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charmingsoa · 11 days
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✶ Where the Wild Things Are: Two ✶ ■ 1960s Sons of Anarchy story ■
⌃ Jax Teller/ OC x Thomas Teller/OC ⌃
Warning: Please read with caution. This story will include: drug use, physical, verbal, and sexual abuse. miscarriages, sexual content, alcohol use, homicide, cursing, etc. ★ If You would like to be tagged in future updates, simply leave your username in the comments.
Taglist: @oskea93, @keyweegirlie @ravennaortiz
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As the California sun beat down on me, the wind whipping through my hair as I rode on the back of the motorcycle, I couldn't help but reflect on the narrow-minded beliefs my parents had instilled in me and my brothers. Growing up in a conservative household where conformity and judgment were the norm, I had always been taught to view anyone who rode motorcycles as nothing but trash – individuals destined for the depths of hell.
My parents, staunch believers in their own sect of holy rollers, held strong prejudices against those who lived differently or held alternative beliefs. They saw the world in black and white, with no room for shades of gray or understanding. But as I clung to the back of the driver, feeling the freedom of the open road beneath me, I realized how misguided their teachings had been.
The rider in front of me, a stranger whose name I learned was Tig, exuded a sense of liberation and rebellion that I had never experienced before. The rumble of the engine beneath us seemed to drown out the judgmental voices of my past, and for the first time, I felt truly alive.
When the group first pulled up in front of me, I didn’t know whether to take their offer or run for the distant hills. Growing up, the horror stories of gangs kidnapping young girls and doing the unthinkable were ingrained in my psyche as my mother preached of their dangers. She would spew words of hatred and fear whenever the topic arose, warning me to steer clear of any suspicious-looking individuals or groups that might pose a threat.
As I stood there, frozen in indecision, the leader of the group stepped forward with a smile that seemed almost too friendly for someone in his position. His eyes held a glint of mischief, but there was something else there too – a hint of vulnerability that I couldn’t quite place.
"Hey there, don’t be afraid," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "We’re just a group of travelers looking for some company on the road. We mean you no harm."
I hesitated, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Should I trust this stranger and accept his offer of companionship, or should I heed the warnings of my mother and make a run for it? The decision weighed heavily on my shoulders, the consequences of each choice playing out vividly in my mind.
In the end, curiosity got the best of me, and I found myself nodding hesitantly, agreeing to join the group on their journey. As I climbed onto the back of his bike and we set off down the road together, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was embarking on an adventure that would change my life forever.
As we finally started to slow down upon entering a small town called Charming, I couldn't help but notice the reactions of the locals as the bikes rumbled past. Pedestrians on the sidewalk stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening with surprise and disapproval as they watched the group pass by. Disapproving looks were etched on their faces, and I could almost feel the judgment radiating towards them.
The quaint shops and cafes that lined the main street seemed to quiet down as we rode through, the sound of the engines cutting through the peaceful ambiance of the town. I could see the whispers and sideways glances exchanged among the townspeople, their curiosity mixed with a hint of fear or disdain.
The men didn’t seem to mind the disapproving looks from the townspeople – smirks on some of their faces as they revved their engines a little more as they passed by. The sound of the engines roared through the quiet streets, echoing off the old brick buildings that lined the road.
As they pulled into a side entrance of a garage, I knew this was officially the end of the line for them. I watched as they parked side-by-side, each backing their bikes into their assigned spaces. The engines sputtered to a halt, the sound gradually fading into the background as the men dismounted and stretched their legs.
I quickly gathered my things, removing myself from the bike, my legs feeling equivalent to jelly as they gathered the strength to hold up my weight. The adrenaline that had fueled me through the ride was now dissipating, leaving behind a feeling of exhaustion and exhilaration.
I leaned against a nearby lamppost, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The men exchanged nods and grins as they gathered in a loose circle, their leather jackets creaking slightly as they moved.
One of them, a tall man with a patchwork of tattoos covering his arms, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered them around. The faint smell of smoke mingled with the lingering scent of gasoline, creating a heady mix that hung in the air.
As they lit up and took long drags, their faces relaxed into expressions of contentment. The tension that had hung over them during the ride seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose.
The door to the business slowly opened, an older woman stepped onto the concrete below. Her presence commanded attention, exuding a sense of authority and confidence that made it clear she was not to be underestimated. The leather pants she wore hugged her figure, accentuating her strong and graceful movements as she made her way towards the men.
Her blonde highlights caught the sunlight, creating a halo of shimmering gold around her head. Despite the warmth of the day, there was a coolness in her gaze that hinted at a steely resolve beneath the polished exterior. I observed from a respectful distance as Gemma interacted with the men, her gestures filled with warmth and affection that spoke of deep bonds and shared history. She moved among them with ease, exchanging hugs and kisses that spoke of a familial closeness that went beyond mere camaraderie.
A tall man approached her from behind, his presence exuding a sense of quiet strength and authority. He wrapped his strong arms around her small waist, drawing her close in a gesture that was both protective and intimate. The woman’s laughter rang out, a clear and joyful sound that seemed to light up the space around them.
Their lips met in a brief but tender kiss, a display of affection that was unapologetically open and genuine. There was a sense of ease and comfort between them, a connection that ran deep and unspoken, forged through years of shared experiences and challenges.
My eyes moved away from the couple as the door reopened, this time revealing a blonde man. He looked to be in his early 20s – shoulder length hair resting against his work shirt. I don’t know how I looked to those around, but it was almost like how a cartoon character’s draw drops to the floor – he was gorgeous. I watched as he stepped off the stoop, sauntering over to the circle of men, clapping them on the back as he welcomed their return.
I was so caught up in the enigmatic presence of the blonde man that I failed to notice another individual had quietly slipped into the corner with us – the older woman with a knowing smile playing on her lips. Her voice, smooth and seasoned, cut through the hazy atmosphere around us.
"You lost, kitten?" she inquired, her tone a curious blend of amusement and concern. Her eyes, framed by fine lines that whispered of wisdom and experience, held a glint of something indefinable, as though she saw more than just the surface of things.
Startled by her sudden appearance and the unexpected nickname, I turned to face her, momentarily at a loss for words. The air between us crackled with a kind of unspoken understanding, as if she could see right through the facade I presented to the world.
“Sorry-“ I stammered. “I – uh-“
A smile spread across her face as she placed her hand on my arm, her touch warm and comforting. "You must be the little one the guys picked up on their way home. Tig told me all about you when he called a little while ago."
Memories of when we stopped at the gas station hours before came flooding back – the smell of gasoline, the flickering lights, and the sound of chatter from the other customers. I remembered my eyes connecting with Tig’s as he spoke animatedly in the glass box, his voice carrying a sense of urgency and excitement.
"What’s your name, sweetheart?" the woman asked, her eyes kind and curious.
Tucking a loose red strand of hair behind my ear, I replied, "Catherine. Catherine Landry." My voice was low, almost a whisper, as if unsure of my own presence in this moment.
The woman's smile widened, a glint of recognition flashing in her eyes. "Catherine Landry," she repeated softly, as if savoring the sound of the name. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Catherine. I'm Gemma."
As I started to speak, the sound of gravel crunching beneath heavy steps caught my attention, drawing my gaze away from Gemma. I turned, my eyes following the path of the approaching figure with blonde hair that glinted in the bright sunshine.
He walked with purpose, his strides confident and measured, his presence commanding attention. The gravel shifted under his weight, creating a rhythmic pattern that seemed to echo the beating of my heart.
As he drew closer, I noticed the intensity in his gaze, the way his eyes seemed to search and assess, taking in every detail of the scene before him. There was a certain magnetism about him, a silent strength that seemed to radiate from his very being.
Gemma's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of recognition crossing her features as she greeted him with a nod. "Hey baby," she said, her voice warm and welcoming.
As the two embraced one another, I stood there, a silent observer to the intimate moment unfolding before me. The man's eyes remained fixed on me, a hint of curiosity and something else I couldn't quite decipher lingering in their depths.
Gemma's arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her embrace filled with a sense of familiarity and comfort. There was a closeness between them, a bond that seemed to transcend words and time.
I watched as they held each other, their connection palpable in the air around them. It was as if they shared a history, a story that only they knew, leaving me on the outside looking in, a stranger to their world.
As they finally pulled away, a silent understanding passing between them, the man turned his gaze back to me. There was a question in his eyes, a silent inquiry that hung in the air, waiting to be answered.
As Gemma turned her attention back to me, her warm smile lighting up her face, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within me. "Catherine," she began, her voice filled with a sense of familiarity and fondness, "This is my son, Jackson."
Jackson. The name echoed in my mind, stirring something deep within me. I looked up to meet his gaze, finding a pair of eyes that held a hint of curiosity and a touch of amusement.
Gemma's introduction caught me off guard, her words painting a picture of me as a lost soul in need of rescue. "She's the little thing that Tig and the guys picked up along the way," she explained, her tone lighthearted but tinged with a hint of motherly concern.
I couldn't help but inwardly roll my eyes at her explanation, feeling a twinge of annoyance at being likened to a stray puppy. It was true that I had found myself in an unexpected situation, but I was no damsel in distress in need of saving.
As I exchanged greetings with Jackson, a sense of curiosity sparked within me. There was something about him, a quiet strength and a depth in his eyes that hinted at hidden layers beneath the surface.
Jackson smirked and his eyes roamed up my body, a wave of self-consciousness washed over me, causing a slight flush to rise to my cheeks. His gaze held a hint of mischief and confidence, leaving me momentarily flustered in his presence.
"It's nice to meet you too," I replied, trying to maintain a composed demeanor despite the flutter of nerves within me. There was something magnetic about Jackson, an undeniable charm that drew me in even as I felt the weight of his scrutiny.
Gemma's proud voice interrupted the moment, drawing my attention back to her as she spoke of her son. "Jax is the leader of the group," she said with a hint of pride. "Along with my other son, Thomas." The revelation that there were two brothers leading the group took me by surprise. “Club comes from a strong line of Teller men," Gemma continued, her tone filled with reverence and hope for the future. "Hoping to continue that tradition in the future." She affectionately patted Jackson's chest, her gesture a symbol of both maternal pride and a legacy to uphold.
Jackson rolled his eyes at his mother's suggestion, a hint of amusement danced in his gaze.
"Trust me," he stated, his deep voice carrying a sense of authority that cut through the air, "She's really the one in charge."
The bond between Jackson and Gemma was palpable from the very beginning. It was clear to anyone who observed them that they shared a special connection, a closeness that went beyond words. Jackson was the one closest to his mother, their relationship built on a foundation of trust, understanding, and unwavering loyalty.
In contrast, Thomas seemed to be as far removed from Gemma as possible. There was a distance between them, an unspoken divide that hinted at unresolved issues and unspoken tensions. While Jackson and Gemma thrived in each other's company, Thomas seemed to seek solace elsewhere, distancing himself from the intricate web of relationships that defined their family dynamic.
Jax and Gemma's bond ran deep, a complex tapestry of emotions that intertwined their fates in ways that were both captivating and destructive. They fed off each other's energy, their connection fueled by a sense of mutual need and dependency that bordered on obsession.
Thick as thieves one moment, brutal enemies the next, their relationship was a rollercoaster of emotions that played out like a high-stakes drama. Time slipped away, leaving behind a trail of unresolved conflicts and simmering tensions that threatened to erupt at any moment.
The heat that Gemma placed between her two sons was a double-edged sword, igniting a fire that fueled their passions and their conflicts in equal measure. Theirs was a relationship fraught with complexity, where love and loyalty mingled with jealousy and resentment, creating a volatile mix that kept them locked in a perpetual dance of push and pull.
Thomas felt the weight of his mother Gemma's favoritism like a heavy chain, binding him to a perpetual cycle of disappointment and resentment. From a young age, he watched as Gemma showered his older brother Jackson with praise and attention, leaving him in the shadows of Jax's achievements. Despite his best efforts to earn her approval, Gemma's preference for Jackson was unwavering, creating a toxic atmosphere of rivalry and animosity between the Teller brothers.
"So, from what I heard, you’re hitching to San Francisco?” Gemma spoke as she looked at me with curiosity. “What’s so important down there that you had to leave home for?” She pushed past her son, taking hold of my arm as she started walking up towards the building.
“From the looks of you-“She did a once over. “Looks to me like you’re running away from something – midwestern lifestyle, perhaps?” Gemma's keen observation caught me off guard, her words cutting through my carefully crafted facade. I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way I hadn't anticipated.
I cleared my throat nervously, feeling the weight of my confession hanging in the air. "My parents are very conservative – conservative and very religious," Her eyes closing in understanding, Gemma listened intently as I opened about my inner conflict. "They're lovely people – " I began to backpedal, feeling a need to qualify my earlier statement. "But the life I want to live doesn't match with how they want me to live. I want to be able to be free and do what I please, but they're all about the image and how the Lord wants us to live our lives."
"You ran away?" Gemma's voice was filled with concern and empathy, her eyes searching mine for answers.
I nodded slowly, the memories of that night flooding. "Left in the middle of the night after my father beat me with a switch," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. My eyes cast down to the ground, unable to meet Gemma's gaze as the shame and hurt of that moment washed over me once again. "He called me awful names, and my mother just sat there and watched."
Gemma's back straightened, a steely resolve entering her expression as she processed my words. "Doesn't sound to me like they're lovely people," she stated firmly, her voice tinged with indignation.
I shrugged my shoulders, “That’s just how they are – been like that my whole life.” I knew I shouldn’t be making excuses for them, but they were my parents. “I’m the only daughter – I was supposed to be the epitome of a perfect daughter.”
“What could be so bad that your daddy beats you?”
I watched as she pulled out a cigarette, gesturing for me to take one as well. She quickly lit the end of the stick, the smoke invading my lungs with ease. “I started messing around with boys at an early age – sex, drugs, dancing. Sex was my go-to though. They didn’t want their only daughter being known as the town whore, which I guess I became. I was supposed to save myself until I was married – only letting my wedded husband lay between my legs.”
Gemma chuckled, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Sounds a lot like my folks," she remarked, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and humor.
"I just needed to get away, and after seeing all those people on the nightly news coming out here and living life their own way and being free and peaceful –" I paused, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air. "I just need that in my life right now. A life where I can be free and do whatever I want to do. And if that means I have to do negative things to get to that place, then so be it."
As I spoke, I felt a mix of determination and uncertainty churning within me. The longing for freedom and self-expression had grown into a burning desire, fueled by the stories of those who had dared to defy conventions and carve out their own paths. The allure of a life unbound by limitations and expectations beckoned to me like a distant star, promising a sense of liberation and authenticity that had eluded me for so long.
“You know –“Gemma started. “The Frisco area isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” Her tone matter of fact. “I know it looks all peace and love on the tv screen but it’s really just a bunch of homeless hippies that are looking for attention and free handouts.”
I let out an annoyed sigh.
"Listen, little girl," her voice took on a more serious tone, the lines on her face softening with a mix of concern and affection. "You've accomplished the biggest goal you set for yourself – you made it all the way to California." She paused, letting the significance of the moment sink in before continuing.
A wide smile slowly spread across her face, reflecting pride and admiration. "By what you just told me, that was the ultimate goal. Now, I know going a little further south for the whole peace and love movement was the next quest, but I think for your sake it would be better for you to stay here."
“I don’t know anyone here, though.” I was grasping for excuses.
Her face twisted in a mix of concern and determination. "You weren't gonna know anyone down there either." She tossed her cigarette down, the ember extinguishing under the pressure of her heeled shoe. "You've managed to meet a whole crew of men that will now look after you if you choose to stay. You've met me and Jax – you'll get to meet Thomas when he decides to come home. You're no longer around strangers, baby doll. We can be your family – a family that'll treat you right."
Her voice softened, the edges of her tough exterior melting away to reveal a deep sense of care and protection. "We've seen the world through different lenses, faced our own battles, and carved out our own paths in this chaotic dance of life. But amidst all the chaos, we found each other – kindred spirits bound by shared experiences and unspoken connections."
The older woman's eyes held a glimmer of hope, a silent plea for understanding and acceptance. "You have a home here, among friends who will stand by you through thick and thin, who will lift you up when you stumble and celebrate your victories as their own. Take a chance on us, darling. Let us be the family you never knew you needed, but always longed for deep in your heart."
I would end up staying in that small fucking town for the next 25 years – my whole world coming to revolve around the Teller family and the Sons of Anarchy.
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charmingsoa · 28 days
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✶ Where the Wild Things Are: Two (Preview) ✶
I positioned my bags over my shoulders, standing awkwardly to the side, as he stepped off the steps of the establishment. His blonde hair was the first thing I noticed, long and tucked behind his ears. He wore a simple white shirt, his uniform top lying on top. His jeans were dirty but hung loosely on his hips. He was very attractive – a blush causing an explosion of color to adorn my cheeks. It got even worse when we made eye contact, his body coming closer to mine.
His name was Jackson Teller – Jax – for short.
I had learned that he was the newly elected president of their gang, the Sons of Anarchy. He was the youngest president elect – only 26 years old. He didn’t look a day over 20 to be honest. His skin was sun kissed, the grease from the cars adding an extra shine. Did I mention he was gorgeous?
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charmingsoa · 29 days
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✦ It Had to be You: One ✦
John "Bucky" Egan x OC Gale "Buck Cleven x OC
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and not associated with the real people mentioned from the show. This is simply based on the portrayals of the actors playing these characters. Warning for this chapter: Cursing, mentions of sex, depression, rage anger.
● If you would like to be tagged, just comment below ��
⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆⍆
Black had become a staple in my wardrobe.
I used to despise the dark color – opting for more cheerful tones or floral patterns. I didn’t want to walk around looking like a depressive cloud – someone in constant mourning. I didn’t even own a black dress until I got the news – my mother making the journey to the store to buy one. I couldn’t bear to leave the house – not wanting the sympathetic glances of those in town that had learned the news. I can’t even begin to tell you how many letters I had received, those that knew Gale and even from those that didn’t. Each letter praised his heroic actions – thanking him in black ink for his level of service and dedication to the United States. Even received one from President Truman and the men of Washington D.C.
I used to look at women who had received the devastating news with such sorrow and sadness. Wonder how they would survive without their men - their source of comfort and love. I was certain that it would be very difficult to do so – have to learn to fend for yourself and go on without the man you loved. I didn’t realize that I would be in the same boat years later. I was a simple housewife – barely of age when we married. Gale and I were just two kids – two kids that were madly and deeply in love with each other. I had grown up more privileged than Gale or those that we knew. I didn’t know how to clean a house properly or cook a hearty meal that would fill the bellies of my husband and future children. I’ve always had someone do those things for me – my mother more focused on raising a proper lady. If you needed to know which fork went where, I was the girl to ask, but I couldn’t tell you anything domestic. I wanted to be able to learn all those things while he was away – making sure that when he returned home for good, I would be able to care for him like a wife should.
I had met Gale at a dance the local hall was putting on – a sendoff to some of the troops that lived in the area. He had just enlisted– saying that he was a week away from going to boot camp. He was cool as a cucumber – no evidence of fear etched on his beautiful face. He spoke of wanting to fight the good fight – getting up in the air and showing Germany the trouble they were in for. He was a born fighter – a genius when it came to life. We spent most of the night as close as two people could be while sitting upright- both speaking of our life and our dreams. Not to sound cliché but I was smitten as soon as I saw him. His blonde hair was slightly disheveled – his wool trousers fitting his frame nicely. His smile could light up a room – that deep voice causing my insides to quiver with a need that only he could give me.
I longed for him during those weeks he was away – smiling as I read his letters that would come bi-weekly. I could hear his voice as I read the words on paper – the excitement of finally flying and the annoyance he felt towards his roommate. The one true constant that popped up on each letter was the mention of his co-captain. His name was John Egan – Bucky – the nickname he had been given. Gale spoke highly of the man – praising him and saying that he couldn’t wait for us to meet. Gale was soft spoken – a bit reserved – he wasn’t into sports or gambling. He liked to sit outside the house and just listen to the sounds of nature. John Egan was the opposite that Gale needed in his life. He helped Gale open up and Gale helped John stay out of trouble...
Gale finally returned to me after weeks away – our reunion being one spent giving ourselves to one another. We were both virgins but the time away from one another ignited a feeling in both of us that we couldn’t suppress. He asked me to marry him a month after his return – wanting to get married sooner rather than later seeing as the war was ramping up. John Egan stood by Gale’s side as we exchanged vowels – his blue eyes shining bright as he watched us become husband and wife. He was the life of the party at our reception – singing along with the band as those around us danced to the music. I could see why Gale adored him so, but I was still weary.
That feeling came to a head when John convinced Gale that it was time for him to head over to England and join the ranks. He wrote to him about the fun he was having and all the missions they were accomplishing. He made it sound like a thrill ride – something that didn’t involve the chance of dying at any moment. Gale and I spent our last night together – wrapped up in each other – exploring and branding kisses into skin – almost as if we were creating a permanent road map to remember one another. It was the most sensual night we’ve had – that we would ever have.
The movie reel played on repeat in my head as I could still feel his lips on mine as he kissed me goodbye. Tears in both of our eyes as the sound of the car’s engine faded into the distance.
“I’m coming back to you – hell or high water – I will be back.”
He kept waving until his car was out of sight – my knees buckling – my body falling into grass below. A part of my heart left that Spring Day…  
I received his first official letter a couple weeks later – screaming out in joy as I read his chicken scratch penmanship. He spoke of the area they were located – how it felt flying in – the fresh air that surrounded the base. He gushed about the new friends he had made –describing them as if he had known them for years. The most important was how much he missed and loved me – repeating the same words as above – hell or high water.
No letter from Gale would be complete without a mention of John Egan. Gale wrote of how John had taken him under his wing, but also being John’s protector. He wrote of how he’s stopped him from getting into several scuffles with the British soldiers or the townspeople. His writings detailing how much they truly cared for one another – they were like brothers.
As time progressed, his writings became darker – tragic even. He detailed his first mission in graphic detail – expressing his feelings and the slight betrayal that he felt towards Egan. He watched men he had befriended either die in the air in a fiery explosion or pass as they laid on the stretcher in the makeshift hospital on the base. He never wrote of his fear that I’m sure he had – choosing to stay strong and do everything he could for his squadron. He was the main pilot – he had the lives of nine other men to think about – he wanted them to be able to return home safely even if that meant he was the sacrificial lamb...
The last letter that would arrive on time came through the mail on October 10th, 1943. It was shorter than normal, Gale explaining that he was moments away from an important mission. He must’ve written “I love you” about a dozen times before signing off – xo following his name. I had learned about a week later that his plane had went down somewhere outside of Germany. The news articles praised their efforts – telling of how they put a damper into the German’s artillery. That was all well and good, but my husband was missing – the base having no record of his whereabouts or if he was still alive.
Months passed before a battered letter was placed inside the mail slot. The enveloped looked as if it had gone through hell, but Gale’s handwriting could be seen through the grime. He had been placed in a camp for captured soldiers. Many of the men that he had met at the base were there as well. He hadn’t been injured – keeping quiet and under the radar of the German soldiers. I fell to the floor after reading that letter – my heart shattering at the thoughts of what might happen. Tears fell on the paper as I replied – simply begging him to come back to me…
“Sweetheart?” I looked up from the mattress as my mother entered the room. “It’s nearing one in the afternoon, darling.” She threw open the curtains – the bright sunlight beaming into the once darkened room. “You need to get yourself together and get dressed.”
My mother had never seen me in such a state – not even recognizing the person I had become. Long gone was the smile and laughter – replaced by tears and screams of anger. I was angry at everyone – my parents, my friends, God.
Oh, I was especially mad at God.
Countless times I would ask why Gale – why was it his turn to be taken? Was he needed for greater things? Why wasn’t I granted more time with him? Just why?
Growing up in the church, it was frowned upon to ask why for anything, more so for why God chose those that he did.  You never asked why – you just learned to accept the outcome. I was long past that – I wanted an answer – I demanded a Goddamn answer.
Sighing, I slowly moved to a sitting position as she laid the black dress and heels next to me. My eyes boring holes into the clothing – hoping that with another energy they would magically combust into flames, burning me alive with them. “I’ll do your hair when you get out of the bath.”
Our eyes connected, “I’m not taking a bath.”
Mother let out an exhausted sigh as her heels clicked on the hardwood floor. I watched as she walked to the window, her upper body jerking slightly as she wiped away the tears that started to fall. She never liked anyone to see her cry.
I started to speak, stopping before the first syllable could come out. I wanted to tell her not to cry but I didn’t have that right. She loved Gale too – she had been smitten by him from the get-go. We all held out hope that he would return to us – just not in a flag draped pine box.
A soft knock on the bedroom door caught both of our attention as my dad entered the room. His once bright face was downcast as he took in my appearance. “The car will be here soon, darling.” His voice soft as he exchanged glances with my mother.
The reality that I was an hour away from burying my only love hadn’t set in yet – just fog – fog that felt like it would never lift to clear skies. I fisted the black material, stepping over the kitten heels as I trudged towards the bathroom. The figure in the mirror was a stranger – someone who’s been through more things than a human is supposed to. Dark circles and pale skin stared back at me – my hair in a tangled mess – not even a comb could get through at this point. Gaunt would be the best word to describe this version of Carolina. I hadn’t bathed in several days – to numb to even remove myself from the bed at times. I barely made it to the bathroom to relieve myself, almost just wanting to go on myself so I wouldn’t have to get up.
Looking around, I noticed everything laid out by my mother. Toothbrush, toothpaste, the expensive makeup that I had collected over the years sitting on the vanity. I was supposed to look put together – still grieving – but have the attributes of a Hollywood starlet.
A guttural scream roared through my body as the vanity contents crashed to the floor – the glass bottles of perfume shattering as the liquid splashed in the air. I could feel the glass stabbing into my bare feet, the blood mixing with the perfume on the floor. I didn’t even register that my father had burst into the room until his arm wrapped around my waist, my back hitting his tailored chest. I thrashed against his hold like a wild animal trapped in a cage.
“Carolina, please!” My mother bawled as she took in my state. “Please, darling calm down before you hurt yourself!”
Another voice was added to the chaos – a deeper voice than that of my father. He was dressed in a black suit – his tall figure looming over my parents. His hands replaced my father’s – his grip on my waist tight and firm. “Calm down, Lina.” His hot breath hitting my ear as the world started to spin around me. My body was running on fumes – the last of those turning into smoke as my brain finally had enough, shutting down before any more damage could be done.
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charmingsoa · 2 months
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✶ Where the Wild Things Are: One ✶ ■ 1960s Sons of Anarchy story ■
⌃ Jax Teller/ OC x Thomas Teller/OC ⌃
Warning: Please read with caution. This story will include: drug use, physical, verbal, and sexual abuse. miscarriages, sexual content, alcohol use, homicide, cursing, etc. ★ If You would like to be tagged in future updates, simply leave your username in the comments.
Taglist: @oskea93, @keyweegirlie
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I stared at the clock – the hands slowly moving as my packed suitcase sat below my bed.
The thought of leaving the ruling and hard hand of my father had been a pipedream of mine for a while. There were days when I convinced myself that today was the day. I was just gonna walk right out of the house – bidding my parents a big fuck you as I ventured into the new world. I always managed to talk myself out of it after an hour – too afraid of what my father would do to stop me. Before tonight, I never even had a bag packed or a plan for that matter.
“I had to hear from Fred Hastings that he saw you and Wilson Grady fornicating in the back alley of his hardware store. Do you know how embarrassed your mother and I are to have people know that our daughter – our only daughter – is nothing but a cheap whore?”
I winced as he roughly grabbed onto my arms, shaking my upper body in rage as my mother just sat back and watched. The belt that he had used so often was wrapped around his hand, the buckle dangling as he shook.
“You are nothing but a piece of trash – a cheap whore that will open her legs to any man on the streets.” I sniffed back tears, my red hair sticking to my face as it became wet. He roughly pushed me to the ground, standing over me with a look of disgust etched on his aging face.
I attempted to get up, only to be stopped by his heavy foot on my abdomen. “Don’t even think about getting up, whore.” I glanced over at my mother hoping that she would make him throw in the towel. Her dead eyes met mine, looking away quickly as father’s heavy hand made contact with my thigh.
The leather material of the belt hurt like hell, but he had moved past using that. His favorite – at least for me – was the buckle. I can’t begin to tell you how many scars I have on my upper thighs and bottom from the contact of the metal meeting my thin skin.
Blow after blow – derogatory words spewing from his mouth like venom with each strike. My older brother, Brian was finally the one to step in – telling our father that I’ve had enough. Brian didn’t bother helping me up or making sure I was okay, too afraid of father himself.
Out of breath, father’s eyes connected with mine. “You think this time was bad-“His face mere inches from mine. “If I even hear that you’ve looked at another boy – I will make sure you won’t see the light of day ever again.”
I must’ve laid there for 30 minutes before slowly walking back to my bedroom. The sun had set by this time – meaning that it was almost bedtime for Roy and Brenda. Father made it a rule that it was lights out at sunset – the mind and body needed at least 7-8 hours of rest. Plus, his famous words were that nothing good happens after sunset.
Without giving it a second thought, I just started to pack.
I kept the lights off, giving off the appearance that I was sleeping in bed. I just grabbed whatever I had, stuffing it into the large suitcase. I knew that I would have to leave most of my possessions – items that I had collected since childhood. My father would more than likely just throw everything in the fire since he’s already said it was all a waste of money…
The big hand hovered over the 12 as I quietly gathered the case. I held my shoes in my hands as I took one last look at my childhood room. The pink walls dulling with age – the room holding good and bad memories. Tears welled in my eyes as I walked away, tiptoeing past my parents’ bedroom door. The house was silent – the only noise coming from the clocks on the walls. For once, the steps that led downstairs didn’t creak – the energy of the house agreeing with my decision to leave for good.
Once I reached the outside air – the realization of my actions crashed down on me like a ton of bricks. There was no way I could spend another minute/hour in that house – under the rule of a father who only cared about himself. If I didn’t leave now, I would’ve found a way of leaving this world all together. I wasn’t gonna give him that satisfaction though – Roy Landry deserved to know that I was somewhere in the world living a life that he frowned upon. I wanted word to get back to him that I was running wild – enjoying life – and screwing anyone and everyone that I damn well pleased. He can take the shame and embarrassment that he said I caused the family and shove it up his uptight ass!
That would be the last time I would see my parents alive. Word came that my father died a few years after I left – a heart attack, I think. To this day, my brothers blame me for the decline of our father’s health – saying that the stress of me leaving put a strain on his heart. My mother couldn’t bear to live without my father – passing away five years later in her sleep. I remember trying to call her one day after finding out I was pregnant – a part of me thinking that she had the right to know. Before I could even ask how she was doing, she interrupted and told me to never call her again.
“Thanks for the ride.”
I exited the car, the rain relentless as it soaked through my clothes. I managed to hitch a ride from an older couple – probably feeling sorry for me as I stood on the side of the road. I had been thumbing for a ride for two days now – making it further than I thought I would. I was far enough from home that I didn’t worry about my father or brothers coming to look for me.
I looked across the road – a diner casting a glow through the weather. I hadn’t bathed in three days – the rain and humidity making my skin feel sticky and gross. I had a couple bucks from a man that picked me up yesterday – money in exchange for a quick blow job. He was your typical sleaze ball but he got me out of Arkansas so I couldn’t complain. When I left home, I didn’t have any money saved up. Roy and Brenda weren’t the type of parents to give cash for chores. I hadn’t eaten since dinner that evening, my stomach cramping from the hunger pains.
 I darted across the road, stepping into the muggy building. The older men at the counter watched as I made my way to the restroom – the sink my only option for getting cleaned up. I quickly washed what I could – getting the important bits and pits – pulling off my dirty clothes and replacing them with shorts and a halter top. I pulled my red hair into a ponytail – combing out the knots that had formed from the rain. Once satisfied with my work, I stepped back into the restaurant, taking a seat in an empty booth. I ordered a cheeseburger and fries – basically scarfing it down in record time. I left what was left of my change for the elderly waitress before stepping back out into the summer rain.
I managed to flag down a semi-trailer driver who was headed to Utah with a shipment of goods. He called himself Groovy Bill – a widower from Florida. He had also fought in the war, stationed in France for two years before he was medically discharged. He walked with a limp – the injury coming from a stray bullet that shattered his femur. Groovy Bill didn’t expect anything for the ride – simply enjoying the company. During our three days together, he told me about his wife, Jane and how he met her at the American Legion before he was deployed. They got married once he returned home and started their family. Jane was developed pneumonia after routine surgery and passed away shortly after. I could tell that Bill truly loved and cared about his wife – her picture kept close to his heart.
I was kind of sad when his rig pulled into the office’s parking lot. I waited until he was completely unloaded, wanting to thank him one last time for his generosity and kindness. He didn’t have to pick me up – Hell, he didn’t have to be the kind man that I knew he could only be. In the three days that were together, I felt more of a connection to this man than I did my own father. Bill had a heart of gold and only wanted what was best for his children and people in general.
“Well –“ A sad smile spreading across his bearded face. “ I guess this is the end of the line, chickadee.”
Tears clouded my vision as my arms wrapped tightly around his midsection. The smell of bruit filled my senses as he returned the gesture.
“You take care of yourself, you hear?” I nodded my head against his plaid shirt.
We stood there silently, still embracing, before he pulled away. His tired eyes looked into mine as a fathers would. “Just because the lights are bright, and everything seems perfect- “He paused. “Doesn’t mean that there’s a rainbow at the end.” Referring to my quest to reach California. “You’re a beautiful girl and people will take advantage of that, but it’s up to you to push past the bullshit and become the woman you were born to be.”
With a kiss on top of my greasy head, Groovy Bill climbed back into his truck, driving back into the foggy, morning mist…
I would like to say the rest of my trip to reach California was a breeze, but it was more of a hurricane. Instead of an easy ride like the one I had with Bill, I was forced to give sexual favors in exchange for rides. The men that had picked me up seemed nice at first but the question of what they got in return was brought up halfway through. A blow job here – sex in the backseat there. I felt like a used rag by the time the last guy crossed the California border. He dropped me off outside a gas station once he got what he wanted, dust spinning as he tore back onto the road. It was early morning – probably close to three in the morning – and there wasn’t a soul in sight. This wasn’t our agreement – he was supposed to take me to San Francisco – telling me that’s where he was headed.
I stood under the flickering streetlamp – my heart pounding as different sounds could be heard in the distance. Mostly animals but your fear heightens when it’s pitch-black outside. I didn’t know whether to just wait it out and see if I could hitch another ride when the station opens or start walking now. It was likely impossible that someone would be on the roads this late – especially in an area such as this.
“Fuck.” I blew out a sigh, picking up my suitcase.
My sandals had broken several states back – my feet raw from working the pavement and rocky surface. I couldn’t see a foot in front of me, but I didn’t feel comfortable waiting until daylight. As I walked, the thought of if this was worth it kept popping into my mind. The people on the evening news made this look easy – full of peace and love. Granted, there was a group hitchhiking together, but even then, it wouldn’t be a walk in the park. Besides Groovy Bill and the older couple who picked me up at the start of all of this, I witnessed the hold that a man could have on a woman in need. They were willing to help if they got a kickback in the end. Sex was the only thing I could offer, and I wasn’t proud of that. They got off and I got dropped off.
I lasted another 30 minutes before collapsing in a field adjacent to the highway. I couldn’t go on any further – my legs quivering underneath me. A content sigh slipped past my lips as the cool grass cushioned my aching body. Sleep had been a distant friend since my journey started – my body staying awake to stay vigilant. I was desperate for rest – even if that meant sleeping on the side of the road. My mind finally took over – my eyes fluttering shut as my body relaxed.
This wouldn’t be the last time I pass out on the side of the road.
The sky was still dark when the rumbling of engines startled me awake. I moved to a sitting position as the group of headlights drew closer – my heart beating wildly in my chest at the unknown. A part of me hoped that the dusky scene would keep me hidden – but the other hoped that they would sweep me away from the misery I had created.
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charmingsoa · 2 months
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✶ Where the Wild Things Are: Prequel ✶ ■ 1960s Sons of Anarchy story ■
⌃ Jax Teller/ OC x Thomas Teller/OC ⌃
Warning: Please read with caution. This story will include: drug use, physical, verbal, and sexual abuse. miscarriages, sexual content, alcohol use, homicide, cursing, etc. ★ If You would like to be tagged in future updates, simply leave your username in the comments.
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When I look back on my life – I often wonder if I made the right choices when I was younger. I obviously got to my place in life because of what happened all those years ago in California. Hell, there were times when I didn’t even think I would make it out alive. Growing up, my parents were very strict – almost authoritarian. My father had fought for his country in WWII and my mother was your typical housewife. The picture-perfect look was what they strived for – putting my brothers and I in whatever activities they could. There were structured rules that were drilled into our heads from day one.
No elbows on the table Respect your parents and your elders Girls and woman are to bow down to menfolk and do what they’re told. Women are forbidden to wear pants or short skirts. Girls can attend secondary school but will not be allowed to attend college. Marriage, motherhood, and the act of obeying your husband is the most important role in a woman’s life.
I distinctly remember my father telling me that if I wanted to dress like a whore, I can plant myself on the side of the highway and start making a living for myself. I spent most of my childhood bowing down to everything my father said. He instilled that fear in me as a young girl – always being on the back end of his belt or switch if I was “bad” enough. I was the only daughter – I needed to be picture perfect and like a doll. My mother would stand idly by as he inflicted his abuse on me – only doing so because he loved and cared about me.
Total bullshit if you ask me.
I guess you can say with all the structure and ruling that fell at the hand of my father – you wouldn’t be surprised to hear that I rebelled. Starting at the early age of 13, I snuck out of the house to meet the boys from the wrong sides of the tracks. We would listen to the devil’s music as my father called it – getting high as kites.  My flower-patterned dress would be hiked up above my waist – my legs wrapped tightly around the guy’s hips – as they pounded into me. My mother always preached that a girl should stay pure until the night of their wedding -giving the gift of virginity to their awaiting husband.
 I lost that gift behind the First Methodist Church to a kid three grades ahead of me. It was meaningless and hurt like hell, but after that I couldn’t get enough.
By the time I hit 16, I had fucked half the senior class. I gained a reputation as the 10th grade slut – willing to do anything and anyone. Now, was this true – partially. I didn’t care if you were the ugliest guy in class – if you had a dick then I was ready and willing. I was never one to seek the guys out first. They would come to me and a couple minutes later they would be making me cum. There were rumors that I was a child prostitute – my parents were less than thrilled to hear that be brought up during a meeting with the principal.
At that point, I was pulled out of the school and sent to an all-girls catholic school about 45 minutes from home. My father made sure to drive me every day and would stay on the premises until school was over. Even if I wanted to ditch class and run away, Roy Landry was watching like a fucking hawk. I managed to mellow out a little once I graduated high school – I guess being locked up like Rapunzel will do that to people. I wasn’t allowed to go to prom – parties thrown by the other girls - I was isolated in my room. While my brothers were living their lives, I was stuck watching Walter Cronkite on the CBS Evening News with Brenda and Roy ever night.
I’m sure you’re trying to figure out where I’m going with all this information – I swear it’s important given the truth you’re about to hear.
A girl who hitchhiked all the way to California- fell in love with two brothers who despised each other – watching as they both fell into the pits of hell by creating the most dangerous motorcycle gang in Northern Cali – my story has to start somewhere, right?
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charmingsoa · 2 months
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Hello! So, i've been toying with this idea for a while and I think I kind of know where i'm gonna go with it. Where the Wild Things Are will be an SOA beginning story if you will. Instead of being the son of the first nine, Jax will now be one of the founding members along with his brother, Thomas (Austin Butler). I got the idea after watching the second trailer of The Bikeriders and to say i'm excited would be an understatement. This story will be very raw, emotional, chaotic, and hard to read at times due to situations. Most of the main characters on Sons will be included as well. I can't wait to begin writing this tragic tale for you all!
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charmingsoa · 1 year
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■ Gunslinger ■                 Ch. 6 ✶ Jax Teller/OC multi-chapter story ✶
🀰 Taglist available🀰
(TW: Mentions of rape, physical abuse, cursing)
@cindsvibes @sweet--catrastrophe  @stephv213  @itspdameronthings @neverland14353  @sweetdispositionsss @fandom-oneshots-etc @xtwistedxwonderlandx​ 
His dirty fingers lingered on my skin as I laid beneath him – tears falling from my lined eyes as his cigarette breath fell onto my neck. I knew she was in the room too – probably standing in the corner as he had his way with me. This had become a nightly ritual between the two of them. She was either too drunk or high for him to get enjoyment – barging through my door instead as she watched with dead eyes. The following morning, I would have to come up with many lies as to why my face was busted or why I was absent from school for such a long period. I had learned to ease the pain with the random drugs I would find as my mother slept. A line or two – a pill or four – just enough to numb the pain as his sweaty body laid on top of mine.
I spent the rest of the night in the broken-down truck that sat in the yard. I didn’t want to be in that house – be near the two of them. I didn’t even bother crying anymore as I washed his stench off my battered body. It was a regular occurrence at this point. I slowly made the walk to school – the clothes that I’ve worn for the past week hanging off my body like dirty rags. I knew the other students and teachers looked at me with pity – some whispering as I would walk by. I was just another kid from the wrong side of the tracks – a welfare case that should have either been aborted or placed up for adoption. I was a pawn to my mother – a warm body for her boyfriends – a guaranteed check from the government.
“Carter?” I looked up as the principle made her way towards me. I already knew how the conversation would go.
What happened to you this time? I’m gonna have to report this if it keeps happening? Is your mother aware of this?
“What happened to your face, Carter?” Her voice stern.
I had learned to lie at a very early age thanks to my mother. “Just an accident is all, Ms. Lions.” I smiled. “I was helping my mom with some home renovations and a couple things fell off the shelf while I was under it. Total stupidity on my part.”
I knew she didn’t believe me – “This is the fourth time something has fallen on your face in the past year, Carter.”
“Just clumsy and accident prone, I guess.” I replied.
She stayed silent as I walked away – a part of me wishing that she would finally call…
“Stupid bitch!”
I whimpered as her nails dug into my skin – no doubt causing blood to pool to the surface. “Had to open your fucking mouth to those nosey fucking teachers and tell them lies.” I glanced to the side, Butch, the fuck of the week, leaning against the trailer door. His eyes glazed over as he tipped back the beer bottle.
“I didn’t say anything!” I cried out. “I promise!”
“Lying fucking bitch.” She growled. “All you do is lie and try to steal what’s mine!”
I managed to get the courage to push her off of me – her body landing on the dirty carpet below. She looked around shocked – Butch just hanging in the shadows. Before she could jump up, I sprinted to my room, locking the door behind me. The sound of more bottles falling to the ground could be heard – glass littering the living room and kitchen as she raged. I had nowhere to go but I wasn’t staying here any longer. I packed up what I could fit in my duffle and backpack – climbing out the broken window to escape. She had put her hands on me before – practically choking me out enough to make me almost lose consciousness at times. This was the last straw though. I didn’t want to stay in a place where I needed to fear for my life. If I didn’t leave tonight, this could have been the last night of my life…
“Are you out of your fucking mind, Carter?”
I leaned against the clubhouse walls; my eyes drawn to the concrete floor. Word of my house burning to the ground quickly made its way to the city of Charming, the club being the first to respond. “It was an accident.” I muttered.
His head turned sharply in my direction, “An accident-“His voice stern. “Carter, you lit a fucking match and set the house a blaze. That’s not an accident – that’s fucking arson!”  
“Stop yelling at me.” My voice low. “If I say it was an accident then that’s what it fucking was, Jackson.” His body tensed as he grasped onto the chair. “You don’t know what it’s fucking like going back into a place where you once felt safe – content. Now you have to look over your shoulder every damn second, afraid someone is gonna be there and finish off what they started. I can’t bring Madison back into that house – I don’t feel safe anywhere, Jax.” Tears fell as I spoke. “What if those bastards come back and hurt our daughter? I can’t have that ever happening and if that meant burning down the God damn house then so be it.”
He let out a loud sigh, his hand running down his tired face. “I know this is a huge mess that you and the club are gonna have to clean up but it needed to happen.”
“It’s fine.” I looked at him. “Clay knows the fire marshal – paying off will be no problem.”
The room turned silent as I took a seat, my hands running through my hair. “You and Maddie will just have to stay at my place for the time being. Her room is already set up and most of her stuff is there anyway.” Jax spoke as he sat next to me. “Be like old times.” A smirk formed on his face.
I rolled my eyes, “Yeah – just like old times.”
“I still love you, Carter.” His voice more serious. “What I said the other day was just out of anger. I would never mean the things and names I called you.”
I glanced up at him, his eyes red with incoming tears. “We both said things that we never meant- that’s just how we work.” It was true – we would always say the vilest things toward one another. “Let’s just put it in the past like everything else, okay.”
He took my hand in his – my heart fluttering as he pressed his lips against my skin. “Promise.”
I moved what was left of mine and Madison’s things into Jax’s house. Half-sack was in charge of watching me – receiving orders from Jax to take out anyone that looked suspicious. I doubt Georgie and his goon squad would try anything right now – especially knowing that the club was on the warpath. I had him drive me over to the studio – Luann still in disbelief that this would happen to one of her girls. Jax had placed a couple of the prospects at the studio to protect the girls, even buying two large dogs in case no one was there during the night.
Luann was restricted to what she could do seeing as the feds were still looking into the business aspect of Cara Cara. The new talent that she had hired weeks before were already gone, either too scared or too greedy. Ima had decided to return after her little stint with Darby, basically begging Luann to take her back. Rumor was she even went and worked with Georgie for a week or two before crawling back.
“How’re you doing sweetheart?” Her arms wrapped around my frame.  
“Bout as good as I can be at this point.” I smiled as I pulled away slightly. “I’m sorry.” Tears formed in my eyes.
“Oh, Carter-“She sighed, pulling me back into the hug. “None of this was your fault, sweetie. You have to stop blaming yourself.”
We stayed silent as she continued to hug me – pulling away after a few minutes. “I should be the one apologizing to you – I’m the one that stirred shit up with him and he comes after you and the others.”
I looked at her confused, “Who else did he come after?”
She stayed silent for a moment, “Well-“She shifted in her seat. “One of his men threatened and punched Lyla in the face. Another guy followed Ima home and basically terrorized her all night by calling and stalking her. Jax and the guys have been trying but the more they press back, the worse the assaults get. They know you’re involved with Jax and that you’re one of my top earners. Georgie doesn’t just want to hurt you – he wants Jax and I to suffer too.”
“He approached me a week or two before the attack.” I spoke. “I was at the grocery store with Madison and the bastard came up to me while I was putting her in the car. Started telling me that I needed to drop you and work for a true professional. I of course told him no and to leave me alone. He obviously followed me home and I didn’t even know it. I’m just thankful Madison wasn’t home when they did it.”
“Why didn’t you tell me, Carter?
I shrugged my shoulders, “I thought I could handle it – plus you had enough on your plate at that time. I didn’t even tell Jax – I didn’t think it would come to the point it did.”
“Have you talked to anyone about it?”
I shook my head no. “I’ve been through shit like that before – I don’t need to talk to a fucking shrink and have them pick my brain about why I think this happened to me. I don’t need to tell a stranger about how my mom’s boyfriends would have their way with me and then how my mom would beat the hell out of me the next day. I don’t need them telling me that the reason I picked a career in porn is because my father wasn’t around and the abuse that I received when I was a kid. It’s nobody’s fucking business except mine.  
Luann stayed silent.
“I just want this whole thing to be forgotten. I was raped – attacked – it fucking happens.”
“Carter, shit like that doesn’t happen – it’s not supposed to fucking happen.” I rolled my eyes. “You may try to forget about it but that’s gonna eat you alive. Even if you don’t talk to a doctor about it – just try to talk to someone.”
I simply nodded my head, “Sure thing.” I forced a smile before walking away…
“I’ve missed you so much, baby doll.”
Her little legs and arms were wrapped tight against my body as I moved us around the room. I hadn’t seen my daughter in almost two weeks – crying as soon as I saw Jax’s truck pull into the driveway that night. I sprinted off the porch, throwing open the door, her little face lit up like a Christmas tree once she saw me.
“You stay here with me and daddy?” She asked as she played with my necklace.
I nodded my head, “Sure am, baby.”
I set her down on the floor, watching as she ran into the other room. I couldn’t help but cry – Jax coming to my side – his arm wrapping around my middle. “She missed you, kid.”
Moments later, her little sandaled feet came running back, construction paper in her tiny hands. “Mommy, I drew these for you when you were sick. Nana Gemma helped me with the glue and scissors.” She handed me the drawings. “That’s me and you when we go to the park and the other one is me, you, and daddy.”
I looked at the pictures, stick figures and scribbled coloring making my heart break even more. “Nana Gemma said that pictures would make you feel better – make the monsters go away.” Her little hand placed on my leg. “You like it, mommy?”
“I love it, sweetheart.” I pulled her in for another hug.
We ordered pizza that night for dinner, Madison crashing soon after. I carried her into the room, placing her into the princess bed Jax and Opie cursed over a year ago. I still remember the look of happiness on her face when she saw it for the first time. Jax and Opie’s face told another tale. I placed a kiss on her forehead before turning off the lights, cracking her door before walking towards the bathroom.
“All set?” Jax whispered as he leaned against the door frame.
I let out a sigh, “I think so.” I looked around – everything still the same from years before. My eyes caught the tub – Jax and I relaxing in the bubbles before bed most nights. As our relationship slowly started to end, I would go in there alone as my thoughts raced. A glass of champaign and too many lit candles keeping me company as the bubbles faded away.
I looked back at Jax, his eyes searching mine as I slowly started to remove my shirt. “What’re you doing?” He asked unsure. I stayed silent as I plugged the tub, pouring the rest of Madison’s bubble bath into the water. Our eyes stayed locked as I undressed – finally breaking as I stepped into the warm, welcoming water. It had been quite some time since Jax and I had been in an intimate situation. We would tease each other here and there but it had been over a year since we slept together. I just needed a familiar touch – not in a sensual way – but a protective, loving way.
He stood still – moving once I gave him the reassuring glance. I kept my focus ahead as he removed his clothes, moving up slightly as he placed himself behind me. As my back hit his chest, a sense of relief was lifted. My body was positioned between his – a protective bubble that made me feel whole once again. We stayed silent as I laid my head against this shoulder, his hands locked around my waist. Everything felt right for that moment in time.
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charmingsoa · 1 year
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■ Gunslinger ■                    Ch. 5
✶ Jax Teller/OC multi-chapter story ✶
🀰 Taglist available🀰
(TW: Mentions of rape, physical abuse) 
@cindsvibes​ @sweet--catrastrophe  @stephv213  @itspdameronthings​ @neverland14353​​  @sweetdispositionsss​ @fandom-oneshots-etc​ 
My eyes shot up once I felt the weight fall onto my body – his gloved hand slapping onto my mouth in order to keep me silent. The shadow from the streetlight giving the room enough glow to see the man’s features. I tried to scream, hit, and kick – only making the man more furious. With each blow that came from his fist, my willpower shrank more and more. I could feel his hand run down my body, pulling at my flannel shorts and underwear. His voice was that of a young man – somewhere in his early 20s – sending shivers down my spine as he spoke. His lips forcing themselves onto my body as I laid there, tears pouring from my eyes. The last time this happened was the night I left Alabama. I told myself that I would never let someone put me through a situation like this. Yet, I was powerless. His assailant stood off to the side, a gun pointed to my head as his partner raped me. I recognized the gun toting man right away – he was there the night Georgie stopped me in the parking lot.
“Carter – sweetheart – you need to tell us who did this to you.”
I watched as Jax paced the wooden floor behind Wayne – his ringed fingers threading through his hair. Unser arrived about 30 minutes before Jax – his eyes widening once he saw me on Tig’s couch. “I don’t know.” I muttered.
Unser let out a sigh, “Anything, darling. Can you tell me anything – maybe what they were wearing, if they had any ink that you could recognize, anything at all?” Tears fell as I shook my head.
What was the use of saying anything. The worst thing that could happen is that they would be arrested and then bailed out within hours due to lack of evidence. I already refused to go to the hospital. I wasn’t going to have the staff at St. Thomas look at me with pity and then even question if I’m telling the truth. I fucked people on film for a living – the damage inside of me had been done a long time of ago. Plus, I sat in the shower for over an hour before attempting to drive to Tig’s. As soon as I knew they were gone – I locked myself in the bathroom – tearing my clothes off and stepping under the scalding water. I’d already been through the whole rape kit exam – I didn’t want to go through the process again. I was supposed to be strong – I made myself out to be this strong woman, a bitch at times. I did this so people wouldn’t mess with me or my child.
I watched as Unser spoke with Jax, their eyes glancing towards me at times. I felt like a lion in a cage. Everyone kept looking at me, asking if I was okay. I would say that I was fine – breaking down seconds later. I knew they all meant well but I wasn’t fine. I was putting on a front that kept falling after every response. Georgie Caruso had broken me…
I spent the night and the next couple days at Tig’s house – too afraid to go back to my own. Jax kept asking me, almost forcing me at one point to stay with him but everyone knew where Jax lived. Georgie could have his men posted outside of Jax’s house, thinking that would be the place I felt most safe. I hadn’t seen Madison since earlier that day – my heart breaking each time she asked when I was picking her up. I couldn’t have her see me looking the way I did. No kid deserves to see their mom with their face busted and bruised. Jax had filled Gemma and Clay in on what happened – Gemma stopping by each day after dropping Maddie off at pre-school. I had become a hermit at this point – I showered 3-4 times a day, scrubbing my skin until it was raw. I could still feel his hands and lips on my skin – the contents of my stomach coming up each time I thought about it. I wasn’t eating. Each noise scared me. Luann was blowing up my phone but I couldn’t have her seeing me this way either. Georgie not only broke my soul but he took away my livelihood. Sure, I had sex with people on screen for a living, but I couldn’t stand someone touching me now.
“Baby, you have to eat.” Gemma pushed the bowel closer to the edge of the table.
I sat curled into Tig’s couch, only moving when I needed to use the bathroom. Gemma had shown up, receiving a call from Tig asking her to make sure I was okay so he could help Jax with some things. Jax had remained distant. My built-up anger going head-to-head with his rage a couple nights ago. He had shown up before Tig was back, trying to get me to tell him anything. I shied away at first but I became angrier the more he pressed. Minutes later we were at each other’s throats, words that we surely didn’t mean being thrown at one another. Even though he was the club’s VP, Tig basically threw him out of the house. I could hear Jax’s anger through the windows as he vented.
“I’m not hungry, Gemma.”
She sat there for a moment before hastily taking the bowel away, her heels clicking against the wood. I flinched at the sound of the ceramic cracking in the sink – Gemma letting out an exhausted sigh. She took a moment to collect herself before walking back towards the couch, sitting on the edge of the cushion. “Carter-“Her voice calm. “Darlin, you can’t keep doing this to yourself.” I glanced at her. “You went through something that a woman should never have to go through. You have every right to be frustrated, angry, and sad. I know you and I don’t see eye-to-eye on most things, but I love and care about you, sweetheart. You remind me so much of myself but you have something that I could never have.” She slowly grabbed my head, her thumb streaking the dry skin. “You have the courage and strength to get through this. You have a gift from God – that little girl is gonna give you the strength you need. She needs her mother and we both know you need her.” I wiped away the tears that fell. “You can bounce back from this – you can show those fucking bastards that you aren’t afraid. I know it’ll be hard but you have me. You have the club and Luann. Carter, you have Jackson. Let him help you too…”
I found the courage to leave Tig’s house a few days later. My heart pounded as I got closer to my house – flashbacks of the awful night searing through my brain. I needed this though. I needed to get back to who I was before. My daughter deserved to finally be home. Gemma and Tig helped me with my bags, Tig making sure to go through the house before I entered. The house was still intact – myself being the only thing damaged. I slowly made my way into my bedroom, the clothing from that night thrown on the bedroom floor. Spots of blood shown on the carpet – left over as I hurried to the bathroom.
“You okay, darlin?” I jumped at the sound of Gemma’s voice. “Shit, I’m sorry.” I brushed it off as I stepped further into the room. The pictures of Maddie that I had sitting on the night stand were thrown on the floor – the glass busted from the beautiful frames. The bedspread and sheets were hanging off the bed, blood stained and ruined. My breathing sped up as the thoughts returned. The flashbacks telling my brain a story – the sounds of their grunts as they forced their bodies onto mine. The way they tried to sweet talk me only to turn around and say things that no woman should be told. The way they laughed as I laid there – helpless and destroyed.
“Mother fucker!” I pulled at the sheets, yanking them off the bed in a fit of rage. The lamp that sat on the nightstand was the next victim – the tiffany glass shattering as it collided with the wall. Tig’s boots stomped up the stairs as he looked on with Gemma. I took a seat on the bed, my head pooling into my hands as I cried. Maybe it was too early to be back. Maybe I needed an extra day or week before coming back here. I wouldn’t be able to look at this room – this house – the same way again. “Maybe you guys should leave.” I looked at the two. “It’s about time to pick up Maddie anyway.”
“I’m not leaving you hear alone, Carter.” Tig’s voice holding strong.
“Anita can pick her up.” Gemma spoke next. “We can’t leave you like this Carter.”
I wiped my face, a chuckle slipping past my lips. “I’ll be fine.” My eyes locking with theirs. “I’m just gonna clean up a little and make sure everything is set for when Maddie comes home.” They looked at me confused. “I’ll be okay – you guys have babysat me enough and you need to get on with your lives.”
It took them 20 minutes to finally leave – both having me assure them that I was okay before they left. I waved them goodbye before the smile I held dropped, closing the door behind me. I walked back to my room, pulling the suitcase from the closet. I took my time pulling the clothes off the hangers, emptying the drawers, folding everything as neat as possible. I made sure to grab all the important documents from the top dresser drawer before moving into Madison’s room. Her clothes joined mine, grabbing the toys she loved the most before I started loading everything into my car. I bought the house when Jax and I separated – a house for just Madison and myself. It was the cutest little house – right out of a magazine. I didn’t have to worry about neighbors or the traffic from the main road. My daughter was able to safety play in the front yard – even spending the night under the stars during the summer if the weather allowed. This home was to keep her safe but it no longer felt that way.
I gave the house a once over before reaching into my pocket – feeling the small matchstick between my fingers. I walked over to the sink, the crumpled papers staring back at me. Taking a deep breath - the stick was lit – the orange flames slowly rising.
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charmingsoa · 1 year
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■ Gunslinger ■                     Ch. 4
✶ Jax Teller/OC multi-chapter story ✶
🀰 Taglist available🀰
@cindsvibes @sweet--catrastrophe @stephv213 @itspdameronthings @neverland14353​ 
Cara Cara was still offline.
It had been weeks since the raid, Luann going into hiding, no longer answering anyone’s calls. Some of the girls, Ima and her crowd, decided to find work elsewhere. Rumor has it, she was working for Darby to earn extra cash. I had learned in the past to put money aside, never knowing when something like this would happen or when I would grow tired of the profession. The shutdown was actually beneficial – giving me more time with my daughter. We played at the park, visited museums, even having a beach day one weekend. The worry that Georgie or one of his men would show up at any moment still lingered in the back of my mind. After the last encounter, I made sure to keep the gun loaded, vowing to just take them out if they were to approach again. I had confided in Lyla, herself having a run in with the creep as well. The only thing different between Lyla and myself was that she told Opie. I didn’t dare tell Jax – I was able to take care of myself.
I looked down at my cup of coffee – thanking the waitress as she refilled the cup. Madison was at dance class, giving me an hour to just pounder. I hadn’t spoken to Jax in days, only a few words over text about his weekend with Madison. I had her little bag packed in the car, ready to give her over once the class was through. Since the studio was shut down, the guys didn’t have anything to do over the weekend. There were no release parties and the actresses were all out doing whatever was needed to survive. The only females that were around the clubhouse were the dried-up hang-arounds that everyone had turns with.
“What’s a gorgeous girl like you sitting all alone for?”
I looked up, my eyes rolling as Darby took the empty seat in front of me. Ernest Darby – leader of the Nords, Charming’s local skinhead brigade. “I’m not in the mood for company, Darby.” I took a sip of my coffee. My past with Darby was seedy to say the least. Before I started working for Luann, Earnest Darby was my boss and supplier. I worked at the strip club the Nords owned, getting high enough to step out on stage and try to earn enough money to either get dinner or a motel room for the night. Darby always offered to let me stay at his place but I never accepted the offer. He was a slime ball.
“Heard Luann’s having a rough go at it.” His arm leaned against the back of the booth. “What’re you doing for money, Carter? Or are you living off of Samcro’s dirty dollars?”
I leaned back, my eyes trained on his bald head. “I don’t need Jax’s money, Darby. I’m managing just fine on my own.” My face showed of an annoyed smile.
“Some of your little co-stars are sure hurting – well maybe not anymore since they’re running the streets for me. You know how men are – find out they can pay money to fuck the porn stars they’re watching on tape – I can’t tell you how well business has been lately.”
So, the rumors were true. “I could always use one more.” He whispered. “No one has to know-“ He reached for my hand. “It’ll be our little secret.” I quickly pulled away as my anger started to rise.
“Eat shit and die, Darby.”
Before he could respond, sirens wailed as they raced past the diner, stopping short in front of the motel a couple blocks down. Fear and annoyance etched onto Darby’s face as he stumbled out of the booth. “Fuck.” He muttered as he raced out of the restaurant. Just by his action I could tell that his little prostitution ring was being raided at this time. I slowly walked towards the window, watching as the John’s scattered out of the rooms, trying to redress as they police chased after them. The girls were next- each barely dressed and most belonging to Cara Cara. Ima and one of her friends were carted out in handcuffs, Eglee moving her towards the awaiting car…
“I have two of my girls sitting in the police station and Jax won’t do a damn thing about it.” Luann had finally reached out to me once she heard the news of her crew’s arrest. “You need to talk to him, Carter. I can’t have Ima and Tiffany just sitting there on prostitution charges – you know how bad that looks on me as well?”
I rolled my eyes in annoyance, already knowing that Jax would take no part in getting the girls out of holding. “He’s not gonna budge, Luann.” Her eyes darting. “Ima already called him and he turned her down – told her to find her own way out of the cell.”
She paced around the room – a lit cigarette handing between her painted nails. “Maybe you can talk to Unser, see if he can cut them some slack of something.” I suggested.
She stopped to look at me, “Why don’t you talk to Unser.” She repeated as she walked towards me. “You’ve always been a favorite of his – almost like a younger Gemma.”
“It’s not my busin-“
“Your career is on the line, Carter!” Her voice raising. “If we don’t get those charges dropped then there is no way I’m gonna get my studio back. The feds will shut me down permanently.”
“They were working for Darby, not you.” Reasoning was no use at this point. “He would be the one getting charged.”
She took the seat next to mine, pulling my hand into hers. “Carter-“Her eyes welling up with tears. “Please?” Her hand trembling. “Please just do this for me – just this once.”
“Fine…”
I managed to speak with Unser later that day, telling him of Luann’s concerns. He had informed me that Ima and Tiffany told the officers that they were working for Jax at this time. He was the one that was sending them to the different places to meet with the men. Unser already knew this to be false, knowing that Darby was the one pimping the girls out. Samcro may have been involved with Cara Cara but they weren’t in the prostitution business. Unser explained that the girls were bailed out by an anonymous person – an out-of-towner. He didn’t know who the person was, saying that it was probably a client of theirs.
I spent the rest of the day at home, Madison spending her night at Gemma’s. She practically begged for her to stay over, pulling the “I never get to see here anymore” card. Jax was supposedly on a run with Opie and Bobby – more than likely posting up at Jury’s whorehouse. The event coming out of nowhere seeing as he was free hours before. I had the house to myself but the worries of Cara Cara’s fate halted me from enjoying myself. I thought about what I would do if the studio did close for good. I didn’t have an education to fall back on – I had a high school diploma and that was it. I didn’t want to rely on Jax and the club to keep me afloat just because I was the mother of Jax’s child.
I decided to go to bed early – the sleepless nights lately draining the life from me as each hour passed. I shut off the TV and turned the lights off before moving upstairs. I already had my pajamas on, simply slipping into the covers and resting my head against the soft pillows. I was out within minutes – the sound of the security chime ringing out without my knowledge…
I winced as the sunglasses laid against the cuts – the surprising coldness that California hides most of the year whipped through my bones as I waited at the paint-chipped door. His bike sat outside the door, the lights of his small home shining brightly through the blinds. I could hear movement as I looked around, my anxiety heightened tenfold.
“What the fuck do you wa-“
Tig’s sentence cut short, the beer bottle falling from his lips as he took in my state. “Holy shit, Carter.” His face paled as he ushered me into the house – his guest for the night looking up from her drink. He motioned for her to get out, basically throwing her out the door before joining me on the couch.  
“I didn’t know where else to go and you are the closest person and I didn’t want to go to Gemma’s because my daughter will see me. I don’t want her seeing me like this, Tig. I can’t have anyone seeing me like this.” I rambled as tears fell.
He enveloped me in his arms, quickly pulling away as I winced in pain. The jacket I wore hid the dark bruises that littered my arms – Tig’s eyes burning with fire as he looked me over. “I’m calling Jax.”
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charmingsoa · 1 year
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■ Gunslinger ■
          Ch. 3
✶ Jax Teller/OC multi-chapter story ✶
🀰 Taglist available🀰
@cindsvibes​ @sweet--catrastrophe 
Author’s note :  Hello again! So, I decided to change this story around a little. First off, I changed what Carter looked like, Mabel’s name is now Madison, and I also deleted the original 3rd and 4th chapters. I didn’t like where it was going so hopefully this will gel better. I also created a taglist that you can add your name to if you would like to be tagged for the story. I hope you all enjoy the latest chapter  :)  _________________________________________________
Fists pounding on the front door was not how I wanted to start my morning.
I had been up half the night with Madison, cleaning up vomit and trying to break her fever. By the time she finally crashed, it was almost sunrise and I was scheduled to be at the studio by 9:00. I ignored the knocking at first, hoping they would just go away, figuring they had the wrong house. Wishful thinking on my part because the knocking only seemed to get louder and more inpatient. I hastily pulled my robe over my sleep shirt, stomping down the stairs. I looked out the kitchen window, watching as a man and woman, both dressed in business casual attire stood on my porch. Badges hung on their shirt collars, DCS in dark, bold letters catching my eye.
I took a step back. Why would DCS be at my door this early in the morning? Why would CPS be at my door at all? This wasn’t my first time dealing with DCS, but this was my first time as a mother having them at my door. Protective services were at my mom’s house all the time growing up. Claims of abuse, neglect, the list goes on and fucking on. Some of the claims were bogus – made up by people that my mom and her boyfriend of the week pissed off. Then there were times when I prayed that they would show up. The abuse at the hands of her lovers would get to be too much and some marks are just too hard to hide.
Taking a deep breath, a hesitantly cracked open the door, “Can I help you?”
The man stood a little taller, his face remaining stoic. “Yes - are you Carter Teller?” I nodded my head, the door still cracked. “I’m Benjamin Fagen and this is Heather Letcher, we are with the department of children’s services. We received an anonymous call regarding the child that lives at this residence, Madison Teller. The caller stated that the child is being neglected and left in dangerous situations.”
My heart sank. “Neglect?” I muttered. “Someone is accusing me of neglecting my fucking child.” My anger rising. “Who the fuck was the anonymous person?”
“We are not at the liberty to say, ma’am.” The woman spoke.
This was ridiculous. I may not be a perfect mother but I make damn sure to always be there and protect my child. “Mrs. Teller, the caller stated that your daughter has been left alone while you are at your place of employment, Cara Care Productions. They also stated that members of a local motorcycle gang are around your daughter while in the possession of guns and drugs.”
“First of all-“ I pulled open the door, stepping closer to the two. “I would never leave my fucking daughter alone, not even for a fucking second. Secondly, the “local motorcycle gang” are members of her family. They would never put her life in danger.”
The man sighed, “Mrs. Teller, we just have to fo-“
“No-“ I interrupted. “I understand that this is your job but I don’t appreciate you coming to my house, at the crack of fucking dawn. Banging on my door like you’re a fucking ATF agent while my daughter is upstairs sick in bed. You can tell whoever you report to and also tell the person that filed the complaint that they can shove it up their asses and fuck the hell off.” I slammed the door in their faces, my back hitting the wooden structure once it was closed.
I don’t know if it’s because I barely slept or the fact that someone had the balls to say my child was being neglected, but I started to cry. The frustration from the encounter had come to a boiling point and my only outlet was to cry. My job was not the typical occupation that other parents held but it allowed me to keep a roof over Madison’s head and make sure she had food to eat every day. She was very well taken care of and loved to the moon and back. The anonymous person wasn’t concerned for her well-being. This person – the anonymous coward wanted to hurt me…
“This is bullshit, Carter!”
I ran my hand through my tangled hair – my head pounding as I watched the scene unfold in front of me. As if the day couldn’t get worse, Luann had called an hour after the DCS situation, yelling and screaming that the feds were raiding the warehouse. I didn’t bother changing out of my pajama shirt, just pulling on a pair of shorts as I packed Madison up. I dropped her off at Gemma’s since Anita was there and raced the warehouse, finding the place surrounded by unmarked police cars and FBI vans. Some of the newer girls huddled outside the building, watching with wide eyes as the men and women made their way in and out, computers, files, and paperwork in their hands. Jax’s bike was parked next to Luann’s convertible, still warm from his ride in.
He had no clue of what happened earlier this morning. I debated on telling him, afraid that he would erupt. Madison was his daughter too and he needed to know that someone was trying to spew a false narrative of how we cared for Maddie. “Oh, thank god!” Luann announced, rushing towards me. She pulled me tightly into her shaking body, tears seeping through my shirt.
I looked at Jax as I held onto Luann. He simply shook his head, leaning against the wall. Luann was in deep shit and Jax knew that it was his job to see if it could be eradicated. She was a first nine’s old lady – Jax owed it to Otto to keep Luanne protected and out of trouble.
“I’m sorry to pull you away from the baby.” She sniffed. “I didn’t know who else to call –“
“It’s okay.” I reassured.
She pulled away and started walking towards some of the other talent, comforting them as they watch their careers possibly go down the drain. “She’s freaking out.” I stepped closer to Jax. “What’s the plan?”
He stayed silent, shrugging his shoulders as his eyes did the talking. “You promised Otto that you would make sure nothing bad happens, Jax. Feds raiding this place-“I paused. “They’re gonna shut her down and that’ll be the end of her business. She has nothing else.” “You think I don’t know that?” His blue eyes stared into mine. “I’ll do what I can.”
I looked off to the side, shaking my head in anger at his little outburst. “And I don’t want you getting involved either.” His voice stern. “That’s the last fucking thing I need right now.”
“She’s like a mother to me, Jax-“ I spoke. “If she needs my help, then I’m gonna help her no matter what. You’re not the boss of me, babe. If I want to help Luann then that’s my fucking business- not yours, the clubs, nobody’s…”
I adjusted my sleeping daughter on my hip as we exited the store. I had to run a few errands before going home, not wanting to leave Madison with Gemma for the night. I didn’t bother to tell Jax that she was sick – not like he would have done anything. I also didn’t tell him about the DCS visit. He was already pissed about the CaraCara raid, telling him about the visit would only set him off further. I quickly buckled Maddie into her car seat, careful not to wake her up as I did so.
“Cute kid.”
I jumped in surprise, quickly turning around to find the source of the voice. “Who knew a porn star and an outlaw biker could make such a cute, innocent kid.” Georgie stood in front of me, his tall henchman standing close behind. “She’s gonna be some looker when she’s older.”
My hand immediately reached into my bag, feeling the cool metal of the gun as I wrapped my fingers around the handle. We were in a busy parking lot but that wouldn’t stop me from pulling it out and blasting holes into the fuckers. “You need to get the fuck away from me and my daughter before I fucking kill you.”
Georgie smiled, a soft chuckle leaving his lips. “You’re cute, you know that.” My heart leaped in my chest as he stepped closer. “I wouldn’t have to approach you like this if you would just join my crew and leave that old whore you’re working for. I can give you so much more – more money – more pleasure.” His voice lowering. “I’ve seen your work, Carter. I know how well your pretty little mouth works. I would love to just sink myself into that pussy of yours – see why Teller and all the men fawn over you so much.”  
My stomach rolled with nerves and nausea as he spoke. Those around us looked on as I kept my hand in my bag, ready to pull the gun out any minute. “I want to help you, Carter. I want to make you the star you deserve to be.”
“I’d rather be one of Ernest Darby’s street whores than ever work for your company.”
A sickening smile stayed on his pudgy pace, “Never say never sweetheart.”
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charmingsoa · 2 years
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☨ Fire Away ☨ Chapter Three 
▾ Caius Volturi x OC ▾ ▲ Warning: NSFW. Sexual content, cursing, physical contact ▲
⍏ Taglist: @xoxoindigo @vampluv3r @ladysybilchronicles @badkitty83​ @volturgeist​ @theplagueworm​ @dogmom2014​ @hybridlamb   @clandestine-nerd @yourfamilyfriendsatan​ @yourlocalrockstarsimp @violetlilites​ @quennconstanceuniverse​ 
★ Taglist now available ★
▿ Author’s note: Hi guys! I just want to apologize for this update. It’s not my best but I hope you all like it! This chapter is kind of a filler but it was needed for the next chapter. As always, I just want to thank everyone that read, liked, and joined the taglist for this story. It means so much to me guys! I greatly appreciate every single one of you! I’m sorry if there are any grammar mistakes. I will try to go back later and fix those. If you would like, make sure to check out the taglist link and add your tumblr name to the list :) Let me know if you have any questions, concerns, or just want to chat! I love answering your questions! ▿
✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥✥
I whimpered as he moved above me.
Caius moved his hips with mine as my fingers dug into his shoulders. I could smell the cigarette smoke that lingered from Victor, mixing with Caius’s cologne and the smell of increasing sweat. We had been going at it for a couple minutes, already finishing once and starting again. The first round was filled with nerves. I hadn’t been intimate with anyone in quiet some time, feeling nervous especially with Caius.
My heart was beating out of my chest as he slowly pulled my shirt over my head, leaving me exposed on top. His lips hesitantly found mine, almost asking for permission before I wrapped my arms around his neck. Our lips moved together in sync as our bare chest pressed together, his arms reaching down to my bottom, hiking me up on his hips. He knelt on the bed, dropping my body down on the mattress, our lips still connected. His lips soon started moving down, my fingers threading in his hair as he focused on my chest. His hands found the waistband of my shorts, removing his lips from my body, slowly pulling down my bottoms. I was now fully exposed, vulnerable. Even in the dark, I could feel his eyes raking down my body. I watched as he removed himself from the bed, stripping out of his pants before finding his place back on top of me.
I felt as he pulled the covers over our bodies, lining up our hips. My moans filled the air as our hips moved in sync, getting used to him as he took things slow. His lips danced across my neck, his teeth nipping and tugging on the skin. I heard the sound of a lighter igniting a cigarette, my eyes flashing over to Victor. The glow from flame igniting a low dim, his eyes perfectly trained on Caius and I.
My moans grew louder as Caius drew my body up to his, placing us in a sitting position. My legs were wrapped tightly around his hips, our chests once again flushed against one another. He went deeper, harder. I was holding on for dear life – his fingertips digging into my sides, making the pleasure even harder to resist…
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charmingsoa · 2 years
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☨ Fire Away ☨ Chapter Two: Part I  ▾ Caius Volturi x OC ▾ ▲ Warning: NSFW. Mentions of suicide, physical abuse, blood, cursing. sexual content ▲
⍏ Taglist: @xoxoindigo @littl3birdyg1rl @ladysybilchronicles
★ Taglist now available ★
▿ Author’s note: Hi guys! Oh my gosh- this is amazing! I didn’t think this would be a hit like it has been and I greatly appreciate it!! I want you all to know that I appreciate all of you for reading and showing love to this fic. I never written for this fandom before and I was scared because I changed things around. I am so freaking happy that you love it :) For this chapter, there will be two or three parts, I haven’t decided yet. I decided to post the next picture board because we will be going on the honeymoon in the next update…. That’ll be a fun time… I also have added the link for the taglist form. If you would like to be added, just click the link and fill out your tumblr name and if you have any questions. You are also more than welcomed to ask me questions on my page as well. Also, if there are any grammar mistakes, I will try to go back and fix them soon. Again, thanks so much for the love and I hope you enjoy the new chapter! ▿
♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎♠︎
I sat at the long table, finishing off the last of the whiskey that was left by the groomsmen.
I watched as the wedding party, my sister included, danced away to the music that blared from the DJ’s speakers. Everyone was having the time of their lives at my expense.  My parents sat at a table near mine, talking and laughing with other party guest. My eyes shifted to where Caius stood, his hands stuffed in his pockets as he spoke to his uncle. I watched as he stared straight ahead, nodding his head every once in a while, as the other man spoke.
“My, my-“A soft voice sounded. “What a shame to see the beautiful bride sitting all by herself.” Aro Volturi took the seat next to mine, his hazel eyes connecting with mine. “A girl like you should be glowing.”
I chose to ignore him, leaning my elbows against the lace tablecloth. Aro and Marcus were known around town as Cheshire villains. They would smile and be polite but as soon as you turned your back, you either had a knife plunged into your flesh or your whole entire world turned upside down. They had taught those “life” skills to their nephew, shaping him to be the next king. I remember going to my parent’s store, watching behind the counter as he or his brother spoke to my father. The way he would smile but his eyes burned into your soul like a raging bonfire. I knew my parents were afraid of the Volturi men. They had the advantage of taking away everything they worked for, myself included.
“Now, now-“He reached for my hand – his grip making it hard to pull away from his touch. “My nephew chose you for a reason, my darling Vanessa. He’s had his eye on you for some time now.” His smile shown. “My nephew can have any woman he wants – desires. He wanted you and you now belong to him. You’re the queen to his king. You are there to make sure he’s comforted, cherished. You are here to give him an heir to this family. You my dear have the biggest job of all.”
“Bullshit.” I gritted my teeth, pulling my hand out of his vice hold.
His smile slowly faded as his eyes darkened. “I understand you’re angry, darling.”  His voice low. “Just remember the reason for the occasion.” My eyes searched his. “You wouldn’t want to have your poor parents forced out of their business, would you?” The devil’s smile started to emerge. “A deal’s a deal, sweet Vanessa. You give my nephew the wife he needs and deserves. You stand by his side like a good wife should. You give him the child this family needs to move on and succeed once we have left this world. The Volturi name’s future is your responsibility.”
I watched silently as he stood up, smiling, before walking towards Caius and Marcus. His eyes glanced at me as he spoke to his nephew and brother, the same rotting grin on his face as before.
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charmingsoa · 2 years
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☨ Fire Away ☨ Chapter One 
▾ Caius Volturi x OC ▾ ▴ Warning: Murder, abuse (physical and emotional), sexual content, smoking, drug/alcohol abuse ▴ ▿ Author’s note: Welcome to the first chapter! I decided to change the title last minute seeing as it matched better. I would defiantly recommend watching Jamie cover this song. The video is on Youtube and it’s amazing!  As I stated in the previous post, this will not include any characters from Twilight other than Caius, Aro, and Marcus. The Volturi men will be members of a mafia family - no vampires. The Volturi men always gave me the mafia vibe, so I decided to try it out! I do not own any member of the Volturi - All rights reserved to the fabulous Stephanie Myers. This is purely fiction and something i’ve been wanting to do. I hope you all enjoy and if you would like to be tagged, please let me know! As for the updating schedule, I try to write on my days off, so I won’t give a definite schedule. I will post a picture preview before the actual chapter comes out. Again, thanks for reading - Enjoy! ▿
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The white lace stared back at me, mocking me as the lace and crystals danced in the late sunshine.  
I watched as those around me hurried to get ready, fixing stray hairs, fixing smudged makeup, and adjusting dresses accordingly. I didn’t know half the people inside the large dressing room. My mom and sister off to the side as they finished getting ready themselves. Everything about this day was supposed to be special. It was my wedding day – the day girls like me dreamed of since we’ve been toddlers. I remember playing with my Barbies, making sure to give them the best wedding I could offer. Paper towel dresses and flowers picked from the garden littered the living room floor. I made sure to invite every Barbie I had, not leaving even Skipper out of the biggest event of the day. I always envisioned my own wedding being similar. I wanted the beautiful dress that flowed and dragged behind me just like a royal princess. I wanted all my friends and family there to watch as I married the man of my dreams. The ceremony and venue being one for the history books, drenched in crystals and flowers. As a kid, you have all these dreams but forget that in order to achieve such a grander event, you needed the money to pay for everything.  
“Oh honey-“My mom’s voice sounded, her hand wrapped around my left arm. “You look absolutely stunning.”  
I stayed silent, tears threatening to spill past the makeup. I didn’t have anything to say. Her smiled slowly fell realizing that I wasn’t going to answer. “Please, sweetheart.” She whispered. “Please just talk to me.” Her brown eyes glared into mine through the mirrored glass. A look of pity and desperation etched onto her aging face. “We had no choice, Vanessa.”  
No choice.  
I had just gotten home from work, the house painfully quiet as my parents sat in the living room. The last time they acted like that was when my grandfather passed away – 15 years ago. I was directed to have a seat next to my mom, her hand instantly grasping mine as she sniffed away threatening tears. I watched as my father struggled for a moment, finally figuring out his words. It was explained to me that I was basically bought- like a piece of cattle, a price too much for my parents to turn down. They were granted financial security – protection for their business that was slowly faltering. They tried to persuade me that it would not only benefit me, but it would also benefit my sister in the long run. They would have the money to keep a roof over her head and have the money to send her to college. It was like this was a saving grace for the family- I was that price to pay.  
Caius Volturi was known around town as a villainous, spoiled gangster. His parents were killed when he was a young child, being raised by his uncles to take over the family business. The whole façade of a family winery being the backdrop of their illegal business endeavors. From the way my father talked, the Volturi family ran the area where their business was located. Caius and his uncles watched as my parents struggled, finally giving them an ultimatum – Me or their business. Being the righteous people they are, they gave away their oldest daughter in order to save face.  
I never met the guy, only hearing about him from the girls at work. He was a playboy – a womanizer. They would whisper about his bedroom abilities, telling of how he kicked them to the curve once he was through with them. I never understood the appeal. When my parents dropped the bomb that he was to be my husband, my whole word faltered. They tried to tell me that he would take care of me – making sure to protect me and give me whatever I wanted. What I wanted was to stay single and get enough money to move out of my parents’ house. Maybe they were getting rid of me because I was getting older, still single, while the other girls my age created families.
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charmingsoa · 2 years
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☗ Trouble ☗        Caius Volturi x OC 
(Will involve dark themes and mature content.) 
I do not own any character mentioned in the Twilight Saga. 
Author’s note: There will be no mention of other Twilight characters (ie: Bella, Edward, etc) The three main Volturi members (Caius, Aro, and Marcus) will be the only one’s mentioned. Instead of vampires, the Volturi family will be dangerous gangsters. I wanted to bring a little spin to the three, especially Caius. I can’t wait for you all to read it - stay tuned!
Story begins on July 3rd, 2022
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charmingsoa · 2 years
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Like We Never Loved at All ⇢ (1) → Part two ▲ Jake Kiszka x OC — 1970s AU ▲        ・ Word count: 3126 ・         ● Warning: Cursing ●        ◇ Flashbacks in italics ◇            ◀︎ Taglist available▶︎           ~ Tagged: @oskea93 ~
“Are you sure this a good idea?”
Lionel gave me a smile as he led us towards the back of the stage. “I think this is a fantastic idea, Cate. Not only will this skyrocket your career, it’ll bring you to a new audience and you’ll be living the dream, kid!”
I stayed silent, pulling at my dress as we stopped in front of the door. Lionel knocked once before entering, pulling me with him. The room was full of people, mostly girls flocking around a group of guys. The smell of cigarette smoke and alcohol nearly chocking me, causing me to cough in response. I watched as Lionel walked towards a curly headed man, their eyes connecting with mine as I stood there awkwardly.
Lionel soon signaled me over to them, “Cate, I want to introduce you to Josh Kiszka.” The man’s smile was wide. “He’s the main singer in Greta Van Fleet and your new singing partner.”
Josh placed his cigarette back in his mouth, stretching out his hand for me to shake. “Pleasure to meet you, Cate.” I accepted his gesture, smiling back. “Lionel has been telling us what an amazing talent you are – Fuck, your performance on the Johnny Carson show was magnificent.”
He was very eccentric – Out there. Honestly, I never heard of Greta Van Fleet. I didn’t know what type of music they made or any of their songs for that matter. All I knew was that Lionel said our sounds would be great together and the label wanted a record to be made. “Sam, Daniel-“ Josh called out. Two other guys with long hair looked up from their guest, excusing themselves as they walked towards us. “Gents, I would like for you to meet Cate, our new companion.”
“Like sexual?”
My eyes nearly left their sockets at his question. “Excuse me?” I felt Lionel’s arm tighten around me.
“Woah-“Josh laughed. “Sam’s totally joking.”
I looked up at Lionel, tightening my arms around my waist. “Let’s try to refrain from making inappropriate comments, gentleman, she’s only 17 years old.”
The three of them looked as if they had been hit by a truck. “A minor?” Josh spoke. “She’s a fucking minor?”
“Yeah, a fucking minor.” I spoke up. “Is that a fucking problem?”  
The whole room turned silent at this point as the company had placed their attention on me and the guys.
 “Little miss innocent has a mouth on her.” A voice sounded from the back. “Guess the wholesomeness is an act after all.”He had on a pair of sunglasses, hiding his glossy, brown eyes as his long hair hugged his shoulders. His cloth shirt unbuttoned, showing off his flat, tan torso. “Jake, leave her alone.” Josh spoke with a sigh. “We don’t need you blowing this.”
I watched as he pushed away the girl that hovered over him, making his way over to the group. “Cate – This is our brother, Jake. He’s our guitar player and residential pain in the ass.” I looked between Josh and Jake, now noticing that they were identical, aside from the clothes and hair length. “And yes, we’re twins but you’ll be able to tell us apart. I’m the handsome one and Jake is, well, he’s just Jake.”
I stayed silent. “Well-“ Josh’s voice laced with awkwardness. “Would you like something to drink or to eat?”
“She’s a fucking minor, remember.” Jake laughed. “The only thing we have to drink is booze and little miss can’t have booze.”
I was growing tired of his mouth. He was arrogant and the weight of their success was giving him a bigger ego than he needed. “I’m ready to go.” I turned towards Lionel. “I’m tired.”
Jake let out a loud laugh. “Poor little girl’s tired.” He mocked. “I’m sure it’s way past your bedtime, better get back to the hotel and get to bed before mommy and daddy find out.”  
I turned on my heel and started walking away, hearing Josh scolding his brother for his actions. Lionel was hot on my heels, trying to get me to stop but I didn’t want to be anywhere near Jake at this point. I hastily wiped away the tears that were starting to fall, feeling weak for letting his words get to me. I could usually keep my emotions at bay but there was something about his words and actions that had me an emotional wreck.
“Catherine, please!” Lionel finally shouted, causing me to stop. He was out of breath as he grabbed a hold of my arm, taking a moment to regain his composer. “Don’t-“He took a deep breath. “Don’t listen to him, okay.”
Before I could respond, Josh had caught up to us, “You okay?” He was concerned.
I didn’t say anything, more tears spilling from my eyes. He immediately pulled me in a hug, his hand running up and down my back in a comforting manner. “Shh.” He whispered. “Please don’t cry.”
He held onto me for a couple minutes before pulling away, brushing away the tears that had fallen. “Listen-“ He spoke softly. “Don’t listen to what he said. He’s drunk and when he’s drunk, he starts saying things out of his ass that he doesn’t mean.”
“He doesn’t even know me.” I muttered. “How can you talk to someone like that you don’t even know.” “Jake’s a prick, okay.” Josh laughed. “Plus, when he’s around a beautiful girl that he knows he has no chance with, he starts acting like a bigger prick and then by that point-“ He paused. “The girl has either walked away like you did or threw a drink in his face. I prefer the drink in the face – Sobers him up a bit.”
I removed myself from Josh’s grasp, taking a few steps back. I could see the other guys, sans Jake peeking out from the door, probably checking to see if I was okay. “I’m not making an album with you all if this is how it’s g-“
“I promise-“ Josh interrupted. “I will make sure Jake is on his best behavior. If not, well, I’ll let you throw a drink in my face. Okay?”
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charmingsoa · 2 years
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Like We Never Loved at All - Prologue 
Warning: Strong language 
Word count: 525
Jake Kiszka/ OC
Taglist available ←→
“It didn’t have to be this way.” 
I kept my eyes on the floor as the crowd’s roar softened behind the wooden door. “Yes, it does.” 
The room was stale and silent, the smell of his cigarette mixing with the smell of marijuana permanently stuck to his luggage lingered through the air. This was the last leg of the tour and at this point everyone had grown sick and tired of one another. Josh and I had stopped talking three cities ago. Sam and Danny decided to get on another bus to leave the drama that the three of us were causing. And Jake and I were back too square one, hatred and self-loathing present in us both. 
“You’re always running away from the fucking problem, Catherine.” My full name dripping like venom from his mouth. “Every bad situation you’ve come across gets left in the dust because you’re too scared to deal with the aftermath. Fuck-“ He ran his hand through his long hair. “Every good thing that has happened recently caused you to fucking run too. You run from anything and everything and I’m tired of it.” 
I scoffed at his words. “You’re one to talk, Jacob.” My voice heavy with emotion. “Ever since we started up again, all I’ve seen you do is self-indulged in drugs and pity. You get wasted and start acting out, only to get arrested and have the whole band go down with you. Do you know how many shows we missed because you’re either locked up in jail or passed out in some groupies bed?” 
I knew of the groupies and the backstage tryst as Josh and I practiced for the night’s performance. I would watch as the girls paraded themselves around him, dressed in barely- there outfits and making sure it was known that I see how their hands roam his body. In return, I would make sure to rub myself against any man that showed me attention at the clubs once the concerts and TV spots were over. I would wear my sexiest outfits, making sure he saw me leave, not giving him information as to where I was going. There were times where we would all go out and it would end in dance-floor brawls and screaming matches in the limo back to the hotels. After a while, I grew tired of the bullshit and decided to stay in as he and the guys enjoyed their nights of debauchery. 
When I agreed to rejoin the guys, I wasn’t thinking that Jake and I would continue what we once had. I had been asked to do a couple comeback specials with them, mimicking those that Elvis had done. We were to act, sing, and just be happy to be together again. NBC was calling it the event of the season, but I called it torture. I didn’t realize that the special would turn into a world tour and the madness that came with being on the road. Multiple court dates, hospital admissions, and a baby later – Never in my wildest dreams did I think that Jake Kiszka would turn my world upside down yet again…
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charmingsoa · 3 years
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Gunslinger (2)
Hey guys! First off, I want to say thank you to everyone that read and liked the first chapter. I’ve had this idea for a while and then I switched everything up and i’m so glad I did! If you would like to be tagged for this story, please let me know either in the comments or just message me. This story will somewhat follow the series but will also have non-cannon references as well. Again, thank you so much for all the love and please let me know if you want to be tagged :) 
“I can’t believe you, Jax!”
I slammed my hands against his hard chest, pushing him out of the way. My heels slapped against the concrete floor of the studio, the people around us looking around to see the commotion. I pushed through the dressing room door, a young actress and an unpatched member fucking against the wall greeting me. “Get the fuck out of here!” I exclaimed, fire coursing through my body. “Now!” The two quickly gathered their things, running past me and almost running into Jax as he followed close behind.
“You fucking knew I would be here, Carter.” Jax spoke. “You shouldn’t be surprised to see me here and then throw your typical tantrum.” I rolled my eyes, turning back to face him. In the back of my mind, I knew that he would be here. He probably spent less than an hour with our daughter before Gemma got a hold of her. She was supposed to stay at Jax’s house and spend time with her father, not be in the hands of Gemma for the whole night. He just couldn’t tear himself away from this party. “You look gorgeous.” His devilish smirk appeared. “You always look gorgeous.”
My face stayed stoic as I stared at him. That sexy little grin used to work but I knew that it also worked on anything with a pussy and tits. “It doesn’t work anymore, Jackson.” I spoke.
I watched as he slowly crept closer. “What?” His voice deep as he moved closer, causing me to bump into the wall behind me, cornered. “You used to love my smile- “His arms trapping me between him and the cool stone behind me. “Those clothes used to drop in a matter of seconds for this smile.” His body inches from mine as his hand curved around my waist, bringing us flush together. “You let these random men fuck you-“His hot breath landing on my neck, causing shivers to tingle down my spine. “Let a real man who actually knows what you like fuck you right.”
His lips pressed lightly against my neck, his fingers slipping under the hem of my dress. “You’re gonna fuck me right- “I moaned out. “You gonna fuck me like a real man.” His movements growing more aggressive as my moans became more frequent. I rolled my hips into his crotch, earning a satisfied groan to escape through his lips. “Too bad I get fucked by a real man every night or anytime I want.” I whispered against his lips.
His movements stopped, his body becoming rigid and frozen. “What?” He raised his head, his eyes blazing. I couldn’t help but smirk at his reaction.
“You heard me, Jax.” I spoke softly. “Anytime I want it, he’s there to deliver.”
He slowly backed away, “Who is it?” His voice sounded like he gargled gravel. Each time it was like that, I knew he was upset but it was also sexy to hear that growl.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” I smirked. “Let’s just say he stays at my place as a permanent fixture.” His arms crossed angrily across his chest. “He waits in my bedroom until I get home and then the party really begins.”
He started to speak but the sound of Luanne calling my name stopped him short. I quickly fixed my dress, checking to make sure my hair and makeup look presentable before going back to the party.
“Go home and be with our daughter, Jax.” I started towards the door. “Don’t leave her with your mother all night…”
I parked my car next to the massive Cadillac that belonged to Gemma Teller Morrow. Gemma and I’s relationship was like oil and water. We didn’t mix at all and often fought for dominance. Unfortunately, we were alike in many ways and that caused us to clash even more. We loved our families, and that love ran deep with Maddie in the mix. When I first found out I was pregnant, Gemma pushed her way in and did everything. She bought everything I needed for a new baby. She went to all my doctor’s appointments, hell, she was even in the delivery room when I had her. Madison was Gemma’s first and only grandchild, she was the little princess. As she grew older, Gemma’s control got worse. She wanted to be there every second of every minute. She would critique my parenting skills and tell me that I was doing everything wrong. She pitched a fit when I enrolled her into preschool and told me that Teller children aren’t supposed to be watched by others at such a young age. She wanted to be in Madison’s life constantly and that wasn’t going to fly. She may be able to bully her son around but when it comes to my daughter, Gemma Teller can kick fucking rocks.
“Mommy!”
I crouched down as Maddie ran in my direction, her little arms wrapping around my neck. I gave her an extra squeeze as I looked up, finding the queen bee standing directly in front of me. She removed her sunglasses; her typical resting bitch face ever present. “She was wondering when you would be here.” She spoke.
I slowly stood up, Maddie situated on my hip, “I take it Jax never picked her up last night like I told him to?”
“I know how to take care of my granddaughter, Carter.” Gemma bit back. “Jax had club shit to deal with and of course mommy was playing movie star.”
I gritted my teeth, keeping my anger at bay since I had Maddie, “Since when does the club become more important than your own child? Shouldn’t she be with her father, spending quality time with him, instead of being swept away by her overbearing, neurotic grandmother?”
Gemma stayed silent for a moment, “Well-“ She started. “Maybe if mommy wasn’t entertaining other men and sometimes women, mommy and daddy would still be together, and she wouldn’t have to go back and forth. Jax has business to attend to just like you do.” Gemma knew the true reason why Jax and I separated, and it wasn’t because of my job. She only said that to get even more under my skin. Gemma was always skeptical of me working of Luanne and the way I made my money. She didn’t want her son’s wife sucking dick for a living, but it was my fucking life and it payed my fucking bills, putting a roof over my daughter’s head. I worked my way out of the slums of Charming. That’s more than I can say for Gemma, who just fucked her way out of it.
“I need all of my little ladybugs to line up, please.” The dance teacher spoke as the girls all gathered around her. I gave Madison one last kiss before setting her back down so she could join the others. Gemma gave her a wave goodbye, eyeing the teacher before making her way towards the audience. Everyone was an enemy to Gemma. If you weren’t apart of SAMCRO, then you were an outsider who couldn’t be trusted. I was and still am that person to Gemma.
I took my seat next to Gemma, praying to God that the show started soon. “Who gave you those hickies, your John for the day?” Gemma spoke.
I didn’t even realize that Jax had made those marks last night until I looked in the mirror this morning. I did my best to cover them up, but Gemma was fucking Sherlock Holmes, spotting hickies miles away and covered in Maybelline foundation. “Maybe you should ask you son-“I shot back. “Seems he has trouble keeping his hands and lips to himself. Maybe he’s the whore after all.”
“He is a whore but at least he doesn’t fuck random people on screen for money.” I could feel her eyes burning holes into my head as I kept my gaze ahead of me.
“Well-“I cleared my throat, “You’re always bringing up the fact that I work at CaraCara-“ I turned my head to face her. “You jealous that you were never woman enough or maybe pretty enough to do what I do? Maybe that leash that John and Clay had you on was too tight.”
She stayed silent for a moment, a smirk slowly forming across her lips. “I’d rather have my leash too tight than be a fucking whore like you, Carter.”
“I may be a whore but I’m also the mother of your granddaughter and I control when and if she sees you-“ I paused, getting closer to her face. “Always remember that, Gemma.”
She started to say something but was stopped as the lights dimmed, and the curtain began to part. Madison was up front due to her size, Jax Teller’s famous smile shined on her face. The music started up as the girls  moved about, some fumbling and others following along perfectly.  I couldn’t help but laugh as Madison tried her best to keep up but relied on her neighbor to let her know what the next step was. The main thing was that she was having fun and that’s all that mattered…
“Okay, cut!” Luanne yelled behind the camera. “That was great girls.” I gave the two girls I had filmed with a smile before removing myself from the bed, pulling the sheet with me to cover up. It was well after midnight, but Luanne was adamant to get the rest of the scenes filmed tonight. The movie would go into postproduction starting tomorrow and a new release would be out in a matter of weeks.
I made my way to the showers, dropping the sheet in the doorway as I turned the facet on. I didn’t even care that the water was cold at first, taking a moment to finally heat up. My thighs and core were sore from the constant contractions, oral sex will do that to you, I guess. I looked down at the rest of my body, bite marks and red splotches littered my tan skin. Thankfully, the bites could be hidden to the outside world, especially my four-year-old. I stayed under the spray for a moment before lathering my hair and body. I could hear the others leaving, telling Luanne goodnight. It was typical for me to stay after once everyone was gone. I had a key to the warehouse and could come and go as I pleased.
“Carter, I’m heading out!” Luanne yelled. “See you tomorrow?”
I wiped away the water that ran down my face, “Sure thing.” I spoke out. “Have a goodnight.”
The sound of the door closing behind her sounded throughout the building. I finished rinsing off before turning the water off, reaching out for the towel I had set aside. I ran my fingers through my wet hair, deciding to just comb it at home, pulling it into a messy bun. I rubbed lotion down my legs before pulling my underwear on, followed by the sweatpants I had worn earlier. My sports bra and hoodie followed next as I gathered my things and made my way out. I locked up the studio, placing the keys into my purse as I walked to my awaiting car.
“Carter Teller?”
I nearly jumped out of my skin at the sound of my name being called. I quickly turned around, finding a man with glasses, a muscular man standing by his side. “Yeah?” I spoke.
He slowly stepped closer, the light from the parking lot allowing me to see more of his features. He looked to be a middle-aged man, dressed in a blue blazer and a pair of jeans. “Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart.” He smiled.
“You didn’t scare me-“ I stated. “What do you want?”
He looked over at his friend, “My name is Georgie Caruso-“He stuck his hand out. I stared at it for a moment, taking a step back. “Luanne and I go way back, and I’ve noticed that you seem to be the number one girl around here.” I watched as he dropped his hand, slipping it into his front pocket. “I actually run my own studio out in Stockton, Caruso Entertainment, bigger budget and more money for my actors.”
I stayed silent, my hand placed firmly inside of my purse, the cool metal of a gun meeting my senses.
“I know you’ve worked with Luanne for a long while but she’s in a shit ton of trouble with the feds and I would hate for such a beautiful girl like yourself to get pulled into all that bullshit. You deserve to be working for a company that has your back, not one that’s got a knife twisted into it.”
Luanne had confided in me that she was going through some legal issues but Jax and the guys assured her that everything would be taken care of. “I’m fine where I am, thanks.” I muttered.
The smile dropped from his face, “Caruso Entertainment is the best place for you to be right now, Carter. I can catapult you to superstardom and get you out of this shithole town.”
“I enjoy this shithole town and CaraCara is the best and only place I want to be, Mr. Caruso.” My face growing red with anger. “You and your friend need to get off the property before I call the police and have you arrested for trespassing.”
I could tell my answer was not the one he wanted to hear. “I’m gonna give you one last chance, Carter. You can either stay here and continue to be the biker whore or come with me and become the queen of porn.” His henchman took a step closer. “You and I both know what your choice needs to be.”
I wrapped my hand around the gun, bringing it out of the bag and pointing it in their direction. “You need to get the fuck out of my face before I put a fucking bullet into your chest.” My voice shook with nerves and anger. I watched as he called his guy back, a smirk present on his pugged face.
“Biker whore it is then.” Georgie’s voice full of venom, the smirk growing. “Don’t get too comfortable, sweetheart. You don’t know who you’re messing with.”
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