

Jax, with a look matching your own, rubs the spot you motioned to. His fingertips coming back sticky and streaked red.

"Shit" he muttered under his breath. His tone was casual, but his posture shifted, his back was now stiff, as if he was waiting for you to say something. Maybe press him on what the hell he'd done.

But you didn't. "Uh...” you murmur, breaking the silence. "...You might wanna clean that up" you suggest, nodding toward the mess. He hesitated for a second, watching you, before tipping his chin upwards. "Yeah… sorry…uh…are you good if I handle this quickly? Wont be long, then you can head out"

"Yeah, sure" you said, your voice sounding even.

Jax lingered a little longer, waiting again for you to pry.

But still, you didn't.

You turn to Abel, scooping up another crayon like nothing had happened.

Jax exhales, running a hand through his hair before heading to the bathroom.

You look over your shoulder as he leaves, catching the bold letters stitched across his back.

'SONS OF ANARCHY'

Yeah, you think you're starting to see that.

You’d taken care of Abel countless times by now, whether it was at Gemma’s, Jax’s or even your own place. And now, as part of their inner circle, the clubhouse too. You were now aware of Jax’s role as president. You didn’t know all the details, but you understood enough, the good and the bad. You’ve spent enough time with Jax and the others, for them to now trust you completely. They’d protect you like one of their own.

And as for the missing mother figure, you’d pieced it together over time. Wendy, Jax’s ex wife, had let her crank addiction take over, and that was the reason she was no longer in Abel’s life.

You and Jax? Well, it had always been platonic, at least on the surface. But there was always this undeniable tension between you two, something neither of you could fully ignore.

Gemma would sometimes drop sly hints to Jax about the two of you, and the guys weren’t any better. They’d tease him, noticing the way you both looked at each other, how you’d get flustered in his presence and vice versa. It was obvious to everyone, expect maybe to you and Jax.

The platonic shit though? The lines started to blur the moment you experienced your first club lockdown.

𝘑𝘢𝘹’𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘣𝘦𝘭’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥.

𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮 “𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵… 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘦’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥”

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 “𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵… 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵.

“𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸” 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 “𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐’𝘮 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘈𝘣𝘦𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶..” 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘴 “…𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶” 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳.

𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘩𝘶𝘨.

𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦, ���𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵.

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘣 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴. “𝘛𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩?” 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸.“𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘣𝘦𝘭… 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘐’𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺?” 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥.

“𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴.

The lines between you and Jax had slowly started to fade. The time you spent together had changed, deepened even. You no longer rushed out the door when Jax got home, instead you stayed. It wasn't always intentional, but somehow, you both found ways to stretch the time a little longer. You'd talk about everything. Life, relationships, a bit about the club here and there, but never too much, of course. Sometimes you'd share a joint together after Abel had fallen asleep. Other times you'd cook for all three of you, filling the space in the kitchen with jokes, the clatter of pots and pans, and Abel’s little laughs. One time, before you even realised, you were sitting closer to him, your legs brushing and his hand resting lightly on the back of your neck, pulling you into him. His kiss was slow, almost shy at first, like he was asking permission. When you didn't pull away, he made it stronger. His grip tightening around you, pulling you into him until there was no space left. One moment you were sitting side by side, and the next, you were straddling him, his hands firmly placed on the small of your back. His hips moved ever so slightly, a movement that had your breath catching in your throat. "Daddy!" Abels nightmare had broken the tension, pulling you both out of the haze you'd been caught in.

Since that night, nothing else had happened. Sure, there were moments, the flirtatious looks and the touches that lasted just a little bit too long. You both danced around it though, the tension always there, neither of you making the first move. Both in a stand still, waiting for the other to break.

Jax was laid back, his body heaving with pleasure. His fingers twitching at his side, almost begging his hands to grab you and guide you just how he needed you. He couldn’t see much, just the dim glow of light casting shadows from behind, but fuck he could feel you.

The warmth of your hands as they grip his thighs. The slow, slow, torturous movements that had his toes scrunched.

“Fuck y/n” he exhales, his head tipping back but his eyes locked on you. And you were looking right back at him, almost teasing, amused by how fucking wrecked he was.

His breath, now shaking. Your movements were so fucking slow, drawing out every second, focusing on his tip, making sure he felt every fucking thing.

And he did.

His stomach tensed, his thighs clenched, and that familiar pressure built deep and tight inside of him, felt like it was about to come to the surface.

He tries to keep his composure, but when you do that thing with your tongue it causes a deep groan to rip from his chest as he grabs the back of your head. His hard jaw clenched, his stomach locked up, and then…

His eyes snap open.

He drags a hand over his sleepy face. “Jesus fucking Christ” he grunts adjusting himself to an upright position. The room too quiet, the bed too empty.

Reality floods back with a jolt. He groans in frustration, as his boxers cling uncomfortably to him, warm and sticky like a fucking virgin.

Today was a big day, he had to ask y/n a favor, a huge fucking favor. How she’d respond? He had no damn idea.

So now wasn’t the time to be thinking about her like that, especially not after that fucking dream.

The phone call was short and to the point.

“Can you get here now?” His voice was firm, urgent but not panicked. Still, it was enough to make your heart race.

“Yeah, of course” you barely took a second to think before grabbing your keys and heading over. You assumed it was about Abel, maybe he was sick or Jax had to leave on short notice.

But when you arrived, Abel wasn’t there. Instead, Jax and Gemma were waiting for you in the kitchen.

Your steps come to a stop in the doorway, something felt off.

“Where’s Abel?” You ask, nervously looking at them both.

“He’s with Unser, sweetheart” Gemma’s says simply.

You swallow your nerves, slowly making your way deeper into the kitchen. “Have I done something wrong?” You question, confused as to what the fuck is going on.

“Shit, no” Jax laughs, shaking his head “Ain’t nothin’ like that, sit down darlin” he says, making his way over to the kitchen table.

Gemma exhales, tapping against the sink, watching as you get comfortable in your chair. “We need to ask you something. And before you say no, just…just hear us out okay” she joins you both now.

“Okay…” you say flatly, trying to gage from their faces what the hell is going on.

Jax ran a hand down his face, glancing at his mom before looking back to you. “There’s a strong chance me and some of the guys…will be doin’ some time”

Your breath stopped for a second, but before you could even react, he kept going.

“And if that happens, when it happens, I need someone here. Someone who Abel trusts, someone who won’t let shit fall apart” his Jaw flexes, “I want you to move in, whilst I’m in Stockton”

You blinked. “Move in?”

Gemma nodded, seeing your shock and also seeing how Jax didn’t know what else to say to you. “Take care of Abel, keep this place runnin’ till Jax is back”

Your mouth opens, and then closes. “That’s…” you shook your head a little “That’s a big fucking ask”

Jax sighs, running a hand though his hair “I know”

He knew it was insane, the moment Gemma suggested it, he knew it would be too much to ask of you. He had no right to ask you to put your life on hold for his, and for Abel.

But part of him knew just how better he would feel knowing it was you here with his son.

You sat back, exhaling “Jax… I have my own place, what am I suppose to d-“

“I’ll cover it” he said quickly “Rent, bills, whatever you need I just…” his jaw hardens again “I just need to know Abel’s safe”

You swallow hard, the sound causing Jax’s stomach to flip.

Gemma leans forward. “I’d do it, but I’ve got TM, gotta keep shit in line there. Unser’s listenin’ out for us. APB don’t go wide until the 23rd so we have some time to sort shit out if not…but you’re the only one who makes sense” her voice softens, “and you know Abel loves you, sweetheart”

You did, and you loved him too.

Jax was watching you carefully, but his gaze kept wavering. Your face, your mouth, the way your hands twisted in your lap. The dream was still fucking with his head, and now you were right in front of him, it was worse.

He pulled against his beard, waiting for you to speak, his leg bouncing slightly under the table. He wasn’t used to asking for help, wasn’t used to feeling like this.

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate y/n” he rubs the back of his neck, voice quieter now.

Gemma sighs, standing up and smoothing out her jacket. "I'll let you two talk"

You watch on as she grabs her purse, giving Jax a look before heading for the door.

Gemma turns to you before she leaves "We know it's a lot..." she admits "...but you're family sweetheart" she exits before you can even respond, the second it clicks shut, silence settles between you.

"How long?" you ask, your voice steady but there’s no need to elaborate, he knows exactly what you're asking.

He lights a cigarette "Could be five years"

Your stomach drops and your chest tightens. "Five years?" You cant help the way your voice cracks, the gravity of his words sinking in.

He nods, seeing how shocked you are "Two, with good behaviour"

"Fucking hell Jax" you shake your head, your head now in your hands.

"I know…I know, y/n" he says quietly, as much as he wants you to say yes, if you don't he fully understands why. "You've already done so much for Abel... for me"

You look back up at him, feeling the weight of his words. Its not just a job, its not just responsibility, its trust.

"I mean it y/n" he continues, his hand now holding yours, his touch firm but warm, grounding you in the same way it always does. "I really fuckin' appreciate you".

You try to wrap your head around it all, but the doubt lingers. "What the hell did you do, Jax?" The question slips out before you can stop it, though you already know the answer.

He shakes his head, his voice firm "You know I can't tell you that"

His refusal hits you harder than you had expected, the anger in your chest now growing. "So, you want me to move in here, put my life on hold for at least two years, maybe five, and you cant give me anything?"

He stays silent, just staring at you. His eyes heavy but offering you no answers. This only makes it worse. You shove the chair back, getting up and then beginning to pace the kitchen. You come to a stop, leaning against the counter, your head facing the floor.

As you stand there, Jax can't help but notice the way your top rides up, exposing your lower back. His mind flashing to the dream he's been trying to push away. You turn around suddenly, as if you could read his mind. The weight of everything crashing down on you. The love for Abel is natural, easy. But Jax? Its more complicated than you've let yourself admit. You run a hand over your face, trying to steady yourself.

"I'll do it" you say, the words feeling heavier than you intended them too.

Jax doesn't say anything at first, but then he's stepping towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His arms wrap around you, secure and once again grounding.

His forehead presses against yours, his breath glazing your skin.

"Thank you y/n" he whispers, the words just for you but they hit so much deeper.

The house is quiet, the only sounds coming from the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the floorboards as you move around.

Most of your essentials are here now, scattered in half unpacked boxes, making the place feel something in between temporary and permanent.

Before Jax and the guys left for club business, he hovered, like he was reluctant to leave, the same way he gets when he doesn’t want to say something outright. He’d stood in the doorway for a second longer than needed, looking at you, and then his house, like he was trying to memorise how it looked with your belongings and you, inside.

“You good?” His voice was low.

“Yeah…” you look around, behind you “…I’m good”

His lips pressed together for a moment, then he nodded “Call if you need me”.

You huffed mockingly “Jax, I’ll be fine”

That smirk, the one that always got to you, tugged at his lips. “Yeah, but still”

He still didn’t hurry to leave, the others waiting for him by the side of the road. Instead, he took a step forward, without thinking twice about it, he leaned in and pressed a slow, warm kiss to your cheek. Not rushed, not just a goodbye. His way of showing you just how much he appreciates everything you’re giving up for him, and for Abel.

“I’ll see you later Darlin’” and then, he leaves.

The knock at the door comes about half an hour later.

You expect it to be Gemma with Abel, or maybe Jax doubling back because he forgot something. But when you pull the door open, it’s neither of them.

She’s tall, striking, and has her hair pulled back just enough to show off her sharp cheekbones.

Her lips part slightly, clearly not expecting you to answer the door, her voice carefully controlled. “Is Jax here?” You don’t move, “No he’s not” you offer nothing else.

Her eyes flick over you, and you can see the moment she registers that you’re not just some random guest. You’re here, in his house, wearing one of his tees, looking comfortable, like you belong.

She hesitates, her gaze looking past you as if she’s still waiting for him to appear from behind. When he doesn’t, her lips press into a thin line.

“Sorry… who are you?” She questions, trying to make sense of it all.

You lift your chin slightly “I could ask you the same thing”.

“I’m Tara” the way she says it, like it should mean something to you, but you don’t budge "Jax's e-“

Tara.

Jax had told you about her, not in great detail, but in passing. Late night conversations when it was just the two of you, when the club was quiet and he was a little looser with his words. He never spoke about her in bitterness. Just…restraint. Like he wasn’t sure what to do with the memories. You never pushed for details, you didn’t need them.

Whatever had happened between them though, you could tell she’d once meant a lot to him.

And now, here she is standing at his door…your door.

“Well he’s not here” you don’t let her finish her words.

She exhales deeply, clearly frustrated. “I just need to talk to him”

You squint your eyes, wondering if she’s struggling to understand you. “Like I said, he’s not here” you tell her, your voice dropping to a more serious tone.

No, technically Jax wasn’t yours, but you sure as hell ain’t having her thinking he’s available.

You stare straight through her, standing your ground, still unmoved.

She scoffs, before turning around without another word.

She’s trying to worm her way back at the wrong fucking time.

You’re already inside before Tara gets in her car, she moves quickly though, yanking open her car door and sliding in. Gemma pulls up just as the familiar car disappears down the street. The second she steps out, Abel on her hip, her sunglasses slide down the bridge of her nose, following Tara’s car with a look of pure disgust.

“Well ain’t that just fuckin’ perfect” she mutters, shifting Abel higher as she walks towards the front door.

Gemma lets herself in without hesitation, the second she puts Abel down, he’s off, running straight to you with that big dimpled grin of his.

“Hey honey” you speak, scooping him up effortlessly. His little arms wrap tight around your neck, and as you hold him close, you feel it. The weight of this decision, moving in here, making this place home. It was the right choice. Any doubts you had, long gone.

Gemma drops her keys onto the table, her eyes sharp as she turns to you “that who I think it was?"

You nod, grinding your jaw slightly. “Said she needed to talk to Jax”

Gemma scoffs, shaking her head. You can tell it’s more than just anger, it’s pain, deep seated and old. “She say what about?”

“Didn’t give her the chance” you say simply. “Just told her Jax weren’t in”

Gemma smirks at that, like she’s a little proud “good girl” the softness is fleeting though, her expression hardens again as she sighs deeply.

She bends down leaving a kiss to Abel’s head before leaning in to give you one too. A small gesture that means more than she’ll ever say out loud.

“You need anything? Gotta run to TM for a bit...I’ll let Jax know she’s back”

You shake your head with a small smile “we’re all good”

Gemma nods, satisfied, then ruffles Abel’s hair.

“Bye grandma!” He calls out, already too focused on emptying his toy box to look up.

Gemma laughs, shaking her head as she heads for the door, but before she steps out, she turns to look back at you.

“Don’t let that bitch rattle you”

It has been just over a week since you officially moved in and everything has fallen into place effortlessly. Jax offered to take the couch while he was still here, but of course, that didn't last. Every night, you ended up in his bed, cuddling under the sheets, both of you aching for more but neither of you willing to break first.

The kitchen feels like it’s holding its breath. Tara’s presence fills the space, but it doesn’t quite fit anymore. She came looking for him again ‘needed to talk’. Jax instructed you to stay down here, didn’t want you to think he had any intentions of swaying backwards.

You sit perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, legs crossed, Jax’s oversized tee just covering above your thighs, stirring your coffee with slow and deliberate movements.

Watching.

Tara leans in too close to Jax, her voice softer than necessary and her hand resting lightly on the table near his.

Too close.

Jax doesn’t entertain it though, he doesn’t give her shit. Just sits back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

“I heard about your upcoming trip” Tara says, clearly fishing for information.

“And who told you about that?” His expression dark, leaning back further into his chair.

“The town talks Jax, you of all people should know that” she says comfortably like she has a right to talk to him like that.

“Mhm” is all he hums in response.

“Just thought I should come and see you before…” she trails off, sighing.

Jax exhales sharply, his nose flaring “What are you really doing here Tara?” He questions, not amused in the slightest.

“I’m just saying Jax, I still care…” the scrape of his chair moving backwards drowns out her voice. He knows where she’s going with this and to be honest he doesn’t give a fuck.

Just as jax goes to speak, the front door swings open.

Gemma.

She steps inside, Abel clinging onto her hand. She takes one look at the three of you, eyes moving between Tara and Jax, then to you sitting calmly on the counter.

“Hi daddy!” Abel says, strolling over to him, hugging his leg.

“Hey little man, have fun at grandmas?” Jax says leaving a kiss to his sons head.

“Well” Gemma says, setting her purse down with a thud “Ain’t this a sight?” She laughs.

Tara straightens slightly, clearing her throat “I was just checking in on Jax”

Gemma raises her eyebrow “Right”

“y/n can we play now, I missed you” Abel says, moving quickly into your direction.

“Of course we can baby” you say, pushing yourself off the counter.

You look to Jax who’s standing to your left “I’ll leave you guys to it” you smirk softly.

Tara watching you both closely.

“Yeah” he whispers, brushing his hand against your thigh, leaving it there just a little too long. A simple touch, brief but purposeful.

And then, he kisses you, quickly, but it happens.

Gemma sees it.

Tara sees it.

His way of showing Tara, she has no fucking chance.

The clubhouse is quiet except for the murmur of low voices as the club members gather around the table, the weight of what’s coming hanging over the room. Jax needs to make some things clear before the shit hits the fan.

“We all know the deal” Jax starts, his voice firm, looking around the table, taking in each member’s face. “Some of us will be headin’ to Stockton soon, and it’s gonna get real fucking tight for a while. We need to be clear about what happens next and who’s doing what. No room for mistakes”. He lights his cigarette.

Chibs shifts in his seat, the tension evident in his posture “Aye, we’re ready for what’s comin’”

Jax nods. “Thank you brother”.

They continue to go over plans, outlining how things will run with half the club missing. The pressure of the situation hanging over them, and tying up loose ends.

The conversation shifts to their connections inside and what they can do to ensure their comfort whilst locked up. Jax stresses the importance of staying out of trouble, his voice stern as he makes it clear that he needs to get out the earliest he can.

Jax leans forward, his hands clasped together on the table as he looks around, making sure everyone can see how serious he is. “Gemma’s still runnin’ TM. Any problems, any bullshit you take it to her. She says jump, you ask how high” he doesn’t wait for confirmation, he knows they understand.

He exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck before he continues “y/n’s moved in at my place now. Taking care of Abel, looking after the house whilst I’m inside. Anything she needs, money, help, whatever the fuck it is. You make sure she gets it”

Theres a tick of silence before Tig smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, about that… what’s goin’ on with you two? Huh? Cause she sure as shit ain’t just the nanny”

Jax rolls his jaw, trying to hide his laughter. “She’s takin’ care of my kid and my house. That’s what’s goin on”

Opie chuckles “Come on man. We’ve all seen the way you look at her, and how she looks right back”

Jax laughs, brushing off the questions completely, he didn’t know how to answer, because he doesn’t fucking know himself.

“Look I’m serious, I want someone checkin’ in on her every morning and every night. Gemma too. I don’t want either of em feelin’ like they gotta handle shit on their own. They ask for something? They get it, that clear?”.

A chorus of nods and muttered agreements follow, but the smirks don’t fade. The guys hear what Jax is saying, but they sure as shit don’t believe that’s all there is to it.

You unlock the door ahead of Jax, Abel asleep in his arms. Its the 22nd. His last night before the APB goes wide, before the cops come knocking, before the next few years of his life are ripped away.

The clubhouse had been a storm of booze, laughter and sorrow. Brothers saying their goodbyes, pretending this wasn't the last time they'd all be together for a long fucking time. Jax was thrown off completely when Tara walked in the door. Her voice dripping with fake sweetness, still trying to remind him of what they used to be. Her hand caressed his arm, her eyes searching for any trace of the love they once shared. But Jax had barely made eye contact with her. "Aint got time for this, Tara" He told her, before she left.

He had bigger things on his mind, things that actually fucking mattered. Like his son. Like you. Like what little time he had left before everything changed.

He pulled his Mother to one side before leaving. She cupped his face, her hands pressing into his stubble as she studied him "You come back to us whole Jackson, don’t you dare let that place break you".

Jax nodded, swallowing hard, his throat bobbing as he did so "I got this ma" he said, before pulling her into a hug.

Gemma looked over to you, a sympathetic smile on her face. "I'll be round in the morning sweetheart" Although it’s never been said out loud, Gemma could read Jax. She could read you too. She knew there was something more going on between you both. She was just waiting for someone to admit it.

It was a good night, emotional but for good reason. Jax had cut out early though, taking you and Abel home. He didn't want his last night of freedom to be a blackout blur, he wanted to remember it.

He carries Abel to his room, tucking him in one last time, for a long time. You stand in the doorway, watching the bittersweet moment unfold. Abel doesn't understand what's happening, doesn't know where Jax is going, only that Daddy wont be home for a long time.

You catch the glisten of a tear fall from his eyes as he presses a kiss to Abel's forehead "Daddy loves you" he whispers, before quietly climbing in behind him, holding him close to his chest, letting him fall back to sleep in blissful ignorance.

You wait for him in the bedroom, as he walks in, you rub his shoulders, feeling the weight of everything beneath your fingertips.

He shrugs off his kutte, melting onto the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, like the weight of everything has just fucking hit him.

You kneel between his parted legs, gently pulling his hands away from his face and holding them in your own, pressing them to your lips, your breath warming his hands.

“He’s gonna be fine Jax” you kiss his hand softly. “I promise” you look up at him waiting for a response.

He exhales, his eyes heavy. He knows. He’s always know. Abel loves you and you love him back just as much, he knows his son is in the safest hands.

“It’s not that, y/n. I know he’s safe with you, I just…” He exhales sharply, staring down at his hands in yours. His voice drops to a whisper. “Eight years old”.

You look up to him, your brows pushed together “what?”

He swallows, his throat stuttering. “If we do the full five years… he’ll be eight when I get out. He won’t even remember-”

“Stop” your voice is firm as you cut him off. “You’re not doing five years cause your ass is gonna be as good as gold in there…right?” You arch a brow at him, a small smile on your lips.

A quiet laugh leaves his chest. “Yeah” he nods, the tension in his face easing just slightly.

You push off his legs as you stand, slipping off your shoes before walking over to the mirror. As you unclip your earrings and wipe away your makeup, Jax doesn’t move, just leans back against his elbows, hands over his chest, watching you. Watches the way you move in his space like you’ve always belonged here.

His mind drifts back to the first time he met you, at his mom’s house. The day you watched Abel for the first time. He remembers how reluctant he was, how he didn’t want to leave his son with some ‘random chick’.

Now, he couldn’t Imagine anyone else.

“Jax, Abel’s asleep. Go back to the clubhouse if you want” you say, your voice softer than you intended.

You turn back, wiping your face with a cotton pad, trying to keep yourself together.

He doesn’t move. Just continues watching you. “Nah” he murmurs.“I wanna be here”.

There’s something final in the way he says it. You walk back over, sitting next to him, he sits up, joining you.

He’s looking at you, really looking at you, like he’s memorising every detail. Because this is it. The last time he’ll be this close to you for a long fucking time. The two of you have spent so long pretending, dodging around something that’s always been there.

“y/n…” he shakes his head slightly “I know I’ve already said it, but… thank you” his voice is raw “for doing this for me, for Abel” his eyes still locked on yours, glassy though, fighting back emotions he never lets anyone see. He tilts his head back, bringing hard trying to force the tears away.

Before you can even stop it, a tear slides down your own cheek, you wipe it away slowly. “I’m really gonna miss you Jax” you admit, your leg bouncing with nerves.

“Thank you for trusting me with him…” you let out a breath of laughter. “I love that little boy so fucking much”

Jax gives a small knowing smile. “I know” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. “And he loves you too”

Then, like he can’t hold it in any longer, like the thought of carrying this with him for the next few years is too much. He finally says it.

“So do I”

It’s quiet, almost hesitant, but his hand reaches for yours, his grip warm as always.

More tears well in your eyes, blurring the sight of him in front of you. He uses his thumb to move them out the way. You’ve waited for this, for so fucking long and of course it happens now, hours before he’s ripped away from you.

“I love you too” the second the words leave your lips, something heavy lifts inside you.

Like you can finally breathe.

He exhales, shaking his head, the slightest laugh leaving his lips as his thumb brushes over your knuckles, “I shoulda told you sooner” he confesses, his voice full of emotion. A tear slipping free before he wipes it away quickly.

“But fuck, I love you y/n” he’s staring at you deeply again. The airs thick with the confessions that have been left unsaid for too long. His blue eyes fixated on you, his chest rising and falling like he’s trying to steady himself.

He lets out a shaky breath, resting his forehead against yours. His hands slide down your back. “I don’t know how to say goodbye to you”

You swallow, “it’s not goodbye” you say, tapping his chin.

That’s all it takes.

He kisses you slowly, like he’s trying to memorise the shape of your lips, the way that you taste and the way you sigh into his mouth.

His hands begin roaming your body with slow touches, mapping you out, branding you in his memory.

He lays you back, hovering over you, his fingers tracing over your skin like he’s afraid he’ll never touch you again.

Maybe he is afraid, maybe that fear is sitting in his chest the same way it’s sitting in yours.

When he finally pushes into you, it’s slow, deep and smooth. Your wetness guiding him in like he belonged. His breath coming out in sharp, uneven exhales as he stretches you open, inch by inch.

A desperate moan escapes your lips, as your body adjusts to his size. Your nails digging into the reaper inked on his back. “Oh…fuck Jax”

His jaw stiffens at the way you say his name, like it’s the only thing holding you together. He rolls his hips, pushing deeper, pulling gasps from you. “Fuuck” he groans, his voice rough, almost pained but more in pleasure “you feel…so fucking good y/n” His arms tighten around you, like if he holds on tight enough, this moment won’t have to end.

Jax moves inside you with slow, forceful strokes. His hands gripping your thighs, fingers melting into your flesh. He’s pulling you closer and deeper. His eyes never leaving yours.

Each thrust sends waves of pleasure rolling through you. But it’s more than that, it’s the way his body fits against yours, the way he groans harshly every time you tighten around him. You don’t just feel him inside you, you feel him everywhere. The way his hands glide over your body, the way he breathes your name, the way he’s making love to you like he’d never get the chance to do it again.

And like the way he whispers ‘I love you’ over and over, each time more desperate than the last.

Everything is devastatingly perfect.

“Look at me” he groans, his voice deep and commanding. You throw your head back in pleasure, breaking the eye contact.

“Don’t look away” his lips brush against yours as he pushes in harder. His stare holds you captive, and the way he’s filling you, bringing you closer and closer, drawing moans out from within.

“Yeah? that feel good darlin’” his hips crashing into you. Your back arches when he adjusts his position slightly, pushing in from a different angle.

“Gonna…fuckin’ miss you… miss this” he mutters, picking up his pace now, his rhythm causing you to gasp for air, your walls tightening further around him. His eyes wincing in pure pleasure.

You can feel it building, that tight, desperate ache, and so can Jax. His fingers slide between you both, rubbing slow against your clit. You’re so fucking close now.

“Don’t…don’t stop Jax…fuc-” he covers your mouth, kissing at your neck.

“That’s it baby” his eyes boring into you, praising you as you fall apart beneath him.

“…Jax…I’m gonna” you were close, so fucking close.

“Not yet, darlin’” he grunts, pushing your legs up higher, hitting that spot that has your vision going white. “I wanna feel you cum with me. Wanna take that with me when I go”

It’s too much, the way he’s moving, the way his chain swings in rhythm to his thrusts, the way he’s looking at you, like you’re his, like you’ve always been his.

“Jax.. I….cant… I’m-” you’re struggling to maintain composure. and then it hits, your body spasming in complete fucking orgasm.

You cry out, gripping at the sheets, gripping at Jax, gripping at whatever the fuck you can. He’s just seconds behind you.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s it…” he groans, following you into fucking bliss. His hips trembling as he spills inside you. He collapses onto his forearms, his breath ragged, he’s a fucking mess, and so are you.

You both stay exactly where you are sweat and sex clinging to the air, your bodies moulded as one.

Tomorrow though, this bed will only contain one of you.

And the other will be behind bars.

The morning Jax left was fucking brutal. Abel didn't understand, and the confusion in his little eyes just about broke everyone's heart. Jax didn't say much, a kiss on Abel's head, a tight hug for his mom and then he pulled you in close.

The kiss he gave you was heavy, like he was trying to say everything he physically couldn't say out loud. "Take care of him" he whispered before adding "I love you".

You choked out the words, barely able to keep it together. "I love you too"

You stood there, holding Abel tightly, his little arms wrapped around your neck like he knew something was wrong.

You watched in silence as Jax swung his leg over his bike, the rumble of the engine cutting through the early morning fog. He didn’t look back, not at you, not at his mother or not at Abel. Just rode off towards the clubhouse, waiting for the inevitable. Gemma, stood next to you with her arms crossed, still silent, but watching.

She had always been watching.

She had saw the way you and Jax looked at each other, the way your hands brushed when no one was supposed to notice. Maybe she never understood exactly what it was between you two, but after hearing Jax tell you he loves you, and you saying it back, there's no question anymore. Whatever this was, it runs deep, and that meant she had something to protect.

Three months.

That’s how long it had been since you last saw him.

Three fucking months since he had you gripping at his back, struggling to breathe.

No phone calls, no letters, nothing. Just an empty bed. A quiet house, and Abel asking where his dad was every damn day.

Jax hasn't been allowed any contact for the first three months of his incarceration and rules were rules. Gemma, had her first visit last week, and finally it was your turn.

The second Jax walked in, he knew he was fucked.

Three months.

Three fucking months with nothing but cold walls, bad food and the memory of him making you moan playing in his head on repeat. He missed Abel, he missed you, he missed home.

And now you were right in front of him, sitting at that metal table looking so fucking good.

His golden locks, shaved down to a messy buzz. His jaw was sharper, covered in rough stubble. His blue eyes, darker. Heavy like he’d seen some shit you knew he wasn’t gonna talk about.

The second he reached you, his arms were around you. Holding you so fucking tight you could barely breathe, but it was perfect. His face buried in your neck, his fingers clenching your waist as if he was trying to convince himself that you were real.

“Missed you so fucking much” he whispered against your skin, his voice rougher than usual.

“Missed you too” you smile against his warmth.

A sharp voice cut through the moment.

“That's enough, Teller”

Jax exhales hard, his jaw tightening as he pulls back to sit down, following the orders from one of the guards. His eyes locked on yours, as you take your seat across from him, smirking and your eyes eating him up.

“You like it Darlin’” he asks, almost smug, running his hand over his head

Your lips curl into a smile. “I think I like it a little too much” you say, shifting in your seat.

He breaths deeply out of his nose as he adjusts in his seat, the heat spreading through his body “yeah?”

“Yeah” you repeat. Biting your lower lip, your eyes locked on him. Silent, but saying everything.

He knows exactly what you’re thinking, exactly what would happen if there weren’t so many eyes on you both. He lets out a low, rough laugh. Dragging his tongue over his teeth, his jaw tight. He shakes his head, rolling his shoulders as the frustration sets in.

Three months without you, without a real fucking touch. And now you’re right in front of him, looking at him like that, and he can’t do a damn thing about it.

It’s fucking torture.

You could tell Jax was trying to steady himself, the frustration simmering just beneath his surface. You decided it was time to shift the focus.

Give him something to hold onto.

“Abel’s doing well” you say softly, watching his face for a sign of relief. “Started preschool on Tuesday. He’s a little shy but he’s getting there” you laugh “the teachers love him, said he’s picking things up really fast”

Jax’s lips twitch nto a smile “that’s my boy” he mutters, but you could see the small flash of regret etched across his face.

“He talks about you a lot” you continue, leaning forward a little.

“Asks when you’re coming home all the time…we’ve told him you’re at the cabin...looking after all the animals” you laugh as the memory of Abel’s innocent excitement runs through your mind when you explained that to him.

His jaw goes stiff, his lips pressing into a hard line as he nods, taking in everything you’re saying. “Hate not being there” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

Jax leans forward, joining you now. His hand instinctively reaching for yours, the desperate need to touch you evident in his eyes. But before he can even reach you, the same voice cuts through the air.

“Hands on the table teller! No contact!” The guard barks, his tone stern.

Jax gives him a death stare, before turning back to you, his palms laying flat against the cool table.

“You sure about this babe?” He leans forward, his eyes darkening.

“Sure about what?”

He sucks in a breath, now holding onto the sides of the cold scratched table. “about us y/n. You sure this is what you want?”

You stare at him, the gravity of the question hitting you hard. “I’m not going anywhere Jax…I fucking love you”

You want him. You want all of him. If that meant waiting, then it’s exactly what you’re gonna do.

His expression softens.

“I love you too babe” he whispers the words, low and certain. Like they were never in doubt. His fingers twitch restlessly, wanting to reach for yours, but he stops himself. You can see it in his eyes, the same look he gave you that night before he had to leave, he wants you.

“You know… when Gemma came to see me last week, she wouldn’t shut up about you. Said you’ve been handling things, taking care of Abel like he was your own… she’s proud of you y/n…I…fuck, I’m proud of you too”

You hesitate for a moment before your curiosity gets the better of you “Did Gemma tell you what Abel’s been asking?” You ask, your voice quieter now, like you’re unsure how to even bring it up.

Jax looks at you, a slight furrow in his brow, waiting for you to elaborate. You take a breath, not sure how Jax will react. “He keeps asking if he can call me mommy” you pause, then continue, almost sounding apologetic. “I said we’d talk about it, I didn’t know what to say to him Jax, I don’t wanna mess him up” you look up, waiting to see his reaction.

Jax leans back in his seat, his expression softening a little as he watches you. His hands rests on the table; his fingertips brushing against the cold metal. His eyes flicker over your face, like he’s trying to read you.

“I told you, y/n” he starts, his voice raspy “Abel cares about you. I’ve always seen it in him. He loves and trust you, big time”

You nod slowly, your fingers fiddling nervously. “I know” you say quietly “but I don’t want people thinking I’m overstepping or… trying to replace his…his real m-" Jax cuts you off before you can even finish the word.

His eyes narrow, but there’s still a hint of a smile. He’s leaning into you again, his elbows on the table. “Y/n you’re not ‘replacing’ anyone. If he wants to call you that, that’s on him, not you…” he runs a hand through his unkept beard before he continues “…and if he wants to say it, you don’t need to overthink it. You just… you just answer him”

You nod hesitantly at first, but then Jax’s words sink in. He shuffles forward again, his hands now gently resting on yours. When has he ever followed the rules?

“Hands, Teller! Don’t let me have to tell you again!”

Jax’s attention moves over to the guard. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. His hands stay right on top of yours for just a second longer, then with a dramatic motion, he places them back on the table.

“Yeah, I heard you” Jax mumbles, his tone sarcastic. He looks away from the guard, attention back on you now.

“good as gold… remember?” You raise your eyebrow.

“I know babe, I know” Jax chuckles.

You lean in slightly, lowering your voice so only he can hear “You need to keep your cool, Jax” you pause looking around discreetly making sure no one else is listening in “the sooner you’re out, the sooner we can pick up where we left off” a filthy smile tugging at your lips, your eyes enforcing a challenge and you can see how it’s affecting him.

His eyes glaze over as he watches you, a low growl leaving him. “Fuck, y/n don’t start”

“What?” You tease, “what’s wrong?” Your eyes glinting.

He breathes sharp, his hands, now fists tap against the metal “y/n” he almost warns.

But then he breaks, “Can’t wait to get my fucking hands on you”.

You lean in a fraction closer, letting your words sink in deep "I need you so fucking bad, Jax" your tone laced with desire. Your leg slides subtly under the table, moving against his.

The forbidden touch heightened to the fucking max.

"Don't fucking tease me, y/n" he growls, looking over his shoulder, before snapping his attention back to you "You don't know how fuckin' bad I want you, I've been thinkin' bout that night for the past three months. The way you moaned my name, your pussy holdin' on to me so fuckin' tight" He tilts his head to the left, analysing your reaction.

You bite your lip, the words sinking into you, right fucking into you. His roughness, the way he talks about you, its making you fucking wet.

"You thinking about what you could be doing to me right now?" your wide eyes tracking his every movement. "Me bent over this table, your dick buried deep inside me?" You let your leg move again, knowing it’s driving him fucking wild.

His breath hitches as he struggles to maintain control, his cock pushing up into the fabric of his orange uniform.

He grunts hanging his head in complete desperation. "Fucking tease" he shakes his head, trying to think of anything but that. And just as the air between the two of you is about to combust, Jax's favourite guard pipes up.

"Visitations over!"

Jax looks up, noticing the other inmates and family members saying goodbye. He shoots you a look, shaking his head "This is fucking ridiculous" he mutters, he stays where he is, doesn't move. His body still stiff with unreleased desire. You hold back a laugh, standing up from the table yourself.

"You're gonna need to step away from the table, Teller" one of the guards orders, walking towards you.

Still, he doesn't move, his face flush as he takes a deep breath, his eyes burning into yours, full of frustration and unsatisfied need.

Reluctantly, Jax leans back. He's trying to hide it, but its too obvious.

The guard, close enough now looks down at him, then back at Jax's face, not even trying to hide his amusement. "Maybe hover for a sec, Teller, unless you want everyone to see how much you enjoyed yourself" he then turns to you, "Say your goodbyes, make it quick" You press in close, feeling every inch of him, it takes everything in him not to groan out loud.

His arms lock around you in a grip that says he’s not ready to let go, not now, not ever. His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, raw and low. "I love you, y/n"

Your fingers dig into his back as you tell him the same.

Meaning every fucking word.

But then his lips brush your jaw “You do that shit again...” his voice drops even lower, pure fucking menace “...I don’t give a fuck where we are, I’ll make you feel me”

Before you can react, he crashes his mouth to yours, the kiss possessive and affectionate. "Enough!" The guards voice booms, He eyes you both up and down "You've had your fucking time to cool down, now get moving!"

And just as quickly, he pulls away, smirking as he strolls back to the doors, another night with you on his mind.

Life's been a constant blur of routine since Jax's been locked up. You've settled into the rhythm of taking care of Abel, making sure he's doing okay at preschool, watching him grow more independent by the day. There's been a lot of quiet nights, just the two of you. Abel watching cartoons while you sneak just the one glass of wine to take the edge off.

Gemma, she's been your rock, though at times it felt more like you were hers. The two of you had become inseparable, laughing over drinks and talking about everything and nothing. You'd never expected to get so close to her, but it felt good to have someone who truly understood the weight of what you were going through.

She sets her drink down, her voice low but direct, how it always is "So, what exactly is going on between you and Jax?"

You freeze for a second, caught off guard. Gemma's been quiet on the subject, never pushing but tonight, she just wants to know.

"I love him Gem..." you admit "…I'm here and I'm waiting for him".

Gemma's quiet for a moment, watching you carefully, but you see the understanding in her eyes "and he loves you too" she smiles.

Tara's still in town, still working at the hospital like nothings changed. You never say a word to each other, just quick glances, the tension thick as fucking smoke. Maybe she knows, maybe she doesn't either way, it doesn't fucking matter.

She's out of Jax's life now, and you aren't going anywhere.

Jax sat hunched on his bunk, the faint hum of the other inmates floating through the cells, the pen heavy in his hands as he tried to find the right words. It’s been just under a year since he’s been locked up.

Just beneath his ‘Abel’ tattoo,fresh, healing scars. Permanent reminders of the shit he’s been going through whilst in here. He finished up writing his letter, marking little pictures in the corners of the paper, this was new to him, he’d never written a letter to you before.

It wasn’t much, it didn’t need to be. He knew you’d understand. Jax pushed the pen down, finishing the letter with his name, before folding it and shoving it in an envelope.

It wasn’t sentimental, but it was real. It was all he had to give from this fucking cage.

He grabbed another sheet, this one dedicated to Abel.

Opie knocked twice before stepping inside, hands shoved in his pockets. Participating in the daily routine, one of the remaining Sons coming to check on you, like fucking clockwork. You were curled up on the coach, one of Jax's hoodies drowning you.

"Nice to see you too, Ope"

He ignored the sarcasm, taking a seat in the armchair across from you. "Gemma said you've been quite these past few days"

You shrugged "So?"

"Not like you" He gave you a concerned look.

"Just tired Ope" you exhale, rubbing your temples.

Opie leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I remember a time when you were just Abel's Nanny, Now you're livin' in Jax's house, wearin' his clothes, visitin' him in Stockton...like an old lady"

You gaze over to him, no words, just a hum in response, gripping the fabric of Jax's hoodie. Old lady The words repeat in your head, fuck, I guess technically, you are. Opie studied you for a long moment, and then finally nodded. "Alright" He stood, "Just dont lose yourself in all this shit" Before he leaves, Opie tosses an envelope onto the coffee table, the edges slightly crinkled. "This came to the clubhouse, but its meant for you" he says, his voice low, not as harsh as before. "From Jax"

You stare at the envelope for a second, Opie doesn't say another word, He gives you a quick look, then he turns to leave, giving you space to open it.

Jax had been in for almost a year now, and in all that time, there hadn't been a single letter. Just the occasional phone calls and visits. It was always you going to him, you waiting by the phone. But this, this was something new.

Photos & gifs used do not belong to me. Apart from being edited, and creating the letter (Well proud of that lol)

For the lovely @bonnyclydecat hope you love it! Ngl, as usual, I got carried away with the smut and feel like the fluff wasn’t enough, so apologies for that lol.

Also, this could deffo have a part 2? Like when Jax gets out of prison??? Alexa play Coal War by Joshua James 🤤🫶🏽

Jax Teller Masterlist

Please continue to send in requests, I’m getting through them one at a time 🖤

xoxo secretly samcro