#soa pairing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hameesstuff · 2 months ago

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"Ink And Ice"

Pairing: Arranged husband ceo! Jaehyun (single dad) x Wife Artist! Reader

Themes: Arranged marriage, slow burn, lots of angsttttt, fluffy end, smut.

Word Count: ~6.2k

Preview: After losing his first wife, Jaehyun swore he'd never open his heart again. After her death, Jaehyun gave all his love to his daughter, guarding his heart from anyone else. Cold and distant, he kept you at arm’s length—until your quiet warmth and love slowly brought him back to life. One argument and night changes everything.

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The Vows You Didn’t Write

The courthouse is silent, cold in its marble expanse. A place where deals are made in signatures, not sentiments. And that’s exactly what today is—a deal. A transaction masked as a wedding.

You're wearing a cream-colored dress, nothing extravagant, but still too soft for the man standing beside you.

Jung Jaehyun.

CEO of Jung Group. A man you’d seen on the news years ago, at charity galas with his late wife. The perfect family. Until she passed away in a tragic accident two years ago, leaving him with their daughter. Since then, he’s worn grief like armor—tailored suits, expensive watches, and a gaze colder than any winter sky.

And now, he’s your husband.

His hand brushes yours when he signs the marriage certificate. No ring. No vows. Just ink.

“You don’t have to do anything you’re uncomfortable with,” he says, voice low, businesslike. “I’ll handle everything.”

You glance up. “Except your daughter.”

That earns the faintest flicker of something behind his eyes. Annoyance? Pain? You can’t tell. He doesn’t answer.

Soa. Five years old. A dimpled smile and big brown eyes that don’t yet understand what losing a mother means. She clung to you the first time you met like she’d known your soul in a past life. You don’t know what you did to earn it, but she loves you already.

And it terrifies you more than marrying a man who doesn’t.

The Guest Room Wife

The mansion is everything you'd expect from Jung Jaehyun—coldly beautiful. Not warm. Not welcoming. White walls, minimalist furniture, the soft hum of silence stretching through every corridor.

You’re shown to a guest room. Not the bedroom. Not his.

“This is where you’ll stay,” Jaehyun says, setting your suitcase down like he’s done it for employees at business trips. “It has a private bath. Soa’s room is just down the hall.”

You nod. “I’m not here to make things complicated.”

He pauses at the door. “Good.”

That night, you unpack in silence. You take out your paints even though he never asked what you do, what you love. You work with your hands—canvas, color, emotion. He works with numbers, walls, and contracts.

You barely see him.

But Soa? She starts appearing everywhere.

At breakfast, climbing onto your lap.

At night, asking for one more story, her tiny fingers curling around yours.

In the mornings, waiting outside your door like you’re the sun rising just for her.

And with every laugh, every question she throws your way, your heart sinks deeper. You weren’t supposed to care this much.

One night, she holds your hand and whispers, “You smell like Mommy used to.”

You don’t cry. Not then. But you do later, alone, in the dark room Jaehyun gave you.

Dinner for Three

The first time you all sit down together is a week after the wedding.

A silent dinner table. Glass and granite. A bottle of wine unopened between you. Jaehyun scrolls through something on his phone while Soa chatters about a butterfly drawing she made in school.

“I told my teacher my new mommy paints better than anyone,” she says proudly.

Jaehyun’s hand stills on the screen.

You glance at him, unsure if he’ll correct her.

He doesn’t.

“That’s sweet, Soa,” you reply softly, your voice barely breaking through the weight of the silence.

Later, as you help clean up, you ask Jaehyun quietly, “You’re uncomfortable when she calls me that, aren’t you?”

His jaw tenses. “She barely remembers her real mother. I don’t want her attaching too quickly to—”

“To me,” you finish, sharper than you intended.

He turns then. His gaze pins you to the spot. Cold. Controlled. “To anyone she could lose.”

You understand, but it still hurts.

Because no matter how kind you are, how careful, he’s already decided you’re temporary.

Ink on His Desk

You never meant to leave the painting there.

It was just a sketch—quick, raw, done late one night after Soa fell asleep on your lap. Her curled body in a blanket, one hand clinging to your shirt. You drew her in seconds, as if your hands remembered a pose from another lifetime.

You left it on the kitchen counter.

But in the morning, it’s gone.

And that afternoon, you see it on Jaehyun’s desk—framed.

He doesn’t mention it. Doesn’t look at you. Just signs documents with precise strokes as if nothing in the world has shifted.

But it has.

Because for the first time, your art is in his world. In the center of it. And that means something.

The Argument

It starts with something stupid.

You ask if he’ll be late again—Soa’s been asking for him every night, falling asleep near the front door.

He says, “My daughter is not your responsibility.”

You stare at him. “She is now. Whether you like it or not.”

Jaehyun looks up, cold. “I didn’t ask for this marriage. And neither did she.”

You step forward, voice low and shaking. “Then why marry me at all? Just to have someone warm your guest room and pretend you’re still functioning?”

That cracks something.

His voice rises—not loud, but furious. “Because my mother wouldn't stop. Because Soa needed someone. Because I needed a body beside mine to make everyone think I was still alive. Is that what you want to hear?”

You breathe in through your teeth. “You’re a coward, Jaehyun.”

“And you—” he steps closer, eyes burning, “—you’re a dreamer who walked into hell thinking you could paint over the fire.”

You whisper, “I wasn’t trying to fix you. I just wanted to be seen.”

The silence after is louder than anything.

Then, finally, he whispers back, hoarse: “I see you.”

And he walks out.

But something has changed.

Because this time, he doesn’t slam the door.

The Shift

The next week is different.

Jaehyun comes home earlier. Watches Soa paint beside you on the balcony. Asks questions about your gallery work. Not often. Just a few. But they land heavily.

One night, he stands in the doorway while you read to Soa. Doesn’t say anything. Just… stays.

When Soa is asleep, you pass him in the hall. Neither of you speak. But your hands brush.

Dinner Scene – The Breaking Point

The long dining table was filled with idle chatter, wine glasses clinking, and laughter that felt too forced to be real. You sat quietly beside Jaehyun, his expression unreadable as he scrolled through his phone between half-hearted bites.

Across the table, Minho—Jaehyun’s cousin—hadn’t stopped running his mouth since you’d arrived. His comments were laced with mockery, each one digging deeper beneath your skin.

"So," Minho began again, swirling the red wine in his glass, his eyes fixed shamelessly on you, "how’s the art world treating you? Still painting... flowers and naked women, or just your own reflection these days?”

You froze, your hand gripping the fork a little tighter.

Minho leaned forward, voice dropping to something too smooth, too smug. “Can’t lie, though. The idea of you covered in paint, messy and bare… now that’s a portrait I wouldn’t mind seeing up close.”

The table fell silent. Even the air seemed to still.

Jaehyun looked up slowly, and for a moment, no one moved. Then, without a word, he stood. The chair screeched back violently, and in two long strides, he was across the table.

“Jaehyun—” someone gasped.

He grabbed Minho by the collar and shoved him hard against the wall with a thud. Dishes clattered. Soa flinched where she sat. Shock rippled through the room.

Jaehyun’s voice was deadly low, face inches from his cousin’s. “You ever speak to her like that again, I swear to God—”

“Jae,” you said softly, standing now, your voice breaking through the haze of his fury. “Let him go. Please.”

His chest rose and fell rapidly, jaw tight, hand still fisted in Minho’s shirt. You reached him slowly, gently placing your hand on his arm. “You don’t need to do this. I’m okay. Come back.”

His eyes finally flicked to you—stormy, tormented, and wide with something unspoken. His grip loosened, and Minho slid down the wall, coughing.

Jaehyun didn’t say a word. He just turned, hand brushing against yours for a fleeting second, and walked out of the room.

The house had finally gone quiet. Soa had fallen asleep curled into her blanket, clutching the stuffed bunny you painted flowers on months ago. Jaehyun had kissed her forehead gently, lingering longer than usual, as if needing her peace to steady the storm still curling in his chest.

When he stepped into the bedroom, he found you sitting on the edge of the bed, your robe loose around you, eyes tired and pained.

“I scared you,” he said, voice hoarse. “And I scared her. I—I lost control.”

You didn’t speak, only looked up at him, your silence a gentle kind of patience that made his throat tighten.

He walked over, dropped to his knees in front of you, and pressed his forehead to your stomach.

“I hated myself tonight,” he whispered. “For letting that bastard talk about you like you were nothing. For pretending like I didn’t care, when the truth is—I can’t stand the idea of anyone looking at you the way he did. I’ve been running from this… from you. But you’re the only thing that’s felt real since her. Since everything broke.”

Your fingers slipped into his hair as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you like he was afraid you’d vanish.

“I see you,” you whispered. “Even when you hide. Even when you push me away.”

He looked up at you, eyes shining with something vulnerable and raw. “Do you still want me? After how I’ve been?”

You leaned down, kissed him softly—an answer he didn’t deserve but one you gave anyway.

He rose, cupped your cheeks with shaking hands, and kissed you again, slower this time. With trembling reverence. It wasn’t rushed or desperate. It was quiet, gentle… like worship.

“Let me love you tonight,” he said, voice breaking. “As my wife. Not a contract. Not a convenience. Just… mine.”

Clothes were discarded in silence, not in heat but in need—skin to skin, breath to breath. He held you like you were fragile and fierce all at once. His lips brushed your shoulder, your chest, your belly, lingering over every inch of you as though memorizing the story you carried beneath your skin.

When he slid inside you, it wasn’t hurried. It was a sigh, a homecoming. You gasped his name softly, hands clutching his back as he moved with you—slow, steady, grounding.

“I see you,” he whispered into your neck. “I want all of you. The stubbornness, the paint-stained fingers, the warmth you gave Soa when I was too afraid to feel. You are my family now.”

Your eyes filled with tears, and he kissed them away as he moved deeper inside you, every thrust heavy with emotion, with gratitude, with aching love he no longer knew how to contain.

When you fell apart beneath him, trembling, your eyes locked with his—and he followed with a gasp, like a man letting go of grief in the arms of someone who brought him back to life.

Later, curled against him beneath the blankets, your head on his chest, he played with your fingers in silence. Then he whispered, “You were never just someone who walked into my life.”

You looked up.

“You’re the reason it started again.”

And when you fell asleep in his arms, you felt it for the first time—not just desire. Not even just love.

You felt chosen.

Morning After

The morning sun spilled quietly through the curtains, casting a golden glow across the room. You stirred slowly, sore in the most tender way, muscles aching with the memory of how Jaehyun had held you—how he’d loved you like he was finally ready to feel again.

Your hand reached across the sheets instinctively and found him still there.

Jaehyun lay on his side, facing you, eyes already open, watching you like he still couldn’t believe you were real. His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Didn’t sleep,” he murmured. “Just… didn’t want to miss it. Waking up like this. With you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You look tired.”

“I feel…” he searched for the word. “Clean. Like something broke open and I can breathe again.”

Your fingers traced the edge of his jaw, thumb brushing the faint shadows beneath his eyes. “You’re allowed to rest now, Jaehyun.”

His hand slid beneath the blanket, settling on your belly. “Soa has been calling you ‘Mom’ more lately,” he whispered. “She’s never done that with anyone else.”

You blinked, your throat tightening. “She’s… she’s everything to me.”

“I know.” He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips—soft, slow, sacred. “That’s why I love you.”

The bedroom door creaked open just then, and Soa peeked in, her bunny clutched to her chest.

“Daddy?” she whispered.

Jaehyun sat up slightly. “Come here, baby.”

She scrambled in, crawling up between you, curling into your side like she’d always belonged there. Her small hand reached for yours—and then rested gently on your belly.

“Morning, Mommy,” she said sleepily.

You didn’t correct her.

Jaehyun wrapped his arm around both of you, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head and then yours.

And in that still, sacred silence, with your family wrapped around you, nothing else in the world mattered.

Epilogue:

You watched Jaehyun play with Soa in the living room. The little girl, now six years old, was laughing as Jaehyun lifted her high into the air, her giggles filling the room and making your heart swell. Soa had grown so much in the years since she’d come into your life, and you couldn’t help but feel grateful for how seamlessly she had accepted you as her mother.

Jaehyun glanced over at you, his eyes soft with affection, before he made his way toward you. He knelt beside the couch, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple before resting his hand on your belly. "How’s our little one doing?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness.

You smiled up at him, feeling the baby kick softly beneath your skin. "I think they’re just as excited to meet you as you are," you said with a laugh.

Soa sat beside you on the couch, her small hand gently pressed against your belly. “Hi, baby!” she whispered, her eyes wide with excitement. “I can feel you moving!”

Jaehyun chuckled from across the room, watching the heartwarming scene. “She’s already got her big sister skills down,” he said, sitting beside you.

With a laugh, you leaned against Jaehyun, watching Soa talk to the baby with all the love in her heart. It felt like the beginning of something beautiful—a new chapter, full of laughter and family. A new beginning.

The End.

Feedback is welcome ;)

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twilightau · 4 months ago

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LOVE VIRUS; L.DH

synopsis — after a fateful encounter with a mysterious resident, you decide to follow his example and became a nurse, just to get the chance to see him again. romance, fate-like moments, you expected a lot from your first meeting after many years... just to find out he is the most insufferable jerk!

genres — first love au, co-workers-to-lovers, doctor au

pairing — lee donghyuck x fem!reader

warnings — language, mentions of death, incorrect medical descriptions, accidentally attempted suicide, sharp objects, medical setting

word count — 7,6k

[ ♡ previous part. ] — [ ♡ next part. ]

Nobody liked the ending of things. Everyone liked beginning something believing or hoping it would help them reach a specific place. Still, that certainty stops once you get the spot you only dreamt about.

Endings were never your think. Everyone liked beginnings, it meant starting on a dream, creating hope, believing in a certain goal. But it all halts it's fairytale-like meaning when you don't know what to begin with.

High school ended in less than eight days, and you were wasting time with your girlfriends in the streets of Seoul, none of you with any ambitions for the future. All you could think of was which bars to sneak into and how to convince a tired convenience store employee on midnight duty to give you a pack of cigarettes for cheaper.

Uncertainty scared you, but it was so damn frustrating to find a career path that suited you. You weren’t the smartest in class, you hated numbers, you were far from the most athletic, and frankly speaking, you hated studying in general. No one was going to accept a student with a bad rep anyway, even though most of the bad doings were done by your friends, you were just merely a bystander.

But what will you become if you cannot find the right path in time?

These wandering thoughts and ‘what ifs' were eating away at your sanity. Your drunk friend waved at you, signing you to another night of drinking all your insecurities away. You smiled at her, about to join the group when you heard a loud clatter behind you. A small elder who was collecting cartons onto his little cart fell to the ground, his frame getting smaller with each bathed breath you took.

You didn't know how you crossed the road in seconds. Your heart was still racing while you asked the elder if he was alright. You could still hear the ringing in your ear while you told him to follow your breathing pattern. He tried to grasp for something inside the cart, you leaped forward to find his bag hanging on the handle of the cart. But it was too late, the man was already out cold on the ground.

If what you felt before was anxiety, you are now in full worry. “Sir, can you hear me? Please answer me if you can?” You heard his breathing but it started to sound more labored by the second. You searched his bag for any indication but found two unfamiliar types of medicine. You were not a pre-med student and stood frozen at the realization that you did not know how to help this elder.

“Someone help! This man collapsed on the ground!” You yelled into the empty streets of Seoul at twilight. Everyone was busy zombie-ing themselves to a restaurant or club to relieve stress, the working class could not afford to save another person but themselves. You kept shouting for help, feeling the man’s pulse weakening. The sight was making your heartache.

“Are you alright?” You heard from your left, you nodded before taking the outstretched hand without looking, pulling the person down with you to observe the elder. He didn’t seem to mind, immediately getting to work. “Okay, what happened?” You told him how you found him and how long you have stayed and watched his condition.

The stranger starts looking around, grabbing the elder’s bag and rummaging through his things as if looking for specific items. It is the first time you look at the stranger, and you realize it is a handsome stranger.

The points of his curly brown hair are slightly darker, soaked in sweat as if he came running. His nose had a soft round tip and his lips were upturned, a wide cupid’s bow engraved in his upper lip. You almost start counting the moles on his face before you realize what he might be looking for.

“A-are you looking for these?” Your outstretched hands contain the two unknown tubes of medicine. The stranger looks relieved and nods. He opens the cap and you realize it is a needle instead of a pod of pills. He stabs it into the leg of the elder with a force that shocks you, but his smile reassures you ever so slightly.

“Can you call an ambulance? The number is on that utility pole, I think–” He looks at the medication bottle for a second, “Mister Hwang is going to be just fine, don’t worry.” You nod, but your hands still tremble, the adrenaline leaving your body. The stranger holds you still, “You did well. Mister Hwang is going to be okay thanks to you.” He gave you a warm smile and patted your head encouragingly.

When the ambulance arrived, the stranger took over the situation entirely. “Hello, my name is Lee Donghyuck. Please go to Neo-Seoul Medical Center, I’m a 2nd-year resident there.” The paramedic nodded and Haechan hopped onto the vehicle behind the stretcher. You watched as the back doors closed and the car drove away, the whole scene leaving you in awe.

The words he had spoken to you were still replaying in your mind, slowly woven into your heart like a design into a sweater that cannot be removed. For the first time in your life, you did not screw something up, you helped save a human and you succeeded. Haechan and the ambulance were long gone by now, but it was almost like the trail it left behind was highlighted in gold; you had found your career path in life thanks to him.

♡

Neo-Seoul Medical Center was one of the most prestigious university hospitals in all of South Korea. Standing in front of a hospital to start your career was unimaginable for you five years ago. And if it depended on your GPA back then, you’d have never been able to start a medical career at all. It helped that you had good study buddies who helped you with the selection exams as well as teachers who truly saw your good qualities behind all the natural clumsiness you radiated.

You smiled at the building once more before Chenle called your name, telling you to hurry up before you got late for your introduction week. He was one of the few close friends you made during nursing school. He was similar in the way he always went beyond for the people he cared for, but unlike you, he doesn’t always act on his emotions.

Your introduction group consists of two other rookie nurses: Ningning and Sion. You weren’t familiar with the two, but it wasn’t unknown that Yizhou was the top student during your years in nursing school.

The receptionist pointed your group towards the eleventh floor where a head nurse would appoint you each to a department.

Once the elevator door opened, you were met by an administrative nurse who told you to wait a bit. The LED screen above the reception showed that there were several surgeries being performed right now. Your eyes widened at a familiar name between them.

Lead surgeon – Lee Donghyuck – General Surgery 00:02:10:37

He has not left this hospital despite all these years. A small smile creeps up your face. Ever since you decided to study nursing, you had secretly wondered if you’d ever get to work with him. The image of the two of you rushing to help patients always helped you ground yourself while preparing for another practical exam.

A familiar mop of dark brown curls passed your daydreaming state and you were quick to react. His scent, his hair, his soft features, and his moles; it was just like you remember. You start to realize that he hasn’t moved, your hands unbeknownst to you holding onto the sleeve of his dark blue scrubs. He looks at you with confusion, about to speak but you beat him to it, almost in a hurry to tell him everything you wanted to him all these years before you lose your courage.

“Dr. Donghyuck, I– I’m so glad to see you again. Thanks to your help, I was able to see the path before me and worked hard for the past 5 years to get here. I am so happy to be able to enter the same hospital as you and look up to you as–” He holds up a hand, making you stop mid-sentence. He raises a brow and makes a clicking sound with his tongue.

“Listen, I don’t have time for this right now.” He looks at your badge and then your fellow rookie nurses behind you. “You are the new rookie?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes before continuing, “Okay. Listen up, you guys, too. Do not ask stupid questions that you could have studied beforehand, do not waste doctor’s time, and –,” he looked straight at you, “Do not talk to me unless necessary. I’ve got better things to do.” You let go of his sleeve, your cheeks heating up with embarrassment and anger. Who the hell does this jerk think he is?

“Seems the rookies have met our fellow Donghyuck” A female voice states, you look to your left to find a woman in purple scrubs next to your group. “Hello rookies, my name is Karina Yu. I’m the head nurse of the emergency department and your temporary mentor while you do the rotations. Now get out your little notepads, write down everything I’m telling you, and make sure to ask if something is unclear. The emergency department isn’t a place that goes slow and steady, if you notice something you must be fast on your feet and react quickly. Understood?”

“Yes ma’am!”

“Nurse Karina is fine, by the way.” She smiled kindly before it dropped and she started to walk and talk like it was a military drill.

♡

“Okay, this is our weekly schedule board. We have it digitally but since the emergency department is about always being on the move, it would be too troublesome to have someone look it up every seven minutes. I added some ID pictures so you guys can easily distinguish which surgeon and doctor is who.

This is Lee Mark, he is a cardiac surgeon who often handles emergency cases since he just recently switched to CS from GS. The cardiology department is on the eighth floor, but you will find him in the doctor’s room of our department more often. If you have any questions, go to him and he will answer them in detail for you.

This fellow is Lee Donghyuck, he is from general surgery and the main surgeon you will work with here. Liu Yangyang is also a fellow GS specialist and the other surgeon you will meet the most often. Both the general surgery specialists are quite strict and meticulous in their work and it shows in the way that they will hold you accountable for any mistake you make. Remember, this is not nursing school anymore, you passed your exam: now it is real.

“Yes, earlier you mentioned we will start rotations in the ER. Do all four of us start in the ER?” You ask, trying not to get too embarrassed by your little stutter.

“No, from the spreadsheet I received only nurse Yizhou and Y/N will start in the ER. Nurse Chenle will assist Dr. Lee Mark in cardiology and Nurse Sion will join neurology and assist Dr. Qian Kun until the further rotation. The four of you will rotate around cardiology, neurology, and emergency as you have chosen these preferences. Of course, if in any case, those three departments end up not befitting your best qualities, you can apply for any of the other departments you want to try out. After your introductory period, you can decide which department you want to join.” The four of you nod at Karina’s words.

“The surgeons in our team seem to be young, do we not have any senior doctors in our team on site?” Ningning asks. Unlike the way you asked your question, Yizhou remains cool and focused, her hands writing down everything she hears while her eyes are trained on everything Karina points out.

“Good question, we do have young surgeons because they are exceptionally good and adaptive to the always-changing situations in the ER. Do not let their age fool you, Mark has already finished his fellowship and is only a humble step away from his next promotion. Haechan and Yangyang are both in their last stretches as well and have gained enough trust from the Chief of General Surgery dr. Kim Doyoung to work independently on ER cases while our emergency surgeon Dr. Lee Taeyong is on leave.”

♡

The soft melody of a random R&B song plays in the living room while you clean the fog of your mirror. You look at your tired reflection, but muster up the energy to smile back at yourself. As much as today went by fairly peacefully, you can’t shake off the unfortunate encounter with Dr. Donghyuck. Was five years enough time to change an entire personality, or did your young and naive self paint him in a light he was never meant to be seen in?

“Y/N, where did you put the remote? I swear you never place it back at our designated spot!” Winter complains, already in the doorway of your shared bathroom to give you an earful about designated spots for shared items. But every word she planned to say dies down when she sees your face.

“Y/N? Is something wrong? Didn’t your first day go well?” She takes your hand and leads you to the couch, two cups of warm tea already on the coffee table. “What happened?” She asks after you haven’t answered her first question.

“It’s nothing. Just some nerves” You try to shrug it off, but your roommate keeps staring at you with suspicion.

“Babe, as a third-year nurse, I have already honed the ability to sense lies whenever I ask my patients about medication. I don’t want to play nurse when I’m at home as well. So spill, what is upsetting little spring sunshine?” You crack a small smile at the nickname; your overexcitement on the first day of moving in made the apartment owner laugh, she said a little spring sunshine will move in with the resident winter princess. Since then, Winter and you have started to call each other those nicknames to become more comfortable with each other as roommates and friends.

“Remember why I joined nursing school in the first place?” You asked, looking down at your takeout and poking in it with your fork. “Yeah, you fell in love with a resident and wanted to become a nurse so you could work beside him,” Winter answered breezily, slurping a long strand of noodle loudly as she looked for you to continue.

“Don’t make it sound like I’m doing all this over a crush! I truly got inspired to get into this work field!”

“Was anything I said false though?” You didn’t answer. “Point proven.”

"Anyway!" You try to continue the subject so the two of you won’t go down that tangent. “I met him today and he became a completely different person. I’m not saying I expected him to be 100% the same, but it is kind of sad that I couldn’t find traces of the guy who inspired me in him anymore.” Winter hums, putting the plastic fork to her lips.

“Hold up, you met him today? If you were in intro group four…and you start rotation in the ER…” Minjeong taps the crease between her brows, trying to piece the strings of information together. After a few moments of silence, she gasps at the realization.

“Your first love is Lee Donghyuck isn’t it?” You nod, the burdened expression on your roommate’s face unsettles you. “You look at me like I made a big mistake, is he in a relationship or something?”

“No,” You felt relieved for some stupid reason. “But Donghyuck isn’t exactly the type of guy I imagined you being into. I thought you meant Mark Lee when you first talked about your crush.”

“What’s wrong with Donghyuck?”

“I want to say it’s a rumor, but I saw it firsthand once with a rookie nurse a few years ago. A nurse quit after just a week because Donghyuck gave him a hard time. Be perfect or he will lecture you until you’re about to hand in your resignation letter.” You pale at your roommate’s words, deeply regretting every course of action you took today, including entering the hospital. “But I’m sure it’s just a facade, so don’t lose hope yet!” She tries to cheer you up, but it is already too late. You have dug your own grave.

♡

As if the gods wanted to mess with you for a bit, you were assigned to assist Donghyuck’s patients. To say your first week went bad was an understatement. Karina was right when she said Donghyuck has a low tolerance for questions he gets annoyed at anything relatively quickly.

On your second day shadowing him, you noticed that he had long legs. Legs that do not wait for you and your cart to keep up. He gave you a side-eye when you eventually arrived at the right room, you also got lost because he didn’t wait up.

(“If this were an emergency alarm, the patient might have already died. Keep your head in the game, dreamer.” He mockingly taps his writing clipboard against your cart before turning around and smiling brightly at his patients. You feel like you were fuming from the ears at his act.)

On your fourth day in, you discovered a little hiding area where you could take a break without Donghyuck throwing mean remarks at you. You figured, if he can’t find you, he can’t talk bad about you.

The little box of cookies you found in a drawer was already half gone once you heard two people enter the room, a small curtain separating you from them.

“Dude, I think that Nurse Y/N might have a crush on you!” Dr. Liu said with excitement. It has been a while since romance blossomed for his friend and the littlest indication that it might happen again made him happy.

Donghyuck raised his brow, “Who?”, and Yangyang’s smile drowned away. He doesn’t even know your name? “Nurse Y/N, she is – dude?" Donghyuck shakes his head. “For real? The nurse who has been assisting you for the past four days?”

“Oh, the dreamer. I doubt she’d have a crush on me.” Maybe it was because you couldn’t see his face, but your delusion might have caught a bit of a somber tone in his voice.

“Besides, the chances of something happening between me and her is 0.00001%. Any other rookie might even be better than her.” Lee Donghyuck has proven once again that he is hard to empathize with.

(“Have you seen my chocobi cookies, by the way? I was planning on eating them but I couldn’t find them in my snack drawer.”)

You finished his nasty cookies with no regrets.

Your fifth day came around and you were doing your rounds without Donghyuck, the doctor was yet to return from a four-hour surgery and thus you ended up doing the rounds with Mark.

Although Mark was a bit too much of a talker, it was a nice change of pace compared to the GS specialist who criticized your every move.

“You just have to look through the words,” Mark said after he finally made you share your worries with him. The two of you already arrived at the third room for the current check-up round.

“I’d rather not look straight into his eyes. If looks could kill, I wouldn’t have made it past day one, dr. Lee” You slide open the door and greet the patients warmly. In the room were four patients from a traffic accident that happened on your second day. Because it happened late at night, Mark was already scheduled for a long surgery for pediatrics, causing Donghyuck to do back-to-back surgeries on these four patients.

Minnie, a high school girl, greeted the two of you with a timid smile, her eyes lingered longer on Mark before meeting yours again.

“Dr. Donghyuck is currently occupied, so Dr. Lee Mark over here is guiding me today.” You explained to the girl, the feeling that she might have a crush on Donghyuck was unbelievable but also kind of cute.

“She has been waiting to thank him since yesterday evening.” Riku, a college student, commented, earning a glare from the girl which caused him to laugh. You hum while prepping Mrs. Choi for a blood sample. After you finish filling two small tubes for the tests, she signals you to come closer.

“Dr. Donghyuck allowed her boyfriend to visit her yesterday, even though visiting hours were already over. The academy hours these days cause students to finish their studies at late hours.” You look back at Minnie, noticing a singular rose in a tiny vase next to a small teddy bear on her nightstand. The scene reminds you of a sweet youth drama.

“How is your appetite, Mrs. Choi? I noticed you didn’t eat much the last few days, if you want, I can alternate a few things on your menu plan to help get your appetite back?” The older woman softly shakes her head. “No need, the doctor gave me some stomach medicine yesterday. I feel much better now.”

Although you added a small comment about Mrs. Choi’s appetite into your nurse log before you clocked out for the evening, you didn’t expect Donghyuck to take the note as seriously as he did. Writing up medicine for patients always required a lot more paperwork, and your seniors in nursing always recommended trying to minimize the prescriptions doctors had to make.

“I’m glad it is working out, Mrs. Choi. Let me know if you need me to adjust anything, alright?” The lady smiled before turning to Mark. “The other doctor and nurse Y/N make such an interesting duo, don’t you think? They remind me of my first love.” You were already halfway through the room to check on the last patient, the comment made you stop in your tracks a second too long. Mark laughs, “What was your first love like Mrs. Choi? I wonder how Donghyuck and Y/N compare to it.”

You try to focus on the teenager’s stats, Jisoo is also seemingly intrigued by what Mrs. Choi has to say about her first love and late husband.

“We were like opposites. Chan was always driven by his ambitions, he never knew when to stop and enjoy the slow and steadiness of the world. After we met, he used to tell me how I re-taught him how to live life.” Mrs. Choi’s gaze was fixed on the window, but you knew that she was also holding back tears, it was evident in the way she spoke about her late husband.

You finish up Jisoo’s check-up before returning to Mrs. Choi’s bedside, squatting down and giving her hand a gentle squeeze. “He sounds like a love worth spending a lifetime with, Mrs. Choi.” Her gaze turns to you and you can see the glossiness of her eyes. “Thank you.” She whispers before lying down again, Mark and you bid the other patients goodbye before leaving the room.

“You handled that situation well, nurse Y/N,” Mark says after a beat of silence. You give him a sad smile, “She lost so much in the past few days, dr. Lee. If I can lighten that pain for even a moment, I will.”

“You live up to that speech dr. Nakamoto gave on your second day, huh?” You smile, thinking back at the random visit of the pediatrician. He was looking for a specific person (you later figured that person to be Mark) but got thrust into giving the rookie nurses a motivational speech by nurse Jaemin.

(“I don’t think I’m in any position to give a speech, dr. Na.” Yuta eyed the nurses with an awkward laugh, making Jaemin, the ER doctor, challenge him further. “These nurses will rotate into your department soon, anyway. Besides, I doubt you’d come all the way down from the tenth floor to disturb us in our busiest hours, right Dr. Nakamoto?”)

Doctors treat illnesses, nurses heal patients.

Although he probably said those words without much thought behind them, you found new meaning behind those words. Sure, ever since working with Donghyuck, many of your rather superficial motivations disappeared into thin air. But Dr. Nakamoto’s words were a good reminder that Donghyuck wasn’t your only reason.

It’s patients like Mrs. Choi, those who don’t only suffer bodily injury or illness, but also have a wound to the heart that needs healing. The surgical scars will eventually fade, but without genuine and continued support and care, a patient might carry painful memories for a long time. To you, soothing their hearts for even a moment was a reward worthy of suffering through the nursing program, and even Dr. Donghyuck’s never-ending remarks.

♡

The taste of Winter’s cooking was one you could never quite get enough of, the girl was always in her element in the kitchen and it was evident in her food. Tonight you were also accompanied by Karina. Although you already knew Winter had invited a friend over, it didn’t quite dawn upon you that the nurse friend she mentioned from time to time was going to be the head nurse of your department. The awkwardness from your greetings earlier still lingers ever so slightly in the back of your head, but you try to pay it no mind. It did help that none of you talked about work, rather giggling away with every sip of wine as you talked about your college adventures.

“You know, I think you will do well in the ER, Y/N. If you can handle someone as cold as Donghyuck, I don’t doubt that even the most enraged Karen will get to you.” Karina says in between hiccups. Winter is already leaning on her arm, slowly drifting off with occasional mumbles while Karina keeps rambling on about random thoughts she has.

You weren’t a heavy drinker, but luckily Winter had opted for wine (the two women had already finished a few shots of soju before you came home) which you were able to handle.

“I think Donghyuck truly has a stick up his ass like he knows the ER is heavily understaffed and yet he is driving any nurse he sees away.” Karina huffs, another large gulp of red wine.

“It’s one thing to feel entitled because you’re a good doctor, but it’s another to assume every nurse to be at that level from the start, right Y/N?” You try to pry the wine glass away from her hands, but she downs the entire glass before you can.

“Karina, are you going to be okay?” You watch as she stands up and points her finger at the decorative succulent on your dining table. “This plant is dying, it’s withering away.” It was a fake plant.

“I will call a cab for you, Karina. Where do you live?” The woman seems to acknowledge the time and her condition, already stumbling into your hallway to grab her shoes. You follow behind her with her belongings. She laughs a little too loud at your questions and points upstairs. “I’m alright, Y/N. I’m your upstairs neighbor!” She chirps happily as she spreads her arms in the air before blacking out. Great.

The trip is anything but easy: the elevator decides to take everyone else to their respective floors before arriving at the sixth floor, and of course, Karina keeps wiggling in your hold while the other residents keep side-eyeing you in your pajamas.

Since she didn’t quite tell you which unit she lived in, you had to walk past each front door like a creep with Karina’s arms nearly killing your neck. None of the unit numbers 601-604 had her surname on it. You were praying that you didn’t have to go all the way down the hall to unit 610 before you finally read her name underneath unit number 605, right next to Lee Donghyuck’s name.

You froze, trying to process what this meant, but Karina had already woken up and was loudly banging on the front door of unit 605. You were torn between leaving her here, but she didn’t quite look sober enough to stand steadily.

The door opens after a few loud bangs from Karina, an annoyed – nothing new there – Donghyuck opens the door. His hair was damp and he was wearing grey sweats and a black shirt, a towel around his neck, and black-framed glasses adorning his face – definitely new. It takes everything in you to not admit he looks like a cute nerd in those glasses.

He was about to hurl a mean comment. At this point, you are pro at recognizing this. Donghyuck stops when his eyes settle on you. He raises a brow, and you only reply to his wordless questions with a sheepish smile.

“Your girlfriend had dinner over at our place, sorry. I put some hangover medicine in the pocket of her jacket for her to take in the morning. See you tomorrow, Dr. Lee!” And you ran away, accidentally pushing Karina into Donghyuck’s arms, but you weren’t going to stay there a second longer than needed.

Even though you thought you were pretty sure that you didn’t like Donghyuck anymore, the new information that he lived upstairs with his girlfriend still left a bitter taste in your mouth.

♡

You were transferring your notes into the nurse logs when Karina entered your little cubicle. “Hey Y/N, are you busy?” You shake your head, moving to the side so the head nurse can comfortably stand in your little workspace.

“Normally I wouldn’t talk about personal affairs during working hours, but I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I was upset at my boyfriend and when Winter said the two of you were going to stay at home and just casually drink, I couldn’t help but ask to join. I needed some company for a bit.” She starts to explain, and you start to notice that drunk Karina and sober Karina aren’t much different.

The scary image of head nurse Karina fades away as you watch her ramble, animatedly making her points with her facial expressions and hands. You smile at the sight, realizing the subtle cuteness of Karina’s true character. “It’s okay, nurse Karina. We all have ups and downs in relationships.” Karina shyly nods, “I also have a little request to make.” You let her continue.

“Please don’t tell our colleagues about Donghyuck and I living together, it’s embarrassing.” Although you were confused as to why it would be embarrassing, you promised her you wouldn’t tell a soul. She gives you a grateful smile before her pager goes off. Before you turn back fully to focus on your logs again, Karina calls your name. “You can just call me Karina when we are alone. I think we are way past the formalities after what happened.”

Karina disappears behind the doors and your polite smile falters slightly. You wonder why Winter and Mark didn’t warn you about the relationship between Karina and Donghyuck, feeling stupid that you were so open about your admiration for the man in front of people who knew he was already off the market.

It wasn’t like you were full-on pursuing him, but it does hurt to know that his type and you were so far off, evidently marking that 0.00001% to be true. Karina was extremely pretty, smart, and good at her job. Sure, she was a rambler and loud drunk, but she easily carried herself in confidence.

A soft cough pulls you back from your thoughts. Donghyuck leans against the wall, handing you his clipboard. “I saw you were filling out the logs, can you upload this chart to Riku’s profile?” You wordlessly take the papers and start typing, expecting him to leave after he says what he needs, but you don’t hear any footsteps. Before you can ask, he starts speaking again.

“She’s my cousin.” His words were rushed and Maeda Riku’s chart had already taken most of your attention, making the only sound coming out of your mouth a confused ‘huh?’.

“Karina, she is my cousin. I’m not dating anyone. That’s what I wanted to tell you yesterday before you ran off.” If someone told you you would see an awkward Donghyuck less than two weeks into the job, you wouldn’t believe them. The man had a sharp tongue and – just like his cousin – carried himself with certainty, attitude, and incredible skills that steadily established his dominance in the department. But for some unknown reason, he was avoiding eye contact and fumbling with something in his pockets in front of you.

“Oh.”

“I gave her the hangover cure, it helped.” He added after way too many seconds, still fumbling with his white coat pocket. You give him a weak smile, not knowing how to act in this strange situation. The air was not tense like it usually was, but it was far from comfortable.

“I got you the same one.” His hands were too fast, but the bottle on your desk and his empty pockets prove that he had been fumbling with the hangover medicine all this time.

“Thank you…” The act of kindness (?) made you speechless.

“You were reaching for your head a few times while doing rounds. It’s disturbing my work and the patients. If you can’t handle alcohol, don’t drink.” And the Lee Donghyuck you knew has ruined the moment again.

“I don’t think I deserve scolding when your cousin ended up like that.” Your remark earned a half-hearted scoff from him. You hated the way your heart started beating like your younger self again.

“Just drink it and get ready to join me for your OR testing.”

♡

The biting winter air felt like tiny pricks against your exposed skin, but you remained seated on the cold wooden bench while hugging your bottle of water tightly. Your OR testing didn’t go wrong, but it didn’t go smoothly either.

It wasn’t necessarily what Donghyuck said, but it was the way that he said those words to you in a room filled with your peers and other colleagues. He was complaining about how handling different tools wasn’t just about speed, but also about precision, how you were too hasty and could cause dangerous accidents. How he wouldn’t tolerate it if it were to happen in his OR and how you weren’t going in there anywhere soon.

It hurts that just when you finished painting him as an awful person, he started to make you doubt him again, causing his words to twist as painfully as they were the first few days as his assisting nurse.

You weren’t a big fan of crying, it felt like losing control over your feelings, but you couldn’t help it when you’re so deep into your self-pity party.

“Nurse Y/N?” The voice of an uncertain Minnie makes you look up, staring into the eyes of an equally teary-eyed teenage girl. You try to wipe away your tears in a hurry to attend to the girl, but she just hands you a handkerchief with a sympathetic smile.

“You know, crying does make everything a bit better, don’t you think?” She asks through a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. You breathe in some more air, feeling better despite being spotted by one of your patients. The two of you don’t say much at first, sitting in a comfortable silence while staring at the few white dots in your pitch-black sky.

“Boys are stupid.” She suddenly says, catching you off guard.

“Why would you say that?”

“They just are, I think girls cry more often because of them than any other reason.” She explains nonchalantly, making you grin at your words.

“Can’t disagree on that.” You mumble.

After a while, you returned inside to finish one last welfare round before switching out with the night shift nurses. You greet Karina as you pass the nurse station, she holds you back by your arm. “I had a word with Donghyuck about what happened during testing, are you alright?” Admittedly, you were still a bit mad at his choice of actions, but you couldn’t blame him for correcting you on something you did wrong.

“I will get over it, but thank you for looking out for me.” You grabbed your necessities and walked through the dimmed hospital corridors, making your way quietly through the resting areas of your patients. Most were already asleep, some mumbled soft words while you gently checked their stats and some even bid you a good night before turning around to sleep.

Once you made your way into room 4, you expected Minnie to have returned when you opened your curtain, but her bed was still empty. You frown, remembering how she mentioned how cold it was and that she should quickly return and sleep the night away.

After a few confused moments at her bedside, you notice the small but important details surrounding her little sleeping space.

The rose she received days ago bore no petals and the little teddy bear was stuffed inside the small trash can. The conversation from before replays in your mind, and you take out the handkerchief she had handed you.

You recognize the handkerchief was part of a goodie bag for a small promotion the hospital held once in a while. The words 2023 on the embroidery make you speed walk towards the storage room where older items were kept for PR.

The storage room wasn’t a huge mess, but it was evident that someone had roughly opened the stored tissue papers and used a few. Your heart ached, thinking how the young girl must have cried in here, feeling lonely and betrayed.

Without thinking, you put out your pager and send out a notification for a missing patient, running towards the terrace where you last saw her. You kept calling her name, heart hammering in your chest as different thoughts spun in your mind.

Different nurses and medical staff on the floor start spreading and calling out for Minnie, everyone equally worried for the young teenage girl.

You end up on the eighth floor, briefly informing Mark before rushing off into another hallway, feeling more and more anxious with each passing second. You hear a click from nearby and rush towards the sounds, opening the door to a balcony wordlessly as you freeze, Minnie’s hands on the railing and a devastating look in her eyes.

“Minnie–”

"Don't!" Her voice shakes as she puts one leg over the railing. “I don’t want to hear about how young I am, how much life I have to live. What is the use if no one will love me?”

“Why would no one love you?” You ask softly, still stuck in place, afraid that one wrong move will make her do something irreversible.

“Because I’m permanently broken. Because I have a scar that will never heal. Because I will have to return to the hospital every few years.” Minnie wasn’t directly looking at you, she was staring down the levels, the tears in her eyes dropping down eight floors.

“But it will heal, Minnie. Both your scar and your life.” You carefully take a step, noticing how she doesn’t flinch at your movement. “Right now, you are in a very tough battle, wanting to look the prettiest for a boy you like, don’t you?” She is quiet.

“And having him see you in a hospital gown, having him not see the best version of you, it hurts, doesn’t it?” She closes her eyes, whispering a small and shaky ‘yes’, but you heard her.

“I used to think like that, too. I used to think that once I meet the love of my life, I have to be perfect already so that he will fall in love with me.” Minnie doesn’t react, even though you are certain she knows you’re closing your distance slowly.

“But I found out, quite recently, that I don’t want to be perfect to be loved. I want him to see me at my weakest, and see how I fight my way through my weaknesses. Don’t you want to show him that you are a fighter, too?” Minnie looks up at you, although she doesn’t say it, her eyes tell you everything you need to know.

“Thank you, Minnie. Give me your hand and I’ll help you down slowly, is that alright?” She nods, giving you a hand before turning around. The action makes her foot slip and she slides off the railing with a scream. You lunge forward, holding her hands as tight as you can.

“It’s okay, trust me, I will not let go.” You grunt, trying your best to lift her, but she is too heavy for you to pull up alone. “Somebody, help!” You shout out in between reassuring words for Minnie. You feel her trying to climb up, causing her grip on yours to loosen. You shout for help again, begging the skies to help this little girl. You were fighting a rough battle with exhaustion, using every fiber in your being to keep the hold on the girl’s hands.

You start to lose grip, you shout out for help one more time before you feel a warm body against you, arms surrounding yours and holding onto Minnie’s forearms.

“I got you” Donghyuck speaks to you softly before raising his voice for Minnie to hear. “Minnie, I will count to three, and Nurse Y/N, and I will pull you up. I need you to use your legs to climb up, okay? Everything is alright. We got you.”

You finally look at him and he nods counting to three before you gather all your remaining strength to lift Minnie. The three of you land on the ground of the balcony, most of the landing softened by Donghyuck embracing you both.

Minnie holds onto you tightly, crying into your chest as she keeps mumbling apologies. You close your eyes to keep your tears in, soothing the girl with strokes through her hair. “Everything will be fine from now on, Minnie. You are a fighter, remember? You will show everyone that you are a fighter, okay?” Donghyuck stands up, typing on his pager before the medical staff comes through the door with a wheelchair, taking the shocked teenager from your arms.

You are still shaken from everything that happened in the past 10 minutes, your legs and arms have completely given up after all the adrenaline wore out. Donghyuck wordlessly helps you on your feet. “Let’s go, my shift ended as well. I’m taking us home.” His voice was soft again, just like when he told you that he got you in your most fearful moment.

He tugs you forward, but you don’t budge causing him to shoot you a questioning expression. “I can’t walk anymore.”

You didn’t have any ulterior motives when you said those words, but getting a piggyback home from Donghyuck did feel nice.

It still felt odd, you were sure a week ago that you hated his guts, but now and then, he made your heart flutter like five years ago. The thoughts confused you, making you unsure about how you should act around the man. Avoiding him wasn’t an option for now, although you knew your rotation in the emergency department was coming to an end soon.

“You have potential.” He suddenly speaks as your apartment complex comes into sight. “You aren’t as fast as Nurse Ningning or as knowledgeable as Nurse Chenle, but you notice the small things about patients.”

“I doubt small things matter as much as accuracy and knowledge in this work field, Dr. Lee.” You mumble into his shoulder.

“You might think so, but I know for a fact that if you didn’t notice those things, we might have lost a lovely person today.” It was hard to find the right words to say, so you stayed quiet and let him continue.

“Your attentiveness saved a life, Y/N. Don’t ever think any less of yourself as a nurse.” Normally, you’d assume he is saying this to mock you, but even without seeing his face, you know he said those words sincerely.

“Thank you for finding me, Dr. Lee.” You say after he steps out of the elevator on the fifth floor. “It’s hard to miss you when you still shout like an endangered teen girl.” Your heart skips a beat.

“So you remember me?” You don’t know why you’re holding your breath, but you are.

“I didn’t at first, but after all the hints and pieces I got from why you joined the nursing program, together with what happened today, I just followed the string of information and realized that young girl was you.”

He has stopped in front of your apartment and you try to hurry off his back before your roommate sees you, but he doesn’t let you go as smoothly as you thought. Your roommate seemed to have sensed you because the door swung open. Winter looks at you, your arms around his neck, and then Donghyuck himself. Before she can open her mouth to say anything, you rip yourself from Donghyuck’s hold – ignoring the immediate absence of his warmth – and wave him goodbye, slamming the door in his face and shushing Winter.

“Girl, you act fast.” Minjeong throws you a smug grin.

“Please don’t even start, Winter” Unfortunately for you, her grin only widens.

The two of you continue to argue, unbeknownst to you, Donghyuck was still outside, listening to your little arguments with a chuckle. He stops himself from mumbling how amusing your reaction was, the word ‘cute’ almost escaping his lips. His footsteps start echoing again after your voices fade away, heading home in high need of some back pain-relieving patches.

any like, reblog, comment and feedback is appreciated! if you'd like to be on the taglist of this fic, let me know through an ask or comment on this work ♡

#nct dream x reader #lee haechan #haechan x reader #lee donghyuck #nct au #nct scenarios #nct x reader #haechan fluff #haechan angst #mark lee #liu yangyang #nct dream imagines #nct fluff #nct angst

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phantasm-ae · 2 months ago

Text

inspired by @little-mini-me-world ‘s comment SKSKSKKSKS

cw: just fluff, afab reader x ghost, afab reader x soap, afab reader x gaz

HEADCANON: Bunny meets bodies Soap….

PAIRING: Simon Riley x reader; John MacTavish x reader; Kyle Garrick x reader

Soap had just came from base.

Carrying a box of supplies in his arms, some paperwork, leftover documents, and random items and knick-knacks from the warehouse for Simon's forgetful arse. Besides it's not like this was the first fourth time Simon had sent Soap on some "errand run" to bring him back some particular essentials.

A map. A spare radio. A pressure gauge. A cypher. Some... sunflower chew..? -- "Whit the fuck?"

Soap squinted at the label. What the hell was this for? A snack? A bribe? Enrichment for a goat?

He shook his head.

The box shifted in his arms as he nudged the side gate open with his knee, muttering curses about how Simon could navigate enemy territory blindfolded but couldn’t keep track of his own gear if it was duct-taped to his face.

Soap stumbled through the backyard, setting the box down with a grunt onto the patio table.

Then… peace.

Birds chirped. Wind rustled through the leaves. He stretched his back and cracked his neck. Thinking he might take a second before knocking on the back door to have some of those lemon drizzle cakes you offered and tea. Just breathe in. Breathe out.

That was his first mistake.

Because somewhere to his left -- behind the flower beds and just out of view -- came the sound:

Click.

A latch. Small. Metal.

Soap froze. His eyes darted to the backdoor. The wooden gate which looked like it was not closed all the way.

Then:

THUD. THUMP THUD.

Soap turned slowly. A breeze caught the edge of the sunflower chew bag, fluttering it like a flag of doom.

That’s when he saw it -- a blur of black fur, rippling muscle, and sheer fury, ears back like missiles locked on target. A weighty fluff that looked like a foreboding presence by the doorway. A Cerberus that hops.

His eyes widened.

It stepped into the light. Not ran. Not pounced. Stepped. Purposefully. Slowly. Like it knew Soap had dropped the sunflower chew.

Like it had sensed the sacrilege.

Soap’s mouth went dry at the sight.

The rabbit -- if you could even call it that -- was massive. All thick hindquarters and broad shoulders, like someone had crossbred a gym rat with a Pixar bunny. Eyes unreadable and narrowed. Haunted, even. Like it had seen war. Fuck that -- like it himself had sacked through the war and won

And now it was coming for him.

“Oh, shite.”

Soap bolted.

Behind him: THUD. THUMP. THUD.

The sound of justice in pursuit.

The lawn blurred under his feet as he scrambled across the grass, kicking up dirt and yelling over his shoulder.

“Steamin Jesus!” he yelped, spun on his heel, and ran.

The box behind him tipped over, spewing radio parts and mystery chew like a busted loot drop. He didn’t look back. He couldn’t look back. You never look back when death has floppy ears and a muscle-to-fluff ratio that defies science.

“JESUS MARY JOSEPH!”

The beast was moving. Fast. Silent except for the terrifying drumbeat of paws pounding grass. The kind of sound that says: You done fucked up.

From the doorway, Simon’s calm voice cut through the madness. A cigarette hanging from his lips. Mask off and shirt discarded. Bored and utterly unamused at the sight

“Don’t fight him.”

Soap barely had time to process the words before he was diving behind another piece of outdoor furniture. Dodging around the hulking mass of monolithic black fur like it was just another rogue tank in disguise.

Bunny didn’t hop. Bunny lunged—a spring-loaded cannon of quads and wrath, muscles rippling under his plush coat like he’d been trained by special ops hares in the mountains. The deck chair Soap tried to use as a barrier tipped with a screech as the rabbit plowed past it like a battering ram fueled by rage and sunflower chew withdrawal.

At all the noise and commotion, you stepped out onto the porch just in time to see Soap dive behind a patio table like a soldier flinging himself from an IED. Bunny -- the aforementioned IED in rabbit form -- was hot on his heels, flared out like a muscle car revving at full speed.

Your eyes widened in both shock and surprise. Utterly worried and confused at the sight. Brows furrowing in frustration and annoyance at Simon's nonchalant arse just watching the whole thing go down without another word.

“Simon!”

Simon didn’t even flinch. Just took a long drag from his cigarette, arms crossed, watching the chaos like it was a nature documentary.

“Are you seriously just standing there?”

“He’s fine, birdie", he replies. Deadpan. Bored and growing amused at Soap doing combat rolls across the lawn to escape what looked like a jacked-up demon in bunny form.

You shot him a look sharp enough to shave wood.

“He’s not fine, Si! He’s being chased by a rodent with a vendetta!”

Simon shrugged, flicking ash off to the side. “Shouldn’t’ve dropped the chew.”

As if on cue, Soap let out another yell -- something between a battlefield cry and a terrified squeal -- as Bunny cleared a flowerbed in a single, impossible leap, landing with a heavy THUMP that rattled a potted plant off the windowsill.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake -- ” you muttered, stomping down the porch steps.

“BUNNY!” you called out, voice cutting clean through the yard like a clap of thunder.

The beast froze mid-prowl. One paw suspended in the air. Eyes narrowed. His broad, fluffy shoulders lifted and dropped like he’d just remembered he was, technically, a house rabbit.

“Down,” you ordered firmly. “Now.”

Bunny turned his head slowly toward you, his nose twitching once. Then, with the weariness of a war general called back from a campaign he really wanted to finish. Irritated. Held-back and made indignant. He backed off.

Sat his enormous fluff down on the grass with an audible huff, glared once more at Soap, and began cleaning his front paw in the most passive-aggressive way. Licking his ears innocently as if he didn't just try to gnaw out Soap's ankle to the bone.

You turned to Simon, who looked criminally smug.

“And you!” you snapped. “How many times do I have to tell you not to leave the latch half-closed?! He’s figured it out!”

Simon blinked at you. “That’s impressive, actually.”

“Not the point.”

Behind you, Soap finally peeled himself off the ground, hair tousled, shirt grass-stained, and dignity nowhere to be found.

“Holy hell”, Soap started warily. Swallowing and out of breath as he peeked around the edge of a flipped chair. “Tha’ was nae how I wanted tae go”

"I'm so sorry," you said, voice shaky and weary as you approach Soap. Eyes darting around the mess he was left in.

Soap limped over. Standing slowly back onto his footing. Cautiously eyeing Bunny, who was now sitting like a sentient sandbag of judgment.

“Tha’ thing,” he muttered, pointing and exasperated, “is nae a bunny aye? Tha’s a fuckin’ black watch guinea pig wi’ a gym pass an’ a thirst for blood!”

Bunny thumped once, just to prove a point.

“I’m so sorry,” you repeated, brushing dirt off Soap’s shoulder as you try to help him stay on his feet, “he’s just super territorial. Doesn’t like high-pitched screaming is all. It stresses him out.”

“Ah wis the one stressed out!”

Bunny sneezed.

Simon stubbed out his cigarette. “He probably thought you were a threat, mate”

“Simon—“

“Tae what?! The ecosystem?!”

At all the yelping, wheezing, exasperated grunts, and creaking of broken furniture, Gaz opens the back door cautiously. Cuppa already in hand from your said tea. “Everything alright?”

“Naw,” Soap snapped. “Naw, everythin’s no alright.”

“He met Bunny,” Simon said with a shrug. Lips quirking a bit like that explained it all.

Gaz sipped his tea at the entire scenery, stifling a humored smile. “Lucky you. He’s never chased me.”

At his words, Bunny turned his head toward Gaz slowly, ears perked. Position poised and nose twitching in interest.

Gaz. Quiet. Calm and Wise.

Immediately stepped back inside and closed the door.

You sighed, hands on your hips as you wave your hands in annoyance. “Okay. That’s it. Everyone back in the house. No one touches the chew. And Simon, you’re fixing the latch. Properly this time.”

Simon nodded solemnly at your scolding. Never one to argue with his birdie when he knows he did her wrong. “Aye. Before he learns to use keys.”

Bunny blinked slowly but obeyed without another huff. Then hopped — thumped — Regally. Menacingly. Triumphantly. Back into the house as well like a king returning to his throne.

Soap just stood there, winded. “I’m bringin’ a stun baton next time.”

You patted his arm reassuringly. Feeling a sense of guilt. “I'm so sorry darling. Just bring an apology gift next time. And maybe... kneepads yeah?”, you add.

Side-eyeing Simon as you two walk past him. Shooting him a warning look before leading Soap inside.

"One more word and you're sleeping on the couch"

"I didn't even say anything"

"That's the point"

masterlist

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 26 days ago

Note

May i request tf 141 x beatboxer!reader please. Like reader can mimic perfect gun sounds nd stuff

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZNdMw6cyo/

Callsign: Mimic

Pairing: Poly 141 x Beatboxer!Reader

Warnings: Slow burn, polyamory, tension, fluff, pining, team bonding, romantic confession, mentions of combat, canon-typical violence (brief), soft moments, reader has beatboxing/audio mimicry talents

Author's Note: Thank you for this request—it was so fun to write such a unique, sound-based reader! I love the idea of someone whose talents are completely unorthodox but earn the respect and love of such dangerous men. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The team knew from day one that your voice could command a battlefield—but none of them expected to fall for the rhythm behind it. You're their heartbeat. Their chaos. Their Mimic.

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The first time you mimicked gunfire on base, you almost got yourself shot.

It was an idle afternoon in the forward camp, and boredom had chewed through discipline like rust. You were crouched by a crate, half-tuned comms in your ear, mouth pulsing out crisp, rapid-fire percussion.

Rat-tat-tat. Ping. Helicopter blades. Boots on concrete. A click—then a flashbang whistle.

Suddenly: a body slammed into you.

"Contact!" Kyle shouted, rifle raised before you could blink.

"Gaz, hold fire!" John Price’s voice barked across the open space.

You were on your back, heart hammering, blinking up at a squad that looked like they'd just sprinted through hell.

Kyle hovered over you, eyes wild. "Mimic?! What the hell?"

You raised both hands, voice dry. "Sorry. Sound check."

Johnny stepped into view, eyes flicking from you to the space around you. "That was you? Thought a whole squad was breeching."

Simon Riley crouched next to you, expression unreadable under the mask. He said nothing, but his eyes flicked down to your lips—the source of the chaos.

"Impressive," he muttered. Then stood, offering a gloved hand.

You took it.

And from that day forward, they started listening. Closely.

——

They learned quickly that your mouth could do more than make music. You were dangerously precise. On missions, you could mimic a mag reload, distract enemies with phantom steps, or fake distant gunfire to trigger ambushes.

Kyle once laughed, shaking his head after you tricked an entire patrol into leaving their post.

"You’re like... audio warfare."

You grinned. "All part of the symphony."

But the mission wasn’t the only place you made noise.

Off-duty, you filled silence like it was second nature. You beatboxed while organizing gear, sang softly over static-filled radios, and drummed on your thighs when stuck on watch.

You made music from war.

And the boys? They started orbiting you like satellites.

Kyle was the first to admit he liked it. "Kinda miss it when you’re quiet, you know?" he’d say, elbow brushing yours during gear checks.

Johnny started requesting sounds like a kid asking for bedtime stories. "Do a heartbeat monitor. No wait—do Ghost’s boots! No wait, do Price when he’s mad."

Simon never requested anything—but you noticed the way he’d always find his way to you when you practiced alone, arms folded, silent as death but always there.

And Price? He watched you like a man trying not to be captivated. He’d lean against the wall as you performed for the squad, cigar unlit, lips tugged into the smallest smile.

"Bloody witchcraft," he’d murmur after every set.

You liked the way they looked at you. Like you were something special.

Because to them—you were.

——

The mission went sideways.

Intel was bad. Your team got split during an ambush inside a rusting train yard, visibility cut by fog and smoke grenades. Radios were jammed.

You were alone in a shipping container, heart in your throat, tracking the distant echo of boots and gunfire.

So you did the only thing you could.

You let your heartbeat set the tempo.

Then the guns.

Then the boots.

Then their boots. You knew their cadence.

Pop-pop-pop. Frag bounce. Radio ping. Soap’s laugh. Ghost’s reload. Price’s breath. Kyle’s footwork.

You stitched them together in perfect rhythm—like a flare in sound form.

And they heard it.

One by one, the boys peeled through the fog. First Kyle, barreling in with a grin like sunlight through smoke. Then Johnny, cursing and laughing all at once. Simon emerged next, silent but storm-eyed. And last was John Price, jaw tight with worry, who yanked you into his arms like he forgot he wasn’t supposed to need anyone.

"You little genius," he muttered. "You called us in with a fucking beat."

You laughed into his shoulder, breathless and shaking. "Couldn’t exactly send a text."

——

After that, something changed.

You’d sit down for breakfast and find Kyle had brewed your favorite tea without asking.

Johnny would lean on your shoulder mid-movie, head heavy and warm.

Simon left his sketchpad on your bunk once—inside was a penciled waveform. Your waveform. Your sound.

And Price... started ending meetings with a glance your way, a soft, "Mimic? Walk with me."

One night, you beatboxed a lullaby over base speakers, not knowing Price had had a nightmare. The next morning, he placed his dog tags in your hand and whispered, "Means I trust you."

Your heart thudded like a kick drum.

You trusted them, too.

——

It happened during downtime. The stars were sharp above the desert, and the squad sat around a small fire in camp chairs, sipping coffee laced with whiskey.

You were drumming your fingers against your knee when Kyle leaned in. "Can I ask something?"

"Sure."

"Are you… with any of us?"

The fire crackled. Johnny’s head perked up. Simon stilled. Price looked at you over the rim of his mug.

You blinked. "What?"

Kyle cleared his throat. "It’s just—we all… We care about you. Not just as squadmates. It’s more than that."

Johnny nodded. "It’s like, when you’re not around, something’s missing. I can’t stand it."

Simon spoke next, quiet and steady. "It’s not about sex. It’s… comfort. Warmth. A piece of peace."

And Price. John Price. He said it without a trace of doubt:

"You’re our rhythm. Our center. We’ve all fallen for you, love. Just wanted to know if you felt it too."

Your mouth went dry.

But then, the words tumbled out—unsteady, raw, real.

"I’ve been falling since the first time you all listened. Really listened. Like I wasn’t just noise."

You looked at each of them in turn—at Kyle’s hopeful smile, Johnny’s vulnerable grin, Simon’s steady gaze, John’s soft, battle-worn eyes.

"I want all of you," you said.

The silence was shattered by Johnny tackling you backward into the sand with a yell of pure joy.

"You’re ours, then," Kyle whispered against your hair.

Simon touched your hand like it was precious.

And Price… bent down and kissed your forehead like a vow.

Now, you fall asleep tangled in four different kinds of warmth.

Kyle always curls around your back, hand over your stomach.

Johnny throws a leg over yours, breathing soft.

Simon anchors you at your side, unmoving but always there.

And John? He rises early, but before he does, he brushes his lips to your temple and whispers:

"Sing us home, Mimic."

And so you do.

Every day.

Every mission.

Every beat of your heart belongs to them.

And theirs, to you.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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bellaxgiornata · 5 months ago

Text

You Are My Sunshine [1]

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word count: 5.3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

Summary: Recently released from a stint in Stockton Prison with a few of the Sons, Jax is still struggling with Tara returning to Chicago over a year after he killed Agent Kohn for her. When he returned to Charming, Jax noticed a coffee shop had sprung up across the street from Teller-Morrow Automotive and the clubhouse, oddly finding himself watching the strangely cheerful owner through the windows. One night he feels drawn to step inside, but he's left even more confused when the owner feels like the embodiment of sunshine itself. Jax quickly realizes that the more he visits her shop, the more at peace he finds himself.

Warnings/tags: 18+; sunshine!Reader/grumpy!Jax (somewhat), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, canon divergent, canon typical violence (more tags to possibly come)

a/n: Not everything will be true to canon in this little series, and this first part starts out in Jax's POV. I just couldn't resist the idea of Jax with someone so bright and bubbly bringing some happiness his way. As a note since I'm newer in the SoA fanfic scene, I always do my best to refrain from adding physical descriptions to Readers, but they are still some form of a character personality-wise. Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

Placing the cigarette between his lips, Jax flipped open his lighter and held the flame up to the tip of it. He was itching for something right now–a smoke, a drink, a fuck, a fight. He couldn’t quite tell the difference anymore. Everything felt the same–a neverending blur. The days had all begun to bleed together ever since he and the guys had been released from Stockton the other month.

And everything felt the goddamn same as it did before he'd gone in.

Taking a drag on the cigarette, he pocketed the lighter and leant back against the brick of the clubhouse behind him. Laughter and blaring music was pouring out of the building, the noise always far too loud to be contained by the structure. The Sons were partying again tonight, celebrating a successful closure of a deal from earlier in the day. But for some reason Jax hadn’t felt like partying. The air in the clubhouse felt suffocating, which was why he’d stepped outside into the balmy summer night for a cigarette instead.

As a trail of smoke curled its way upwards from between his lips, Jax stared vacantly across the otherwise empty lot, his eyes landing on the line of motorcycles across from him. His mind inevitably wandered back to Tara while he smoked, something it often did ever since she’d reappeared in his life over a year ago just to disappear all over again. Running away. That's what she had always done best.

He hated that he couldn’t get her out of his head even after all this time. But what he hated even more was that part of him still felt like it was holding onto the ridiculous hope that she’d come back to him. That she might wake up one day and return to Charming and somehow just accept him for who he was, who he'd always been. But that was a fucking bullshit hope and he knew it.

Jax’s jaw clenched in irritation, his fingers tightening around his cigarette as he drew it back up to his lips for another sharp inhale. It was impossible not to think that Tara had used him just to get rid of Kohn knowing that he’d be sympathetic to her situation. Knowing damn well that Jax would never have just walked away when she came to him for help. And it pissed him off that she’d played him like that–that he had let her play him like that. Especially when he’d been so fucking vulnerable after Abel had been born with all of his health complications weighing on his mind.

He had needed her in return, but Tara hadn’t cared about what Jax was going through. She hadn’t cared about the fact that until that moment, Jax had never killed like he'd killed that night for her. Every time before had always been for the club–for self-defense, retaliation. But that night? That night it had been out of love. It had been because he'd been protecting someone he cared about. And Tara had thrown him away a second time right afterwards, not even bothering to think about how any of it had affected Jax.

Movement across the street caught Jax’s attention, breaking through his spiraling, agitated thoughts. His head turned as he stood in the dimly lit parking lot, pulling the cigarette away from his lips and blowing out a plume of smoke as his eyes landed on you across the street through the large glass windows of your coffee shop.

Honest Coffee. You’d opened it at some point when he and a few of the Sons had been doing a few months in Stockton, but ever since he’d gotten out, he’d found his gaze drawn across the street to that building more times than he’d ever willingly care to admit. And he wasn’t entirely sure why, either. Jax was not the kind of guy you’d find sitting inside of a coffee shop sipping on some fancy ass, overly sweetened and overpriced bullshit cup of coffee. That wasn’t his thing. So of course he’d never actually ventured inside the shop that had opened up across the street from the clubhouse and Teller-Morrow Automotive.

But for some goddamn reason he couldn’t help but look.

The entire place stood out amongst the old, worn brick buildings beside it. You’d painted the exterior brick white and hung up some bold, black sign with the shop’s name on it above the entrance. There were even a few little tables and chairs on the sidewalk out front along with writing on one of the large glass windows that read ‘Support your local caffeine dealer.’ Which, for some goddamn reason, amused Jax to no end considering your shop was located across the street from actual arms dealers.

And there were plants. Goddamn, the amount of plants. A few large potted ones sat outside by the front doors, and there were a handful hanging over all of the large open windows. And, from what Jax had been able to see when he’d ridden past the place multiple times, you had plants on the tables inside, too. So many fucking plants it was like you were making coffee in a damn jungle. He didn’t understand why you had so many or how the hell they always looked like they were thriving. He’d often heard Gemma even compliment the goddamn plants the few times she’d stopped over to get herself coffee.

But it wasn’t entirely the plants or what you’d done to the building to make it appear so warm and inviting in downtown Charming that had him constantly staring across the street. It was you, if he was being honest with himself. You were always working there. He’d already come to assume that you were more than just a barista and that you actually owned the coffee shop with how frequently you were there. And you were attractive, that wasn’t even remotely a question. But you were nothing like the women at the clubhouse, or Redwoody, or Diosa. Where most of the women he’d encountered in his life were all rough and hard edges, you always seemed so soft and sweet. Like a warmth just radiated off of you everytime you smiled.

And you were always fucking smiling over there. Whenever Jax watched you through the windows, whether he was outside having a smoke with the guys or by himself, you were guaranteed to be standing somewhere in that shop talking to someone with a smile on your face. Despite the fact that he didn't understand how one damn person could smile so damn much in a day, he’d sometimes found himself wondering what it would be like to see that smile up close, to have it directed at himself. There was just something about it, even from this distance across the street, that made it look different from any other smile he felt like he’d been given in his life. Like it was real and not covering a hidden agenda.

Jax took a final drag on his cigarette before tossing it to the ground beside his feet, crushing it out beneath his shoe. His eyes were still on you through those large glass windows as he did. It looked like you were closing up the shop for the day. You were alone inside, the entire place empty as you swept the floor with a broom. But it almost looked like you were dancing as you cleaned, your hips swaying as your lips moved. The corner of Jax’s lips twisted upwards faintly at the sight. Who the hell were you? You were cleaning in an empty shop in downtown Charming, all alone just after sunset, across the street from the disliked and notorious motorcycle club, and you were dancing as you swept?

Who the fuck looked so happy to be cleaning?

Without even thinking, Jax pushed off the wall of the clubhouse and let his feet carry him away from the party raging behind him. An incredulous look was etched across his usually hard features as he began to cross the empty street and make his way towards your coffee shop. Eventually he came to a stop just outside of the front door, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans as he watched the back of you for a minute through the windows. Unquestionably you were inside dancing and sweeping as you listened to–what Jax assumed as he stood just outside–stupid coffee shop music. An amused huff came out of him as he shook his head at the sight.

Not even bothering to check if your shop was closed on the hours listed on the door, Jax slipped a hand out of his pocket and pulled it open. No bell chimed to alert you of his presence, meaning you continued your cleaning and soft singing to yourself with your back facing him, completely unaware you had a customer. A smug smirk tugged at his lips as he sauntered further inside the shop, making his way over to the counter near the register before resting an arm against the white countertop. He leaned his weight against it, crossing his ankles as his head cocked to the side, his blue eyes fixed on you.

Christ, you looked adorable. Not a thought he often had about women. Usually he went for the ones at the clubhouse barely dressed in much of anything who were always very eager to spend the night with him. Even a few of the girls at Diosa and the pornstars at Redwoody that had sometimes caught his eye would never have been called anything close to ‘adorable’ by Jax. But you just looked so goddamn sweet and you hadn’t even noticed him standing behind you staring.

Clearing his throat, Jax figured he should probably alert you to his presence. He didn’t want to scare you, which he had a feeling might happen if you turned around and spotted someone that looked like him just quietly watching you.

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen someone look so damn happy sweeping a floor before,” Jax called out.

The way you startled at his voice, spinning around abruptly with a soft, surprised gasp while throwing a hand over your heart, had a pleased grin growing on Jax’s face. You looked so surprised with your wide eyes and parted lips. He almost wanted to laugh, but instead he bit his bottom lip and held the sound back.

“Relax, darlin’. I’m not here to rob your coffee shop,” he teased.

Almost immediately your expression shifted, the look of surprise disappearing and being replaced with a friendly smile that lit up your entire face. The sight of it did something to Jax, taking him by surprise. Because it was nighttime, you were alone in your shop, and here Jax had stood unannounced behind you, and yet your reaction was to just smile at him like he was some old friend you’d been expecting to see?

A soft laugh fell from your lips as Jax watched you turn around towards him, leaning some of your weight against the broom handle in your hands while your eyes took in the sight of him. He noticed the way you'd briefly scanned his kutte, but that kind smile remained stretched across your pretty mouth when your gaze once more met his.

“I wasn't thinking you were going to, you just startled me,” you answered. “You're extremely quiet on your feet, you know.”

Jax chuckled at the comment, his grin growing a little more amused. If only you knew the half of it.

“I may have been told that a time or two,” he replied, his eyes still taking you in without a hint of subtlety.

“Well,” you began, a playful lilt to your tone, completely unbothered by his gaze, “you know what they say about strange men showing up unannounced after closing, don’t you?”

Completely thrown by the unexpected teasing question coming from someone who looked as sweet as you, Jax couldn’t fight back the small chuckle that managed to fall out of him. “No, darlin’, I don’t. What do they say?” he asked.

Your perceptive eyes, which were still lit from the warmth of your smile, watched the way Jax continued to lean so casually against the countertop. You didn't appear even remotely fazed by his presence here and he found that so incredibly odd.

“That they want a coffee,” you answered matter-of-factly.

Jax raised a brow curiously at your response, your smile somehow widening even further on your lips. You were not what he'd expected–and he'd already expected you to be something sweet and nice. But it was almost like you were more than even just that. It felt like the goddamn sun was shining on him when you smiled at him, and he didn't know what to make of it. No one in Charming that was an outsider to the club was this kind and friendly to its members. Most of the town had a healthy fear and a good amount of disdain at this point for the Sons.

But not you, apparently.

“Thought you were closing?” Jax asked, shaking the thoughts from his mind as he eyed you curiously.

You laughed lightly yet again, turning and resting the broom against the shop’s counter now. “Didn't stop you from sneaking in, friend.” You glanced over your shoulder at him, completely genuine in your question as you asked, “So, would you like a coffee?”

An amused noise of disbelief rumbled out of Jax. You spoke to him as if he was any other goddamn customer coming into your shop. He'd never been treated so normal before.

“Guess if you're offering, sweetheart, then yes,” he finally answered. Jax moved over, lowering himself into one of the chairs at the small counter as he watched you make your way around it. “Though I can't say I'd normally be caught dead ordering anything from a coffee shop.”

Coming to a stop in front of him just on the other side of the counter, your head tilted curiously to the side as you studied him closely. Jax stiffened under the weight of your gaze. It almost felt like you were seeing right through him with the way your eyes ran over his face so carefully. As if you were really taking him in. He wondered what you saw when you looked at him, but then that damn sweet smile was plastered across your lips again before you were speaking.

“Then I'm honored to be the first. And,” you continued, the sound of your voice somehow temporarily soothing that constant burning rage inside of Jax, “I'll even make it on the house. Free of charge this time.”

Jax blinked back at you, stunned into silence for a moment. But then he shook his head, waving a hand at you. “Not gonna let you do that, darlin’. I can pay for a coffee.”

“Didn't say you couldn't, I'm just trying to spread some kindness. Looks you've had a rough day,” you replied, a softness in your voice that wasn't there a moment ago. But then the bright, playfulness was back as you pointed a finger at him. “You look like a regular coffee kind of guy. No creamer, bit of sugar. Am I right?”

“I…yeah,” Jax answered, a little taken aback at how quickly you'd read him and how easily you spoke to him. “Yeah, I am.”

“There's sweetener on that counter behind you,” you said, gesturing at something behind Jax before you turned around.

He glanced briefly over his shoulder at what you’d pointed out before he focused back on you. Watching in silence, his eyes remained on the back of you as you started on his cup of coffee, but his brows soon furrowed as he watched you work. He'd never seen someone make coffee the way you were doing now. What in the hell were you doing?

“Don't you just...have a machine, sweetheart?” Jax asked slowly.

A soft laugh came from you as you worked, your back to him as you answered. “Pour over is better than drip. I promise.” Glancing over your shoulder, you smiled at him once more. “Just trust me.”

Still baffled and confused as to what in the hell you were doing, he couldn't help but to keep watching you in silence, completely confused as to how in the hell you were making him what should be just a simple cup of coffee. He really never had stepped foot into a coffee shop before–a big chain one or a locally owned place. He didn’t even know why he’d crossed the street and come over here in the first place, especially with the party going on at the clubhouse where he was supposed to be.

Lost in his thoughts, Jax’s eyes inevitably dropped down to your ass, taking in the shape of it in your jeans. His head tilted appreciatively to the side as his attention focused on that instead of trying to understand the strange pull he'd felt to step inside your shop once and for all tonight. His tongue slipped out, running along the length of his bottom lip as he took in the unobstructed view before him. You filled your jeans out damn good.

“So you got a name, friend?” you asked, your voice breaking through his thoughts. “Or am I just supposed to keep calling you ‘friend’?”

Jax found himself mentally chastising himself at your interruption, his eyes moving back to yours as you turned around, leaning your back against the counter behind you. There was a sincere expression on your face, like you actually cared to know who he was, and that had him feeling guilty for the way he'd just been looking at you. You weren't like the girls he surrounded himself with, you were actually good. He shouldn't be eyeing you like that. There was no way in hell you'd ever be interested in a man like him, and you definitely didn't look like the one-and-done kind of girl.

“It's Jax,” he answered. “Jax Teller. You got a name, darlin’?”

A small smile curled the corners of his lips upwards when you gave him your name so easily. He had a feeling this was one of the rare times he wouldn't just immediately forget a woman's name after she'd given it to him.

“You always this cheerful, darlin’?” he asked next, unable to resist the question that had been gradually growing in his mind the longer he sat here. “Or is this some professional, friendly barista persona that you throw on when you're here at work?”

Jax watched as you turned around to the back counter against the tiled wall again, picking up the strange glass container you'd just made the coffee in before pouring it into a to-go cup for him. You were quiet as you worked before turning around and crossing the space over to where Jax was sitting. Reaching a hand out, Jax accepted the coffee from yours, but when his rough fingers brushed against your soft ones, he felt the corners of his lips twitch.

“Owner,” you said softly, your hands resting on the countertop. “Not a barista. And it's not a persona I throw on for work, this is just me.”

Jax’s brows drew together at that as he got off his chair and made his way over to the counter by the entrance to add in some sweetener to the coffee. How the hell was anyone just that friendly and cheerful naturally? Without it being a front? But as he stirred his coffee, wandering back over to the counter and taking his seat again, he noticed that you looked sincere.

“How the hell are you this friendly to everyone?” he asked, sitting back down in the chair at the counter, his coffee momentarily forgotten.

“Because I like being nice,” you simply replied.

Jax made a face at that answer. Who the fuck liked being nice all of the time? That had to be bullshit. There had to be people you didn't like, people that you weren't quite so kind towards. People like him who definitely didn't deserve an ounce of kindness.

“Bullshit,” Jax argued, eyes narrowing at you in suspicion. “There's gotta be rude customers you aren't such a ray of sunshine towards, right? Bad people you don't want in here?”

He watched as your fingers lightly drummed against the countertop, your smile smaller but not gone from your lips. Almost like it was just a permanent fixture on your face.

“I believe everyone deserves some kindness,” you answered genuinely after a moment, holding Jax’s gaze. “Because you never know the weight of what someone is carrying on their shoulders. And sometimes, all someone needs is a kind word or a smile in their day.”

Jax just sat there in silence for a moment, staring at you like you'd just said the most absolutely ridiculous thing. And honestly, he felt like you had. You looked so naive and innocent standing there behind your counter full of those goddamn plants you appeared to love so much.

“You realize who I am, right?”

The question had slipped out of Jax without much forethought, but he was curious now. Were you somehow that oblivious as to who your shop was across the street from? Was that why you were being so friendly to him?

“Yeah,” you answered with a nod, your eyes focusing behind Jax at the clubhouse through the window for a second before returning to him. “I've seen a lot of you with those…vests? Over there across the street.”

Jax couldn’t stop the chuckle that rumbled out of him. Vests. That was cute. Jesus, you really weren't part of his world at all, were you? You probably had no damn idea about the pistol in his “vest.”

“Kuttes, darlin’. They're called kuttes,” he told you as he drew his cup towards his mouth while he spoke. “They're a bit different and more important than just some vest.”

Jax took a sip of the hot coffee, entirely planning to continue his explanation about how wrong you were about the kuttes, but he was taken off guard by the drink. He hadn't expected it to taste as good as it did. He'd drank coffee before–a shitload of it most days because Jax was no stranger to sleepless nights even before Abel came into the picture–but this didn't taste like the acidic, burnt trash that he'd grown used to masking with sugar.

The sound of your delighted laugh drew his gaze back up to your face. A bright, amused smile was shining back at him. The sight momentarily had Jax forgetting about everything–the coffee, the kuttes, his anger at Tara, the clubhouse party he should be getting back to. All he could do was stare at you, taking in the sight of your smile and the way it felt like it had somehow warmed him more than that hot coffee ever could.

“Is it good?” you asked, gesturing your head towards the cup in his hand. “The coffee?”

Blinking a couple of times, Jax looked back down at the paper cup warming his hand, attempting to return to his senses. “Yeah,” he answered. Roughly clearing his throat, he snapped out of whatever it was that your smile had just done to him. “How the hell do you get your coffee to taste so damn good?”

A pleased smile spread its way across your face when Jax looked back at you. He liked the way a glimmer of something–pride, maybe–reflected back at him in your eyes.

“All about the roast and the extraction, Jax,” you replied. “Fresh, good quality beans that have just been ground make a world of difference. But I'm glad you like it. I've always said a great cup of coffee can help make a bad day better.”

Jax chuckled again, shaking off that weird sensation from a moment ago and drawing the cup up to his lips for another drink of the hot liquid. Goddamn, is this why people paid more instead of just making it their damn selves? Did it actually taste that much better from a coffee shop?

“Maybe for some people,” Jax mused as he lowered the cup, his eyes fixed on you behind the counter. “But I don't think a cup of coffee is gonna do a damn thing to fix my problems, darlin’.”

Unfazed by his attitude, you simply shrugged a shoulder in response. “You never know, maybe you just haven't had the right cup of coffee yet.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Jax's mouth. You were adorable. Naive, but adorable.

“I don't think coffee is the solution to anything other than how damn tired I am,” he disagreed.

Loud shouting from across the street caught both of your attention from the shop, the noise interrupting the conversation. Jax noticed the way your eyes darted to the window almost instantly before he sighed and looked over his shoulder behind him. A handful of the guys were outside drunk and having a smoke in the clubhouse lot, a few of the hangarounds clinging to them in their short shorts and crop tops. The sight of them out there was sobering. He knew he should get back to the clubhouse, especially now with how he was beginning to feel a little guilty that he'd interrupted you trying to close your shop.

Turning around in his chair, Jax entirely expected to see some sort of judgmental look on your face at the Sons and the croweaters across the street. It was how everyone outside of the club looked at them. But there was only a hint of genuine curiosity before your gaze shifted back to him in front of you. His brows furrowed faintly together at that, but he quickly pushed the growing questions away. It didn't matter.

“I should get back over there,” Jax told you. “Make sure those shitheads don't cause too much trouble. And I should let you finish closing up.”

He rose from the chair at the counter, his lips straightening along his face as he got to his feet with his coffee in hand. For some reason, he found he didn't really want to go back over to the clubhouse, though. Whatever frustration he'd been feeling before he had walked over here tonight had somehow just vanished within the short time he'd spent sitting here talking to you. Something no amount of drinking, fucking, or riding his bike had even managed.

“You're right, it's well past close for me now,” you admitted, glancing at the clock on the wall behind yourself.

Another pang of guilt flooded Jax at your words. It was completely his fault that you were here so late now because he had stupidly walked in here for…he didn't even know what. Except that smile returned to your face again almost immediately, as if you weren't even upset that he had interrupted your night.

“I'm curious about something, sweetheart,” Jax found himself saying, his eyes narrowing at you as he spoke. “Would you have kicked me out at some point tonight, or are you too nice for that, too?”

Another small, casual shrug came in response to the question. “Eventually, yes,” you answered. “I do need to eventually go home and sleep before coming back here tomorrow morning.” You paused, that look on your face like you were seeing straight through him briefly returning before you continued. “But you looked like you needed…something. Figured a coffee wouldn't hurt, at least.”

Jax stood there staring at you, just taking in what you had said and that warm, friendly smile. It didn't make sense–you didn't make sense. And he wasn't sure how he felt about the way you seemed to actually see him. It was unsettling.

“You're an odd one, sunshine,” he murmured.

Almost instantly, a delighted laugh met Jax’s ears as he took another sip of his coffee. As he swallowed the drink down, his own lips couldn't keep from drawing themselves upwards at the sound.

“Sunshine?” you asked, both of your brows raising back at him.

Bottom lip rolling between his teeth, Jax bit back the grin threatening to spread across his face as he nodded slowly. “Yeah. Sunshine,” he repeated. “Suits you. You're so goddamn friendly and nice.”

“Well that's a new one for me,” you told him.

There was something different about the smile on your face now, but Jax couldn't quite place what it was. He'd never had a woman smile at him like that before. Not even Tara.

The thought of Tara was like a kick to the chest, a jolt of pain shooting through Jax. His expression abruptly fell, aware that all the usual thoughts he'd had about her after she had left him a second time were going to come back and hit him hard the second he walked out of your shop.

“Right. I should let you close,” he replied tersely.

Giving you a nod in goodbye, Jax's mouth felt dry as he turned around towards the exit. A confusing mix of thoughts were swirling in his mind now.

“Goodnight, Jax,” you called out behind him.

The sweet, soft tone gave him pause as he rested one hand on the door handle. His blonde brows drew together, jaw clenching tight as that familiar rage and darkness inside of him felt like it was clawing its way up his chest, threatening to spill out of him in the form of some rude comment that would knock that friendly smile off your face. He didn't deserve you treating him like this. He was a terrible person. He knew he could prove it to you with just a few simple words, but before he could open his mouth, you spoke again.

“Feel free to stop in again sometime,” you told him. “You're welcome here anytime just like anyone else, Sons’ President or not.” A soft noise almost like a little laugh came next before you added on, “Preferably when I'm open, though.”

His body went rigid at that pleasant, melodic little laugh of yours. Slowly, Jax turned to look over his shoulder at you still standing behind the counter. You were indeed over there smiling, but the urge to be an asshole just to show you what kind of man he really was–that he shouldn't be treated like everyone else–disappeared almost immediately at the sight of it. How the hell did you keep doing that? Keep disarming him so easily with just a goddamn smile?

“I'll keep that in mind,” he muttered.

Without giving you a chance to say more, confused as to the weird effect you seemed to have on him, he pushed the door open and stepped back out into the summer evening. The noise from the clubhouse across the street carried its way to Jax’s ears as he began to make his way back over to where the Sons were smoking in the parking lot. He took another drink of his coffee as he went, his thoughts briefly straying to you and that entire strange encounter he'd just had.

There was just something about you that was so damn unfamiliar to Jax. You were all light and warmth, like the embodiment of sunshine itself. Nothing like anyone he'd ever met before in his life and it intrigued him as much as it bothered him. For weeks he had been watching you through your shop window wondering what it would be like to have you smile at him like he'd often seen you smile at all of your other customers, and now he knew. It felt like the summer sun finally rising to start the day after a long, dark night. And Jax found himself oddly craving more of your warmth, suddenly not giving a shit if he got burned in the process.

#jax teller x reader #jax teller x you #jax teller #jax teller fanfiction #sons of anarchy #soa fanfiction

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velarisnightsky444 · 9 months ago

Text

Patience*

Kinktober Day 1: Cockwarming With Azriel

AN: Sneak peak for Stargirl. Evelina is my OC, she is Rhysand's twin sister.

CW: Cockwarming, d/s dynamics, intercourse, impact play

Word Count: 1.2k

October Masterlist

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

I could be particularly impatient when my mate was working, since his job took up a large portion of the day. I could get pouty and annoyed, which I didn't deny. Though, Az wasn't fond of me like that.

Ever since we were children, he would scold me for my incessant whining, no matter what the cause.

So I would go to his office and pout and whine until I pissed him off enough to pay attention to me, forgetting his work.

It was immature, yes. But it worked.

I stood in his doorway now, staring at him as he did his paperwork. He hadn't even glanced up at me, yet.

His hazel eyes were glued to the paperwork before him, his scarred hand gripped his pen tight enough to make his knuckles go white.

His black locks fell over his face, shielding his expression from my view. I wanted to run my hands through those curls as I sat on his lap, him thrusting into me.

He had forgone his leathers today, and was wearing a white button down, paired with a pair of black slacks.

I went crazy when he wore white button downs. He knew that.

I cleared my throat, leaning against the frame of the door. He didn’t even look up.

"I see you, Eve," he spoke up. "I'm just ignoring you."

"You've been working all day," I complained, crossing my arms.

"And you standing there pouting will only slow me down," he said, finally lifting his head and meeting my eyes.

"I need you, Az," I whined, standing up straight.

He let loose a deep sigh, placing his pen onto the desk and pinching the bridge of his nose with his scarred fingers.

"Take your clothes off," he instructed.

I grinned in triumph, shedding my violet dress, then making quick work of my underthings. The air hit my bare body, my nipples peaking against it.

Azriel’s hazel eyes drank in the sight before he beckoned me over. I complied.

Azriel began unbuckling his belt. As he pulled him cock out, arousal settled in my core. I rubbed my thighs together, desperate for friction.

"You’ll have to behave if you want to cum," he warned.

His scarred hands found their place on my waist, flipping me around to face away from him. He carefully guided me down onto his cock.

I gasped at the intrusion, wanting nothing more than to sink all the way down. But he was guiding me so slowly, and I could feel as every inch impenetrated me.

I let out a loud moan as he bottomed out. His hands released my bare waist, and he picked up his pen, glancing over my shoulder to continue working.

I frowned, beginning to grind on his cock, but his shadows put a stop to that. They swirled around me, holding me in place.

"Az," I complained, trying to struggle against the shadows.

"I told you I was working," he reminded me. "Now, you will be patient until I am done."

Two of his shadows wrapped around my knees, spreading my legs open on his lap. I gasped at the cold air hitting my core. I dared to reach down and rub my clit, but a shadow gripped my wrist before I could, binding both of my hands behind my back.

The others worked at forcing me to sit up straight in his lap. Sitting up with my legs spread and my arms pinned behind my back was incredibly uncomfortable.

The only relief was his cock stuffed deep inside of me. But even that was becoming more of a frustration, since I couldn't move.

"Az," I repeated. "Please. This is unfair."

"You should've waited," he murmured into my ear. "Now, you'll be quiet and you will wait for me to finish my work. If you're good, I'll fuck you. If not, you'll just have to stay unsatisfied until tomorrow."

I whined again, which only irritated him further. He landed a harsh smack to my cunt, causing me to cry out at the sting.

"That's your first warning," he spoke. "If I get to three, you will not cum tonight."

"Yes, sir," I grumbled, feeling my arousal soaking onto his lap.

I could feel myself blushing at the fact that I was ruining his pants. But he didn't say anything about it. He just kept working.

The throbbing in my center was driving me wild, and all I wanted to do was bounce on his cock. But the shadows holding me down stopped that. And I knew if I disobeyed him, I would only regret it.

His cock twitched inside of me, causing me to gasp, throwing my head back. Another smack landed on my core.

"That's two," he warned. "Not another sound, princess."

I nodded, sending an apology down the bond. I squeezed my eyes shut, focusing on keeping myself quiet. If I couldn't cum tonight, I would go insane.

I watched a clock closely, which only made time go slower. He continued writing, but I was too frustrated and aroused to read it. My head felt utterly light.

Twenty torturous minutes went by, and I was nearly in tears. He was so deep, yet there was no pleasure.

"Almost done, princess," he murmured. "You've been so good for me."

I had to bite my lip to keep from sighing in relief. Azriel placed his pen down as he finished, and his shadows released me.

He jutted up inside of me, hips pulling back, then smacking against my ass. I cried out, tears of relief finally falling.

He fucked me harshly, one hand reaching around to rub my clit, the other wrapped around my throat. He squeezed just slightly, enough to cause discomfort.

I whined and mewled in his lap, my face wet from the pool of tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Please,” I moaned, not quite sure what I was begging for.

My ass stung from his hips snapping against it again, and again. I leaned my weight into him, allowing myself to relax as he fucked me.

“What do you want, princess?”

“Let me cum,” I begged, feeling that coil tighten in my lower stomach.

“Already?” he mocked. “But it’s so soon.”

“Please,” I sobbed.

I was so sensitive after all that teasing, it hadn’t taken me long to get to the edge at all.

“You can cum, but I’m not stopping until I do, too,” he warned.

“Thank you, thank you,” I cried out, my hands squeezing the edge of the desk in front of me as that coil snapped.

My moans were undigified as I came on his cock, pleasure wracking through me.

When I came down from my high, he sped up his thrusts. I whined from the overstimulation, leaned against him for support.

He stopped rubbing my clit, and instead began to rub comforting circles on my upper thigh.

When he came, he grunted, his release shooting into me. He bit down on my shoulder to muffle his moans, and I let out a harsh breath at the sting.

His shadows lifted me off of him and to my feet when he was done. I went to make for the door, but he stood behind me, bending me over the desk.

“I’m nowhere near done with you.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Kink/Fluff/Angstober Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @danikamariemain @panther-girl-124 @winchesterbbygrl @kissesfrommads @binnieonabike @fourthwing4ever @ghostslittlegf @mollygetssherlockcoffee @hawke1917 @nesta-houseofwindfantasy @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @honk4emoboys @rogersbarnesxx @a-courtof-azriel

Azriel Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @panther-girl-124 @tangled-sun @hawke1917

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @andreperez11 @isnotwhatyourethinking @effervescentbutterfly @anneas11

Comment to be added to any taglists!

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

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puffins-muffins · 9 months ago

Text

Control - The Beginning

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female!Reader Word Count: 7,300 Summary: You return to your hometown as a successful defense attorney to represent SAMCRO President Jax Teller, the former love of your life, in a murder trial. Years after your painful breakup, unresolved feelings resurface, and the lines between your professional duty and personal desires blur. Warnings: 18+ only please, cursing, cheating, mentions of parental death. A/N: So, this is my first Jax/SOA AU-ish fic. This establishes Jax & Reader's beginnings as teens/young adults. Feedback is so greatly appreciated! Beta'd by just myself, all mistakes are my own. I am also new to posting like this so apologies now if I've missed anything. We'll learn as we go. Please be kind.

Jax Teller leaned against his bike in the Charming High School parking lot, his leather kutte draped over his broad shoulders. With a lean, muscular build, he exuded an aura of danger on two wheels. His sandy blonde hair was a tousled mess, falling just below his ears and framing his face in a way that highlighted his rebellious charm. One flash of his boyish, crooked grin sent girls swooning, but when you walked past, you didn’t even glance his way.

Curiosity piqued, Jax straightened up. “Hey,” he called, his voice smooth yet laced with cocky confidence. “You too good to say hi?”

You turned your head slightly, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“I’m Jax Teller.” He starts. “You’re Jimmy’s daughter, aren’t you?” his eyes narrowing slightly as recognition dawned. “I saw you at the clubhouse a few weeks ago when your old man patched into our charter.”

You shrugged, barely reacting. “Yeah, that’s me. So what?”

Jax smirked, intrigued by how unimpressed you seemed. “Just surprised I haven’t seen you around more,” he said, stepping a little closer. “You’re not into the whole MC thing?”

You quickly glanced him up and down, a playful glint in your eye. “Not really my scene.”

Jax tilted his head, genuinely interested. “That why you won’t give me the time of day, huh?”

You shrugged again, a smirk creeping onto your lips. “Maybe you’re just not as charming as you think you are.”

His grin widened. Most girls would’ve melted under his attention, but you? You gave as good as you got. He liked that. “You might be right, but that’s not going to stop me from trying, darlin’,” he replied, adding a flirtatious wink. “Can I take you somewhere?” he asked, gesturing toward his bike.

You scoffed, glancing down at his bike and then back at him, your tone teasing. “With you? On that? No thanks. I only ride with my dad.”

“Alright, Pep, another time then,” he said, his tone light and flirtatious, making you bite back a smile.

“Pep?” you asked, confusion furrowing your brow.

“Pepper,” he explained, grinning widely. “You’re kind of spicy, and I like that. I think that nickname suits you.”

After rejecting his ride, he hopped on his bike, strapping on his helmet, ready to leave. “We’ll see how long it takes before you’re begging me to give you a ride.” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo.

You flashed him a smirk, determination in your eyes. Cool, calm exterior. “Oh, don’t hold your breath, Teller.”

But inside, a rush of conflicting emotions surged through you. His words caused your stomach to flip. The easy banter was just a front; beneath it lay the undeniable pull between you, and you felt it tugging at your heart. As you watched him take off, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d be craving that ride sooner than you’d like to admit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After that first encounter, it was like a slow, steady burn between you and Jax. At first, you made it a point to keep your distance, though it was impossible to ignore the magnetism between you. He’d always find an excuse to talk to you in the halls, leaning against lockers like he owned the damn place. You’d roll your eyes, give him sass, but there was always that spark — the kind that lit up the air around you both.

Then came the day he convinced you to ride with him. He pulled up to your house one Saturday afternoon, engine rumbling beneath him, and shot you that devil-may-care grin. “C’mon, Pep. You’ve been avoiding this long enough.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, one hand on your hip. “I told you, I don’t do rides, Teller.”

But there was a challenge in your voice, and Jax heard it loud and clear. He just revved the engine, making it purr, his gaze never leaving yours. God, he was cute. “One ride with me. You don’t like it; I’ll never ask again. Please.”

You didn’t respond right away, but the way your heart thumped in your chest betrayed you. Something about Jax made you want to push your own limits, and this was no different. Relenting, you grabbed the helmet he offered and swung your leg over the bike behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. His body was warm and solid beneath your hands, and you could feel his heartbeat through his leather.

The bike roared to life, and before you knew it, you were speeding down the back roads outside town. Wind whipped through your hair, the world a blur of color as the adrenaline pumped through your veins. Every time Jax took a sharp turn, your grip on him tightened, but soon you weren’t holding on out of fear, you were holding on because you didn’t want to let go. The rumble of the engine, the feel of the wind, the pure freedom - it was intoxicating. And the way Jax handled the bike, confident and effortless, only added to the rush.

He’d glance back at you every now and then, smirking when he saw you weren’t just holding on anymore; you were leaning into it, craving more of that wild thrill. And with every ride, it became more than just adrenaline. It was the way he made you feel when you were with him, completely invincible, like nothing in the world could touch you.

The weeks turned into months, and a montage of memories built up between you two. Sneaking out at night, the hum of his bike your only soundtrack as you wrapped yourself around him, laughing into the wind. Bonfires by the old quarry, where he’d pull you close with that cocky grin, his touch always gentle with you. Late-night rides to nowhere, where you’d hold him a little tighter, whispering sarcastic comebacks into his ear even as your heart betrayed you, racing faster with every mile.

Then there were those unexpected moments, the quiet ones that caught you off guard. Like when you found yourselves perched on the roof of Teller-Morrow, cocooned in your own little world. In those instances, a different side of Jax emerged—one that was introspective and thoughtful. He would often pull out a notebook, jotting down his thoughts and feelings, exposing a vulnerability that stood in stark contrast to his tough exterior. As he lit a cigarette, you would lean into him, savoring the warmth radiating from his body. You’d tease him playfully, the banter punctuated by that same smile tugging at the corners of your lips. And when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, your gaze would linger on him just a little too long.

It wasn’t long before you realized something had shifted. The thrill of the ride was more than just the speed and adrenaline. It was the way Jax’s hand would find yours when you weren’t paying attention, the way he’d look at you like you were the only thing that mattered. It was the sound of his laughter, the way his eyes softened when he saw you, the fire and sass he loved to tease but never tried to tame.

One night, after a long ride along the coast, the two of you sat by the edge of the cliff, the ocean crashing beneath you. Jax was beside you, leaning back on his hands, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “You know,” he said after a long stretch of silence, his voice low, “I didn’t think you’d ever actually give in.”

You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Give in to what?”

He grinned, that playful glint in his eyes. “To this. To riding with me. To… us.”

For a moment, you just looked at him, the sunset painting his features in warm, golden light. You couldn’t deny it anymore. The exhilaration wasn’t just from the rides, it was from him.

“I guess you’re not the worst company,” you admitted, rolling your eyes even as you leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder.

He chuckled softly, his arm slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. “Yeah, well, you’re my Pep. No one else like you.”

And that’s when you knew you had fallen, not just for the rides, but for the boy who had made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t expected. The boy who saw through your sarcasm, who called you Pepper because he liked your fire, and who made your heart race faster than any ride ever could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Senior year was a whirlwind. While you were focused on your classes and keeping up with your honor roll status, Jax was slipping further away from school. He barely showed up anymore, spending most of his time at the garage or with the club. There were days when you’d catch glimpses of him, riding in with Opie, that familiar roar of their bikes, the MC patch on his back more of a constant presence than his textbooks.

You had always known Jax was different, more interested in bikes and the MC life than anything school had to offer. But now, it felt like he was already halfway out the door while you were still trying to figure out where the future would take you.

The contrast between the two of you was glaring. You were getting acceptance letters from universities across the country, each one congratulating you on your achievements. It felt surreal, but there was this gnawing ache every time you thought about leaving Charming — leaving him. You had spent the last couple of years with Jax as your constant. The idea of being somewhere without him felt like cutting away a part of yourself.

One afternoon, you met Jax at the garage after school, where he was elbow-deep in the engine of a Harley. He looked up when he heard you approach, wiping his hands on a rag, that familiar grin stretching across his face. “Hey, Pep,” he called, dropping the rag and walking toward you, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “How was your day? Ace another test?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, nudging him playfully. “Actually, yeah. I got into Berkeley.”

Jax’s face lit up with pride. “Damn, look at you. That’s huge, babe.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you affectionately.

You leaned into him, inhaling the familiar mix of leather, grease, and smoke. “Yeah… but it’s kinda far, Jax. And I don’t know if I want to go that far. I was thinking maybe San Fran or even Fresno. Somewhere closer.”

Jax looked at you, brow furrowing a bit as he leaned against the workbench. “You’re gonna throw away Berkeley for Charming? Why?”

You shifted, feeling the weight of your answer before you even said it. “Because of you,” you admitted, voice soft but steady. “I don’t want to be miles away from you, from everything I know, my dad. I want to study law, stay close, and—”

He cut you off with a kiss, pulling you closer, his hand resting at the back of your neck. When he pulled away, his eyes were soft but conflicted. “You’re too good for this place. You’ve got this big, bright future ahead of you, and I don’t want to be a reason you hold yourself back.”

You searched his face, trying to understand where this was coming from. “You’re not holding me back, Jax. I want to be near you. Law school, everything — I can do that here.”

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his long hair. “I don’t have a plan. Shit, I’m barely gonna graduate. I’ll probably work at the garage, help with the club… I don’t know where I’ll end up, but it’s not gonna be college, that’s for sure.”

You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I don’t care about that. I care about you. You don’t have to have some perfect plan. We’ve got time to figure things out.”

Jax smiled softly, but there was something behind it, a flicker of doubt, maybe even fear. He pulled you close, resting his forehead against yours. “You deserve more than just ‘figuring it out.’ You deserve everything. And I don’t know if I can give you that.”

You held his face in your hands, making him look at you. “You’ve always been enough for me, Jax. Always. I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.”

Jax only kissed you, this time slower, deeper, like he was holding on to something he was afraid to lose. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely a whisper. “I could never tell you to go. I just… I don’t want to hold you back.”

You kissed him back softly, the noise of the garage fading into the background. “You won’t,” you promised.

But even as you said it, there was a part of you that knew things would never be that simple, not with the club, not with the way Jax was already tied to a world that didn’t leave room for easy choices. Still, in that moment, with his arms wrapped around you and the world at your feet, you believed that somehow, you could make it work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Two years into undergrad and everything felt different. The late-night rides and stolen moments that used to bring you and Jax together now seemed like distant memories. You were buried in textbooks and case studies, drowning in deadlines and long hours at your internship. The law classes were brutal and balancing your workload with everything else left you running on fumes. You’d chosen a college about an hour outside of Charming, far enough to give you space but close enough to keep Jax in your life.

But even with that proximity, things were… different. The once easy connection between you and Jax felt strained, pulled thin under the weight of time, distance, and the lives you were both living now.

You were sitting at a small table in a coffee shop near your campus, your laptop open and legal notes scattered everywhere. Your phone buzzed, a text from Jax lighting up the screen. Hey, been trying to call. Busy?

You stared at the message for a moment, guilt swirling in your chest. You had seen the missed calls earlier, but your study group had gone long, and then there was work. You typed out a quick reply: Yeah, sorry. Studying. You okay?

His response came fast. Yeah, just haven’t seen you in a while. Miss you.

That simple sentence hit harder than you expected. You missed him too, desperately. Lately, it felt like missing him was all you did. You weren’t the same girl who had spent nights riding on the back of his bike, laughing into the wind. Now, you were someone constantly pulled in a dozen directions, and Jax was being swallowed up by the club. He was taking on more responsibilities with the Sons, more rides, more late nights. And you knew what came with that lifestyle - the danger, the temptations. You’d heard about other women. Nothing concrete, but the rumors alone were enough to keep you awake at night.

You texted back, I miss you too. Maybe I can come by tomorrow?

Yeah. I’ll be at the clubhouse. Be good to see you.

The next day, you drove back to Charming, your stomach knotted with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. You parked outside the clubhouse, a place that used to feel like a second home, but now felt distant — like you didn’t quite belong in Jax’s world anymore. You walked inside and immediately saw him at the bar, his back turned as he talked with Opie.

“Hey,” you called, and he turned, that familiar smile lighting up his face as he saw you.

“Hey yourself!” he said, walking over to wrap his arms around you, a tender kiss placed on your lips. The feel of him, solid and warm, instantly melted some of the tension inside you. For a moment, it felt like everything could be okay, like you were still those two kids who fell in love years ago. But as soon as he pulled away, reality slipped back in.

He led you back to his clubhouse room. Both of you sitting on the bed, his hand resting on your leg as if to anchor you both. You made small talk, catching up on each other’s lives, but the conversation felt stilted. There were gaps now, things unsaid between you, like the life he was leading in the club, the hours he spent with them, and the stories you heard but never wanted to ask about.

“School’s killing me,” you admitted. “I barely have time to breathe, let alone come back here. It’s just... a lot.”

Jax nodded, but you could see the distance in his eyes, the frustration he was trying to mask. “Yeah, you’ve been busy. I get it.”

You sighed, looking into his eyes. “Do you? Because it feels like… I don’t know, like we’re both living these separate lives. When’s the last time we spent more than an hour together?” There was always this heightened tension between you two now.

Jax’s jaw clenched, and he leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know, I know. But it’s not just you. I’ve got a lot going on too, with the garage, the club and everything…” he trails off.

“And what does ‘everything’ include?” you asked, your voice quieter, a trace of the hurt you’d been holding back slipping through.

He looked at you for a long moment, eyes shadowed with a mix of guilt and defensiveness. “What are you asking?”

You hesitated. This was the conversation you’d both been avoiding, but you couldn’t pretend anymore. “I’m asking if there’s someone else, Jax. I’m asking if the club has taken more than just your time.”

His expression hardened, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it - regret, maybe. “There’s no one else, Pep. Don’t be ridiculous.” He snapped. “But this life… it’s not easy. And you’re not here as much. I’m not saying that’s your fault, but it’s how it is.”

You nodded, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “Yeah, I get it. You’re right. We’re both busy, and it’s hard. But we’re growing apart, Jax. And I don’t know how to fix that.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t know how to fix it either.”

There it was — the raw truth neither of you had said out loud until now. You still loved each other, deeply, but it was like trying to hold on to something that kept slipping through your fingers. The connection that had once felt so unbreakable was fraying at the edges, and neither of you knew if you could tie it back together.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you like it always had. For now, in this moment, you could pretend that everything was okay. But deep down, you both knew that things had changed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another year had passed, and your relationship with Jax was hanging by a thread. Between the LSAT’s, your paralegal job, law school applications, you were constantly thinking about the future. A part of you still wanted that future to include Jax, despite all the cracks.

The tension between you two had been building for months. He’d invited you to a big MC party, but things between you were so fragile that you weren’t sure if going was the best thing. The law firm you worked for was in the middle of a huge case and you didn’t think you would be able to get away from the piles of research you had in front of you. Just as you were grappling with whether to go, your phone buzzed, Jax’s name lighting up across your screen.

Hey Pep, you coming to see me, or what? ;)

The pull between duty and heartache twisted in your chest. The case you were working on was critical, your future in law depended on it, and yet, a part of you longed to see him, to feel connected again. But you couldn’t ignore the creeping sense that you no longer fit in his world. The MC lifestyle felt more alien with every passing day.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. I’m slammed with work right now… not sure if I can make it.

The moment the message left your screen, a wave of anxiety hit you. Would he be disappointed? Relieved? Part of you wanted him to push back, to make you feel like you still mattered enough for him to want you there.

A few seconds passed, then your phone buzzed again. His response appeared almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for your message just as eagerly.

You’re always slammed with work. But this is important to me. Come on, it’s just one night. I miss you.

Your heart clenched. He was good at that, making you feel guilty for choosing anything that wasn’t him or the MC. You read the message repeatedly, feeling the weight of his words.

"I miss you."

It was what you wanted to hear, but at the same time, it left you more torn than before. School, the case, it all seemed so distant now. Your mind flickered back to the last time you'd seen him, the strained goodbye, the unsaid things between you two. Maybe one night wouldn't change anything, but what if it did?

The screen dimmed as your phone idled, but you couldn't take your eyes off the words, wondering if you could keep walking this fine line between your past and your future.

You typed out ‘I'll try’ and stared at it for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the send button. It felt like a compromise, a way to keep one foot in each world without fully committing to either. But as you sent it, a pit formed in your stomach. You knew deep down that it wasn’t just about this one night—it was about all the nights before and all the ones that could come after.

Your phone buzzed again almost immediately.

That's my girl. I’ll be waiting for you.

His words sent a familiar warmth through you, but there was something bittersweet about it too. His girl. You weren’t sure if you even belonged to him anymore. Jax had a way of making you feel like nothing had changed, like the years apart hadn’t put a canyon between who you were and who you’d both become.

You sighed, glancing at the stack of case files on your desk. The logical part of you said you should stay, focus on the case. But another part, the one that still longed for the way things used to be, pulled you towards him. Like always.

You decided to work for another hour, hoping the mountain of research would drown out the thoughts of Jax and then head to the party. But time slipped away from you and when you finally glanced at the clock, a surge of panic shot through you. You were hours behind. Cursing under your breath, you threw everything into your bag and bolted out of your dorm.

The drive to Charming was long and familiar, each mile pulling you back to a life you’d tried so hard to leave behind. You hadn’t heard from him; you knew you were hours later than you planned, and he probably thought you weren’t coming. You decided to surprise him at this point, to see his face when you showed up after all. Maybe you could feel like you still belonged in his world, even if only for one night.

The roar of motorcycles echoed faintly in the distance, a sound you knew all too well. You parked a little way down from the clubhouse, your heart hammering in your chest as you walked toward the sounds of the party.

The parking lot was crowded with bikes, the familiar smell of leather and gasoline hitting you as you approached the entrance. The music was loud, people spilled out from the doors, laughing and drinking. You weaved through them, feeling the weight of old eyes on you, some curious, others familiar.

As you stepped inside, the chaos of the party washed over you. It was everything you remembered - loud, wild, and unapologetically SAMCRO. You scanned the room, looking for him, the anticipation of seeing him again made your heart race.

As you navigated through the crowded room, the air thick with smoke, alcohol, and the unmistakable roar of laughter and loud voices, you couldn't help but notice the women, Crow-eaters as they were not so affectionately referred as, draped over several members. They were scantily clad, their bodies pressed close to the bikers, and you felt the sharp sting of being out of place. Their boldness, their ease in this world, it was a stark contrast to the careful, controlled way you lived your life now.

You tugged at the hem of your jacket, suddenly hyper-aware of the more conservative clothes you wore and the way you didn’t fit in. You were polished, buttoned-up, and in a crowd like this, it made you feel like an outsider. The club girls knew their place, their roles in the MC hierarchy clear, but you used to think you belonged here. Now it felt foreign, like you were intruding on a life that had moved on without you. You weren’t one of them, and as much as you tried to pretend this night was about reconnecting with Jax, the reality was painfully obvious. This just wasn’t your world.

When you finally spotted him, it wasn’t the reunion you imagined. There he was, in the corner, alone with another girl, a girl too close for comfort. She was laughing, her hand on his chest, and his expression wasn’t one of protest.

Your stomach dropped. You’d heard rumors swirling around for a while, whispers you hadn’t wanted to believe, but this? This was undeniable.

You stormed over, heart pounding. “What the hell, Jax?”

He looked up, startled and shocked, and you saw the guilt flash across his face. The girl backed off immediately, sensing the tension, but it was too late. The damage was done.

“Pep, wait—” he started, but you weren’t having it.

“Wait for what? For you to finish whatever this is?” You could hear the anger and hurt in your voice, and it took everything not to lose it right there in front of everyone.

Jax stood, frustration mixing with his own guilt. “Shit, Babe - It’s not what it looks like. She’s no one, I swear—”

“Then why was she all over you?” You could feel your hands trembling, the betrayal sharp in your chest. “Do you even care anymore, Jax? Or am I just holding on to something that doesn’t exist?”

He stepped closer, grabbing your arm gently. “Of course I care. Pep, you know I love you and I’m not screwing around.”

You wanted to believe him, but that image of him with her was now burned into your mind. Still, as you stared into his eyes, the same eyes that had looked at you with love for years, you found yourself softening. Maybe it was out of habit, maybe it was out of hope, but you nodded, letting out a shaky breath, not wanting to do this with an audience. “Jax, this can’t happen again.”

He nodded quickly, pulling you into his arms. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I swear.”

After the confrontation, he had come to you, apologizing, trying to explain away the situation as a misunderstanding, a mistake. And in that moment, you wanted so badly to believe him, to let the history between you two be enough to erase the pain of what you’d seen.

You stayed and he held you close that night, whispering promises that felt hollow. His arms around you were familiar, but they no longer felt like home. You could feel the space between you two, even as he lay beside you, his breath steady as he fell asleep.

You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. Everything about this night, this life was a far cry from what you had imagined your future would look like. It didn’t matter how many times he apologized or promised to change. Something between you had shifted, and no amount of love was going to fix it. You knew deep down, as you lay there in the dark, that this had to be the end.

It wasn’t just about the girl he flirted with or the way he had laughed with her like you didn’t exist. It was about the path you were on, the future you were fighting for. It was about who Jax had become and who you had grown into. Jax had chosen this life, and in exchange, never fully choosing you. The club would always come first, and that realization cut deeper than anything else.

Your heart felt heavy as you got dressed quietly, careful not to wake him. The thought of leaving without saying goodbye tore at you, but you knew this had to be done. You had to walk away before the weight of staying crushed you.

You leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his lips, your hand resting on the side of his face, memorizing the feel of him one last time. His lips moved slightly under yours, and for a moment, you thought he might wake, but he didn’t. Part of you was relieved, saying goodbye right now would have been too hard.

Standing over him, you took a deep breath, knowing this might be the last time you’d ever see him like this, your Jax - peaceful, vulnerable. Your eyes lingered on him before you turned and walked out of the room, your heart breaking with every step.

The drive out of Charming felt endless, every mile putting more distance between you and the life you once knew. It gutted you to leave him behind, but deep down, you knew it was the only way to save yourself. You had outgrown this world, and it was time to let go of the one person you thought you’d never lose. As you merged onto the highway, the sun barely beginning to rise, you wiped away the tears that had silently fallen. This was the end, and even though it hurt like hell, you knew it was the right choice.

It had been a few weeks since that night and the heaviness in your heart had only deepened. You spent countless hours wrestling with the decision to end things with Jax. The memories of laughter and love felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by the harsh reality of your lives drifting apart. Tonight, you’d finally decided you were going to have the talk - the one that would sever the last ties binding you to him.

As you gathered your things, the clutter of books and notes on your desk only reminded you of the life you were trying to build apart from him. The stack of law books felt like a barrier, protecting you from the emotional storm you knew was about to hit. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the words you would say.

Just as you were about to walk out, a firm knock echoed through your small dorm. You paused, quizzical. You weren’t expecting anyone, and a twinge of anxiety twisted in your stomach.

“Hey,” came the gruff voice from the other side, and your heart dropped. It was Jax.

You opened the door, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He looked pale, his normally vibrant eyes clouded with something heavy. His usual confident demeanor was replaced by an unsettling vulnerability, and it sent a jolt of panic through you.

“Jax? What’s wrong?”

He stepped inside, his presence both comforting and terrifying. “I—” His voice cracked, and he took a moment, visibly struggling to find the right words. “It’s your dad. He… he’s gone.”

The world around you seemed to tilt on its axis. “What do you mean, gone?” you stammered, heart racing. “What happened?”

His gaze dropped, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that made your stomach churn. “There was a deal that went south. He got caught in the crossfire. They got him to the hospital, but it was too late.”

Shock flooded your body, a cold wave that left you feeling numb. “No. No, this can’t be happening.” You stumbled back, your vision blurring as tears threatened to spill over. Your father had always been your rock, the steady hand guiding you through life, it had always been just the two of you. “What do you mean caught in the crossfire? He was just… he was fine. I just saw him!”

Jax stepped closer, his expression pained, his own tears threatening to spill over. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept the reality he was laying before you. “You don’t understand. This is… I can’t… I don’t even know how to process this.” The words tumbled out, a desperate plea for understanding that fell flat.

He reached for your arm; his grip firm yet gentle. “Please, let me help you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The warmth of his touch ignited a swirl of conflicting emotions within you. He was the last person you wanted to turn to, yet in that moment, the desperation for comfort overpowered everything else. You felt so fragile, and the thought of facing this tragedy without him was daunting.

He cupped your face and in that moment, it was like the ground dropped out from under you. The room spun, and suddenly, everything—the fight, the tension, even your plans to leave Jax, seemed insignificant. Your dad was dead, and the club, the same club that had taken so much from you with Jax, had taken him too.

You collapsed into Jax’s arms, your tears soaking his shirt as you clung to him. And just like that, all your plans shattered. You weren’t thinking about law school anymore. You weren’t even thinking about breaking up with him. All you could think about was the fact that your dad was gone, and Jax was the only one who could understand the weight of that loss.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Jax made it through your father’s funeral, now bound together by grief, but even in the depths of your sorrow, it was a fragile connection. He had become your lifeline, holding you close as you navigated the crushing waves of loss. The club surrounded you, providing support in ways you hadn’t expected, ensuring that you wanted for nothing as you buried yourself in your studies during your last year of undergrad. You moved through life on autopilot, the world around you fading into a blur as you focused on school, pretending that everything would somehow work itself out.

As the months passed, acceptance letters from several schools filled your mailbox, a testament to your hard work and determination. But the joy of those accomplishments felt overshadowed by the grief that still clung to you like a heavy fog. Each letter was a reminder of a future you were hesitant to embrace. You were torn, unsure of where to go. Part of you wanted to stay close to Jax, to the familiarity of Charming, while another part yearned for a fresh start, a chance to break free from everything that haunted you.

But while you clung to Jax for comfort, the distance between you was palpable. You knew he was there, physically present, yet your relationship had become stagnant, a shell of what it once was. Jax provided a familiar solace, but it wasn’t enough to bridge the gap that had formed. The love that had once burned brightly now flickered like a candle, struggling against the grief that surrounded you both.

Everything came to a head one night at the clubhouse. As you paused outside Jax’s door, your hand froze on the doorknob, heart racing at the faint sound of laughter inside - his laughter. But he wasn’t alone. With a deep breath, you pushed the door open, and everything seemed to freeze around you.

There he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt half unbuttoned, lips locked with some woman you didn’t recognize. Her laughter mixed with his, a sound that shattered your world once again. Time felt suspended as the reality of the moment set in.

“Jax!” The sound of your voice echoed painfully in the room, causing their laughter to halt abruptly. His eyes widened in shock, but they quickly filled with shame as he processed your presence. The woman beside him blinked, confusion dancing in her eyes, but you ignored her, shaking with betrayal as you stared at him. You didn’t even recognize him anymore.

“Shit! Pep, I—” he started, his voice thick with regret, but the words evaporated in the tension that filled the room.

Anger boiled within you, raw and relentless, as you stepped forward, heart racing. “You said you loved me! You promised you’d do better!”

He shifted uncomfortably, guilt etching deeper lines on his face. He couldn’t meet your gaze, knowing he had fucked up royally. The realization of what he had done hung heavily in the air, a small part of him recognizing that he had sabotaged your relationship out of fear. Fear of feeling stifled, of the stagnant love that no longer felt like home to him either.

When he reached out to touch you, desperation tinged with shame, you yelled. “Don’t! Don’t fucking touch me!” The slap was swift, fueled by raw emotion, landing with a force that surprised even you. The sound echoed in the room, sharp and definitive, as Jax's head snapped to the side, his face flushed with the imprint of your anger. The room seemed to hold its breath, and everything inside you unraveled.

The warmth and safety Jax once provided had turned cold. You could see the regret in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to undo this betrayal.

That’s when Opie appeared, his expression a mix of sadness and empathy. He stood silently, a protective barrier between you and the pain. Without saying a word, he placed a hand on your shoulder, grounding you as everything inside you threatened to collapse. Jax remained quiet, his shame on full display, knowing he had lost something precious but feeling powerless to reclaim it.

“I’ll take care of her,” Opie said quietly, his voice steady. He didn’t need to say more; Jax knew better than to push. The hurt in his eyes was evident, but it was too late for apologies.

“Pep, please,” Jax finally managed, his voice hoarse, but it lacked the strength of conviction. His eyes were desperate, but beneath that desperation lay a deep-rooted acknowledgment of his failures, the realization that he had successfully pushed you away.

“Stop,” you snapped, tears streaming down your cheeks, anger morphing into deep-seated sorrow.

He stood there, paralyzed, unable to find the words that could ever justify this.

Opie stepped forward, his presence a comforting weight, trying to navigate you out of the room. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

You turned away from Jax, feeling the ache of loss settle in your chest like a stone. Only a silent farewell passing between you. It was done. You and Jax were over.

As Opie led you away, the weight of everything crashed down on you. You had lost your father, and now, Jax too – his love that once brought you to life felt distant, unreachable. The noise of the clubhouse disappeared into the background, leaving you in a world where the only constant was your grief, and you didn’t know how to move forward.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Leaving Charming felt like tearing a piece of your heart out. You had chosen the best law school you could, deliberately picking one as far away from California as possible. It was a decision that both terrified and relieved you. You needed to escape the memories, the grief, and, most of all, Jax.

As the day of your departure drew closer, the reality of it settled in, leaving you with an emptiness that clashed with your determination. You packed your things meticulously, each item a reminder of what you were leaving behind. But as much as you wanted to flee from your past, a part of you still ached for closure.

So, you agreed to meet Jax for a final goodbye, knowing it was something you both needed, even if it felt hollow. You chose a secluded spot in the park where you used to share lazy afternoons, a place where laughter once rang in the air. But today, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words and lingering sadness.

Jax was already there when you arrived, leaning against his bike, arms crossed, looking every bit the man you'd fallen for. His eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence felt thick, filled with all the things you couldn’t say anymore.

“So, this is it,” Jax finally said, his voice quieter than usual. There was no edge, no teasing, only rawness.

You nodded, unsure of how to respond without unraveling. “Yeah, it is.”

He looked down, running a hand through his hair, the same way he always did when he didn’t know what to say. “I get why you’re going. You need to do this.” Jax replied, his eyes searching yours for something - understanding, perhaps, or forgiveness. “It’s just… hard to believe you won’t be here.”

You swallowed, your heart tightening in your chest. All you could muster was a simple nod of understanding.

For a solitary moment, it was like time rewound, and you were back to being the two of you, before everything got complicated. Before the weight of the club, the violence, and the grief. It would have been so easy to fall into his arms, but you held yourself still, knowing that this moment wasn’t about holding on, it was about letting go.

Jax straightened, stepping closer, his blue eyes still searching yours. “I wanted this life for us, you know? A real future.” His voice broke, just slightly, and it hit you harder than you expected.

“I know,” you whispered, your own emotions threatening to spill over. “But that’s not where we’re headed anymore.”

He reached for your hand, his grip firm but tender, as if it was the last connection keeping you from drifting apart. “Just… promise me one thing.”

You looked at him, your throat tight with unshed tears. “What?”

“Don’t forget about me, alright? Even if I’m just a memory, don’t forget.”

The weight of his words settled deep inside you. You could promise that, but you weren’t sure how much of Jax would be left in you once you stepped onto that plane. Still, you nodded, because in that moment, it was the only thing you could give him.

“Goodbye, Jax.”

His jaw clenched, and he pulled you into a hug, strong and secure. The scent of leather, smoke, and something distinctly Jax, washed over you, making you dizzy with the realization that this was truly the end. And when he let go, you didn’t look back.

As you walked away, each step felt heavier than the last, there was no turning around. Not now. You had to let him go, even if part of you never would.

Part 2 - The Reunion

#jax teller #jax teller x reader #soa #sons of anarchy #samcro #charlie hunnam #jax teller fic

495 notes · View notes

minxmut-cafe · 4 months ago

Text

TAKE ME |

Pairing : Namjoon x Reader

Word count : 3K

Authors note : Ik I've been focusing more on Jimin so I'm trying to write more About other Members as well BUT ITS SO HARD TO IMAGINE THEM SEXUALLY 😫. I hope I did Namjoon justice and if you like it MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!

Warning : Smut, fluffy, Dom Namjoon, explicit sexual content, oral sex (M & F receiving), multiple rounds, creampies, cum ring, un-protected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all), sub reader, virgin reader, rough sex.

Synopsis :

"Namjoon is a smart guy but sometimes...you have to spell certain things out for him, like how you want him to bend you over backwards on his couch"

Namjoon was a smart man.

Brilliant, even.

But when it came to you—his sweet little girlfriend, always so innocent-looking, always giving him those big eyes—

He could be a bit dense.

Because lately?

You’d been acting… different.

Dropping all these strange little comments.

Like when you sat in his lap, playing with the collar of his shirt, and murmured, "You know… I always imagined my first time being with someone as big as you, Joonie."

And Namjoon, sweet clueless Namjoon, just smiled and kissed your forehead, saying, "Aw, baby, that’s sweet."

Or when you twirled your hair between your fingers and sighed, "I bet you’d feel so good inside me, Joon…"

And he just patted your thigh and said, "You always say the nicest things, baby."

And then—

When you literally sat across from him, wearing his biggest hoodie with nothing underneath, and went, "Joonie, I want you to take my virginity."

And Namjoon froze.

His fingers tightened around his book, his jaw going slack. "…Wait. You—" His brows furrowed. "You actually mean that?"

You just blinked at him. "*Joon, I have been dropping hints for weeks."

Namjoon’s brain short-circuited. "Oh."

And then—

It clicked.

"Oh…"

And then—

"Oh."

His book dropped to the floor.

"Baby—" His voice lowered, his gaze darkening in an instant. "Come here."

You bit your lip, crawling into his lap—

And the moment you settled against him, Namjoon’s big hands gripped your waist.

"So you’re telling me—" His fingers tightened on your hips. "You’ve been waiting for me to ruin you this whole time?"

Your breath hitched. "Yes, Joonie…"

His jaw ticked. "And you just let me be oblivious this entire time?"

"Well—" You shrugged, toying with the hem of his shirt. "It was kinda cute how clueless you were—"

And then—

Namjoon flipped you beneath him.

You barely had time to breathe before Namjoon’s mouth was on you.

His lips crushed against yours, hot and urgent, his big hands spreading over your hips as he pulled you into his lap.

"Mmm—!" You whimpered into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his hair. "J-Joon—!"

"Shhh, baby." His deep voice was low, breathless against your lips. "Been teasing me all this time, hmm? Letting me be clueless while you sat here thinking about me fucking you?"

Your breath hitched. "J-Joon—!"

He just chuckled, dark and gravelly. "Naughty little thing."

And then—

His hands slid under your hoodie.

"Been waiting for me to ruin you, hmm?" His lips ghosted over your jaw, his fingers dancing along the inside of your thigh. "Let’s see just how bad you need it, baby."

And then—

His hand slipped into your panties.

And you gasped. "J-Joon—!"

Namjoon froze.

Because, holy fuck—

"Baby…" His voice dropped, his fingers gliding over your soft, slick heat. "You’re so wet…"

Your cheeks flamed. "Joon—!"

He let out a low groan, his fingers teasing at your entrance. "God, baby—" His other hand gripped your waist, keeping you still. "This all for me?"

You whimpered, your nails digging into his shoulders. "Y-Yes, Joonie—!"

And then—

He pushed a finger inside.

"Ohhh—fuck—!"

Your whole body jerked, your head falling back against the couch. "Joon—!"

Namjoon groaned, his lips trailing down your throat. "Oh, princess—fuck—so tight—" His voice was wrecked, his fingers stretching you open. "You’ve been waiting for this, hmm? Letting me be clueless while you were sitting here, soaking for me?"

You could barely breathe. "J-Joonie—!"

"Bet you were thinking about this every time I touched you." His fingers curled inside you, making you arch off the couch. "Thinking about how it’d feel when I finally fucked you open—"

"YES—!"

And Namjoon grinned.

"Oh, darling—" His voice dropped, his lips brushing against your ear. "You have no idea what you just got yourself into.”

He continued his ministration, trusting his fingers in and out until he felt her throb, “that's right gorgeous— come on, cum on my fingers hmm”

And you did, your back arching against him as he kissed you.

You could barely breathe.

Your body was still shaking, your thighs trembling around Namjoon’s hand, your head thrown back against the couch.

And Namjoon?

He looked wrecked.

His lips were parted, his chest rising and falling, his fingers still buried inside you, coated in your slick.

And then—

He smirked.

"Oh, honey…" His voice dropped, low and raspy. "Look at you."

You whimpered, your whole body still twitching from your orgasm. "M-Moni—!"

He let out a low groan, his free hand cupping your jaw. "Came so pretty for me, baby…" His thumb brushed over your swollen lips. "But we’re not done."

And then—

He picked you up.

"J-Joon—!"

You gasped, your arms wrapping around his shoulders as he stood, lifting you like you weighed nothing.

Namjoon just chuckled, dark and gravelly, his grip tightening under your thighs. "Think I’m just gonna let you go after that, baby?"

Your breath hitched. "Joon wai—!"

"Oh, no, baby." His voice was low, his lips grazing over your ear as he carried you down the hall. "You wanted me to take your virginity, hmm?"

You could barely nod, your fingers clenching around his shirt. "Y-Yes, Joonie—!"

His teeth grazed your throat. "Then I’m gonna do it right, baby."

And then—

You were in his bedroom.

He dropped you onto the mattress, his big hands spreading your thighs—

And the way he looked at you—

Like he was going to devour you—

And from the way he tore his shirt off—

You knew he meant it.

Namjoon was sculpted.

Tall, broad, muscles taut under golden skin, his abs flexing as he hovered over you.

And the way he looked at you—

Like he was going to devour you—

Made your breath catch.

"J-Joon—!"

He just grinned, his fingers hooking under your hoodie. "Shhh, baby…" His voice was low, dark, as he peeled it over your head. "Let me see you."

And when you were bare beneath him—

Namjoon groaned.

"Fuck…" His hands gripped your thighs, his gaze raking over your body. "You’re so fucking beautiful."

Your cheeks burned. "J-Joon—!"

But then—

His lips were on you.

Trailing down your throat.

Over your chest.

Your stomach—

Until his head was between your thighs.

"J-Joon—!"

Your breath hitched as he kissed your inner thigh, his big hands spreading you open.

"Oh, baby…" His voice dropped, his hot breath ghosting over your slick heat. "Look at you…"

And then—

He licked you.

"OH—!"

Your whole body jerked, your fingers fisting the sheets. "J-Joon—!"

He just groaned, his hands tightening on your thighs. "Oh, baby… you taste so fucking good."

And then—

He buried his face in you.

"OH FUCK—!"

His tongue fucked into you, hot and sloppy, his lips wrapping around your clit and sucking until you were screaming.

"J-JOON—!"

His arms locked around your thighs, holding you down as you thrashed, his tongue delving deeper, his nose nudging against your clit—

And it was too much.

"J-JOONIE—!"

Your whole body arched, your thighs shaking around his head as you came—

And Namjoon?

He just groaned, lapping up every drop, fucking you through your orgasm like he was starving for you.

And when you finally collapsed, panting, trembling beneath him—

Namjoon just grinned.

"Oh, baby…" His voice was wrecked, his lips glistening as he pulled back. "I hope you’re not too tired…”

Namjoon unbuckled his belt—

And holy fuck.

Your eyes widened. "J-Joon—!"

He just grinned, his big hands pulling you up onto shaky legs. "What’s wrong, darling?" His deep voice was low, teasing as he pushed his pants down. "Getting shy now?"

Your throat went dry. "Joon—!"

Because fuck.

He was huge.

Thick, heavy, his tip already leaking as he wrapped a hand around himself—

And when he stepped closer, tilting your chin up—

You knew you were screwed.

"Come here, baby." His thumb brushed over your lips. "Open up."

Your breath hitched. "J-Joon—!"

But then—

He slid inside.

"Ohhh, fuck—!" Namjoon groaned, his head falling back, his grip tightening in your hair. "Oh, baby—fuck—your mouth is so fucking perfect—"

Your throat stretched, tears pricking your eyes as he eased in deeper, his other hand cupping your cheek. "Look at you, sweetheart… taking me so well—*"

And then—

He thrust.

"Oh, fuck—!" His voice was wrecked, his hips rolling forward, his cock filling your throat. "Shit—look at you—so pretty choking on my cock—"

Your nails dug into his thighs, saliva dripping down your chin as he fucked your mouth, his deep groans spilling into the air.

"Fuuuck—my pretty girl—fuck—" His hands fisted in your hair, his breath ragged. "Such a filthy little thing, hmm? Letting me fuck your throat before I ruin your sweet little cunt—"

And then—

He pulled out, a string of saliva connecting you—

And your whole body shook.

"Oh, princess…" His dark gaze raked over your wrecked form. "You look so fucking pretty like this."

And then—

He flipped you onto the bed.

"J-Joon—!"

"Shhh, baby…" He grinned, his big hands gripping your thighs, spreading them wide. "This is what you wanted, hmm?"

Your breath hitched. "J-Joon—!"

His cock dragged against your soaked heat, his tip teasing your entrance. "You wanted me to take your virginity, hmm?"

You could barely nod, your body trembling. "Y-Yes, Joonie—please—!"

Your breath was ragged, your body trembling beneath him as he dragged his cock against your soaked entrance—

But he still wouldn’t give it to you.

"Joonie—please—!"

Namjoon just smirked.

"What’s wrong, baby?" His deep voice was teasing, his big hands tightening on your thighs. "So desperate already?"

"Joonie—!"

Your fingers clawed at his arms, your hips lifting, trying to get him inside—

But he just chuckled, rolling his hips slowly, his thick tip teasing your clit.

"Oh, my sweet girl…" His voice was dark, gravelly, his cock dragging over your folds. "You’re so wet for me… look at you.*"

Your whole body burned. "J-Joon—!"

And then—

He pressed in.

"Ohhh, fuck—!"

Your back arched, your nails digging into his biceps—

But just as you got a taste—

He pulled out.

"J-JOON—!"

He just grinned, his lips brushing your jaw. "Not yet, baby…"

"Joonie—please—!"

"Mmm…" His teeth grazed your throat, his cock teasing your entrance again. "I don’t know, sweet heart…" His breath was hot against your ear. "Do you deserve it?"

"YES—!" Your voice was desperate, your body shaking. "Please, Joonie—please, please—!"

And then—

He thrust.

"OH FUCK—!"

Your whole body jerked, your mouth falling open as he filled you inch by inch, stretching you wide.

Namjoon let out a low groan, his forehead pressing to yours. "Oh, darling…" His voice was wrecked, his big hands gripping your waist. "You feel so fucking good—"

And then—

He pulled out.

"J-JOON—!"

"Shhh, my good girl…" His thumb brushed over your swollen lips, his cock dragging against you again. "I’m gonna make this so good for you…"

And then—

He thrust back in.

"OH—!"

His hips rolled in deep, stretching you all over again, making your head spin.

And Namjoon?

He just smirked, watching you fall apart.

"Oh, princess…" His voice was low, teasing. "You like it like this, hmm?”

Your breath came in shaky gasps, your fingers clutching at his arms as he rolled his hips slowly into you—

But he still wouldn’t go faster.

"J-Joon—please—!"

Namjoon just grinned.

"Shhh, princess…" His deep voice was low, teasing as he dragged his cock out inch by inch—

Then pushed back in at the same agonizing pace.

"Ohhh, fuck—!"

Your head thrashed against the pillow, your body arching into him, trying to make him go deeper—

But he just chuckled, his big hands gripping your waist, holding you still.

"So desperate, fuck…" His lips brushed against your ear. "But I wanna take my time with you."

"J-Joonie—!"

And then—

"Ohhh, fuck—!"

Your whole body jerked, your breath catching in your throat as a shock of pleasure shot through you—

And Namjoon?

He felt it.

His lips curled, his voice dark. "Oh, baby… you feel that?" His hips rolled slowly into you again. "Right there?"

"OH—!"

Your nails dug into his back, your thighs shaking as he brushed that perfect spot again—

And then he did it again.

"J-Joon—!"

"Mmm…" His tongue dragged over your throat, his cock pushing against that same spot, over and over. "So fucking tight, princess… squeezing me so good—"

"Joonie—please—!"

"Please what, baby?" His voice was gravelly, teasing as he rocked into you slowly, letting you feel every inch. "You want me to go faster?"

"YES—!"

"Mmm…" He grinned, his big hands pinning you down. "I don’t know, honey… you sound so pretty like this…”

"J-JOON—!"

Your whole body shook, your voice breaking as he rolled his hips into you—

Just a little faster, still dragging against that spot every time.

He slowly fastened his pace more and more, making his thrusts more intense as he fucked you.

"Ohhh, fuck—baby—" Namjoon groaned, his deep voice wrecked, his big hands tightening on your thighs. "You’re so fucking perfect—"

"J-Joonie—!"

And then—

"OH—!"

His hand slid between you, his fingers finding your clit—

And when he rubbed in slow, tight circles—

Your back arched, your breath catching in your throat.

"Ohhh, princess…" His lips curled against your jaw. "You like that, hmm?”

“Like being my cocksleeve?”

You could barely nod, your whole body trembling. "J-Joon—!"

And then—

His mouth latched onto your nipple.

"OH FUCK—!"

Your fingers fisted in his hair, your legs wrapping around him as he sucked hard, his tongue flicking against you—

All while he kept fucking you, his thick cock hitting that spot over and over, his fingers rubbing your clit just right—

Until you were screaming his name.

"Ohhh, princess…" His voice was dark, teasing as he rolled his hips deeper, sucking your nipple harder. "Let me hear you, honey…”

Your whole body jerked, your voice breaking as he rubbed your clit just right—

His cock dragging against that spot over and over—

Until you felt it.

The build-up. The heat. The way your whole body tightened—

And just when you were about to burst—

He stopped.

"J-JOON—!"

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling, your fingers gripping his arms—

But Namjoon?

He just smirked.

"Mmm…" His voice was teasing, his lips brushing your ear. "Not yet, darling…"

And before you could beg—

He flipped you over.

"OH—!"

Your back pressed against his chest, his big arms locking around you, pulling you up—

And then—

"J-JOONIE—!"

Your legs were spread wide, your body completely open to him, his strong arms trapping you in a full nelson.

"Ohhh, my pretty girl…" His breath was hot against your ear, his fingers digging into your thighs. "You look so fucking pretty like this…"

"J-Joon—please—!"

And then—

He thrust.

"OH FUCK—!"

Your whole body arched, your breath choking in your throat as he slammed back into you—

Deeper. Harder.

His hips rolling into you at a punishing pace, his cock hitting that spot over and over, sending shockwaves through you—

While his fingers rubbed your clit relentlessly.

"Ohhh, sweetheart…" His voice was wrecked, his grip tightening. "You gonna cum for me now? Hmm?”

"J-JOON—!"

Your whole body shook, your voice breaking as he slammed into you—

Deep. Hard.

His hips rolling at a brutal pace, his cock dragging against that spot over and over—

"Ohhh, baby…" His breath was hot against your ear, his deep voice wrecked. "You feel that? Hitting you right there—"

"J-Joonie—!"

"Mmm… I can feel you, princess… you’re so fucking close, aren’t you?"

Your fingers clawed at his arms, your whole body trembling in his hold—

And then—

His fingers rubbed your clit harder.

"OH FUCK—!"

A shockwave ripped through you, your head snapping back onto his shoulder, your breath choking in your throat—

And then you broke.

"J-JOON—!"

Your whole body jerked, your legs shaking as you came around him—

So hard that your walls clenched tight, your slick coating his cock, a milky ring forming around the base.

And Namjoon?

He saw it.

And he groaned.

"Ohhh, fuck—look at you, baby…" His deep voice was gravelly, his fingers tightening on your thighs. "You came all over me… so fucking pretty—"

"J-Joonie—!"

"Mmm…" His lips curled, his hips still rolling into you, dragging his cock through your orgasm, making you feel every inch. "You think I’m done with you, pretty?”

Your whole body jerked, your breath still coming in ragged gasps as he dragged his cock through your aftershocks—

And then—

"Joon—!"

He flipped you over.

"OH—!"

Your back hit the mattress, your body still trembling, your limbs still weak—

And before you could even catch your breath—

He grabbed your thighs, pushing them deep against your chest.

"J-Joonie—!"

You were folded beneath him, your legs spread wide, your body completely open to him—

And then—

"Ohhh, princess…" His voice was low, teasing, his dark eyes locked onto you. "You’re gonna take it all, hmm?"

"J-Joon—please—!"

And then—

He thrust.

"OH FUCK—!"

Your breath choked in your throat, your back arching off the bed—

Because fuck.

He was deep.

So deep that you could feel him in your stomach, so deep that it felt like he was in your soul.

"Ohhh, darling…" Namjoon groaned, his grip tightening on your thighs as he rolled his hips, dragging his cock slowly out before slamming back in. "This is where you want me, huh? This deep?*"

"J-Joonie—!"

And then—

"Mmm…" His lips curled, his hips snapping into you at a brutal pace. "You’re taking me so well, my good girl… look at you—"

You could barely think, your whole body shaking with each deep, hard thrust, his cock pounding that spot inside you so perfectly—

"J-JOON—!"

You were soaked, your whole body trembling as he slammed into you, his cock hitting that spot over and over—

And then—

"Ohhh, darling…" His deep voice was gravelly, his big hand cupping your throat as his other hand slid lower. "Look at you, my sweet little thing…"

And then—

SMACK.

"OH FUCK—!"

Your whole body jerked as his hand came down hard on your clit—

A sharp shock of pleasure-pain making you clench around him.

"Mmm… That’s my good girl. Now count for me."

"O-One—!"

SMACK.

"T-Two—!"

His cock was still pounding into you, his voice still praising you, his hand spanking your clit over and over—

Until you broke.

"J-JOON—!"

Your whole body arched, your head snapping back as you came—

So hard your eyes rolled back, your walls clenching around him, your slick coating his cock.

And Namjoon?

"Ohhh, sweetheart…" He groaned, his grip tightening on your thighs. "That was so fucking pretty…"

But he wasn’t done.

"Mmm… Get up here, darling… I wanna see you."

And before you could catch your breath—

He flipped you over.

"J-Joon—!"

Now you were on top, your legs shaky as you straddled him—

But Namjoon?

He grinned.

"Come on, sweetheart…" His voice was low, his big hands gripping your waist. "Ride me."

You tried.

But you were too weak, your body still wrecked from your orgasm—

And Namjoon?

He smirked.

"Mmm… That’s not good enough, honey…"

And then—

His hands gripped your waist tight—

And he slammed you down.

"OH FUCK—!"

You screamed, your whole body jerking as he fucked up into you, forcing you to ride him, using you to chase his high—

And when you got too weak—

"SMACK."

"AH—!"

His big hand spanked your ass, his other hand gripping your throat.

"Mmm… You wanna be my good girl, hmm?*" His voice was wrecked, his cock still thrusting up into you. "Then you’re gonna take it all.”

You were wrecked, your whole body shaking as he slammed you down on his cock, his hips still thrusting up into you—

"Mmm… That’s it, darling…" His deep voice was gravelly, his grip tight on your waist, his big hands controlling you. "Take it all, hmm? Let me use you—"

"J-Joon—!"

You couldn’t even think, couldn’t even breathe—

Your eyes were rolling back, your soft tits bouncing with every deep, hard thrust—

And fuck.

Namjoon?

He loved this sight.

"Ohhh, princess…" His breath was hot against your ear, his deep voice wrecked. "Look at you… so pretty like this, hmm? So dumb on my cock—"

"J-Joonie—!"

"Mmm… That’s my sweet girl, hmm?*" His big hand gripped your throat, tilting your chin up so he could see your fucked-out face. "My perfect little fucktoy—"

And then—

"Ohhh, sweetheart—fuck—!"

His hips snapped up one last time, his grip tightening on you—

And he came.

"J-Joon—!"

You felt it, felt his cock throb inside you, felt him fill you up—

Deep. Deep inside you.

So much that you could feel it dripping out, so hot that it made you shudder in his hold.

And Namjoon?

"Mmm… That’s it, sweetheart…" His deep voice was low, his hips still rolling into you, making you feel every last drop. "Take it all.”

You were soaked, still dripping with his cum, your whole body shaking in his arms—

And then—

"Mmm…" Namjoon grinned, his deep voice teasing. "I’m not done with you yet, darling…"

And before you could even catch your breath—

He flipped you over.

"OH—!"

Now you were upside down, your legs draped over his shoulders, your head tilted against his lap—

And then—

"Mmm, sweetheart…" His voice was low, his big hands spreading your thighs wide. "Look at this messy little pussy…"

And then—

His tongue dragged through your folds.

"J-Joon—!"

"Mmm… You’re so sweet, baby…" His deep voice was wrecked, his tongue lapping at your soaked, wrecked pussy, savoring the creampie he just gave you. "Tasting myself on you like this—fuck—"

You could barely think, your whole body jerking as he devoured you, his big hands holding your hips still—

And then—

"Mmm, sweetheart…" His cock pressed against your lips. "You wanna be my good girl again?"

"J-Joon—!"

You nodded, your lips parting, taking him deep into your mouth—

And Namjoon?

"Ohhh, fuck—" His deep groan vibrated against your pussy, his cock throbbing against your tongue. "That’s it, baby… Take me deep—"

You hollowed your cheeks, your throat relaxing as his hips snapped up, fucking your mouth just as thoroughly as he fucked your pussy—

And when you whimpered, when you moaned around him—

He sucked hard on your clit.

"J-JOON—!"

And then—

"Ohhh, sweetheart—fuck—"

His hips jerked, his breath ragged—

And he came.

Hot. Deep down your throat.

And you?

You swallowed every last drop.

"Mmm… That’s my good girl, hmm?" His deep voice was sweet, his big hands stroking your body as he gently flipped you back over—

And then—

He kissed you.

"Sweetheart…" His voice was soft now, his lips pressing against your temple, his arms holding you close. "You did so well for me, hmm?"

You whimpered, your whole body still buzzing—

And Namjoon?

"Mmm… Let’s get you cleaned up, princess…"

He just smiled.

Because fuck.

He adored you.

#bts smut #bts x reader #park jimin #jimin smut #fluff #namjoon #bts army #bts jin #bts jungkook #fantasy #namjoon smut #kim namjoon #bts smau #bts scenarios #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x you #big tiddy committee

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brunettemarionette · 2 months ago

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@limepietheatric

𝗗𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻

𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐎𝐩𝐢𝐞!

Opie is that rare combination of calm presence and underlying intensity, much like your own mellow-but-hotheaded nature. He’s deeply physical and affectionate with the people he loves, and he respects independence without smothering — perfect for someone who’s private but craves real connection. Opie doesn’t push for you to open up, but when you do, he'd treasure it. His loyalty and "what you see is what you get" honesty would match your hatred of fakery and passive-aggression, and his quiet openness would make you feel safe being yourself.

𝗛𝗼𝘄 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗠𝗲𝘁

You met Opie through mutual friends (likely someone dragging you to a club party you had zero interest in). You weren't looking for anything; you were just vibing, joking around, telling hilarious stories while nursing a drink. Opie clocked you right away not because you were loud or flashy, but because you were so easy in your own skin. He liked how you didn't try to impress anyone, and when you caught him watching and threw him a quick smirk, something just clicked. The two of you spent the night bantering casually, not flirting heavily at first but your natural teasing and his subtle deadpan humour started sparking fast. He walked you to your car that night, a long easy silence hanging between you, and neither of you wanted to be the first to leave.

𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀

You pull him out of bad moods without even trying. Your mellow nature helps him decompress after club stress, and your rants make him genuinely laugh which is rare for him.

You touch each other constantly. Quick kisses, a hand resting on his arm when you're talking, casual hugs from behind when he's working — he drinks it up like water.

You’re his number one hype-person. You don't coddle him, but you're fiercely encouraging whenever he doubts himself. He quietly worships the way you believe in him.

You have playful arguments over stupid things. (Pineapple on pizza, which song is better, who makes better pancakes.) It always ends with laughter and making out.

He keeps a few of your paintings tucked away where no one can see. They’re little reminders of you that he stares at when he misses you.

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗵𝗶𝗽 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗽𝗲𝘀

"Silent Communication" — just one look across a crowded room and you know what the other is thinking.

"Healing Each Other Without Making It a Whole Thing" — you're both too blunt for drawn-out "let's talk about our trauma" conversations, but you still heal just by being around each other.

"You're Trouble, But You're My Trouble" — he teases you about the chaos you bring but he loves every minute of it.

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗟𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲

Physical Touch — Words are hard sometimes, especially for him but putting his arm around you, brushing your hair out of your eyes, tugging you into his lap after a long day? That's his "I love you" fluently spoken.

𝗗𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀

You steal his sweatshirts constantly. He pretends to be annoyed but low-key loves seeing you in them.

You guys cook messy meals together. You're way better at it, but he insists on helping — and you have flour fights that end with him pinning you against the counter, laughing.

You paint little designs on old motorcycle parts. Opie brings you busted parts he "can't fix" just because he loves seeing what you'll turn them into.

Sunday mornings are sacred. No club stuff, no calls — just lazy mornings in bed, bad TV, and you sprawled half on top of him.

You're the only person allowed to cut his hair or beard. It becomes this soft ritual — you standing on your toes trimming his beard, him staring at you like you're magic.

#match ups #pair ups #headcanons #fandoms #ships #aesthetic pairing #pairing #soa #sons of anarchy #soa ship #sons of anarchy ship #sons of anarchy pairing #soa pairing #opie winston soa #opie winston

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witchthewriter · 2 years ago

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𝑆ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑓𝑜𝑟 @crazylurkercatlady.

𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐋

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐼 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢, 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑜𝑢𝑏𝑡𝑒𝑑𝑙𝑦, 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑎 𝑀𝑎𝑥𝑖𝑚𝑜𝑓𝑓! I think you two would be THE perfect couple! Like two witchy mums who everyone goes to when they feel sad or unsafe or in need of comfort. She would love you with every part of her being. No matter what you've done, she would accept you wholeheartedly.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

She always wakes up before you and LOVES making you breakfast in bed. It's always a range of toast and tea to pancakes and juice, to sausages and scrambled eggs with coffee. She likes trying new things with her cooking

She shows her love by doing the chores that you dislikes doing. And once you realise what she was doing, you do the same for her.

She writes you love letters all the time and leaves them around the house, in drawers, tucked beneath clothes.

Always gives you her undivided attention when you need to vent, or when you need advice or need to tell someone about how shitty everything is going.

You love gathering herbs, plants, and ingredients for witchy things. Like potions, balms and ointments. It's a bonding experience that you'll never forget. Two cauldrons, bubbling with glowing light, candles floating around you, the night sky watching through the windows. It was amazing.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

More Than A Woman by the Midnite String Quartet

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Home Is Wherever You Are

More Alike Than Different

The Moon and Her Star

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Redemption

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

Your creativity, that you love painting, exploring, your love for books and your loyalty. There's too much about you that she loves - she can't just pick one. You have an innate otherworldliness that Wanda picked up on when you first met, like you weren't meant for earth - but here you are.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Thor! He really brings out your outgoing side. With him, you don't care whose in the room, because Thor can handle anything and being around him makes you feel like you could take on the world.

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

A mixture of Yelena, Nat, and Thor! You have to remember that you are a Leo Sun, Cancer Rising - the two most magnificent and alluring placements. People cannot help but be drawn to you. There's so much light and intuition that you possess, it's astounding.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

You have two birds that visit everyday that Wanda feeds from hand.

And you have your favourite pets; two cats named Artemis & Athena.

𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐼 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐼𝑠𝑎𝑎𝑐 𝐿𝑎ℎ𝑒𝑦! He is such a puppy, to me he definitely has Pisces in his chart - he's loving as well as loveable, intuitive, emotional. He seems to have the ISFJ personality type; the defender/protector. He's soft-spoken, gentle and well-mannered. I think you would feel very soft in this relationship.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Whenever Isaac is feeling down, you continuously remind him that he's loved, valued and appreciated on days when he's feeling down.

Since you two would be around the same age - meaning you both know technology and how phones work. You both send each other lots of memes, Tik Toks, etc.

You constantly have to remind him of appointments, or to drink something (he's so bad at drinking water)

Daydreams about you, even though he knows he's going to see you soon. He just loves you so much.

He's always excited to plan date night, this side of him is only for you - it's special. So special to see him like this, caring so much, giving so much of himself to you.

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Goodnight Sweet Possums by John Powell

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Pair of walking disasters who cannot function without the other

Would Die For Each Other

“I care about you!” (You) x “You shouldn’t!” (Isaac)

𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Everyone Knows But You Two

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

How you don't judge him, how much thought you put into things; how much you care about those you love. You're brilliant at gift giving, able to get the absolute perfect gift (it didn't have to be expensive but what the person needs). And Isaac would start to see how others interact, what issues other people had - rather than be wrapped up in his own. You, without knowing it, make him a better person.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Allison and Lydia! I think you three in a sort of ... girl group, would be very interesting. You would be the one to cross the bridge between the pair, be the glue. But you would also have ties to Beacon Hills - possibly you come from a long line of family witches?

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

A mix of Allison, Scott and Stiles. Open-minded, quick-witted, caring, a bit of a motherly side. You care about people, you want to help others, but also like being on your own, you like your solitude.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

A huge, mostly black cat with white hair. He's your familiar, and follows you almost everywhere (except into dangerous situations or when you go to the mall).

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐘

𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

𝐼 𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑝 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑏𝑠 𝑇𝑒𝑙𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑑! The most knowledgable, wise and witty of the Sons. I think he would be a great match for you because even though he isn't as chaotic, he's still silly and loves cracking jokes. He's humorous, and when you're together - that humour is off the charts.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔

Chibs always has a knack for making you feel safe. Even when he isn't there, you know that you're safe. You don't mind having a Prospect over when they're doing particularly dangerous things, so long as he keeps to himself.

When Chibs is home, he gives you the best affection possible. Hugs, kisses, stroking your hair, letting you fall asleep on him, caring you to bed, forehead kisses. You'd be touch-starved no longer.

He loves having you on his bike. You're the only other person who is allowed to sit on the bike by yourself.

He's kept every promise you have ever told him and vice versa

Type of person to purchase little gifts that made Chibs think of you

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Hurricane by Possessed Paul James

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

Cautious (You) x Reckless (Chibs) he always says, "life's short sweet heart - let's make the most of it, eh?"

"You wear the pants in this relationship" (You said to him) x "oh I wish, I cannot control you at all" (His response)

Gives Necklace x Wears It Everyday No Matter What

��𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Enemies to Lovers

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒇𝒂𝒗𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖

He loves how feral you can become. Chaotic, frenzied and hyper. He loves that energy because it makes him feel young, it makes him feel energised. You are unlike any other person he'd known. Yes you can have similarities to others, but the core of you is so interesting, the way your brain works - it blows his mind.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

Tara! You both have a maturity that not many in this club/family do. You also cannot believe HOW she's a full-on doctor, and a full-time mother. You constantly commend her, and remind her of that. And if she ever needs help, you'll be there (somehow you do end up helping with the boys a lot.)

𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒄𝒉 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆

I think you're a mix of Tara; maturity, intelligence, kindness, Gemma; sense of self-preservation, hypervigilance, wit and self-awareness and Opie; introspective, loyal, committed and a great companion.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒑𝒆𝒕

You have two cats

Your first is the beautiful fluffy white one and most recently, you got a black and white kitten. Funnily enough, they actually get on very well. Chibs isn't much of a dog person, and actually likes cats a lot.

Btw I also have ADHD & Autism! I would love to hear your experiences and what has helped you. I only got my diagnosis a few months ago, but everything seemed to make so much more sense. Everything I used to get painfully in trouble for, was actually a response from my brain that I could not control. Knowing that has brought up so much emotion from me and it's hard.

#witchthewriter #personal aesthetic #pair ups #match ups #sons of anarchy #soa pair up #soa match up #marvel pair up #marvel match up #plot tropes

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fanfictionsweetheart · 2 months ago

Text

Third Times the Charm-ing

Pairing: Jax Teller x Reader

Summary: Jax has been married twice before and swore he was burnt out on love, until he met her. And he thinks maybe this time he’s got it right. Maybe this time his family will stay together.

Trigger/Content Warning(s): light angst at the start, tooth rotting fluff, domestic bliss

Word Count: 1611

A/N: It’s 2AM and I can’t sleep, so have another Fic. I think this is one of my favorite SOA Oneshots I’ve written. Cross posting from my ao3. I love Tara, but I needed a reason for them to not be together in this Fic. I don’t know, I just like this one.

Jax had been lost since Tara left him. Left the boys. She had threatened for months to just take the boys and leave. But realizing that she would have to deal with a lengthy court battle to take custody from Jax just to spite him had led her to just leaving and abandoning her family. The last words she spoke to Jax were that she never wanted to be a mother or raise another woman’s child.

He couldn’t believe how she could abandon him like that.

How she could abandon their boys like that.

She paid child support but didn’t visit the boys and rarely called them.

Jax had to watch his sons cry every night and ask why Mommy left them. And supporting them was all he had to keep from spiraling. His sons needed him.

He could still feel the sting of his mother’s slap all these years later from when he was already giving up on Abel right after he was born with severe health risks.

That sting which had literally knocked some sense into him had saved him from that spiral. And he had thought that his heart had hardened completely to love. And then he met his new neighbor. A child psychologist of all things.

Meeting when her chocolate lab, Makoto, dug under the fence to play with his boys.

He remembered how she blushed telling him she named the dog after her favorite character from an anime she loved. Makoto Kino, Sailor Jupiter, from Sailor Moon. He’d never heard of the show but asked then listened as she explained why she liked the character. All while his sons ran around and played with the playful and lovable dog.

Everything from there moved so smoothly.

She gave him gentle advice with ways of helping the boys cope without the only mother they had ever known. She would watch them if he needed help. It had even become a habit of hers when she took Makoto for a walk to stop by and and pick up the boys to bring with her.

He didn’t realize that he had fallen for her until the first party his mother had invited her too. Trying to get him to make a move. She’d realized how he was feeling before he did. As usual.

When he saw her laughing while talking to some of the guys. And how she could shoot a damn good game of pool.

She fit in better than anyone before. Better than Wendy and definitely better than Tara.

They spent the night in his dorm. They didn’t even have sex that night, rather made out like teenagers and lay side by side talking into the early hours of the morning and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

She kissed him goodbye that morning as she drove home to check on her dog. (Who was a total hit with the guys as well as his kids).

He took her on an official first date the week after.

A month later they were official.

A year later she was moving into his home.

Three months after that she found out she was pregnant.

One month after finding out he proposed.

Seven months after that their daughter Serena was born.

Now three months later they were planning a real wedding. And he was so happy to come home to a house full of love and peace.

(Name) brought him peace.

Something he hadn’t ever truly known.

He came home to a house where there was food cooking and happy children and a dog. A picket fence life he was shocked to find he liked.

Today he walked in to smell a roast in the oven, it was one of her favorite things to make on her days off. He grinned as he heard the excited voices of his sons in the living room. He walked in and laughed as he saw boxes of pony beads all over the table and floor a tub of already made bracelets on the table. His sons jumped up and ran over to hug him screaming happily.

“Did a craft store blow up in here?” He teased his fiancé.

“I am making friendship bracelets for the preteen and teen group therapy day camp I’m doing this summer. It starts tomorrow and A goal of mine is that the first bracelet they get from will be from me but will not be the last.” She explained looking up at him and smiling.

She finished tying the stretchy thread on the bracelet she had just made and put it in the tub. She stood up and walked over to press a kiss to his lips.

“Thomas and Abel wanted to play too so they made some pipe cleaner charms that I can use as reward badges for the kids I’m counseling.” She said, “And they are the best little helpers.”

Jax smiled, “They’re the best boys ever.” He said making the boys grin, “How about you two go play with Koto out back.”

The boys cheered and ran out the backdoor to do just that. Jax wrapped his arms around (Name) and kissed her once more. She smiled, the love she felt from him made her heart swell. Before they could say or do anything else the sounds of Serena fussing through the baby monitor on the table had them breaking apart and laughing.

“Go check on our girl, I’ll watch our boys.” (Name) said making Jax beam at her as she called Thomas and Abel her boys.

—

(Name) didn’t return to the beads and bracelets until after all the kids had been put in bed for the night. Jax joined her in the den smiling as she went back to work on her project while they had a movie playing on the TV. He just watched her though, smiling.

“You want to make one?” She asked without looking up from her current bracelet.

“Nah, I’m not creative like you.” He said.

“Come on, have some fun.” (Name) teased and stuck her tongue out at him.

Jax laughed, “Alright, alright, you win.” He teased.

“Always do.” She giggled, “Won you didn’t I?”

“Won me, huh? I mean I am a prize catch.” He laughed with that cocky grin she loved so much.

“I mean, you’re a little banged up for a trophy...but...definitely more than a consolation prize.” She winked.

“Banged up?” He asked.

“Three baby mamas, three kids, soon to be three wives?” She joked.

“Ha, okay, I get it, I got some mileage on me.” He admitted, “But I mean...third time’s the charm right?”

“Oh my god!” (Name) laughed and shook her head, bumping his knee with her shoulder from her place on the floor, “Asshole.”

“You love me.” He said leaning down and kissing her temple.

“I do.” She said and turned her head to catch his lips with a kiss before he sat back up.

They sat in silence for a moment while he worked on his bracelet. Taking more letter beads than she expected. She wondered what he was making. He watched how she tied it off and followed along. He sat back when he was done, playing with the bracelet he had made.

When she finished for the night and stood up stretching he helped her pick up and shut the movie off. He went to put her tub of bracelets in the trunk she had in their bedroom for all of her work craft stuff. Before they went to check on all the kids.

Stopping first at the boys room they peeked in the cracked door. Abel, Thomas, and Makoto were all curled up in Abel’s toddler bed sleeping soundly. Jax smiled at the sight. The soft shine of their motorcycle shaped night light glowing to keep the monsters of their nightmares away.

They checked on Serena who was sleeping so deeply. They watched her for a moment, arms around each other. Her soft baby snores warning their hearts.

“We made that.” Jax murmured.

“We did. And she’s perfect. So are the boys. Our family is perfect.” (Name) said.

Jax smiled and kissed her quickly before they walked back to their bedroom and he grabbed her wrist before she could pull her pajamas out of the dresser.

“Hey, I never showed you the bracelet I made.” He said.

“It’s not in that tub is it?” (Name) laughed because finding it would be nearly impossible.

“No, I kept it out, because I made it for you.” He said.

She let him slip it on her wrist and when she read it she laughed.

THIRD TIMES THE CHARM

Was spelled out in black and white plastic beads surrounded with light pink and dark green pony beads. He remembered the colors Sailor Jupiter wears. She laughed and shoved his shoulder playfully.

“How romantic.” She teased.

“I’m all about that fairy tail, baby.” he said and pulled her into a kiss.

She laughed and called him an idiot against his lips before kissing back.

—

The next morning (Name) was getting ready when Jax woke up. She kissed him and promised to be home by six. She was going to be dropping the kids off with Gemma while she worked at her day camp.

He kissed her again and said he would see her that evening.

He helped her get the kids ready and into the car before waving as she drove off. A smile stayed on his lips.

Not in the least because when he leaned in to kiss her through her car window he saw that she was wearing that silly little kandi bracelet he had made her the night before.

End.

#my work #sweetheartfic #fluff #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #soa #soa x you #soa x reader #jax teller #jax teller x reader #jax teller x you

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 2 years ago

Note

Chibs with a reader around the same age as Juice and they do it on Chibs’s bike at the club house thinking nobody is there but they get caught by a few of the members

Teach Me How to Ride.

Synopsis - Chibs is teaching you how to ride (in more ways than one).

Pairing - Filip 'Chibs' Telford x Female Reader

Warnings - smut. cursing. age gap.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 1k

Author's Note - thank you SO much for this request, anon. it made me feral. that old man owns me and i'm not sorry about it. always open to SOA and chibs requests. <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Any weekend plans, darlin'?"

You smile at the blonde man sat on the other side of the bar you're wiping down.

"Nothing too exciting. I think I'm gonna try and get out on my bike."

His brows raise in curiosity.

"You have a bike now?"

"Yeah. Chibs is teaching me how to ride."

"I bet he is."

You roll your eyes at the snickers that come from the other guys who are dotted around the room.

"Real mature, Jax."

"Is he charging you for these lessons, or are you paying him in other ways?"

You put down your cloth and look up.

"I'll jump over this bar and beat your ass right now, Tig. Don't think I won't."

They all laugh, and you can't help but chuckle along with them. You know they mean well. They'd do anything for you, in a heartbeat.

Eventually, the sun sets, and all of the guys make their way home. You've been restocking the bar, not minding staying a little later if it means you get the job done.

You're crouched down filling the fridge when you hear a familiar Scottish accent echo though the clubhouse.

"You still here, sweetheart?"

You stand up and smile at him, grinning wider when he reciprocates.

"Still here. Trying to get my shit done."

"That's my girl. Always working ten times harder than the rest of us."

You laugh, throwing him a beer.

"You're here late. How did the run go?"

"All good, nothing to worry about," he winks.

You think back to Jax's comment earlier, and decide you've had enough of avoiding the truth. You want answers. You also just kind of want to know what he'll say.

"Why does everyone think we're fucking?"

Chibs practically chokes on his drink, taken aback by your sudden brashness.

"What?"

"You heard me."

He takes a moment to process, before a slow smile etches itself onto his face.

"Why do you ask that?"

"Just something Jax said earlier."

"Ignore that bastard. He doesn't think before he speaks."

You chuckle in agreement, finishing up your jobs for the day.

"You wan' a ride home?"

You nod gratefully, making sure to lock up before walking over to where Chibs is leaning against his bike. He's parked by the door, under the shelter, obscured from the yard. He slips a helmet onto your head, before standing in front of you to do up the buckle. His rough fingertips slide under your chin, clasping the straps in place. He swipes a thumb over your bottom lip gently, eyes never leaving your face.

"You're too good for me," he murmurs. "Pretty young thing like you."

"Everyone already thinks we're fucking anyway," you whisper, smirk on your face.

He chuckles lowly, before leaning in to capture your lips with his. He kisses you with need, unbuckling the helmet he just put on you and dropping it to the ground. He's grabbing at you - your hips, your ass, anywhere he can find. You've got your hands tangled in his hair, yanking roughly when he bites your lip.

The two of you waste no time. Chibs is shrugging his jacket off while unbuttoning your pants, pulling them down. You're fumbling with his belt, undoing his jeans with shaky hands. You're both high on adrenaline, desperate to feel the other person. He smashes his lips back to yours and you groan, reveling in the way he tastes like smoke and peppermint.

Chibs grabs your hips and walks you backwards, twirling you around so you're bent over his bike. You can't help but laugh, remembering what Jax had said.

"What?" he chuckles into your ear, hot and heavy against your back.

"Nothing," you giggle. "I'll tell you later. You gonna fuck me, old man, or just stand there?"

He growls under his breath and smacks your ass as punishment, smirking when you whine.

"You gonna ask me nicely, sweetheart?"

At this point, you're not above begging. Besides, you know it'll do wonders for his ego, and you don't entirely mind that.

"Please, Chibs," you whinge. "Waited so long for this."

"Oh, ya have?" he coos. "Better not keep you waitin' then."

In one smooth thrust he slides home, both of you groaning in unison. He plants a hand on the back of your neck, the other with a firm grip on your hip, providing him with leverage. He sets a steady, even pace, careful not to knock the bike over.

He tilts his hips upwards a little and you keen, seeing stars.

"Right there? Yeah? That's it, isn't it?"

You only nod in response, holding onto the motorcycle for dear life. You trust him, though. You know he won't let you fall.

"Fuck, darlin'. You feel so good."

"So close," you choke out.

"I know, I know. Can feel you squeezin' me. Come on, that's it. Good girl."

The lilt of his accent combined with the glide of his hips is lethal, sending you over the edge in no time. You see stars, heart racing and mind blank.

Your undoing is also Chibs'. He groans as he finds his release, leaning over to rest his head between your shoulders. You're both panting, chests heaving as you recover.

After a moment, the bike groans, and you both jump up, laughing as you do it. You're redressing, Chibs stealing kisses from you, when you hear a voice cut through the darkness.

"Well, shit. I was only kidding earlier."

You can hear Jax's teasing drawl before he comes into view, cocky smirk drawn across his face.

You groan as Chibs rolls his eyes and throws his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. Both of you know you're not going to hear the end of this for a long time.

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short-honey-badger · 1 month ago

Text

Soft spot in a black heart

Pairing: Tig Trager x Female Reader

Summary: Agent Stahl blackmails you and Tig into doing her dirty work and well, things get dirty after the job goes sideways.

Tags: Viginal sex, dirty talk, cunnilingus, pussy drunk Tig, Tig is his warning, possessive behavior, minor character death, and guns. SoA elements.

The two of you stare at Agent Stahl, twin looks of disbelief painting your faces. There was no way that this self-righteous cunt was blackmailing you and Tig into doing her dirty work, but here she was, staring at the both of you with that smug look on her face. She cocks her head to the side and sits back in the booth, pushing forward the manilla folder to your side of the table.

“It’s either this, or both of you face jail time. Actually, most likely the death penalty for all the shit you’ve pulled over the years,” Stahl drawls, and you want to slap the smarmy look right off her damn face.

You see Tig gritting his teeth beside you, his eyes narrowing and knuckles turning white where he grips his dark jeans. He looks seconds away from throwing himself over the table, so you reach out and grip his thigh, ignoring the way he instantly stills under your touch.

You understand his rage, you are just as pissed off. It doesn’t help that the two of you have never gotten on since you joined SAMCRO. The men you now called family weren’t too keen on having a woman out doing the dirty work, but Clay allowed you to stay, so all they could really do was bitch about it.

“We’ll do it,” you hiss lowly and snatch the folder with your free hand, pushing it inside your leather jacket, “But this makes us even.”

Stahl smirks, satisfied, and crosses her arms over her chest, “Good. Glad to see that someone in that little club of yours has some sense.”

You sneer, eyes narrowing, and slide out of the booth, flipping her the bird in response as you lope out of the cafe you and Tig had met her in.

Tig crowds you against his bike the moment the two of you are outside, lips pulled up in a snarl and eyes blazing with fury. His hands land on his seat, bracketing you in as he looms over your smaller form. You stare right back, trying your damnedest not to be intimidated by the dangerous man.

“Don’t you ever speak for me again, _. You’re at the bottom of this food chain, don’t forget that,” Tig snarls down at you, and you grit your teeth, hands coming up and shoving at his chest. Surprisingly, he allows you to push him away from you.

“You would’ve gotten us locked up and killed Tig. I did us a favor,” you hiss and shove past the sergeant-at-arms. You can feel his eyes on you as you sling a leg over the seat of your bike, then slide your helmet over your head, glaring at him from behind the visor, “I’ll see you at the clubhouse.”

Tig snarls wordlessly and kicks the road. He’s pissed that they were being blackmailed, but he was more furious over the fact that you had been roped into this. He’d be stuck with a woman when this was a man’s world that you lived in. It was bad enough that Stahl had shit on them, but working with you was the last straw.

It wasn’t like Tig hated you, far from it in reality. He actually found you incredibly fucking hot, and his cock still hadn’t gone down from where you’d grabbed his thigh in the diner. There was a soft spot for you deep in his black heart, and Tig didn’t want to see you hurt. Not when he knew that everyone got hurt in this line of business.

Tig would much rather see you dressed in skimpy clothes, waiting for him back at the clubhouse, that infuriating smirk on your face, and a beer in hand. He’d never had an old lady before, had never wanted one, but you? Damn it all, Tig Trager wanted you to be his.

He huffs at himself and slides onto his bike. There was no point in dreaming when you didn’t want anything to do with a man like him. Tig shoves those thoughts away and kicks off in the direction of the clubhouse. Clay would be waiting for him.

-----

Two days later found you and Tig cruising down the highway, the sun shining and heating the blacktop. Any other day and it would be a nice day to go for a ride, but the knowledge of being under Stahl's thumb made you a cranky bastard. It didn't help that Tig had literally dragged you out of bed this morning.

The sergeant of arms had burst into your room like he owned the place, ripping the blanket off you and sending you sprawling to the floor in all your naked glory. Your being nude must have caught Tig off guard because you'd gotten a jacket thrown in your face and got to witness a blush spread across his face as he demanded that you hurry up and get ready. You'd blinked at him, confused why your being nude had affected Tig so much before, ultimately shrugging and taking your time in getting ready.

Afterwards, you'd tried to give him back his leathers, you had your own after all, but he ignored you each time, so you'd shrugged and just kept it slung around your shoulders. It was honestly comfy, all warm and cozy-like.

Tig watches you from behind, brain replaying this morning over and over again. He'd seen thousands of naked women over the years, but seeing you had sent him spiraling. You were tan under the many layers you insisted on wearing, your body covered in scars and burn marks from the rough life that you'd lived before finding a home with SAMCRO. It made something dark and dangerous rear its head when he'd seen the marks, and if Tig didn't already know that the people who made those marks weren't already dead. Well, he would have hunted them down himself.

But seeing you in his leathers soothed that dark beast inside of him. It looked right, felt right, to see you wearing his jacket laid across your shoulders. It made it look like you belonged to him, and anyone with eyes would see that, too.

He couldn't help but wonder what you would look like all splayed out on his bed, tan skin on display and ripe for the taking. Tig wanted to leave his own marks behind, show the guys who pined after you at the shop and during club meetings who you belonged to. Tig wanted to own you, mind and body. He shifts in his seat, rolling his eyes at the hard-on straining in his pants. You had him acting like a teen.

A couple of hours later, the two of you are pulling off an exit and to the only gas station for the next hundred miles. You pull off your helmet and shake your hair from your face with a grimace, crinkling your nose when you run your hand through your helmet hair. You never did like wearing it for so long for that exact reason. Tig pulls up beside you and kicks the stand out, sliding off his bike to shadow you inside once you are ready.

Tig glares with a curl of his lips when he catches the grocer leering at you and closes the distance to cover you from view. They were in unfamiliar territory, and he wasn’t about to risk anything, especially you.

“Hydrate yourself,” you say after snagging a water bottle from the cooler. You toss it at Tig, and he catches it with a roll of his eyes.

“Yes, dear,” he draws and pauses when he notices the way your cheeks flush and how quickly you look away from him. Curious, Tig closes the distance, close enough that he can feel the heat you put off.

“What else you gettin’, sweetheart?”

You flush further, eyes going wide, and your body warming at the use of the pet names. Plenty of the men you lived around had called you all sorts of terms of endearment, but hearing it from Tig makes your stomach cramp and your thighs press tightly with arousal. You force the feelings away with a deep breath and settle on a nonchalant shrug.

“Whatever catches my eye, I guess, Tig.”

Even though the sergeant at arms could get on your nerves more easily than others, you could still be civil with the man. It wasn’t that you disliked him, either, but his erratic behavior threw you off more often than not.

You don’t see the way he bites his bottom lip, his eyes going half-lidded as he follows you through the aisles of the store. He grabs a few snacks of his own, easy things that would be able to be eaten on the road, and another couple that he sees you consider before passing over. When you seem to be done, Tig follows you to the counter where the two of you dump your goods to be scanned.

“Pretty thing like you ought not be hanging around with a guy like him, eh, girly?”

You snap your eyes up, narrowing them in disgust, but Tig speaks up before you can.

If looks could kill, the grocer would be a pile of ash on the floor. Tig steps close to you, his front pressing against your back as he raises a hand to settle it along your waist, fingers curling in a possessive hold without thinking.

“How about you mind your own fuckin’ business, Mitch?” Tig rumbles, eyes flashing down to the name tag that the other man wears.

You tense at the unexpected touch before forcing yourself to relax, making a show of leaning into Tig and allowing him to take your weight. You cock your head, giving Mtch an innocent smile.

“You should listen to him, Mitch. I’ve seen him kill men for less,” you murmur sweetly. Mitch flicks his eyes between the two of you before he sneers with a scoff and begins to scan your items. Conflict diverted, and you go to move away from Tig, only to find that your partner is keeping you still, his grip turning harsh but not painful. He doesn’t bother to let you go until it’s time to pay, and you watch with a tight chest as he tosses enough cash on the counter to cover everything and gas for both of your bikes.

“I can stand up for myself, ya know,” you comment once the two of you are outside. You grab the plastic bag from Tig and sort through it, grabbing your stuff to be packed away into the saddlebags that hang from your bike. Tig shrugs and uncaps the bottle of water you’d tossed at him earlier, draining it in one go before tossing it into the closest bin.

“Sure you can, baby girl,” He draws and watches blatantly, wanting to see that cute blush from earlier, and you don’t disappoint.

“What’s with all the pet names all of a sudden, huh?” you ask, tone coming off a bit more snappy than you had intended. You knew Tig was a flirt, all the men in the M.C. were, but this deliberateness was new.

Tig cocks his head to the side, looking at you with those wild, blue eyes that make you squirm in place. He then nods at you, and you look down to see his jacket still seated snug around your shoulders, before cutting your eyes back up to see him giving you a smug, shit-eating grin.

“Makes it look like you're my ol’ lady, don’t it, sweetheart?”

You frown, reaching up to pull his jacket off, not caring for what he is trying to insinuate, but Tig is moving before you can even get it off one shoulder. A big hand grabs your own, where you have a hold of the lapels. The hold he has on you isn’t painful, but it’s tight enough for you to really give notice.

“Keep it on,” Tig murmurs and pushes his jacket back up, warm hands smoothing over your shoulders with a surprising gentleness, “Please.”

You meet his eyes, searching them and finding a franticness that usually isn’t present, that makes you soften. You nod once, face feeling like a pit of lava.

“Okay, Tig.”

Trager feels himself relaxed, shoulders slumping, and that bolt of panic receding like it had never been there in the first place. He grins down at you, wide and wolf-like. Following his instincts, he dips his head and presses a kiss to your brow before pulling away, that grin still bright as ever, “Thanks, sweetheart.”

Before you can question the sergeant at arms, Tig leaves you, sliding away to toss his leg over his bike and start it up with a loud rumble like he hadn’t just rocked your entire foundation. You watch him press his helmet down and slide his sunglasses over his face. He turns and looks at you, head cocking to the side.

“You comin’ or what, baby?”

-------

“Fucking Stahl!” you snarl and duck behind the counter, “Last time we ever fo shit for that smarmy cunt.”

This "errand" of hers had gone to shit within the first couple of minutes, and you couldn’t help but think that you and Tig were set up. All that you'd been tasked with was to grab a witness who had been taken by a gang on the outskirts of Arizona. SAMCRO didn't have any dealings with them, so apparently, to Stahl, they'd been the perfect candidates for the job. You knew that the agent wanted SAMCRO to go down, but you didn't think she wanted you guys dead. Not like this, at least.

"I knew this was a bad fuckin' idea, baby. Should have let me call the shots," Tig grouches and grabs you by the back of his cut, yanking you away from the shitty cover.

You fall into him, scrambling to righten yourself and pop up to fire your sidearm out the open window, grinning with feral glee when you hear a scream of pain on the other side. Tig wants to kiss the life out of you at the sight of your bloodlust, his cock hard and aching in his jeans. You had no idea how fucking amazing you looked right now, hair all akimbo and teeth bared like the animal Tig knew you were.

You might be a woman, but you'd proven time and time again that you could hold your own just as well as any man.

“And get dragged to prison where I'd never see any of you guys again? Hell no,” you snap back and duck back against Tig when there is returning gunfire.

“Whole fucking thing is a bust anyway. They killed the hostage before we even got here.”

The two of you had found one Ethan Wilson, a former ATF agent, dead and gone the moment Tig had kicked down the door to the supposed safe house. The former agent looked like he'd been dead for at least a day, with how bloated his body looked. Hell had broken loose moments after.

The gang that Stahl had sent the two of you after had descended on the safe house like a flock of vultures, at least seven of them and armed to the teeth. You counted yourself lucky that Tig never went anywhere without the proper equipment.

The two of you trade shots, thankfully having the advantage of better cover inside the house. The shootout feels like it lasts a lifetime, but couldn't have been longer than a couple of minutes by the time the last gang member falls to the ground, dead. You are breathing heavily, chest heaving, and gun smoking from where it dangles from your fingers.

You turn to Tig, about to demand that they get the hell out of here, when the sergeant of arms crowds you against the counter, hands gripping your hips and lifting you with ease to sit on the counter. You grip his shoulders, eyes going wide when he takes your legs and wraps them around his waist.

Tig can't help himself. He's been good, giving you ample time to turn him away, but never once have you told him to stop. You liked him, wanted him, and Trager knew it. He raises a hand, gripping you by the jaw before he leans in and seals his lips against your own in a searing kiss. His tongue darts out, forcing past your lips to curl around your own slick muscle.

Adrenaline running high, you kiss him back, fingers sliding up into curly hair to grip tightly and push him into you. His facial hair scrapes and burns against your lips, but it just makes the embrace that much sweeter. You don't care that the two of you still stink of road sweat and gunpowder; you don't care about the cooling bodies outside the safe house. All you want now is for Tig Trager to fuck you dumb.

Tig pulls away, pressing his face against yours, breath hot against your cheek. His hands slide to your waist and to the button of your pants, flicking it open with practiced ease and lifting you up enough that he can shove your jeans down around your thighs.

“Been wanting to taste that sweet pussy for ages, baby,” Tig snarls against your throat and presses sharp nips against your flesh, leaving behind little red marks that would most likely fade into bruises. He pulls back just long enough to tug your boots off and rip your jeans from your legs, tossing them to the floor without a care. He drops to his knees, spreading your thighs and burying his face in the apex of your legs.

Your cunt tastes just as delicious as Tig imagined it would, musky and hot from the ride and dripping with arousal. He slurps between your folds, catching your clit between his lips and sucking hard enough that you bow forward, brow furrowed and hands clenching painfully in his hair. Tig groans and pushes himself deeper, tongue digging deep and cream coating the lower half of his face.

You hiss through clenched teeth, whines spilling from your throat. Tig is good at eating puss, you'd know that already from walking into the club house after a wild party and finding him face deep into a club girl's cunt. It had never bothered you before, but after this? Tig was yours.

“Tig, Tiggy,” you groan, and he answers you with a loud moan of his own, lost in his own world and bringing you closer and closer to that lovely edge. Your thighs quake, eyes glassy as you twitch under him.

Tig grins against your cunt when you come, creamy slick pouring from your pussy to drench his face. He sucks down and devours every bit, tongue scooping like a fucking dog. He leans back once he is satisfied, a fucked out and drunk look on his face as he meets your wide eyes.

You look back up, meeting those fiery blue eyes with a wicked smirk, “Gonna fuck me or not, Tiggy?”

“Best fucking pussy I've ever had, sweetheart,” he murmurs and pushes himself back up to his feet, hands dropping to his belt and tugging it free. You watch his cock spring free from his boxers, and excitement shoots up your spine. Tig was big.

Tig laughs, low and mean, and shoves between your legs, one hand gripping your hip and the other holding his cock steady. He keeps eye contact, wanting to watch you break as he bullies his cock into you. Your expressions are almost enough to make him come, your pussy is tight as a vice, sucking him down and making him grit his teeth.

“Feel fucking amazing, baby,” Tig murmurs and cups your face with a surprising softness when he is fully seated inside of you. Your cunt burns in the most delightful way, the stretch of his cock exactly what you need. He leans down, pressing his lips against your own as he begins to rock back and forth, slipping that much deeper into your pussy.

You kiss him back, losing yourself in the feel of Tig. The man, his scent, his touch, surrounds you, and you feel drunk off his presence alone. You want to take your time, to feel the way his cock drags along your walls, the head pressing deeper than anyone has ever been. But you know that time is of the essence. It wouldn't be long before the law would show up from the gunshots.

“Fuck me fast, baby. Come inside me, yeah?”

Tig hisses a curse, brows furrowing as he nods and presses close, hips pistoning in and out, balls slapping against your dripping cunt, and fluid mixing in a hot mess between your bodies. He focuses on the feel of how tight and hot you are, hands dropping to grip your hips and pound into you like a freight train.

You whine at the feel of hot cum pouring into you, cunt fluttering and clenching tight around the thick cock buried deep inside of you. You pant against his shoulder, taking in deep, shuddering breaths and raising a hand to push your sweaty bangs away from your brow. Tig slumps against you, wanting to stay exactly where he is for the rest of his life.

As much as you’d like to bask, the need to get out of the safe house and back down the road is pressing. You lift your head, a soft smirk on your lips, and you tilt your head to the side, meeting Tig's eyes.

“Round two when we get back?”

#soa x reader #soa #sons of anarchy x reader #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy imagine #tig trager x reader #tig trager #one shot #cross posted on ao3

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