secretlysamcro

[secretlysamcro]

I’ve seen the way you blog. Something ain’t right. Let’s be friends

[secretlysamcro]

“huh, you like that darlin’?”

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

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

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 — word count; 939

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“jesus christ Jackie”

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

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

“this is on you brother”

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

“sorry bout that, darlin’”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“my little exhibitionist, hm?“

requests are open here !

[secretlysamcro]

jax is the type of guy who silently stares when you fall asleep on the couch, before carrying you back to bed with a cigarette still dangling from his lips. the type of guy who quietly refills your coffee every morning, without you having to ask. the type to buy you stupid little things he sees in gas stations; a pink lighter, cheap silver earrings, cherry chapstick he licks off your lips. jax is the type of guy who whispers “be good” before pulling your panties to the side in the garage while the boys are still out front. the type who whispers filth in your ear as he buries his fingers inside you, begging you to come for him.

[secretlysamcro]

can we request more texts…it’s so fun to read 😇

YES YES AND YES. They don’t take near as much time as the actual written fics so yes & I LOVE doing them!!! 🖤🫶🏽

[secretlysamcro]

Mugshot Madness | 🖤🐦‍⬛

Jax reacting to you (his younger gf) sticking his mugshot up on the fridge 🍒✨🌺🖤🫶🏽

HUGE shoutout to my cherry pie gyalllll @jinxedkaix the ideas you come up with? ���‍💨 honestly means so so so so so much that you trust me to make them come to life, love ya forever 🤭💅🏽

TW: Mild smut of course, it’s me ffs.

*gif does not belong to me.

xoxo secretlysamcro

[secretlysamcro]

Every unhinged fic writer needs an equally unhinged friend who "yes ands" their ideas and encourages them to write all their most far fetched and insane stories.

[secretlysamcro]

need ur opinion on jax with a younger girl with a sense of humour like mine.. he’ll comes home to his mugshot on the fridge with magnets.

-cherry pie anon 🍒

🍒🍒🍒 coming tonight my looooooove. Text thread style 😉

[secretlysamcro]

I so enjoy reading other people’s opinions and takes on TIG, like it gets me thinking and makes me want to just send all these asks, but I hold myself back 🤭

Anon!!!! this is exactly how I feel I love reading EVERYTHING you all ask, suggest, question (especially for till it’s gone) PLS don’t hold back I fucking love it all 🫶🏽🖤

[secretlysamcro]

Thank you for sharing Jax and Reader with us, I can’t pinpoint why exactly these two have such a hold on me but they do, I enjoy the extras you write as well.

TIG/Jax and Reader are my comfort series.

Truly I’m so grateful that you brought this into my life 💜

THANK YOU! For taking the time to read it all and for your lovely message honestly, all of these anons are making me so fucking happy I don’t think u all understand 🥹🤭 love u fucking all 🫶🏽

[secretlysamcro]

Reading my own fanfiction is basically just a rollercoaster of emotional whiplash.

20% of the time: “Hold on. I wrote this? This is fire. This is emotionally devastating in the best way. This scene is dripping with tension. I’m a literary perfectionist. Someone give me a book deal.”

80% of the time: “Straight to jail. Immediate prison. Why is everyone’s breath hitching?. I used the word ‘gaze’ three times in one paragraph like I was possessed. Did I think 'his eyes darkened' was profound? Why is everyone clenching their jaws? Why is someone whispering 'their name like a prayer' again?? No one talks like this. What is this dialogue. Why are there so many weird metaphors and em-dashes…”

[secretlysamcro]

DECODE

CHAPTER ELEVEN

˚. ✦.˳·˖✶ ⋆. ⸻ Jax Teller x fem!oc (SOA X MAYANS MC CROSSOVER)

˳·˖➛ author's note; hey guys, sorry for the long silence. I'm trying to update this story more often again! 🫶🏻 Also, quick info; Margaret Murphy is a girl's girl in this story and actually acts fair; which means she'll have Amelia's back. And please don't be mad at me for the ending, I promise there's smut in the next chapter, lol.

˳·˖➛ (trigger) warning; implied smut, Tara being Tara.

˳·˖➛ random info; you can find all chapters of this story in my main masterlist {pinned post}, it'll lead you to the right masterlist. every like, comment and/or reblog is welcome and appreciated. 🖤🍒

˳·˖➛ tag list; @sjester42-blog @crescentqueenxx @secretlysamcro @ravennaortiz @staley83 @anonymouse1807 @ivegotparticulartaste

˳·˖➛ word count; 2593

A week had already passed since Amelia and Mia had arrived in Charming, and the Latina was slowly feeling at home again. Not just because of old times; Charming had been her home before she'd even met Jax, and she'd loved everything about the small town with the charming nameᅳ even though many claimed it was toxic. She and Angel had talked on the phone every day, something her brother had insisted on. It was important to him to know how his sister and niece were doing; that was all he really cared aboutᅳ and her father also called at least every other day. Unlike Angel, however, he kept it short, showing that he was still a man of few words, but the words he spoke were always genuine.

Did a part of her feel bad about wanting to stay here with Mia, Jax and Abel? Yes, because she'd have to leave Angel and her father, fairly certain that the two of them wouldn't move because of her. Maybe Angel; after all, he could ask for a transfer, and that was exactly what Amelia wanted to ask him tomorrow when her oldest brother would come to visit.

The Reyes woman still had some savings, which was the only reason she could afford to take so much time offᅳ and because Jax let her stay with him and she didn't have to pay for a hotel. Still, she couldn't help but think of Mia and Abel, even though she knew Jax wouldn't hesitate to support her financially. Two days ago, she'd had a fairly large sum of money in her account, transferred by a law firm without any explanationᅳ but she knew Jax was behind it. Two days earlier, they'd discussed how he wanted to pay her back what he owed her for Mia that he didn't pay over the past year and a half.

When she'd asked him about it, all she got was, "It's yours, babe," and that was the end of the discussion for the blonde biker. It wasn't that Amelia wasn't grateful, she was, but she didn't want to give the impression that she was only here for the money. That's why she had spontaneously decided to head to St. Thomas, leaving both her kids with Jenna while Jax and Ope had to do club stuff and Gemma was busy in the office. She had already worked here once and loved the job. The hospital in Santo Padre was good, her colleagues were nice, but it had never been St. Thomasᅳ and a huge part of her was tired of running into It's girlfriend every single day.

The Latina nervously rubbed her hands together as she strolled along the corridor, occasionally seeing a familiar face, although most of them didn't have time to talkᅳ which was understandable, after all, they had to take care of their patients. It quieted down a bit when the brunette reached the right floor, which was almost entirely filled with offices; including that of Margaret Murphy, who was mostly responsible for hiring new people.

'You can do this,' the brunette told herself before lifting her hand to knock on the door. Patiently, she took a step back as she heard movement behind the closed door, her heart racing with excitement.

As the door opened, the older woman with the red hair's smile faded and turned into a surprised expression. "Miss Reyes, this is a surprise. What brings you here?"

"Hi Mrs. Murphy, nice to see you," Amelia replied with a polite smile, her expression sincere. "I don't know if you're available right now, but if so, I'd like to apply for a job as nurseᅳ maybe even my old position."

"You want to come back?" Margaret's eyebrows shot up, her head tilted slightly. "That's not usually the norm after someone disappears overnight and leaves the team without any warning."

Amelia nodded, sincerely sorry, knowing exactly what that must've looked like back then. "I know that wasn't okay; but I had my reasons. If you don't want me to come back, you can just tell me, reallyᅳ I'd understand."

"I didn't say that," the older woman said carefully, her chin slightly raised, but her gaze softened nonetheless. "We're currently looking for more nurses. So if you're serious, we can discuss this further."

After the brunette thought she was about to be sent away, Amelia's eyes lit up, her hands clutching the handle of her bag. "That would be great, really. Are you free right now?"

After a quick glance at the watch on her wrist, Margaret stepped aside to allow Amelia to enter. "Please sit down, Miss Reyes."

And that was exactly what Amelia did. With a huge, grateful smile plastered on her face, the brunette pushed past the administrator and sat down on one of the two chairs in front of the large desk. If this worked out and she could really get her old job back, that would probably be a sign that she should stay in Charming. The only person she had talked about this yet was Jenna, and it was an understatement to say that her best friend had been excited. A part of Amelia wondered how Jax would react, if he'd be happy about thisᅳ and now there was a chance she'd find out soon if she actually got the job back.

˳·˖ ᅳ

With a firm handshake, Margaret bid Amelia a goodbye, smiling to herself as she watched the brunette leave. The Reyes woman had always been an asset to the team, and Margaret appreciated that; which was why, after a long conversation, she had given Amelia her job back.

As she was about to get a fresh coffee, she paused for a moment as Tara came down the hall and stopped abruptly when she saw Amelia, and the slightly younger woman did exactly the same. As if they no longer knew how to function normally, the two women just stared at each other, their faces expressionless and cold. Only when Amelia walked on without a word, not even bothering to look back at Tara, did the doctor also walk off with a snort, coming right in her direction.

"What is Amelia Reyes doing here?" was her first question to Margaret, the harsh tone taking the administrator back a bit.

"She applied for her old job, and I rehired her," the redhead explained, her forehead furrowed in thought. "Is there a problem with that, Dr. Knowles?"

"She's staying in Charming? I don't know if I'd trust that." Tara's lips formed into a thin line, and it took everything in her to keep her composure. "But no, I don't have a problem with that. Why should I?"

Straightening her shoulders, Margaret clasped her hands in front of her skirt and cleared her throat. "I know your history with Jax Teller, Dr. Knowles; and I know Miss Reyes also has a history with him," her tone was calm but held a certain authority. "I hope this doesn't lead to problemsᅳ on either side."

Biting the inside of her cheeks, Tara put on a tight-lipped smile. "No, not at all. Miss Reyes and I will simply stay out of each other's way as much as possible."

"Don't worry, I've assigned Miss Reyes to her old ward, which isn't your area anyway. That means you won't see each other often," the older woman hummed, making it clear that Amelia wouldn't be the problem here. "And now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to take my break."

Tara chocked back a scoff at the audacity of Margaret talking to her like that, to a doctor. "Of course, enjoy your lunch break."

"Thank you, Dr. Knowles," Margaret replied with a hint of sarcasm in her tone; she could practically hear the bitterness dripping from Tara's words. "You too, don't work too much."

And with that, including a friendly smile, Margaret strolled down the hall and toward the cafeteria. In the future, she would definitely keep an eye on the tension between Amelia and Tara and make sure the patients wouldn't suffer under this little war going on between them. But fact was; the hospital needed good nurses and that's why she had rehired Amelia.

˳·˖ ᅳ

It was already dark outside when Jax walked through the front door, the jingle of his keys echoing through the house as he dropped them into the key bowl on the dresser. The house was surprisingly quiet, and immediately made him wonder why. Normally, the house was filled with Abel's laughter, or, for the past few days, Mia's cheerful babbling when he came homeᅳ but nothing, pure silence.

The strange feeling in the pit of his stomach only subsided when he entered the kitchen, his white Nikes squeaking against the floor, and found Amelia. She was sitting at the table with two cups of coffee and held one out to him as he stood before her, her smile genuine and warmᅳ a smile that could bring him to his knees.

"Hey, where are the kids?" He leaned down a little to press a kiss to the top of her head, hoping it wasn't too much. But he couldn't have her around and not show her any affection. "And why are you smilin' like that? Not that I'm complaining though."

"You'll find out soon." Amelia let out a small chuckle as that crooked grin formed on his lips, his gaze still fixed on her while she sat the cup of coffee back down on the table. "Abel and Mia are with Jenna and Ope until tomorrow, I hope that's okay."

"Yeah, sure," he replied, still confused by the situation. Amelia had tried everything to avoid spending time with him alone, and now she decided to spend a whole night with just him? "Is there a reason for that?"

"Actually, yes," the brunette nodded slightly, tucking her lower lip between her teeth as Jax came even closer. So close that she could practically inhale his scentᅳ which she discreetly did. When their eyes locked after she lifted her head slightly, she sucked in a little more air as usual as, his deep blue eyes staring in her soul. Why did the man have to be so freakin' handsome? "Iᅳ I got my job back at St. Thomas, which means I'm staying. I have two weeks until I have to start."

Jax' blue eyes widened, speechless for a moment. This wasn't what he'd expected, and yet it was so much better. "Wait, are you serious? You're not kiddin'?"

"Do I look like I'm kiddin'?" she asked, her tone teasing. Suddenly, without giving it much thought, she began to fiddle with the hem of his Kutte, unexpectedly pulling him a little closer. "I want this to work, Jax. And it wouldn't if one of us lives in Santo Padre and one here. It's also not really a great solution for our babies if I leave again with Mia."

Silence stretched between the two, but not an uncomfortable one. Amelia looked up expectantly, studying Jax' thoughtful features, which seemed so much harder than they did only a moment ago. His clenched jaw showed he was thinking, as did the small crinkles at the corners of his eyes as he squinted them slightly. The dim light emphasized all the right angles of his face, causing Amelia to swallow when he suddenly caged her in with his arms, one palm planted on the table, the other braced against the top row of the chair she was sitting on.

His face was only inches from hers, and his hot breath fluttered against her skin. Her spine straightened and her head unconsciously craned up, craving more of the man. Jax looked down at her through half-open eyelids, and her own fluttered shut as her breath became shallow. The air around them crackled just as it did years ago, only now she had more doubts than thenᅳ but even those vanished as Jax took the final step and closed the remaining space between their lips, pressing his own against hers. His hands found her face, and the chair creaked beneath her as the blonde pulled her to her feet and flush against him.

The taste, the way his tongue dipped into her mouth and brushed against hers, so fuckin' gentle yet possessive. Her entire body reacted to every single touch, the way his thumbs rubbed against her cheekbones and his fingertips dug into the flesh of her neck. If he could melt into her, he fuckin' would.

And Amelia wasn't shy either. Her hands gripped the collar of his Kutte as if her life depended on it while her body snuggled against his, her soft breasts pressing against his hard chest; sending a direct wave of arousal to her core.

Nothing more than the smacking sounds of the kiss could be heard, the occasional half-whimper from the brunette as the kiss deepened and became more demanding, definitely heading in a direction Amelia still wanted to avoid. But how could she with that man? Everything in her body screamed for Jax Teller and to get railed by him in the best way possible.

When his hands found her hips, his grip firm and decisive, he pulled away from the kiss, breathless, and let his forehead fall against hers. Still, he let his lips ghost over hers, pecking at them, his blonde, almost golden beard with the few grey streaks gently scratching against her chin.

"You have no idea how fuckin' hard it is for me to control myself, darlin'," he croaked, his voice rough, low, and tinged with impatience as he gave her hips a squeeze. "How much I need you.."

Amelia swallowed softly, her breath still ragged as she looked at him with those bedroom eyes, her voice just a hoarse whisper. "Then don't and take what you want."

As Jax looked down at her, perplexed, she got on her tiptoes and stole a kiss from his lips, his own slightly chapped yet still so soft. "I want you. No, I need you, Jax."

"Are you sure, babe?" he asked with a frown, barely able to control himself or other body parts' reactions any longer, his pants already getting tight around the crotch. And when Amelia nodded slowly, her breath shallow and ragged before a quick 'yes, I'm sure' left her plump lips, he sent her a grin. "Aight. I'm all about the service, darlin'."

That was exactly what he did, he claimed her, pulling her back into a kiss filled with even more desire than before, slowly leading her toward the hallway while she was pushing the leather off his shoulders. The kiss felt like he trying to express how much it meant to him that she was staying, that she was doing this for them.

And Amelia felt it, she felt all of his emotions flowing into that feverish kiss, and it was a whirlwind of different emotions that she felt in return. Sleeping with him didn't mean everything would be the same as before, but it was a start, and even if it sounded selfish, she needed this for herself right now.

[secretlysamcro]

Not Like Before Chapter Four

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader Word Count: 4.3k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Fic Masterlist]

Warnings/tags: 18+; nurse!Reader, canon-divergence (no Abel or Thomas), fluff, angst, friends to lovers, eventual smut, girl dad Jax

a/n: I seriously love how excited y'all are for this series, thank you so much for all the love on it! The feedback is always appreciated! Dividers by the lovely @secretlysamcro.

series tag list: @kmc1989 @secretlysamcro @chloe-skywalker @cindsvibes @aussiefangirl95 @sjester42-blog @danzer8705 @uknowmesstuff @mmarysha @shiggynuggiez @stevie75 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @kaydallas21  @orymgraves @unholycheesesnack @livewaspsblog @leather-n-velvet @staley83 @moongirlgodness @shelbyteller @li22ie2017 @ivegotparticulartaste

Emilia skipped beside you on the sidewalk, happily bouncing along the pavement with her gray stuffed bunny tucked beneath one of her arms–Bartleby, her favorite plushie. Her little pink corduroy backpack covered in its white floral pattern hung from one of your shoulders as you walked her to preschool. Raising the tumbler filled with iced coffee to your mouth, you took a sip of the cool liquid, the coffee counteracting the warmth of the spring morning.

You’d come to enjoy your morning walks with Em to preschool over the past few weeks, and you’d noticed how much she enjoyed them, too. It was a pleasant change from the chaotic mornings you’d always had trying to get her to her old preschool back near Fresno. The mornings always used to be a crazy rush to get both of you ready and out the door, dropping her off before you had to high-tail it to the hospital in time for work. 

Since today was Wednesday, it meant that you had the day off due to your weird schedule at St. Thomas. Not that it really mattered what your schedule was like anymore since this hospital had a daycare which remained open on the weekends, allowing you to leave Em there during your shifts. Your previous hospital didn’t have a daycare and had been far less accommodating with your schedule, so you often had to shell out extra money for childcare expenses besides the daycare you paid for during the week–which had already cost you a fortune. The included childcare at St. Thomas had played a massive deciding factor into why you’d moved further north to this small town, especially after how quickly they'd wanted to hire you.

And with Emilia attending preschool every weekday morning until noon, it also meant that today you could walk her to school before having a few hours to yourself–a rarity as a single mom. It was yet another reason you’d begun to like this move to Charming from the Fresno area. You were able to relax at home with Harley, or run some errands without having to tote around a four year old who continually reminded you just how boring it was to grocery shop.

Skipping ahead of you on the sidewalk by a few steps as her school came into view, Emilia turned around and began to walk backwards, Bartleby still clutched to her chest. She grinned up at you as she walked, a bright smile stretched across her face. One that now reminded you of the man you’d just reconnected with the other day.

“Are you enjoying Mrs. Herman's class, bunny?” you asked Em, trying to shift your thoughts away from her father.

Emilia nodded enthusiastically at the question, the bow in her hair bouncing at the gesture. You’d been worried that changing her preschool more than halfway through the school year would have made for a difficult transition for her, but so far she’d seemed happy with the move. And with how outgoing she was, Emilia didn’t struggle to make friends.

“Yes! I like Mrs. Herman,” she answered in her small voice. “She's nice.”

You'd come to find that yourself when you'd met her teacher. She seemed far more patient and content with her job dealing with young children than Em's previous preschool teacher did. Ms. Wells had always come across as easily frazzled and frustrated.

“Are you excited about class this morning?” you asked.

“Yes,” Em said, one of her fingers absently curling Bartleby's worn, gray ears around it. “We're gardening this week!”

You smiled back at Emilia, holding your hand out towards her for her to take. Uncurling the stuffed bunny's ear from her finger, she skipped back over towards you before slipping her small hand into yours, following you down the path that led towards Charming Elementary School. She didn't once lose an ounce of excitement the closer to the building she became–Em loved school.

“I saw that in the newsletter Mrs. Herman sent out for this week,” you told her. “You're planting some vegetables, right?”

“Yeah, and then we get to watch them grow really big!” she exclaimed.

To emphasize her point, she raised both of her hands–including the one still holding yours–high above her head in exaggeration. Your smile spread wider across your lips before you squeezed her hand in yours, the pair of you gradually approaching the entrance to the public preschool on the far end of the building. A handful of other parents and grandparents were already standing there with their preschoolers as they waited for the doors to open for drop-off.

“That’s pretty big, bunny,” you said. “You think they’ll fit in the classroom if they grow that large?”

Emilia’s brows drew tight together on her forehead, her nose scrunching up on her face as she tilted her head in thought. Biting your lip, you fought back the laugh threatening to spill out of you while you watched her genuinely consider the question.

“Probably not,” she finally decided, shaking her head. 

“What do you think will happen if they get too big?” you asked her.

“I dunno,” she replied with a shrug. “Break the building, I guess.”

An amused breath fell out of you at how casually she’d said that. “Yeah?” you asked. “And what would you do with tomatoes that large?”

“Make pizza sauce, of course,” she answered easily

Humming in response to her answer, you led the pair of you over to the school before leaning your back against the brick, waiting for the doors to open for the morning preschool classes. You took a sip of your iced coffee as Emilia contentedly swung your conjoined hands back and forth between you both. A few of the other parents you’d begun to recognize from drop-off and pick-up smiled over at you, and you gave them a faint nod in greeting. 

“Can we go to the garage after school?” Em asked suddenly, looking up at you. “To see the Harleys?”

You nearly choked on the sip of coffee you’d taken at her question, attempting to clear your throat while you stalled for time to think of an answer for her yet again. She unfortunately had not forgotten about the open invitation that woman had given you days ago in the hospital parking lot. Periodically throughout the week you’d had Em asking if you could take her there so she could see their bikes and watch the mechanics work on cars, and you’d had to repeatedly make up an excuse as to why you couldn’t–which had often resulted in a few meltdowns. More than once you’d mentally envisioned running that dark-haired woman over with your car for putting that thought into your daughter’s head. The fact that you’d now come to realize that Emilia’s father would be there with his bike had only made everything twenty times worse.

“No, Em,” you told her, a strained smile spreading over your face. “That’s not really a place for little kids. I told you, people work there and they’re busy. It’s not a playground.”

Confusion crossed Emilia’s face as she continued to stare up at you. “But…the nice lady invited us.”

‘Nice’ was certainly a relative term to describe her.

“Bunny,” you began, lowering down into a crouch to be at her eye-level as you spoke, “sometimes people say things like that to be polite. It doesn’t always mean that they meant what they said.”

“So…she was lying?” Emilia asked.

You sighed deeply, trying to figure out how to safely navigate this topic of conversation. Why was explaining things to a four year old so damn difficult?

“No, Em,” you told her, shaking your head. “She wasn’t lying, she was just making a polite offer. One she probably didn’t intend for us to actually follow through on. It was just to be friendly, but not really something she expected us to do.”

“But I wanted to see the bikes,” she said, her expression shifting into a pout.

You had a feeling she was on the brink of another meltdown if you didn’t find a way to get through to her. Though you figured that if Jax wanted to be in his daughter’s life, she’d be seeing plenty of bikes soon enough. Which you knew she’d absolutely love, but you couldn’t quite tell her any of that yet because he still had no idea she even existed, and you had no idea if he would even want to be in her life. It had been two days since you’d ran into him in the hospital hallway, and with no way to contact him still, you hadn’t exactly had an opportunity to talk to him about everything to even find out.

“I’m eventually going to need an oil change, bunny,” you reminded her. “And that’s the only garage in town. You’ll get to see them then, alright?”

“Promise?” she asked hopefully.

Behind you, you heard the door to the school open as one of the preschool teachers greeted the adults and kids waiting outside. You were grateful for the timing, wanting to drop this conversation with her before it led to a tantrum.

“I promise,” you told her. Opening your arms wide, you raised a brow at her. “Now can I get a hug before you go to class?”

The pout left her face before she jumped into your arms, wrapping hers around your neck. You held her for a moment before letting her go, and then you slipped her backpack off of your shoulder before sticking Bartleby inside. Afterwards, you helped her slip the straps over her small arms.

“Have a good day at school, bunny,” you told her, standing back up. “I’ll pick you up after and we can walk home and have some lunch, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, a grin on her face like the past two minutes of her disappointment had been erased. “Love you, mama!”

“I love you, too, Em,” you replied.

She darted off past you and straight towards the door, her backpack bouncing along her back with her quick steps. You stood there watching her until she’d disappeared inside the school, then you turned and started to make your way back from where you’d just come. 

Unfortunately, as you began making your way down the path that led to the school from the sidewalk by the main road, the one which led in the direction towards your house, your mind returned to Jax now that Emilia wasn’t here to distract you. You really did need to find a way to get in touch with him. You couldn’t keep putting off telling him about your daughter. But what were you supposed to do? It was beginning to feel more and more as if your only choice was to show up at the Sons’ clubhouse and ask if he was around just to find a chance to talk to him alone. It didn’t seem likely that you’d magically run into him on your own in the right circumstances in order to have such a serious conversation with him.

Drawing your coffee up to your lips for a drink as you walked down the sidewalk along the main road, the morning sun gradually began to warm you a little more than it had when you’d first left your house. But as you tried to cool down and wake up with the drink you’d brought with you, you heard the approaching rumble of a motorcycle. The sound had begun to catch your attention more than usual ever since you’d run into Emilia’s father, your eyes shifting towards the street almost involuntarily. A black bike going just over the speed limit along the otherwise empty street was quickly making its way towards you. It wasn’t until the bike neared that you saw who was riding it–Jax. 

Despite the sunglasses covering his face, it was unmistakably him, his blonde hair peeking out from beneath his helmet. As he neared, he’d clearly recognized you walking on the sidewalk in return. His head turned in your direction, his gaze locked on you as you continued walking and staring right back at him. He was no longer paying attention to the road ahead of himself now that he'd spotted you.

Time felt like it slowed to a crawl as you locked eyes with him. Lowering your tumbler of coffee to your side, you felt an odd jolt in your stomach at the sight of him before a flutter of nerves followed after it. Something felt like it was drawing you both together, his eyes fixed on you for only seconds but they felt like minutes, your own gaze unable to tear away from him. 

Why had he remembered you? Why was he looking at you like that? And why the hell did that night have to keep replaying in your mind ever since you'd run into him?

Inevitably forced to turn his attention back to the road after he passed you, the rumble of Jax’s motorcycle gradually disappeared into the distance the further he grew down the street. Focusing back on the sidewalk ahead of yourself, you were left with that strange feeling settling in your chest. 

What the hell had that just been?

Jax sat smoking a cigarette outside of the clubhouse, the afternoon sun in the sky overhead bearing down on him. As he wrapped his lips around the end of his smoke, he took another deep inhale from it as his mind drifted back to this morning. Back to when he’d seen you outside walking along the sidewalk. That weird pull you had on him–the one he couldn’t fucking explain–had made him want to turn his bike back around just to talk to you, or to offer you a ride to wherever the hell you’d been going. Anything just to have a few minutes more with you.

He didn’t understand it. How the hell could you make him feel like this? So goddamn pathetic and stupid? Jax wasn’t the sort of guy to get hung up on some girl, and he certainly wasn’t the type to let one haunt him like you’d been doing for five long years. Whatever connection you’d both had all those years ago had to have just been a one-time thing, right? Maybe further enhanced by the alcohol and the hours of sex. There was no way some girl he barely knew had this much of an effect on him.

But the way he’d felt when he’d seen you in that hospital hallway the other day felt very goddamn real. He swore his heart had stopped beating for a minute the second he’d locked eyes on you, unable to believe that he’d just stumbled on you again after all of this time. What the hell were the odds of that? He’d been telling himself for years that he needed to let that night with you go, that it was just a fun night he’d had once and nothing more. But then there you fucking were, appearing in his life unexpectedly like some outside force had put you back in his path again on purpose. 

You’d smelled the same as he remembered. That florally citrus scent of yours had made his head spin when he’d been talking to you in that hallway. It had been almost impossible for him to focus on the conversation when memories of you clinging to him, panting in his ear as he fucked you, kept resurfacing in his mind just because of how you smelled. He wondered if you’d still taste like vanilla if he got his mouth on yours again, or if you yourself tasted as good as he remembered. 

In the time since he’d unexpectedly ran into you again, he’d admittedly thought about you quite a bit. Mostly about finding a way to get you back into his bed, wanting to bury himself between your thighs in more than one way. Would fucking you one more time get you out of his head? Was that all he needed to do here? Maybe he just needed to prove to himself that there wasn’t anything special about you, that you were just some girl like all the others he'd had. Maybe he’d been misremembering the connection he’d felt that night–but goddamn had he felt something the other day when he’d seen you.

Someone clapping Jax roughly on the shoulder broke him straight out of his thoughts as he pulled the cigarette from between his lips. Jax glanced up from his place atop one of the picnic tables, catching Opie’s eye as he came to a stop beside the table. Opie gestured at him to scoot over, so Jax slid along the worn tabletop and made room for him. Hopping up beside him, Opie pulled a cigarette out of his own pack before sliding it between his lips and lighting it.

“Look lost in thought over here,” Opie said around the smoke. “Thinking about club shit or your dream girl?”

Jax rolled his eyes at the comment, instantly regretting that he’d ever opened up to Opie about you the other week. He’d managed to go the last two days without him bringing you up, and he’d thought he was in the clear with that, but apparently he was wrong. Opie was just biding his time before he did what Jax had been expecting him to–mentioning how he’d unexpectedly run into you in the hospital.

“She ain’t my dream girl, asshole,” Jax snapped. 

“Ahh,” Opie replied, grinning as he expelled a cloud of smoke. He was used to Jax’s snippy attitude, the look on his face making it apparent that he’d expected it. “So you were thinking about her.”

Looking over his shoulder at Opie, Jax’s eyes narrowed into an annoyed glare. “Not what I fuckin’ said, man.”

Opie shrugged as he raised the cigarette back up to his lips. “Not really denying it, either,” he pointed out. 

Shaking his head, Jax quietly took another drag from his cigarette as he sat beside Opie, the sounds of Teller-Morrow’s busy garage drifting along on the warm breeze. He wondered if it was possible that he might get away with not having a discussion about you, but he also knew Opie. He knew his best friend wasn’t going to just let this slide, especially not after what Jax had told him about you before he’d known that you were here in Charming. It didn’t help that Opie had seen the look on Jax’s face when he’d spotted you at St. Thomas–there was no hiding that he’d had a reaction.

“Must’ve been a pretty big shock when you saw her the other day,” Opie began carefully, his gaze fixed straight ahead on the garage. “Never thought you’d see her again and then boom. Suddenly she’s right fucking there.”

Jax didn’t respond as he flicked some ash off the end of his cigarette. He wouldn’t admit it to Opie, but he’d first thought he’d lost his damn mind and had finally started hallucinating you for a minute until you didn’t just vanish into thin air on him. And when you’d spoken, confirming you were indeed that girl from his past, for the briefest moment he’d wondered what the hell he’d done to deserve that kind of luck for you to just reappear in his life again. Because he certainly didn’t think he’d done anything to warrant that sort of good fortune. 

Seeing you had come as more than just a shock–it had felt like some sort of goddamn sign. He just wasn't entirely sure for what.

“She say how long she’s been here for?” Opie pressed when Jax didn’t answer.

Expelling a long, frustrated sigh, Jax glanced over his shoulder at his friend beside him. The look Opie returned clearly told Jax that he wasn’t about to just brush over this like it didn’t happen. He knew he’d have to give him something if he wanted Opie to stop pushing with his questions.

“Few weeks,” Jax told him. “I didn’t really talk to her for long, okay? I don’t know much.”

“But you wanna talk to her again,” Opie said, arching a brow back at Jax. “Don’t you?”

Yeah, he absolutely fucking did. He’d thought about it nonstop since he’d run into you, kicking himself mentally for not having asked for your number or something more than just getting your name. There was no realistic way for him to reach out to you, and he highly doubted you’d ever just show up at one of the clubhouse parties. 

“Course I do,” Jax muttered. 

Jax drew the cigarette back to his lips, taking another drag on it as he felt his frustration rising. As if he could read his thoughts, Opie continued.

“But you got no way to reach out to her,” he stated, his attention shifting away from Jax and down to his own cigarette. “Short of making a prospect tail her home from the hospital to find out where she lives and showing up on her doorstep, which I don’t advise, you’ve only got one option.”

With his brows furrowing together on his forehead, Jax focused on Opie beside him as he blew the trail of smoke from between his lips. Was Opie trying to tell him to do what he thought he was? Because even though Jax had considered it himself, he knew how pathetic and desperate it would look for him to actually go through with it.

“And what’s that?” Jax asked.

The corner of Opie’s lips curled up into a smile as he met Jax’s stare again. “Go back to the hospital, dumbass,” he replied. “You know she works there. You’re bound to run into her on a shift during the day. Just pull her aside for a minute, ask for her number.”

“Fuck no,” Jax spat, pulling a face at the thought. “We’re not in some goddamn chick flick, Ope. I’m not gonna go there and try to track her down just to get her number.”

Opie shrugged nonchalantly in response, that grin still on his face. “Then I guess you’ll just have to leave it to chance, brother,” he told him. “And hope that you get the opportunity again.”

Jax frowned at the idea of that. How long until he ran into you again in a situation in which he could actually talk to you? Days? Weeks? Months? He knew it shouldn’t even matter to him because it wasn’t like the clubhouse didn’t have its own fair share of pussy to go around. Who cared if he ran into you again or not? But you’d been steadily eating away at his goddamn mind for the past two days, making him feel like he was going insane. He didn’t know if he could go weeks or months just hoping for his chance to see you again.

“Go there and fucking do what, man?” he asked. 

“Shit, I don’t know,” Opie said with a chuckle, stretching his feet out on the bench of the picnic table. “Thought you were the one who was supposed to be smooth with the girls, Jax. Get her fucking number. Ask her out.”

“Ask her out?” Jax repeated skeptically, his eyes narrowing at him. “You want me to ask her out on a fucking date?”

“I don’t care what you do,” Opie answered, pointing his cigarette at Jax. “But it’s clear she’s not just some damn hookup for you, brother. You think fucking her again is gonna get her out of your head finally? Because the way you’re acting,” he continued, his expression entirely serious, “makes it seem like she might be there for another ten years if you do. And now here she is–” he said, gesturing his cigarette in the direction of the hospital from where they were at Teller-Morrow, “–right goddamn there. Within reach. So maybe pull your head outta your fucking ass and accept the fact that you might actually like a girl for once, Jax.”

Sitting there on the top of the picnic table, his cigarette hanging from between his lips, he let Opie’s words settle over him. He couldn’t really deny it, could he? There’d been something unexplainable there five years ago with you, something that had never left him. Maybe it was still there and maybe it wasn’t, but what the fuck would he ever know if he didn’t just suck it up and do something about it?

“Fine,” he relented, the cigarette still between his lips. “But I’m pretending I went there for another reason. Not gonna fuckin’ show up like it’s just for her.”

Opie huffed out a breath, shaking his head as his grin returned. “Girls love that romantic bullshit, Jax,” he replied. 

“I picked her up at a bar for a fuck,” Jax countered sharply. “Slipped out on her when she was asleep. Nothin’ romantic about that.”

Opie held Jax’s stare, that grin still stretched over his mouth. “You spent five years thinking about her, man,” he pointed out. “Sounds like some cheesy, chick flick bullshit to me.”

Jax pushed himself up from off the picnic table, turning around to crush his cigarette out in the ashtray beside Opie with a scoff. He was regretting ever telling him about you with all of the bullshit he knew he’d be dealing with now.

“Shut the fuck up and go check in with Bobby, asshole,” Jax ordered. “We’ve got some important shit to actually deal with right now.” 

Opie opened his mouth to say something more, but Jax raised a finger and shot him a look.

“Don’t even fucking say it,” he warned him. “We’ve got other things to focus on.”

[secretlysamcro]

You have inspired me to start writing down my own ideas for Jax.

Ughhh stop my actual heart 😭🥹 me an inspiration?? Putting it on my cv. This is so cute tho pls pls pls tag me when you do!!!!

[secretlysamcro]

Ohhh I’m a dumbass 🤦🏻‍♀️

I’m so caught up in wanting Reader and Jax together that I totally didn’t get that Tara’s trying to baby trap Jax (till I just read someone else say it) cause if she wants out why would she want another baby with him.

So now I’m worried for Reader, I don’t trust Tara or Unser and maybe I shouldn’t trust Gemma too.

But like how’d Tara find out?

Does Gemma know?

I know you can’t give anything away but can I get one thing… please, Are Readers feelings for Jax genuine?

So many questions, not many answers for you 🤭…YET.

(Love u really 🖤)

[secretlysamcro]

Love u bbygirl!!!!!! We’ll be having another Tig talk soon 🤣🫶🏽🖤ughhhhhh I woulda spat right with you!!!! & made those fresh air forces dirty as fuuuuck. 🤐🤭🖤

Part 3: The lost Boy | Series Masterlist.

Female reader x Jax Teller MAJOR SPOILERS!, & explicit language If you're under the age of 18, haven't finished the show or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Its been nearly three months since you saw or spoke to Jax.

Nearly three months since the night he showed up at your door looking like the world had finally swallowed him whole. "Opie's dead" he had told you, his voice hoarse as if speaking the words out loud made is so much more real. You pulled him in, let him fall apart quietly in your arms and held him long after his breathing had finally steadied, and his fists were no longer clenched. You stayed like that all night, his head resting on your thigh as your fingers moved gently through his hair, the silence between you louder than anything you'd ever known.

That night, it wasn't about the affair. It was about pain, about grief. It was about the parts of him that no one else got to see. And finally, when he got up to leave just before dawn, You didn't kiss, didn't touch like you usually would. He just looked at you for a moment too long, like he wanted to say something but didn't trust himself to say it.

And after that? nothing. No calls, no texts, no midnight visits. Nothing.

At first, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Grief can make people act strange. You told yourself he'd reach out when he could breathe again. So that's what you did. You gave him space, time to navigate through his chaos. But when weeks passed, then months, you started calling, messaging, you even drove past TM sometimes, desperate and ashamed, only to see him strolling across the lot, alive and fine acting as if nothing had changed. It took everything in your god damn soul not to blow this whole thing up. To stop yourself from pulling up into TM and letting everyone know exactly who the fuck you were. But Miss Petty? she'd gone into hiding. Because this, this was torture, this was your heart breaking into tiny pieces, with nothing and no one around to help you pick them up.

So you broke, not all at once, but slowly. You started drinking more, going out with people you didn't care about. Letting yourself get touched, kissed, taken, just to feel something that might pull you out of the ache. The men were forgettable. The sex was hollow and the mornings after were even worse. You should've learned from the last time you tried to get over Jax, letting another man touch you, hoping he'd feel something like he did. It didn't work then, and it sure as fuck isn't working now. So after a while, you stopped. Cut back on the drinking, cut the sex out completely. You were broken before and after your so called remedy, still fucking broken.

"Mornin' darlin" Jax murmurs as he steps into the kitchen, his voice smooth. He leans down and presses a kiss to Tara's cheek. "You sleep okay?" he asks, moving towards the counter, grabbing the coffee pot and filling his mug.

"I did" she replies lightly, slinging her ID badge around her neck, adjusting it just a little. "I've got to get going...early surgery"

Jax nods, setting his mug down "You want a coffee before you head out?" his fingers lingering over the second cup.

"No I'm good" she walks over, slow and composed, looking up at him with her soft eyes. "I love you Jackson" she says, with a hand over his heart.

"You too" he says, tucking a strand of her brown hair behind her ear his hands then trailing downwards until he's holding her by the arms then kisses her slowly. When he pulls away, he nods to the hallway "boys still asleep?"

"They had a late night last night, They'll be down for a while" she laughs, grabbing her keys off the hook and sliding out of the house in habit.

Jax stood in the kitchen long after the front door closed behind her. The sound of her heels fading towards her car, followed by the soft clink of it unlocking. He didn't move, just stood there, his coffee back in hand. When the engine finally rumbled to life and pulled down the street, he let out a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. A full bodied, desperate drag of oxygen like he'd been underwater for days and had finally broken the surface.

He braced his hands on the side, bowing his head. The boys were still sound asleep down the hall, the hum of the fridge the only other sound in the room. His ringed fingers now flexing over the ceramic, white knuckled like it gave him a lifeline.

It had been almost three months since he last saw you. He hadn't spoken to you since the night he showed up at your place, shattered over Opie. You'd opened the door without hesitation, no judgment. You let him cry. You let him breathe, and that was the last time.

Your calls? went unanswered.

Your texts? Deleted the second they lit up his phone.

Your voice notes? Sometimes he'd swiped them away without listening. Other times, if he had the chance to, he would play them just long enough to hear your voice tremble before he had to shut it off, unable to stand the sound of your pain coming through his speaker.

"Give me that fucking thing" your best friend Romy practically screeches as she yanks your phone out your hands. "No Jax, not tonight" she sighs, taking in the mess of your heartache. Her hands rub over the denim covering her thighs, a habit that always shows up when she's thinking too hard. Probably about the affair she once had with a handsome as fuck man called Colt. It ended badly, and that's exactly why she sympathises with you. She knows what this kind of pain feels like. And watching you beg a man just for a text back, whilst he acts as if you never even existed? That shit isn't just sad, its insulting.

"I wasn't gonna..." you start, trying to lie but cutting your words off with a half hearted laugh "Okay, I was" you admit, flopping your head back against the headrest. The takeout bag in your lap already growing cold. "I just don't get it" you mumble, confusion thick in your voice "I'm starting to think maybe she knows"

"Who knows what?" Romy asks, peering at you over the Cola cup, sucking on the straw as if her life depended on it.

"His wife" you say, spitting the word out like it tastes wrong. "I dont know how I just..."

"You think she saw you guys?" she asks, shifting in the drivers seat, both brows raised.

"No" you say quickly, assertive "We weren't stupid. We never did anything in public...unless you count the first time behind the diner. Or dangerous amount of times we gave eachother head in his van" you add with a dry laugh, your eyes drifting as if you were reliving the memories, but then your smile fades "I did go to the garage once, but..."

"The garage?" Romy cuts in, "As in the garage that's next door to the clubhouse?" Her expression sharpens, even she was surprised by your recklessness.

"Yeah..." you groan, rubbing your face, one of your individual lashes coming away with your hand. "But she wasn't there. And I was there for an oil change. I swear" you say, mentally retracing every step "Nah there's no way"

"Look y/n" she turns towards you. Pulling the pickle out of her burger and tossing it into your fries "I know this is the last thing you wanna hear, but I'm saying it anyway, because I love you. And because I've been exactly where you are"

She watches as you rest your elbow against the window, your fist digging into your chin, rolling your eyes like you've heard it all before, but she doesn't stop. "This was never gonna work out for you. He's a married man. With kids. You knew he wasn't gonna leave her. He told you that, you told me that's what he said...right?" she asks, making sure she's not rewriting anything in her head "Before he came to you about Opie, the time before that, after you had that big ass argument...he told you about the ties she has, how he was scared she'd take his boys away from him"

"His boys..." you echo, something shifting behind your eyes, your brain kicking into overdrive. "That's it. it has to be"

You reach between Romy's thighs, grabbing your phone back frantically "He wouldn't just cut me off like this. Not without saying it was over, not without something...This has to be about them, its the only thing that makes sense" you say, shaking your head as you begin typing again, another message, another shot in the dark.

Your bestie watches you, "So fucking stubborn you are" she sighs under her breath. When you don’t respond she adds softly "Why can't you just take this for what it is? the end...you're only gonna make it worse for yourself, please believe me when I say that" Her voice trembles just slightly, because she remembers what it felt like. The man she loved, the one who swore he needed her, ghosting like it was nothing and going back to his girlfriend like none of it ever happened.

“I’ll take it as the end” you mutter in defeat, eyes still staring at your phone screen “I just…I want to hear it from him”

Romy exhales beside you and the silence that follows is loud, so fucking loud. You can feel her stare, the way she’s biting her tongue to stop from saying what she’s already told you a hundred times.

“I’m not stupid” you speak “I’m not walking around blinded by the love I have for him…”

She doesn’t say anything just arches a brow, her glossed lips still around the nearly flat straw.

“…maybe just a little” you admit, forcing a half laugh that immediately dies in your throat. Tipping your head back against the seat, staring at the roof of the car like maybe the answers are written up there.

“How’d you do it?” You ask, quieter now “With Colt…How’d you get over him?”

She blinks, caught off guard before laughing, short and sharp, more breath than sound.

“Not sure if you’ve noticed babe but…” you finally look over to her “…I haven’t, not really” she sniffs nervously.

“I still think about him” she continues “Not every day, not anymore but sometimes I’ll see a car like his, or hear that dumb song he always played. And for a second, just a tiny fucking second, I’m right back there. Stupid and in love with someone who was never gonna be mine”

You don’t interrupt, but you know the feeling so fucking well.

“He promised me all the usual shit…” she says, brushing her thumb against her drink. “Said we’d get a place, maybe a dog, maybe a kid whatever version of forever he was selling. And I fucking bought it” her eyes begin to glass over, but she doesn’t let the tears fall, not this time.

“And then one day, he just vanished. Cut me off completely, just how Jax is doing now. Wouldn’t answer a single call or text. So I went to his place…” you already know the story, you heard it as soon as it happened. “…She opened the door. Pregnant, like big as shit pregnant. Made up some stupid excuse, said I’d got the wrong house or whatever it was. He’d still been telling me how much he loved me. How he was planning the breakup just had to figure out how and when to do it.”

She takes her eyes off you, staring ahead “whole time he was going back to his very pregnant girlfriend, who was none the fucking wiser. And that was the moment” her voice gets lower now, like she’s finally admitting something out loud “the first fucking time during that whole thing that I actually felt bad for her” she rolls her lips between her teeth “It made me question everything. Everything he ever said about her. About how cold she was, how they barely spoke. How she was just some controlling bitch who made him miserable” she shakes her head slowly “I don’t know if any of it was true, or if it was just easier to believe when I wanted to feel like the chosen one…drove by his house maybe a month or two later, she was outside holding their baby. He was walking to his car, with one of those baby seat chair things. He saw me, looked me dead in the eye, he didn’t even react…not even a flinch. It was like I was a stranger to him”

The car falls quiet again. Brushing crumbs from her fingers and reaching for the keys. You go to say something, but what the fuck could you even say? You lived through that heartbreak with her. You knew how badly It fucked her up, and still, you went and did the same fucking thing with Jax, who actually, was in an even more complicated situation.

“I just…” she exhales, almost a whisper “You don’t deserve this”

You don’t respond. You just look back down to your phone. The message you’d begun to type staring back at you. You read it once, then twice your thumb hovering over the screen. And then, slowly, word by word, you delete it all.

It was intimate, not rushed but not rough either. There was intention in every kiss, every breath and every deep grind of his hips. He kissed slowly, the kind that left no space between bodies or any doubt at all. And when he was close, when his breathing started to stutter, and his thighs started to shake, he moved to pull back, but hands trailed down to his waist, pulling him in closer, holding him there.

"Don't"

He doesn't answer. Not with words, just a flicker of something across his face, before he leans down again, kissing hard. Breaths begin to

tangle. Moans echoing into skin as fingers dug in, gripping tightly, like nothing had changed. Like this was right. Like this was home. The rhythm steady and unspoken, a language their bodies still knew. As if this was where he was meant to be.

Right here in this moment.

"I want another baby Jax" she whispers sweetly, the words a breath against his ear. Her hands sliding back down to the curve of his back, anchoring him in place holding him steady. She didn't let him move, she didn't want him to.

His eyes meet hers, just for a second. Then, without a word, he gave Tara exactly what she asked for.

The days and weeks that followed were heavy with mayhem. Between Pope's grip tightening around the clubs throat and the constant pressure of retaliations, business deals and figuring out alliances, Jax and his brothers had been in survival mode. Gun runs, cash drops and blood soaked stand offs. Everyone was running on adrenaline, short tempers and Jameson.

But Jax? he kept it moving. Always moving. Every plan, every decision fell on him. And he took it, carried it like he had to, like a man with no choice. To everyone looking in on the outside, he was steady, focused. A leader doing what needed to be done. But to his brothers and most of all his Mother, even if they didn't say much, the way he'd light cigarette after cigarette without touching his beer. How he would stare at nothing for too long, like he was trying to silence his thoughts. He wasn't sleeping much, that was obvious and when he was around, he wasn't really. And some of the decisions he was making? irrational, fuelled by rage. Most of them put it down to grief. Losing Opie, the last stable piece of his foundation. And maybe they were right but whatever else was eating away at him, that stayed buried, just as deep as his best friend.

"You okay baby?" Gemmas voice cuts through the air, casual but laced with suspicion. she's leant against the office doorway, arms crossed with that knowing gleam in her eyes.

Jax offers a quick shrug, playing it cool like he always does "Im good...just tired"

Gemma steps in a little further, her gaze drifting past him towards the lot. "You and Tara good?" she asks, her eyes doing all the talking.

"Yeah" he offers quickly "What made you ask that?" his chin tilts slightly.

"Just wonderin" she lifts a hand in the air waving to someone behind him. Jax turns just as Unser shuffles into view, giving them both that tired familiar smile

"Morning" he grunts. Gemma locking into conversation with him almost immediatly. She laughs at someting he says, swatting his arm playfully. Jax watching them both carefully, like he always did. Something in the way Wayne kept glancing his way made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. When Gemma took a step into the office to answer a call, Unser shifts his full attention to Jax.

"How's Tara?" he says casually, too casual.

His jaw swings side to side before answering, short and clipped. "She's fine"

Unser pauses then nods slowly before trailing in behind Gemma, like he was giving Jax a chance to elaborate, and when he didn't he gave Jax another look, not judgment or concern just...different. Jax stood there silent, wondering just how much the old man really knew.

It had been ages since he stepped foot up here. Not since the night of Opie’s wake. He remembered standing in this exact spot, looking down at the lot below, at the people gathered, their grief soaking between them. His head jolts, a fraction of movement with the memory creeping in like smoke. Tara, passing some kind of paperwork to Unser, then him slipping it into the inside pocket of his coat. Chibs had interrupted before jax could make sense of it. Before he found an excuse to disappear. Ending up at your door instead.

The air was always cooler on the roof. His shoes kicking at an old beer can that hadn’t moved since the last time he’d come up here, back when everything still felt fixable. He doesn’t sit right away, he just stands there, journal in one hand and his pen in the other.

The rooftop used to bring Jax a sense of clarity. A place to think, to breathe. But not tonight. Tonight, all it brought was ghosts. Memories of Ope came rushing in. Riding their first bikes down the street together, side by side without a care in the world. Getting patched in, running their first job. The dumb shit they used to get up to, laughing so hard they couldn’t even see straight. Bleeding for the club before they even understood what loyalty truly meant.

Jax huffs out a bitter laugh, running a hand down his face as he remembers more of their past. Splitting a bottle of whiskey and waking up with the same croweater, which at the time for them was a rite of passage. Being held at gunpoint together, but still fucking smiling. It was reckless, it was stupid, but it was theirs. Their youth. Their bond.

Then, without warning his memories ran to you. It started with the first time you met, that eerie time of midnight. He’d walked in by chance, still pissed from yet another argument with Tara. Over what? He couldn’t even remember now. He’d gone for a ride to clear his head, like he always did and ended up there. No plans, no expectations. So he didn’t plan for some stranger sliding into the booth across from him with that bold fucking smile and warm eyes. And what he really didn’t expect, was how that same stranger would be the reason he kept coming back. Night after night, drawn in like gravity. Until it wasn’t just coffee and conversation anymore.

Eventually, he sinks down slow, like his body carried weight it wasn’t built for anymore. The pen hovers over the empty page, unmoving as if even trying to write his thoughts demanded more attention he was capable of. When he finally touched the pen to the paper, it was sluggish.

He stopped writing after a short moment, his fingers tense around the pen as he looks up to scan the skyline of charming. The place he grew up, the streets he and his club bleed for. But today, it didn’t feel like home. His bottom lip begins to quiver, not dramatically, not at all, just enough for only him to notice.

Something about the way Romy spoke to you that night finally fucking clicked. It wasn’t like she was saying anything she hadn’t said before, but this time, it landed. Because as much as you loved him, and as much as he claimed he loved you. You didn’t deserve this.

So you stopped. You stopped the late night texts, the calls that forever went unanswered. You chucked out anything that reminded you of him. The bottle of Jameson he liked? Poured down the sink. Your favourite bedsheets, the ones that still smelt like him, ripped off your bed and shoved in the bin. And right of top of them? One of his hoodies he left behind, the one you used to wear practically every night. Gone. The lot of it.

You finally stepped back and started figuring out who the fuck you were again. Without him, without the half truths and empty promises. Of course you weren’t over him. Not even close, but doing those little things, it helped. And for the first time in a long time…you were starting to feel like maybe, you could live without him.

Romy had done whatever she could to be there for you. Just like you had always done for her. She wasn't mad that you were still up on Jax, she understood it more than anyone. She just wanted to shield you from that kind of pain. And now, you were finally starting to seem okay again.

"Alright are we thinking, calm collective girls night?" she asks with that usual sarcasm "Or one of our infamous karaoke disasters where we end up singing TLC at 2am, crying over our life choices"

You laugh on the other end, and it warms her chest. A sound she's missed. "I'm just pulling into the gas station, gonna grab a few bits" she adds, one hand on the wheel as she slides into an empty space. The bluetooth disconnecting as the car powers down. She mumbles her shopping list to herself as she climbs out, completely missing the row of bikes lined up neatly out front.

"And a pack of smokes darlin"

She froze at the entrance, her pulse quickening. He had his back towards her, but she didn't need to see his face. The voice was enough, and then their was his fucking emblem spread across his back. She wanted to let loose on him, give him what he fucking deserved, but she composed herself, manoeuvring strategically around the place. There were two other guys in the back by the slushie machines, both of them too, wearing their pride on their backs. She grabbed what she needed, forgetting most things, before rushing to the counter, fumbling with her card and muttering a sharp "thanks" before storming out.

Jax had already stepped out of the shop, leaving the other two to screw around inside. He stood by his bike, hands casually dipping into the pack of smokes he'd just bought. The afternoon sun casting a long shadow across the concrete, and for a second everything felt still. Until he looked up.

He never noticed her when she walked in, but he sure as hell saw her now. The flicker of recognition flared in his eyes. He'd only met her once, if that's what you could call it, ages ago, eating cereal in your kitchen when he used the spare key, walking in like he lived there. She clocked him instantly, his face unreadable, but the eye contact between the two, fucking loud. Romy tried, she really tried to keep walking, but the weight of everything you'd been through, everything he'd put you through, the restraint she had? yeah, out the fucking window.

"You're a fucking asshole" she hisses at him, shaking with fury. His shoulders shift but he doesn't say anything.

"I mean it...You're a fucking coward. Disappearing on her like that" she continues, stepping towards him barely able to hold the things in her hand along with her composure. "You should have been man enough to fucking say something. Anything. Instead you’re being fucking selfish. Ghosting her like some high school dipshit" she pauses, waiting for him to respond, and when he just takes a slow deliberate breath, she keeps going. "She still fucking cries for you, you know? stares at her phone like maybe someday you'll come crawling back like the cunt you are"

That last insult, that hit a nerve. Jax could take being called a dipshit. Could even swallow down the coward shit, the selfish shit because deep down, he knew he deserved it. But the second the word 'cunt' left Romy's mouth, something in his jaw switched. His mouth twisted into something harsher, teeth clenched and his lips curled back like he was ready to bite. It pissed him off. Not because she was wrong, because she wasn't but because the part of him that still cared hated hearing the truth in someone else's voice.

He doesn't lash out though, doesn't raise his voice, just internally calms himself down, pushing the image of you crying alone at home, waiting by the phone out of his head. Then, he walks closer to Romy and in that same cold, calm voice "Tell her to forget about me. Tell her none of it meant anything."

She blinks, the words hanging heavy in the small space between them. She looks him up and down before scoffing "You don't mean that"

"Yes I do" he lies, so smoothly it almost sounds real. But his fists were clenched in his pocket, tight enough to leave marks in his palms. And it took everything not to scream. Not to cave and tell her how much he missed you, how much he needs you. But he didn't. Because he couldn’t.

Romy stared at him, stunned into silence for the first time in months. Not because she believed him, but because she couldn't believe how far gone he really was. Heat began to creep up her neck, her throat burning with rage she had no energy to spit out. And then, she continued walking, shaking her head in the process. Promising herself right then and there, she'd tell you exactly what he said, and exactly how he said it. Because no matter how much it hurt, you deserved the truth.

The house was quiet when he stepped inside, it was later than it should’ve been, but he couldn’t give a shit. His head was a mess, his shoulders heavy and the taste of Romys truth still lingering in his thoughts.

The kitchen light was still on, and he had eyes on Tara before she even looked up, standing by the counter, half a glass of red wine cradled between her fingers.

“You’re drinking?” He asks, stepping in and hanging his kutte of a chair. “Thought you wanted…”

“I took a test” she says, before he could finish his sentence “was negative” she didn’t sound too upset, just resigned. As she took another sip of her wine, not making eye contact with him.

As she said the words, he paused. Eyes flicking down to her glass, then to her, his jaw clenching for just a second. Relief blooming in his chest so suddenly he had to steady himself. He masks it well but inside, he couldn’t be more content. He moves around the kitchen calm and focused, typing something quickly on his phone before placing it face down on the counter beside her. “Gonna go shower” he spoke the words quietly.

She watches him go, silence trailing behind him. Then with a sigh, she downs the rest of her wine in one slow gulp. Just as she was heading towards the living room, Jax’s phone buzzed against the counter. She turned her head fast, eyes narrowing on the unknown number in bold white across the screen. She stares for a second too long, without thinking she grabs the phone.

“Hello?” She says sharply, moving towards the back door the phone pressed tightly against her ear.

“You’re seriously calling him now? When he’s just got home to his wife and kids” she lets out a disbelieving laugh, venom slipping between each word. “He doesn’t belong to you, he never has”

*photos & gifs do not belong to me. Only the texts, divider & journal entry.

Ok so first of all, HUGE fucking thanks to my girlie @puffins-muffins who put up with my excessive messages, rambling, blablabla’s & jumbled screenshots. For listening to my forever changing ideas & actually giving me the motivation to write these next additions 😉 love uuuuuuuu 🫶🏽🖤

JAX TELLER MASTERLIST

xoxo secretly samcro

[secretlysamcro]

Ahhhh!!!!! I’m so happy you loved. & right? Romy really is that fucking girl. 🫶🏽 all I’m saying is there’s definitely 1, possibly 2 more parts before the absolute end, so we will see soon how shit turns out 🤭🫶🏽🖤

Part 3: The lost Boy | Series Masterlist.

Female reader x Jax Teller MAJOR SPOILERS!, & explicit language If you're under the age of 18, haven't finished the show or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Its been nearly three months since you saw or spoke to Jax.

Nearly three months since the night he showed up at your door looking like the world had finally swallowed him whole. "Opie's dead" he had told you, his voice hoarse as if speaking the words out loud made is so much more real. You pulled him in, let him fall apart quietly in your arms and held him long after his breathing had finally steadied, and his fists were no longer clenched. You stayed like that all night, his head resting on your thigh as your fingers moved gently through his hair, the silence between you louder than anything you'd ever known.

That night, it wasn't about the affair. It was about pain, about grief. It was about the parts of him that no one else got to see. And finally, when he got up to leave just before dawn, You didn't kiss, didn't touch like you usually would. He just looked at you for a moment too long, like he wanted to say something but didn't trust himself to say it.

And after that? nothing. No calls, no texts, no midnight visits. Nothing.

At first, you tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Grief can make people act strange. You told yourself he'd reach out when he could breathe again. So that's what you did. You gave him space, time to navigate through his chaos. But when weeks passed, then months, you started calling, messaging, you even drove past TM sometimes, desperate and ashamed, only to see him strolling across the lot, alive and fine acting as if nothing had changed. It took everything in your god damn soul not to blow this whole thing up. To stop yourself from pulling up into TM and letting everyone know exactly who the fuck you were. But Miss Petty? she'd gone into hiding. Because this, this was torture, this was your heart breaking into tiny pieces, with nothing and no one around to help you pick them up.

So you broke, not all at once, but slowly. You started drinking more, going out with people you didn't care about. Letting yourself get touched, kissed, taken, just to feel something that might pull you out of the ache. The men were forgettable. The sex was hollow and the mornings after were even worse. You should've learned from the last time you tried to get over Jax, letting another man touch you, hoping he'd feel something like he did. It didn't work then, and it sure as fuck isn't working now. So after a while, you stopped. Cut back on the drinking, cut the sex out completely. You were broken before and after your so called remedy, still fucking broken.

"Mornin' darlin" Jax murmurs as he steps into the kitchen, his voice smooth. He leans down and presses a kiss to Tara's cheek. "You sleep okay?" he asks, moving towards the counter, grabbing the coffee pot and filling his mug.

"I did" she replies lightly, slinging her ID badge around her neck, adjusting it just a little. "I've got to get going...early surgery"

Jax nods, setting his mug down "You want a coffee before you head out?" his fingers lingering over the second cup.

"No I'm good" she walks over, slow and composed, looking up at him with her soft eyes. "I love you Jackson" she says, with a hand over his heart.

"You too" he says, tucking a strand of her brown hair behind her ear his hands then trailing downwards until he's holding her by the arms then kisses her slowly. When he pulls away, he nods to the hallway "boys still asleep?"

"They had a late night last night, They'll be down for a while" she laughs, grabbing her keys off the hook and sliding out of the house in habit.

Jax stood in the kitchen long after the front door closed behind her. The sound of her heels fading towards her car, followed by the soft clink of it unlocking. He didn't move, just stood there, his coffee back in hand. When the engine finally rumbled to life and pulled down the street, he let out a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding. A full bodied, desperate drag of oxygen like he'd been underwater for days and had finally broken the surface.

He braced his hands on the side, bowing his head. The boys were still sound asleep down the hall, the hum of the fridge the only other sound in the room. His ringed fingers now flexing over the ceramic, white knuckled like it gave him a lifeline.

It had been almost three months since he last saw you. He hadn't spoken to you since the night he showed up at your place, shattered over Opie. You'd opened the door without hesitation, no judgment. You let him cry. You let him breathe, and that was the last time.

Your calls? went unanswered.

Your texts? Deleted the second they lit up his phone.

Your voice notes? Sometimes he'd swiped them away without listening. Other times, if he had the chance to, he would play them just long enough to hear your voice tremble before he had to shut it off, unable to stand the sound of your pain coming through his speaker.

"Give me that fucking thing" your best friend Romy practically screeches as she yanks your phone out your hands. "No Jax, not tonight" she sighs, taking in the mess of your heartache. Her hands rub over the denim covering her thighs, a habit that always shows up when she's thinking too hard. Probably about the affair she once had with a handsome as fuck man called Colt. It ended badly, and that's exactly why she sympathises with you. She knows what this kind of pain feels like. And watching you beg a man just for a text back, whilst he acts as if you never even existed? That shit isn't just sad, its insulting.

"I wasn't gonna..." you start, trying to lie but cutting your words off with a half hearted laugh "Okay, I was" you admit, flopping your head back against the headrest. The takeout bag in your lap already growing cold. "I just don't get it" you mumble, confusion thick in your voice "I'm starting to think maybe she knows"

"Who knows what?" Romy asks, peering at you over the Cola cup, sucking on the straw as if her life depended on it.

"His wife" you say, spitting the word out like it tastes wrong. "I dont know how I just..."

"You think she saw you guys?" she asks, shifting in the drivers seat, both brows raised.

"No" you say quickly, assertive "We weren't stupid. We never did anything in public...unless you count the first time behind the diner. Or dangerous amount of times we gave eachother head in his van" you add with a dry laugh, your eyes drifting as if you were reliving the memories, but then your smile fades "I did go to the garage once, but..."

"The garage?" Romy cuts in, "As in the garage that's next door to the clubhouse?" Her expression sharpens, even she was surprised by your recklessness.

"Yeah..." you groan, rubbing your face, one of your individual lashes coming away with your hand. "But she wasn't there. And I was there for an oil change. I swear" you say, mentally retracing every step "Nah there's no way"

"Look y/n" she turns towards you. Pulling the pickle out of her burger and tossing it into your fries "I know this is the last thing you wanna hear, but I'm saying it anyway, because I love you. And because I've been exactly where you are"

She watches as you rest your elbow against the window, your fist digging into your chin, rolling your eyes like you've heard it all before, but she doesn't stop. "This was never gonna work out for you. He's a married man. With kids. You knew he wasn't gonna leave her. He told you that, you told me that's what he said...right?" she asks, making sure she's not rewriting anything in her head "Before he came to you about Opie, the time before that, after you had that big ass argument...he told you about the ties she has, how he was scared she'd take his boys away from him"

"His boys..." you echo, something shifting behind your eyes, your brain kicking into overdrive. "That's it. it has to be"

You reach between Romy's thighs, grabbing your phone back frantically "He wouldn't just cut me off like this. Not without saying it was over, not without something...This has to be about them, its the only thing that makes sense" you say, shaking your head as you begin typing again, another message, another shot in the dark.

Your bestie watches you, "So fucking stubborn you are" she sighs under her breath. When you don’t respond she adds softly "Why can't you just take this for what it is? the end...you're only gonna make it worse for yourself, please believe me when I say that" Her voice trembles just slightly, because she remembers what it felt like. The man she loved, the one who swore he needed her, ghosting like it was nothing and going back to his girlfriend like none of it ever happened.

“I’ll take it as the end” you mutter in defeat, eyes still staring at your phone screen “I just…I want to hear it from him”

Romy exhales beside you and the silence that follows is loud, so fucking loud. You can feel her stare, the way she’s biting her tongue to stop from saying what she’s already told you a hundred times.

“I’m not stupid” you speak “I’m not walking around blinded by the love I have for him…”

She doesn’t say anything just arches a brow, her glossed lips still around the nearly flat straw.

“…maybe just a little” you admit, forcing a half laugh that immediately dies in your throat. Tipping your head back against the seat, staring at the roof of the car like maybe the answers are written up there.

“How’d you do it?” You ask, quieter now “With Colt…How’d you get over him?”

She blinks, caught off guard before laughing, short and sharp, more breath than sound.

“Not sure if you’ve noticed babe but…” you finally look over to her “…I haven’t, not really” she sniffs nervously.

“I still think about him” she continues “Not every day, not anymore but sometimes I’ll see a car like his, or hear that dumb song he always played. And for a second, just a tiny fucking second, I’m right back there. Stupid and in love with someone who was never gonna be mine”

You don’t interrupt, but you know the feeling so fucking well.

“He promised me all the usual shit…” she says, brushing her thumb against her drink. “Said we’d get a place, maybe a dog, maybe a kid whatever version of forever he was selling. And I fucking bought it” her eyes begin to glass over, but she doesn’t let the tears fall, not this time.

“And then one day, he just vanished. Cut me off completely, just how Jax is doing now. Wouldn’t answer a single call or text. So I went to his place…” you already know the story, you heard it as soon as it happened. “…She opened the door. Pregnant, like big as shit pregnant. Made up some stupid excuse, said I’d got the wrong house or whatever it was. He’d still been telling me how much he loved me. How he was planning the breakup just had to figure out how and when to do it.”

She takes her eyes off you, staring ahead “whole time he was going back to his very pregnant girlfriend, who was none the fucking wiser. And that was the moment” her voice gets lower now, like she’s finally admitting something out loud “the first fucking time during that whole thing that I actually felt bad for her” she rolls her lips between her teeth “It made me question everything. Everything he ever said about her. About how cold she was, how they barely spoke. How she was just some controlling bitch who made him miserable” she shakes her head slowly “I don’t know if any of it was true, or if it was just easier to believe when I wanted to feel like the chosen one…drove by his house maybe a month or two later, she was outside holding their baby. He was walking to his car, with one of those baby seat chair things. He saw me, looked me dead in the eye, he didn’t even react…not even a flinch. It was like I was a stranger to him”

The car falls quiet again. Brushing crumbs from her fingers and reaching for the keys. You go to say something, but what the fuck could you even say? You lived through that heartbreak with her. You knew how badly It fucked her up, and still, you went and did the same fucking thing with Jax, who actually, was in an even more complicated situation.

“I just…” she exhales, almost a whisper “You don’t deserve this”

You don’t respond. You just look back down to your phone. The message you’d begun to type staring back at you. You read it once, then twice your thumb hovering over the screen. And then, slowly, word by word, you delete it all.

It was intimate, not rushed but not rough either. There was intention in every kiss, every breath and every deep grind of his hips. He kissed slowly, the kind that left no space between bodies or any doubt at all. And when he was close, when his breathing started to stutter, and his thighs started to shake, he moved to pull back, but hands trailed down to his waist, pulling him in closer, holding him there.

"Don't"

He doesn't answer. Not with words, just a flicker of something across his face, before he leans down again, kissing hard. Breaths begin to

tangle. Moans echoing into skin as fingers dug in, gripping tightly, like nothing had changed. Like this was right. Like this was home. The rhythm steady and unspoken, a language their bodies still knew. As if this was where he was meant to be.

Right here in this moment.

"I want another baby Jax" she whispers sweetly, the words a breath against his ear. Her hands sliding back down to the curve of his back, anchoring him in place holding him steady. She didn't let him move, she didn't want him to.

His eyes meet hers, just for a second. Then, without a word, he gave Tara exactly what she asked for.

The days and weeks that followed were heavy with mayhem. Between Pope's grip tightening around the clubs throat and the constant pressure of retaliations, business deals and figuring out alliances, Jax and his brothers had been in survival mode. Gun runs, cash drops and blood soaked stand offs. Everyone was running on adrenaline, short tempers and Jameson.

But Jax? he kept it moving. Always moving. Every plan, every decision fell on him. And he took it, carried it like he had to, like a man with no choice. To everyone looking in on the outside, he was steady, focused. A leader doing what needed to be done. But to his brothers and most of all his Mother, even if they didn't say much, the way he'd light cigarette after cigarette without touching his beer. How he would stare at nothing for too long, like he was trying to silence his thoughts. He wasn't sleeping much, that was obvious and when he was around, he wasn't really. And some of the decisions he was making? irrational, fuelled by rage. Most of them put it down to grief. Losing Opie, the last stable piece of his foundation. And maybe they were right but whatever else was eating away at him, that stayed buried, just as deep as his best friend.

"You okay baby?" Gemmas voice cuts through the air, casual but laced with suspicion. she's leant against the office doorway, arms crossed with that knowing gleam in her eyes.

Jax offers a quick shrug, playing it cool like he always does "Im good...just tired"

Gemma steps in a little further, her gaze drifting past him towards the lot. "You and Tara good?" she asks, her eyes doing all the talking.

"Yeah" he offers quickly "What made you ask that?" his chin tilts slightly.

"Just wonderin" she lifts a hand in the air waving to someone behind him. Jax turns just as Unser shuffles into view, giving them both that tired familiar smile

"Morning" he grunts. Gemma locking into conversation with him almost immediatly. She laughs at someting he says, swatting his arm playfully. Jax watching them both carefully, like he always did. Something in the way Wayne kept glancing his way made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. When Gemma took a step into the office to answer a call, Unser shifts his full attention to Jax.

"How's Tara?" he says casually, too casual.

His jaw swings side to side before answering, short and clipped. "She's fine"

Unser pauses then nods slowly before trailing in behind Gemma, like he was giving Jax a chance to elaborate, and when he didn't he gave Jax another look, not judgment or concern just...different. Jax stood there silent, wondering just how much the old man really knew.

It had been ages since he stepped foot up here. Not since the night of Opie’s wake. He remembered standing in this exact spot, looking down at the lot below, at the people gathered, their grief soaking between them. His head jolts, a fraction of movement with the memory creeping in like smoke. Tara, passing some kind of paperwork to Unser, then him slipping it into the inside pocket of his coat. Chibs had interrupted before jax could make sense of it. Before he found an excuse to disappear. Ending up at your door instead.

The air was always cooler on the roof. His shoes kicking at an old beer can that hadn’t moved since the last time he’d come up here, back when everything still felt fixable. He doesn’t sit right away, he just stands there, journal in one hand and his pen in the other.

The rooftop used to bring Jax a sense of clarity. A place to think, to breathe. But not tonight. Tonight, all it brought was ghosts. Memories of Ope came rushing in. Riding their first bikes down the street together, side by side without a care in the world. Getting patched in, running their first job. The dumb shit they used to get up to, laughing so hard they couldn’t even see straight. Bleeding for the club before they even understood what loyalty truly meant.

Jax huffs out a bitter laugh, running a hand down his face as he remembers more of their past. Splitting a bottle of whiskey and waking up with the same croweater, which at the time for them was a rite of passage. Being held at gunpoint together, but still fucking smiling. It was reckless, it was stupid, but it was theirs. Their youth. Their bond.

Then, without warning his memories ran to you. It started with the first time you met, that eerie time of midnight. He’d walked in by chance, still pissed from yet another argument with Tara. Over what? He couldn’t even remember now. He’d gone for a ride to clear his head, like he always did and ended up there. No plans, no expectations. So he didn’t plan for some stranger sliding into the booth across from him with that bold fucking smile and warm eyes. And what he really didn’t expect, was how that same stranger would be the reason he kept coming back. Night after night, drawn in like gravity. Until it wasn’t just coffee and conversation anymore.

Eventually, he sinks down slow, like his body carried weight it wasn’t built for anymore. The pen hovers over the empty page, unmoving as if even trying to write his thoughts demanded more attention he was capable of. When he finally touched the pen to the paper, it was sluggish.

He stopped writing after a short moment, his fingers tense around the pen as he looks up to scan the skyline of charming. The place he grew up, the streets he and his club bleed for. But today, it didn’t feel like home. His bottom lip begins to quiver, not dramatically, not at all, just enough for only him to notice.

Something about the way Romy spoke to you that night finally fucking clicked. It wasn’t like she was saying anything she hadn’t said before, but this time, it landed. Because as much as you loved him, and as much as he claimed he loved you. You didn’t deserve this.

So you stopped. You stopped the late night texts, the calls that forever went unanswered. You chucked out anything that reminded you of him. The bottle of Jameson he liked? Poured down the sink. Your favourite bedsheets, the ones that still smelt like him, ripped off your bed and shoved in the bin. And right of top of them? One of his hoodies he left behind, the one you used to wear practically every night. Gone. The lot of it.

You finally stepped back and started figuring out who the fuck you were again. Without him, without the half truths and empty promises. Of course you weren’t over him. Not even close, but doing those little things, it helped. And for the first time in a long time…you were starting to feel like maybe, you could live without him.

Romy had done whatever she could to be there for you. Just like you had always done for her. She wasn't mad that you were still up on Jax, she understood it more than anyone. She just wanted to shield you from that kind of pain. And now, you were finally starting to seem okay again.

"Alright are we thinking, calm collective girls night?" she asks with that usual sarcasm "Or one of our infamous karaoke disasters where we end up singing TLC at 2am, crying over our life choices"

You laugh on the other end, and it warms her chest. A sound she's missed. "I'm just pulling into the gas station, gonna grab a few bits" she adds, one hand on the wheel as she slides into an empty space. The bluetooth disconnecting as the car powers down. She mumbles her shopping list to herself as she climbs out, completely missing the row of bikes lined up neatly out front.

"And a pack of smokes darlin"

She froze at the entrance, her pulse quickening. He had his back towards her, but she didn't need to see his face. The voice was enough, and then their was his fucking emblem spread across his back. She wanted to let loose on him, give him what he fucking deserved, but she composed herself, manoeuvring strategically around the place. There were two other guys in the back by the slushie machines, both of them too, wearing their pride on their backs. She grabbed what she needed, forgetting most things, before rushing to the counter, fumbling with her card and muttering a sharp "thanks" before storming out.

Jax had already stepped out of the shop, leaving the other two to screw around inside. He stood by his bike, hands casually dipping into the pack of smokes he'd just bought. The afternoon sun casting a long shadow across the concrete, and for a second everything felt still. Until he looked up.

He never noticed her when she walked in, but he sure as hell saw her now. The flicker of recognition flared in his eyes. He'd only met her once, if that's what you could call it, ages ago, eating cereal in your kitchen when he used the spare key, walking in like he lived there. She clocked him instantly, his face unreadable, but the eye contact between the two, fucking loud. Romy tried, she really tried to keep walking, but the weight of everything you'd been through, everything he'd put you through, the restraint she had? yeah, out the fucking window.

"You're a fucking asshole" she hisses at him, shaking with fury. His shoulders shift but he doesn't say anything.

"I mean it...You're a fucking coward. Disappearing on her like that" she continues, stepping towards him barely able to hold the things in her hand along with her composure. "You should have been man enough to fucking say something. Anything. Instead you’re being fucking selfish. Ghosting her like some high school dipshit" she pauses, waiting for him to respond, and when he just takes a slow deliberate breath, she keeps going. "She still fucking cries for you, you know? stares at her phone like maybe someday you'll come crawling back like the cunt you are"

That last insult, that hit a nerve. Jax could take being called a dipshit. Could even swallow down the coward shit, the selfish shit because deep down, he knew he deserved it. But the second the word 'cunt' left Romy's mouth, something in his jaw switched. His mouth twisted into something harsher, teeth clenched and his lips curled back like he was ready to bite. It pissed him off. Not because she was wrong, because she wasn't but because the part of him that still cared hated hearing the truth in someone else's voice.

He doesn't lash out though, doesn't raise his voice, just internally calms himself down, pushing the image of you crying alone at home, waiting by the phone out of his head. Then, he walks closer to Romy and in that same cold, calm voice "Tell her to forget about me. Tell her none of it meant anything."

She blinks, the words hanging heavy in the small space between them. She looks him up and down before scoffing "You don't mean that"

"Yes I do" he lies, so smoothly it almost sounds real. But his fists were clenched in his pocket, tight enough to leave marks in his palms. And it took everything not to scream. Not to cave and tell her how much he missed you, how much he needs you. But he didn't. Because he couldn’t.

Romy stared at him, stunned into silence for the first time in months. Not because she believed him, but because she couldn't believe how far gone he really was. Heat began to creep up her neck, her throat burning with rage she had no energy to spit out. And then, she continued walking, shaking her head in the process. Promising herself right then and there, she'd tell you exactly what he said, and exactly how he said it. Because no matter how much it hurt, you deserved the truth.

The house was quiet when he stepped inside, it was later than it should’ve been, but he couldn’t give a shit. His head was a mess, his shoulders heavy and the taste of Romys truth still lingering in his thoughts.

The kitchen light was still on, and he had eyes on Tara before she even looked up, standing by the counter, half a glass of red wine cradled between her fingers.

“You’re drinking?” He asks, stepping in and hanging his kutte of a chair. “Thought you wanted…”

“I took a test” she says, before he could finish his sentence “was negative” she didn’t sound too upset, just resigned. As she took another sip of her wine, not making eye contact with him.

As she said the words, he paused. Eyes flicking down to her glass, then to her, his jaw clenching for just a second. Relief blooming in his chest so suddenly he had to steady himself. He masks it well but inside, he couldn’t be more content. He moves around the kitchen calm and focused, typing something quickly on his phone before placing it face down on the counter beside her. “Gonna go shower” he spoke the words quietly.

She watches him go, silence trailing behind him. Then with a sigh, she downs the rest of her wine in one slow gulp. Just as she was heading towards the living room, Jax’s phone buzzed against the counter. She turned her head fast, eyes narrowing on the unknown number in bold white across the screen. She stares for a second too long, without thinking she grabs the phone.

“Hello?” She says sharply, moving towards the back door the phone pressed tightly against her ear.

“You’re seriously calling him now? When he’s just got home to his wife and kids” she lets out a disbelieving laugh, venom slipping between each word. “He doesn’t belong to you, he never has”

*photos & gifs do not belong to me. Only the texts, divider & journal entry.

Ok so first of all, HUGE fucking thanks to my girlie @puffins-muffins who put up with my excessive messages, rambling, blablabla’s & jumbled screenshots. For listening to my forever changing ideas & actually giving me the motivation to write these next additions 😉 love uuuuuuuu 🫶🏽🖤

JAX TELLER MASTERLIST

xoxo secretly samcro

[secretlysamcro]

Thank you so much for Till It’s Gone update.

I don’t want to be pushy but is there any chance of something new and smutty for these two?

You are very welcome! & yes there will be soon hehe. Got a lil juicy extra coming 🤭🫠