#charlie hunnam characters

[laurfilijames]

Bulletproof

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Mentions of being shot through a bulletproof vest. Bruises and welts. Swearing. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: After a close call in a gunfight, Jax turns to you to remind him of all the things in life worth living for.

A/N: I'm sorry I couldn't help it. This is a teeny bit angsty and full of feelings. I needed to write something "short and sweet" (it's neither of those 🤣) to get my writing back on track, and well, here's this... enjoy!!

---

The buzz of your phone that sat on the nightstand beside your head woke you from a decent sleep, taking you a few minutes to register it was happening for real and not in a dream, a soft moan passing your lips as you reached over for it and hit the button to accept the call.

“Hello?” you answered, your voice groggy and unable to disguise your sleep, your eyes too heavy and blurred to have read on the screen who was on the other end.

“Hey, it’s me,” Jax’s voice registered in your ear, making you become a little more alert and sit up while running your hand over your hair.

“I’m on my way over,” he explained, his tone short and wired, like he was on edge or adrenaline was pumping through him.

Glancing over at the alarm clock, you simply agreed, not asking any questions, knowing if he was calling you and needing to see you at this hour that something more than just sex was on his mind.

The roar of his Harley came through before he hung up, and flinging the covers off while swinging your legs to the side of the bed, you did the same.

You walked through to the front door, wearing only his Reaper t-shirt that had become your nightly staple, flicking the bolt to unlock it as you leaned against the frame, peeling back the curtain that covered the small window to look out onto the dark street as if he would be rolling in any second despite him having just left to get there.

Letting your eyelids close, you continued to lean, wrapping your arms around yourself to try to keep some of the lingering warmth from your bed on your skin, partly hoping that Jax would be tired and ready for sleep when he arrived.

The familiar rumble of his engine sounded in the distance and grew louder with each second, and an automatic smile tugged at your lips, your heart picking up pace just as his motorcycle did to quicker close the gap between him and you.

You watched through the window, your fingers toying with the thin fabric as you held the curtain aside, seeing him roughly push down the kickstand with his white sneakers before quickly standing up and dismounting his bike, unfastening his helmet at the same time.

The way he was rushing made your pulse hammer, his deliberate strides a clear display of his desperation, and you opened the door for him before he blew through it and knocked it off its hinges, his expression a mix of frenzy and relief as his blue eyes landed on you.

Gloved hands gripped your cheeks roughly, pulling you into him equally as much as he pressed himself into you, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss so hard it stole your breath.

A slightly surprised gasp blew out of your mouth when he parted from you and gave you an opportunity to get air back into your lungs, your eyes searching his features with concern as you took in the sweat clinging to his reddened cheeks, his hair damp and darkened.

His chest rose and fell sharply, and tearing off his gloves, he raked his long fingers that held a home for his chunky rings through his messy tresses, exhaling a shaky breath as he looked down at the floor and then back up at you.

“Jax, what happened?”

He shook his head and chuckled falsely, pulling his bottom lip in his teeth before looking at you with what he must have thought was a convincing expression.

“I’m fine.”

His eyebrows sat high on his forehead and brought out the creases on it as he stared at you, and when you held his gaze almost challengingly, he blinked away the moisture that you caught building up in them and moved into you again, his sigh emptying out into your mouth as he kissed you slower this time, but with equal passion.

Your hands slipped up beneath his kutte, the heat of his skin pouring off of him as you rubbed his back in soothing motions, the act comforting yourself as much as it was him.

The familiar taste and smell of smoke assaulted your nose and transferred onto your tongue, knowing whatever stress he was under right now had caused him to light up one cigarette after the other to try to settle his nerves.

As your kiss faded out, Jax rubbed his nose against the side of yours, his breath hot on your cheek, the stickiness of his skin transferring onto yours.

He leaned his forehead against yours, breathing for a moment while he let his hands roam up over your bum and onto the small of your back, bringing your body even closer to his.

Swaying slightly on the spot, he nuzzled his face into yours even more, a moment of softness before he met your lips again, claiming you in another kiss that started slow and quickly increased in fervor.

His breathing became laboured, struggling to draw in enough air as he kissed you harder and with more desperation, his hands gripping at your flesh beneath his worn shirt.

You could feel his hard cock pressing into you as it strained against his jeans, making you rub yourself on it a couple of times with a teasing grind of your hips, your fingers moving down his stomach to work at the button and zipper while he shrugged out of his kutte.

It landed carelessly on the floor beside you, and you couldn’t mistake the slight wince on his face before it disappeared in his hoodie as he lifted his arms and pulled it over his head, immediately moving back to capture your lips again.

He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of his jeans, walking forward to force you back and further into your house, your hand rubbing him through his boxers before diving inside the waistband to take hold of his cock, stroking the hot, velvety skin of his length that made you moan into his mouth and him push harder on yours.

Both of you blindly made your way toward your bedroom, only pausing your kisses briefly to peel the white t-shirt that clung to his body off of him, your breath knocking out of you as he slammed you against the wall and began lifting the hem of the shirt still covering your body.

Once your naked form was available to him, he trailed his lips down your neck and along your collarbone while his hands smoothed all along your waist, one moving to your breasts where his fingers plucked one of your peaked nipples, the other traveling downward to slip between your legs.

“Jax…” you breathed, your tone needy and filled with lust, the sensation of his fingers entering and withdrawing from your slick hole making your eyes close and your head knock back on the drywall.

After losing yourself in ecstasy for a couple of minutes, you refocused, needing him more than ever, your thumbs hooking in the band of his boxers to tear them down his legs.

Jax took your hand and turned to lead you the short distance to your room, giving you a view of his back where your eyes were drawn to different spots of dark colouring that weren’t part of the ones that made up the large tattoo that covered almost all of it.

Peppered between the image of the Reaper and letters that spelled out ‘California’ were round bruises, his skin raised with welts, and your heart sank in realization of what had caused them; the impact of the bullets that had hit him unable to be disguised even with the protection of kevlar.

You instinctively reached out to lightly trace each one, counting three in total, a mix of emotions rushing through you that were half grateful and half terrified.

“I’m fine.” He repeated the same lie as before, glancing back at you as he paused in his steps and turned to face you.

You dove into him, wrapping your shaky arms around him to hug him so tight you didn’t care if it hurt, feeling his arms encase you in return and his lips press multiple times on the top of your head.

A sourness crept up your restricted throat, your guts twisting almost painfully at the thought of one of those bullets striking a place the bulletproof vest hadn’t been covering, and you frantically began kissing him everywhere you could reach, starting on his chest and making your way up his neck, your hands moving to cup his cheeks where your thumbs smoothed back and forth on his blond scruff. Your lips met again, both of you moaning into each other’s mouths as you transferred all your worry and grief into a display of love, his cock nudging at your core to remind you of what it was he needed right now.

The oncoming tears stung when you squeezed your eyelids together tightly, one slipping out and down your cheek as you retrained your focus on the feel of his tongue tangling with yours instead, the simplicity of needing to just be with him beginning to outweigh anything else.

You finally made it into your room, sitting on the bed and scooching yourself back to lay down with spread legs as he settled between them and sank overtop of you, continuing to kiss you with as much ardor that the skin around your mouth was already beginning to feel raw.

His knee pressed up on your thigh to guide it higher, spreading you out further as he covered your body completely with his, his fingers running along your scalp to send shivers across your skin.

You adjusted your hips, angling yourself to allow for his leaking head to push through your folds, lingering with just the tip of him inside you that somehow already made you feel full.

The skin on his back was tacky as you ran your hands gently up and down it, feeling his muscles flex as he began to move against you, his cock stretching you out inch by inch as he slowly pushed all the way in.

It was ironic; catching glimpses of the silver shell casing that hung from the chain around his neck in the light shining in through the window as it wagged and glided along your chest, filling the space between your hearts that hammered furiously and proved his vitality as if it hadn’t been threatened.

As soon as Jax had pulled into your driveway he felt better, the need to see you and be with you at the forefront of his mind, having bolted out of the clubhouse the minute he had changed out of his tac vest and clothes that were sprayed with holes from the gunshots he could still hear going off in his head.

Now that he had felt your lips against his and the softness of your skin beneath his palms, he was filled with an appreciation for you that he knew he took for granted too many times before, the relief he felt at being with someone who made him feel alive after a close call with death sobering him in a harsh bite of reality.

The way you made him feel was undeniable, giving him a vigor that was too often misplaced and diluted even though you showed him a brighter side to all the darkness that surrounded him, his lack of commitment to anyone but his club wrongly applicable even to you.

He thrusted harder into you, deepening his strokes as he peeled his mouth from yours to watch his cock pump in and out of you, the sound of your pleasure coming out in beautiful whimpers and soft moans while requesting more from him reiterating every reason why he came here tonight in the first place.

Jax dove against your lips again, needing to kiss you in order to stop himself from saying things that he feared may only be a result of how fucking scared he had been earlier, but deep down knowing the words that portrayed how he felt weren’t coming from a place of fear.

It felt different. Crazed and desperate and meaningful, the way he fucked you hinting at something more intent and unwavering than usual.

Sex with Jax was always mind-numbing and intense, but you never let yourself get too far into things knowing he could be gone before you even woke the next day and carrying on without thinking twice about it meaning anything more, his nonchalance always reminding you to take nothing from it other than pleasure.

Gone.

The potency of that little word had your eyes burning again, burrowing an emptiness in your chest that ached to be filled by anything he was generous enough to give.

There were never any labels put on what you were to each other or what this was, but the possibility of losing him at any moment made you desperate to show him what he meant to you, your fingers digging into the flesh on his upper arms so hard as if adding marks of your own on his body would make him stay with you forever.

You reached your face upward to press harder against his mouth, happy when he reciprocated and drove his tongue deeper inside yours, the long, rolling motions of his hips continuing, only now with more calculated force.

Heat bubbled within you, building up into that familiar tingle that taunted to be chased, every nerve in you warning of what drew nearer with each pump and drag of his long cock in and out of you.

The way his hands roamed your body in a calm, but needy way had your mind spinning, like the more he touched you the more it grounded and convinced him that he was still here to enjoy something this good; the gravity of today in no hurry to lose its effectiveness.

Jax paused for a moment, rubbing his hand over your forehead as he searched your eyes for permission or assurance or something more that scared even you, the sound of your panting breaths the only thing audible in the dark quiet of your room. He dipped down to brush your lips again, his scruff holding onto the sweat that had effectively coated every part of his body, lightly teasing with a softer kiss before resuming the purposeful tempo of his hips, the silence between you able to voice that you were both ready to find your high together.

Letting your bodies say what your words couldn't, you met his pace, grinding and rolling deliberately in time with him, the need to help him find his release with the use of your body seeming more important tonight than it ever had.

Jax gripped your face tightly, his fingers squeezing your jawline in an almost frantic way, groaning into your mouth desperately as a signal of his climax.

His thrusts never faltered, continuing to pound you while his hot cum filled you up in aggressive spurts, throwing you into your own orgasm as your clit rubbed against the coarse hairs on his groin. The feel of his cock sliding his thick seed in and out of you drew out your high, prolonging every blissful spark and shudder that tore through your body, the way his sweaty form laid heavily on top of yours a necessary weight that helped you stay rooted in the moment.

He remained buried inside you while you kissed, catching your breaths by sharing each other’s until he slipped from between your legs and crashed onto the covers beside you, his arm falling over his head as he stared up at the ceiling.

Despite having just been as close to him as you possibly could be, you felt a vacancy and longing for him, glancing over at him where you watched him close his eyes, his chest rising and falling quickly as he drew in sharp breaths.

His necklace fell to the side from where it rested on his pec, hanging in his armpit as he continued to breathe, and you carefully picked it up between your fingers, the silver cold against them and a stark contrast to the heat that radiated off his body.

Even though his eyes remained closed, you couldn’t mistake the pained look on his face, a sort of fear and vulnerability that was rare to see on his features, his mortality shattering the usual invincibility that was layered on falsely by his cockiness.

Your chest felt tight, watching him let everything the adrenaline had prevented him from feeling earlier course through him, and you leaned over and traced your fingertips along the creases beside his mouth before pressing your lips to his, relieved when he didn’t hesitate to kiss you back.

His arms came down to wrap around you, pulling your body to rest more on top of his, his hands carding over your back in a comfortable, soothing way.

You couldn’t recount the times sex with Jax had turned into a quick goodbye between smiling kisses and promises to see each other soon only to have days turn into weeks, convincing yourself and him that this was nothing more than a casual, fun fuck, having to disguise the way your heart ached for him and how many butterflies erupted at the mention of his name alone.

None of that mattered tonight, no longer caring if you let your cards show, the severity of tonight outweighing any need to try to stifle your feelings or bother denying that you felt more for him than you ever intended to let happen.

Jax remained pensive and quiet, his boisterous self clouded by his brush with a graver fate, but with the occasional kiss to the top of your head and the way his heartbeat had steadied in your ear, you knew he was comforted in your embrace.

As you laid entwined in your sheets, your leg hooked over his waist while he held your hand and played with your fingers, interlacing them and listlessly running them through his, you thought how you would never be able to control or guarantee if he would be yours to love forever, the way he lived his reckless life a threat to any sort of assurance.

A soft smile tugged at your lips when Jax shifted slightly lower on the bed to line up your face with his, kissing you slowly and clutching your hand in his where he brought it into his chest.

His nose rubbed against yours a couple of times before he settled his head on your pillow, a quiet hum sounding from his mouth, his blue eyes shining with a vitality and promise that for at least another day, he was yours.

---

Please consider reblogging and commenting if you enjoyed reading this story! 💗

Taglist:

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[musings-of-a-rose]

Weighted Blanket

Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 860+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: Chatting about what a great weighted blanket this man would make and so I dedicate this to @laurfilijames. This was not beta read.

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Will Miller Masterlist

Today had been the day from hell. You knew it would be, especially since you’d been out for several days being sick. Morning meetings ran long, everyone scrambling to prepare to open, and then the patients? Don’t even get me started. 

When I finally get into my car at the end of the day, I turn on the ac and rest my head against the headrest taking several deep breaths, just listening to the vents pumping cool air into my hot car. I just have to make it home. A shower is waiting for me and Will should be home today.

Will. 

My amazing boyfriend of a year and a half. Will had to go away for work for a few days and was finally coming home. I know a few days isn’t that long but it killed him to leave me when I was sick. And to be honest, I hated not having him there, sick or not. 

His truck is in the parking lot when I pull in and I smile knowing he’s upstairs. I hurry to our apartment and push my key in the lock, quickly shedding my shoes and tossing my bag down on the little side table before heading towards the kitchen, where sounds and a delicious, heavenly smell were emanating from. I lean against the door frame, just taking in the sight of him. Will, standing at the stove with his back to me, casually making my favorite food, his hair still wet from a shower, navy blue shirt stretched thin over his broad back and thick arms, grey sweatpants hung low on his hips. He clicks off the burner and divvy’s the food onto 2 plates before turning, his face lighting up when he sees me.

“Hey, sweetheart. How was work?” When I don’t answer right away, he let’s out a low whistle. “That bad, huh?”

I nod, pushing off the door frame. “Nothing I didn’t anticipate. Still sucked though.”

“You hungry?”

“Starving. But first I need to shower. I feel so gross.”

Will sets the plates down and takes a few large steps towards me. He moves for a hug and damn do I want one, but I’m gross. People actually spit up on me today. So I sigh, stepping back and Will puts his hands up, freezing in place. 

“Must have been really bad.”

“You don’t even want to know.”

He winks and blows a kiss at me, turning back to finish up dinner. The shower was glorious, the hot water and bubbles relaxing me somewhat, and washing away all of the gross from my skin and hair. I don’t linger, my stomach grumbling as I pull on some pajamas and head straight for the kitchen table, where Will had just set down drinks for us. Before I sit, he pulls me to him, pressing a soft kiss to my lips, his hands cradling my face. 

“I missed you, sweetheart.”

“I really missed you too, Will.” He starts to deepen the kiss, but is interrupted by the loudest grumble yet from my traitor of a stomach. He laughs, placing a hand on my tummy. 

“Let’s get some food in you.”

—----

Dinner was delicious, as usual when Will cooks. It’s not just that he follows the recipe to a t, but he has his own personal flair to it. Will’s cooking can make any sour mood turn sweet. Or maybe that’s just me. 

After our bellies are full, we sit on the couch and I curl my body against his, feeling his large arm wrap around me, the warmth from him seeping into my bones. He kisses the top of my head and rests his own there, both of us content to just be with the other. But my day was hard and before long, I feel my eyelids drooping. Will must have noticed because I swear I blinked and somehow ended up in bed, Will pulling the blankets up around me before crawling in next to me. He tries to pull me to him, but it’s not what I need. He crooks his finger under my chin, lifting my head to look at him through sleepy eyes. 

“Do you need Will blanket?” I nod, my eyes barely open. 

Will helps me lay down on my back, making sure my pillow is adjusted before he drapes half his body over mine, linking one of his muscular legs with mine as he tucks himself over me. His arm drapes over my body, rubbing small circles into my opposite arm. I turn my head and realize my nose is in the perfect spot to nuzzle into his hair, so I do it, inhaling the scent of him. The weight of him on me settles my nerves, the last bit of overstimulation and wired emotions leeching from my body the longer I feel his breathing, his body pressing into mine. 

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too.”

It’s so tender and loving, full of care and I think about how much I love this man as he gently lulls me to sleep.

In the morning, he has different plans for me and I’m so glad I got the rest I needed.

—----

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[miagomez-1509]

[navybrat817]

Ransom question since I see you reblog Charlie Hunnam more and more. Are you in his fandom?

Hi, nonnie. Do you mean in the fandom like discord servers or anything of that sort? If so, no.

I know this may come across as strange, but part of me is nervous about reaching out to other Charlie Hunnam character writers. I don't know if it's because my blog has revolved around mainly Sebastian Stan characters for so long. Or maybe I feel like people have formed their friends and connections and I may not belong there.

And the sad thing is, I have no issue talking to people. I love connecting with others! I'm sure others have felt this way trying to branch out to different fandoms. I just wish I could get out of my headspace.

Love and thanks. ❤️

[stealfromthedevil]

Just a few little things I made because....well, why not?!

[maplemind]

So, I’m reading the Triple Frontier screenplay - it looks like this was a million drafts ago, it’s absolutely nothing like the film…

BUT there are some interesting nuggets of detail, like these ones about Benny…

Some of these details still seem to apply to the finished film, but I wonder if the depression / pills / self doubt / despair thing was a note they gave Garrett for the character? I can kind of see it… 🧐🥺

[free-for-all-fics]

Charlie Hunnam Character Prompts! This list includes: Alan McMichael, King Arthur, Raymond Smith, and Will “Ironhead” Miller. Pls tag me if you’re inspired by any of the ideas presented here. I’d love to read it! 💜

1. After the events of Crimson Peak, Edith and Alan eventually marry. Edith gives birth to a daughter (whether the baby is Alan’s, or Thomas’ from his and Edith’s night in the depot is up to you.) Their daughter inherits the ability to see ghosts just like her mother and grandmother before her.

2. You’re Thomas and Lucille’s daughter but you don’t know. You’ve been raised to believe you’re their sister. Due to the nature of your birth and years spent growing up in the darkness of Allerdale Hall, your eyes have a strong sensitivity to light. You’re in your 20s when Thomas takes you to an optician in New York while he’s courting Edith. Maybe an American doctor will have something to help you that the English doctors back home don’t. You meet Alan, who gives you an eye exam. He helps you when your eyes are giving you trouble by prescribing you a special type of eyeglasses and sunglasses so you can go outside for longer periods of time. He also prescribes you eyedrops/medications and recommends using a parasol for shade while you’re out on walks. Over time, his prescription notes become love notes.

3. You’re the youngest Sharpe and are much more petite than the average woman, standing only at about 4’9. Thomas assures you it’s not your fault, it’s just how you were born. You also attribute your small stature to the lack of necessary sunshine and fresh air from your years growing up confined to the shadows of Allerdale Hall. Your brother rarely let you leave the grounds while you were a child, afraid you’d get sick and your immune system would be too weak to fight off any infection. You’d never gone past the front yard before. Now an adult, you fall in love with Alan McMichael while Thomas is courting Edith. He dances with you at balls, sends you secret love letters, etc. When Thomas discovers these letters, he takes them and locks you in your bedroom. Your attempts to stop him or slow him down do nothing to deter him. Despite your protests and pleas to be let out and for him to give Alan’s letters back, he instead hides them where Lucille wouldn’t find them. You don’t realize he’s locked you in to protect you from her. When Alan comes to Allerdale Hall to rescue Edith, he wants to take you away too and demands to know where you are. During the confrontation, you escape. It’s because of Alan that you discover your true lineage: Your siblings are actually your parents and you’re the product of incest. You’re helpless and horrified when Lucille stabs Alan. You try to run to him, but she holds you back while Thomas stabs him too.

You believe him to be dead until Lucille takes Edith away to sign the papers and Thomas urges you to help him get Alan downstairs, quickly. He’s still alive and your tears of mourning turn into tears of relief. There’s no time for explanations, but Thomas begs your forgiveness and tells you he loves you. While he’s not proud of the act he and Lucille did, he wants you to know you were never a mistake. He gives you a goodbye kiss on the forehead before he rushes to help Edith. While you keep him stable, Alan reveals that, before he was stabbed, Thomas gave him his blessing to marry you. He whispered it so low so Lucille wouldn’t hear. After leaving Crimson Peak, you later wed. Neither of you care about Mrs. McMichael’s snide remarks or disapproval of you. But when you come to be with child, you’re afraid for their health. You worry that your body is too small to safely carry to term, or that your lineage means any children you have are at risk for birth defects. Alan soothes your fears and assures you that you’re strong and capable. No matter what, he will love his child. If they are born anything but healthy, you and he will find a way to still give them the best life possible. You’ll devote your lives to their happiness.

4. Alan McMichael meets you, a woman who has Heterochromia. As an eye doctor, he wants to study this rare eye condition but over time, he gets to know you and falls in love with you. You help him with his studies on the subject and tell him about your life, from your genetic history all the way to the hardships you’ve faced for being different from everybody else. You tell him how you used to wear sunglasses all the time to hide your eyes out of shame. But you’re not ashamed anymore, and Alan further compliments them. The eyes are generally considered the most beautiful feature of the human body and your eyes are no exception. They’re unique, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of.

5. Haunting of Hill House crossover AU (the novel, not the show): You’re Hugh Crain’s youngest daughter and the only family member who survived the hauntings of Hill House. While you grew up on the grounds, no corner of your house was safe. Your mother was killed in the drive up before the house’s completion, leaving you and your older sisters to be raised by a governess. Every room had its haunts. Even the outside garden was haunted by ghosts having picnics. Your eldest sister, Sophia, was given a disturbing monograph on morality from your father, signed in his own blood. As you grew older, you started to feel uneasy around your overbearing father and grew concerned about his intentions with Sophia. Though he was physically absent and often away in Europe with his new wife, you still felt the weight of his presence everywhere within the walls, along with the ghosts. It frightened you. You left Hill House when you turned 18 and never came back, though you missed your sisters dearly and kept writing them letters. You settled in New York, where you met and later married Alan McMichael, a handsome eye doctor. When he shows you his interest in ghost sightings through photography, you’re worried for his safety, still traumatized from your past experiences. You have yet to tell him the full story about Hill House.

Your middle sister sometimes visited with her husband, and you were saddened at her and Sophia’s falling out over the inheritance of the house. No matter how much you urged your eldest sister to leave Hill House, you knew she’d never visit. Sophia later died alone and you were devastated at the news of her death. Alan did his best to console you at her funeral. Your mourning was exacerbated when your middle sister died while trying to move some furniture and dishes out of the house, mere months after Sophia’s funeral. The coroner said she slipped and fell down the stairs, but you knew better. When Alan’s friend, Edith, marries Thomas Sharpe and moves into Allerdale Hall, you come with to help her settle in. But you realize immediately that Allerdale Hall is haunted, in eerily similar ways to how Hill House is. She confides in you about her ability to see ghosts and you do what you can to protect her and keep her safe since you couldn’t do the same for your beloved sisters. But you can’t stay in the house forever, so you go to Alan for help. You finally sit him down and confide in him everything about your experiences at Hill House. You urge him that Edith is now in great danger and needs both his help and yours before it’s too late.

6. You’re Eunice’s best friend and fall in love with her brother, Alan, when he meets you while attending medical school. Neither of you make the connection right away. After all, there’s tons of women named Eunice and you and Alan hadn’t seen each other since you were children. Uh oh when he takes you to meet his family and you realize you’re in love with your best friend’s brother.

7. You’re a mermaid-like creature in Camelot but unlike the Syrens, your magic isn’t dark and you don’t serve Vortigern. You stayed in hiding during his tyrannical reign, since you’re similar to a Ceasg and knew he’d abuse your magic. After Vortigern’s death and the destruction of the tower, the Syrens ventured back out to the deeper waters of the vast sea. You’re captured by Arthur’s men, mistaken for a Syren after saving the new King’s life by kissing him and granting him the ability to breathe underwater for a time. His knights mistook your actions and thought you were trying to eat their friend. You’re kept in the King’s bedchamber, in a large glass container full of water that has enough room to swim around in, but acts as your cage. Arthur interrogates you, asking you all sorts of questions about yourself, where you come from, your connection to the Syrens that served his uncle, etc. But over time, his questions become softer and he talks to you with a spirit similar to that of a young boy who just discovered fairytales are real. He and you fall in love. You use your magic to grant Arthur’s wishes, even if he unknowingly makes them. It takes him a while to realize what’s happening and that his wishes coming true is your doing.

One night, the door above your tank is left unlocked after you’re fed. You pull yourself out and crawl towards Arthur while he sleeps in his bed of furs. You’re so curious about the anatomy of humans and always wanted to see one up close. As you crawl on top of him to touch his face and play with his golden hair, Arthur responds as if in a dream and leans up to kiss you. When he jolts awake and realizes what he’s doing, he lets you touch and admire him, but only for a short while before he carries you back to your tank. He doesn’t want you to dry out. But you keep a firm hold on his hand and encourage him to join you, telling him you want to explore his body further. He relents and you make love under the water. Someone later tries to kidnap you and steal you away for their own greed, and your tank shatters. You flail around like a fish out of water before your tail dries and turns to legs. After he rescues you, Arthur gives you back your freedom. But instead you choose to stay and serve him as your King. Unlike Syrens, You don’t demand blood or human sacrifices. You simply ask for Arthur’s heart, his love, and he gives it to you. He makes you his Queen, as unconventional as his choice in a bride may be. There’s no other he wants for his wife.

8. Pirates of the Caribbean-esque AU: You’re a mermaid/siren but you’re a good natured one that isn’t bloodthirsty or man-eating like your sisters. Arthur captures you and holds you prisoner after he thinks you tried to kill him. He keeps you in a large tank in his private bedchamber because he needs a mermaid’s/siren’s magic to help him in a quest for something. But then you and he start bonding and developing romantic feelings for each other, especially when he realizes you actually saved his life that day you met and weren’t trying to kill him at all. Despite being kept in a tank full of seawater, you become very sick because you’ve been away from the actual sea for too long. Your skin and tail become ashy, your hair loses its luster, the sparkle in your eyes dims. Arthur grows so worried and remorseful for his mistreatment of you that he sets you free, returning you to the ocean where you belong. You wave to him as you swim away and he waves back with stray tears in his eyes.

He doesn’t see you for so long that he thinks you’re gone forever. But then you show up again while he’s sailing out at sea, swimming along the side of his ship and you’re mistaken for a large fish. He’s surprised to see you when you climb over the side and hold yourself up on the railing. He’s left speechless when you reveal you’ve brought him the treasure he sought after in the first place. It wasn’t easy to find, that’s why you were gone so long. You never planned on abandoning him. You kiss him and tell him a secret: If a mortal wins the heart of a merfolk, that merfolk is granted the ability to walk on land when their tail is dry. And a mortal fortunate enough to receive the kiss of a merfolk is granted the ability to breathe underwater. You show Arthur he’s earned your love when your beautiful shimmering tail dries and becomes human legs. He quickly finds you some clothes and asks you to stay with him as his bride and be his Queen. You accept, but tell him you’ll have to return to the sea for short periods of time periodically to stay healthy. When the King and Queen are both missing from the palace, it’s safe to say they’re out swimming.

9. You’re Arthur’s Queen and are once again with child after many failed attempts. You’ve been able to get pregnant before, but the trouble has been keeping it. You’ve suffered many miscarriages so early on that sometimes you wouldn’t even bother telling your husband you were with child, too afraid you’d get his hopes up only to lose it. This put an emotional and mental toll on both you and Arthur. This is the farthest you’ve carried in any pregnancy, so Arthur is especially protective and doting, making sure you have the best of healers. Naturally, everyone in the kingdom hopes the firstborn will be a boy to carry his father’s legacy. Arthur assures you he just wants a healthy wife and child. The birth itself is difficult and you nearly die trying to bring your baby into the world. There’s so much blood. Arthur is terrified but refuses to leave your side. This is his castle, his wife, and his child. So he’s going to hold your hand and caress your hair through it all, even if it takes hours. He encourages you and tells you you’re the strongest woman he knows. When the babe is born, it’s a girl. You’re afraid you’ve disappointed the kingdom and your husband, but Arthur is overjoyed at the arrival of his little princess. She is his heir and he loves both her and you unconditionally. A huge celebration is in order. But first, you must rest and recover.

10. Ever after AU: Your stepmother works you like a servant for years following your father’s death, while plotting and scheming to get her own spoiled and selfish daughter on the throne. You pretend to be a courtier to save a man’s life, inadvertently catching the eye of King Arthur. He keeps pursuing you despite all your attempts to evade him, so you give him your deceased mother’s name when he pushes for yours. You didn’t think you’d see him again, but fate has you crossing paths and meeting in secret. A romance eventually blossoms. You show him you’re a country girl at heart with a strong spirit, not afraid to get dirty, climb trees, use a blade, etc. You want more than anything to tell Arthur the truth of who you are, but keep losing your courage at the last moment. He’s just so wonderful and you love him so much, you don’t want to hurt him with your deception. A masque ball is being held for the King to choose a bride so Camelot may finally have a Queen. Your stepmother lashes you for your insolence towards your stepsister after she tries to take your mother’s dress. She locks you in the cellar but you escape.

Your stepmother tries to sabotage you by assaulting you and exposing you as a fraud and devious little pretender in front of the entire royal court, but her scheme backfires terribly when Arthur reveals he doesn’t care about your status as a servant. He holds your hand as he tells your stepmother that she seems to have forgotten herself and must be unaware of his own background. He grew up in a brothel under the care of prostitutes. He loved those women like family and he rose up out of gutter in the village streets of Londinium through years of hard work and blood, sweat, and tears. He has your stepmother and terrible stepsister taken away to be dealt with later and announces you as his intended bride. That is, if you’ll have him. The decision is yours. Meanwhile, your other stepsister, who is much more gentle and kind hearted, has been in a blooming romance of her own: She’s falling in love with one of Arthur’s Knights of the Round Table. Upon your marriage and coronation, your stepsister is appointed your lady-in-waiting and becomes part of the royal court. On your wedding night, Arthur discovers the lashing marks on your back and is horrified. He’s so livid he would’ve sentenced your stepmother to death for daring to lay such a violent hand upon you, but you talk him down. He strips her of her title in front of the royal court and, at your behest, sentences her and your horrible stepsister to lifelong servitude. Neither you nor your other stepsister have spared a thought for your cruel stepmother or odious stepsister, too busy in your happy new lives.

11. You’re thrown overboard when the ship you’re traveling on gets stuck in a terrible and merciless thunderstorm. As you try to keep yourself above water, you hear voices shouting what you think is your name. Lightning cracks and starts a fire on the ship, but that’s all you remember as you hit your head and black out. You awaken on the shoreline, found by men who later reveal themselves as Knights of the Round Table. They take you to their King, Arthur. When you reveal you don’t remember anything but a shortened version of your name, Arthur takes it upon himself to look after you while you recover from your ordeal. At least until your memory returns or your family can be found. He has his knights work on locating your family while he shows you his castle, takes you on tours of Camelot, etc. Over time, your friendship turns into a romance. Little do either you or Arthur know, you’re actually a Viking Princess who was on voyage to Camelot to marry Arthur. The very same Viking Princess who is believed to be dead. Your arranged marriage was meant to strengthen an alliance between Norway and England in exchange for protection, resources, trade routes, weapons, etc. But your supposed death has created a new array of problems for Arthur as he’s tried to draft up a new agreement with your mourning mother and/or father, not realizing he has their amnesiac daughter right under his roof. What happens when the truth is revealed?

12. Arthur stumbles across a baby girl in a basket drifting in the water. This child was watched over and protected by the Lady of the Lake, who instructs Arthur to take you in and raise you as his daughter. He does so, and you grow up a Princess of Camelot. But as you grow, you show signs of possessing magic similar to that of mermaids, water nymphs, or fairies. You have unique abilities over controlling water and can even influence people when you sing. You may have the ability to breathe underwater or swim at incredible speeds. Your father still loves you and does what he can to help you control your powers, but he may need the help of the Mage to further teach you, since he’s just a human man who has no knowledge of your birth or who your natural parents were. The Lady of the Lake didn’t tell him much when she gave you to him.

13. You’re either Roz’s sister and Mickey’s sister-in-law, or you’re Mickey’s sister and Roz’s sister-in-law. The choice is up to you. Either way, you and Ray find yourselves in a high risk, high reward romance as you try to hide your affair from Roz and Mickey. Ray started off as your personal bodyguard and you’re worried they wouldn’t understand or would be against mixing love and business for whatever reason. You’d rather not see Ray get fired or killed, so you keep it secret. Ray also enjoys living too much to die just yet, thank you. But maybe Roz and Mickey wouldn’t be angry that you’ve kept secrets from them, just disappointed that you’d think so little of them. You’re Mickey and Roz’s sister (in-law) and they love you. Ray has been like family for years too, and there’s no better man for you than him. But maybe at the time you were just too scared and foolish to realize that they’d always have your back and support you no matter what.

14. You’re Ray’s wife. You used to be a journalist, but your articles caught the interest of an espionage agency. They gave you an interview under the guise of a publishing company and, during it, you noticed the organization's hidden cameras and microphones. You discovered the interview’s true purpose and passed the test. Your set of skills got you hired on the spot, and you built a career as one of the top spies in the organization. You’ve obtained valuable intel while infiltrating galas, fundraisers, house parties, board meetings, etc. But you promised Ray not to go on any more missions once you became pregnant. So you retire, or work from the safety of your own office at home instead of actively being out on the field. Despite both you and Ray laying low and taking as many precautions as possible to keep yourselves safe, somehow enemies of your agency or Mickey Pearson had discovered your location and/or connection to Ray. They sabotage your vehicle and set you up to get into a serious car accident in an attempt to eliminate you. They want to use your death to get to your husband and ultimately yours and/or his boss. Your body is gone from the crash scene, so you’re believed to be missing or dead.

What Ray doesn’t know until later is that Mickey pulled some strings to get you out of there and sent you to a high security hospital without the enemy agents knowing. You were swapped out with a body too damaged for recognition while the enemy agents were distracted by a diversion and they took it, believing it to be you. Ray is sent your coordinates from a burner phone and drives as fast as he can to get to you, scared half to death about you and your child. If either of you are hurt or dead, there will be hell to pay. There were rules to this game, one of the most important being to never go after wives or children. The people who targeted and attacked you will pay. Once Ray and Mickey are through with them, they’ll wish they had never been born. There are fates much worse than death, after all. But first, Ray needs to be the doting husband and take extra good care of you and his unborn child. You need him now more than ever.

15. Ocean’s 8/11/12-esque fic with Ray and you. The plot is up to you, just imagine an action packed heist with him.

16. Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU: You and your husband, Ray, had been attending marriage counseling since it was on the rocks for a while and divorce seemed imminent. You were working for rival agencies at the time and were each ordered to kill the other. But neither of you realized you were each other’s target because the names you’d been given on the slip of paper were aliases you and Ray used. You also wore masks or disguises to infiltrate places. Your rivalry had resulted in multiple massive shootouts or perfectly laid traps that you and Ray survived and got out of. One such shootout nearly destroyed your house and ended with you aiming at each other’s heads, but once the masks/disguises got knocked off and you each realized who you were trying to kill, you stopped and threw down your weapons. Ray told you he loved you and couldn’t kill you. You told him the same. You made love and reconciled, then teamed up instead. You became such a power couple that your employers sent other assassins after you both to finish the job. In present day, you and Ray hold hands and tell your marriage counselor that your careers are going great and your marriage is thriving.

17. You’re Ray’s neighbor and have no inkling about who he really is or what he does. He befriends you and invites you over to his house to cook dinner for you on occasion. You enjoy these cozy evenings where you help him in the kitchen, then relax on the couch and watch a movie by the fire. Or sometimes you just sit and talk, his arm laying over the back of the couch behind you. In the darkness of the room while the movie plays, you’ve shared fleeting kisses and Ray’s arm has moved to your shoulder so he can hold you close. Ray has never experienced this kind of romantic affection before since he’s been so focused on his work, but it feels nice with you. You’ve asked about his job, but he’s told you something mundane that’s just a cover. The less you know, the safer you’ll be. You don’t even know who Mickey Pearson is and Ray wants to keep it that way.

On one of these date nights, he finally takes you to bed. While you’re making love, you tell Ray you love him. In the wee hours of the morning, you crawl out from underneath him without waking him up and throw on one of his shirts. You climb down the stairs leading to the basement, either in search of a midnight snack or wanting to make breakfast since he made dinner the night before. You open the freezer, only to discover the body of Aslan. Ray is awoken by your screams and grabs his gun, afraid you’re hurt or there’s an intruder. You hear his footsteps rushing towards where you are as he calls your name. Oh god, what do you do? What happens now?

18. Something similar to that scene from The Godfather Part 2: You’re Ray’s wife (maybe you’re pregnant) and you’re in bed when you ask him to close the curtains. That’s when he notices the snipers and has you get down as gunfire destroys your bedroom. While you fall out of the bed with a cry, Ray crawls towards you and lays on top of you to shield you with his body. He asks if you’ve been hit, and you’re maybe hit in the shoulder or have a superficial graze. Either way, seeing your blood is enough to make Ray livid. He’s like Mickey in that he doesn’t give a damn about money but he is very emotional about how someone dared to target his home, his family! Attacked in his bedroom where his wife sleeps and where his children may play with their toys. The people who did this are not going unpunished, and Mickey would definitely help his friend and consigliere in getting retribution. Those people will wish they’d never been born once he and Mickey get to them. Death is too quick a mercy.

19. Threesome between Will, you and Catfish. That is all. That’s the prompt.

20. You’re Catfish’s sister who works as a makeup artist in Hollywood. Your brother got his pilot license suspended on a coke bust because he was covering for you. You were in deep shit and needed his help to get out, nearly in hysterics from all your panicking. He loves you so much he’d do anything to protect you. But you know how much Frankie loves to fly, so you feel immensely guilty for what happened. For both yours and your brother’s sake, you go into rehab. You’re finally ready to accept help for your drug addiction. In the past you fell in with Dieter Bravo, an Oscar-winning actor who you used to do makeup on for his movies. You’d talk for hours while he was in your chair, and eventually you started sleeping together and doing drugs with him. For a while it was just about sex and drugs, but then you fell in love with him and he with you. You saved Dieter from an OD and that was when he realized he loved you.

You had a lot of fun and good times with Dieter when you were fuck buddies and dating, but you also had a lot of bad times and rough patches. Eventually you and Dieter made the mutual decision to break things off amicably, but you’re still best friends to this day. You meet Will when he picks you up from rehab while your brother is busy with his new baby, and from there you become friends. The longer you stay clean, the more you and Will get to know each other and fall in love. Catfish and the guys are so proud of you, supportive in every step of your recovery. When you run into Dieter again, he’s excited to tell you about Anika and his own journey towards getting clean. You meet Anika and Dieter meets Will. You’re both so happy for each other and how your lives have turned around for the better.

[artemiseamoon]

A Hermits Journey

1: This isn’t home

A oneshot slowly turning into a fic | revised 3.27.23

Words: 2,213

Week 22 @writer-wednesday

The Teller brothers

Au where Garrett Hedlund is Jackson’s younger brother, Noah Teller

This is a oneshot for now! Will be expanded at another time.

This is a preview * read in full on A03 * for now it’s just a oneshot since my plate is over full

Jax was out of places to look when the phone call came. It was just a few seconds long, brief and to the point. Noah was never one for words, not after dad's death at least. Everyone took it their own way, for Noah, he shut down and remained that way.

It didn’t matter he still had Jax, mom, the club if he wanted it; Noah didn’t want anything to do with any of it. He was known for packing up and vanishing for a long time, much to Gemma’s frustration. Sometimes it didn’t even feel like Jax had a brother left. Sometimes it felt like Noah died too.

Noah’s been gone for 11 months, the longest stint yet. Gemma was all worked up, sure her boy was dead. She was in a frenzy and looking into reports and John Doe’s. Jax had a bit more hope, he knew his brother, to an extent, and he knew Noah would pop up again at some point, especially if he got himself in a hole he couldn't charm his way out of.

Even so, understanding aside, Jax was pissed. He hated when Noah disappeared like this. As predicted, Noah eventually reached out, he used his one phone call to contact Jax.

.

This place was in the middle of nowhere, all types of seedy with years of dirt and memories ground into the wood floor. Faded stickers and posters on the walls with a few vintage beer signs.

Motorhead blared from the speakers and the bar top was packed, shoulder to shoulder. The men looked the part for this place, and their sole focus was the busty bartender, thought they did eye up Jax's kutte when he walked in.

The bartender was older with a cute figure and confidence through the roof. Jax could tell she's been at this a long time, maybe even at this same bar for years. She used the moth to a flame effect she had on the men to her advantage; her tip jar was already overflowing, and she had a few bills tucked in the red lace of her bra.

As Jax observed her, she made eye contact and winked at him before going back to her task. Jax responded with a warm smile, then turned his attention back to his brother, seated directly across him in the booth.

Noah was doing that thing where he stares off at nothing, broody, full of angst. A 90s grunge icon in the wrong era dressed in all black and leather instead of flannel: eerily silent on the outside but a turbulent storm brewing on the inside. Noah looked the same, but different. His hair was longer than Jax's now, and he wore a similar kind of beard.

Continuing to say nothing, Noah brought his glass to his lips and took a drink.

“You lucked out brother, we have friends down here. Charges dropped.” Jax said, cutting into the sounds of the bar and thick silence between them.

Noah made eye contact, his expression remaining unchanged. “I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“Jesus Christ- " Jax sighed, then rested his arms on the table, "I know you didn’t, you're my fucking kid brother! Am I supposed to just let you rot in a cell?"

Noah shrugged, looking away as his jaw ticked.

"Look man, you can’t keep doing this shit. It’s killing mom.” Jax paused, waiting until his brother looked him in the eye to finish. “And me.”

Read more here (A03) ⬅️

More writer Wednesday

More SOA

[laurfilijames]

Flat To Filled

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.9k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Tig being a bit of a perv. Oral sex (M receiving). Unprotected intercourse. Sex in exchange for a service.

Summary: Your flat tire turns out to be a very happy nuisance, and a scene right out of a porno.

A/N: I got a flat tire a couple of months ago and came up with this idea while waiting for it to be repaired, though sadly not by Jax Teller.

---

"You've got to be fucking kidding," you mumbled under your breath, seeing the low tire pressure light illuminate on your dash.

It didn't seem like that long ago you had finished paying off the loan used to purchase the new set of tires, and as you put your car in park and climbed out of the driver's seat, you prayed it just needed some air and wasn't completely flat.

"Fuck."

The tire was smooshed right against the hot asphalt, and crouching down to run your hand along the circumference of the wheel, your fingers caught on a screw buried into the rubber.

At least you weren't rushing anywhere in particular, you thought, having only been on your way to grab yourself a coffee from the cafe in downtown Charming, laughing in realizing the irony in the situation that you were meant to be saving money anyway. The silver lining was that your flat just so happened to take place about two minutes down the road from Teller-Morrow Automotive Repair, and with the sun shining and feeling pleasantly warm on your skin, you didn't necessarily mind going for a walk.

The gates of the entrance were open as you approached, the yard full of Harley's and various members of the nefarious motorcycle club along with some vehicles actually being repaired by mechanics, your presence quickly being noticed by everyone in the vicinity.

"And how can I help you, sweetheart?" a man with black, curly hair and soul-piercing blue eyes drawled, his pervy tone making you grin and tilt your head in amusement as he stood straight from leaning over his bike and puffed his chest out, his hands securing themselves on his belt to help draw your attention to his crotch.

"I have a flat," you began to explain, hooking your thumb over your shoulder in the direction of where your car sat abandoned on the road. "I was hoping someone could take a look and hopefully patch it."

"Yeah, probably, but there's something else I can definitely help you with."

"Jesus Christ, Tig," another man's voice sounded from inside the garage. "Stop preying on innocent people."

The sight of the man defending you made your heart leap into your throat, and suddenly the mid-afternoon sun wasn't the cause of the sheen of sweat growing on your skin.

Messy, blond hair that rested at his shoulders surrounded his gorgeous face like a halo, and if the blue eyes on the first man were anything to admire, his were like looking into an abyss that would swallow you whole.

He didn't shy away from looking you over up and down, a crooked smile dressing his lips that were surrounded by scruffy, bleached stubble, his smile only spreading more to create lines around his mouth when his friend walked past him and slapped his shoulder.

"See, told ya."

He strutted into the garage while still looking back at you obviously, nearly tripping over his own feet, leaving you and the living incarnation of Helios standing somewhat awkwardly.

He nodded his head behind you, "So, what's wrong?"

"Just a flat. There's a screw in it. I was hoping someone would have time to patch it for me."

"Yeah, let me take a look," he grinned again, squinting slightly from the bright sunlight as he wiped his oily hands on a rag he held.

You took note of his slender fingers and how rough and worked yet soft the skin on his hands looked, curious as to what else they were capable of, and how the way the large rings that adorned them enhanced the appeal to feel them on your body even more.

"Is it just down the road?" he asked, beginning to walk over to the wall where a bunch of keys were hung on hooks.

"Yeah, about two minutes," you confirmed, remaining in place.

He held a set of keys up and tossed them up in the air before catching them, "I'll go give it a lift, then. You can wait here if you want. Despite your first impressions they're all pretty harmless."

His smile had you nearly bursting into flames, and holding out your own keys for him to take, your fingers brushed each other, igniting even more heat within your body.

He winked at you as he walked confidently over to the tow truck parked on the far side of the row of bikes, allowing you the opportunity to eye-fuck him just as he had you minutes ago.

Even with how baggy his jeans sat on his lower half, you could tell he had a perfectly plump ass that would no doubt power some hammering thrusts, and his back and arms were shaped nicely by strong muscles that showed through his t-shirt and mechanic's shirt that had the sleeves torn off, making you bite your lip as you thought how this unfortunate event was proving to be anything but.

It didn't take long for him to return with your car being pulled behind the tow truck, flashing you another smile as he hung his left arm out the window, a cigarette hanging from his inviting lips.

You watched the production as a few other mechanics went over and began helping him, the assistance he received allowing opportunities for glances your way, his silent flirting making you flush and shift on your feet.

Within minutes the tire was off and being carried into the bay of the garage, and as he got closer to you, you were able to see the name embroidered in black thread on the right side of his chest.

Jax.

You mouthed it, the whisper of those three letters feeling like silk on your tongue, and you wondered how saying it out loud and on repeat in the throes of pleasure would make him react; all smiles and that boyish confidence shining brightly as he basked in your praise, or a brutal and claiming side coming to reveal itself after being encouraged by your mantra.

He slammed your tire down on the workbench closest to the door and wiped the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand, smearing dirt and grime across it, and gave you a smile and a nod as he parted those luscious lips and started talking.

"So, you from around here?"

"Yup," you confirmed, placing your hands in the back pockets of your shorts to force your chest out a little further.

He hummed as he started to work, "I would've remembered a pretty face like yours."

"Do you say that to all the girls you help?"

Jax shook his head, his eyebrows rising on his forehead to crease it. "Nope."

He looked completely innocent despite it being a blatant lie that he could barely get away with, and you knew that was exactly how a man like him was likely to get everything he wanted.

"Well, I really appreciate you dropping whatever else you were in the middle of to sort me out," you thanked. "Jax…" you added, his name sounding sinful from how lusty your voice suddenly became.

He tucked his bottom lip in his teeth, smiling big even with the restriction, his eyes dancing and alight with mischief as his hands paused what he was doing.

"My pleasure."

His words were spoken with such conviction, as well as what you hoped was a promise or at least a hint at a request, and for whatever reason, the more you were in his presence and talking to him, the more daring and confident you felt yourself becoming.

"Is it?" you asked, watching as he leaned against the workbench, his forearms flexing and showing off the tattoo decorating his right one, his glare serious and almost threatening while his lips continued to feign innocence.

"I think it's going to be."

Time passed too quickly for your liking, your very effortless and charged conversations with Jax tempting you into driving the pocket knife that you kept tucked away in your purse into one of your other tires just so you could spend more time with him; his efficient handy-work resulting in your tire being back on your car and good as new in the fastest forty-two minutes of your life.

“You're all set there, darlin’,” he drawled, squinting at you in the beaming sun with a crooked grin as he wiped his hands on the rag he pulled back out of his jeans.

“Looks like it. Thank you.”

“You have somewhere you need to be?” he asked, leaning against your car comfortably.

“Not necessarily,” you answered, part of you praying he would extend an invitation to something that involved you staying longer and having those lips that were still curled into a smile pressed against yours. They were perfectly shaped and full and impossible to stop admiring, and the fantasy of learning how good they would feel refused to quit playing in your mind, deeming him a talented kisser without even knowing.

"How much do I owe you?" you asked, the assumption that this repair would cost the equivalent of at least twenty of those speciality coffees you were on your way to getting making a pit settle in your stomach.

His bottom lip tucked between his teeth and he chewed on it while still managing to grin mischievously, the brightness of it reaching his eyes.

"I think we can work something out."

You swore you had to be dreaming, finding yourself being led through Samcro's clubhouse and down a hallway where you were continuously stopped to be pressed against the wall and kissed until you were breathless, the sound of your bodies slamming against the wood panels and your shared laughs drowning out the loud music coming from the common area.

It always felt good to be right, you thought, your speculations that Jax knew how to kiss exceptionally well turning out to be more than correct, the way his tongue claimed your mouth and his lips sealed against yours making you quickly abandon all morals and sense of reality.

Your fingers tangled in his hair as he walked backwards with you into a room, the scent of stale smoke mixed with a bit of weed overpowering the hint of cologne that lingered, and once inside, Jax pushed the door shut and shoved you up against it.

He slowly peeled his face away from yours, taking a deep, steadying breath, his eyes trailing from your chest up to your lust-drunk eyes while his arms braced on either side of you to cage you between him and the door.

"We do accept cash, too," he smirked, his smile growing when you laughed and shook your head.

"I'm afraid I don't have any on me…"

"See that's too bad," he said, his tone falsely serious. "Non-paying customers tend to get fucked in a situation like this…"

The emphasis and double-meaning he put on that one sinful word made you ache and visibly squirm, and you did your best to keep your hands to yourself while you waited for him to move first, only to fail miserably.

You gripped at the edges of his gray mechanics shirt at the same time your mouth crashed against his, peeling it off his arms with his help as you walked forward, forcing him backward into the middle of the room where he ran into a chair, causing both of you to laugh between kisses.

Next came his somehow still freshly white t-shirt, the pure glee that overcame you when you whisked it over his head and laid eyes on his smooth skin and impressively ripped torso making you feel dizzy, and trying to get to the rest of him as quickly as you could, you hurried to unbuckle his belt and send his jeans that were already half-way down his ass to the floor.

You glared at him hungrily as you reached out for his hard cock that strained against his loose boxers that managed to be an even brighter white than his shirt, and stroked it through the cotton appreciatively, watching his head tip slightly back and his eyes close as he succumbed to your touch.

"Fuck," he chuckled, his abs contracting as he did, hooking his thumbs in the waist of his trunks to get rid of them.

"May I?" you asked, the innocence in your request contrasting heavily to how impurely you were looking at him.

"Since you asked nicely," he drawled, holding his hands up away from his body to allow you to do whatever you wanted.

With an excited and satisfied grin, you tugged on his shorts, your mouth instantly watering as his cock sprung free from them and bounced wildly before you, his size and girth and perfectly veiny shaft confirming that the man standing proudly naked before you was utterly perfect.

"Like what you see, darlin'?"

Rather than answering, you wrapped one hand behind his neck and pulled him into you, kissing him madly and desperately while your other hand took hold of his silky flesh and pumped him slowly from tip to base, feeling him flex in your palm.

You basked in this for a couple of minutes until Jax regained control and guided you somewhat forcefully over to lean against the edge of the desk that sat against the wall, his thigh wedging between yours as he gathered your wrists in his one hand and held them up over your head, his other one left to trail up your side, pulling your shirt up along with it.

His mouth attacked your neck while he teased you, the sensation making you roll your hips on his thigh to get some friction on your needy pussy, and when he growled as he got to your breasts that you hadn't bothered to restrict in a bra today, you nearly came undone.

"Fuck, you're hot," he muttered, roughly tearing up your shirt to remove it from you, and he took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him before diving to your mouth again, his hand squeezing at the fullness of your chest and pinching your nipple between his fingers.

You whined into his mouth and arched your back in order to get closer to his touch, your body begging to be used by him in any way possible, this self-made porno you were suddenly living out making you hornier than you've ever been before.

"Are you gonna fuck me, or what?" you asked, his keen attention making you feel bold and powerful.

He chuckled and shook his head, his blond locks moving with the action.

"Patience, darlin'. You need to remember who's paying who here."

You nodded and smirked, pushing off the edge of the desk to take hold of his cock again while you slowly sank to your knees, looking up at him through your lashes to see a very satisfied and eager look on his face.

Pressing your lips against his smooth tip, you spread the precum that leaked from it across them and stuck your tongue out, that first delectably salty taste of him making you swallow thickly as your mouth watered, your thirst for him skyrocketing. You gripped the base of his shaft as you eased him inside your mouth, taking him slowly inch by inch until you reached your hand and your nose was tickled by his flaxen hairs.

Bobbing on and off of his length and swirling your tongue around his head each time you passed it, you worked him steadily with your hand, the sound of his appreciative curses and groans making you squirm and shift on your knees and moan as well, taking him deep into your throat so he could feel the vibrations on your windpipe.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he hissed. "That's it, baby."

His praise sent a shiver down your spine, making your nipples harden even more in addition to you gagging on him each time he pounded the back of your throat, the way he bucked his hips and lightly held your head in place encouraging you to want to be wrecked by him in whatever way he saw fit.

He laughed in disbelief as he gently held your chin and told you to stop, mad at himself for doing it, but not ready to end this with you yet.

"Fuck, you're good. That pretty little mouth of yours sure has some talent," he purred, using his thumb to wipe the corner of your mouth.

"Then you should've let me finish…"

Jax chuckled again as he helped you up off the floor, a sound that made you melt each time, his eyes shining with a playfulness that matched his cheeky smile.

"Oh, no," he said, his eyebrows creeping up his forehead. "Your debt isn't going to be repaid that easily."

Your breathing became shallow as the way he looked at you turned from kind and light-hearted to intense and almost dark, and he grabbed your face and kissed you roughly, stealing your breath from you as he leaned into you in an overpowering way, his cock poking you and reminding you of its impressive size that you were about to have to try to handle.

He snuck a hand between your heaving bodies, cupping between your legs where an intense heat radiated, and began to rub your pussy through your shorts with a taunting pressure.

"This pussy's gonna feel good, isn't it?" he asked, dragging his hand harder over the material that kept you from him, the whole act and his question driving you mad. "I bet it's nice and tight…"

"Fuck, yes…" you whined, grinding against his hand even more, your head tipping to the side in an offering for him to kiss your neck.

He did, granting you one of your many wishes, sucking and nipping at the tender skin where your pulse hammered frantically.

After another minute or two of torture, you raked your nails up along his back, feeling desperate for him to give you what you so badly needed.

"Please, Jax," you begged. "I'm so wet."

He pulled away from your neck, kissing your swollen lips sloppily as he removed his hand from between your legs.

"Yeah? Lemme see, sweetheart…"

With deft fingers he ripped open the button on your shorts and tugged them down your thighs aggressively, his pupils blown wide when he noticed how your slick had darkened your panties and soaked them through completely, the corner of his lips curling upward menacingly.

He leaned in and kissed you again, a little sweeter this time, a display of his appreciation for how ready you were for him and how much he was enjoying this game with you.

That only lasted for so long though, the more he danced his tongue with yours the more he felt completely out of control, the need to drive his cock into you coming to the forefront of his mind once again just as it had since the minute he met you.

He released your cheeks from his gentle hold and used both of them to grab onto the side of your thong, tearing them off of you barbarically, the sound of ripping cotton making both of you more feral than before.

You sat up on the desk, holding his head to keep him kissing you as he settled between your legs, his cock nudging your inner thigh dangerously close to your center. It was all heavy, panting breaths and the sound of teeth clashing together as you went at each other furiously, your fingers making a tangled mess out of those gorgeous blond tresses, your nails no doubt leaving red scratches all over his pale skin.

With a sharp inhale to catch his breath, Jax broke the messy seal of your lips enough to look down at you naked and spread beneath him, slipping his fingers slowly through your wet folds to gather your slick on his fingertips, admiring you before slamming them inside you deep enough that his rings prevented him from going any further, pumping in and out before hooking them to massage your g-spot.

Your cries filled the room, the build-up to this making everything feel more intense than you could bear, your hips moving to meet the tempo of his hand enthusiastically and instinctively.

"You want that dick?" Jax asked breathlessly, his cock throbbing and ready to explode if he held off any longer, the sensation of your pussy clenching his fingers and coating them with your juices making it worse.

He was always diligent about wrapping up when it came to sleeping with new chicks, but something about you made him want to bury his bare cock deep inside you and drive into you again and again, the thought of seeing your cunt leaking with his load sending him into a fury.

"Yes…fuckkkk!" you screamed, your consent barely past your lips as he pushed into you, stretching you out over his thick girth.

A shuddered breath escaped your lips as you sought to adjust to his size, Jax giving you no mercy as he immediately started hammering into you with ruthless force.

By the time he had rammed himself into the deepest part of you, you were both so close to falling apart, not taking long to get each other right back to the edge where you had been left hanging, the rhythm chosen by him and matched by you one that was sure to put this desk through the wall in no time.

It shook precariously beneath you, and it seemed the threat of breaking the damn thing only spurred Jax on more, his brutal thrusts increasing as he worked even harder to ruin you.

His skin became slippery as he began to work up a sweat, your hands gliding over his shoulders and up the column of his neck as you tried to hold on to him as best you could.

His praise at how good you felt was broken up by a variety of curses, the way he sounded as he got so lost in you making the pressure in your core erupt rapidly, and you strangled his cock through your release, soaking him enough for you to hear the lewd squelching through your mind-numbing euphoria.

"Fuck!" he roared, his last thrusts slowing in pace as you coaxed out his end, his cock pulsing inside your choking walls and filling you up with his hot cum in vicious spurts.

His sweaty hair was stuck to his forehead as he leaned it against yours, chuckling while he fought to catch his breath.

"That was…"

"Yeah…" you panted, hardly able to believe just how incredible it was, your whole body tingling and alive with pleasure.

He smiled against your lips before kissing you sweetly, humming into your mouth while he remained inside you, wanting to relish in the after effects for as long as he could.

You made out until he eventually slipped from you, the loss making you whine and you both to slowly cease your kisses.

“I've never done anything like this before,” you admitted, feeling totally liberated in your behaviour as you watched his sweaty, naked, and absolutely perfect form step away from you, his smile beaming at you once again.

He winked at you, “Me neither," and ran a hand through his hair to try to fix the mess you had made of it.

“For some reason I don't believe that," you chided, tilting your head as you remained in your spot, his cum starting to drip out of you.

“You shouldn't," he purred, strutting back over to you, his eyes fixed between your legs where you could tell by his expression that he enjoyed what he saw.

He held your waist, his head tipping to the side as he looked down at you, his voice low and lusty when he spoke.

"Still have nowhere to be?"

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered @stealfromthedevil @kmc1989 @theesirenteller

I went ahead and tagged everyone I have written down for my Charlie/Will Miller taglist so my apologies if you're not interested in being tagged in Jax fics and I will happily add or remove anyone as they wish!

[musings-of-a-rose]

Build Me Up - Chapter 4 (Final Chapter)

Pairing: William “Ironhead” Miller x f!reader (inclusive - stock photos suck)

Word Count: 3200+

Rating: M for mature - 18+ only!

Warnings: Mature themes and some canon mentioned. Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: The last chapter! I never intended this fic to be super long, but I loved their meet cute(?) idea and had to write it. As always, I take asks for any of the fics I write for, even if it’s just questions or a little drabble! Thank you for waiting so LONG inbetween that first and second chapter. Y’all the real MVP’s!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

--If you like this, please let the algorithm know by reblogging! This way it can be shared with multiple people (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

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Build Me Up Masterlist

General Masterlist

Will Miller Masterlist

<<;Chapter 3<<

Several months later, Will takes you out for drinks after a nice dinner, your usual Friday night date. It was a great chance for you both to catch up on what the other was doing during the week, as sometimes life got so busy you’d barely get a chance to speak. This last week, Will had been out of town at a few different bases, making his speech about joining the Armed Forces, so your conversations take longer than normal. Will places a drink order with the bartender, leaning against the bar on his elbow as he watches you talk about the kids archery camp you’ve been instructing, eyes lighting up as you talk about them, when his eyes glance over your shoulder and his smile drops, his eyes instantly becoming hard. You stop talking and follow his gaze to a really pretty women, tall, lean, and blonde.

His ex fiance.

She’s with a friend but splits from them, pointing to the bar directly where Will was standing. You try to drag him away but it’s like he’s frozen, unable or unsure of what to do. 

“Oh. Hey, Will.”

He stares at her for a few moments longer than socially acceptable. “Ashley.”

She glances at you and back at Will, making the connection that you’re together. She sticks a hand out to you. 

“Hi, you must be the new girlfriend. I’m Ashley. Will and I used to…well, we were engaged.” She says the last word like it holds some giant meaning, like she was hoping it would cause a fight between you both. You take her hand, gripping it firmly and shake.

“Oh so you’re the ex fiance? Amber?”

Her eyes narrow at you slightly. “Ashley.”

“Right, right. I knew it was something that starts with A.” 

She glares at you for a second before rallying, schooling a look of indifference on her face. “So, how long have you two been dating?” She looks at Will but he seems incapable of answering her so you take over.

“About a year.”

She raises her eyebrows. “A year? You made it a whole year?” She sounds like she’s shocked, as if she wasn’t with him long enough to be engaged. 

“Yeah. Will’s great.”

She smiles at you, but the look in her eyes, like she knows some terrible secret and is going to save you from something, makes you want to punch her even more. She leans in closer to you, but still speaks loud enough for Will to just hear it over the sounds of the bar.

“He can be…a lot. Did he tell you to say that?”

“What?”

She leans in closer. “Blink twice if you’re in trouble.”

The color on Will’s face drains and you square your shoulders, sitting up straighter as you turn the full force of your gaze on her. 

“That’s really not funny. And honestly? I’m glad you couldn't handle him because that made him available for me. Will is the best thing to ever happen to me-”

Ashley waves her hand, cutting you off. “Yeah, yeah. Just wait until he finally shows you who he is in bed. A real freak. If you need help, just blink and I’ll call someone.”

You stand abruptly, your barstool wobbling dangerously on one leg as you do. “You know, I have to thank you.”

She blinks at you. “Oh? So you do need help?”

“Thank you for showing me exactly what a terrible person you are. It’s easy to see who the problem is. Now, unkindly, get the fuck out of our way.” You take Will’s hand and pull him up, Ashley staring at you open mouthed as you push past her, Will’s hand squeezing yours as you make your way through the crowd and out of the packed bar, heading straight for his truck. Will fishes his keys from his pocket and unlocks it, hopping in and you do the same. He starts it but doesn’t move, letting the ac cool it down. 

“What a fucking bitch,” You say, half to yourself and half to Will.

He’s quiet a moment. “I never thought…I didn’t know she was still in town.”

“Well fuck her. She is so rude. I wanted to fight her but I didn’t want to ruin date night.”

Will chuckles lightly. “Now that I would’ve loved to have seen.”

“Oh? I can go in there and drag her ass out here,” You point over your shoulder with your thumb, pretending to go for the doorhandle. Will smiles, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes as he shakes his head. 

“Hey…where are you?” You reach out and cup his cheek. Will leans into it for a moment, sighing deeply.

“She just…brought up a lot of memories. Ones that I didn’t want to think about again.”

“You’re a good man, Will. I know I say it all the time. I’m hoping it’ll sink in that Ironhead of yours one day.”

He smiles a little brighter this time, still not reaching his eyes. “I know.”

You watch him for a few moments before scooting close to him, pressing your lips to his and letting him lead. He responds after a second or two, kissing you back and pushing his tongue into your mouth. Moaning into him, you toss your leg over his lap, your hands sliding around the back of his neck, gripping and tugging on his hair. You tug a little harder, his head moving back and he smirks at you, that glint in his eye when he knows you’re about to sparkling in the dim light. Sucking at a spot on his neck, Will whimpers, fingers digging into your hips as you let go, a hickey quickly rising in palace of your lips. Will fumbles with his belt and you slap his hands away, quickly undoing his belt and jeans, pulling him out as he gasps at your touch, kissing him once more as you take him in hand and pump him a few times. Moving your panties aside you sit up and slide yourself down onto him slowly, which apparently doesn’t work for Will as he grips your hips and pulls you down quickly while thrusting up into you, chuckling darkly at your cry. 

“Fuck, Will! You feel so good!”

He guides you as you fuck him, pulling you down harder as you chant his name, random words and sounds tumbling from your lips as he fucks you. One hand is gripping his arm and the other slaps against the window and it’s then you see her. Ashley, standing a car length or two away, staring directly at you and Will having sex. As Will leans forward to suck hard on your neck, you smirk at Ashley, giving her a small wave and flipping her off as Will hits that spot inside of you and you cum, screaming his name a little louder than you probably needed to. Will comes a moment later, grunting and panting your name as he spurts inside of you, biting you hard on the shoulder. Chests heaving, Will looks up at you, eyes still dark as he takes in your face, hair all askew and sweaty. 

“I fucking love you, Robin.”

A smile spreads across your face. “I fucking love you, Will Miller.”

“Move in with me?”

“Was the sex that good?”

He chuckles. “It’s always that good with you.”

“Why don’t you ask me that when you’re not balls deep inside of me.”

He grips your chin lightly with his thumb and pointer finger and you meet his gaze. 

“I mean it, Robin. I’ve been dying to ask you for a few months. I just…”

“You never have to be afraid to ask me anything, Will.”

He nods. “I know. So…will you?”

“Yes. But if you feel different in the morning, it’s ok. Just tell me.”

“Deal.”

—----

He does not feel different in the morning, and he proves this to you by burying his face between your legs until you beg him to stop, overstimulated and nearly crying from so much bliss. 

“742,” Will says matter of factly.

“742? Really?”

He smiles proudly. “I love to make my girl cum.”

“I still can’t believe you track that.”

“Wanna know how many times we’ve had sex?”

You throw a pillow at him and he throws it back, expertly hitting you in the head.

–

Both of you take a couple weeks to pack your things and move them over slowly, since work was still super busy. Once you’re moved in, you settle into a comfortable routine, making Will a quick breakfast and coffee before he heads into work or off to the airport to make another recruitment speech. You can see his job wears on him, but when you ask him about it, he shrugs and says “It’s what I can do.” Once you pressed him more and he said a lot of places don’t want to hire veterans that have seen active combat. They don’t outwardly say it, but he’s been turned down for jobs that he interviewed great at, making it all the way through the process until they saw his forms, suddenly not so interested. He’d once asked a recruiter why and they mumbled something about “not worth the risk”. 

He takes up archery with you as his coach and he takes to it well, which doesn’t surprise you in the slightest, considering his history. Will also pays very close attention to detail, making it easier for him to hone in on the target and how best to get there. He still loves it when you come and stand behind him, fixing an elbow here or a wrist there. You finally got him to snap out of concentration Will when you came up behind him and pretended to adjust something on his posture before he drew and ground your hips into his ass. Will burst out laughing, not used to being the one grinded on and you both laughed about that for a long while. 

You’ve been together a year and a half and finally, Will gets to meet your family. They’re having their annual “2nd of July” celebration, as most of the family will be inside on the fourth, none of the veterans big fans of all the firework noise. They’d had to cancel last year and so were extra excited for this year, especially since you were able to fly in with the now infamous Captain William Miller. 

“Do I look ok?” Will asks, fidgeting with his collar in the hotel mirror. 

“Let me see.”

He turns to face you, arms outstretched to his sides. “Do I need to change?”

“As much as I’d love to take this shirt off of you, you look fine, Will. You don’t need to impress anyone.”

“Easy for you to say. Everyone loves you.”

“They have to. They’re family.”

When you arrive, Will knocks on the door, wiping his palms on his jeans that you’d convinced him to wear over business pants. He’s visibly nervous and you can see him getting in his head. So you lean up to him, speaking quietly by his ear.

“If you relax, we can stop at the store on the way back to get that stuff for that thing you’ve been wanting to try in the bedroom.”

Will’s eyes snap to yours, darkening instantly. His eyebrows raise but before he can say anything, the door opens and your dad is there, hugging you and grasping Will’s outstretched hand, a smile on his face.

“Will! It’s so good to finally meet you! You want a burger or a dog?”

“Whatever you have more of, sir.”

“Sir! You hear him? I like him already.”

“Dad!”

He chuckles. “Alright, alright. No need to call me sir. I’m fairly certain you outrank me.”

Will shakes his head. “Negative. You are the father of the love of my life. You definitely outrank me for bringing her into this world.”

Your dad stops, looking between Will and you and seeing the look of utter devotion on both of your faces. “That’s very kind of you to say, Will. Now come on - let’s get you some food before these heathens eat it all.”

Will’s eyes widen when you step out into the backyard and he sees the amount of people gathered here. Kids running around with sparklers, throwing snaps at each other and laughing, some people swimming in the pool, and others talking, some loudly and some not, red, white, and blue colors everywhere. 

“I thought you said it was quiet?” He doesn’t look at you but the corner of his mouth ticks up.

“It is. We don’t do fireworks so it’s quiet for 2nd of July.”

You make the rounds, introducing Will to everyone, his shoulders relaxing more with every new person that he meets. “You weren’t kidding - almost everyone here has served or is serving.”

“Yup. I told you the truth that day in Publix.”

Everyone loved Will, but no one more than your mom. She fawned over him, squeezing his arm, making sure he had enough to eat and drink, that he knew where all the exits were and that there were no pets, the best places to stand with your back against a wall and clear line of sight to the door. The backyard was set up so you could stand pretty much anywhere and achieve this, but she wanted any excuse to talk to him. When your dad came over and pulled Will towards the grill to “help him”, your mom came up to you and gushed about Will, how he was so respectful and kind and a really nice man. 

True to your word, no fireworks were had that night. Instead, your parents had put up a giant inflatable screen and played a video of fireworks with no sound effects, just classical music over top. Will and you sit on the ground, Will leaning back on his hands and you between his legs as you watch. 

“This is amazing, Robin. I gotta tell the guys about this. We should do something like this back home.”

You lean back into his lap further, turning slightly to the side to look at him. “That’s a great idea! Frankie and Vanessa have plenty of room in their yard for this sort of screen. They aren’t too expensive. And their daughters would love to watch Frozen on this thing.”

The fireworks end and you sigh, stretching slightly as you stand up, finally able to make a full stretch. You turn to Will to offer him your hand, but your voice gets stuck in your throat when you look at him, kneeling on one knee, a ring box sitting in his hand.

“Robin, I know I’m not an easy man. Hell, you met me in the middle of a PTSD episode in the middle of a Publix. But somehow, even though I didn’t know you, you were able to pull me out. You saved me that day, but more than that, you’ve saved me every day since then. I feel…normal around you. Or as normal as I can be. You make me feel safe..safe to be me, all of me. I never thought that was possible. I thought that I would have to live my life half a person. You never judge me for the things I’ve had to do, any of the nightmares or quirks, none of it. Other women would’ve walked away, but you take my hand and guide me through the fog. And I hope I give you even an ounce of the happiness you bring me and I want to spend the rest of my life making sure that you’re happy and feel loved.” Will opens the little black box, exposing a beautifully crafted ring. “Will you marry-”

“YES!” 

You launch yourself at him, cutting off his sentence to laughter and whoops all around, your lips crashing to his as everyone cheers. You take his face in both hands and pull back, tears falling not just from your eyes but his as well. 

“I love you, Captain William Miller.”

“I love you so much, darlin’.”

On your flight home, you covertly join the mile high club, Will grinning from ear to ear watching you exit the bathroom and smoothe down your dress a few minutes after he’d left the same one. 

—----

Everyone flies out to your parent’s house for the wedding, as they had practically begged you to have the wedding there. And Will enthusiastically agreed, as the yard was literally set up for veterans. Everyone was there, even Santi flew up from his job in Colombia and asked you to tell him who your single family members were with a wink. 

The wedding was small but grand, flowers picked from your mom’s garden were woven into your braided updo, mathing the ones your mom had hand embroidered onto the outer layer of your dress, a matching embroidered handkerchief in Will’s coat pocket.

The reception went on long into the night, the kids all passed out on sleeping bags in the living room as they watched a movie. Will always had a hand on you at all times since you said “I do”, pressed to your lower back, lightly gripping your arm, or linking fingers with you and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. 

You’d both decided to skip the honeymoon and save that money towards a downpayment on a house of your own, a discussion of kids sometime in the next couple of years or so. “We can always go on some fancy trip later,” you say as you take another sip of the beer Will had brought you. 

You did, however, take the week off anyway and spend it in bed, only leaving it to make food and use the bathroom, Will demanding that the only clothing you were allowed to wear was one of his shirts and nothing else. When you said “Yes, sir” he growled and chased you until he pushed you into the bed, both of you living out your now shared dark desires. 

And in the morning, you woke before him, watching his sleeping face as the light hits it just right and you think about how lucky you were to have been in Publix that day and how much you love the man in front of you, even if he was snoring loudly.

—----

About a year or so later, Will and you are sitting on the couch cuddling, yelling out wrong answers to Wheel of Fortune, when his phone lights up. He leans forward and grabs it off the coffee table, letting you settle back into his side while he looks at the screen.

“Everything ok?”

“Yeah. I just got a text from Santi.”

“If it’s about some girl, I don’t need to know.”

“No. He says he has a job for us.”

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby-blog @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers-blog @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena-library  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol  @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully

[bitchofdarkness]

Charlie Hunnam as Raymond Smith in The Gentlemen

[miagomez-1509]

[angelickks]

ex-wife - francisco ʻcatfishʻ morales

drabble - ex-husband! francisco ʻcatfishʻ morales x ex-wife! reader warning(s): divorce (obvi), longing, insinuation to drug use, like one swear word, nickname "mama", a very sad and lovesick frankie this was definitely just something i was playing around with, just a short little drabble. i havenʻt been as active much BUT I have been working on some things. feedback is always appreciated loves,my inbox is always open! it could be a potential series?? who knows. slightly proofread, muah!

“francisco?”

 he hadn’t heard that voice in almost two years, that soft angelic voice he had missed since the ink on his divorce papers dried. 

he betrays his mind when his heart tells him to face you. he can’t help the way his lips part in surprise, his ex-wife as he lives and breathes, just beautiful as the day she left him. he can’t help but crack a sad smile at the beautiful woman that still takes up every inch of his heart. 

“hi mama” he utters softly, unsure if he’s even allowed the pleasure to call you that anymore, he simply can’t help it. you purse your lips together at the endearing nickname from your ex-husband, still, you give him a smile as you’re genuinely happy to see him. 

frankie doesn’t fully register that you’re moving towards him, wrapping your arms around his waist and planting a greeting kiss on his cheek. he blinks a few times before wrapping his arms around you, he’d dreamt of the day he’d feel your arms again and here he is not fully registering it. 

“how are you francisco? what brings you here?” 

you ask kindly, genuine concern and curiosity laced in a voice he’s yearned for. he rubs the back of his neck nervously, still not believing that you’re here and looking absolutely radiant, you pick up on his nervous tell like it’s second nature. 

“oh…meeting the guys in a bit actually, pope brought us out. you know this isn’t usually my scene, mama.”

he can’t help your infamous nickname from slipping out, he’s called you it long before your marriage and seeing you again is bringing back memories of it. 

you nod knowingly, chuckling slightly at the mention of santiago and his endeavors. 

“i know that. i’m sure this is certainly awkward for you frankie, i just hadn’t seen you in a while and it would’ve been rude of me not to say hello.” 

always so kind and considerate his girl, he guesses that even after the two years of being separated that never changed, just the fact that you weren’t his anymore. 

while yes, you certainly wanted to talk to frankie, it brought back memories. not to mention, his nickname for you made your heart flutter for your ex-husband but that certain fondness and memories were just that, an old flame and memories. at least you tell yourself that, one of the many things you and frankie have in common. 

“speaking of which uh…what brings you here? business calling, i assume?” 

you look down as you smile, frankie’s memory impeccable as always. when you two were together he remembers the dreadful business meetings held at more prestigious bars such as this one. they were never your thing, usually feeling like it was a waste of both time and resources. 

no ethical amount of business is done over expensive seafood and booze. 

“thank god, no. in fact i quit working for that company, i’m currently the project manager for their competitors. no more cocktail business meetings for me. i’m just out with some friends, i secured a partnership so i’m celebrating.”

he nods understandingly, admiring the way your face lights up at the mention of your new job. he loves how happy you look, picking up on how well-rested you look and how healthy you’ve been as you practically glow. it’s downright criminal how breathtaking you look right now, and while he will take any chance to admire his ex-wife’s beauty, he can’t help but feel guilty. 

“well i’m happy for you mama, you deserve it all. you always did.” 

his voice is low and endearing, there’s a tinge of sadness laced behind it and he prays you don’t pick up on it. you open your mouth to respond, but are quickly cut off by a ruckus only identifiable as the only men frankie trusts with his life. 

“catfish, you sorry fuck! where the hell have you been?” 

it’s almost ironic how hothead benny miller steals the show. you giggle at the stares and the frustrated frown frankie adorns, squeezing the bridge of his nose. it’s comical how ben’s brows quirk up, head whipping around as he hears a laugh he hasn’t heard in a long time. in a flash of blonde hair and pure muscle, you’re engulfed in a hug by none other than the younger miller. 

“look at you mama! gorgeous, as i live and breathe, where have you been all my life?” 

for a brief moment your heart soars, and if seeing your ex-husband didn’t help, this brings back memories of all the times spent in your old home. 

“oh benny, look at you!” 

you both pull away but your hands remain on his broad shoulders as you take him in, that infamous cocky smirk ever present on his lips. 

“do a spin for me will you handsome? lemme look at you” 

he gives you a flirtatious “yes ma’am” before doing a slow spin, blabbering on about taking it all in. as if you needed more reminders from your past, you see a group starting to form around you. 

your eyes land on will first and you swear you could cry at the sight. he pulls you into a reassuring hug, sensing your nerves, mumbling a greeting into your shoulder. while benny was well loved by you, will always was your favorite miller. at one point in your life, he was your rock when frankie fell back into using. so far you’ve had nothing but pleasant memories but with one look it had turned bittersweet, reminding you of the weight of your divorce. 

“alright we get it, there’s enough of her to go around. c’mere woman, i missed you” 

you pull from will, rolling your eyes as they land on santiago. you shove him back playfully before pulling him into a tight hug. 

“hey mama” he chuckled out, pulling back for a second to plant a kiss on your forehead. 

you were over the moon to see the boys again, the divorce in itself was painful, but having them go away for the time being only added salt to the wound. meanwhile frankie did what he always does, fall back and observe quietly. 

he sighs quietly, his mind still in shock at seeing you again, but god did it make his heart wrench seeing you with his friends. it was eerie how natural you fell back into their dynamic, not because it irked frankie, but because of how much it reminded him of you both. 

of how much time was spent with the very people surrounding him, how many beautiful memories were shared, how beautiful the memory of his marriage was. 

this entire ordeal opened the floodgates to the months spent longing, drowning out what was left of you, and having to live with his mistakes. 

if he didn’t have as much willpower, he’d find the nearest exit and simply breakdown. he lingers on the thought until broken out of his trance by the woman that still plagues the very idea. 

“it’s lovely to see you francisco, you look handsome as ever. i’d love to take you all in but it would be rude to abandon my own entourage..” your voice trails into a teasing tone as you playfully flirt with the guys, all in good fun. 

frankie blushes at the sentiment, silently cursing how warm and red he feels without even touching a drop of alcohol. 

“i mean it when i say you look stunning ma, thank you.” he says lowly, meant for your ears and yours only.  

he doesn’t quite thank her for the compliment, he thanks her for her kindness, her short-lived company, for simply even being in his presence. 

her eyes shine at his response, causing her ex-husband to melt at the sight. 

she knows, she always knows. my smart, beautiful woman. 

while he doesn’t voice his inner thoughts, she reads him like an open book and for a split second looks at him like how she used to. 

she sees the man she fell in love with and has said many times even after their separation, that she will always love him. 

during that split second she sees a husband, a best friend, a partner, and most importantly the source of her love and adoration. 

but as quickly as it comes, it goes. eyes looking away to avoid his lovesick gaze, reminding herself of why she left and why she will stay away. 

with that, she kisses them all on the cheek sweetly, says goodnight and to always be safe. as she approaches frankie she wraps her arms around his neck and pulls him into a tight embrace. 

it stands a reminder, that she’ll always have love in her heart for the man that was hers long before their marriage, that he’ll always love the woman that was his long before his mistakes ate away at him. 

she pulls away, still in his arms and places a soft kiss to his lips. it’s meant to be soft and forgiving, still it wasn’t long enough for either of them. 

as quickly as she came, she was gone. lost to a sea of people that crowd the pretentious place that’s far too nice for his taste. 

his reality comes back and the room isn’t as bright as it was when she walked in, faced with the harshness of his predicament just as it was two years ago. 

santiago claps a hand on his shoulder, sensing his sudden distress. 

“life is unpredictable. maybe another time, in another place” 

[stealfromthedevil]

Team Miller ftw. ♥️

[maplemind]

Whoops I did it Again...

I watched King Arthur Legend of the Sword. I thought "Eh it got dreadful reviews and I'm not a massive fan of Guy Ritchie films (they're usually so full of testosterone I can feel myself growing a beard...), but I love the Arthurian Legends and Charlie Hunnam is a gift..."

I did a Triple Frontier. I watched it, thought "eh was ok I suppose", couldn't stop thinking about it, watched it again a week later... I accidentally fell in love with this film. Largely because of Charlie Hunnam, not gonna lie.

Damn. This is becoming a habit - Triple Frontier, Sons of Anarchy (just finishing season four, no spoilers please!), King Arthur...

[pedroscurls]

chance encounters | pt. 1

character(s): Benny Miller, fem!Reader, (very) brief cameos from the rest of the Triple Frontier boys at the end summary: You've lost your way after losing your best friend in a tragic car accident. So, you go back to the one sport that makes you feel closer to him. word count: 1.9k a/n: This story is very personal to me and pulled from some real-life experiences (maybe not exactly, but still). I know I said I wouldn't write anything within this time period with April being such a very emotional month for me, but I've found that this story is actually helping me through my grief. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading 🫶 warnings: very brief mentions of grief (which will be a reoccurring warning) series masterlist | ultimate masterlist

“Benny Miller. I’m the owner and potentially, your coach,” the man says with a charming smile. He’s tall, broad, built, and you can’t help but notice his deep blue eyes. There’s a sense of comfort that you feel when you look at him. He’s dressed in red shorts and a white t-shirt with a dark cap placed backwards on his head and you can see the dark blonde curls peeking out from underneath it. “Welcome to Miller MMA Gym.” 

“Hi,” you finally respond, saying your name to introduce yourself. Your hand grips the strap of your duffle bag that was placed over your shoulder. You feel slightly out of your element even though this is your comfort zone. Fighting is your comfort zone. 

“Nice to meet you. Let me give you a tour of the gym and then we can sit down and go over your goals and everything else. Sound good?”

“That sounds good,” you repeat. “Thanks.” 

Benny spends the next twenty minutes giving you a tour of his gym and you can tell just from the sound of his voice that he loves this sport and he has put a lot of thought into creating a gym where he can share with other like minded people. There are black mats in the entirety of the building with thick, red outlines at the edges. There are about seven heavy bags lined up along the wall with an octagon cage towards the back of the building. The gym is small, cozy, and it makes you feel like it’s a place where you belong. 

“This is a really nice gym you got, Benny.” 

“I know it’s not as big as other MMA gyms. We don’t have all the fancy equipment, the extra free weights, but I like that it’s small. Plus, I don’t just let anyone train here.”

“Oh?” you ask, brow arching. “So, I’m guessing this is a bit like a consultation?”

Benny nods. “I want to make sure we’re a good fit. This sport…” he sighs. “I want people who are dedicated, who will push themselves to the limit, you know? I don’t want to waste your time and I certainly don’t want you to waste mine.” 

“Makes sense,” you agree.

He removes his sandals and steps onto the mat. You follow him and set your duffle bag down, your feet touching the cushioned mats and your gently bounce on your toes before you sit down in front of him.

“How long have you trained for?” 

“Never actually had a coach or joined a gym like this, if I’m being honest. My best friend,” you sigh shakily. “He used to fight, was an amateur though. He taught me everything I know and always encouraged me to pick up the sport too.”

“So, what changed?”

“He died.” 

Benny offers you a solemn look. He bites the inside of his cheek and nods. He knows grief all too well and he had known the minute you stepped into his gym that there was something lingering within you, something that you wanted to keep hidden. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug. You had grown tired of hearing that. Why would they be sorry? What could they even do about it? It simply frustrated you. “Anyway, fighting’s always been something I felt comfortable doing and I don’t want to join an MMA gym where it’s all ego and trying to one-up one another.”

“I’m glad you said that,” Benny adds. “I’ve been to gyms like that and I fuckin’ hate it. I mean, we’re all there because we love the same sport. It can get competitive and sparring can get really bad… Which is why I like doing these consultations before even making a commitment with someone. I don’t want my gym to be like those.” 

You nod, the corner of your lips lifting only slightly, but as quickly as it rose, it drops. You always had to catch yourself whenever you felt an ounce of happiness or relief. It didn’t feel fair. It didn’t feel right to be happy when your best friend was gone. 

“Well, I want to fight, Benny. Competitively. I don’t know if I can even make it, but I want to try. Fighting is where I feel most at home.” 

Benny smiles. You see his blue eyes light up. Then, he reaches his hand back out to you. “Well then, welcome aboard. I’d love to have you, and I’d love to train you and be your coach.” 

The happiness flutters in your stomach and you force yourself to ignore it. You don’t smile at him, but your eyes - your eyes have always been so expressive. Your eyes soften when you look up at him, tears threatening to spill over, and you reach out to shake his hand. “I’d love that, Coach.” 

“Welcome to the team,” he grins. “Let’s see what you got.”

—

An hour and a half later and you’re dripping with sweat. You’re leaning back against one corner of the octagon, knees close to your chest as you rest your arms over them, trying to catch your breath. Benny didn’t waste any time assessing your abilities, but you welcomed the distraction and for the last hour and a half, you hadn’t thought about your best friend. 

“We got one more round,” Benny calls out. “Get back up, let’s go.” 

You let out a deep breath and nod, standing. You shake your arms to loosen them, feeling the fatigue slowly begin to settle in. You glance at the time and see it begin to count down. Once the round begins, the sound of a buzzer filters the small gym and immediately, you bring your hands to cover your face, standing in an orthodox fighter’s stance. 

Benny holds out the pads and calls out the following combinations:

Left jab, cross, left hook! 

Double jab, cross!

Right front kick, double left round kick!

Throughout the round, you’re moving in the cage, staying light on your feet and never crossing them. You don’t even notice the way Benny’s smiling down at you, so proudly and full of hope. 

“Alright, thirty seconds left!” Benny calls out. He notices how locked in you are, how focused, and he hasn’t seen someone as motivated in a first session as you. It gives him hope that you’re actually serious about competing. 

Left jab, right body kick! 

1-2 punch, left hook, right body kick! 

Again! 

By the time the round ends and the buzzer fills your ears, you’re breathing heavily, sweat dripping down your temples and the sides of your neck. 

“Holy shit,” Benny chuckles. “You’re amazing.”

“My stamina is shit,” you say breathlessly. 

“We’ll work on that,” he smiles. “Great job today.” 

You remove your gloves and sit back down, leaning against the same corner of the octagon as you begin to unwrap your hands. You see the initials on your wraps and you’re brought back to reality. You bring your hands to stroke your dampened hair back and away from your face, redoing the hair tie to pull your hair into a tighter ponytail. 

“That was– It felt like home,” you admit, looking up at him.

Benny chuckles and extends a hand for you. You take it and stand up, following him out of the octagon. “I’m excited about you, about this partnership. I think you’re gonna be great.”

You look at the time and realize that it’s already way past the normal business hours and quickly, you grab your duffle bag. “I didn’t mean to keep you here longer than you needed to be. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Benny says softly then adds, “I just realized we didn’t get to the paperwork side of things.” 

“I can come in tomorrow,” you say, draping the strap of the duffle bag over your shoulder. “And however much it is, I’ll pay it up front.”

Benny’s eyes widen. “Whoa, whoa, wait–”

“I’m serious about this, Benny. There’s nothing I want more than to fight and I’m willing to do whatever it takes to do that.” 

“Okay, tomorrow morning. Ten o’clock sound good?”

“Sounds great.” You shake his hand once more and he leads the both of you out of his gym. You look up at the sound of another man’s voice and see three other men - all of different statures - greet Benny with a smile. You don’t spend another second sparing each of them a glance, just now wanting to get home. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Benny calls out. “And I think I’ve got a great nickname for you.”

You toss your duffle back into the trunk of your car and shut it closed. You look over at Benny and notice all four men staring at you, but Benny’s the only one grinning. The other three, you notice, are staring at you with a look of hesitancy and curiosity. You take note that Benny’s the taller out of the four, but there’s another one that’s only a few inches shorter. He’s just as broad and built, the same blue eyes, but hair much shorter and slightly lighter. Then, your eyes veer off to the other two, your eyes lingering on one man in particular with a Standard Heating Oil cap placed atop of his curls. The other man standing next to him is the shortest, but he has just as big of a presence as Benny. His hair is greyer, but you have to wonder if it’s due to stress or if he’s much older than the rest of the group. 

“A nickname is too soon, don’t you think? You don’t really know me yet, Benny.”

Benny shrugs. “Let’s just call it a gut feeling.”

“Okay, so what’s the nickname?” 

“The Warrior,” he grins. 

You chuckle. You actually let out a laugh and for months, you had almost forgotten what it was like to laugh. It’s ironic really, almost like your best friend was taunting you from even beyond the grave. He had always called you his little warrior after everything you had been through and how you had never given up, always willing to fight your way through difficult hardships. But now… Now you can’t even imagine fighting your way out of this grief that has taken over your life. 

Benny then looks over at his friends, not realizing that he had forgotten to introduce them to you. “We can talk it over. I’m open to other nicknames, but it just seems right for you.” 

“We’ll see, Benny.” 

“By the way, these are my–”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Coach.” You interrupt him, not bothering to spare another glance at the other three men. You climb into your car and start it immediately, pulling out of the parking lot without another look at Benny or his friends. 

Benny turns to his friends and shrugs. “She’s got potential,” he begins. “I think she can make it big.”

“You say that about almost everyone, Ben,” Santiago chuckles. “Is she usually that… standoffish?”

“She just lost her best friend,” Benny sighs. 

“Damn,” Frankie mumbles. 

“And you think that it’s a good idea that she fights?” Will asks. “Emotions and all of that–”

“I think she needs this,” Benny admits. “And we all know how it is to lose someone close to us.”

“Does she–” Frankie sighs. “Does she have anyone else to rely on?” 

Again, Benny shrugs. “I just met her a few hours ago, but something tells me that she might be alone.”

“Fuck,” Santiago adds. “Well, is she any good?”

Benny nods. “Like I said, I think she can make it big.” 

“Well, whatever you need, we’ll be here,” Will says, clasping a hand over his younger brother’s shoulder. “Now, should we all get out of here and go get some drinks?” 

Santiago grins. “Yeah, let’s.” He nods in Frankie’s direction and adds, “Vamanos.”