#Sons of Anarchy Fanfic

[tumbleweed-writes]

Fight For What You Want: Chibs Telford X Reader

When Chibs Telford overhears the woman he's been unwilling to make a move on has a first date lined up, will he be willing to fight for her? When Y/N's first date turns into the first date from hell will Chibs Telford's efforts to protect her be enough to turn the night around?

Part one of two.

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Chibs Telford had never been one to eavesdrop. He knew well enough in the world he’d chosen to operate in that listening in on private conversations could only lead to trouble and could even be deadly. So, when he was well aware that there was a conversation that he had no business listening in on he was quick to disappear and mind his own business. 

He wished he’d thought to mind his own business as he approached the door to the office at TM Auto. His feet remained locked in place though as he heard her voice.

“Are you 100 percent sure you’re okay with me dipping out a little early today, Gem?” 

Gemma was fast to respond to the inquiry. It was clear by the tone of her voice she’d been asked this at least a dozen times today and there was a slight hint of amusement to her voice. “Yes, Y/N. I’m sure we can function even if you leave a little early today.”

Y/N let out a soft sigh, a nervous chuckle leaving her lips. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry I keep asking. I think I’m just feeling a little anxious, pre-date jitters I guess.”

Chibs felt his heart sink down into his belly upon hearing the words Pre-date jitters.

Although everything in his heart and soul was screeching at him to walk away before his heart had a chance to sink even lower, his body remained locked in place as he continued to listen in on the conversation.

Gemma was quick to speak, calling Y/N out on her comment. “Not butterflies?”

“Pardon?” Was the reply she earned Y/N’s voice raising a pitch it clear by her tone ovf voice that she was unnerved by the comment.

Gemma was fast to speak again not backing down with her observation. “Just jitters, not butterflies.”

This comment earned a small nervous laugh from Y/N as she replied. “I don’t know what you mean by that. Aren’t jitters and butterflies the same?”

Gemma spoke up, clearly not letting this go even with Y/N’s attempts to laugh off the reasoning behind the questioning. “I’m just surprised that’s all, Sweetheart. You don’t seem excited about this. To be honest, I wasn’t expecting you to have any first dates, at least not with him.”

Y/N Winston let out a heavy sigh at the words apparently already well versed in this conversation. “I’m accepting a date from the guy who will actually ask me out. I’m sick of waiting around for the guy I want to ask me out. I’ve accepted it’s not going to happen”

“That’s because you won’t force it to happen.” Gemma was fast to point out it only earning her a huff from Y/N.

“I shouldn’t have to force it, that’s the problem. It’s pretty obvious he’s not forcing it on his end. I’ve realized that he’s just going to keep dancing around me. I refuse to be the one who asks him out at this point. I’m not chasing a man. I should not have to chase him down. I refuse to chase him down and force things. I just have to accept that it’s not happening. He’s made it clear he’s not as into me as I am into him. I am realizing he’s not going to ever make a move and like I said, I’m not doing it for him. I got my hopes up, which was a dumb move on my end…I mean,  I guess I shouldn’t be shocked that he’s just sitting on his ass not making any moves to show me this is more than flirting and hints that he might want me. I should have known how this was going to turn out from the start. I mean, pretty sure most guys around here have been sworn off even looking twice at me. So, why should he be any different? Maybe it’s time I just go for a normal guy outside of this entire SAMCRO circle.”

“I’m not sure that’s entirely the truth, Y/N. I mean, I am sure your uncle and cousin have something to do with his hesitancy. You have to understand though that this has gotta be complicated for him. It’s been a while since he’s pursued anything with anyone, at least anything more than a quick fuck from a croweater.” Gemma was quick to provide, trying her best to soothe Y/N’s apparent angst.

Chibs furrowed his brow wracking his brain over who this mystery guy who was dancing around Y/N could possibly be. He’d not noticed anyone paying her more mind than what seemed to be appropriate.

He furrowed his brow all the more realizing it was someone within their inner circle. He searched his brain thinking of each one of his brothers searching for the possible culprit ignoring the way it made bile rise in his throat to think of any one he shared a kutte with harboring romantic feelings for Y/N.

He widened his eyes the truth hitting him like a freight train as Y/N spoke a huff leaving her. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know. Estranged wife…or whatever is going on there and a kid in Belfast. I’ve heard all about the baggage. Trust me, he’s told me about his past. He opened up to me about it all over a shared joint and some whiskey. I’ve heard the entire story. I get it, it’s complicated for him. I am done making excuses for him though. I mean, either he likes me and wants to ask me on an actual date, or I’m just a friend. I can’t have it both ways, Gem. It’s not fair for him to want it both ways. I get that he’s maybe rusty at this whole dating thing, but either he wants me or he doesn’t. He hits on me and is all too happy to flirt with me, but any chance he’s had to take it to the next level has been squandered by him. He clearly isn’t going to pick if he wants me as a friend or a romantic partner. So, I’m picking for him. He’s just going to have to stay my friend.”

She paused a shaky sigh leaving her lips a bitter laugh following the sigh. “I was a fool to think that there’s something more he wants from me. I thought he was sending me all the signals that he saw me as something more than the club’s kid sister.  I mean he’s taken me on a dozen bike rides and there've been shared joints and a ton of private talks on the roof of TM or outside at a Friday night party where it’s just us…conversations got deep and I felt like we connected. There have been so many moments where I hoped that he might actually make some kind of move, but like I said, it’s clear that he’s just not as into me as I am into him. I got my hopes up last time we spent some time together…I swear he was about to kiss me, but then he just backed up and acted like he couldn’t wait to get away from me. It’s like anytime I think he’s getting close to making a move this switch goes off in his head and he’s tripping over himself to get the hell away from me before it goes too far. What else am I supposed to believe when he’s so back and forth on the romantic gestures. It’s obvious that he’s just not that into me.”

She paused again another heavy sigh leaving her the sound shaky. It was clear she was getting emotionally overwhelmed. She cleared her throat as she spoke again. “I’m done waiting around for men. I’ve spent almost ten years tending to a guy’s ego, emotional needs, and wants. I’m not a mother nor am I a therapist and I am not a sex doll. I’m done tending to and waiting for men. A perfectly nice guy finally asked me out and I am not going to turn him down just because I’m sitting around waiting on Filip Telford to decide what he freaking wants. Trust me, I’m so done being the girl who sits around and waits on a man to decide if he wants me. I’m not getting any younger. I’d like to settle down at some point in my life and maybe have at least one kid. If the music thing isn’t going to work out for me then I’d like to at least have some part of what I pictured for my life. If I’m not going to be the musician I wanted to be, then I’d at least like to fall in love with my soulmate and be a mom. I’m clearly not going to get that with Filip. So, it’s time to move on to a guy who can give me that.”

Chibs felt as though the breath had been knocked out of him as he soaked up her words. Him? She wanted him? She was talking about him?

He felt his stomach churn as he soaked in her words, his heart sinking all the further. She thought he didn’t want her?

That was so far from the truth.

When Piney Winston had announced that his niece would be moving back into town earlier in the year, Chibs Telford had been intrigued.

Chibs had been living in Charming for almost a decade now and he’d not heard of any Winston niece.

He’d of course heard the entire backstory from Bobby; Bobby Munson was a terrible gossip.

Apparently little Miss. Y/N Winston had left home at eighteen years old, just a few months before Chibs Telford had rolled into town. She’d taken off down to Southern California chasing some dream of getting signed to a record label in Los Angeles with some boyfriend who’d talked her into forming a band.

Though she’d not remained in Los Angeles for too long. Apparently she’d been hopping around the country living in New York City, Las Vegas, and Nashville, Tennessee. 

The boyfriend she’d run off with had bounced their band around from state to state trying out different cities and different labels. A few records had been put out through independent labels but nothing close to the music stardom they’d been hoping for had turned out.

Apparently the band had broken up with Y/N who had been the lead singer getting the boot after her ex boyfriend and she had a nasty breakup.

Y/N had been left broke and homeless; sleeping in her car and spending what little savings she had to survive as meagerly as she could. She had been forced to call up her late mother’s brother, the man who had raised her, and ask to come back to Charming.

Piney had accepted of course even shelling out the money to get her home. He was the type that believed it was a man’s responsibility to take care of his family, especially the women in the family. Y/N was family; that meant he was going to come to her rescue. 

Chibs had also received another piece of information about Y/N this information coming from Tig who had been happily listening in to Bobby’s gossip. “Y/N is hot from what I remember, but painfully untouchable. If Piney doesn’t shoot any guy who glances her way, then Opie will do it, Jax probably too. Fucking shame too, fine piece of ass like her having a ton of guys who aren’t afraid to commit murder watching her like rabid fucking dogs. It’s all look and don’t touch with that one.”

Upon hearing that information Chibs had been all the more intrigued but mildly terrified. Although Piney was attached to an oxygen tank, the man had a nasty temper. Opie and Jax were quick to anger as well, especially when it came to the women in their lives.

So, Chibs had resigned himself to keeping his distance and following Tig’s advice of looking but not touching.

That was easier said than done. Upon his first sighting of Y/N, Chibs Telford was hooked.

She couldn’t just be pretty, no that wasn’t enough. She also had a sweet personality to match her pretty face.

Then there was her voice. That voice had sprouted their very first conversation.

He’d walked into the office at TM Auto late one night when they’d been the only ones working only to hear her singing softly to herself absentmindedly as she went over the books.

The words had left his lips before he could stop them “Ye have a beautiful voice.”

She’d gazed up at him, her cheeks flushing ever so slightly and Chibs Telford had known he was screwed when it came to keeping his distance.

Before he’d known it there had been offers to take her on bike rides on the weekend, shared joints on the roof of TM Auto during Friday night parties, lots sneaking away during Friday night parties where they’d had deeper conversations that Chibs had with any woman in far longer than he would ever admit, and shared lunch breaks.

As much as his heart had screamed that he wanted nothing more than to press his lips to hers and press his body against hers preferably in a bed or any available surface, he had held back.

That stupid comments Tig had made kept ringing in his mind: painfully untouchable, guys who aren’t afraid to murder watching her like fucking rabid dogs. If Piney doesn’t shoot any guy who glances her way, then Opie will do it, Jax probably too.

Chibs Telford would probably deck anyone who called him a coward, but he’d found that he was spineless when it came to pursuing Y/N Winston.

His heart screamed it wanted her, but his mind told him that making her his would sow disaster among the club he loved.

Anytime he found himself imagining what it might feel like to feel the press of his lips against hers or feel how glorious her body might feel under his, he’d quickly pictured Piney Winston strangling him with the tubing of his oxygen tank or Opie or Jax putting a bullet through his skull.

Chibs had reminded his heart and his hormones that Y/N was only meant to look at but he could never touch her.

He had been foolish of course, he knew that now, he’d not considered that Y/N might just find someone who was willing to touch her.

He felt his heart sink all the more as Gemma spoke. “And this paralegal is going to give you what Chibs won’t?”

Y/N let out a deep sigh as she replied to this. “I have no idea, but it’s worth a try.”

Chibs grinded his jaw realizing just who this paralegal was. The man had come tagging along with SAMCRO’s lawyer to the clubhouse just a few weeks ago.

Jax Teller had contacted the lawyer to draw up some papers for him, something concerning a will and the Teller children. It had been nothing like what the Sons’ lawyer was usually called up to TM Auto for. 

Chibs had of course noticed the attractive young paralegal gazing a little too longingly at Y/N, and he’d not been thrilled with it.

He’d held back any desire to be a possessive asshole about it though. A little nagging voice in the back of his brain taunted him pointing out that he would not lay a claim on Y/N, so he had no right to get pissy just because a guy was looking at her like she was a rack of all you can eat ribs and a pitcher of beer.

It seemed though that perhaps he should have shown it bothered him.

He felt his heart crack as Y/N spoke. “I mean, I don’t get butterflies or whatever you want to claim I’m supposed to get when Russell looks at me, but I’m not saying I have to marry the guy. Maybe he’ll grow on me. Either way this date will be good for me. It’s time for me to stop putting all my eggs in one basket with Filip. I’m just breaking my own heart waiting around for him.”

“He should give you butterflies though, Sweetheart. You shouldn’t waste your time on a guy who doesn’t make you feel something. He shouldn’t have to grow on you.” Gemma pointed out a sigh leaving her lips clearly frustrated that Y/N seemed determined to see this date through.

Y/N let out a shaky sigh, it obvious she was feeling overemotional again. “I know, but I’m not sure what other choice I have. I am so sick of waiting on, Filip. I’m tired, Gemma. I’ve spent my entire life having guys I like scared away by my family both immediate family and my SAMCRO family. I ran off with the first guy who didn’t get scared off by you guys and look how that turned out for me. I came back home hoping things would be different…but it seems like even guys within the SAMCRO family are too chickenshit to make a move on me. Russell doesn’t seem scared. So, I should just take what I can get. Even if he’s not what I envisioned, I…beggers can’t be choosers at this point.”

“It doesn’t seem like it’s making you happy though, Hon. That’s all I’m saying. You’re settling.” Gemma pointed out the obvious Chibs feeling his stomach turn as he soaked in all the information that had just been slammed down on his head.

He felt his knees grow weak as he backed away from the door hearing Y/N’s voice sounding far too defeated. “We can’t always have what we want. I guess I’m just getting to a point where I no longer can say this is what I want my life to be and am just saying, well that’s life. I have to grow up and accept that we don’t get the love we want. I have to accept that this is what life is going to offer me.”

Chibs felt faint as he allowed everything he’d just heard roll through his mind like rocks in a rock tumbler. 

He let Y/N’s words ring through his head, the words feeling like dozens of little knives to the heart: we don’t get the love we want.

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Gemma tensed her jaw as Chibs Telford made his way into the office of TM Auto, the woman who had been ruminating over him having left hours before.

Gemma gazed up at Chibs who seemed to be lingering around the microwave that they kept sitting over a minifridge to hold whatever meals the guys in the garage might bring for a lunch break.

There was no real breakroom at TM Auto. Most of the patched in Sons who worked at the garage just took their lunches to the clubhouse, unpatched guys who worked in the garage were afforded less luxuries.

She dared to speak, deciding to just be as blunt as possible. “What are you still doing here Chibs?”

“Jus lookin fer a quick snack. Transmission on that Honda is killin me. I need some energy.” Chibs remarked a voice in the back of his head snapping that this wasn’t quite what Gemma was meaning to ask him.

Gemma let out a heavy sigh fast to say the words. “I mean, why the hell are you still here when the woman you are crazy about is out with some spineless yuppie prick?”

Chibs cleared his throat, his eyes widening. He spoke trying to keep his cool and pretend that he had no idea where Y/N was at the moment. “I don’t know what yer talkin bout.”

Gemma rolled her eyes not above calling him out. “Don’t bullshit me, Chibs. I know you heard everything. Y/N might not have a clue, but I could spot you through the blinds listening in earlier. Now, I’m going to ask again, why the hell are you here right now and not out crashing that date and taking what you want?”

Chibs felt his stomach plummet his head feeling faint all over again. He’d been asking himself the same question all afternoon. Why wasn’t he taking what he wanted?

He let out a heavy sigh, deciding to just be honest. “Pretty sure lass has a few guys in her life who’d skin me alive if I even thought of it.”

“So, you and I both know you aren’t the kind of guy who backs down from a fight?” Gemma pointed out rolling her eyes once again as she stood up, her hands resting on her hips a stern look of disapproval crossing her features.

Chibs dared to turn to face her, he almost shrinking back at the look of disapproval on her features. Not many women intimidated him, but the Queen of SAMCRO had a certain intimidation factor when it came to the Sons. She was like everyone’s unrelenting mother. No one wanted to piss off mom.

He cleared his throat trying to square his shoulders and make his point of view clear. “I aint goin to stir up trouble in the club, not when shite has been this tense. I’m doin this fer the good of the club.”

“Oh, bullshit.” Gemma remarked, removing her hands from her hips stepping around the desk to approach him.

She spoke again, her voice firm. “Don’t feed me that for the good of the club bullshit. You have been following her around like a lost dog since she moved back to Charming. If you were trying to avoid trouble you wouldn’t be so obsessed. You want her. If you think that no one notices it, then you’re blind and stupid.”

Chibs cringed at the comment, a heavy huff escaping his lips. “Doesn’t matter much if I do, Gem. Shite, I…”

He paused, his throat growing tight revealing the other reason he’d been so hesitant, the truth he’d not even wanted to admit to himself. “What can I give her? I’m a criminal, I’ve done a lot of horrible shite.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Chibs, but Y/N was raised around this club. When her mother died Piney was the only one who was willing to take her in. She knows this club. She is not naive to the nature of SAMCRO.” Gemma pointed out.

Chibs shook his head, a heavy sigh escaping his throat. “Even if that’s true. Shite with me aint so simple. I got an estranged wife in Belfast, a fuckin messy history there too. Shite is complicated there. Fiona and I been talkin bout finally divorcing…but that aint even started yet.”

“And she is aware of that messy history. She is all too aware of Fiona and the mess there. Hasn’t seemed to make her shy away from you, Sweetheart. You can’t use that as an excuse to not go for something with her. Don’t you think you deserve some happiness, after all the misery?” Gemma offered attempting to make him see the reality of it all.

Chibs took a deep breath rolling the question through his mind. “Do I though? Would I bring er anythin but misery? Look at what happened to Donna, Luann…shite, how difficult is it fer ye and Tara…isn’t lovin men in this life a ticket to misery? What if I bring er nothin but pain and heartache?”

“That’s a risk with any relationship, Honey. Sure, loving a man involved with the club is not without its own risk and heartbreak. You’ll probably break each other’s hearts a million times, but what matters is you put those hearts back together, together. You talk about pain, but I know for a fact that Y/N won’t be protected with anyone outside of this club. She needs someone who will go above and beyond to protect her. We both know that spineless prick she’s out with right now won’t have the balls to protect her. If push comes to shove he’s not the type to fight for her. I think you and I both know there is only one man who will do whatever it takes to keep her secure and love her. I’m looking right at him.” Gemma explained, reaching out placing her hands on Chibs’ shoulders, staring up at him.

She gave his shoulders a squeeze driving the point home. “You have to ask yourself something important, Sweetheart. Can you stand by watching someone who does not deserve her get a life with her? I think we both know the answer to that. Take what you want, Chibs. Decide if you can stand losing her or if you’re willing to fight for her.”

Chibs let the words sink in, the choice rolling through his head.

He swallowed a lump developing in the back of his throat, the answer seeming so clear.

He knew what his choice had to be.

============================

Y/N cringed as her date reached out placing a hand on her bare knee. His hands were too soft. 

The thought felt ridiculous but it was all she could focus on.

She glanced over at her date mentally wondering why she’d agreed to any of this. He wasn’t exactly her type.

He was too clean shaven and too prim. The polo and slacks he was wearing seemed too formal for a movie date. His blonde hair was neatly trimmed and styled. His face was too smooth and though he had a sharp jawline and nice cheekbones she found herself wishing that there was a little facial hair there. His eyes were a pleasant shade of blue but she found herself comparing them to a certain brown shade sported by a Scottish Son.

She pushed thoughts of the Scotsman out of her head, refusing to let Chibs Telford ruin her night. 

She placed her hand over Russell’s shoving it away as he dared to run it up her thigh getting too intimate in her opinion for a first date.

She spoke, clearing her throat as they turned down an unfamiliar road, the area looking more secluded and not anywhere close to the restaurant on main street he’d promised her they were going to after the movie they’d watched. “Where are we going?”

“Just a quick detour.” Was the response she received, the comment making her stomach turn a red flag waving in the back of her head.

She cleared her throat trying to laugh off the comment  as they turned down an alley. “Quite the detour.”

She felt her stomach churn as they pulled into an alleyway Russell parking and turning the engine on his shiny red sports car.

She glanced over at him through the dim lights a voice in the back of her head telling her that she was possibly in danger. This didn’t feel right. It was clear what he was most likely expecting.

She felt her stomach turn a hint of rage raising in the back of her mind. He seriously thought he could pull into an alleyway and get lucky?

She spoke her voice holding a bit of tension. “I’d like to go to the restaurant now, please.”

Russell leaned in his breath warm against her cheek he far too close to her he having taken off his seatbelt. “We’ll leave in a minute. I just thought we could take a moment.”

He spoke again making her skin crawl. “Come on, live a little.”

She parted her lips to once again demand that she did not want to be in the alleyway with him, but did not have much of a chance to say a word as he pressed his lips to hers.

The kiss was too damp and too rough. She recoiled from the kiss bile rising in her throat as he attempted to coax her mouth open.

She placed a hand on his chest shoving him back with all her strength she fast to speak making her voice as demanding as she could. “I want to leave. You need to take me home. I don’t want to be here.”

“Oh, come on Y/N. I didn’t take you for a prude.” He remarked a scoff leaving his lips.

She was fast to reply to the comment her arms crossing over her chest scooting up against the door thinking of reaching for the handle and escaping the car. “I want to go home.”

“I thought you’d be more fun, I mean the people you’re involved with, I assumed you’d be a little more free thinking.” Russell remarked, he scooting closer to her making her stomach turn the rage that had been building in her becoming all the more prominent.

“Excuse me? The people I’m involved in, my family?” She snapped her hand reaching for the door handle ready to bolt for it if she needed to.

Russell smirked quick to say it. “Family or not, I’ve seen the girls who hang around that clubhouse. Girls only hang around that club for one thing. Now quit being such a fucking tease.”

He pressed his lips to hers again the kiss harsh his hands roaming her body as she struggled to open the door panic surging in her, her mind screaming to run.

She shoved him back, managing to find it in her to deliver a harsh slap to his cheek.

The action worked a growl from his lips, his voice tense and far from the charming tone he’d taken with her when he first asked her out. “You stupid bitch. I’m going to make you pay for that.”

She felt her blood run cold not helping but wish she’d thought to carry the revolver, Piney had insisted on giving her when she’d first moved back home, in her purse. She had left the gun at home though telling herself it was not needed on a dinner date with a nice normal paralegal.

Her mind began to spin wondering what he intended to do with her. What did he mean by making her pay?

Her salvation came so suddenly she did not even have a chance to fully understand what was happening.

The driver's door was yanked open, a pair of hands reaching into the car and harshly yanking Russell out of the vehicle, a familiar voice sounding out. “What the hell do ye think yer doin?”

She widened her eyes, recognizing Chibs Telford’s voice anywhere. managing to open her own door, her knees feeling wobbly adrenaline still rushing through her veins as she turned to see the scene playing out on the other side of the car.

Chibs Telford stood over a stunned and scared shitless Russell, the Scotsman’s fist risen. “What the hell are ye doin?”

“I didn’t mean nothing by it. I just figured she was up for it. I mean I know you guys have girls who hang around the club who are up for that kind of thing. I figured she was used to this kind of thing.” Russell dared to explain Chibs’ eyes growing darker at the explanation.

He delivered a harsh blow to the man’s face, his fist colliding with Russell’s nose a sickening crack sounding out.

Y/N watched the blood pool around Russell’s nose the youunger man reaching up to clutch it as Chibs’ fist backed off.

Chibs managed to push back his rage enough telling himself that tending to Y/N was far more important than beating her date to a bloody pulp. He’d deal with Russell later hopefully with some members of SAMCRO to aid him.

He spoke his voice holding a dangerous edge. “Ye get in yer car and drive away before I do somethin worse than a broken nose.”

Y/N watched as Russell scrambled to open his car door and get in still clutching his bleeding nose with one hand.

She watched as he fumbled with the keys, managing to turn the engine, the car backing out of the alleyway and speeding off carrying her would-be attacker far away.

She stared up at Chibs Telford as she and he were the only ones left in the dim alleyway, her mind going a million different directions all at once.

This was not how she pictured this date going. 

Everything had gone completely awry so quickly, and she had a feeling her night was not over yet.

[garbinge]

Secret's Safe

Jax Teller x Ortiz!F!Reader Juice & Sister!Reader 30 Day Fic Challenge

Word Count: 3k A/N: I had more thoughts to make this more of a Juice fic but then.... Jax LOL.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Mentions of blood, murder, death, assault, secrets, lying, trauma, abuse.

Word Count: 3k SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

As you opened your eyes, they squinted quickly as the bright sun hit them immediately.  After blinking a few times, they tried to take in your surroundings. You were in the passenger seat of your car, the green signs on the highway were moving extremely quickly past you. It took you a minute to focus to see what was on the signs but soon enough you caught one that said Stockton 75 miles. That meant you weren’t too far off from where you were headed before you ran into the person at the wheel of your truck currently. That thought made you immediately snap your head over to see the blond haired man, hand on the steering wheel, white knuckled, his reaper hat holding back the oiled hair from the sleepless night prior. 

“You look like shit.” You spoke up, clearing your throat as you did, placing his jacket that he had draped over you on his backpack. 

It was the statement he had said to you when you ran into him at the truck stop last night. It was meant to be humorous but once he got a good look at you, he realized it held way more truth than he expected. The genuine concern is what brought him to load his Harley in the bed of your truck, and continue your drive out to Charming for you. 

Staring at the smile growing on his face sent you back to the days you were falling in love with Jax Teller. Back when he had the kutte without the weight of the office patches. 

“Didn’t want you to feel left out.” His voice sent a shiver through your body. It had been half a decade since you last saw him. It made you look him over more closely. His hair was longer, Jax always sported the long blonde look but this was a lot more lengthy than before, like something had happened that led him to forget to get it cut. As you looked at his beard, you thought maybe that was more the sign that things hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing for him. Your eyes moved down to his kutte, despite being new to you, the vice president patch on his right was dirty and worn. 

“You think we could stop somewhere for me to freshen up, I don’t really want to jump scare my brother.” You started to look through your backpack for your toiletries as you spoke. 

“Was planning to go to my place first, I know how you are with him.” His knuckles tightened on the wheel as the sentence left his mouth.  

You weren’t sure whether you were annoyed or comforted by his statement. You knew exactly what he meant, and it was unreal to you that despite the insanity of this situation, you could still fight about the same things you fought about then. 

“And how am I with him?” It was said in a way that you both knew the answer, but you wanted Jax to humor you, or maybe you just wanted to finally win this fight. You stopped your search for whatever in your bag and looked at him, eyebrows raised waiting for an answer. 

“Cautious.” He spoke the word immediately and you felt the argument practically line up in your voice like it was muscle memory. 

Keeping your relationship a secret was ultimately what broke you both up. And that’s what made you move back to the east coast where you and your brother grew up. 

Jax followed up his statement quickly before you could let out a syllable of your argument. “For the record, I get it now. I think I was still a stupid young kid wanting to flaunt my girlfriend around.” 

This was completely new to you. 

You looked him over again and despite the distressed look to it, you caught the fresh stitching. The patch was not only new to you but new to him as well. 

“I guess being the second in command makes you mature.” 

“Makes you see what people can handle, too.” His voice was firm as he spoke, eyes still on the road. 

“He wouldn’t have been able to handle it.” You agreed knowing your brother well. He was fun-loving, caring, hilarious, but he had demons. And if anyone else’s found their way to him, you knew it’d break him because he’d try so hard to take them on his own. Not saying Jax and your relationship was bad, it was surprisingly one of the better ones you’d been in, but you knew by having that, you’d be taking away the one thing that kept your brother stable. 

“He gonna be able to handle what brought you out here?” 

That snapped you out of your thoughts. Your eyes said it all but he didn’t even need to be looking at them to feel your shock and need for explanation. 

“I saw the blood in the bed of your truck when I was loading my bike. Thought I’d taught you better than to leave behind evidence.” 

“That’s mine.” It was so pointed how you said it. 

That made Jax’s brow arch in curiosity. As fucked up as it sounded, it was relieving to you to be talking to someone who wasn’t shocked by the possibility of mysterious blood or being on the lam from a crime. To be talking to someone who almost found curiosity in the thought of the situation. 

“I got mixed up with this group of friends out east.” He didn’t need to pry the information out of you, this was never an issue between you, sharing your thoughts with each other, talking through everything, was never the problem. Telling other people was. “Real party kids, you know, we were drinking, doing drugs, having a good time, until we weren’t.” You took a deep breath before getting into the depths of the story. 

“We were hanging out on the front porch of someone’s house, it was late, or early, however you wanna describe it, and someone rolled up, I guess someone brought a friend who knew some not so great people.” 

Jax had a feeling he knew where the story was going but he wanted to hear it from your account.

“I got stabbed.” This part of the story was so straight to the point compared to the rest. The context here didn’t matter much compared to the lead up. 

“Still missing the part where you got blood in your truck.” Jax was only saying this because you stopped talking and he knew there were pieces of the story missing. 

This was where it was hard to say what happened, partially because you couldn’t believe how stupid you were to let this happen to begin with, but also since it was traumatic. 

“They tossed me in the bed of the truck and left me there to die.” 

Jax’s grip got tighter against the wheel and he sucked his lips into his teeth, the anger rising as he thought about it. 

“Obviously I didn’t.” You tried to lighten the mood. 

“And you decided to come back here.” Jax nodded, fully understanding the story. 

“After I killed the person who left me to die. Who just happened to be the one who stabbed me.” Again, the words came out with no lead up, just the point. 

Jax’s eyes darted to you when you said it. Funny enough, it was what he expected the situation to be. An ex got abusive, it ended badly, or maybe an accident when you were drunk, but the thought went out once you ended your story. 

“Did–” He was beginning to ask how you handled it, you knew that was what he was wondering. 

“I handled it. No trace. I was coming back here just because I needed my family, needed a familiar face.” 

“Sorry this familiar one looks like shit.” Jax was now trying to lighten the mood. 

“It was an unexpected one too. I wasn’t even going to come to the clubhouse, was going to go straight to a motel and then right to Juice’s.” 

“No love lost, I see.” He let out a laugh. 

“More like too much love lost.” You leaned back in the seat and placed your feet up on the dash. 

__________

You pulled back the shower curtain and wrapped the towel around your body, turning to wipe the fog off the mirror and stare at yourself. The shower brought some life back to your face, but the only thing that was going to make you look well rested was rest. 

As you opened the bathroom door, you started to talk loud, calling out and asking if you could take a nap but your words got cut off as you slammed right into Jax whose hand was raised to knock on the bathroom door. 

“Sorry.” He chuckled and stabilized you by wrapping his hands on your bare arms. 

It was at that moment that the both of you realized this was the closest you’ve been in years. You felt Jax’s breath on your face, it smelt like coffee which made you smile inside. Something about the domesticity of him in his home drinking his morning cup of coffee. 

“I was coming to see if you wanted french toast or waffles.” There was that domesticity again. 

“Jax Teller, who used to burn eggs, is offering me french toast or waffles?” The water was still dripping down your skin as you spoke. 

“Alright.”  his head twisted to the side as he laughed and then looked back at you, his finger now on your shoulder catching one of the stray drops before retracting his hand and looking back at your eyes. “They’re pre-made in a package from the freezer, was just gonna toast ‘em, not get all fancy.” 

“I’ll take both.” 

“Both it is.” He was turning around to go back into the kitchen and you felt your breath exhale the moment he turned. 

You both never got a chance to eat together, he came back to ask you about coffee or orange juice and ended up in his bed. Breakfastless and clothesless. 

As much as it broke you to sneak out, you did it. Sneaking out like this reminded you of what you were trying to leave behind, but now, you had to remind yourself of how safe you felt being here. With Jax. You stepped into the kitchen and saw the toaster housing the burnt french toast accompanied by the burnt waffle in the slot next to it. You laughed and grabbed both, they’d still be better than the junk you were eating on the road. Grabbing a pen you left a note on the table for him. 

Thanks for everything. Taking your burnt breakfast and heading to my brother’s. See you around. xx

With that, you were leaving. It was late afternoon now, meal times didn’t really have a time clock when you were traveling with no sense of time. Driving to your brother’s at this point was like muscle memory, you didn’t have to give it any thought and before you knew it you were there. 

One thing about Juice was that he’d always welcome you with open arms and no questions. Okay some questions, but none that ever felt forced or pointed. 

“Hey! What are you doing here?” He was so chipper and genuinely excited to see you as he opened the door. 

“Refugee looking for shelter.” You smiled back and brought him in for a hug. 

“Come in.” Juice pushed the door open completely and with his free hands moved to grab your bag out of your hand. 

Immediately you felt like a piece of scum in his pristine apartment and you hadn’t even had the grime of the ride on you anymore. “You live here or just showcasing the place?” You teased him. 

He sucked his tongue to the roof of his mouth and made a clicking noise. “I like to keep things neat.” 

“I know we lived in the same house together for years.” You looked at the art on the walls, the only sign that someone made a home of this place. There were pictures of you both, pictures of Juice with your childhood dog, pictures of the club, SOA flags and Harley memorabilia. 

“Hey I have this in my bag.” You smirked and moved to grab your backpack from his hands, he still hadn’t dropped it anywhere likely because he wasn’t sure where it’s place was in his sterile home. 

You pulled the photo out from the side pocket, it was wrinkled and folded, the complete opposite of his. 

“It’s before I started sponsoring, when I just worked at the shop.” He smiled, grabbing the photo from your hands. “You brought me and the guys homemade turkey sandwiches.” 

“You always left your lunch at home.” You shook your head at the memory, “I hated coming by with just food for you.” It was true, you’d make a sandwich for the 4-5 guys that were working that day. It became a sort of bit, the guys were crossing their fingers that whenever Juice was working with them, he’d forgotten his lunch. It helped that you came with a bag of chips and a 6 pack along with the sandwiches. That’s what the picture was. You, Juice, Jax, and Lowell eating turkey sandwiches and washing it down with a beer. 

“Everything okay?” Juice’s voice got solemn as he spoke, still looking down at the photo. 

“It is now.” You nodded with a smile. 

“You need my help with anything?” This time his voice raised an octave, in a more happy way. 

“Just a place to crash.” 

“Second room’s all yours.” He waved his arms in the direction of the room because he knew you were well aware of where it was. 

“I’ll be sure to disinfect my bag before putting it down.” You teased him with a slight push and made your way to the room that used to be yours years ago. 

By the time the two of you caught up, you leaving out the big details that you easily shared with Jax, it was nighttime. He brought you to the clubhouse, excited to share your arrival with the guys, and just happy to have his sister back in town. 

You were plopped on one of the picnic tables as some of the club sat around you, laughing about some joke Tig just said, most of you laughing at him more than with him. Your beer was nestled in your hand as you sipped slow on it, not really feeling like getting drunk much these days. 

“You’re nursing that beer.” Happy’s gruff voice alerted you. It was soft enough that only you heard him. 

“Long drive cross country, it’s making me more tired than anything.” You explained, it was partially true. 

But Happy saw through it. 

“You killed someone.” 

If you had been drinking the beer you would have spit it out by the abruptness of his comment. 

“Excuse me?” You frowned and looked at him, you probably met this member a handful of times but you didn’t know him like you knew some of the other crew. 

“I can tell, you got that vibe.” He nodded his head, his voice extremely raspy. 

“That vibe?” You raised your brows. 

“Yea, that life ain’t hold the same innocence vibe.” He answered you quickly. 

“How would you know what that vibe is?” You were playfully asking now, knowing that it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if anyone here knew what you did, but it wasn’t something you were just blurting out. 

He laughed at that and didn’t answer the question. “Don’t worry your secret’s safe with me.”

“You freakin’ out our guest, Happy?” Bobby was walking out from the clubhouse, followed by Juice with a new beer for you despite you still not having this one nearly finished. 

“Happy?” You frowned and looked at Juice as you grabbed the beer. 

Happy grinned and lifted his shirt up to show his abdomen littered with smiley face tattoos and suddenly with no explanation at all, every question you just asked in the last 5 minutes was answered. 

“Oh.” You grabbed your nursed beer and finished it off quickly before moving to the new and cold one. 

Before the conversation could continue, the sound of two motorcycles cut the sound of voices out completely. Your eyes moved to see who it was, even though based on who was here now, the options were limited. You caught a glimpse of his long locks when he took the helmet off. Instinctually your eyes jumped to the movement of the person who came in behind him, tall and burly, and despite him still being far back in the shadows, you knew it had to be Jax’s friend Opie. With ease, your eyes moved back to Jax as he brought his hand through his hair. It was oily again, or still, which had you starting to wonder what his day looked like after you left. 

“Jax!” Juice called out from behind you and it brought you back to the current moment as Jax approached, taking off his riding gloves with a big smile on his face. “Look who's back on the west coast.” Juice was beyond excited to tell Jax, the thought of bringing back the days when the group of you would hang out clearly driving his enthusiasm. 

“Yea, I–” Jax was about to say how he ran into you the night before, you knew it, but your eyes went wide and your head shook just ever so slightly as a hint to let him know you didn’t want Juice to know. Luckily you were behind Juice on the picnic table so he wasn’t able to see it but Jax did clearly. 

What wasn’t clear was how he was taking your action. He seemed a little upset, but also he had a slight smirk on his face. 

“Yea, I see that. It’s good to see you.” He changed his sentence, his eyes staring at you. 

Behind him was Opie who clearly was aware of what happened between the two of you and was trying to hide his smirk from the awkwardness between you and Jax that only you three hopefully could feel. 

Jax took a step forward and you moved off the picnic table to stand. His arm raised to bring you in for a hug. 

“Thank you.” You whispered and squeezed him a little extra. 

“No worries, as always, secret’s safe.” 

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Summer - A Jax Teller/Reader Smut Short.

These sunny days have me feeling a certain way... 

Words - 621

Warnings - Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Lying upon the outdoor sofas in your backyard, all is well in your world, relaxed, happy, your man home with you instead of being up to his neck in club affairs. Life is good.  

The summer heat kisses against your bare skin, warming, prickly, meeting the buzz from the many cocktails you’ve steadily been imbibing, your head spinning a little. That slight euphoric dizziness has much more to do with the mouth between your legs, though, if you’re honest.  

“Having fun, darlin’?”  

A sweet moan makes him smile against the soft wet of you, Jax chuckling, his tongue working magic over your clit as it laps and laves, sucking, making you swollen and needy for something more, but content to lie back and enjoy what he has to give in that moment.  

His breath his hot against you, his beard giving delicious friction at your folds as he eats you rapaciously, chasing hot tingles over every nerve ending, relishing in the quench of your cunt as you melt over his tongue. “Fuck, I could spend all day down here, babe. You taste so good.”  

“I’d let you, too.” you murmur, hands losing themselves in the spun gold of his blonde locks, your hips swaying, his hands grasping, grounding you as his tongue roots into your pussy, dipping back and forth, a long, flat lick returning it to your clit, his groans all smoke and grit, fingers gripping the soft of your thighs as he buries his mouth against you greedily.  

“I will, if you want me to.” Pausing, he kisses his way up your inner thigh, fingers swiping your folds, stroking pure bliss over your aching bud. “Or I could just give you my cock right now, because shit, I’m so fucking hard.”  

As much as you love his mouth upon you, that big, thick erection within his grey sweats is the kind of gift you cannot pass up, reaching to stroke his face, Jax turning his head to suck your fingers, his eyes burning cool fire as he stares up at you.  

You instruction is simple. “Fuck me.”  

He grins, getting up to pull off his sweats, parting you knees and pushing against the inviting sight of your sparkling little hole. The wet squelch of him parting you is lewd, sinking in to the hilt, dragging back slow, returning with speed, watching your tits bounce as he lays one leg to rest over the back of the sofa, your other curling against his hard thigh. His blue eyes shine in a lustful stare, the sunlight gilding his pale skin, warm when he folds at the waist to kiss you, his mouth moving to begin sucking your nipples.  

“You always look so pretty when you’re getting fucked, baby,” he groans, beginning to add speed to each deep thrust. “Now, fuckin’ moan pretty for me.”

The song of the birds chirping in the trees have nothing on the sounds he draws from you, dragging your cunt as he sits back on his heels, his gaze dropping to watch his wet cock glinting with the sheen of your arousal, moaning deep as he arrows you with force, thumb moving to rub gloriously tingling sparks at your clit.  

You can feel the fire burning at the base of your spine already, glimmers searing as the pleasure skitters over you strongly, your nails grazing his abs as he fucks you in frenzy, your crest the shimmering wave and Jax the shore it crashes against as you come with a wail, his own release pumped into you seconds after, his hands gripping your waist as he begins to slow, his cock feeling amazing as it scrapes slowly against your tender, fluttering walls.

Yes. Life is good.  

[undiscovered-horizon]

Imagine being new to Charming and catching Jax's eye.

Because of how far and deep the tentacles of Sons of Anarchy reached, hardly anything could happen in Charming without them knowing.

And yet, there he was - staring at the Bread and Batter signboard hanging above the half-furnished shop with little to no idea what was happening. It went without saying, that being oblivious to certain changes could make or break a business in their, well, "profession".

His thoughts of "How the Hell did we miss this?" were interrupted by shuffling and a sound of struggle. Jax furrowed his eyebrows. Venturing towards the back of the little store, he expected nothing short of trouble. He wasn't one to believe in coincidences.

"Need a hand, darlin'?"

Startled, you dropped the crate with passion fruit. The blond man had a grin on his face as though there was something amusing about your red face or sweaty hair sticking to your forehead. It’s a warm day and the stock delivery felt unending.

"Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you," he said while making his way towards you. Despite the leather vest looking a little too much for the weather, Jax didn’t seem uncomfortable.

"No worries," you assured him. Feeling sweat gather at your hairline, you wiped your forehead with the back of your hand.

"So? Need some help?"

Considering how tired you already were, Jax was truly godsend.

"If it's not a problem..." you began awkwardly. You didn’t even know his name.

"It ain't."

With a polite smile on his face, Jax lifted the crate of passion fruit without much problem. You followed him inside the store but right at the treshold, he stepped aside to let you in first. As you asked him, Jax set the crate on the metal counter in the kitchen. Then, without wasting words, he was on his way for another crate of fruit.

A little awkwardly, you just stood out of his way, watching him labour away. Maybe it wasn’t the best first impression on your to-be clientele but that didn’t exactly mean the case was lost.

Around after half an hour of carrying fruit, dry ingredients and dairy, Jax was done. Slightly panting, he leaned his back against the wall, staring at you expectantly:

"Need anything else?"

"Do you think you could stay around for coffee?" you suggested. "To make up for your trouble." Although you clarified to not give Jax the wrong idea, part of you definitely wouldn’t have anything against that.

Clay is going to be pissed to Hell and back if he's late.

"Sure," he answered. Jax’s smile reappeared as his bright gaze followed you to the commercial-grade coffe machine.

[ravennaortiz]

I'm back! Missed you! I would have been back sooner but for some reason I was drawing blanks.

Then, THEN! I realized I hadn't seen a "one bed" for Happy and was like 😱! And immediately, my brain started going. Thinking maybe it's a lockdown and he finds you trying to fall asleep in a chair or something and goes "oh hell no" protective, says to stay with him, because it's safer, but does NOT think it through. Cue adorably awkward panicked realization. 💜

10, 33, 2, 15, 32

I'm so glad you are back!!!!!!!! I missed you too!!!!!

One bed for Happy??!!!!! With awkward and cute panic? I can work some magic for you!

Prompts

10.Shit. Only one bed

33. Are you blushing?

2. I'm not the right man for you.

15. Are you gonna kiss me or not?

32. You're mine.

Tag List: @keyweegirlie @hatersaremymotivators @meera10 @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @youngadult9016 @littlefrogbrain

One Bed

You had finally gotten comfortable on the floor of the clubhouse when you felt someone kneel next to you and a hand touch your arm. "Leave me alone" you snapped not caring who it was. Between being ran off the road this morning and then being forced to join SAMCRO's lockdown because of it your patience was gone. You wanted to be in your own home and bed. Yet here you were trying to use your bloody hoodie as a pillow and barrier to the sticky wooden floor, with someone bothering you.

"Come with me" stated Happy unamused to find you on the floor. he made a mental note to have a chat with the prospect on expectations in the morning. "You can stay in my room" he added as you finally looked at him.

You had half a mind to give him a tongue lashing for making you have to come here. You could take care of yourself, but something in his eyes made you bite your tongue. Keeping your angry thoughts to yourself for tonight.

A few minutes later you were coming out of the bathroom in Happys dorm after changing into one of his samcro shirts he had offered and washing off the grime of the day. You tilted your head at the sight of Happy still in the room his face full of distress.

Happy swallowed hard as he looked at you in the door way. He had been so caught up in being protective of you that he hadn't considered his room only had the small one person bed. What had he been thinking? "It's not what it looks like" he stated making you smile.

"What exactly is it not?" you replied as you raised your brows.

"Not trying to sleep with you" blurted out Happy quickly. "

"Excuse me?' you stated not sure if you should be offended or not by his statement as your cheeks heated up.

"Are you blushing or angry?" asked Happy as he watched you cross your arms as your face flushed. "I mean I could but like not what i'm trying to do. I want you to sleep, but not with me. Or not me with you. Not fuck but like sleep. I don't want you sleeping elsewhere though. Unless you want too. I mean you can do what you want. I prefer you don't. But also i'm not exactly the right man for you, but i could be. Only if you want. But sleep, we should sleep. Not together or we could. Its up to you." rambled Happy as he tried to explain himself but failed.

"Happy, shut up" you stated as you walked over to him and pushed him back onto the bed.

Obediently Happy shut his mouth and watched you as you looked down at him. His breath hitched when you straddled his lap adn touched his nose with yours.

"Are you gonna kiss me or not?" you inquired as you let a small smile play across your lips. Happy nodded but did not move. Rolling your eyes you pressed your soft lips to his gently at first. A settle rock of your hips had his brain kicking into gear finally as he grabbed your face kissing you back.

After a moment you pulled back with a smirk. "You're mine now Happy Lowman" you stated before pushing him completely down onto the bed as he submitted to you.

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[mysticalmallard]

Flower Crowns

🦆: Finally finished I really hope you guys enjoy it as much as I have enjoyed writing it

Pairing: Happy Lowman x OC (Katherine Morrow)

Warnings: A few swear words nothing else I think let me know.

Word count: 4,203

MainMasterlist || Rules & Requests

Happy, standing amongst the other bikers of the club, surveyed the event with curiosity. As he looked at the various activities set up for the children, he spotted a flower crown making booth led by a young woman. She was helping the children make their own crowns, while teaching them about flowers in the garden. Her soft and nurturing nature seemed to draw all the children to her, her delicate features and light brown wavy hair adding an air of gentleness to her presence.

Intrigued, Happy couldn't help but take note of her. He had heard of her from the other members of the club, knowing she was the daughter of the club's president and sister to the VP. Her reputation for kindness and gentleness, contrasting with the rough and tough world of the Sons of Anarchy.

Unable to look away, he continued to observe her. He noticed the way she smiled softly at the children as they crafted their flower crowns. Her delicate hands gently guided them to weave the stems. There was a certain purity in her actions, a innocence that seemed untouched by the darkness of the club.

Sensing someone approaching behind him, Happy spoke without looking. Back.

"Shouldn't you be at your booth Bobby? Gemma will castrate you if u bail on another event brother"

"I'm on a break man get off my balls" Bobby replies

Happy chuckled as he turned to face Bobby, a smirk on his face. He crossed his arms over his chest as he replied

"A break, huh? More like avoiding responsibility as usual."

He teased Bobby, knowing all too well that he had a fondness for shrugging off his duties whenever he could.

Bobby rolled his eyes but couldn't help but grin. He knew that Happy was right, he had a reputation for avoiding work whenever possible.

"Hey, I'm entitled to a break every now and then, brother. Can't be on duty 24/7." He retorted.

Happy let out a smirk, enjoying the playful banter with his brother. He shook his head in amusement, knowing all too well that Bobby's excuse was as weak as his excuse to skip out on church.

"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, Bro. We both know you'd rather spend your time chasing women than doing your job."

Bobby feigned offense at Happy's comment, his hand going to his chest in mock hurt. He was well known for his love life.

"Hey, man, I'm just a man with...certain needs. Can't blame a guy for having some fun, can you?" He replied, a sly grin on his face.

Happy gave a hearty chuckle, finding amusement in Bobby's feeble attempts to defend himself. He knew all too well that Bobby had a wandering eye and a reputation for being a ladies' man.

"Yeah, just keep telling yourself it's all about your 'needs'. We all know you're just looking for the next woman willing to keep you warm at night."

Bobby let out a mock gasp, pretending to be offended but unable to keep the smile off his face.

"Hey, I'll have you know that I'm a romantic, brother. Not my fault these women just can't handle all of this" gesturing to himself.

Just then Gemma approaches "Hey Bobby Elvis!! There are kids wanting to take photos with you get your butt back to your booth or my boot is going up your ass"

Bobby chuckled and held up his hands defensively.

"Okay, okay, I'm going. Jeez, Gem, I was on my break!" He jokingly protested but knew better than to argue with Gemma. He shot another playful glance at Happy before heading back to his booth.

Happy snickered as he watched Bobby leave, amused by the way Gemma could always crack the whip. He had always admired her no-nonsense attitude and the way she kept the club in check.

"Hey Hap, have you seen the prospect around?? Katherine needs some more flowers from the van, but she can't leave the booth, and I ain't carrying them boxes in this heat"

Happy raised an eyebrow at the mention of Katherine's name. He had yet to have the chance to meet her properly.

"No, I ain't seen him for a while Gem"

"Clay better not have sent Half Sack off somewhere I need him later to tidy up.... You wouldn't mind getting them, would you?"

Happy shrugged and nodded. He wasn't about to decline a chance to get closer to the source of his curiosity.

"No problem, I can grab 'em for you. Where's the van parked?"

"Great, it's just round the back, its the only one that says florist on it you cant miss it" Gemma says, handing him the keys. "And don't drop any of them. Katherine wants them all looking perfect for the kids" she adds heading back in the direction of her chilli booth.

Happy took the keys from Gemma with a sharp nod, knowing better than to upset Gemma.

"No worries, Gem. I'll handle 'em with care."

He reassured her as he headed towards the back to find the van.

As Happy approached the van, his eyes scanned the area, taking note of any potential threats. The club's security was always on high alert, especially during events like these. Satisfied that there was nothing out of the ordinary, he unlocked the van and climbed inside.

He rummaged through the back, looking for the boxes of flowers that Gemma had mentioned. Finally, he spotted them, carefully stacked among various gardening supplies. He hoisted the boxes with ease, their weight insignificant to his muscular frame.

With the boxes in his arms, he closed the van door and started making his way back towards the community centre. As he walked, he couldn't help but think about the woman he was about to meet. When he had heard about Katherine from Gemma and the others, she was always described as kind and soft-hearted. It was refreshing to hear about someone untouched by the club's violent nature and he was curious to what she was like.

As he turned the corner, he caught his first glimpse of her working at the flower crown booth, her delicate features focused on the task at hand. His steps quickened as he approached her.

His heavy steps caught Katherine's attention, and she turned breaking out in a greatful smile, ready to thank whoever her mother managed to rope into helping.

When she locked eyes with Happy he got distracted. So distracted he stopped looking where he was stepping and didn't see the curb...

"MOTHERFUCKER!!!" Happy shouted as he lost his footing falling forward landing on the boxes crushing all the flowers stacked neatly inside. Definitely not the ideal first impression he wanted to make.

Katherine gasped as she watched Happy stumble and crash into the boxes of flowers, the colorful petals scattering everywhere like a colorful explosion. She quickly rushed over to him, concern etched on her face.

"Oh my goodness, are you okay?!"

She knelt down beside him, worry in her eyes as she looked over his condition. Her attention briefly shifted to the ruined boxes and the crushed flowers, but her main priority was making sure he was alright.

Happy grunted, feeling a mix of embarrassment and frustration as he sat up, nursing a slight bruise from the fall. He looked at the mess of flowers around him, a hint of guilt on his face.

"Ah, shit..." he muttered. "Gemma's gonna kill me for this."

The surrounding bikers couldn't help but burst out laughing at the scene. Seeing big, tough Happy fumble like that was not something they saw every day. Tig, Chibs, Juice, and Opie approached, all wearing grins on their faces.

"Dude, that was graceful." Tig snickered, teasing Happy like any good friend would.

Chibs chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Yeah, really graceful, mate. Smooth as silk."

Juice just shrugged, trying to suppress his own laughter while Opie smirked, clearly enjoying the moment.

Happy shot daggers at his brothers, clearly not amused by their teasing. He pushed himself up, dusted off his jeans, and tried to salvage what little dignity he had left.

He looked back at Katherine, who was still looking at him with a mix of concern and amusement in her eyes. He could tell that she wasn't judging him, but still, he felt embarrassed at his clumsy entrance.

"Uh shit, sorry about that," he muttered vaguely gesturing to the boxes.

"it's okay, it was just an accident. I'm sure some are still salvageable, and if not, I can just turn them into potpourri" Katherine replies kindly

Her soft voice and gentle smile helped to ease his embarrassment a bit. He shot another glare at his club mates, who were still chuckling in the background, before turning back to her.

"Yeah, sorry about making such a mess... I, uh..." he trailed off, not sure what else to say.

"Hey miss, can you help me? I can't get this daisy to stick on." One of the little girls from the booth called over.

"Sure sweetheart i'll be there in a minute ive just gotta tidy something up first" Katherine called back starting to collect the scattered flowers into one of the less damaged box.

Happy watched as the little girl asked for help, and seeing Katherine starting to gather the scattered flowers into one of the less damaged boxes.

He stepped forward, feeling the need to help after causing such a mess. Happy moved with a surprising gentleness as he collected the delicate petals.

The others also joined in, their rough exterior contradicting their careful handling of the flowers. Opie helped separate the still-intact plants from the damaged ones, while Tig and Chibs gathered the more salvageable blossoms.

Soon, the mess was cleared, and the club members stood around the now semi-organized boxes of flowers, looking a bit out of their element in the flower-filled environment.

Katherine's giggle caught Happys attention he noticed it was directed at him.

"What are you laughing at girl?" He gruffly asked.

"Sorry its just...erm..here let me just..." She reaches over and plucks a bright yellow daisy which somehow latched onto one of his patches.

Happy froze, his rough exterior cracking for a moment as he watched Katherine reach over and pluck the daisy from his patch. He hadn't even realized it had landed there, blending almost perfectly with his dark clothing.

"Uh, thanks," he mumbled, feeling a bit embarrassed at the unexpected move. "I'm not exactly the flower type, you know."

"Well I better head back to my booth before the kids start a revolt." Katherine says starting to reach for some of the boxes but the guys step in picking them up first Happy a little quicker than the others.

"Aye lead the way love well offer back up if the little shits decide to act up" Chibs heartily stated.

Katherine smiled gratefully as the Sons picked up the boxes, led by Happy. They followed her back to the flower crown booth, their presence overshadowing the delicate and peaceful atmosphere.

When they arrived, the children looked up in awe at the intimidating bikers carrying colorful boxes of flowers. Some looked a bit intimidated, but others seemed excited to have the tough bikers join the activity.

One little girl hands Opie her crown "can u fix this for me please? It keeps falling apart"

"Erm I don't know but I can try..."

"Thankyou" the girl answers cheerily

Eventually all the members start helping making the crowns some enjoying it not that they would ever admit it though

Happy chuckled as he observed the club members struggling with the flower crowns. It was a sight to see them, these tough bikers usually found in a bar or boxing ring, now carefully weaving daisies and baby's breath into delicate works of art. Opie in particular looked like he was enjoying himself way too much, while Chibs kept grumbling about "girly crap".

None of them noticed some of the parent approaching worriedly seeing their little kids surrounded by the bikers. They were fine with them being around but they didn't like the idea of them being around their kids.

As the parents started approaching, concern etched on their faces, Happy caught sight of them. He knew what they were thinking, that he and the other bikers were a threat to the little ones. Even though they were very wrong, all of them would jump in front of bullets for any kid, but he understood the club has brought alot of trouble to Charming.

The atmosphere changed as the parents started to pull their kids away. Happy felt a pang of frustration, knowing that their reputation was working against them. He looked over at Katherine, noticing her crestfallen expression as the booth once filled with laughter and joy was now deserted.

The other members also noticed the parents' reaction, their faces falling as the children were being taken away. They all knew how they appeared to outsiders, with their tattoos, rugged appearance, and overall intimidating aura. It stung a bit, but they were used to it.

Chibs approached Katherine, trying to offer some solace.

"Hey, don't worry about it, sweetheart. They're just scared of what they don't understand."

"Yeah, believe me, I know being the daughter to the scary biker gang president. I'm used to it, dont worry," she replies, trying to sound indifferent, but everyone at the table hears the sadness hidden in her words.

The guys exchanged glances, understanding the underlying pain in her voice. They knew all too well that their lifestyle had consequences, and in this case, it was affecting the daughter of their president.

Happy clenched his jaw, feeling a mix of frustration and guilt. He looked at Katherine, her dejected expression tugging at his heart.

After a long pause Katherine clears her thoat and speaks up "...would you guys mind helping me tidy up may as well start packing up now"

The guys started to slowly pack away the booth she spent days preparing and planning for the kids

"Hey er what's this flower called again?" Juice asked picking up the closest flower to him trying to distract her

Katherine looked up from packing away some supplies and observed Juice holding the flower. She chuckled, appreciative of his attempt to distract her.

"That's a snapdragon," she replied with a small smile. "It's known for its unique shape that resembles a dragon's head. You see, the flower opens and closes its mouth as it dries." she replies a spark of joy returning to her eyes talking about her favourite subject.

"Really?..huh cool. Does it have a meaning like the different roses do?" Juice asked inspecting the plant closer.

Katherine nodded, appreciating his interest. "Yes, it does. Snapdragons represent grace, strength, and resilience. They are often used to signify hidden feelings and can be given to someone as a way of saying "I'll try to understand your unspoken thoughts and desires."

"Really this wee flower says all that?" Chibbs adds catching onto Juice's idea.

Katherine giggles, nodding her head in affirmation "Yes, it does. Each flower has its own language, so to speak, like a secret code that florists use to convey emotions and messages. Snapdragons, with their unique shape and symbolic meaning, are one of my personal favourites."

Happy listened in, finding himself actually interested in the conversation. He knew about the language of flowers to some extent, but listening to Katherine talk about it with such passion and knowledge was captivating. He found himself admiring her even more, impressed by her unexpected depth.

The Sons finished packing away the last of the booth's items, the once vibrant display now packed into neat boxes. Though he wasn't one for sentimentality, Happy couldn't help but feel a bit sad that all her work had been for nothing. He caught Katherine looking at the now empty space, holding onto one of the crowns a kid left behind, her eyes filled with a mixture of resignation and disappointment.

He stepped closer to Katherine, feeling the need to say something, anything to lift her spirits.

"Hey, don't worry about it. I am sure those kids had fun while it lasted." He tried to sound casual, but his gruff voice betrayed a hint of concern for her well-being. His eyes caught sight of the flower crown she held, and he added "At least got that as a memento, right?"

"Yeah..I guess but they were made to be worn...and this one got left"

Happy nodded slowly, understanding her point. The flower crowns were supposed to be worn with joy, not left behind like discarded toys.

He paused, thinking for a moment, then an idea came to him. With a sly grin, he extended his hand out to her.

"Here, give it to me."

Katherine eyed him with curiosity but handed over the flower crown, wondering what he was planning. She watched as he took it in his hands, his rough fingers gently holding the delicate petals. He placed the crown on his head, a comical sight that contradicted his intimidating appearance.

"flowers suit you" she giggled

"Hey no fair I want one I thought they were just for the kids" Tig whines. "Here give it to me it will suit me better it's wasted on you" Tig goes to reach for the crown.

Happy swats Tig's hand away, a smirk on his face.

"Back off, man. I look good in it."

He retorted, adjusting the flower crown on his head, enjoying the ridiculousness of the situation. The other members snickered at the sight.

Clay and Gemma approach, only to find Happy and Tig locked in a comical struggle over a flower crown. Their faces were caught somewhere between disbelief, amusement, and annoyance.

The other members tried to hold back their laughter, but the sight of their tough as nails friends bickering over a flower crown was too much. A chorus of snickers and chuckles echoed around them.

"Hey don't break it...Tiggy I can make your own one what ever colors you want there is no need to fight over it" Kathrine says in-between laughter

Happy and Tig were broken out of their bickering by Katherine's offer. They both turned to her sheepishly, embarrassed by their childish behaviour. Tig scratched the back of his neck, trying to act nonchalant.

"Uh yeah, okay fine." He grumbled, secretly relieved to get his own flower crown.

"Oh I want one too with lots of yellow" juice chimes in.

"Well hell I'll have one" Chibbs adds "you got any blue and white ones left??" He asks opening the boxes looking for the flowers he wants.

"You want them now?" Kathrine asks thinking they weren't being serious

"Well yeah...wouldn't want these flowers to go to waste" Tig says nonchalantly

Katherine laughs at the unexpected turnaround, still wrapping her head around the fact that tough bikers were now requesting flower crowns like giddy schoolchildren.

"Alright, alright, I'll make all of you a flower crown," she agrees, unable to suppress her amusement.

Happy stands there, flower crown still perched on his head, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement on his face. The other club members, meanwhile, eagerly wait for their crowns to be made.

They all sat in the grass watching her weave the flowers and listing off all their meanings Opie left and returned with his kids and Donna, who looked on with a mix of curiosity and surprise at the scene unfolding. Opie, ever the peacemaker, felt that this was an opportunity to show Donna and the kids a different side of the club.

Katherine continued weaving the flower crowns, listening to the bikers' requests for different colors and flowers.

Soon they all wore crowns except her even her Dad took one after hearing about her booth being deserted.

Happy was sat on the edge of the group, awkwardly attempting to weave the flowers together. His large fingers were far from delicate, and the petals kept slipping from his grasp. He muttered curses under his breath as his attempts looked more like a tangled mess rather than a flower crown he wanted to make for her as she was kind enough to make ones for all of them but he could give her this it looked like shit compared to her ones.

The other members glanced over at him from time to time, enjoying the sight of happy struggling with the flower crown. they whispered and chuckled amongst themselves at the sight of their friend, known for being rough around the edges, attempting to make something so fragile.

Happy grumbled at the snickers and comments coming from the other members, his face growing slightly red with embarrassment. He knew he looked silly, trying to make a flower crown when his hands were better suited to wielding a wrench or a gun. Still, he persisted, determined to create something somewhat presentable for her.

Though he was trying his best the result was somewhat pathetic the flowers were clumsily woven together, the petals sticking out in strange directions. He looked at the other members' crowns, neatly woven and vibrant, then down at his messy attempt. He knew it was nothing compared to her artistry, but it was the best he could do given his limited skills.

Finally, he finished tying the messy crown together. It looked a bit lopsided and rough around the edges, but he was oddly proud of himself. As he looked up at the others, he braced himself for the playful banter and mockery that was sure to come.

Happy muttered to himself, trying to rationalize his actions. he told himself he was only doing this to make up for ruining her flower booth, nothing more. He clenched the flower crown in his hands, feeling foolish and out of place surrounded by colorful petals and laughter.

He looked over at her, seeing her chatting and laughing with the other club members as she continued making the flower crowns. The sight stirred something in him he couldn't quite understand. he couldn't deny the pang of guilt he felt seeing her joyous expression, knowing that he played a part in ruining her day.

Well it's now or never he wasn't sure how to go about giving her his attempt at a flower crown, he's never given none before so isn't sure what to do so decides to just reach over from behind her and place it on her head.

Happy swallowed, taking a deep breath as he mustered up his courage. He reached out from behind, gently placing the flower crown on her head. He held his breath, waiting anxiously for her reaction, hoping she wouldn't laugh at his pathetic attempt.

She turned her head, surprised to feel the weight of the flowers being placed on her head. She looked back at him with a mixture of surprise and amusement, a soft smile on her lips. She could tell he was feeling a bit embarrassed, and reached up to adjust the flower crown, feeling the soft petals against her finger tips.

Happy watched her touch the flower crown he made, noticing the way she gently adjusted the messy petals into place. He scratched the back of his neck nervously, waiting for her to say something, anything. But all she did was smile at him, her eyes sparkling with an emotion he couldn't quite place.

The other Sons chuckled at the scene in front of them, unable to resist teasing Happy about his sudden burst of chivalry. Tig whistled approvingly, while Opie and Chibbs exchanged knowing glances.

Happy shot a glare at his fellow Sons, silently warning them not to say anything. He knew they were itching to tease him about his flower crown gift, but he wasn't in the mood for their jokes. He focused his attention back on her, watching her admiring the flower crown he made, hoping she didn't find it too pathetic.

She caught him watching her, and turned to face him fully. Her eyes met his, and she smiled, a genuine smile that made her eyes sparkle and dimple her cheeks. She looked down at the flower crown, feeling the messy petals against her skin, then looked back up at him, her eyes softened, and said softly

"Thank you, its beautiful." Sensing his awkwardness about it she decided to leave it at that and turned back joining in on the conversation again.

Happy's heart skipped a beat at her words. He hadn't expected such a genuine thank you, especially since the flower crown he made looked far from perfect. He nodded stiffly, his usual gruff demeanor replaced by a sense of vulnerability.

He sat back down next to Chibs, trying to hide his relief and elation over her kind words. The other Sons couldn't hide their amusement, but for once they refrained from their usual jokes and instead gave him approving grins.

The evening carried on, and Happy found himself stealing glances at her from time to time, seeing her interacting with the other club members, her smiles and laughter lighting up the gathering. He felt an unfamiliar pang in his chest, a mix of pride and protectiveness seeing her fitting in with them, even if she was surrounded by rough-around- the-edge bikers.

Tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @ravennaortiz

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[writingplotbunnies]

Best Served Cold (7/?)

Pairing: Jax Teller x OFC

Summary: Sophie learns not all consequences are bad as SAMCRO embraces her after she saved Gemma.

Word Count: ~3900

Warnings: angst, illegal activity, possessive behavior, sexual content, canon typical violence

“My car?” Sophie asked as they walked into St. Thomas. 

Jax laughed. “Sent Sack for it. It’s safe and waiting for you at TM.”

“I know it’s silly given everything else.”

“Nah,” Jax said, smile in his voice as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “It’s normal, and I know how you feel about that car.” 

Walking down the hallway, she saw a mass of leather-clad bikers. For a moment, the walls contracted around her. She’d been down a hallway like this, seen bikers loitering in the halls like this. That time, she’d been too late. That time, she’d allowed harm to come to her family. Blinking back tears, she forced herself to be in the present, to remind herself that everyone was fine. Then all she saw was leather because each biker took turns pulling her into a massive hug. 

“So glad you’re alright,” Chibs told her.

Tig held her face gently in his hand, turned it left and right, brows knit in confusion. “Thought she shot you?” 

“Nah,” Jax said as he wrapped his arms around her from behind, chin resting on the top of her head. “Soph shot the bitch in the shoulder. The other shot went wide.” 

Tig’s whole face lit with a smile. “You ever get tired of Jax, sweetheart, I’ll let you make an honest man out of me.” 

Sophie snorted. “I don’t know that anyone could make an honest man out of you, and I like you too much to insult you by trying.” 

Smile still on his face, Tig ruffled her hair before moving back. 

“She here?”

Sophie glanced up, saw Clay walking towards her. She’d never seen him look so serious, and she gulped at the intensity of his gaze. 

“Clay - ”

“Not now, Jackson.” 

Sophie moved herself from Jax’s arms, thankful he didn’t fight her on it too much and faced the SAMCRO president head-on. When Clay’s arms wrapped around her, she felt the whole atmosphere change. She hadn’t known what to expect from the man, but, when she felt a few tears escape his eyes to land on her neck, she understood. Whatever else these men were, they, like her, loved their families. 

“Thank you,” he whispered against her skin. “I don’t know what I would have done if - ” 

Sophie nodded. She understood far more than he knew. No one deserved the fate that might have awaited Gemma tonight. The fate that Olivia had faced. 

Clay pulled back, rested his hands on her shoulders. “Whatever you need, Sophie. Anything. You say the word, and I’m there.” 

Sophie smiled up at him, tears pricking her eyes. “Thanks. I’m just glad I was there to help her.” 

Clay nodded. “Gemma wants to see you.” 

She followed him down the hall to Gemma’s room. She smiled up at Sophie when they walked in. No bruises on her face, no cuts, no vacant expression. No tears. Something warm nestled in Sophie’s chest as she stared at Gemma.  

“Can you give us a minute, baby?” she asked Clay. 

“Sure thing. I’ll be outside when you’re done.” 

Sophie nodded, waited until Clay left before crossing over to where Gemma lay in the bed. Nearly collapsing into the chair at her bedside, Sophie managed to get a grip on Gemma’s hand before her face fell forward and the tears streamed freely down her face. For once, Gemma didn’t say anything, didn’t ask her any questions, but she could feel them in the air above them. Instead, Gemma carded her fingers through Sophie’s hair, which only made her cry harder because Gemma was the one hurt - alive, but hurt and here she was the one getting taken care of. 

“It’s okay, baby, let it out.” 

After a few more minutes of crying, Sophie lifted her head, wiped the tears from her cheeks and smiled at Gemma. 

“How are you feeling?”

Gemma gave her a wry smile. “Like I got hit in the back of the head.” 

The response startled a laugh out of Sophie. “I’m so glad it’s not worse.” 

“Thanks to you.” Gemma paused, settled back against the blankets. “Whatever it was that brought you to Charming has something to do with what almost happened to me tonight. Trust is a fragile thing. Which is why I’m not going to ask today. SAMCRO takes care of its own.” 

“I’m not SAMCRO.”

Gemma smiled indulgently at her. “You are now, sweetheart.” 

Sophie frowned. “The way you say that, you make it sound almost like a threat.” 

“No, baby,” Gemma said, voice soft. “Not a threat. Even if it was, wouldn't work on you. It’s a good thing. Those men out there - ” Gemma gestured towards the door. “They protect their family, just like you. Tonight, you became part of that family. That’s what SAMCRO is.” 

How did she tell Gemma that she didn’t deserve it? How could she possibly explain her guilt? Each time she closed her eyes she saw Olivia’s lifeless body lying in that hospital bed. 

“One day, Sophie, you’ll trust us enough to let us help you. Whatever you need, whatever trouble you’re in - you’re not alone anymore.”

Not knowing what to say, Sophie stood from the chair. She fiddled with Gemma’s blanket, fluffed her pillow. “You should get some rest.” 

Gemma looked at her with a mix of understanding and disappointment in her eyes. “You too, baby.” 

This fucking town and its nicknames. Sophie wasn’t sure she was ready to take on another family. She hadn’t managed to keep her last one whole. Shutting the door behind her, Sophie closed her eyes, leaned back against it and took a deep breath. 

“You okay, babe?”

Jax’s head was ducked, shoulders rolled forward, hands shoved in his pockets so he could look up at her, find her eyes. As unthreatening a posture as he knew. She nodded. Allowed him to pull her into his chest. Breathing in the smell of him, the leather and cigarettes, she found some balance. All the bullshit with Zobelle aside, she liked Charming. Enjoyed being around the guys. Loved the way Jax always needed to be touching her in some way - as though to remind himself (and her) that they were connected. Maybe she didn’t deserve another family, but that didn’t prevent her from wanting one. Hope they’d accept the tattered pieces of herself - it was the best she could do. If she had any luck left, they might forgive her when they learned the whole truth. 

Sophie leaned back, smiled weakly up at Jax. “I’m gonna go grab a cup of coffee. I’ll be back.” 

“I’ll come with you,” Jax said, falling into step with her. 

She pressed her hand to his chest. “I need a minute to myself. I haven’t had a minute alone since it happened, and while I adore you all for looking after me, I just need a second to breathe without someone there to see.” 

Jax didn’t look pleased, but he nodded. “Okay.” 

Before he could walk away, she grabbed his sleeve, turned him to face her and kissed him. Sinking her fingers into his hair, she held him against her as her tongue danced with his. Every nerve ending in her body erupted in sparks as his arms closed around her, his hands smoothing down her spine. Pulling back a bit, she breathed heavily against him. 

“I - ”

“Go get your coffee. I’ll be here.” 

She nodded, moved slowly from his embrace and walked down the hallway, the heat of his gaze never leaving. It took a couple of minutes, a few wrong turns, before she found a coffee machine, and when she walked up to it, she realized she didn’t have her wallet with her. Everything had been in her car. She shook her head. 

“Shit.” 

“Allow me.” 

Spinning around at the voice, she felt her heart nearly leap out of her chest. Ethan Zobelle stood in front of her. He wore a pleasant smile on his face, but the darkness in his eyes revealed his true nature. In his hand, he held a five-dollar bill. Hand trembling ever so slightly, she took it from him with a mumbled thanks. 

“It’s the least I can do for the woman who spared my daughter’s life tonight.” 

Blood turned to ice in her veins. Nothing could have prepared her to stand face-to-face with the man who murdered her sister. The scene featured heavily in her nightmares. On instinct, she reached for her gun, cursing as she remembered she didn’t have it. Police evidence. 

He held his hands out, palms forward. “I mean you no harm, Miss Cooper. It’s why I didn’t press charges. I saw no reason to make a bad night worse for everyone. And, to your credit, you are a remarkable shot. According to the surgeon, she’ll regain full range of motion.” 

“I know.”

She bit the words out without thinking. Zobelle offered her one of those condescending paternal smiles that men gave to women when they thought they’d done something particularly adorable. 

“I’m sure you knew exactly what you were doing tonight, and while I can’t figure out what stayed your hand, I won’t stand here and pretend I’m not grateful.” 

“Consider it a gesture of good faith,” Sophie offered. “Leave SAMCRO alone. Set up your white hate cigar shop in a different town.” 

His eyes turned down, faux sorrow on his face. “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I have business interests to protect here in Charming. I did extend my friendship to SAMCRO, but they were…unreceptive. ” 

Sophie nodded. It had been worth a try. Not that it would have kept him alive, but it would have gotten him out of Charming, away from SAMCRO. “In that case, Mr. Zobelle, if you’re determined to remain, you should consider why I allowed your daughter to live. Contemplate the choices you might make that would lead me to choose less honorable actions moving forward.” 

She could see the way his eyes had narrowed, the slight tension along his shoulders. Poking the bear might not be the smartest move, but she refused to stand there and make pleasantries. And since she couldn't shoot the bastard in the face, this would have to suffice. 

“Sophie,” she heard Chibs call as he came down the hallway. “There you are, lass.”

Coming to a stop at Sophie’s shoulder, Chibs eyed Zobelle, took a more protective stance in front of her. Part of the family indeed. She put a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry. I got caught up in conversation.”

“Aye. We’ve met.” 

Sophie cursed silently. She had hoped the overtures Zobelle had made hadn’t been in front of the whole club, but it seemed that her worlds had well and truly collided. Her new family was now caught up in the ashes of her old one. It wasn’t that she didn’t want any help, it was that she doubted they would be willing to provide her the help she wanted. She figured they’d take over, kill Zobelle themselves, and expect a thank you for their trouble. No part of her was going to allow that to happen. 

“Enjoy the coffee,” Ethan said as he inclined his head. 

Neither said anything as they both watched Ethan walk down the hallway, before turning a corner, disappearing from sight. Her shoulders slumped once she could no longer see him. 

“You alright?” 

“No,” Sophie said, too tired to lie. She could feel small spasms in her limbs as the adrenaline began to fade. The symptoms were familiar to her, and she hoped she could keep it together long enough to make it home to a nice warm shower. 

“Come on,” Chibs said, frown on his face as he tucked her close to his body. “Let’s get you back to Jax so he can fuss about you.” 

“I don’t need Jax fussing over me. Zobelle didn’t do anything.” 

“He upset you.” 

She rolled her eyes. Of course, the whole group still stood in the hallway, Tig, Jax - even Clay standing as she and Chibs came closer. She could read the concern in their eyes. 

“What happened?” Clay asked, eyes flinty. 

“Zobelle cornered her at the vending machines.” 

“That’s it.” Jax clenched his hands into fists, turned on his heel. 

Sophie reached out, just managed to grab the sleeve of his flannel shirt. Tugging him to face her, she placed both hands on his arms and forced him to meet her gaze. She couldn’t have him going off after the man. Not like this. Sophie refused to have another man in her life behind bars because of fucking Ethan Zobelle. 

“I’m fine. He didn’t do anything. Gave me five bucks for a coffee and thanked me for not shooting his bitch of a daughter in the fucking face. Now, I’m tired and you’re going to take me home so that I can have a nice hot shower.”  

She watched Jax’s jaw clench, saw how wound up he was about the whole thing, and she didn’t blame him. Understood how he felt. Enjoyed that he felt that upset because of what happened to her. Made something warm bloom in her chest. None of that changed her mind about how things with Zobelle would go down. 

Moving in close to him, sliding her hands up his arms, up to his neck so she could sink her fingers into his hair, she whispered against his lips. “I’ll let you wash my back.” 

Behind her the boys chuckled, a few offered a low whistle. Clay clapped Jax on the shoulder, a knowing sort of amusement in his eyes. No doubt Gemma used similar tactics to keep him in line, to get her own way. It was a dirty trick, but she would use whatever she needed to - a win was a win. 

“Take your Old Lady home, son,” Clay told him. “We’ll finish this at church tomorrow.” 

She mouthed a thank you to Clay who inclined his head. Following Jax down the hall, she knew he still wanted to go after Zobelle. His silence told her all she needed to know about how he felt about it. Sliding onto the bike, she held herself back a bit. She understood that he was upset, but she wasn’t just going to let him go do something stupid. When they pulled into TM, Sophie got off the bike and glanced around for her car. Locating it near the far side, she strode towards it. The shower idea hadn’t just been a ploy to get Jax to leave the hospital. She wanted one, and her shitty little rental house had one with decent water pressure. 

“Where the hell are you going?” 

She turned to glare at him. “Home.” 

Jax’s jaw clenched. “No, you’re not.” 

“Jax - ”

“He went after my mother. She shot you,” Jax spat out, eyes dark with fury. 

Ah. Sophie smiled softly. He was scared about what could have happened tonight. Closing the distance between them, she wrapped her arms around him, felt his own lock tightly around her. 

“I’m here,” she soothed. “She was a terrible shot.” 

Jax chuckled against her neck as he pulled back, his hands palmed her face, thumbs tracing along her cheeks. She covered his hands with hers, moved her face to press a kiss to the palm of his hand. 

“Clay called me your Old Lady. You gonna explain that to me?” 

Jax smirked. “Why you wanna know?” 

“Like I told your mom, seems to be a hierarchy around here. That douche canoe called me a croweater, which next person to call me one gets a bullet between the eyes because I know how the word whore sounds no matter what letters are used.” 

“You’re no croweater, babe,” Jax said as his hands moved down her body. He got a solid grip on her ass and hauled her up his body. Getting the idea, Sophie helped and wrapped her legs around his waist. Laughing as he carried her into the clubhouse. Looking around at the familiar mess that was his room, she laughed even harder. 

“Old Lady better not mean housekeeper because, between the two of us, it would become uninhabitable.” 

“Yeah?” Jax asked, smirk on his face. “Thought the Corps was all about hospital corners and snap inspections.” 

Sophie returned his smirk with one of her own. “I’m retired. No one gives two shits how your bed looks when you’re in the field. Plus, never was much good at keeping things tidy when I was on leave. It was one of the ways I disengaged. Clutter meant I was home.” 

He kissed her then. Slow, tender. The type of kiss that ruined people. Made them think about fantasy endings, a happily ever after. Sophie lost herself to it. She moved her arms up when Jax lifted her shirt. Moaned when his lips traced over her collarbones, the valley of her breasts. Goosebumps erupted on her arms as he slid her bra straps down her arms before tossing it over his shoulder. 

“What are you doing?” she whispered, smile in her voice. 

“Washing your back.” 

He continued to press open-mouthed kisses to her body as he unbuttoned her jeans. Pulling them down her legs he cursed when they caught at her ankles. Boots; they’d both forgotten. 

“Get on with it,” Sophie said with an imperious wave of her hand. “You’re not washing my back fully clothed.” 

She intended to pull her boots off. Honest. But, when Jax pulled his shirt over his head, she couldn’t help but stare. Knew her mouth hung open, knew she licked her lips in an obscene way. God, she wanted to lick every inch of his body, rub herself against him. Given the smirk tucked into the corner of his mouth as he winked at her, he seemed amenable to the idea. Unlike her boots which required the use of her hands, he simply toed off his ridiculous white shoes before pulling down his jeans. 

“My eyes are up here, babe.” 

Sophie nodded without looking away from his body. “I know where your eyes are. I’ll get there.” 

Chuckling, he pulled his boxers down his hips, allowed gravity to do the rest and Sophie let out a low whistle of her own. Now she really wanted to lick all of him. Half hard and hanging to the left, his cock fit the rest of him. When her eyes did trail back up to meet his, he simply raised his brows at her. Getting the hint, Sophie leaned down and unzipped her boots before shimming out of her jeans. Standing, she reached for her panties only for Jax’s hands to stop her. When he’d moved she didn’t know, but the heat from his body rolled into her as his fingers teased along the band of her panties. Hooking his fingers in, he tugged them down. They stood there for a moment. 

Jax stepped back first, running a hand through his hair before moving into the ensuite and starting the shower. Sophie took a deep breath before following him. Noting the SOA tattoo on his back, she licked her lips again. Gently, she reached out and trailed a finger along the edge of the reaper’s blade, loving the way Jax shivered under her touch. 

When the water temperature met Jax’s standards, he held the curtain back so Sophie could step in. Perfectly warm water cascaded down her body. Closing her eyes, she turned her face up to allow the spray to wash across her skin, pull the grime and the sorrow from her face and wash down the drain. 

“Nice ink,” Jax whispered against her ear as he plastered his torso to her back. 

“Thanks.” 

She felt his fingers trace along the rose petals inked into her skin. On each side, she had a black and grey rose with pink rose pedals floating up in parallel lines along her back. He pressed kisses along her shoulders before nipping her ear. His now soapy hands began to trace along her body in strong, sure strokes. She moaned as his hands moved around her stomach, up to cup her breasts, fingers teasing her nipples - making sure every inch of her body was covered in soap. As sensual as it was, she felt her muscles relaxing the more his hands moved over her skin. Even knowing she was wet enough he could slide in with no resistance, something about the moment indicated that he wouldn’t. He was taking care of her, and that realization nearly had her knees give out. 

“I got you, babe,” Jax whispered, hand gripping her hip. “If you’re gonna be my Old Lady, it’s my job to take care of you.” 

He pressed a kiss to the top of her spine. “If you’re gonna be my Old Lady, there’s only two ways it works. I tell you nothing, or I tell you everything. Can’t be any in between.” 

Sophie fought the urge to stiffen at the vague accusation in his tone. He continued to press kisses to her skin, so maybe she’d imagined it. Still, the knowledge of what she held back from Jax pressed against her. Gemma’s words from earlier floating back to her trust is a fragile thing. What would trusting Jax cost her? As secrets went, hers wasn’t really a secret. It’d been in the paper, well, a version of events had been. The court proceedings had been public record.

Her need to be the one to see the light leave Zobelle’s face kept her silent. She barely knew Jax. Knew he had secrets that could have far-reaching consequences - no outlaw biker had safe or insignificant secrets. Placing trust in the wrong person meant people died, and Sophie knew that firsthand, too. Too many engagements had gone sideways because the wrong person had said the wrong thing at the wrong time. 

Sophie reached forward and turned the water off. Jax got out of the shower and held a towel out for her, allowing him to wrap it around her body before he quickly dried himself off. Not even him wearing nothing but a towel tied around his waist distracted her from the dark, heavy place her thoughts had taken her. When Jax pulled one of his shirts over her head, she offered him a small smile. She might never buy clothes again. 

“I only have one real secret, well, one I’m not sure I want to tell you,” Sophie whispered.

Jax cupped Sophie’s face. “Trust don’t happen overnight, I want this thing between us to work, want you on the back of my bike, wanna see my crow on your skin. That only happens if we trust each other.” 

Sophie searched his eyes. He meant each word he said, and she wanted the same things. Times like this made her miss Olivia all the more because she’d know exactly what to say. But, nothing ever got accomplished by running away from it, from hiding. As she stood there staring at him, she realized something. She wanted him. She wanted the messy group of bikers who hovered and cursed and did bad, bad things. Olivia had tried describing it to her, but she hadn’t understood it all, not really, not like she did now standing in Jax’s shirt in the SAMCRO clubhouse. Since retiring, she missed her team. Missed having the camaraderie, the mutual respect and understanding. Jax deserved the opportunity to earn her trust, so show her that he respected her. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. 

“My sister, Olivia, she married into an MC. Michael was the Sergent at Arms for the War Boys before Ethan Zobelle came into town. Now Olivia is dead and there’s no more War Boys MC in San Bernardino.”

Part 8

Master List

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐄𝐍

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2k Warnings: swears, alcohol

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

There was a bittersweet taste in the room when Jax walked in. It was like déjà vu; a scene you had already seen before. With his hair slicked back, stubble growing, the same white shirt.

Slowly, Jax removed each finger from his glove, and pulled the leather glove from his oil-stained hands. Shoving them in his back pocket, he waited for you to sit before he did.

You realised in the midst of your scrambled cleaning; you had turned down the lighting and lit a few candles. Now looking at Jax, it felt too much. You were just so caught up in your own thoughts, and did what you would do for every visitor.

   “Smells good in here,” he said, his eyes looking up at you through his thick lashes.

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, internally criticising yourself for taking credit for a fucking candle. What is he thinking? Probably that I’m trying to seduce the fucker.

You were hit with a sudden feeling of vulnerability.

Was it the fact that you didn’t have your usual clothes on? The little use of make-up? He had seen you … well, at your worst and you hadn’t cared then. So, why now?

Self-awareness. That’s what. That’s the fucked-up reason you feel so exposed. Being completely aware of yourself, of your history with Jax; your cheeks started to heat.

Prior memories snuck up behind you, about to grab you, drag you back into the past. Your chest felt heavy, and you could feel those hands; cold, inky black and sharp.

Your eyes quickly looked to Jax, and he grounded you. He started the panic, but … he was able to stop it too.

   That was why you had to speak to him. You didn’t want a darkness to be associated with him. Even though he had done … not so great things, you knew he would never do anything to hurt you. However, you needed him to say it.

- ✦ -

Setting down the two glasses and the bottle of liquor, Jax watched as you gave him a curt smile and popped open the bottle.

‘Fuck I’m going to need this,’ you thought, pouring his first, then doubling the amount in your glass. He chuckled. And sneaking a glance at Jax’s face, you saw delight … pure delight.

    “Don’t judge me, Teller,” you said as you held out his glass and sat down. You hadn’t called him by his last name since Tara had died. You had a lot of banter with him during his marriage, but nothing went further than flirtatious remarks. You weren’t a homewrecker. And he didn’t want to ruin his marriage.

But here you two were, in a nasty twist of fate.

“Not for a second,” he smirked back.

God. You were supposed to be mad at him, and yet, you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips.

You were stunned for a moment, a thought popping into your head. After all this time, your heart still yearned for Jax Teller.

  - ✦ -

Right before Jax knocked on your door, you had ushered the dogs outside, to give you and Jax some privacy. Otherwise, their attention-seeking ways would take away from the deeper conversation. It was an attempt to encourage as much openness from you, as well as Jax. And having two big pups trying to vie for attention would create a distraction.

You didn’t want a distraction.

It would give Jax a reason not to look at you. Well, that was your thought process anyway.

  But Angus and Jango weren’t having a lick of it. They were desperate to be by your side, whining non-stop as soon as Jax walked in the door. They weren’t in protection-mode, merely curious about what was going on inside.

 It didn’t take long for Jax to notice, especially when Jango started whining in such long instances, that it sounded as if he was singing a melancholy tune. So much for being serious, you mentally groaned, conscience of your actions around Jax. And once again, your dogs were traitors.

Getting up from his seat, Jax walked into the kitchen and to the back door. You were about to tell him to come sit back down when he looked at you and cocked his head, motioning to the back door.

   “C’mon, let ‘em in” he said. For some reason you held your breath but did so.

Walking up beside Jax, you held onto the black rectangle and slid open the door. Their first action was completely embarrassing for a human, but utterly normal for a dog. Each taking turns at sniffing Jax’s behind, you chastised them.

  Surprisingly, Jax let out a bark of laughter, petting the heads of each dog.

You chastised them, but with their puppy dog eyes, they were too precious for any real discipline.

But almost as if he had read your thoughts, when you went back into the loungeroom, Jax didn’t use the dogs as an excuse.

  He looked at you with unwavering intensity.

Even from his seat, the glass reaching his lips, he took a gulp the whole while, maintaining eye contact.

And you felt something shift inside you, a flurry of butterflies in your stomach and … a heat in your core.

- ✦ -

The liquor gave you confidence, and a loose tongue.

  But the words you spoke needed to be said, and they needed to be heard.

“You hurt me Jax. Truly, it felt like you had broken my heart in two.” These words would never have been said if you hadn’t been drinking doubles for the past hour, but you needed him to understand.

Jax was silent as you spoke. His eyes firm in their connection into your own. He sat with a leg resting over his other, his arms resting on the arm chair.

    “I don’t expect you to be ready for commitment. Not after …” you took a moment before letting his dead wife’s name leave your lips.

His eyes flickered downward for a second, before returning back to yours.

    “But I won’t be half in. I’m not someone you can call on sometimes. I’m either with you…or well, not.”

Downing the rest of your glass, you moved to fill up both yours and Jax’s cup. But he halted you.

   “Let me,” he said, leaning forward and popping open the bottle.

You sat back and watched as Jax moved. His roughened hands clasped around the bottle, the other holding the glass.

  The liquid splashing in the glass was the only noise in the room. He filled your glasses the same amount.

   Jax serving you. It was nice…and wouldn’t it be divine if he could do this for the rest of my life? You chastised yourself for the thought. Don’t get ahead of yourself. He could very well still leave you with a broken heart.

The thought made your ears go warm, and the blood drain from your body. With a growing lightness, you thought of all the things you and Jax could do if you were together. The dates, the dinners, meeting his boys and getting to know them, being around the other Sons…feeling like you had a family again.

Reaching out, you leaned forward to grab onto the rim of the glass. As your hand reached it, he pulled it back from your reach.

   He looked at you, really truly looked at you.

  “Zo, I am all in.”

Thank fuck he was still holding the glass because it would have slipped from your hands and shattered on the floor.

  “What?” You whispered, knowing what he said but wanting to hear it again.

“I’m all in. You and me, no one else.”

   You took in a big breath and exhaled. Light-headed, you thought maybe you had imagined it. But his hand reached out and took your own.

You closed your eyes to stop yourself from crying.

  “You mean it Jax? Because I’m giving you an out. A real out. You can leave me without feeling guilty.” Word vomit, goddamn, word vomit.

   “You don’t have to be with me,” you finally finished speaking.

You weren’t trying to persuade him not to be with you, but to show him that this is it. There’s no turning back now.

- ✦ -

(play ‘The Lure’ by The Weeknd)

The bottle lay unnoticed as Jax pulled you from your seat.

He stood in front of you, the same way you had stood when he told you he couldn’t do this. And that had been only a few days ago.

  So much had changed in such little time.

And both of you knew it. Self-awareness at its best. Because Jax took both your hands and held them to his chest. He felt warm, and his chest was hard underneath his shirt.

  He didn’t say anything about the similarities, because it was one of those things that was known. You and Jax had a lot of those moments. Where you just knew what the other must be thinking.

Looking upwards, you stared into his piercing blue eyes. He had those same faded freckles, with the smell of cigarettes and the leather of his kutte. Comfort.

Two different people, two different hearts, both thudding in time.

   “I’m sorry for what I said before,” his voice was soft. Barely above a whisper, and yet his words felt so loud inside your mind.

You didn’t interrupt him or try to speak. You had said your piece, told him everything. Plus, it was better to keep your mouth shut. The liquor had gotten to your head quicker than normal.

And now it was his turn.

   “I was scared,” he moved closer to you, one hand holding both of yours onto his chest. You gripped the white fabric.

The night was dark and silent. Halting, waiting for the two of you. The world had stopped spinning, stopped turning. No crickets, no owls, no noise or movement.

  Even the dogs were lying down, unmoving save from their tails, which were wagging lightly.

He continued on, “not an excuse, I know. But I couldn’t put you in danger. Zo, I couldn’t. Because I cannot, I will not, lose another person I love.” His jaw clenched, the muscles tensing. And you wanted to reach out. But somehow you knew he needed your hands to stay where they were. Almost as if they were opening up his heart themselves.

  “You Zo, I think, no, I know, that you are the next love of my life. The last love of my life.” His forehead rested against yours, and your eyes fluttered close. You were breathing in each other’s air, sharing your inner source.

A tear fell down your cheek, and it felt so cold against your hot complexion.

Jax reached out and wiped it away. He held you close, and you could feel the tip of his nose taking in deep breaths against your neck.

How long had you desired him? How goddamn long! Never did you think this would happen. You’ve known him for years and considered him a crush that couldn’t lead anywhere. But no! Your feelings … they had been reciprocated. You weren’t doomed to be an unrequited love.

 It was done; decided. There was no going back. You were both in this, ready for life – together. The inevitably danger would be handled … together. Whatever will come, will come. But for now, you were happy to be in his presence, breathing in his air, touching his chest.

   “You and me,” you mumbled, rubbing your nose against his.

Smiling, he did the same. “Me and you.”

 And then his hands let go of yours, and slid to your cheeks. Moving his head to the side, he slowly pressed his lips to yours. Warm, that’s how you describe Jax. Which ironically, is not how the majority of people would associate him with.

  But with you, oh. He was warm. Affectionate. Lively.

He was once again, light-hearted. And Jax realised that he felt like he could take on the world.

[tumbleweed-writes]

Scorned: Chibs Telford X Reader. Chapter Two

PREVIOUS CHAPTER HERE

========

Chibs was still seething by the time he made it back to the Sons clubhouse. He had taken a long ride after confronting Jarry, hoping that the long ride could clear his brain and soothe the dreadful sense of anxiety that had settled down into his belly.

He found though that he still felt just as keyed up as he’d been when he’d left the local police department. If anything he found that he felt more irritable as the day had gone on and his mind had longer to stew on the situation with his ex fling and his current love.

He barely acknowledged Tig, barely giving his vice president a tight nod, as he rounded the corner of the service counter that had once served ice cream and other novelty treats.

The service counter now served as a makeshift bar of sorts, glasses, pitchers, and bottles of liquor being stored under the cabinet and bottles of beer resting in the mini fridge that had been purchased.

It was not the most sophisticated setup and it was certainly nothing compared to the bar that had rested at the old Sons clubhouse at TM Auto, but it worked for their current needs.

That could be said about most of the features of their current clubhouse. It fit for their current needs but they were unsure if it would be where their clubhouse would remain.

The space did not feel as secure as the Sons old compound out at TM. The old storefront honestly felt as though it was a little too public facing though the line of shops the building resided on was not the most active.

Jacob Hale had bought out most of the shopspace when he had hopes of building a high end condo on the property. That dream of course had been shot down partially thanks to SAMCRO’s involvement in making sure that plans for development did not go through.

The retail and living spaces had been left empty for years, Hale finding that he was unable to unload them for a price that might cause him to break even.

A few businesses had moved into the spaces but the area still felt less than developed.

That didn’t mean that more businesses might come though. 

Chibs couldn’t help but to think that perhaps SAMCROs clubhouse needed to be in a more secure feeling location where the public was less likely to gaze upon it so easily. 

At least the old clubhouse had felt separate from the Sons legit business at the auto mechanic shop. The old clubhouse had the ability to be gated off with the fence surrounding TM Auto and the clubhouse lot. It had made things feel more protected in times of lockdowns and had given a sense of privacy.

Privacy was not something SAMCRO could financially afford at the moment though. They were barely out of the red with RedWoody Productions. There had been some side work doing protection runs for a few trucking companies and a couple of other side jobs involving bodyguard gigs. The club was just scraping by though.

Chibs had hopes that perhaps when the club found themselves enough out of the red that they might be able to look for a more permanent home that felt less open to the public. He had also considered perhaps buying Hale out and buying a few of the properties beside Scoops and Sweets. They could surely find a way to construct some sort of massive clubhouse that felt a little more secure with more buildings and the right construction crew.

It was just a pipedream at this point though the club not quite having the money to invest in that kind of project at the moment.

They had at least finally painted over the Scoops and Sweets signs hanging over their awning and the ice cream and candy signs on the sides of the entrance making it look less inviting to anyone who was unaware that this building no longer was an innocent ice cream parlor. 

A club hangaround had even offered to paint a Sons Reaper somewhere on the building, but Chibs and the man were still negotiating just what the idea would entail.

Chibs could admit he was at a loss as to what to do with the building. 

His brothers and he had done their best to make the space feel less like an old retail space and more like their clubhouse but it was a slow work in progress.

A few Friday night parties had at least managed to happen in the smaller space making it feel more like home as time had gone on.

Chibs said nothing as he opened the cabinet below him, finding a shot glass and a bottle of Jameson.

Tig watched as Chibs poured a far too full shot, taking it down before following it up with another in quick succession.

He dared to speak spotting the tension rolling off his club Pres. “You good brother?”

Chibs gritted his jaw there being a million things he wanted to say to describe how he felt at the moment but he only found one statement that perfectly encapsulated how he felt. 

“Ye ever felt like yer past was comin up tryin to fuck over yer future?”

“More often than you know. What’s this about? Everything quiet with the Irish?” Tig dared to ask jumping to the most logical conclusion about just what Chibs’ past pertained to.

Chibs sighed, taking another shot almost wishing it was that simple. He would almost rather deal with the True IRA than whatever shit Sheriff Jarry was attempting to pull.

He let out another sigh shaking his head. “Aye, not heard a word from em in a long while.”

He paused the venom clear in his voice as he spoke again explaining his issue. “Fuckin Sheriff Jarry’s been talkin to my ol lady, bringing up our past arrangement to Y/N. Stirring up shite.”

Tig let out a heavy huff, his jaw tensing at the comment. He shook his head quick to ask. “What game do you think she’s playing here? It’s been almost over a year since you two ended that little arrangement. You think she’s playing the long game, trying to prod an ol lady to say the wrong thing so she can go after SAMCRO?”

Chibs shifted the bottle of Jameson in his hand thinking about just drinking straight from the bottle at this point but quickly decided against it. “I don’t know. I almos hope it’s that simple. I can’t shake the fuckin feelin its more personal than that though. Feels more like she’s got it out fer me fer endin shite with her. She left town pretty soon after Jackie Boy…after shite ended.”

Chibs paused his throat growing tight at the mention of his fallen brother and the sacrifice that had been made. 

He took a deep breath speaking again. “Feels more like she’s stirrin up shite to try to get rid of her competition. She was always fuckin push and pull with me. Didn’t want the reality of what bein with me was but was back and forth on if she wanted to end shite. She wanted me to make the choice fer her so she could be pissed no matter what fuckin choice I made. It was fuckin exhausting, shite felt draining. I couldn’t fuckin trust her. The sex was great, but the shite that went along with her was fuckin killin me. I’m the one who finally put an end to the back and forth bullshite. Part of me thinks she had hopes we’d rekindle shite between us at some point…that things would go back to the way they were, her feedin us intel and money bein exchanged…us fucking. I fuckin told her it was over when I ended it, told her we’d make her disappear if she got on SAMCRO’s wrong side. Me movin on and takin an ol lady is a sign that I meant what I said bout it bein over.”

He shook his head still glaring down at the bottle of Jameson. “Feels like Jarry either wants to push Y/N from me to knock her out of the way and force me back to her…or she jus wants to fuckin punish me fer movin on.”

Tig let out a heavy sigh shaking his head unable to stop himself from saying it. “Guess that’s why they say not to stick your dick in crazy.”

Chibs scoffed at the comment, a small pained chuckle leaving him. “Aye, think we’re both guilty of that shite.”

Tig gave him a slight nod raising his brows knowing Chibs had a point. He’d not always chosen the most stable of bedroom partners in the past.

Chibs continued to stare down at the bottle of Irish Whiskey, his head aching and his mind spinning.

He found himself fretting over just what Jarry’s game plan was here. He didn’t trust her. That had been one of the biggest issues in their time together; a lack of trust.

How could he trust anyone who wore a badge? Even if the badge was worn by a cop who was willing to play dirty?

He was certain she didn’t trust him either. He was a professed criminal so of course she had not trusted him.

She had spent the relationship pushing for him to give her more information about the activities of the Sons and truth about acts he denied them having any involvement with.

Chibs was unwilling to open that can of worms up with her though. He had the slightest feeling she could not entirely handle the truth with as back and forth and as flighty as she seemed.

She was constantly declaring that he was the worst choice for her romantically in one breath and insisting that she wanted him in the other breath.

She would goad him into being the bad guy and breaking things off with her and when he refused to make the choice for her she reacted with anger and spite.

It felt like mental chess and Chibs was too damn old for mind games.

To be honest he had found himself knowing that there was no real future between them; no reasonable one at least.

They could never be exactly open about their involvement. It wouldn’t look so innocent to have the local sheriff dating the known outlaw biker. The residents of Charming would kick Jarry right out of the job if there was any sort of normal courting situation.

The only option had been to be secretive and to maintain the exchange of information and cash between Jarry and SAMCRO as well as the secret sexual encounters between Chibs and Jarry.

Although the sex had been good and he had fun with Jarry when she was not so controlling and neurotic, Chibs had known that there was no chance of longevity in their odd pairing.

Althea Jarry was controlling, paranoid, indecisive, and at times erratic . She spent her time pushing his buttons and his patience until they both brought out the worst in one another.

Good sex and an exchange of intel for SAMCRO had not been worth the emotional turmoil Chibs felt that Jarry had brought with.

Tig finally spoke nodding to the bottle Chibs was still hyper focused on. “Venus and I can take Y/N out to lunch this weekend…see where her head is at, see if she feels threatened and reassure she’s got no reason to be. You know if Jarry pushed any buttons, Venus’ll know how to unjam em. You gotta talk to Y/N bout this though. Don’t know how much you told her about Jarry and you, but you gotta tell her everything. Prepare her for the worst and trust her to handle it.”

He paused quick to speak again. “You should get out of here. Get on over to Y/N’s place. Open up to her about this shit. Sitting here and trying to drown it in Jameson isn’t going to do you any favors.”

Chibs frowned, wanting to snark that Tig thought he was some kind of relationship expert now that he had a steady ol lady in Venus Van Dam.

He bit his tongue keeping the comment inward knowing lashing out at Tig for genuinely giving him some good advice was not ideal. He could admit to it being a surprise that this good advice came from such an unlikely source.

Chibs knew Tig had a point. Y/N would most likely alleviate his fears and anxieties or at the very least be willing to share the burden of them with him.

When Chibs had met Y/N he had still been reeling from how things had ended with Jarry.

The sheriff had taken a long sabbatical after the misery that had gone down with the fall of Jax Teller.

Chibs had been left struggling to pick up the pieces of the fractured club that was now his responsibility to lead. He had been left traumatized by loss and the horror of all that had happened.

To make matters feel more emotionally draining Fiona had decided to grant him a long awaited for divorce which meant that Chibs was coping with the fact that that chapter of his life was officially legally closed. It had been a closure that had left him both mourning what had been and feeling uncertain of what would be. 

He had been sleep deprived, stressed, and emotionally drained when Venus Van Dam had casually brought up the cute little thing that had opened up an antique shop down the street from the Sons clubhouse.

Chibs had not thought much of the comment he having a million other things on his mind. He’d not even paid much mind to it when Tig had begun to go on little shopping trips with Venus down the street to this antique shop.

When Kerrianne’s birthday had rolled around and Chibs had been at a loss as what to buy her, Venus had suggested the shop.

He’d not walked into that shop expecting to fall in love, but it had hit him like a brick to the back of the head.

He was not a believer in love at first sight. He’d always firmly thought it was more of a case of lust at first sight.

There had been something there between Y/N and he upon their first interaction; a comfort he’d not known with many people.

He had realized that Venus had picked up on it quickly, spotting the look on his face when he’d returned with a purchased bracelet for his daughter and a look in his eyes that screamed infatuation.

Venus Van Dam was a hopeless romantic and had seemed to encourage the interactions between Chibs and Y/N mentioning the shop would be a good place to find items to furnish the clubhouse and make it feel more like home.

The visits to the shop had become frequent for Chibs and a friendship had grown.

When Venus had proudly announced that Y/N would be attending a Friday night party as her guest, Chibs had taken extra care into his appearance that night.

He’d spent the first hours of the party nursing a shot and keeping his eyes on the crowd searching for Venus and her guest.

When they’d entered the party he’d not had time to approach them as Venus had led Y/N right to him. He’d spent the vast majority of that party attempting to woo her.

Shots had been shared and Chibs had offered to teach her to play pool. A joint had been shared on the roof when the party had grown a little too full of debauchery. 

He’d asked her on a date over a shared joint relieved that she had agreed to it.

They’d not looked back after that.

Y/N was someone he could trust. There was no push with her. It was all pull.

It was nothing like the pull he’d endured with Jarry. The pull from Jarry had always felt desperate, manipulative at times, starved, and frantic. Jarry had always pulled him back to her in ways that were steeped with panic, lust, and at times rage.

He’d lost count of the amount of times he had found himself pulled back towards Jarry after a at times physical altercation between the pair they winding up practically hate fucking.

The pull to Jarry always felt tinged with something rotten and unstable.

The pull towards Y/N felt comforting. He could best describe it as a sense of warmth and security. The pull towards her felt healing after all the pain and loss he’d endured. It felt peaceful. The pull towards her felt loving and accepting. He felt like he had found some sense of serenity. 

He felt his stomach turn fearing that Jarry was hoping to taint that sense of peace. 

Chibs pushed back the bottle of Jameson making a silent promise to himself that he would not allow his past to taint his future.

He refused to let Jarry take this away from him.

—-------------------------------

Their clothing lay strewn across her living room and down her hallway long forgotten. 

Chibs had come to her apartment intending to be mature and talk this out with her. His lips had met hers the second she’d opened the door though and talking had been forgotten for more pleasurable activities.

Y/N laid by his side they both nude resting under her bedsheets the AC flipping on making the room cooler than necessary.

She stared up at Chibs as he sat by her side, a magazine resting in his lap with rolling papers and a familiar baggie.

She spoke, rolling her eyes ever so slightly. “Don’t spill anything. I really don’t want to go through the hassle of trying to figure out how to get any bits of bud out of my bedsheets at this hour.”

“I’ve been rollin joints longer than ye been alive ye brat.” He remarked playfully, causing a soft laugh to leave her, she rolling her eyes again. 

“Our age difference isn’t that massive.”

He smirked, shaking his head fast to point it out. “There’s at least a decade there, Love. Aint sayin more so I don’t feel too fuckin dirty bout it.”

She spoke a sigh leaving her as she watched him make the final moves on rolling the perfect joint. “You liked it when I called you a dirty old man that one time. You were pretty vocal about how much you liked it.”

“I liked that ye were riding my cock and I was sayin so much filthy shite cause I was pussy drunk, Love. We are amazing at sayin filthy sinful shite in the moment. Pretty sure we established after our first time that we are both suckers for dirty talk.” He pointed out a snicker leaving his lips as he placed the magazine and baggie aside, finding a lighter and an ashtray she kept on the nightstand just for him.

She watched him place the joint between his lips and light it taking the initial first hit.

She reached out he passing it to her, allowing her to take her own drag from it.

They passed it back and forth silently for a long moment they both feeling the heavy relaxed sensation of a high wash over them. Chibs Telford always had the best pot. It was something she'd figured out quickly upon their first shared joint at that Friday night party months and months ago when he'd finally asked her on a date.

He finally put out the joint in the ashtray before he settled down back against her.

She snuggled close to him, his arms opening for her allowing her to rest her head against his chest.

The peaceful feeling didn’t last for long Y/N finally working up the nerve to say it. “Am I allowed to know the details about the history between you and the Bitch Sheriff and just why she’s pissed off enough to approach me about it?”

Chibs sighed knowing he had to follow Tig’s advice and be 100 percent open about it all. “Back when Jackie Boy was still…here…some shite went down with the former sheriff, man was murdered and a new sheriff came to town. Sheriff Jarry started sniffin round the club made it clear she was open to developing a profitable relationship with SAMCRO.”

“She’s a dirty cop?” Y/N asked decoding what he meant by a profitable relationship.

He sighed nodding his head as he spoke again. “She wasn’t jus interested in that though…she was interested in me.”

“So you dated?” She asked surprised by the information. She would have assumed that Chibs’ activities with SAMCRO would have made him wary of the cops.

Chibs sighed again, tempted to reach out and relight the joint to calm his nerves. “Not exactly…it wasn’ the mos traditional pairing, Love. We met traded intel fer cash…and we fucked. We developed a wee bit of a pattern; meetin up fer sex. Shite between us couldn’t be a fuckin normal relationship.”

“Would you have wanted it to be? Did you love her?” Y/N dared to ask a small frown crossing her features as she took in the information he’d just dropped in her lap.

Chibs sighed, rolling the question through his head before he spoke. “At times I thought I’d not mind it. There were wee moments of fondness. I might of started to fall fer her at times when things felt good, but shite was usually too destructive fer it to be love. I don't think it was love, at least fer me it wasn't…more often than not shite between us was fuckin toxic. We brought out nasty sides of each other…We fought a lot…not just verbal spats but there were a few physical fights. I always took pride in not bein the kind of lad that thinks it’s fair to hit a woman but she wasn’t afraid to hit me and I reacted in turn. We’d fight and fuck and never deal with the reality of what things were between us. It was exhausting and awful. So, no even if shite had been different and she wasn’t a cop, I don’t think I woulda wanted it to be a real relationship not fer long at least.”

He paused, relieved that she didn’t yank away from him at the mention of physical altercations. It was not something he was proud of. “She never could fuckin accept that shite between us was complicated. I wasn’ goin to leave SAMCRO and she wasn’ goin to stop bein a fuckin cop. We never could trust each other given our business arrangement. I couldn’t fuckin tell her anyhing without fearin she’d use it agains the club. She wasn’t fuckin tellin me a thing unless she got cash in her hand. She was never fuckin satisfied with the reality of what we were. She couldn’t make up her mind bout if she wanted shite with me to continue or wanted me gone. She would try to push me away in one breath and yank me back in another.”

He frowned his stomach in knots fearing what her reaction might be to all of this information when he was done. “I didn't love her. Nothin between us was fuckin love. I was miserable and shite with her was too complicated and too stressful to keep goin on. I’m the one who made the final push. I told her it was over, I ended shite. Told her the truth, that I don’t love her, she’s a fuckin cop and I’m a fuckin outlaw. Told her what happens to cops who wind up on the wrong side of SAMCRO. Made sure she knew shite between us had to end. I ended the arrangement between SAMCRO and her and the shite between us the only way I knew how…by tellin her the truth.”

“Do you think she loved you? Do you think it was ever something more for her?” Y/N dared to ask, thinking of her interaction with Jarry. It had screamed jealousy and heartbreak.

Chibs let out a heavy sigh shaking his head. “Not sure, she wasn’ exactly open bout how she felt. Most of her talkin to me was pushin fer info bout the club or pushin my buttons with her mind games bout if she wanted to break up with me or not. The…pyhysical aspect of our relationship mighta been good, and she was fun when she wasn’t playing fuckin mind games with me. The good moments were rare though. I’m glad it's over and to be honest…I regret it happened. I won’t lie, Love…shite between her and me started with Jax wanting me to keep her in SAMCRO’s pocket. It wasn’t a foundation fer anything good.”

He cringed, almost certain she would tell him it was too much, almost sure she’d deem him as some asshole for the latter part of his admission about using sex to keep Jarry in SAMCRO’s pocket.

She let out a heavy sigh shaking her head. “Should I be worried about her? She was trying to intimidate me by bringing up how unsafe SAMCRO is. Then when that didn’t work… It felt like she was trying to swing her dick around…remind me that she had you first. She seems a little too interested in trying to start shit with me. Something tells me that having a fucking cop as my sworn enemy isn’t going to do me any favors especially considering who I’m dating.”

“Ye ain got nothin to worry bout. If she starts shite with ye, let me handle it.” Chibs insisted squeezing her a little closer to him, a protective tone entering his voice.

It was a feeling he was accustomed to having with her; protective.

She gave him a crooked smile fast to speak. “I will handle it before you do, trust me, Filip. I felt like she was going out of her way to almost…play some kind of juvenile mean girl game with me…I don’t like bullies. I can’t promise I won’t throw a punch before I call you if she ever tries to push my buttons again.”

He chuckled a somewhat proud smirk crossing his lips at the comment. He pressed a kiss to the top of her head daring to ask. “How are ye feelin bout…everything I just told ye?”

“We all have our pasts, Filip. I mean…we are both divorcees.” Y/N pointed out the comment making his stomach turn well aware of the history between his girlfriend and her ex husband.

It had come up pretty soon in their romantic relationship; the reason behind why Y/N had moved so much in the past decade and why she had considered even changing her last name.

He felt his stomach turn his mind more focused on the thoughts of her ex and the traumatic history there as she spoke again. “I think we both have crazy exes.”

She paused, not giving him long to focus on the comment as she spoke again. “At least I like your ex wife.”

He let out a huff still stunned that Fiona Larkin had taken an approving shine to Y/N.

The meeting had been forced as Kerrianne had wanted to visit her da in the states four months before and Fiona was wary even if Kerrianne was legally an adult now.

Chibs didn’t blame her given the seedy business SAMCRO was involved in with Redwoody and the danger that came with his world.

He had resisted the urge to argue that Fiona’s world with the True IRA was just as dangerous and had instead brought up the fact that his girlfriend had a normal safe job and would look out for Kerrianne if something came up.

Fiona had of course insisted that she must meet this girlfriend if she were to trust her child with her.

Chibs had resisted the urge to argue and be upset that she seemingly did not trust his judgment.

So, a facetime call had been set between Y/N and Fiona with Chibs nervously pacing outside the room after Fiona had insisted that he didn’t need to be hovering over the women as they talked.

He had been dumbfounded that the talk had gone well and Fiona had given Y/N such glowing praise. The two had developed a cordial and even friendly relationship given that it was becoming obvious that Y/N was here to stay and would be involved in Kerrianne’s life.

He spoke a huff leaving him at the comment. “Fuckin funny.”

Y/N gave him a crooked smile unable to stop herself from teasing him. “It’s true though, if you ever piss me off I’m packing my bags up and going to Belfast.”

He managed to give her backside a swat working a giggle from her as he spoke. “Aint fuckin losin ye to my ex wife. Even if I piss ye off I’m doin what it takes to keep ye around.”

She smiled at the comment, her lips pressing to his cheek recalling his earlier comment. “I’m not going anywhere, even if you are a dirty old man.”

He gave her backside another swat, his lips eagerly pressing to hers as he spoke. “Not too old to make ye moan my name.”

“I know, I do have a love for antiques though given my line of work.” She snarked back the comment earning her another kiss, he turning her over onto her back, his lips pressing to hers.

He moved over her with ease his lips pressing down her body. She let out a soft pleased sigh at the sensation. He spoke his lips soft against her skin the words leaving him. “Gonna show ye that I aint an antique yet.”

She let out a soft moan enjoying the press of his lips to her skin and the scratch of his facial hair against her. She had never had a more determined nor a more passionate lover than Chibs Telford.

All thoughts of Sheriff Jarry faded from Y/N’s mind as she soaked up the love Chibs gave her.

Y/N had no intention of letting anything nor anyone take the love Chibs showed her away.

[garbinge]

Maybe One Day

Chibs Telford x F!Teller!Reader

Summary: You go back to Charming 10 years after… everything.

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Angsty. Mentions of death, murder, emotional distress, emotionally heavy.

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc @justreblogginfics

A/N: I wrote this on my phone so don’t mind any odd formatting or editing mistakes!

Part 2

The moment you crossed into the town line you felt the heaviness overcome you. It was like there was this smog that only existed within the miles of town, one foot outside that sign that held the town founding year and population and it was like fresh air. But currently you were being suffocated as the odometer added mile after mile as you drove deeper into Charming.

It was like looking at an old photograph, not much had changed in most parts. There was still the main street strip, some of the stores definitely were new, but the street felt the same. You noticed the lack of loud, rumbling motors, lack of two wheeled engines parked along the curb. But early on that had been how it was before Scoops turned into the new head quarters for the Sons of Anarchy. It had been 10 years since you’d been back here, so it was likely the original club stomping grounds were back in commission.

You had told yourself you weren’t going to find out if that were true but you currently were parked just outside the automotive shop to see a new black warehouse like space where the old blue one used to be. The paint didn’t look too fresh where SOA was stencilled on but it looked new enough to you as you leaned against the black cutlass.

One thing and one thing only. It was the sentence you repeated in your head over and over as you drove hours back home. Back home, that felt like a heavy statement. Charming might have been where you grew up, but it wasn’t home. Despite it being where you’ve lived most in your life, it wasn’t home. One thing and one thing only. You knew that wasn’t true every time the thought ran in your head. It was inevitable that you’d come here, that you’d stop at the rocky mounted highway where JT’s memorial was. Where the helmet and sunglasses of the other Teller still lay abandoned.

You were just supposed to grab the last few things at the house before the closing date. The realtor handled everything else, the listing pictures, the calls with interested buyers, you had hired people to straighten up and you had put mostly everything else in storage 10 years ago, but there was one thing that was still in that house that no one else could get but you.

You didn’t put the house on the market until a month ago. It was an assumption but you figured the club was going to use the house for whatever shady business or reasons, it’s why you were happy you had a confirmed buyer that first week of putting the blue house on the market. All it took was one day and one tour by your realtor before the offer came in. But that sped up your timeline. It was likely that was why you pushed this out so far, dreading the thought of coming out here and going to the kitchen drawer and grabbing that pocket notebook that you hid in the false bottom of it.

Now that notebook was weighing heavy in your back pocket but it was fitting considering the weight of the air. You saw people in TM work shirts moving around, the weight of the word Teller staring down at you even from the street. That was all Charming ever did, weigh heavy on you.

You thought of the words you repeated over and over again. One thing and one thing only. What a lie. You scoffed slightly as if the conversation you were having in your head was actually happening outloud.

A few more thoughts popped into your head, each from someone this town had an effect on. Both statements weighing heavy on you because what else would thoughts about Charming be.

The one Hale spoke to Jax when you were younger. “It wont be long before SAMCRO is just an ugly memory in the history of charming.” Something felt unsettling there, unfortunately Hale died before he could see that come to light and as you stared at the new SAMCRO compound you had to think you probably would too.

Then Wendy’s voice came to your head, “The MC, this town, it kills all the shit you love.” She was right before shit even hit the fan. Although, shit was always hitting the fan so she was just on the pulse of Charming before any one else even bothered to look. You had lost everyone to Charming—to the club. Yes, you had Abel and Thomas still, but it was different, everyone you had in your family during your young life was gone. Tara, Jax, Gemma, Opie. The list went on.

But before you could continue the list you heard a familiar voice. The voice of the one person you hadn’t technically lost to the reaper but you most certainly lost to Charming and SAMCRO.

You hated how the voice made your heart happy. You hated how it managed to make every ounce of heaviness disappear and flee to the deep depths of the town and would only surface when you were left alone. But as you heard his voice again it made you wish you never would be alone again. It made you think for the briefest of seconds that maybe you could back out of the offer, move into the house that was now in your name and create a life here. Charming was home after all.

No. No. Charming was not home. The quick rational part of your brain quickly jolted you back to reality. That weight quickly rising from the ground and pulling at your ankles as a reminder that the town’s grip would suffocate you. But there it was again, the interruption that pulled the weight off your ankles and had you feeling as light as a feather.

“Love?”

The name he called you for years, whether it was in public or when you were tangled up in the sheets felt like a breath of fresh air in this smothering town. It wasn’t a nickname solely for you, you heard him say it to many women in your years of knowing him, and he probably had a fair share of women now he used the name on.

But that didn’t stop your knees from wanting to buckle. You turned and saw him, it was ironic that in your years of hanging in this club house, at TM, you had never seen Chibs on the street in front of the club HQ. Most guys parked inside, the street parking was reserved for excess cars who were there for service and for on lookers like yourself, although they usually tended to be wearing badges.

“Mother of Christ.” His accent was thick as he lifted his sunglasses up and off his face. His feet were moving towards you.

He didn’t think twice before engulfing you in a hug. You had thought about this moment a lot, going over all the different ways it could go. In one of the scenarios you thought he’d pause immediately front of you, stare at you like a stranger. There was something so relieving that he was hugging you like the past 10 years hadn’t existed, that no matter what happened he still cared about you, was happy to see you.

“Chibs!” A voice interrupted your embrace and you wanted to murder them. Funny how being in Charming made homicide an instant thought.

Chibs pulled away and that’s when the Scottish cologne hit you, a smile filling your face as he looked back to the person in the TM lot.

“Church in 10!”

You looked at the patch on his kutte immediately at those words and saw the president patch. It sent bile to your throat, it was the patch Jax wore for years. Not figuratively, but literally. It was the exact patch he wore, some of the stains on it were likely from his time wearing it. You didn’t stay here long enough to see it sit on Chibbs’ kutte but seeing it now was transporting you back 10 years.

“Why don’t y’come int’the clubhouse darlin’, have a drink, we can talk.” He looked older, the bags under his eyes were dark and puffy. You could tell the club life was affecting him, his hair was graying way more and it made him even more attractive.

“I shouldn’t.” You shook your head and doubled down, “I can’t.”

The second two worded statement you spoke is what made Chibs understand, a nod escaping from his head.

“It’s good t’see ye’.” He was trying to keep it light, he knew how hard this was.

“I’m selling the house.” You said it so business like, it was a way to give him the heads up to let the club know. You saw some traces of them being there, not frequently but enough. Cigarette buds in the ashtrays around the furniture that was left, empty beer bottles in the recycling bin. You knew Chibs made sure whoever came by knew to clean up after.

Chibs just nodded and looked down. “Y’happy?”

How were you supposed to be happy after Charming took every last thing that you loved. You thought for a minute and the faces of your nephews flashed in your mind and you smiled.

“The boys are teenagers. I don’t know if you can be happy with teenagers.” You joked.

Chibs grinned at the mention of Thomas and Abel.

You wanted to ask him if he was happy but you were afraid of the answer. You saw what the club presidency did to the person in the role before him. You saw what it had done to the other Teller in the same position just a decade before. It made you think about JT and his legacy for a moment. You always wondered if JT was just exemplified as this great person because he wasnt alive to be rememebered for his flaws. But then you remembered Gemma and Clay and how they only remembered JT for his flaws. Your mind instantly went to Jax who had killed both Clay and Gemma, and what his legacy was. If he’d be exemplified just because he was gone and his flaws would be forgotten. Your eyes moved to the newer clubhouse and saw the small memorial that was on the roof. There was white air forces perched on the edge where Jax would very often sit and reflect. That solidified it for you, he’d be seen as Jax Teller, son of JT, president of SOA, an honor to have known and loved him for the guys who were in the club when he reigned as VP and president. But then your eyes fell back on Chibs, the hope that since he knew the flaws that essentially led to the death of your brother, he’d lead differently while still respecting his legacy in the eyes of the club.

“You rebuilt.” You pointed to the building trying to erase that long heavy thought from your mind.

“Ice cream and hookers were too distracting for the guys.” He teased in reference to Scoops and Red Woody. “You sure you don’t want to come in, love? Church won’t take long, I’ll give y’my dorm while y’wait.”

It was a convincing offer. You wanted to see what Chibs’ dorm looked like, what life was like for him. But deep down you knew you already knew what it looked like because you lived it. You lived it and you hated it. You loved him but hated the life.

“No just came to get this.” You pulled the pocket notebook out and flapped it in the air.

Chibs knew exactly what that was and nodded in understanding.

“Chibs!” The same voice called out again.

“He’ll be in in a second!” You called out, eyes still glued on the Scot in front of you.

The prospect shut up quickly and moved back inside. You wondered how he’d describe you to the members inside, there was only a handful that could potentially recognize you from description, and an even smaller handful that would come out to see for themselves.

“I wanted to give it to Abel. I think he deserves to know Jax the way Jax wanted him to.” You explained the notebook that Chibbs knew all about between the time when Jax was writing it and when you had told him where you’d put it.

“It was really good ta see y’love.”

Despite everything shitty about being back, it was true for you too. It was great seeing him. You wished you could ask him to leave, come stay with you on your humble farm, sell fresh eggs with you at the farmers market and ride dirt bikes with the boys. But it was the same reason he never asked you to stay here. Sure he might’ve asked you to come in for a drink but the words “stay in Charming” would never come from his mouth. He knew it was too painful.

He pulled you in for another hug and you didn’t want to let go. The drink wasn’t sounding half bad, you wanted to catch up, hear about what he’s up to, how he’s been, but the answers you’d want to hear would never come and the one’s you dreaded to hear would be the only one’s that filled your ears.

As you pulled out of the embrace you squeezed his arm in a way to tell him the same about seeing him without actually saying it and then you quickly turned back to your car. Chibs was walking away now, his hand reaching up to wipe the couple stray tears he’d never admit to shedding and dropping his sunglasses back down.

You called out one last time to him, an impulsive decision and impulsive thought meeting together at the tip of your tongue.

“If Abel comes here, push him out. Don’t welcome him in.”

Chibs was frozen at the request and then he nodded in understanding.

“I’ll send ‘em right back to th’farm so his auntie can talk some sense into ‘em.” It was a humorous statement but it gave you relief because Chibs wouldn’t lie to you.

“You can tell him about Jax. The Jax you knew. The Jax we wanted him to be.”

It was just like you to have the most mundane small talk conversation at close range where whispers could be exchanged and this important one where voices carried.

“I won’t.” At first you thought he misheard you and you were going to correct him when he spoke up. “If he’s anything like his ol’ man, he’ll want to become the man we wanted him to be, and we’ve already seen how that plays out.”

You thought it was impossible to feel seen in Charming. To feel heard. You thought it was impossible for someone in the club to speak this way about it. About past members. It was probably one of the many things about Chibs that made you love him, his honesty, his care for the Teller family. It gave you a little hope.

“There’s always room for you at the farm.” You said as Chibs was walking backwards. Getting closer to the club but still staring in your direction. You saw the curly haired man appear from the clubhouse building, about to call Chibs’ name when he spotted you. You knew he’d hear the prospect talk and be outside to see for himself, using Chibs as the excuse.

Your hand raised and waved at Tig like you had just seen him yesterday. He immediately raised his hand waved and you heard his laugh crystal clear from where you were and stared back at Chibs for a response to your invitation.

“Maybe one day, love. Maybe one day.”

Part 2

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Hi 💕 Can I get an 18. with Jax? 🥹 Maybe like a friends to lovers kind of thing 🫣 Thank you so much ❤️ (and I'm sorry for not reading the rules the first time around 😬)

Hey, no worries! And yes you can!

Slight smut below the cut, minors DNI!

Your head shoots up off the pillow as a wave of panic rises within you at hearing a noise coming from the kitchen, flinging the covers back, about to reach for your baseball bat and prime yourself ready to face the intruder... until you remember. Jax is there.

"Sorry," he apologises as you pad into the kitchen, finding him placing the items he dropped from your cupboard back into their designated places. "I can't sleep, so I was looking for that knockout tea you're always telling me about. You got any?"

You shake your head, reaching to help him place the packets back upon the shelves. "I don't, I ran out."

He lets out a sigh, scratching his forehead with his thumb. "Well, I'm all out of ideas on how the fuck I'm meant to fall asleep."

You raise your eyebrow, your finger running along the waistband of his boxers. "Really? Because I'm not. If you can’t sleep, I could help with that?” 

His eyes widen a fraction. "Seriously, you and me?"

"Yeah," you state, feeling a flicker of regret for a second, until he reaches for your waist. "I mean, we're both young, free and single."

He snorts softly. "You're young. I'm a hundred and forty-two, or at least I feel it." His grin begins to grow as you giggle, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss upon your lips. "Come on then, darlin'. Take me to bed and fuck me into unconsciousness."

Half an hour later, and that's exactly what you're doing, making him come so hard that mere seconds after you climb from the most perfect cock you've ever had the pleasure of taking inside you, he's fast asleep.

Mission accomplished. And you got an orgasm out of it, too.

[undiscovered-horizon]

Imagine one of the prospects hitting on you.

The clock behind the bar ticks but it's not audible over the music playing in the background. It wouldn't matter much even if it was - it shows the wrong time. The dust on its glass cover lays in a decently thick layer, similar to at least a dozen bottles on the shelf behind the bar.

You're slowly sipping on your drink. All the ice has already melted making the beverage taste mostly like an old freezer and tap water but you don't mind it, really. It is, after all, just a way to pass the time waiting for Jax to show up. Although you're not fond of that, you've grown used to it. Considering his line of business, there's not much he can do about it.

And there's not much you can do aside from waiting.

"Whatcha' doin' here all alone, doll?"

The voice belongs to a tall, lean man leaning against the bar just a few feet from you. He has chiselled features and well-kempt hair as though he mostly sits around. The leather vest he's wearing looks worn out and reused. A small patch on the front says "Prospect". His left forearm is covered with a tattoo of a mountain lion.

"Actually, I'm waiting for someone," you answer politely. To be fair, prospects hardly ever talk to you.

"Here?" he looks around the deteriorating and completely deserted clubhouse. "Must be a real gentleman to make ya wait on him, darlin'," he says sarcastically. A dry chuckle leaves his lips.

You furrow your eyebrows. "I'm so-"

Someone behind you puts a hand around you, the arm lays heavy on your shoulders. The mixture of sweat, motor oil and cologne is all too familiar.

"You can bet your ass he ain't," you hear Jax answer. You can't see his face, so you can only imagine the cold stare he surely has on his face. "Ready to go?" he turns to you.

"Sure thing." Leaving the warm drink unfinished and wetting the counter, you get up from the stool and let Jax guide you towards the door.

But then he stops with his face maybe a palm's length away from the prospect. Jax chuckles quietly, although his eyes show nothing resembling amusement. The prospect stares at him expressionless, if a little reluctant.

"This better be the last time," Jax warns him. To put him down another peg, he pats the man's face in a condescending manner.

Without waiting for the prospect's answer, the two of you leave the clubhouse, off to continue whatever plans you have for today.

[ravennaortiz]

Prompt 2& 11 for chibs please 🥰😊

You want this handsome Scotsman here? With prompts 2: I'm not the right man for you and 11: I'm not enough for you?.......Done!!!! I hope you enjoy this little dish. Feel free to stop by anytime!

As always 18+

Proven Wrong

The flash of hurt in yours eyes stung Chibs as he tried to let you down gently. You were one of his best friends daughter and you deserved so much more than an old outlaw biker. "It's not ye Lass. Your gorgeous and deserve the world. It's me I'm the problem" explained Chibs as he watched your eyes shine with unshed tears as he held you at arms length.

"I want you though" you whispered as a tear finally escaped down your cheek as you looked up at Chibs with a pout. "I'm not enough for you. You need yourself a nice young man who can get you out of this town. Who can buy you everything you want and keep you out of danger" stated Chibs gently as he tried to ignore the urge to kiss your tears away.

You had caught him off guard tonight. Showing up unexpected in a coat and nothing else had almost made him putty in your hands finally. But he had managed to regain his resolve and put a stop to this before it went farther than it should.

"What if I want an experienced man who can keep me in this town....beneath him?" you questioned as you blinked up at him through your lashes as you wet your lips. "Dammit. Stop that" growled Chibs as he closed his eyes at the image your siren call had provoked in his mind. "I'm not the right man for you." stated Chibs as he let you go and stepped back putting distance between the two of you.

"You could be though" you replied lowly as you let the coat you had on slide to the floor before turning and making your way to his bedroom. "I'm surely going to hell" mumbled Chibs after a moment before following after you all his resolve broken.

Want more Chibs? Click here

Want to see how to make your own request? Click here

[mysticalmallard]

MainMasterlist || Rules & Requests

🦆:I'm working on something right now and wanted to give you guys a sneak peak. It's for a Happy x OC I'm working on it's in the editing stage right now but I'm really happy with it I hope you guys will like it too

When she locked eyes with Happy, he got distracted. So distracted, he stopped looking where he was stepping and didn't see the curb...

"MOTHERFUCKER!!!" Happy shouted as he lost his footing falling forward landing on the boxes crushing all the flowers stacked neatly inside. Definitely not the ideal first impression he wanted to make.

🦆: I finished!! click here to read

[writingplotbunnies]

Best Served Cold (Part 8/?)

Pairing: Jax Teller x OFC

Summary: Sophie gets her delivery, but someone follows her to the pickup.

Word Count: ~2900

Warnings: angst, illegal activity, possessive behavior, sexual content, canon typical violence

The California midday sun beamed down on the desolate spot of land in the middle of nowhere. Gleaming in the sunlight, it sat on a folded table. Two men stood behind it, arms crossed against their chest, dark shades covering their eyes. Sophie licked her lips, fingers twitching at her sides. An old Gunny she’d worked with once told her she’d never forget the feel of one in her hands, that she’d find herself reaching for one when her hands had been empty for too long. She’d been young then - green. Foolishly thought the actions she’d be forced to take wouldn’t change her, that she’d come out the other side the same person she’d been going into it all. Even now, she didn’t know if she should hate the Corps for the parts of her they stripped away, if she should demand a return - offer the parts they’d replaced her with for the parts they’d taken. Most days she figured it didn’t matter too much in the end. Even if she could get it back, her old skin wouldn’t fit right anymore. 

“As promised,” Laroy said, a smile on his face as he presented the weapon to her. 

“Damn,” Sophie smiled. “And it’s not even my birthday.” 

One of Laroy’s men moved in closer to her. She eyed him. Laroy shook his head, and he stopped. 

“You know I’m armed, Laroy,” Sophie said, voice tinged with exasperation. “If I’d wanted to cause you harm, I wouldn't have rolled up with a smile on my face and this bag of cash in my hands.” 

Laroy nodded. “Not used to dealing with your type. Boys are just a little itchy is all.” 

She nodded. It tracked since she doubted there were many women like her at all. 

“Said you wanted to try the product, and I’d be lyin’ if I didn’t say I was very interested in a demonstration. So,” Laroy grinned. “I took the liberty of settin’ up a bit of a challenge course for you.” 

A slow smile spread across Sophie’s face. Turning to face Laroy she inclined her head towards the table. 

“May I?” 

Laroy looked to the two guys behind the table and gestured to them. They moved around to the other side, came to flank Laroy. He held out his arm towards the weapon. 

“Be my guest.” 

Placing the duffle bag below the table, Sophie reached up towards the weapon. She ran her hands along the stock, down the barrel - a tingle of excitement raced up her spine. Lifting it into her arms, she did a quick run-through. Releasing the magazine, she cleared the weapon visually before sliding everything back into place. Part of her wanted to shout “locked and loaded” just to imagine her training officer’s face before having her do push-ups until her arms gave out, but she resisted. Instead, she dropped to her knees and set the Barrett M82A1 on the ground in front of her. Settling in, she opened the scope. 

She could see the targets Laroy had set up for her. A fair distance away, but nothing she hadn’t dealt with before. Behind her, she could hear shuffling, mumbled conversations, but she blocked them out, narrowed her focus to the air moving through her lungs. Sighting the first target, she took a breath and squeezed the trigger. Like riding a bike. She quickly moved through the rest of the twelve targets she’d spotted before clearing the weapon and standing to her feet. 

Laroy stared at her as though reassessing everything he thought he knew about the universe. His face didn’t give much away, but she could read it in his eyes. The guys who’d come with him kept stealing glances at her, dancing on their feet a bit. 

“Money’s all there, but I understand if you want to count it while I pack this baby back up.” 

Nodding slowly, Laroy stroked a hand down his chin. “You say it’s all there,” he shrugged. “It’s all there.” 

Sophie turned back to the table and began to disassemble the rifle before putting it into the case. 

“Seems you’ve settled into Charming nicely.” 

Sophie chuckled. She snapped the latches and hauled the case from the table to rest by her feet. Turning to face him, she settled her sunglasses back on her face. “That a question? Or we just making small talk?” 

“You know we do business with the Sons.” 

Sophie inclined her head. She might not have done all the pre-planning she should have, but she did enough to make sure her supply line wasn't going to blow up in her face. While she knew street alliances were held together with a spit and a prayer at most, she also knew it was the best option. 

“Told you I don’t shit where I eat.” 

“They know you doin’ business with us?”

Sophie sighed. “Not sure it’s any of their concern.” 

Laroy tilted his head, stroked his thumb along his jaw. “And if the Sons were to make it their concern?” 

“Seems like I’d have a situation to deal with. Not sure what it would have to do with you.” 

“Just so we’re clear, sweetheart, I like business with you. It’s straightforward, but this thing with the Sons, well, those lines aren’t always straight. Not looking for anyone to be caught where they ain’t supposed to be.” 

“I told you my bullets weren't for you. I typically only shoot at people who are shooting at me first.”

“Typically?”

Sophie smirked. “Man in your line of work understands the importance of both clarity and avoiding the use of absolutes. It’s been my experience that not much is guaranteed in this life, no matter how you play it.” 

“I can respect that.” 

“Good. Good.” Sophie nodded to herself. “We both know how this goes, Mr. Wayne. I expect you to protect yours same as I’d protect mine, but before you start thinking about making things less straight, ask yourself who is gonna be better at protecting their own. I’ve no need for more enemies in my life. They’re a nuisance and a waste of my time. Bad blood isn’t good for anyone’s bottom line. And dead bodies don’t make anyone any money.” 

Laroy chuckled. “Damn. Seems you know how this world works. I like your style, girl.” 

“Pleasure doing business with you.” 

Sophie held out her hand. Laroy took it and gave it a shake. “Likewise.”

One of Laroy’s men came up, whispered in his ear. Sophie felt their eyes on her as they continued to exchange hushed words. Face drawn into a frown, Laroy gave his guy a friendly clap on the shoulder before sending him off. 

“Seems you have a tail.”

Sophie felt her eyes widen. She’d been so careful about leaving town, about having a solid story for being out of Charming in case anyone were to ask about her. Maybe Zobelle had one of his men following her now? 

“My guys tell me a couple of Sons came through Oakland. Seems they were looking for you. One of them saw your car. They know we met.” 

“Damn,” Sophie swore. “I’ll take care of it. Seems I’ve got a situation to deal with.” 

As though on cue, her phone rang. Glancing down, she saw Jax’s name flash. Offering Laroy a wry grin, she brought the phone to her ear. 

“Hey Jax.”

Laroy returned her grin.  

“Wanna tell me why I got a call from Happy tellin’ me you’re in Oakland?”

“No. Wanna tell me why you’ve got people following me?” 

“You know why. Happy’s gonna follow you back into Charming. Don’t argue with me.” 

“I don’t need an escort, Jax. I can take care of myself.” 

“This isn’t a discussion, babe. You can tell me what the fuck you’re doing with the Niners when you get to TM.”  

“Screw you, Jax.”

Sophie hung up the phone. It immediately started ringing again. Glazing down, seeing that it was Jax, Sophie sighed before turning off the ringer and shoving it into her pocket. 

“Looks like I’ve got some domestic challenges to go deal with. The Sons have someone tailing me, and I didn’t know about it, or I would have told you. We square?” 

Laroy had an amused look on his face. “Can’t blame a man for wanting to keep his woman safe.” 

“Never said I was his woman.” 

Laroy inclined his head. “He seems to think you are.” 

“Either way, I can take care of myself. Now, I’ve got a trigger-happy babysitter to go take care of, so if we’re good, I’ll go move my issues out of your hair.” 

“We good,” Laroy said with a slow nod of his head. “Lemme know if you need to do any more shopping. I like what ends up on your list.” 

Sophie chuckled under her breath. Loading the case into the trunk of her car Sophie sighed. Driving away from the middle of nowhere, she realized it felt a little nice to know someone cared about her enough to send a tail. Of course, this same someone was of the chest-pounding grunting instead of speaking words variety, but he had a nice ass so she could forgive a lot. She’d told Jax nearly everything about Olivia, about Michael. Of course, she’d left out the details about her job with the Corps, mostly out of habit because just about every mission had been deemed classified. As saw the bike pull up behind her Charger as she drove through the less gentrified parts of Oakland, she also realized she’d neglected to tell Jax anything about her plans to shoot Zobelle between the eyes with the weapon she just picked up from the Niners. Those small details of her plan that might bite her in the ass kept piling up. 

When the bike started flashing her, she slowed and pulled to the side of the road. Rolling her window down she waited for whoever Jax sent to come up to her car. A frown creased her face as she recognized Happy approaching her door. While she didn’t know the ins and outs of SAMCRO, she knew the look in the man’s eye, recognized the way he held himself. Quiet, tightly coiled aggression just waiting for a reason to spring free. 

“You following me all day?” Sophie asked as Happy leaned against her door. 

“Until your ass is back at TM.” 

Sophie nodded. “Got a stop to make first. Rough terrain might fuck up the suspension.”

Happy didn’t say anything, but he did nod. It was enough for Sophie. She rolled the window up and took off down the highway, smiling as she watched Happy rush back to his bike in an effort to keep her in sight. He caught up easily enough, and she hadn’t been trying to lose him - just make him work for it. The closer she got to her nest, the more her skin crawled. Knowing someone else knew unsettled her in ways that she didn’t think she was still capable of. Even when she’d been deployed there’d been a tacit understanding about how things worked. She grit her teeth at the idea of finding a new location. 

Ignoring Happy’s presence, or at least pretending to, Sophie parked next to the door and pulled the case from the trunk. Setting it by her feet, she unlocked the door and pulled it open. Happy let out a low whistle from somewhere behind her. The place was stocked with hardware and supplies that had been easier and more legal to acquire. Some were items she’d retrofit and modify to create new custom items for her mission. Lifting the case onto a shelf near the back, she slid her hands across the front, a smile crossing her lips. Things might not have gone exactly to plan, but she had nearly everything she needed to get rid of Zobelle. 

“How many?”

Spinning on her heel, Sophie turned to face Happy. She wanted to feign ignorance, act like she didn’t understand what he was asking her, but she couldn’t. Not when he had that look on his face. Her shoulders slumped as she pressed her eyes closed, memories flashing behind her lids. 

“Celebrated my first kill with a virgin Piña Colada because the bar near the base had nearly been shut down a few months earlier due to serving minors. They checked each of us, and my fake ID didn’t make the cut. Not old enough to drink, but old enough to get paid legal money to kill someone whose name I never even knew.”

She didn’t see any pity in Happy’s eyes as he studied her, and no matter what else happened, she’d always appreciate that. He stood stone still, only his eyes moving as they took her in, searching for something. 

“How many?”

“Sixteen confirmed kills.” 

Happy’s eyes narrowed. “How many?” 

Sophie shook her head gently before turning her back to him. She lifted the bottom of her shirt just enough for him to get a glimpse of her tattoos. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw his jaw tick as he seemed to count the petals. Smart boy. 

“One petal for each,” Sophie said, voice soft. “There are 29 petals.” 

His fingers on her skin startled her. Goosebumps erupted as he traced the petals with a whisper-soft touch. 

“Jax know?” 

“He knows I was a Marine. Knows what brought me here. Didn’t think he needed to know everything.”  

“You don’t trust him,” Happy said as he tugged her shirt down.

It wasn’t a question, and he wasn’t exactly wrong, but it made her feel defensive nonetheless. She did trust him more than most, probably more than she should. Still, even she knew it wasn’t enough, not when Happy said it so matter of factly. The MC brotherhood worked on trust, on absolute trust - she hadn’t had that sort of thing in years. 

“I don’t trust him to let me deal with my demons in my own way. I didn’t come to Charming to get help from the likes of Jax Teller and his outlaw biker gang.”

“You’re his Old Lady.” 

Sophie barked out a bitter laugh. “That’s what I’ve heard, but I never agreed to that. We barely know each other, and like you said, I don’t trust him. Not with this. He’ll make it his business, his job to protect me, and I can’t have that. Not this time. I won’t let him risk the MC for me.” 

“You meeting with the Niners could have put the MC at risk.” 

“A calculated risk. You’re on good terms with them. I don’t shit where I eat.”

“You meeting with the Niners could have put your relationship with Jax at risk.” 

She froze as his words registered in her brain. The full weight of Happy being here of seeing everything hit her with the force of a tank. Honestly, she liked Charming, liked her silly office job at the station - she’d spent so many months thinking she’d lost everything, that she’d gained new things to lose without taking the time to recognize it. Olivia would have a knowing look on her face, the “I told you so” unspoken between them, but Sophie would be able to read it in her eyes. Even Michael had told her to leave it be, but she couldn’t. Something in her chest pinched at the thought of just walking away.

“I can’t allow him to live.” 

“Who?”

Sophie looked at Happy, searched his eyes for something. She envied his poker face because he gave nothing away. However she answered his question would change everything, she knew it in her gut. She’d never once stopped to think about after. A time after Zobelle was dead hadn’t existed until this moment. Her career was over. Going home would be complicated at best. Which left Charming. Jax. SAMCRO. If she allowed herself, she could see it. See a future where she was Jax’s Old Lady, well, maybe not the silent, ask-no-questions type he expected, but she’d stand at his shoulder through whatever came at them. Lying would ensure her revenge, but at what cost? Lies killed as easily as bullets. If she lied now, that future would be forever tainted. 

“Zobelle.” 

Sophie pushed the name past her lips on a rush of air as her knees gave out. Happy caught her just before she crashed to the floor. 

“Zobelle went after Gemma, threatened the Club. He’s going down.” 

Sophie shook her head. “That’s exactly what he wants, and if you do it the way I know you want to - the way I see it in your eyes, he’ll take you down before you know what hit you. I’ve seen it before, and I won’t let it happen again. I’ll shoot you myself before I let that happen.” 

“Jax needs to know.” 

Sophie nodded. “He knows everything except my deal with the Niners and my little nest here. Oh and the number of bodies I’ve dropped - he doesn’t know that either, but he’s seen the tattoo.” 

Happy’s phone rang. He glanced up at her before turning to answer it. Sophie glanced around her nest, wondered at the sharp turn her life had taken today. She’d been to war before - real ones with politics and lines drawn on maps and stakes she understood but wasn’t overly concerned by because she was part of a larger machine. As she heard Happy tell who she assumed was Jax that he’d found her and was bringing her home, she realized SAMCRO would go to war with or without her - and she’d be damned if she allowed them to leave her behind.

Master List

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆  

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2k Warnings: swears

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

Two weeks had gone by, and you weren’t sure where you stood with Jax.

   He had offered Skeeter two weeks’ worth of pay so you could take some time off; something that you knew nothing about. Skeeter had portrayed it as “keeping his employees mentally stable.” But you could smell something was off about it. Especially since it was paid time off, something that had never happened with your boss before.

    It took practically an intervention with Tig, Happy and Chibs to get you to stay at home. To make sure the trauma didn’t dig itself deeper into your psyche.

 That first week had been awful. In order to move forward you had to process what had happened. Your mental fortitude was strong, your past made it so. But still, this was what Jax was talking about. The horrors that could happen at any moment. 

  You did have help though. Barely left alone, Happy was stationed outside your door during night, taking you to your shifts and escorting you come. During the day Tig would come by and see if everything was alright. And if the other’s had time, they would pop in as well.

 Jax had come by a few times. Not for long, and not with many words either. You had no idea what to say to each other. That passion you had for one another still felt hot between you.

 It was in that second week that you had made up your mind.

This was it; this was going to be your life. The Club. And you knew you had to tell Jax, let him know your decision in person. For some reason, it felt right. 

                                                          - ✦ -

The weather was warmer than usual this morning as you got out of your car and walked into Teller Morrow mechanics. You weren’t completely sure Jax would be there, but it wouldn’t be a wasted journey; your car could always use a looking to.

   You had just gotten out of your car when you saw them.

Wendy, with her long beautiful blonde hair, wearing heeled boots and tight jeans. She looked like every man’s dream. In each hand she held one of Jax’s sons. Blonde hair and tanned skin, they were taking after their father. There was a pang in your chest. And a thought popped up in your mind – motherhood. It was an outlandish notion, but your mind had found its way there anyhow.

  Could you be a stepmother? If … by any sort of chance, you and Jax got together. Would you be able to step into that role; as mother?

(Play Nancy From Now On by Father John Misty)

Your thoughts were ripped from your brain by a heartbreaking sight. Jax held Wendy close. It was an intimate embrace, and you knew about their history, but when he pulled back and kissed her cheek... It felt like a punch to the gut. Closeness to another woman shouldn’t affect you like this. He was... well, he was your boss! For god sake you weren’t supposed to be feeling like this.

 But escaping was too late now, Gemma had been watching you from the office window and as soon as you made a move to leave, she called you over.

    Shit. You thought, trying not to let your emotions show on your face.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” she called from underneath the large Teller Morrow sign. You stood in the carpark; feeling like a deer in headlights.

  And yet, you never ran from a fight, a confrontation or in this case … the devil herself.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you slammed the door behind you and walked over to Gemma.

                                                       - ✦ -

All you heard were boots on gravel, even as Jax greeted you. Something in you wanted to curse him out, to growl hatred words at him; jealousy was an ugly thing. But you also felt like he didn’t really do anything wrong. But looking at them together, when you had all these confusing feelings … it hurt more than it should.

 You smiled down at each of Jax’s boys. Their innocent eyes looking up at you with curiosity and intimidation. 

   Wendy waved goodbye just as you reached them. You could have sworn she flicked her hair behind her shoulder and swayed her hips as she walked away. 

 Trying to focus on something else, you crouched down, and offered your hand to both boys. 

“Well hi!” You said cheerfully, letting them know you weren’t someone to fear.

Thomas just hid behind Jax’s leg, clinging to his father’s hand. Abel on the other hand, gladly accepted yours and proudly said his name.

  “Woah,” you let your features and words turn somewhat animated, “what a cool name!”

Abel laughed and his eyes lit up. He leaned from side to side and giggled whenever your eyes met. 

   “Great, now I think he’s falling for you,” Jax remarked as he looked down at his star-struck son. You didn’t even look up at Jax.

Thomas peaked from a pant leg but once he saw you looking back, he quickly moved out of sight once again.

  “You must be the infamous Zoe__ …” Gemma trailed off, waiting for you to fill in your last name.

Smiling you replied, “just Zoe, mostly go by Zo.” You extended your hand and Gemma shook it. You could feel the cold metal of her wedding ring, and the light indentation of her nails.

                                                         - ✦ -

Gemma led the boys over to the play equipment, within minutes there were shrieks of laughter and “higher! Higher grandma!” As Gemma pushed each boy on the swing set.

Jax’s hands were in his pockets, and when he looked at you, there was something like hope in his eyes.

Moving a hand to rub behind his neck, he said “You wanna stay a while? I got some free time.”

  You hesitated, completely forgetting why you were actually here, “Uh – I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“Why is that?” His eyebrows furrowed together.

    “I don’t think Wendy would be too happy about it.”

“Wendy? The hell has she got to do with this?”

    You sighed and looked for any other place than him. Any other place than those eyes, because they felt like some place you hadn’t felt in a while. Those eyes felt like home.

 “Hey,” Jax reached for your hand, and you nearly let him take it. But a familiar voice rang out through the carpark.

Turning your attention to it, you found Tig, who came out of the mechanics with a dirty rag over his shoulder.

  “Well look what the cat dragged in,” the playfulness in his voice lightened the air that surrounded you and Jax.

When you replied, your voice changed; light-heartedness had found its way back in. Or maybe you were just a damn good actress.

  “Hey Tig, can you uh, look at my car for me?”

With an enthusiastic nod, he realised too late that he had interrupted something serious. If you were a mind reader, you would hear, ‘Fuck you Tig, and fuck your big mouth, dumbass!’ But all you got was a lopsided grin and a man eager to get away from Jax. It was as if  Hades himself was sat on a child’s plastic chair, staring at both of you from afar.

As you walked over to your car, Tig mumbled, “the fuck you say to him?”

 Without glancing at him, you pulled your keys from your pocket and handed them over, “not much.”

Jumping in the driver’s seat, you stood back and watched as Tig parked your car in the empty slot inside. You slowly walked over, basking in the Californian sun. The pavement seemed to radiant even more heat, because you found yourself walking over to the shade.

   “Ugh, Zo-“ Tig called out.

You walked over, not looking over at Jax, whose eyes bored into you. For a moment he swore you were Tara. Your long brown hair with that red undertone, the way you dressed, except for the all black clothing. It was just a glimpse of a memory, one that wasn’t hard to remember.  

 Reaching Tig, you asked what the damage was.  

     “All I can say is, it’s gonna take a few days.”  

“Perfect,” you replied, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head.

                                                           - ✦ -

There had been many offers to drive you back home, but ultimately Jax won out. You didn’t think he would’ve wanted to be anywhere near you right now, but for some reason…that wasn’t the case. And you still needed to tell him your decision.

  Gemma took the boys back to Jax’s place, where they’d be waiting for him to get home. They waved by to their dad from the swing set, their happiness a godsend since Tara passed.

Getting on the back of Jax’s Harley felt completely natural. Flinging a leg over, clipping on the helmet and hugging his waist all felt so normal. Although, you couldn’t stop the blush that you grew on your cheeks. Especially when Chibs winked at you as Jax reversed.

The ride had felt too short. You wanted it to go on and on, and as cliché as it sounds; you wanted to ride off into the sunset. It happened, didn’t it? Two people were able to fall in love and leave all their worries behind? Well, that’s what the fairytales told you. And surely they weren’t all lies?

 But your house was nearing; behind slanted trees, there was a stone pathway that ascended towards your door. You thought Jax was just going to wait until you reached the front door and drive off, but the second he killed the engine, you knew he was coming in.

 You left the front door open and turned on the kettle, knowing this was going to be … more than an odd conversation. Plus, you needed something to do with your hands.

As if he lived there too, Jax walked straight in and closed the door behind him.

   “Coffee or tea?” You called from the kitchen, trying to find the teabags.

“Uh, neither,” he said from the loungeroom, not knowing if he should sit down.

      “Beer then?”

“That, I’ll take.”

 You opened your fridge and took out two bottles, popped them and handed one to Jax. You could hear one of your dogs scratching at the back door, and you knew exactly which it was.

   Before sitting down, you went over and slid open the back door. Jango burst in like a rocket, his tail wagging back and forth. Angus, your Doberman, was much more graceful. The pair followed you back into the loungeroom, where Jax had taken a seat on the far corner.

    “So…” you said, sitting down. Both dogs were at your feet, waiting to be invited onto the couch.

“So-“ Jax said and took a swig of his drink. You did the same, and knew you were going to have to speak first.

   “I’m in. I’m fully in.” You said almost as an outburst.

Well, an outburst it was, because Jax was taken back.

   “The Club, I mean. I’m fully aware of the risks and I want to be involved.”

He nodded slowly, eyes closing for split second before shaking his head. “I knew you would.”

You weren’t 100% sure what his reaction was going to be. Your stomach was churning as you watched him take another big gulp. Would he get angry? Just get up and walk out?

 Without warning, he got up from his seat and placed his bottle on the nearest counter. You knew words were forming, there was something he needed to say. But he couldn’t find the right way to say it. Putting one hand in his pocket, and flaring his nose, he finally got the words out. 

  “…Why, were you upset with me and Wendy?”

You blanched, not thinking this was going to be his response. 

 “I-,” your mind went through so many different options of what could be said, but you were already looking into those eyes. You were looking at home.

  “I was jealous.”

He took a moment to process it. To know that his feelings weren’t unrequited.

 And somehow you were both standing now; he was looking in your eyes just as intently.

The movement towards one another was easy, and when Jax extended his hand, you accepted it.

 You moved closer, and his lips were inches from touching your own. Inches away from feeling the physical contact of the Prince of Death.

 His other hand stroked the hair from your face, and he dropped his eyes to look at your lips. Heart racing, he shook his head and stepped back. 

  “I’ve lost too much; I don’t know if I can do that again.”