#Sons of anarchy and everything | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

bellaxgiornata · 5 months ago

Text

You Are My Sunshine [2]

Pairing: Jax Teller x Fem!Reader Word count: 4.8k [Series Masterlist] [Jax Teller Masterlist]

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

a/n: May have been on a roll with writing, so enjoy part two sooner than anticipated! I greatly appreciated all the comments on the last part, too! Y'all are the reason I've already started on part three. I've also found that I'm enjoying the Jax POV's so there's more in this one and the next! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

tag list: @mariamadison6-blog @moongirlgodness

The rush of customers in the coffee shop had finally dwindled down after opening, leaving you with the usual mid-morning lull with which you’d grown accustomed. The elderly couple that came in almost every single morning around the same time to have a coffee was sitting at the exact same table in the far corner where they always sat, sipping their coffees and chatting quietly with each other. A college-aged young woman currently sat posted up at the front counter with her laptop and a notebook, her attention focused on an assignment. The sight of them brought a smile to your face as you filled up your small watering can at the underbar sink behind the counter.

You’d opened this coffee shop with the intention of it becoming a place for people around Charming to feel welcome. Whether that meant Honest Coffee was a spot to come and enjoy a cup of coffee for a first date or with a spouse of thirty years, or a place for students to focus on homework or others to come in and work. Whatever it was that brought repeat customers in here and allowed you the opportunity to meet the members of your town, it gave you joy seeing your shop growing into exactly what you’d hoped it could become.

Mia, one of the baristas you’d hired when the shop had first opened months ago, stood beside you as she cleaned down the machines and wiped down the counters. You’d noticed she wasn’t quite as chatty, working in an unusually thoughtful silence this morning, but just as you’d been about to ask if something was on her mind, the approaching rumble of motorcycles had caused her to stiffen and stop working. The noise grabbed your own attention as it drowned out the sound of the music playing over the speakers. You gave Mia a curious sidelong glance before the line of bikes pulling into the lot across the street drew your attention over to the front windows of your coffee shop.

Standing there holding the full watering can in your hands, you watched with Mia as the handful of men rolled into the lot across the street in the bright morning sunshine. The group of men backed up in the parking lot, lining their bikes beside each other in front of the clubhouse. The difference was almost immediate once they all began to cut their engines, the shop becoming noticeably quieter than it had been a second ago. It was something else you’d also just grown accustomed to with having a coffee shop located across the street from the Sons of Anarchy.

It didn’t skip your notice how the few people in the shop were all reacting to the motorcycle club, either. Besides the way Mia had gone completely still beside you, the young woman working on her laptop was agitatedly clicking her nails on the countertop. Across the shop, the elderly couple was staring out of the window beside them with matching guarded expressions on their faces before you caught them exchanging a look with each other. The elderly woman rolled her eyes at her husband and you frowned at the sight.

It wasn't that you were oblivious about what was said around town about the Sons, because you definitely weren't. You'd heard the rumors–everything from them selling guns to making crack to being killers for hire. You knew most of the things people said about them were embellished, false assumptions, but you also were aware that some things probably held some truth.

But that didn't matter to you. You were a firm believer in everyone deserving a fair chance. Equal treatment. You'd met Gemma, the supposed matriarch of the Sons, a few times now. She had come in often after you had first opened the shop. And while she'd absolutely come across completely different than the usual citizens of Charming, you'd found her to be a very sweet woman–in her own special way. And you'd had a strong inkling that her visits to your shop for coffee as she chatted with you about your plants or how business was coming along had just been a way for her to ease the pain of missing her son while he was doing time in Stockton.

A few nights ago when you had finally met that son of hers, you'd gotten a feel for the Sons’ President. You weren't entirely sure what had brought him in after you had closed that night–because you were certain it wasn't the coffee–but you had caught the hint of pain hidden deep in the depths of his blue eyes despite all of his charming smiles and pet names. In all honesty, he had seemed lonely and lost beneath all that playboy persona you'd heard about. You hadn't minded letting him stay to chat because he seemed like he needed a friend or some kind words, even if he didn't realize it himself. And you had been content to be that for a short time.

“It's unfortunate your coffee shop is across the street from that,” Mia muttered.

Snapping out of your thoughts at the sound of her voice, you looked over at where she'd resumed cleaning down the counter. You could feel the frustration building in your gut, but you did your best to tamp it down and keep it at bay. Not everyone in Charming was as determined to be as open-minded as you were. It was a small town, after all. And it wasn't like the Sons hadn't caused their own fair share of trouble over the years.

“Why do you say that?” you asked.

Setting the filled watering can down on the counter, you turned and focused on your employee. Mia pulled a face at the question before she dropped the towel she was cleaning with onto the countertop and fixed her full attention on you.

“Really?” she asked before gesturing a hand at the front shop window. “Your coffee shop is across the street from a whole criminal operation. A very loud, very crude one. It's not exactly the most ideal location.”

Shrugging a shoulder, your eyes darted across the street. A bunch of men in kuttes, as Jax had taught you they were called the other night, were congregating in front of their bikes. You could easily make out Jax amongst the group from his blonde hair even from this distance. He looked angry about something as he spoke, one of his arms gesturing in wide, sharp movements. Briefly you wondered what had made him quite so furious before your attention returned to Mia and the topic of conversation.

“The rent was vastly more affordable for this building,” you told her, knowing exactly why it was. “And while it can occasionally get a little noisy with the motorcycles, and some people aren't the biggest fan of our neighbors, I don't really feel bothered by their presence.”

Mia sent you a flat look, one of her brows arching upwards in disbelief. “They don't bother you? Are you completely insane?”

“They're really not that bad,” you disagreed.

Both of Mia's brows shot up onto her forehead at that, her jaw partially dropping. You playfully rolled your eyes at her in return, an amused smile curving the corners of your lips. She was always so dramatic.

“Are you serious?” Mia asked. “Have you forgotten Gemma already since her last visit?”

You shook your head at the question. Of course you hadn't forgotten the woman. You didn’t think it was possible for anyone to forget her.

“Gemma is just blunt. She speaks her mind,” you replied. “Maybe it's a bit much for most people, but she's really not all that bad.”

“Well the guys over there–” Mia continued, gesturing back out the front window with a hand again while remaining focused on you, “–definitely aren't good.”

You shook your head, picking the full watering can up from its place on the counter. “That is entirely a matter of opinion. You can’t paint people in black and white, Mia. What one person considers “good” is arguably “bad” to someone else, and vice versa. It's objective. A social construct. It isn't like they haven't participated in charity work around Charming. Done things to arguably help the town on occasion, either.”

“Well, you can't argue that they don't break laws. And I think killing people is pretty black and white, boss,” Mia called after you as you began watering the plants in the shop. “That’s about as sharp of a contrast as you can get between the two.”

“Maybe in some cases,” you agreed, watering one of your pothos plants that had been growing like crazy in a hanging basket nearby. “But to some extent, I think there's more factors to be considered before passing judgement. Like the why behind it all. Something no one in this town probably really knows when it comes to each one of them.”

Mia exhaled sharply at your words, the sound almost like she was deflating at your response. A moment later she began laughing a little, the noise catching your attention as you moved to water the next plant.

“Okay, I didn't sign up for one of your lectures on morality this morning,” Mia teased you.

You grinned as you focused back on watering the plant before you. “All I'm saying is that humans are complex, you can't just–”

“Lectures on morality?” Gemma's distinct voice cut through the conversation, causing both you and Mia to glance over at the shop’s entrance. “I thought you just sold coffee here, now you're lecturing on morality, sweetheart?”

Mia grew tense behind the counter instantly, her mouth closing as she forced a professional smile onto her face that clearly looked forced when she greeted Gemma. But you genuinely smiled over at the dark-haired woman, and that smile only grew wider when you saw who she had brought with her–Abel. His blonde head came to just about knee-height beside her as he held onto her hand, but the moment the almost one-and-a-half year old little boy saw you, the biggest smile spread across his own face.

During Jax’s time away in Stockton, Gemma had spent a lot of time watching Abel when he wasn't with his nanny. Which meant sometimes she had brought him with her when she came in for coffee, so you had gotten to know him along with Gemma over the past few months. And Abel had gotten used to the free cookie you'd given him every time–anything from chocolate chips to snickerdoodles to monster cookies. He'd taken to calling you ‘cookie’ because of it, something you personally adored hearing in his little voice every time.

“I didn't know my favorite customer was coming in today!” you exclaimed.

Turning in a hurry, you set the watering can down on the counter behind you before rushing across your shop, not having seen the little boy for over a week. The moment he began hopping in place next to Gemma, his small hand still wrapped around hers, you felt your heart melt. He was the sweetest little boy.

“You're more chipper than usual today,” Gemma observed.

You caught the teasing smile on her face before you knelt down in front of Abel, your smile widening when he waved at you and called you 'cookie’ once again. You'd been about to open your mouth to ask him if he was ready to pick out a cookie today, but a now familiar voice behind Gemma caught your attention.

“What about cookies, little man?”

Looking up from your place on the floor of the shop, you saw Jax stepping inside just behind his mother, the door falling shut behind him. The moment his attention left Abel and focused on you, you went still. Judging by the look of confusion on his face, you guessed he hadn't known about Abel's visits with Gemma to your shop. But behind that outward confusion written on his face, you could still see the remnants of something like anger left over from when you'd seen him yelling about something across the street a short time ago. You were half tempted to ask how he was doing today, but you had a feeling the question would be met with either a lie or hostility. So you left it alone this time.

“Been bringing Abel here with me since you boys were in Stockton,” Gemma explained, turning on the spot and studying her own son closely as he stepped further inside. “He calls the owner ‘cookie’ cause she always gives him one when he visits.”

Jax's expression shifted to something harder when his mother mentioned Stockton Prison, a muscle jumping in his cheek. You quietly watched as some sort of silent exchange occurred between them while you remained kneeling in front of Abel.

“The hell are you doing here, anyway, Jackson?” Gemma asked after a moment of silence, still eyeing him suspiciously. “Don't you have a...thing to go deal with?”

Jax’s eyes narrowed at his mother before he answered. “A few of the guys are handling it right now,” he replied, voice tense. “Thought I'd see what you and Abel were up to. Figured I could use a coffee myself.”

Gemma’s head tilted to the side, one dark brow arching up at his comment as if she didn’t quite believe him. Not wanting to get in the middle of whatever was going on between them, you stood back up, eyes shifting between the pair.

“So…is it alright if I let Abel pick out a cookie this morning?” you asked cautiously.

Both Gemma and Jax turned their attention to you at the sound of your voice. Almost simultaneously they both responded to the question, the sight causing you to bite back a grin.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

“Sure thing, sunshine.”

Gemma's head immediately snapped in Jax’s direction as she pulled a face at him. “Sunshine?” she questioned sharply.

Fighting down a laugh at the briefly sheepish expression you caught on Jax’s face before he recovered, you grabbed Abel's hand and led him over towards the front counter. You noticed the firm look Jax sent his mother before you walked away–the one clearly telling her to not say anything further.

As you helped Abel pick out one of the freshly baked cookies you had made–peanut butter brownie swirl–you could hear Mia awkwardly taking Gemma and Jax’s drink order behind the register. She began fumbling behind the counter shortly afterwards as she started on Gemma's latte, clearly more thrown off by the presence of Jax with her this time. The only time he'd come into the coffee shop was the other night after closing when it had just been you here. Besides that night and Gemma's visits, no other Son or affiliate of the Sons had ever actually come into your shop.

You could tell Jax’s presence wasn't just affecting Mia as Abel happily ran back to his father's side with his cookie in hand. The young woman at the counter doing her schoolwork kept shooting Jax nervous sideways glances. She had almost imperceptibly inched away from them where she sat at the counter, as if wanting to put some distance between herself and the pair. Across the room, the elderly couple was scowling at Gemma and Jax, whispering amongst themselves at the table.

Oddly enough, neither Jax nor Gemma seemed to notice or react to the negative attention. They were too busy leaning against the counter waiting for their drinks as Abel contentedly munched on his cookie, both mother and son talking in hushed tones. Your smile faltered a little at the wary look you once more caught on the young woman's face before you saw Mia growing flustered behind the counter. Deciding to rescue her, you joined her behind the counter and started on Jax’s coffee–the same order as what you'd made him the other night.

Mia shot you a grateful look as she filled the frothing pitcher with milk. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Smiling as you started on Jax’s coffee, you shook your head at her. “You're making this into something more than it needs to be,” you whispered back. “They're just here for coffee like anyone else.”

Mia leaned over towards you, pausing as she set the frothing wand of the espresso machine into the pitcher. “Usually my customers aren't armed though,” she countered quietly. “That makes a difference.”

“He's not going to shoot you for messing up a coffee order,” you told her as you grabbed a to-go cup for Jax’s coffee.

“You have no proof of that. Just look at his face today, he looks like he'd shoot someone for less,” she murmured.

The loud sound of the milk frothing abruptly ended the conversation as Mia focused back on Gemma's order. As Jax’s coffee began extracting into the pitcher, you couldn’t resist looking over your shoulder to where he and his mother were still leaning against the counter.

He did look upset, Mia wasn't wrong about that. Both of his brows were pulled marginally together, a slight crease visible between them. His mouth was drawn into a straight line as he listened to whatever Gemma was saying, the corners of his lips occasionally shifting downwards. There was even a noticeable stiffness in the way he was just leaning against the countertop that hadn't been there when you'd met him the other night. But behind all that rigidness that made him look tightly wound, there was an exhaustion in his eyes that seemed like it went further than just a bad night of sleep.

Chewing the inside of your cheek, you focused back on the coffee you were making, but a second later an idea struck you. Reaching over beside the stack of to-go cups, you grabbed the black marker used for writing names on orders and began writing something small on the outside of his cup, a faint smile on your lips as you did. Afterwards, you placed the cap on the marker and set it back before you began filling Jax’s cup with the coffee that had finished brewing. As you finished up, you heard Mia turn around and nervously give Gemma her drink.

Grabbing a lid, you fastened it onto Jax’s cup before also turning around. He was already focused on you, his blue eyes watching as you stepped over to where the pair stood on the other side of the counter. You set Jax's drink down in front of him, a warm and friendly smile on your face. He looked like he could use one–and probably a hug, too, but you figured that would certainly be a weird offer.

“Thanks, sunshine,” Jax said.

There was the ghost of a smile on his lips for the briefest of moments before it disappeared as his hand reached out, grabbing the cup without looking at it. He looked as if he'd been about to say something more, but the amused huff from Gemma had his expression quickly growing further irritated than it had been a moment ago.

“Won't bother you today,” Jax told you, pushing off the counter with his ringed hand. “Gotta deal with some shit. But thanks for the coffee.”

A small pang of disappointment hit you when you realized he wasn't going to even chat for a minute, but you figured you should just count it as a win that he had come back into the shop at all. Maybe that meant there’d be a third visit. With a smile still on your lips, you nodded back at him.

“Of course,” you replied. “I'm always happy to fuel a caffeine addiction.”

Gemma laughed a little, shaking her head at what you’d said. It was a line you'd used a few times now and she knew that.

“You should lay off on snorting those coffee beans, sweetie. You're already plenty perky,” she teased as she grabbed Abel's hand.

“Or maybe that's my secret,” you jokingly countered, enjoying the way Jax seemed to be fighting back a grin as he sauntered over to the counter by the exit to add sweetener into his coffee. “A few lines of freshly ground beans first thing in the morning. Wakes you right up.”

Gemma laughed, the sound loud and genuine. A flood of pride hit you, especially when Jax began securing the lid back on his coffee, his attention on you as an almost cocky, amused grin tugged at his lips. Maybe it was only for a moment, but you’d briefly brightened both of their mornings.

“You take care, sunshine,” Gemma teased.

She turned and led Abel out of the door, Jax following behind her now with a surly look on his face at the way she’d used his nickname for you. Mia stepped over beside you as they left, watching the three of them cross the street back towards the clubhouse and Teller-Morrow.

“It’s insanely weird how well you can get along with absolutely anyone,” Mia said after a moment, turning to look over at you standing beside her. “You realize that, right?”

Your smile only grew wider at her words as your eyes remained fixed on the retreating form of Jax. You’d gotten a bit more of a genuine smile out of him today even if you hadn’t gotten much conversation. That was something, at least. Eyes shifting over to Mia, you shrugged a shoulder.

“I like people,” you answered simply.

“The hell you think you’re doing with that girl over there?” Gemma asked sharply.

Her eyes fell on Jax as they passed the line of bikes in front of the clubhouse, Abel’s hand still wrapped around hers as he finished eating his cookie. Jax immediately rolled his eyes at his mother’s tone, not interested in being scolded like he was a teenager all over again.

“I’m not doing anything,” he responded firmly.

Gemma shot him a pointed look, clearly not buying what he was saying. He huffed in annoyance, stuffing his free hand into his jeans pocket as he brought his coffee cup up to his lips for another drink. Christ, it was still as good as the other night when you’d made him one.

“Bullshit,” Gemma continued. “Sunshine? Really? I’ve never once in my life heard you call a woman that, Jax. And I’ve heard you call them plenty of shit.”

He swallowed down the coffee, his irritation rising with where he felt she was trying to take this conversation. “So what? It’s a goddamn nickname, Gem. You got a problem with a nickname now?” he snapped at her.

Her lips drew into a thin line across her face as she came to an abrupt halt which in turn had Jax stopping just behind her and Abel. The way her eyes narrowed at him meant trouble and he knew it.

“That sweet, nice coffee shop owner back there is not club pussy, Jackson,” she began sternly. “Just because her shop happens to be as close as it is to the clubhouse does not mean–”

“Jesus Christ, relax!” he shouted, cutting her clean off. “You don’t think I know that? I’m not interested in her like that, alright? I just stopped over there the other night because…”

His voice trailed off for a minute, unable to even try to think of a reason as to why he had, especially with the way Gemma was staring at him right now. Truthfully, he still hadn’t known why he’d gone into your shop the other night in the first place, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about you on and off since then. And he certainly had still been watching you through your shop’s windows.

Jax ran a hand across his mouth in agitation before he continued, trying to keep his tone more level. “Look, I stopped in there the other night ‘cause I saw her closing up. She always just looks so goddamn happy and…I dunno. Just made me curious what the hell was up with someone like that, okay? I’m not trying to get her in my bed or anything, Gem. I promise.”

“Better not be,” Gemma warned, her eyes still narrowed at him. “Because that girl is not meant for our world and you know it. She’s far too kind and sweet, she’d probably have a heart attack spending one night around the guys at the clubhouse. And I don’t need you charming your way into her bed and breaking her tender little heart and having her spitting into my coffee whenever I stop in because I birthed a little shit.”

Jax scoffed, pulling a face at her over-dramatic words. “I’m not going to sleep with her. You can calm the hell down already. And I highly doubt she’d ever spit into a coffee, she seems far too nice for that.”

“Not the point,” Gemma countered.

Jax watched as his mother led his son by the hand back towards TM’s office, a scowl on his face as the noise from the garage rang out around him. Anger flared within Jax from the conversation he’d just had with her. He didn’t know why her warning to stay away from you had him bristling and itching to hit something because she’d been completely right on all fronts. You were a good person and absolutely nothing like the club whores he was used to. Not that he’d had any intention of it, but sleeping with you would certainly end with your heart getting broken because Jax was not a relationship kind of guy–even less so after the bullshit with Tara that made him hate the idea of one even more. And the thought of you knowing any little bit about the things he’d done for the club had his hand tightening around the paper cup of coffee you’d given him.

Gemma was entirely right. You weren’t someone who belonged in his world. Without a doubt, Jax knew the only thing he’d ever be capable of doing to you would be snuffing out that bright, warm light he found himself strangely drawn to, and that wasn’t something he’d ever want to do to you–even if he barely knew you.

Teeth gritting together, Jax knew that you’d be better off if he stopped visiting your damn coffee shop. He glanced over at the nearby trash can just outside of the garage. He exhaled a sharp breath and made his way over towards it, reaching his hand out with the mostly full cup of coffee. As it hovered over the open bin, Jax about to drop it into the garbage, black ink hidden behind his hand caught his eye.

Frowning, he pulled the cup back and shifted his hold on it to get a better look. In small, delicate handwriting he saw the words ‘maybe this is the cup.’ Jax’s eyes narrowed in confusion as he reread the line over again, wondering what the hell you’d meant by writing that on his cup. And then he remembered the other night when he’d stopped into your shop and you’d told him you believed a good cup of coffee could make a bad day better or some bullshit along those lines. When he’d disagreed, he remembered your words exactly, hearing your own voice in his head for a moment.

“You never know, maybe you just haven't had the right cup of coffee yet.”

An amused breath fell out of Jax as he shook his head at the fucking cup of coffee in his hand, reading what you’d written again–“maybe this is the cup.” You were so goddamn persistent and optimistic, weren’t you? You really thought one of these days that a stupid cup of coffee was going to somehow change his day, didn’t you?

“You’re something else, sunshine,” Jax muttered to the cup in his hand.

He stared at it for a moment longer, his eyes tracing along the lines of black ink before a voice behind him cut through his thoughts. Jax’s head darted over his shoulder, spotting Chibs making his way towards him.

“There ya are, Jackie,” he began. “Was lookin’ for ya. We got an update on that problem, might wanna head to the chapel so we can fill ya in.”

Jax sighed softly, nodding his head at Chibs. “Right,” he agreed. “Let’s go.”

He turned around, following Chibs back across the lot to the clubhouse. As he walked, he drew the cup of coffee up to his lips for another drink. When he swallowed the warm liquid down, his gaze inevitably returned to your neat, delicate script beside his fingers. The corner of his lips twitched.

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

285 notes · View notes

secretlysamcro · 14 days ago

Text

Black!Reader x Jax Teller MAJOR SPOILER & Explicit language. If you are under the age of 18, haven't finished the show or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Jax never wanted a live in nanny, but after all the shit that went down, Gemma's guilt pushed for stability and he ended up giving in. Now you're under his roof, caring for his sons and his house, whilst he keeps his walls up, watching from a distance. He doesn't talk much, doesn't let you in, but he's still polite in his own guarded way. Friday night to Sunday morning is usually your time. No boys, no chaos, just a chance to breathe. Most weekends, you’re out with friends, letting loose, maybe getting a little too drunk. Jax is in and out, mostly gone on the weekends, with the boys being at Gemma's and club business keeping him busy. But tonight... he's got nothing on his plate, and nowhere else to be, and neither do you.

“Hey, you need to use the bathroom?” You ask, catching his attention.

He’s just sitting there, doing nothing, a rare sight when it comes to Jax Teller. The man you’ve come to know who is always moving, always handling something. Club shit, Gemma shit, some kinda shit. But not tonight. Tonight, he’s sunk into the couch, hair a mess, wearing sweats and a white vest stretched over his chest, watching whatever’s on TV but without really watching it.

“Uh, yeah…let me piss real quick” he mutters, dragging himself up. As he passes, he gives you that familiar tight smile, the one where his lips press into a thin line, like he’s not quite sure what to say to you.

Jax has never been exactly warm towards you, but he wasn’t cold either. Just…off. His mom, Gemma, had warned you when you applied from one of the ads she had strategically placed around town, that her son might not love the idea, but she was pushing for it anyway. And now here you are, two and a half months in, living in his house and helping look after his boys.

You knew the basics, his wife had passed, murdered right in the kitchen where you make breakfast for Abel and Thomas every morning, though you’re still not exactly sure why or how, no one really talks about it and if they do, you’re never in the conversation.

The boys come first, always. But his second priority, though some would argue it’s actually his first, is his club. Sons Of Anarchy. You’re an observer, you’re not stupid. You know not everything is clean or legal. But the club? That’s not your business. Your job is the boys and everything that comes with keeping this house together.

You head back down the hall to the spare room, which is finally starting to feel like your own space. When you first got here, it was cold, bare and unloved. But now, it’s got pieces of you everywhere. Hanging plants, fairy lights, your favourite vinyls decorating the wall. You grab your shower bag stuffed with all your lotions, potions & rituals and wait outside your door for Jax to finish up.

You hear the water shut off, wait a second, then start walking, trying to avoid the awkward hallway run in. But, your timings off and he steps out of the bathroom just as you turn the corner. He clears his throat, his eyes dropping to the oversized bag in your grasp, a low Chuckle escaping him “You movin’ out or something?”

You laugh, holding it up proudly “Nah, just my stuff for an everything shower”

“Everything shower?” His brows meet in the middle as he leans casually against the wall, his posture a little looser now. “Do I even wanna know what that means?”

A smile tilts at your lips, another laugh leaving through them “probably not” you reply, stepping closer towards the door.

“You know I cleared a drawer out for you?” He says, his voice softer, which was an unfamiliar tone for you. This wasn’t the usual quick exchange about juice boxes or bath times, this was him trying to talk.

“Yeah…I know. I uh... already put a few things in there, just didn’t wanna take over your space” you say, the laughter light, fully aware of how much stuff you actually have.

He laughs again too, nodding. That same unsure smile flashing before he turns away, back to doing nothing.

Steam curls around the bathroom like a warm hug as you step into the shower, tilting your head back under the water just enough to keep your fresh lashes dry. You rinse once over, before starting with your hair, soaking your curls, giving it a lil shampoo before working in your thick buttery deep conditioner. Section by section, detangling with your fingers patiently, humming softly as the hot water rolls down your back. This is your favourite ritual, your reset.

Whilst the conditioner works, you lather up with your body bar, rinsing clean before reaching for your macadamia and honey scrub. Exfoliating with care, arms, legs, hips, letting the grains melt into your skin. Then comes the Shea shaving mousse. You move gently shaving everywhere. Armpits, legs, bikini area, even your toes. No place getting left out. Finally, you use your net cloth with vanilla shower wash, scrubbing away more than just the day. Dead skin, old energy, anything heavy spiralling down the drain.

Jax was still slouched on the couch, occasionally looking in the direction of the bathroom, slowly starting to realise that whatever it was you did in an everything shower took a long fucking time. He'd already skipped through channels, finished a beer, called Gemma to speak to the boys, and still, you weren't out.

Now he could faintly hear you singing along to some 90's slow jam, a small smile creeping onto his face, realising this was probably something you did every weekend, when he wasn't around obviously. And the fact that you were still doing it, still getting on with your routine even with him home, made him realise that maybe you were comfortable here now. Not that he had made it easy for you. He knew he'd been distant, standoffish. Half of it intentional, the other half just him. But hearing you sing, soft and unbothered behind that door made something shift in him, just a little bit.

You step out of the bathroom, your towel tucked tight around your body, another wound up on your head. The hallways cooler, but your skins still warm and glowing. Back in your room, the smell of your vanilla cashmere lotion fills the air as you smooth it over your body. You settle down in front of your mirror, legs crossed, the towel that was wrapped around your body now swapped for something casual and light, as you begin your face routine, cleansing, toning, pressing in your well trusted serums with gentle fingertips. You move with the kind of calm that only comes after an everything shower, skin clean and your soul a lil lighter.

Jax stands outside your door, hand hovering like he isn’t sure whether to knock or just turn around. He can hear movement inside. Drawers opening, music playing low, the faint clink of bottles on a surface. He scratches the back of his neck, still unsure if you were getting ready to go out or if this was just part of your...whatever the fuck it was routine.

He finally knocks, light and unsure like part of him maybe didn't want you to hear.

"Its open" you call out from inside. He hesitates a second before pushing the door open. The scent hits him immediately, its all vanilla, and warm, and just comfy. His gaze moves around slowly, adjusting to the soft lighting and how different the room feels, it looks nothing like the room he remembered. He still lingers in the doorway, unsure if he should step inside or not.

"You coming in, or...?" you ask, looking at him through the mirror.

That pulls him forward, he steps in careful, like he doesn't wanna touch anything by mistake, "I...yeah, um I was...was gonna order a pizza. Didn't know if you were...getting ready to head out or somethin" he says, eyes moving around the room like he wasn't sure where to land them.

"Nah, not going out tonight. Gonna stay in" you say, fiddling with one of your gel eye patches, flipping it the right way before gently pressing it under your left eye.

Jax sits on the edge of your bed, the mattress sinking slightly beneath his weight. His eyes meet yours in the mirror, brows drawn together in obvious confusion. "What's all this?" he asks, a laugh slipping out as he gestures to the spread of bottles and jars surrounding you on the floor "Looks like a fuckin' science project"

You don't say a word. Just place the second patch under your eye like its nothing, then start pushing a few of the bottles and jars aside, clearing a space next to you on the floor. Then, without looking at him, you pat the spot besides you, twice.

He raises a brow, narrowing his eyes slightly "you want me to..." he points to the floor next to you, scoffing "Nah" he says, shaking his head with a disbelieving laugh.

Still, you don't answer, you just swipe on your lip balm like you didn't just ask a grown ass biker, your boss, to come sit cross legged on the floor like a set of kids. He leans back slightly on the bed, still blinking down at you. His expression stuck between confusion and suspicion. "Not to be rude, I just..." he mutters, looking at the display surrounding you "...Yeah, I'm not about to let you rub all that shit on me"

You meet his eyes through the mirror again, smile and then shrug. Still no words, just a soft hum in time to the song playing low from your Spotify playlist. He watches you for another second, like he's trying to figure out if you're messing with him. But there's something about the calm in the room. the way you haven't pushed, just waited, that makes him curious.

A second later, with a dramatic sigh, he finally pushes himself off the bed "this is fuckin' ridiculous" he laughs under his breath, settling onto the floor beside you, clearly out of his element and groaning a little as he tries to cross his legs, using both hands like his joints have forgotten how to move that way.

That's when you finally turn to him, clearly not expecting to actually go along with it "you allergic to anything?" you ask, just to be safe.

"No...but I guess I'm bout to find out"

"Push your hair back a lil" you instruct him softly.

He stares at you for a second too long, like he's deciding whether to obey or to challenge you, but eventually he lifts a hand, raking his fingers through his hair, brushing it back into place with a quiet sigh. You lean in, cotton pad in hand, and begin smoothing it across his face. Gently wiping away the invisible chaos he walks around with. The weight, the grit, the residue of the shit he doesn't talk about.

"Your chain..." you question, looking up at him, not even sure if he'll entertain the small talk "you always have it on...is it like, important or somethin?"

He pauses for a second, then reaches beneath his vest and pulls it out, the light glistening against it as the bullet charm rests in his palm. "This?" he says, looking at it for a moment "Yeah...it means somethin' to me" His voice dips a little, not defensive but distant, like whatever holding it means, he's not ready to hand it over to you just yet.

You've never seen Jax nervous before, but if you had to call it? This is definitely Jax nervous. He doesn't know where to look, his eyes flick over your face, then off to the side, then back again. Bouncing around the room like they're looking for an out.

Meanwhile, your touch is steady, and even though he could pull away at any moment, he doesn't. You noticed the way his jaw keeps tensing, then relaxing again like he’s trying to keep his cool. Like sitting this close to you, being touched like this, without sex or blood or any obligation tied to it, was something he didn't know how to navigate.

After a second, his voice pipes up sounding all rough as usual. "What made you take the job?" he asks, like the questions been sitting on his tongue for a while.

You lean back, pausing the pampering for a second, surprised he's the one asking. Not because the question itself is wild, but because he's never asked you anything that doesn't involve his boys before. "What do you mean?...like back when I came for the interview?"

He nods slowly "Yeah. I mean I wasn't exactly rollin' out the welcome mat"

"Yeah, no shit" you give him a dry smile.

His eyes move away from yours, almost like the regret is creeping in "Still, you said yeah... why?"

You stretch your legs out with a little sigh, brushing imaginary dust off your thigh as you look over to him, cotton pad resting idly between your fingers. "Remember you walked out halfway through the interview?"

His eyes flick upwards to you, like he's trying to work out where this is going.

"When you left, your Mom filled in some of the blanks...Told me a bit about their Mom...about your wife" You pause, letting the silence stretch for a second, then you shrug "I didn't ask questions. I know it aint my place. But then your boys ran in and they were still so happy...you know? after...everything I just" you shake your head, shrugging "kinda felt drawn to them in a way?"

Jax takes in everything you've just said, eyes fixed somewhere just over your shoulder, after a long pause, he clears his throat.

"Sorry" he says quietly, "For bein' an asshole"

You offer a small smile, about to lean in again to continue but his hand comes out gently, lowering yours back into your lap. The touch isn't forceful, but its enough to make you pause.

"I didn't want this" he admits "Someone new in my house. Someone I don't know, don't trust. Someone outside my circle. But Gemma..." He exhales hard through his nose "...Gemma kept pushin', Said the boys needed routine. That I needed help, even if I wouldn't admit it"

He laughs once under his breath "Didn't like the idea of someone else in here. Tuckin' my kids in. Walkin' through my house like...like she never existed" Then he goes quite, his jaw flexing as he realises how much he just said, the wall coming back up fast.

"I'm just here to help, Jax" you say softly "If you think I'm crossin' a line or not doin' enough, just say the word" "But I was wrong...I see the way they are with you" he finally looks at you again "They're happy. Comfortable" His tone flattens a little, like he's pulling himself back in. You nod once, not pushing for more, not trying to fix the heaviness just reaching back out to him, continuing to cleanse away at his face.

"You good?" you ask, physically feeling the quiet tension rolling off of him. "I can stop if you want" you add with a soft laugh, surprised you even got this far.

He doesn't answer right away. Most of him wants to shut it down, pull this shit back and brush it off with a joke, but fuck. The smallest part of him, wants to stay right here, in this moment. His mouth twitches like he's about to say something, but nothing comes out, instead he lets out this low, awkward laugh, his tongue running across his lips before his face twists a little at the taste of the cleanser sitting there. He wipes it with the back of his hand, shaking his head.

"I..." He clears his throat, eyes darting around trying to think of something to say "I came in here to ask if you wanted somethin’ to eat..."

You blink, nodding your head as you suddenly remember.

"...then you started doin' all this shit and now I don't even know what the fuck's goin on" he does an awkward laugh, shifting where he sits. Uncrossing his legs and pulling one knee up to his chest, his hand resting there like it's the only thing keeping him sane.

You laugh with him, rolling the used cotton pad between your fingers and tossing it over his shoulder into the bin in the corner. "Let me just..." you trail off, leaning forward again, grabbing your favourite moisturiser. He watches you silently, his eyes following your hands.

You scoop a small amount onto your fingers and dab some onto his face. Then, without hesitation this time, you begin working the rest into his skin "...put this on, then we're done"

Your touch, as before, is still gentle. Two fingers from each hand sweeping across the bridge of his nose, gliding up towards the corner of his eyes, then down again along his jaw. His skin is warm beneath your fingertips. You're close enough again now, and this time he notices more than just your touch. The scent of you hits him, like vanilla and honey melted together. And even though he says nothing, he lets you finish.

You jump up without warning, reaching for the towel around your head. Jax follows your lead with a groan, pushing himself off the floor slowly with a groan, huffing like a man twice his age "Jesus...Christ" he breathes, stretching out "Ain't built for sittin' like that anymore"

With one gentle tug, your curls spring free. Damp, soft and coiled in every direction. Jax watches as you grab your leave in conditioner and start spritzing like you're putting out a fire, some of it drifting in his direction, catching him in the face.

"Alright...alright" he laughs, stepping back with his hands up like he's under attack

"Sorry" you grin, laughing too as you finally turn back round to face him. Although not obvious, there's a different ease in the air now, something settled. "I'll take a pepperoni" you say, casually bringing the moment full circle.

His mouth curls at the corners, the smallest smile gracing his lips as he nods once, playing with the rings on his fingers before turning to walk out. You hear his footsteps fade down the hallway, then stop. A second later they return, heavier this time.

"y/n?" he calls, poking his head back into your bedroom.

You glance over your shoulder, catching the sight of him standing in your doorway "Yeah?"

"No one finds out about this" he says, his eyes narrowing in seriousness but a smirk creeping in anyway.

You walk towards him slowly, holding out your pinky with a raised brow, lips twitching trying to conceal a laugh "I promise"

He looks down at your hand like its a weapon, then finally hooks his own little finger around yours "I mean it" he mutters, giving your hand a shake to seal it.

"So do I" you say softly, looking at him for just a second longer than you probably should have. He lets out a dry laugh, his head shaking as he presses your hand back to your chest before letting go and walking away from your door. "Gonna order it now" he says over his shoulder, heading towards the kitchen. "Don't take too long doin' all that shit" he adds, the grin in his voice not so hard to notice as he disappears round the corner.

As he pulls out his phone, he realises almost without meaning to, that maybe having you here isn't as inconvenient as he once thought. And after that encounter, its clear, its not bad at all. It's easy. Calm. Different. And in the middle of everything he's got going on, all the weight and the mess and the noise that comes with his life, it might just be exactly what he needs.

You take care of his boys. You keep the house in order. Shit, you practically keep the whole place running. And yeah, he's thanked you before. In passing, a nod, a quick "appreciate it" here and there. But never like he should. Never properly, never in a way that actually meant something. But tonight, he's finally starting to see you as more than just the woman Gemma pushed into his life.

🐦‍⬛photos & gifs do not belong to me.

🫶🏽Who is secretlysamcro without smut? Hehe this was so cute to write, I’ve also tried to go down the shorter chapter routes (again lol) so I can make more parts. - probably won’t last you know I’m a lengthy babe x

🖤 working on some more bits currently, I see your requests, I’m not ignoring I just have a fucking list full at the moment, I will get to them hehe.

xoxo secretlysamcro

#jax teller #sons of anarchy #secretlysamcro #jax teller x reader #jax x black!reader #soa #samcro #jax teller imagine #charlie hunnam #jax teller one shot #soa fanfiction #jax teller fluff

154 notes · View notes