jaxteller87 - Tumblr blog

jaxteller87 · 2 days ago

Text

‘sweet and filthy bedtime story

Jax’s POV

It started like any other quiet morning. The kids were with Gemma for the weekend, and I was soaking in the rare silence that comes when you’re not running guns, chasing Mayans, or explaining to the Irish why they can’t use the word ‘favor’ when they mean to say ‘murder.’

I was looking for the TV remote, digging through the couch like it was a damn treasure hunt when I found Amber’s phone.

It was unlocked so naturally, I tapped the screen, expecting a recipe to pop up, maybe some Pinterest boards. You know— normal wife stuff.

Instead, it picked up right where she left off.

“I wrapped my hands around her throat, and she grinned. Remember your safe word, kitten…”

I blinked. I had that feeling of being a kid and finding something scandalous. After I made sure that the coast was clear, I sat back. My jaw hung open in amazement like I’d just seen Clay in a tutu.

‘What the hell did I just hear?’

I swiped up to see what the app was. It was some kind of... audiobook?

If you wanted to call it that. But this wasn’t Pride and Prejudice, my sweet little Amber was listening to straight-up porn-on-tape.

And it wasn’t the softcore kind either. This was the real deal. The voice actor sounded like a cross between Morgan Freeman and a southern mechanic. Smooth, low, gravelly. The way the guy said ‘kitten’ almost made me question myself.

I started scrolling. Not because I was snooping— but because I was trying to understand what she was into. Well, that and I guess I was snooping a little too…

Searches included:

Praise

Degrading

Anal

Bondage

Phone sex

Age difference

Makeup sex

Role play

I actually whispered, “Jesus Christ, Amber…” out loud when it was supposed to be under my breath. I would expect this kind of thing if I’d just opened Tig’s browsing history, but not my darlin’ Amber.

Okay, if I’m being honest, it wasn’t too shocking— I know she can have a dirty little mind at times— but God damn.

This? This was Tig-level filth. Hell, I bet this could even make stonecold Happy blush— and that is no easy task.

But then, right under all that, I saw her saved favorites.

Aftercare

Praise

Boyfriend banter

Sleep aid

Silver linings

Affirmations

And after that, it made a little more sense. My girl didn’t just want heat. She wanted heart. Or so her browsing history would suggest. She wanted someone to make her feel safe and seen, even when it got dark and dirty.

Now that— that I understood.

I was mid-thought, still holding her phone, when I heard the telltale sound of her chair rolling up behind me.

“Please God, no. Tell me you’re not…” Amber’s voice trailed off.

I turned around slowly like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “So... you listen to porn. That’s uh— that’s cool.”

I grinned, teasing. She wheeled over, laughing nervously. Her face was redder than the time some kid nicked Bobby’s suitcase containing his Elvis costume before a show, and he had to chase him two blocks to get it back. The only reason the kid dropped it was because he was laughing so hard at Bobby trying to keep up.

“I’ve been judging myself for months,” she groaned, trying to hide her face in my chest.

I reached over and pulled her into my lap, gently. “C’mere.”

I wrapped my arms around her. “So... a few days ago when I barely got through the door and you jumped me like a cat on caffeine... that was audiobook-fueled, huh?”

She groaned louder. “I will never recover from this conversation.”

“Hey. Look at me…kitten,” I teased.

“Christ, Jax!” She peeked up. Her cheeks were burning, but she was smiling.

“Ha! I couldn’t resist. But listen, if this stuff makes you feel good, makes you more open with me—hell yeah, I’m on board,” I said. “Although, gotta admit, that ‘choking’ line? Took me by surprise.”

“I actually stopped listening to that one,” she laughed. “It was a bit much, even for me. But the narrator… his voice is a lot like yours. Soothing. Kinda cocky.”

“Well, now you’re just flattering me,” I smirked.

She leaned closer. “There’s something about how he mixes the dirty with the sweet stuff. Like, one minute it’s ‘be my good little plaything,’ and the next it’s ‘I love how safe you feel in my arms.’ That’s what I enjoy.”

I nodded. “Balance. Kinda like us.”

Then I grinned wider. “You ever think about us when you listen to those?”

She didn’t even answer. Just buried her face in my chest again like she wanted to crawl into my ribcage and die.

“That’s a yes,” I teased.

“…That’s why I jumped you last week when you got home early,” she mumbled.

I laughed and kissed her forehead. “You’re adorable.”

Later that week, I was at the clubhouse doing some club shit.

“Hey, Jax,” Tig called out as I walked into the lounge. “You ever do the thing where you read erotica out loud to your old lady while doing… the deed?”

I blinked. “What?”

“Y’know,” he shrugged. “Multi-tasking. Like a bedtime story, but with more... spanking.”

Chibs leaned back, sipping his beer. “Jesus, Tiggy. What the hell are you watching now?”

“Wasn’t me!” Tig defended. “I heard it from Ratboy. Apparently, it’s a thing now.”

Ratboy shrugged. “My uncle started taking these romance classes online, some broad he was talkin’ to said she was into it now, it’s all he talks about. My girl likes it too, so…”

“Only thing I read to my woman is the expiration date on condoms,” Piney muttered from the couch. “If I still had one.”

We all just stared at him.

“What?” He belted.

I sat down next to Bobby, who had his feet up and was polishing his guitar. “Amber’s been listening to those audiobooks.”

Bobby raised an eyebrow. “Like romance?”

I coughed. “Like... porn. With a plot. Mostly.”

Chibs grinned. “Plot’s overrated, aye. It’s just filler between the good stuff.”

Tig leaned in. “Want me to start recording some lines for you?”

I glared. “If you ever send my wife an audio file, I’ll have Happy shave your balls while you sleep.”

“Who’s to say they’re not already shaved?” Tig retorted.

“With a machete,” I added.

Tig gulped. “Noted, VP.”

Later that night, back at home, Amber was curled up in bed, earbuds in, cheeks a little flushed. I crawled in beside her and snatched one out.

“Guess what.”

“What?” she smiled.

“I made you a playlist.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Not that kind of playlist,” I chuckled. “But... maybe later.”

I held up my phone. “One track. Narrated by yours truly. It’s not exactly smut... but it starts with us on my bike, riding down a dirt road, your arms around my waist, your head pressed to my back…”

She stared at me, eyes wide. “You did that?”

“Yup. Voice and all. Even dropped a ‘kitten’ in there for authenticity.”

She laughed, full-bodied and bright. “You’re ridiculous. But I would have settled for ‘darlin.’”

“Understood,” I said with a kiss.

“No worries,” Amber kissed me back. “Just make sure the sequel is chock-full of’em.”

Ambers POV

My back ached. My arms felt like overcooked spaghetti. And if someone so much as breathed in my direction with a bad attitude, I’d consider running them over— with love, of course.

I tossed my keys into the dish by the door and wheeled straight into the living room, muttering under my breath like some scheming, grumpy cartoon witch.

Jax wasn’t home yet. The house was quiet, and the fading afternoon sun made everything feel a little warmer than it was.

All I wanted was to kick back, throw on my earbuds, and let a smooth-talking stranger tell me I was the center of the universe while also calling me names I’d slap someone for in public.

Don’t judge me. Women contain multitudes.

I tapped my audiobook app and pressed play.

And froze.

“Hey, Angel. You’re right. I listened to more of those stories. And yeah… the sound effects? Kinda cringe, as the kids say these days.”

I blinked. Pulled the earbud out and stared at it like it was talking directly to me. It had been just over a week since Jax had given me his own original recording. It was a very sweet gesture, but I didn’t think he would actually take my request for a sequel to heart.

“But I thought maybe since you enjoyed the first story I came up with, that perhaps you’d like this one too.”

I was just as shocked as I was when I listened to the first one. This is Jackson Teller, the man who once told me (while we were dating, too), “I don’t do feelings, I do solutions.” I’m pretty sure he used that same line a few weeks ago after getting my period snacks from three different gas stations because he couldn’t remember the brand.

Now he was narrating…for me….again.

I melted.

“We’re on my bike, heading down one of those dirt roads that go on forever. You’re behind me, arms tight around my waist. Your cheek’s pressed into my back. I can feel you smile every time the wind rushes over us…”

I swear I melted like ice cream on a red-hot Harley engine.

I leaned back in my chair, heart hammering, face burning, and pressed play again. This time, I let it play until my eyes drifted shut.

And that’s when I felt it—real arms wrapping around me, warm lips pressing to my forehead.

“Papa,” I mumbled, barely awake but smiling like a dork.

“Angel,” he whispered back.

“Best husband in the entire world,” I yawned.

“In the entire world? Damn, I’m gonna have to put that on a T-shirt,” he chuckled.

“Maybe I’ll stitch it into your kutte.”

He smiled at me, and I drifted off to sleep.

The following morning, I stopped by the garage mostly because I missed him. Partially because I wanted to see if anyone else knew he was now an amateur smut narrator.

The boys were out front. Bobby was smoking, Juice had two iced coffees, and Tig—God help me—was standing too close to the parts cleaner with a grin that said I’ve done something awful and I hope it gets me arrested.

“Hey, sweetness,” Tig greeted me. “Surprised to see you out of the bedroom now that Jax is moonlighting as a phone sex operator and all.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Who told you?”

“Club has ears,” Bobby mumbled. “Also, Chibs walked in on him recording a ‘sweet and filthy bedtime story’ yesterday, and he hasn’t recovered since.”

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” Tig put his hand on my shoulder. “All the boys said they’d buy a copy— it’s sure to be a top-seller like, overnight.”

Juice, ever the sensitive soul, offered me a straw from his second coffee. “You okay?”

I took it gratefully. “I’m great. Just processing the fact that my old man’s voice is now my new favorite… relaxation tool.”

Ratboy sat down on the rickety couch in the corner. “Hey, Amber! Your husband docked my hours this week. Think I can get a free copy?”

Tig threw a wrench at him. “You’ll pay like the rest of us and support your brother and his smut peddling side-business.”

He dodged it, but barely.

Later that night, Jax and I were curled up in bed. The lights were off. The only sound was the ceiling fan.

“You really listened to a full book?” I asked, still kinda stunned.

“I listened to two of them, actually, but couldn’t finish either. Sound effects gave me a flashback to the time Bobby got food poisoning from the all-you-can-eat shrimp buffet in Ventura County.”

I choked laughing.

“But yeah,” he continued, pulling me closer. “I figured if it helps you relax— and it brings us closer— why not lean into it?”

“You narrated a whole story for me.”

“I did. Twice.”

“You realize Tig wants a copy now?”

“I’ll record him one personally—just fifteen minutes of me calling him a bitch or something.”

I giggled and rested my head against his chest. His hand moved up and down my back in slow, steady circles.

“You make me feel safe,” I whispered. “Even when I’m a little weird or a lot extra.”

“That’s the job, Angel.”

“And you’re good at it,” I replied.

We lay there like that, tangled up in love, chaos, and just the right amount of filth.

Who needs fairy tales when your man is the Prince of Charming?

#jax teller fanfiction #jax teller fluff #jax x oc #jax teller x disabled reader #jax teller imagine

6 notes · View notes

jaxteller87 · 5 days ago

Text

Nightmare

I had just gotten home from Teller-Morrow. It was a rather underwhelming, otherwise relatively shitty day. I hate to say it, but between the overtime and the patch, I’ve been having one too many of those days on my calendar. To put it into perspective, I showed up at the shop at five yesterday morning— now it was almost two in the morning— the following day. On top of that, it was in the seventies when I left but low fifties when I rode back.

The cold bite of the night still clung to my jacket, which also managed to penetrate through to my skin. When I stepped off my bike, a chill ran down my spine.

It’s been a long time since I’ve been ‘cold.’

Overall, things at the garage had been busy as hell lately, and I’d wanted to get shit done so I could have some real time with my old lady. Being shorthanded helps that problem in no way, of course. Clay has the prospects running some hazing mission with Bobby, Juice, and Happy this week. And rightfully so, as their loyalty has been brought up more than a few times during table talk.

If you want that patch, we gotta know that your bonds of loyalty are thicker than blood… if not, then SAMCRO wants nothing to do with you.

The house was quiet when I walked in, so I silently kicked off my boots, stripped off my cut, and made my way down the hall toward the bedroom.

“…Jax… no… don’t leave me… I’ll do better… I promise… please don’t go…”

I froze right where I stood.

Admittedly, I was a little sleep-deprived, and I’m not necessarily sure what I think about ghosts, but hearing the voice of a woman calling my name out like that was enough to make my blood run cold.

That was until I finally realized what was going on.

“Shit.”

Amber only talks in her sleep when she’s having a nightmare.

I stood there for a second, letting my eyes adjust to the dark, listening to the broken sound of her voice. It twisted something deep in my chest. I initially was just going to go wake her up, but something in the back of my head made me stand perfectly still and listen.

“…Please… Jax, I’ll do better… I’ll be the woman you want… the woman you… deserve…”

Yeah… I figured this was coming. It had been a few days since the meltdown at the hibachi place. She’d been doing better— laughing more, smiling more— but I’d had this feeling in my gut that it was coming back around. Her mind’s a dangerous place sometimes, but I guess that goes for anyone— especially the company I keep.

I sighed and headed to the kitchen, filling a glass with iced tea, Amber’s comfort drink. This would hopefully do the trick and ground her, but either way, I figured she’d need it.

By the time I made it to the bedroom, she was still caught in it. Her face was tight, and her breath was coming in shallow gasps.

“Please, Jax… don’t leave me… Don’t leave me for Tara… I’ll do better…”

That hit harder than it should have. Just hearing the words actually come out of her mouth was like driving a dagger through my heart.

I sat down beside her and brushed her hair away from her face. “Angel… Papa’s right here,” I murmured, smoothing my hand down her arm. “It’s just a dream. I’m not going anywhere. I swear.”

“Jax…” Her voice was fragile.

“Right here, love,” I whispered, my hand curling around hers. “Right here.”

Her eyes fluttered open, wild and glassy, as she came back to me. Her breathing was ragged, and her hand shot up to grip my shirt like she was scared I’d disappear.

“It was a dream,” I said softly, resting my forehead against hers.

Amber’s eyes filled with tears. “Jax… I’m sorry… please don’t leave me…”

“Shh… my love… I’m not going anywhere,” I promised. “Ever.”

She pressed her face into my chest as I wrapped my arms around her. Her body was shaking— small tremors running through her as she came down from it. I rubbed her back, letting my hand drift over the scar at the base of her spine.

“Here.” I handed her the glass of tea. “Drink.”

She sat up just enough to take a sip, her hands still trembling a little. I tucked her back under the blanket when she was done, stroking her hair as she settled against me.

A few minutes passed before she spoke. “It was the nightmare,” she whispered.

I didn’t need to ask which one because when she mentions ‘the nightmare,’ it’s always the same:

I come home, tired and cold, the weight of the club pressing down on me. Amber’s there, sitting on the couch— soft sweater hanging off one shoulder, legs tucked under her like she’s been waiting for me all night. She smiles at me, but I don’t sit down. I don’t even take off my cut. I just stand there with a cold stare, and my hands curled into fists.

“I can’t do this anymore,” I tell her. The room feels cold. I’m detached in a way that makes her flinch like I raised a hand to her or threw something.

“Jax?” Her smile fades.

I shake my head. “I’m done.”

She’s afraid one wrong move will make me disappear. “What… what are you saying?”

“I can’t handle it anymore.” I sound tired. Angry. Broken. “I need… less. Less of…this. Less weight. Being with you is… it’s smothering Amber. Like a wet blanket, I can’t breathe.”

Her lips parted, a sharp breath catching in her throat. “Jax…”

“Save it. I’m leaving.”

Tears well up in her eyes. “Leaving? For what?”

“Someone.”

“Who?”

“For Tara,” I say. The name hangs in the air like poison.

Amber threw herself back against the couch as I hit her. “W-what?”

“Tara’s stable. Steady. Easy. She gets me, she gets Gemma. She’s practically patched in.”

“Patched in?”

“Once Gemma’s gone, she’ll be the head of the club’s matriarchy.”

“Jackson… If you teach me, I could—”

“No.” My mouth curls into a cruel smile—the kind I’d never give her in real life. “She doesn’t come with the… complications.”

She’s crying now, hands shaking as she grips the hem of her sweater. “But… I’ll do better,” she whispers. “I swear, Jax, I’ll do better. Just don’t—don’t go.”

I step toward her. She reaches for me, but I pull back.

“I’m sorry,” I say, voice flat.

“Don’t be sorry. Just don’t do it! Don’t leave.”

“I’m not sorry for leaving. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long to realize something I should have figured out the day we started seeing each other.”

“Jax…”

I can’t do this anymore.”

And then I turn and walk out the door.

That’s where it ends. Sometimes, Tara is waiting for me outside, sitting on the back of my Harley, wearing the soul-wrenching grin of the succubus that she is. Sometimes, it’s Wendy, but most of the time, it ends with the door slamming in her face. In fact, the first time she told me about the nightmare, I left on my Harley with Tara on the back, and we ended up getting killed in a head-on collision with an eighteen-wheeler.

How fuckin’ wild is that?

The fear, the betrayal—it follows her even after she wakes up. Lingers like smoke.

And every time she tells me about it, the details get sharper. Clearer. Like it’s not just her nightmare anymore— it’s mine too. The thought of walking away from her, of causing that kind of pain… it sticks in my chest like a spear. I could never say those things to her. I could never mean them.

But some part of her mind—the part that’s scarred from every time life tried to tear her down— believes I might.

That’s what kills me the most.

Like I’d ever walk away from her.

“When I leave you,” I said, “it’s gonna be because I’m dead.”

Amber let out a shaky laugh, curling her arm around my waist. “Nah, if you go before me, you won’t escape that easily. You’re going in an urn or a fancy cedar box above the fireplace.”

The idea was cute, I admit. “Honestly… I figure we’ll be one of those creepy couples. You know, one dies, and the other follows a few months later. ‘Cause our lives are so tied together, neither of us would know how to function without the other.”

“Yeah,” Amber sighed against my neck. “That’s probably true.”

“And like we’ve talked about,” she whispered, “that’s why these dreams feel so real. When I wake up… it takes a minute to shake it off.”

I kissed the top of her head. “But you always wake up.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment, just breathed against my skin. Then she smiled faintly.

“…Are you sniffing me?”

I chuckled. “What?”

Amber buried her face deeper into my neck. “Yup. Sure am. Like I’ve said for years… if I could bottle the way you smell, I’d wear it every day.”

I laughed. “You’d scare people away.��

“Probably.”

I tightened my hold on her, letting my hand slide down her back. My fingertips brushed over the scar there—the one from the surgery a few years ago. Amber went through hell with that one. But she never stopped fighting. Never stopped showing up.

“You’re safe, my love,” I whispered.

Amber leaned back just enough to kiss my cheek. “And so are you.”

I shook my head. “But that’s the thing… I don’t feel like I’ve ever slipped through the cracks with you. Not once.”

Her eyes softened. “You sure?”

“Positive,” I said, brushing her hair behind her ear.

Amber sighed again and tucked herself closer, pressing her hand flat against my chest. My heart was steady under her palm. I kissed the top of her head and closed my eyes.

Yeah. At that moment, it was pretty obvious… we’d be one of those couples. No doubt about it.

#jax teller fanfiction #jax x oc #jax teller fluff #jax teller x disabled reader #jax teller imagine

5 notes · View notes