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calif0rnia-lovers · 1 year

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kiss it better 03.

pairing: jax teller x black!reader | warning: not much in this chapter tbh

sum: you’re back in charming. perfect timing for a storm is brewing. jax teller has an unquenchable thirst for vengeance.

chapter 02.

The moment he comes to Jax knows he has overslept.

The sun was bright, slowly creeping toward the center of the sky. Its rays slipped through the thin curtains casting a glow across the bedroom.

Despite resting for ten hours, Jax’s body remains bogged by exhaustion. Ten hours paled to the amount of sleep needed for his body to replenish the remaining hours of his sleep deficit. His mind attempts to drift to the cellphone across the room. His slumber meant there were unanswered calls and messages waiting for his attention. Jax nuzzles his face back into the inviting warmth of his pillow.

The rise and fall of his pillow come in a steady rhythm, one that could easily lull him back to sleep.

His eyes open to find you asleep. Your bodies had remained close throughout the night. In the center of the bed, you had somehow managed not to be awoken by the sunlight filling the room.

Jax blinks, part of him thinking you would be gone once the action was over. The last few days had passed in an endless blur of moments. He wouldn’t be surprised if the image of you were an evil illusion summoned by his sleep-deprived senses.

Now he is awake, Jax wonders how the news of Opie’s passing reached you. When he was released, his first instinct was to call you. Not Gemma, but you.

He would have, but he knew the number he’d spent years committing to memory was disconnected. The pain he’d felt deep within his chest when he’d first dialed the number to no avail was one he’d never experienced. Its initial impact was sharp, coming as fast as it left. Soon, the sharp pain subsided, melting into an unnatural, soft dull pain that lingered for days. The ache was temporarily forgotten as Jax tackled the fires of his day. It returned to the front of his mind when he had a moment of downtime.

It took him nearly a month after your departure to learn the meaning of the pain resonating in his chest. It was the soft and slow tearing of his heart.

He’d spent months angry at you, the bitter hatred of your decision to sever all ties with him spilling into every aspect of his life. His temper nipped short, leading to Jax butting heads with everyone who stepped foot in his direction. As the exhaustion of being angry wore off, he started the chase of distraction.

Days packed full of tasks for him to complete. The list ran from the rising to the setting of the sun. The moment the list was complete, Jax was rewarded with a night of decadence. A dangerous cocktail of alcohol and heated moments with Lisa.

The vicious cycle was endless, but it kept Jax distracted from the dull pain in his chest.

When his eyes return to your face, Jax finds your gaze focused on him.

“Mornin',” he whispered softly.

“You look like shit,” you manage.

The soft smile your words sparks brings your touch to the warmth of his cheek.

“Trust me, I feel like it.”

You could echo the sentiment, but your voice is trapped in your throat. The soft smile on Jax's lips had faded slowly, his expression inscrutable. His eyes met yours before moving down to your lips.

His gaze pinned you in place, the air leaving your lungs as his touch grazed your cheek. It was a look you had encountered a handful of times in his presence. Each time, Jax had mustered enough willpower to suppress it. As his thumb dragged over your bottom lip, you realized he had no intention of pulling away.

Before he could persuade himself it was a terrible idea, Jax lowered his head and pressed his lips to yours.

They were gone as fast as they had come. The initial action is simple testing of the waters.

When they returned, the kiss was gentle and hard at once. Jax's beard was coarse as it scraped against your skin, his lips soft as they moved against yours.

Jax’s body relaxed, your arms snaking around the back of his neck, his weight shifting to press you into the mattress. Your fingers carded through his soft locks urging his tongue to part your lips. The kiss melted into a slow pace, Jax’s expert exploration of your mouth fogging your mind. You could only think of how to keep his lips on yours.

This was a slippery slope, but neither of you could pull away. Your kisses were different than any he’s previously shared. Jax’s most intimate moments panned out like every moment in his life. Rough, heated, and fast. They satisfied his need for a temporary high yet always left him wanting more.

Your kisses were heartfelt, your touch inviting as it drifted down his spine. The combination mysteriously seized control of his mind. It commanded his body to slow down. It allowed him to savor the softness of your lips, the warmth of your skin under his touch. The way your body responded to his, your hips dangerously arching up to meet his.

The ringing of his phone seemed to break Jax from your spell.

You both paused, panting and breathless, listening to the chime of his phone echo off the walls of the quiet house. Jax’s heart pounded against his ribs, yours beating in tandem.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean…” Jax’s words trail off as his eyes pass over your parted lips.

What was the point of lying?

He had meant to kiss you. Hell he would have done more than that if he hadn’t been interrupted.

“It’s okay.”

You push yourself up, thankful for the distance it forces Jax to put between the two of you.

With fresh air in your lungs, the fog in your mind quickly recedes. An unsettling twinge of guilt tightens your stomach as Jax’s eyes meet yours.

A slippery slope.

A single kiss had tipped the scales. It would take a far more painful act to reset the balance.

You cannot stay here.

The reminder pushes you off the bed.

Thankfully, the ringer doesn’t relent. The moment it dies, the sound returns with a second call. Jax’s eyes track your movements, his silence prompting you to glance in his direction.

“You should get that. I’m going to shower.”

Not tonight.

Your foolish words echo through your mind as you stare down the Reaper grinning at you.

It looks like you’re a bit rusty, sweetheart. You foolishly allowed me to rest.

The slip of your tongue hadn’t registered until nearly an hour after you left Jax alone in his bed.

Not tonight.

The limitation on his retaliation was up. The sun was now high in the sky, blazing down on the crowded parking lot of the Teller-Morrow automotive repair shop.

The patched members of SAMCRO had filed outside with the anticipated arrival of their president. Too intoxicated the night before, Jax had allowed you to drive him home. Which resulted in you having to give him a ride back. Usually, this wouldn’t be a problem. But, today, you wish Jax didn’t require your help.

He was across the parking lot, back to you as he spoke to a man you didn’t recognize. Despite the distance between the two of you, you could still feel the weight of his body against yours. The warmth of his mouth against yours, and how easily it coaxed you to cross a line you’d spent years avoiding.

“What’s troubling your mind, sweetheart?”

You find Bobby’s eyes on you. Rubbing a cloth against his glasses, he awaits your response.

You nod in the direction of Jax, your gaze returning to the man he speaks to. Arms crossed over his chest, he rests against the black SUV behind him.

“Who’s Jax talking to?”

“Nero,” Bobby explains. “He’s helping us out with something.”

“Something?” You echo, your brow arched in amusement as Bobby meets your gaze. The action pulls a chuckle from the older man. “Am I better off not knowing?”

“Depends,” he shrugs, eyes watching as your attention returns to Jax. “On how good you were at comforting Jax last night. Don't want to bring out your jealous side.”

Your eyes roll at the implication.

“I got him to sleep,” you sigh. “Something none of you knuckleheads bothered to do.”

Bobby releases a chuckle, unconvinced. “The kid’s stubborn, same as you.”

“How were things with him before…”

Bobby remains silent as he struggles to find words, to sum up, the events that have occurred in your absence.

“Jax has been preparing for the gavel since he was born,” his eyes take in the crowded lot. “But I don’t you can ever really prepare for it, legacy or not. He’s been trying to steer us in the right direction, but…”

With listening ears nearby, you watch Bobby’s brows rise in suggestion. You don’t need him to complete his statement.

You noticed Clay’s absence the moment you arrived. Although you were glad he wasn’t around to add more to his stepson’s plate, you knew Clay’s absence still weighed heavy on Jax’s mind.

Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.

With Clay out of sight, Jax wasn’t able to see what he was plotting.

As if sensing your thoughts, Clay steps out of the clubhouse.

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”

Your words come out low enough to only be heard by Bobby, but Clay’s gaze scans the crowded lot before settling on you.

He’s visibly aged since your last sighting of the former president. The tubes tucked into his nostrils snaked down his chest to the oxygen tank in his left hand. He looked meek and surely incapable of riding his bike out with the rest of the club. His expression remained unreadable as you lifted your hand offering him a wave.

“I don’t imagine he’s been supporting Jax in his new role?”

With a slight shake of his head, Bobby wraps his arm around your shoulder. Giving you a gentle squeeze, he offers you a warm smile as your head briefly rests against him.

“It’s good to have you back.”

Soon you’re left alone, nervous energy radiating through your body as Jax makes his way toward you.

Despite the feeling, you cannot deny him a smile as Jax comes to a stop before you. The smile on his face is one you’d spent years missing. Paired with the bright blue eyes searching your expression, you almost forget about the circumstances surrounding your arrival the night before.

Not tonight.

You blink, eyes dropping from his to your worn sneakers.

“Thanks for last night,” he says, his fingers finding yours.

Your eyes focus on his split knuckles. Your thumb gingerly passes over the damaged skin.

“And this morning.”

The second half of his statement comes as your eyes meet his.

“I just want you to be okay.”

It’s not a lie. You’ve never meant anything as much as the words you’ve just spoken. The problem is, you know placating Jax’s current state would only lead to a more difficult departure.

“It feels that way when you’re here.” The softly uttered admission is not meant for your ears.

Jax reaches into the chest pocket of his kutte. He retrieves a familiar scratched eight ball. The same keychain you’d passed to him the last time you said goodbye in the same spot years before. The key he’d forged for you still sits on the ring.

His throat clears as your fingers brush his in retrieval of the key. “You can uh–stay with me as long as you’re here.”

You meet his gaze. His eyes are curious. His invitation is a shoddy attempt at asking the question his lips can’t utter.

How long will you stay?

“Thank you.”

You house the keychain in your front pocket, a silence falling over the two of you.

You can feel her gaze before you spot her. It sears into your skin as your fingers remain interlaced with Jax’s.

Jax follows your gaze, a deep breath filling his lungs as he glimpses Gemma's narrowed eyes. The corner of his lips tugs into a smile as he shifts, blocking you from her sight.

“Play nice,” he sighs. The twinkle of amusement in his eyes relaxes your tense grip on his fingers. “The last thing I need is to break up a fight between you two.”

“I’ll play nice if she does.” Your matter-of-a-fact tone morphs his smile into a grin.

He knew your words rang true. He never dreamt he’d witness a woman who could go toe to toe with his mother until he met you.

The warmth of his hands against your cheeks forces your gaze to meet his. You make a point of allowing your eyes to roll as you huff a “fine.”

“I’m only doing it because you asked,” you mumble.

You can feel your body relax as his soft chuckle fills your ears. Your eyes drift shut as his lips press against your forehead. A parting gift he’d given you for as long as you can remember.

“I gotta go,” Jax mumbles. Despite the admission, you both remain where you stand.

Your lips meet his halfway. The featherlight kiss drew his hands down your spine. Pulling you closer, he deepens the kiss as you relax against his chest.

“Be safe, please.”

Jax’s response to your request comes in a gentle squeeze of your waist. He slips his sunglasses over his eyes before starting toward his bike.

Your mind drives away with Jax as he disappears through the parking lot gates. The distraction allows Gemma to settle alongside you, her voice causing you to jump.

“Gotta admit, I’m surprised you lasted the night.” Your eyes remain on the gates, but Gemma can easily read the tightening of your stance. Her shade-covered eyes rake down your entire frame. “Thought you’d vanish before the sunrise. Isn’t that more your style?”

The breath you take comes out softer than you expect. The smile you’ve fixed on your face instantly forces your shoulders to relax.

“Nice to see you haven’t changed, Gem.”

Gemma lets out a dry laugh as you face her. Instead of matching your words with a snide remark, she nods over her shoulder.

“It's too hot to do this out here,” she sighs, her hand raising to fan her face. “Let’s go in.”

You follow Gemma across the lot towards her office.

The cramped room welcomes you with the forgiving breeze of AC. You sink into the seat opposite hers, eyes passing over the familiar walls. Not much has changed. Her desk is still cluttered, stacked high with files and receipts. The only additions you can easily find are the updated photos tacked against the wall.

A soft smile finds your lips as you observe a photo of Jax.

He sits on his Harley, his son seated in front of him wore his helmet. Older than your last encounter, Abel wears a smile that matches his father's.

“You must have really missed it here.”

Your brow arches, gaze leaving the photo to find Gemma relaxed in her chair. She takes a drag of her cigarette before pointing the lit tip toward you.

“You came running back the second you got a chance.”

“I never missed this place. It’s full of leeches that suck you dry.” Gemma scoffs as your eyes linger on her. “I did miss the weather. Winters in New York are too cold for my taste.”

Gemma’s brow lifts at the admission. “Thought you’d be used to it by now.”

“Why?”

“Jax mentioned that’s where you’re from.”

“Not originally. My mom and I moved there when I was four.”

“What about your dad?”

You shrug.

Breaching the topic of family history is never something you enjoy. Let alone with Gemma on the receiving end. Although you had lived in Charming for five years, Gemma can admit she barely knows much about you.

You had never taken a liking to her. Which was fine for her, Gemma never liked you. She watched you arrive, a stranger to the ways of her lifestyle, but you somehow easily fit in. The moment her son laid eyes on you, Jax was incapable of escaping you. The hold you had over her son, Gemma couldn’t comprehend.

Five years, and not once did you allow Jax to cross the line of friendship. That’s why he couldn't get rid of Lisa. As long as the line remained uncrossed, Lisa believed there was hope.

You knew why Gemma didn’t like you. She feared the influence you had over her son, even if you didn’t recognize the full extent of it.

Lisa thought the way to Jax’s heart was sex. She was naive to believe her tactics would work. No matter how powerful, time and time again, men have fallen victim to the lure of a woman’s touch. Men, much more powerful than Jax Teller, had lost their families and fortunes to a woman able to get them in bed. That’s why Gemma permitted Lisa to stay around. Lisa was incapable of seeing the bigger picture, and that’s how Gemma wanted things to stay.

A woman blinded by the power and money she believed Jax possessed would never think to persuade him to desert it.

A woman who could see through the allure and convince Jax to do the same, was dangerous. That is why her comment comes out with a laugh.

“Lemme guess, your daddy’s locked up somewhere. Serving life for some crime he didn’t commit?”

“Might as well be,” you watch her smile dim as you ignore the bait. “He hasn’t laid eyes on me since I was born.”

A silence falls over the office as Gemma’s eyes study you. If you’re irritated by her previous statement, you show no sign.

“Well, you’re doing pretty good without him from what I hear.”

“And what have you heard?”

“You got a good-paying job waiting for you back in New York.” Tapping her cigarette against the rim of the ashtray, she meets your gaze. “How much time they give you to come here?”

You smile at her question.

Classic Gemma.

Skillfully distracting her prey before hooking them with unsuspecting bait. Only, you’ve been in the ring with her before.

“I took a week off.”

Leaning forward, she crushes her cigarette against the bottom of the ashtray.

“Well, since you’re gonna be here a while I got something for you–”

“I don’t need any favors, Gemma.”

Like many things in Charming, favors from Gemma Teller-Morrow came with strings attached.

“It’s not a favor, sweetheart.” Gemma’s eyes roll. “And it’s not from me.”

You watch her stand. She picks a key up from the board hanging behind her desk. Turning to face you she weighs it in her palm, her eyes taking in your current state of confusion.

“I’m glad you’re back,” she steps around the desk walking to the door. “We can finally get this hunk of trash out of the garage. It’s taking up space for potential customers.”

The “hunk of trash” Gemma referred to sits at the center of the garage. The red 1965 Ford Mustang is a sight for sore eyes. It was the last thing tying you to the father you couldn’t remember. Left with your mother, the car was the only thing she had bothered to keep that came from the man who disappeared faster than the ink could dry on your birth certificate.

“If it were up to me, I would have had it crushed at the junkyard when you left,” Gemma says, eyes tracking your movements as you step into the garage for a closer look. “But ya know Jax. He made sure the prospect kept it in pristine condition in case you ever came back.”

“It’s a good thing he doesn’t take after you.”

“You’re right,” Gemma’s nose scrunches at the comment. “Jackson has always taken after his father. Right down to the bleeding heart. That’s what got him killed.”

You jump, managing to catch the keys poorly cast in your direction.

“Phil.” Gemma waves the prospect over. “Follow her, so she can return her rental. Finally, give us a reason to get her car outta here.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

"For someone who called me here, you sure delivered an icy welcome." Your comment stops Gemma in her tracks.

Her dark eyes narrow as she takes in your expectant expression. Your words may have stopped short, but the unspoken question is loud and clear.

Why the hell did you call me here?

"See you when you get back."

The prospect watches your eyes follow Gemma out of the garage. He offers you a warm smile as your eyes drift to him.

“So you’re the mystery owner,” he says, hand running over the hood. “Jax’s been gatekeeping this one.”

Your brow arches prompting him to elaborate.

“Everyone who sees this car asks to buy it,” he chuckles. “Just last week, some suit came through and offered Jax 60k, cash if he was willing to part ways with it. Gem was pissed when he said no.”

A smile spread across your lips at the thought of Jax resisting Gemma throwing a fit.

“I’m Phil.” He offers you his hand.

You drop the key in Phil’s hand before starting toward the garage’s entrance.

“Y/N. You can follow me.”

It's not up for discussion, Jackson.

150 kilos. Three weeks.

Damon Pope's voices echoes through his mind as Jax parks before the clubhouse.

His latest meeting with the kingpin was proving to be problematic.

150 kilos. Three weeks.

Jax had difficulty moving fifty kilos to meet Pope's last deadline. He cannot fathom how the kingpin expected him to move more than double that in the same length of time. Let alone convince the club to assist in the matter.

Jax wasn't naive--his table was divided. A divided table can lead to a king's downfall. Clay was a living testament.

Since the meeting, Jax had connected with the Mayan president. Alvarez hadn't bothered to ask if Jax was okay.

"Sorry about your friend, hermano," he'd sighed as he'd answered Jax's call.

The conversation delegated a meet-up for the two MCs. Alvarez knew better than most that the responsibilities of a king did not stop for a loss.

Even if Jax could secure help from the Mayans, it was still too much product.

Fuck.

"So, the rumors are true." The smile on Eli's face stretched into a grin as he watched Jax's pace stall. Damn. He loved catching the SAMCRO leader off guard. "Your girlfriend's back in town."

Jax lifts an unlit cigarette to his lips, eyes taking in the Lieutenant casually resting against the hood of your Mustang. He pauses to light it.

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Right." Eli slowly drug out the word, his eyes taking in Jax's current state.

Since their last meeting, Jax had earned himself new bruises.

Jax allows the smoke to leave his lungs before raising his question.

"Is there a reason you're here?" It's a genuine question. What little patience Jax had was threatening to run thin as he took in Eli's smile.

A dry laugh escapes Eli's mouth, the sound tightening Jax's jaw.

Shrugging off the car, he invades the President's space, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"I keep trying to figure out how the fuck you manage to squirm outta every cage I manage to put you in," Eli's growled. "That murder charge was airtight."

"Clearly," Jax huffs. "It wasn't."

Dropping it to the ground, Jax ground the cigarette with his shoe.

"Look, man. If you came to ask how I got out, I can cut this enlightening conversation short. I don't know any more than you do." Jax allowed Eli's fiery eyes to search his.

All the Lieutenant found was two pools of cool blue. The tone of Jax's voice would have convinced most. Eli, however, knew Jax was a master of gatekeeping secrets.

"Now, I gotta go," lighting patting the man's chest, Jax ignored the gritting of Eli's teeth. "I'm sure you're aware, we both have jobs to do. Last time I checked, my taxes aren't paying for you to sit on your ass in my shop's lot."

Eli reacts quicker than Jax. His grip caught Jax's arm, bruisingly pressing into his skin, keeping him in place.

He felt Jax's body change in a matter of half a second. The calm, relaxed posture tensed as Eli's grip tightened. Jax's rigid stance paled in comparison to the frigid icy blue gaze that passed over Eli's face before lowering to his grip.

"There's the man I've been hearing about," Eli chuckled, his smile stretching as Jax's jaw locked into place. He tightened his grip, the slight flinch of Jax's left eye the only sign the pain had registered. "Thought you'd let Pope scare it outta ya."

"I suggest you move your hand," Jax's voice came out low and level, the threat pooling in his eyes loosening Eli's grip.

Eli's touch falls away, the pounding of the blood rushing in Jax's ears prompting Jax to take a step forward. His fight instinct had flipped on as quick as a switch. Jax catches sight of the panic that briefly flashes in the Lieutenant's eyes, Eli's right hand instinctively moving to the holster on his hip.

The pain registering against his right palm pulls Jax's gaze from Eli's holster. Relaxing his clenched fist, Jax forces a harsh breath from his lungs.

"Unless you plan on leaving your condolences, I suggest you get the fuck out of here, Eli," Jax growled.

He didn't wait for a response. Neither man can comprehend what force pulled Jax back. It guided him across the lot towards the clubhouse, prompting Jax to back down from a fight they both knew his rage would easily allow him to win.

"I'll admit I took you for a lot of things, Teller, but not the type of man that would blatantly disrespect Opie by playing nice with the man responsible for his death?"

Eli's words echoed across the empty lot.

They halt Jax's movements, forcing him to stop just shy of the door. A long second passes, Jax's fists clenching.

Eli waits, ready to receive Jax's backlash. He just needed verbal confirmation. A verbal confirmation of the relationship between the Oakland kingpin and SAMCRO.

But Eli's request was denied as Jax yanked the door open before disappearing inside.

You pass Phil another beer, watching as he slides it into the fridge. Phil is behind the bar restocking it in preparation for the meeting Jax had called.

Although most members of SAMCRO had filed through the door an hour ago, you had yet to see Jax. To pass the time, you had busied yourself with helping Phil complete small tasks around the clubhouse.

The prospect seemed to be thankful for your company. He quickly found what Jax liked about you. You were easy to talk to.

Your eyes pass over the crowded room. "So…any idea what this meeting is about?"

Phil's eyes briefly meet yours before returning to the beer you offer him. His voice lowers, prompting you to lean across the bar to hear.

"All I know is…there’s a big shipment the guys gotta vote on today."

"That explains why Jax is tense."

"Everyone is," Phil admits. "Pope is offering the club a lot of money if Jax can pull it off."

Your muscles tense. A cold shiver runs down your spine.

"Pope?"

"Damon Pope, some big hitter from Oakland—"

Phil tenses. You glance over your shoulder just in time to see Jax stalking through the door.

The laughter and conversations quickly die down as the President's return registers.

You watch as Lisa instantly perks up, her posture straightening as Jax's eyes drift to her. Seated at the opposite end of the bar, she has spent the last hour shooting daggers at you. The beer in her hand was nearly empty. She had tried to pass the time by flirting with Frankie Diamonds.

It didn't take more than a single look over for you to register how tight Jax was wound.

His eyes follow Lisa's gaze to you. His brow arches as his eyes meet yours.

“Your guard dogs are extra feisty today,” you note as he stops beside you.

"Can’t do much about that, darling," he sighs, reaching over the bar for a beer. “Not trying to get bit today.”

He glances over at you, surprised by your lack of comment. He takes a sip of his beer before settling on the stool next to yours. He doesn’t object as you take the bottle to do the same.

“Jax–”

“I’m good.” His response is automatic. He’s repeated it a handful of times today. Each time he said it, he believed it would move him one step closer to it becoming true.

“That’s…good,” your brow furrows, eyes watching as he slowly turns the ring on his left hand. “But that’s not what I was going to ask.”

Jax’s eyes lift to find yours focused on the bottle in your hand.

“Since when are you working with Damon Pope?”

To no surprise, your question is met with silence.

In all your years as friends, you had never desired to learn the details of the club’s business. Jax was thankful for your desire. It made it easier for him to filter out the bullshit in your presence.

Jax's brow raises as he accepts the bottle from you. “How’d you hear about that?”

It is your turn to be shocked by the presented question.

You hadn’t expected him to respond, let alone not attempt to deny your words. Instead, of deflecting the question, Jax had taken it head on. The look of confusion on his face causes you to swallow.

“Does it really matter?” You ask, suddenly wary his question may be an act of avoidance.

Jax’s jaw tightens his eyes slowly passing over the room. He releases his breath as his gaze lands on Phil. The prospect trying his best to avoid Jax’s gaze as he ferociously scrubbed a clean table with a rag.

“It does matter,” Jax’s gaze remains on Phil. “The club’s not advertising that information yet. We still got shit to work out—“

His eyes glance in your direction, his words stopping short. He knows he’s already said enough by confirming your suspicion.

“I know it’s not—“

“Your place to speak on?”

Jax watches you recoil at his harshly spoken words. The sight was one he’d hoped to never see from you again.

"Shit. I didn’t mean that.”

He sighs, hand running down his face. His eyes gripped shut. He tried his best to force down the anger still bubbling from his encounter with Eli. Lifting the bottle to his lips, how downed the chilled liquid to the last drop.

His tired eyes lifts to meet your gaze. When he speaks this time, his voice is softer.

“It’s just…I’ve been hearing everyone’s opinion on this all morning.”

“It’s a bad idea to work with him, Jackson.”

The conviction in your voice gives Jax pause. His brow furrows.

“What do you know about him?”

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miagomez-1509 · 2 years

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ladyxskywalker · 2 years

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July 2022 (part two)

fandoms featured on this list; moon knight, pedro pascal characters, the batman, the amazing spider man, bridgerton, oscar isaac, charlie hunnam, the originals / tvd, & misc./multi fandom 💫

thank you to the amazing fic writers for sharing some wonderful stories with all of us ! & to the kind readers for their support. 💙

please assume that all works & the blogs they belong to are 18+ only

mature adult content will be marked with a double asterisk **

be sure to check all warnings & tags before reading, feel free to skip if something isn't for you

& of course, enjoy responsibly

all the love xo A ☕

✨️ apologies for this month’s list being a little shorter than usual ! I had some things going on, so some of these are comfort reads, & repeats that I’ve read again, new things I’ve read, or various series that I’ve started. hope you enjoy ! & happy reading ! 🤗

please send me things to read ! favorite fics or something you've written that you're proud of ! 💌

find more monthly fic recs over on my masterlist, Aug 2022 coming soon ! ✨

please let me know if you would like to be removed

✨ new authors & characters added for the first time !

✨ some authors are mentioned more than once throughout the list, check to see if your works are there !

MOON KNIGHT

✨ Jake Lockley

Six Stops by @lcvenderblues (gn!reader)

Love in Bloom, & Sunday Kind of Love by @egcdeath

✨ Marc Spector

Happy Birthday by @writingforcurrentobsessions

✨ Steven Grant

Spirals And Skin by @clints-lucky-arrow (artist!steven) (tattooed!f!reader) **

Tilt, Shift, & Balance by @the-little-ewok (steven x f!reader, marc x f!reader) **

Who Wouldn’t Want That? & Darling, I Fancy You by @yespolkadotkitty (f!reader)

PEDRO PASCAL

✨ Ezra (Prospect)

Clarity by @ezrasbirdie (dentist!ezra universe) (f!reader) **

Daze by @iamskyereads (slice of life) (domestic ezra universe) (prof!f!reader) (cw: children) **

In the Dark (series) by @frannyzooey (cw: age gap) (f!reader) **

Where the Foxglove Grows by @mandoblowmybackout (plus size, neurodivergent, f!reader)

✨ Jack (Agent Whiskey) Daniels

Tangled Up (series) by @writeforfandoms (dragon rancher au) (f!reader)

✨ Marcus Pike

Desperado by @writeforfandoms (f!reader)

Starting Over (series) by @wardenparker , & @absurdthirst (f!reader) (cw: pregnancy, divorce)

✨ Oberyn Martell

Yes, I do? by @toomanystoriessolittletime (modern au) (escort!oberyn) (f!reader)

✨ Pero Tovar

Full Moon Confessions by @artemiseamoon (f!reader)

Risk by @forever-rogue (f!reader) (cw: pregnancy mention) **

✨ The Thief (Casillero del Diablo)

The Painting by @forever-rogue (f!reader)

✨ Misc. Pedro Pascal Characters

Euclidean Geometry by @leslie-lyman (modern au) (poly!relationship) (f!reader) **

How Did You Love (series) by @writeforfandoms (f!reader)

MISC./MULTI FANDOM

✨ Alfred Pennyworth (The Batman)

Penny For Your Thoughts (series) by @eupheme (cw: age gap, daddy kink) (f!reader) **

✨ The Amazing Spider Man (Andrew Garfield)

Approach Shift (series) by @psithurista (f!reader) **

Beautiful Distraction by @flightlessangelwings (gn!reader) **

✨ Bridgerton (Benedict Bridgerton)

Truth Unseen by @make-me-imagine (gn!reader)

✨ Bud Cooper (Oscar Isaac, Suburbicon 2017)

A Softer Side by @leiakenobi (f!reader) **

✨ Clash of the Titans (Draco, Mads Mikkelsen)

Of Gods and Men (series) by @KrystalFlare on fanfiction.net (draco x goddess oc) **

✨ Cobra Kai (Johnny Lawrence)

Challenger by @SecretSecret on ao3 (f!reader) **

✨ Duke Leto Atreides (Oscar Isaac, Dune)

The Sun on Your Skin by @writefightandflightclub (gn!reader) (touch starved reader)

✨ Joel Miller (The Last of Us)

Safe With You by @flightlessangelwings (f!reader)

Under the Cherry Blossom Trees by @flightlessangelwings (fluff, angst) (gn!reader)

✨ John Watson (Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows)

The Doctor Is In by @cinewhore (black!f!reader) **

✨ The Originals / The Vampire Diaries

An Act That Brought You Joy (series) by @Merontheshore on ao3 (elena gilbert x klaus mikaelson, elena x elijah mikaelson, elena x kol mikaelson) **

The Artist (series) (a choose your own outcome story) by @brittishmenorbust on ao3 (f!reader)

Bienvenue (series) by @Merontheshore on ao3 (klaus mikaelson x ofc) (kol mikaelson x ofc) (elijah mikaelson & ofc) **

Endlessly Enough (series) by @brittishmenorbust on ao3 (damon salvatore x f!reader)

Labyrinth: A Bonnie Bennett x Klaus centric universe (series) by @artemiseamoon (bonnie bennett x klaus mikaleson) **

✨ Raymond Smith (Charlie Hunnam, The Gentlemen)

Right Hand Woman by @autumnleaves1991-blog (f!reader) **

✨ Rick Flag (DC, Joel Kinnaman)

Motivation by @loverhymeswith (f!reader)

✨ Roswell New Mexico (2019) (Alex Manes x Micheal Guerin)

here everyone knows (you’re the way to my heart) by @catchingpapermoons on ao3 (malex) **

** be sure to check out part one for star wars, the mandalorian, kenobi, rogue one, & triple frontier fic recs 📖

#moon knight fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #tasm fanfiction #dune fanfiction #the originals fanfiction #oscar isaac character fanfiction #charlie hunnam character fanfiction #misc. multi fandom #pxk monthly fic recs 💫#pxk monthly reading list 💌

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sparklemichele · 4 years

Text

Bet

Charlie Hunnam X Black Reader

The smell of weed hit your nose hard. You frown as the smell engulfed your senses.

“Jesus, what the fuck Candace! I’m going to get high just from walking in here.” You wanted to cover your nose but that would be rude as you were an invited guest to this party your best friend dragged you to.

“Girl chill. You act like you never smoked weed before.” Candace laughed at you suddenly acting bougie. “You need a drink asap!” You and Candace made your way to the makeshift bar in the kitchen.

“Where do you find these get togethers?” You asked as she handed you a dirty martini.

“Friends.” Candace smiled at you just before taking a tequila shot. You were three drinks in having a good time when the hairs on the back of your neck stood up. You looked down at your arm and notice goosebumps rising. What in the hell? You looked around and saw him staring at you from across the room. It caught you off guard how blunt and unapologetic his gaze was toward you.

“Candace, is that Charlie Hunnam?” You asked her taking a sip of your martini. Candace looked in the direction you were looking at.

“Fuck yeah it is. Holy shit! He is fuckin staring you down.”

“I know…what is up with that?”

“Bitch you better find out.”

“Wait…isn’t he with someone?”

“Well the way he is looking at you it seems not.” Candace chuckled. “Go over there.”

“No! Are you crazy?”

“Why not?”

“Because…” You had no excuse.

“You are actually standing here being a scared little cat when fine ass Charlie Hunnam is a few feet away undressing you with his eyes?” Candace was dumbfounded.

You were usually bolder than this but for some reason your legs would not move. You watched as Charlie took a long drag of his blunt not losing eye contact with you.

“Girl!” Candace started to head in his direction. You could not stop her without making a scene. You tried to look busy as you watched out the corner of your eye Candace say something to Charlie. Within seconds they were heading in your direction.

“Fuck!”

You smiled your winning smile when they stepped in front of you.

“Y/N, this is Charlie. Charlie, this is Y/N.” Candace disappeared after introductions. Charlie leaned over and sat his blunt on the edge of the counter you were by. You held your breath at how close he was to you.

“Nice to meet you.” He extended his hand and you shook it. He was more breathtaking in person and his accent had you weak in the knees.

“I was on my way over here just before your friend came over.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?” You took a long sip of your drink.

“Yeah, I could not help but notice you as soon as you walked in.” He smiled a sexy smile at you, and you knew instantly you would be fucking this man by the end of the night. He oozed sex appeal and confidence.

“What did you notice?” You eyed him while biting your bottom lip. You just knew he could lay it down.

Charlie slowly looked you up and down as he contemplated what caught his attention first. That ass for sure but he could not tell you that.

“Your beautiful eyes.” He decided to tell you. You started laughing. Your laugh was infectious, and he found himself laughing with you.

“I call bullshit.”

“Honestly?”

“Always.”

“Your beautiful face and then your ass.”

“Nothing like an honest man to turn a girl on.” You teased. Charlie winked at you as he took a hit of his blunt.

“Would you like a hit?” Charlie asked as he offered his blunt to you.

“Oh no….I’m good thanks. I got my drink.” You lifted your half empty cocktail glass.

“Looks like you need a refill.”

“I’m good. I already had three and they are pretty strong.” Charlie leaned over and stubbed out his blunt in the ashtray that was beside you on the counter. He did not move after he was done. Despite the strong smell of his blunt you caught the smell of his cologne. He was so close you just needed to lift up on your toes and you could kiss his beautiful lips. You unconsciously backed up to only hit the counter. Charlie pulled on one of your kinky twist. He wrapped the twist around his finger and caressed your cheek.

“I wonder what you taste like.” He whispered in your ear. Your knees buckled embarrassing you as Charlie quickly wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Are you ok?”

You looked at Charlie like he was crazy. “Am I ok? You can’t say that to a woman an expect her to be ok?”

Charlie laughed again. “I’m sorry.” Charlie took your hand and placed it on his chest. “Scouts honor.”

“No, you’re not. You are enjoying this.” It was Charlie’s turn to bite his bottom lip as his eyes wandered down to your cleavage.

“Maybe a little.” He pushed up against you and you officially lost your breath as his hands cupped your face. You closed your eyes as his lips softly landed on yours. As your tongues met you tasted weed and whiskey on his. You felt his hand glide along your back as he pressed deeper in your kiss. You forgot you were surrounded by other party goers as you wrapped your arms around his neck. Charlie moaned as his tongue explored your mouth and pulled you closer against him. You gasped as you felt his erection against you. Charlie smiled against your lips, pulling your bottom lip with his teeth before mummering in your ear.

“Damn you taste good. Do you taste this good all over?” his teeth tugged at your earlobe. You pulled away from his grasp and looked at him seductively.

“I do actually. Are you planning to find out?”

Without answering you Charlie grabbed your hand and pulled you out the kitchen.

“Where are we going?” You asked as he maneuvered through the crowd. You grabbed his hand tighter as you followed him upstairs. You were about to ask again where you both were going when you received your answer when he led you to a huge bedroom.

“Is this your house?”

“Yes.” Charlie answered as he shut and locked the door behind you. You marveled at his room for a few moments while he stood behind you.

“This is beautiful Charlie.”

Charlie did not verbally answer you but wrapped both arms around you. You leaned against him as his fingers undid the button of your jeans. You let out a soft moan as his fingers brushed your clit.

“Open wider.” You felt his hot breath against your ear as you did as you were told. Charlie leaned his body against the door as your full body weight pressed against him. You found one of your hands grabbing Charlie’s wrist begging him to push deeper in you.

“You like this?” You nodded unable to form words as his fingers worked you. “I want you to cum for me. You think you can do that, Y/N?” You moaned in response. His fingers moved to your clit again and in seconds you came all over his hand. Charlie held you tight you as your body trembled against him. It seemed as if you laid against him for a long while as you gathered yourself. When Charlie pulled his fingers from you, you heard him licking his fingers. You turned around to watch him as his eyes penetrated yours as he sucked your essence off his fingers. He took his time licking all his fingers and you found your juices flowing again just from looking at him. His gaze was becoming too much. You had to look away as you felt heat take over your body. He was going to make you cum again just by looking at you. You shuddered at the very thought. Charlie finally finished licking you off his fingers. He pulled you back against him.

“I’m going to be honest with you.” Charlie lifted your chin to have you look into his blue eyes. “I’m not looking for anything serious. I just got out of a relationship and I am not looking to settle down again right now.”

You smiled softly at him. “There is that honesty again. A man after my heart.” What he just confessed did not faze you one bit.

“I’m not looking to settle down either Charlie.” You found your fingers playing in his beard.

“So, where does that leave us?” Charlie held his breath waiting for you to answer.

“I mean Charlie if you want to fuck, we can with no strings attach. We are both adults and can handle that, don’t you think? I’m already all over you fingers.”

Charlie’s face broke out into a huge smile.

“Yeah, I think we can handle that.” He smiled at you and grabbed you by the waist, lifted you up, walked to his bed and gently laid you down.

“You not gonna catch feelings, now are you?” You teased as you unbutton your blouse. Charlie watch you undress. He slowly took in your beautiful, dark complexion and felt his cock jump. He licked his lips eager to get you in his mouth. You watched eyes wide as he undressed in front of you. Your eyes took in his body from head to toe just before he snaked his way on top of you. “Me catch feelings?” He leaned over and grabbed one of your nipples in his mouth causing you to fall back in the bed, back arched up to him. “Na, when I’m done with you that will be all on you.” He teased as his traced your nipple with his tongue.

“You want to make a bet?” You sighed as your fingers ran through his hair. His teeth nipped your nipple before pulling it. A deep groan escaped your mouth as he fingers found your clit again.

“I think I will put up a wager on it.” Charlie scooted down between your legs. “I bet before the nights over I’ll have you wrapped around my finger.” You lifted on your elbows looking down at him.

“Ok…bet.”

Charlie grinned up at you just before taking you in his mouth. Fuck! He just might win the bet.

#Charlie Hunnam #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x black reader #charlie hunnam x black!reader #WOC representation #sons of anrachy #jax teller

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chaneajoyyy · 4 years

Note

There should be more charlie hunnam x reader stories

I’m just making my way over there (only because I was trying to catch up with everything else first). Wait there aren’t that many? I’ve only read 2 so far and just found another.

#let’s chat #sip tea #talk fanfiction #charlie hunnam x black!reader #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam fanfiction

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royallyprincesslilly · 2 years

Text

Title: CheckMate: Till Death Do Us Part {1}*

Charlie Hunnam x OFC Livvia Jones AU

Warning: Plot, Mild Cursing, Very Mild and Tame NSFW

Words: 2.9k

Summary: Not Yet.

Note: All right guys. This one is an ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. In this AU, Charlie is NOT an actor. He is a filthy rich playboy heir to a multi-billion-dollar company. I repeat THIS IS AN AU.

If you enjoyed this LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG.

As always, thank you for reading!!! ❤️❤️

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

~~~~~~~~~~

“Livvia!”

Your head snapped to the officiant in front of you who looked at you with an expectant look on his face. He was waiting for something, but you didn’t know what.

“Y—yes?”

The greying man smiled timidly and nervously looked around the room. Your eyes followed his and you looked where he did. Before you, there was a sea of people watching you. They were all dressed to the nines and looking at you with adoring looks.

What the hell?

“Em…the words,” the officiant clarified.

You still didn’t know what he meant. You felt someone’s hands holding yours and you dropped your eyes to them. Large, veined hands that were decorated with a fancy gold Rolex clasped yours. following the hand, it led you up a toned and muscular arm that fanned out to broad shoulders. Continuing the path, you went over a bearded chin and a neatly trimmed mustache. Finally making it to eyes, your breath hitched taking in the blue eyes that were more like dead blocks of ice. You flinched slightly as it all came back to you.

Your eyes quickly looked over your body at the pristine white designer gown you wore that had been chosen for you by the planner.

“Eh-em,” the officiant said again, this time less forgiving.

“I’m sorry, continue, please.”

He nodded and repeated the words; “Do you Livvia Elise Jones take Charles Matthew Hunnam to be your lawfully wedded husband? From this day forward, do you promise to have and hold Charles for better or worse, in poverty and wealth, sickness and health to love and to cherish?”

You gulped and took a deep breath. This was real. This was it. After slowly releasing the deep breath you’d taken, you spoke.

“I do,” you quietly said, voice low and meek.

The officiant smiled then turned to look at Charles Matthew Hunnam, whom everyone called Charlie. The name was a touch too informal and unofficial for these proceedings.

“Charles Matthew Hunnam, do you take Livvia Elise Jones to be your lawfully wedded wife? From this day forward, do you promise to have and hold Livvia for better or worse, in poverty and wealth, sickness and health to love and to cherish?”

The man across from you, holding your hands clenched his jaw before he responded.

“I do.”

You hadn’t expected that answer, hadn’t expected his voice to be so calm, so steady. Charlie’s eyes were back on the officiant like the obedient schoolboy.

“Bless it be,” the officiant said with a wide pleased smile. He looked like he had personal stakes in this union like he was betting on what the two of you did or something.

You wondered about it more. There were simply a lot of things you’d encountered over the last two weeks that made you curious. With that thought, your eyes traveled out to the sea of people again but to one man, Branson, Charlie’s father. The smile on his face was so bright, so genuine that it made you want to smile. You could see the love the man had for his son, and how much he wanted his happiness. While you wanted to smile at his infectious happiness for his son, it also made you feel a deep sadness you’d ignored for most of your life. The sadness of an absent parent. Your absent parent.

“With the power vested in me and the State of New York, I pronounce you husband and wife.”

The crowd erupted in applause and cheers so loud it drowned out the rest of the words of the officiant. Charlie caught your eye across you, he wasn’t smiling like the others. He stood there stern-faced and calm. The man was like a cool cucumber. Though he wasn’t flat out smiling like the others, he also wasn’t frowning. His mouth looked to be in a line that perked upward at one corner. Was it a smirk?

The flurry of white and hot pink rose petals that came at you made you stagger backward slightly. The masculine hands that held your own tightened keeping you in place. You weren’t sure if he were trying to keep you from falling over in your fancy white gown or if he were trying to keep you there so you wouldn’t try to run away.

There was a thought.

“You may kiss your bride,” the officiant said leaning forward so you both could hear him over the applause still echoing in the elaborately decorated venue hall of the fifty-second floor of the Glacier Hotel that house panoramic views of downtown Manhattan and its setting sun for your sunset nuptials. It truly was breathtaking.

His words hit you and your eyes bugged slightly. Did he really intend for the two of you to kiss in front of all these people including Charlie’s father? Charlie looked at you and the corners of his mouth turned up. Now he was smirking, but he was also coming closer. Your nerves shot up as you began to freak out. Charlie brought his face closer to yours as one of his hands rested on your waist. Though you wore several layers of tulle, you could still feel the heat radiating off of his strong hand. With him this close you could smell his cologne. It was spicy, but also woodsy and so aromatic. Somehow you knew this was his scent. He looked it.

Charlie came closer still now his lips hovered just over yours, but his eyes stayed on yours. This new proximity gave you the opportunity to pick up the flecks of green and brown hidden within his irises. They were beautiful eyes.

“Congratulations, the first point belongs to you.”

His voice was deep, gravely even, and they made goosebumps rise along your flesh. His words though were low and laced with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Was it sarcasm? Teasing? Humor? You couldn’t tell. Before you could reply or react, Charlie’s lips came down onto yours, sealing your vows, your union with a kiss.

The kiss wasn’t a passionate kiss, it was rather chaste and simple. It was merely his lips pressed to yours, nothing more. When he pulled back you saw a flicker of something in his eyes but before you could decipher what it was, it was gone.

“I present the new, Mr. and Mrs. Charles Matthew Hunnam.”

Again, everyone applauded as you both faced them. Charlie held out his arm waiting for you to loop yours with his. After taking the bouquet of white and pink roses from Ruby, your sister, you looped your arm with his. He slowly led you down the aisle and through the crowd of onlookers who wished you well with smiles, thumbs up, and enthusiastic pats on the back. These were people you didn’t know at all. They were faces of those most prominent in the business and financial sector. The ones who made big bucks and spent it as if it grew on trees. For them it did.

Twenty minutes after walking down the aisle from saying your I dos, you were standing in front of the closed French doors of the ballroom waiting for Charlie to join you. He’d been swept away by the people who wanted to personally wish him congratulations and had left you alone with your sister. She couldn’t stop gushing about how beautiful you looked in your gown and how gorgeous the decorations were. She even asked question after question about the people in attendance. You didn’t know most of the answers, but she filled everything in with a google search.

All in all, the people who’d gathered to watch you exchange vows totaled several hundred billion dollars in worth. You were not in a crowd of those you were accustomed to, and you prayed they couldn’t tell you didn’t belong. You didn’t want Branson to feel embarrassed by your lack of pedigree. Over the last three weeks, you’d gotten the impression he was a kind man, a good one too.

A spicy, woodsy, and masculine scent wafted to you and your head turned to your right to see Charlie standing straight with his eyes dipped down to his phone. You didn’t know what to say to him or even if you should say anything at all. He looked to be so engrossed in whatever he was doing, and you didn’t want to bother him. It was the chicken’s way out, but it was still a fact. A minute or two passed, then the planner approached you both informing you it was time for your walk inside.

Again, Charlie held out his arm for you. You took it and the two of you walked inside the ballroom. You smiled at those who smiled at you, nodded to those who said congratulations, and returned cheek kisses to those who offered them. When you and Charlie were in the center of the room the DJ spoke.

“The first dance.”

As they clapped, you and Charlie took your places. Then an instrumental classical mix began and both of you took the first step colliding with each other. Embarrassment filled you. Charlie glanced at you and must have instantly picked up your apprehension. He leaned closer.

“Follow my lead and you’ll be fine.”

You nodded and he began again leading you in the dance. You were grateful for him taking the lead. You didn’t know how to dance like this and now he knew it too. You tried to push down the feelings of incompetence and focus on his movements. Now was not the time.

By the time the dance ended the whole room was spinning. You felt as if you were going to be sick. Before Charlie walked off, he came close to your ear. “You wanted in this life so badly. Sink or swim.”

He was gone again.

The remainder of the reception passed in a blur of endless congratulations, small talk over the wedding and your dress and how graceful you looked, questions on what was next for the newlyweds, when to expect a baby, and so forth. When one conversation ended another swept up and when that one finished, round and round you went. Then the reception was winding down you found yourself in a corner alone nursing yet another drink. You’d lost count of how many you’d had. As far as you were concerned, they were necessary for your nerves. You felt out of place, yes, but you also didn’t know how to interact with these people. They all seemed so fancy and surreal.

One woman who approached you dripped in head-to-toe diamonds. It was clear she wore several hundred thousand dollars of the stuff. The most expensive piece of jewelry you’d ever worn before today’s nine-carat diamond ring was a ten-carat gold plated anklet the last gift from your mother to her daughters. You remembered a conversation with Branson from before where he said the glitz of the money fades. Looking around at all who were there you doubted that was the case for them.

“How are you holding up?”

You turned to find Branson Hunnam approaching you with a kind smile and gentle eyes. You plastered a smile on your face.

“Fine.”

“Enjoying yourself? I remember my wedding day and how fast it went. The only advice I give is to take it all in.”

You looked over the floor again and nodded. There was much to take in.

“Alone?”

You sighed then nodded. Branson lifted his glass and smiled again.

“I really like the way you carry yourself Livvia. You’ve handled yourself well today. I’m certain this was a good idea.”

You stifled a scoff and looked back to the crowd.

“Okay. Things here are pretty much finished, I can handle the rest. You should make your way to the honeymoon suite, get off your feet,” Branson said holding out a key card to you.

“Uh--.”

“Go on.”

He pushed the card into your palm and smiled at you before he turned to walk away. Once he’d turned, he stopped then pivoted back to you.

“Livvia—one more piece of advice,” he began dipping his head down.

“Uh—sure,” you invited.

“No marriage is perfect; no marriage is easy. Every single marriage takes work and practice. The important thing is building your strong foundation and not taking a wrecking ball to it prematurely.”

In his words, you felt there was a hidden meaning, something he was trying to say without saying it.

“I’m sure you already know this but Charlie—can be--.”

He shuffled his head from side to side trying to find the right words. He sighed then, “Difficult.”

You wanted to laugh. Was that all he was going to say?

Branson nodded then smiled warmly. “Welcome to the family. I am delighted to have you as a daughter in law and I vow to always make you feel like a welcomed part of this family.”

You couldn’t not smile at that. How sweet, you thought. Branson gently patted your shoulder then walked off. A few minutes later, you were saying bye to your sister, Ruby, and making sure she had everything she needed to get back to her new apartment that was close to her dream college—NYU. She rolled her eyes at your nagging but give you a warm hug with a tight squeeze before you left her in the care of one of the drivers for the family—this family.

The ride up the elevator was quick though you were going to the seventieth-floor penthouse suite. This suite was at the top accessible floor and was two floors in all. You wondered how much this entire day had cost Branson. Everything looked like he spared no expense and didn’t care what it cost. The way these people were with money was going to take some getting used to. When the elevator doors opened, you walked out and down the hall to the door of the penthouse. Outside on the door was a sash that said “congratulations, newlyweds” and you mustered a small smile.

“I’m a married woman,” you whispered to yourself as you slipped the card into its slot.

The red light turned green, but you hesitated. Was he inside? Was he waiting for you to consummate the marriage?

At the thought of it, your nerves took over and your belly flipped. What if he was waiting? Would you really take that step?

You bit your bottom lip and took a deep relaxing breath trying to calm yourself. Slowly, you took the card out then opened the door and dipped inside careful not to collide with the sash plastered on the door. The tulle of your dress didn’t make it easy though. Upon first sight, the room was grand and luxurious. Your heels clicked against the marbled floor as you walked down the foyer to the expansive living room that housed a massive window that showed the night scene of downtown Manhattan.

“Wow,” you whispered taking it all in.

You’d been born and raised here and loved the city. You doubted you could live anywhere else. Many complained about so many things about the city, the crowds, the noise, the litter, the traffic but you didn’t mind it all. The sounds helped you sleep, the crowds never bothered you because you knew how to weave in and out of them, the litter didn’t bother you much because you didn’t register it as much. To a tourist, it could be overwhelming but to you, it was home.

You kicked your heels off and groaned when your sore bare feet pressed to the cold marble. You could tell they were swollen from the hours you’d been on them and knew tomorrow you’d be walking with some discomfort for a few hours. You dropped the armful of tulle you carried and sighed relief from the extra weight then you walked to the left no idea what was over there. You found a bathroom, a butler’s pantry, and an exercise room. Crossing to the other side of the suite, you took in a kitchen area, another bathroom, and an office.

It took you another couple of minutes to go up the stairs hoping the master bedroom would be next, you desperately needed to get off your feet and sleep. There were three doors upstairs and you didn’t know what was behind what. Beelining it to the door you suspected was the bedroom, you pushed open the door and came to a full stop. The sight before you could have given a granny a heart attack. Charlie was standing at the edge of the bed butt ass naked with muscled and tanned skin on display his hand wrapped in a mess of red hair, red hair that belonged to the wedding planner and she was sprawled across the bed that still housed the sea of pink and white rose petals for the bride and groom’s night together.

“Hey there wifey,” he said with a smile before he plowed his hips forward ramming into the red head’s flat ass. She let out a loud moan before she splayed a hand on her flat ass and shoved herself backward right onto his groin.

“Mmm, slow down there little bronco.” He thrust forward again before dropping a heavy hand on her ass.

“Fuck—do you think you can close the door on your way out if you’re not going to join in?”

You stood there frozen, shocked, and something else. Was it angry? Hurt? Confused? You couldn’t place it but the sight before you was definitely one you hadn’t expected, on your wedding night, nonetheless. Charlie’s eyes never left yours and the look in them spoke volumes. It was similar to the one he’d given you earlier. You placed this look now, it was malice.

For some reason, you felt tears pricking your eyes and before one could roll down your cheek you turned and began closing the door. Before the door closed Charlie’s voice rose.

“This point belongs to me, wifey.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged/untagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#checkmate: till death do us part fic #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam au #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you #charlie hunnam x black reader #black fanfiction #alternate universe #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic #alternate universe fanfic

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ingeniousmindoftune · 2 years

Text

STORIES I HAVENT WRITTEN AND ARE GETTING Around to finishing…

• The Class Trip” / Method Man

• His Muse / Lewis Tan

• Speeding / Lewis Hamilton

• Revise / Chapter one

• Too Much To Drink / Part three

• Hey mamas / part two

• If I wanted/ Part 2

And many more…

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hotdamnhunnam · 3 years

Text

Kutte to Pieces

A/N: You guysss I don’t know why I keep feeling compelled to write these angsty shits within the KutteVerse, but here’s another 🥲 The mood came over me to write this when I was randomly reminded of this song that I’ve loved for years, and hearing it with Jax in mind brought me to tears 💔 This fic is set sometime after Kutte Open but can also be read as a standalone!

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: swearing, tiny bit of smut, angsty angst – descriptions of reader being dead (alive in flashbacks) and the intense effects her passing has on Jax

Word Count: ~2.3k

“Who was she, Daddy?”

Little man always saw the ghost behind the mask. Light through the empty burning steady. Lost love living on in Jax. The father only ever shared the surface of the facts—but knew someday his son would ask. Knew to be ready.

Ring-clad hand ruffles that soft golden blonde mop and tucks him into bed. Kiss on the forehead. Takes one tiny hand and holds it pressed against his chest, the presidential leather of his vest. Heart beats beneath and bleeds the words he never said. “You feel that?”

Abel nods a quiet yes. Kid raised in chaos knows that quiet says it best. That words are weak and weak is bad.

So does his dad. Knows words corrupt. Would cut you up. The pieces that he keeps of you—the life he still lives in the deep of you—that’s all he has to keep him whole. The truth of you is in his soul.

Light burning brightest where the threat of darkness lurks. To bring it to his tongue… feels wrong, beyond believing. Knows to even try would be a fucking crime.

For that’s just how words work: they fall short of their meaning. Every time.

He’d tried to put you into words back in his prime. When summer was the only season. Songs and sonnets. Heart spread wide, thought every word was honest. Never lied. But cast the pages in the fire when you died, and cursed himself for having tried. High fucking treason. Truly never was a reason for the rhyme.

Words can’t do justice to a single part, of all the light that he still carries in his heart, much less the sum. They can’t hit home.

That’s where you are and someday home he’ll come.

He speaks in silence to his little one. Just as he’d always done with you before your final day was gone.

Do you know me, son?

The answer in those eyes of Teller blue. Streaked with the sun, light of the mom he never knew. Shade of the Son—father who hides so much from view—yet still somehow the silent answer now feels true. I do.

Then you know her too. She’s right here and will always be. In me. In you.

***************

“I know we’re tempting fate.”

He’s down on one knee and your heart pounds at his rate. Soul bound forever to its mate.

“But babe, this is eleven years too late.”

Yes. Yes. You want forever with this man and not a goddamn second less. Love him to death and hope death has the grace to wait.

Only a month has passed since you came back to town. Already Jax has seized the Redwood birthright rooting him deep in this godforsaken ground. Has stood before the tree he’d climbed for all his life and cut it down. The prince of Charming cast away his cursed crown. He’d never thought he had the strength to pay the cost—but that was back when all was lost—with you he’s found.

Just needs a little time to tie up some loose ends. Make sure the club is in a good place when he steps down as Vice President. Clean break. No chance to take. Knows this is not the life for which he and his wife and son are meant. You bring new clarity and strength to him with every waking moment, give him faith with all the love you live to make.

To leave this life of chaos at his back Jax only needs a couple months.

But fuck this business of engagement—has no patience—wants to marry you at once.

That night in bed, after he fucks you dead, you tease him as if you don’t want exactly what he wants. Diamond ring catches all the starlight through the window, as your hand sweeps through the sun-gold strands on his beloved head, at rest beside you on the pillow. In the dark it sparkles so. “I thought they all say love is patient, no?”

He pouts and smiles in the same breath as his baby blue eyes glow. “Bitch, I proposed eleven years ago.”

You laugh as you recall just what he means, gaze bright as it replays the scenes. “Jax, you were high and bought a ring pop from a candy dispenser. Had me suck it while you fucked me wearing nothing but your leather. Said the universe was made for us to be together.”

He shrugs and smirks and kisses you all slow and tender. “Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. The stars told me this is forever.”

More than this or any universe could measure. They’d told you the same, ever since that first night when you looked up and saw all the stars in the sky spelled his name. “So you talk to the stars, Teller?”

There’s a line from a book or song that he remembers—you always bring a thousand words to mind and make them something more and something better—that’s the light of who you are. He lives among the stars. He never even saw them till he met her.

***************

I do.

That’s all he hears now as he finds you.

Lost you.

Always knew this love would cost you.

Fucking knew. Yet you had told him this was your choice. Anything is true in your voice. Still he never should’ve dared to fucking trust you.

But he did.

I did.

And trusts you still and always will no matter how he tries to fight it.

Still he trusts your heart is beating as he buries every piece of him inside it.

There are no words. Just the weight—of nothing—crushing—way it hurts. The death of everything his life was ever worth. The promise of another life inside of you that died before it saw the light of birth. The wait—the curse—of being crushed to fucking dust yet forced to stay upon this earth.

I do.

Just ask the stars above—I’m still right here my love—inside you.

Death just blinds you. Stars were wrong to think the lies they told could bind you. He’s the one who comes running back home and finds you.

Finds you like this. Reaper inked in ruthless black upon his back reminds you both the stars can’t fight this.

All the stars are fucking gone. Dusted and done.

You were the only fucking one.

***************

You have to go on.

For your son.

I know—it feels as though you’re nothing but a shadow—but to him you’re still the sun.

He knows that’s what you would’ve told him. But your arms aren’t here to hold him. In your wake there’s nothing but an empty ache and he can’t rise to face the dawn.

Jax hates the fact fate made you go and made him stay.

He feels that way—for just a day.

On some level he always will.

But on another level knows that he remains upon this earth with two roles still left to fulfill.

To be a father—love his sweet son like none other. Just the way you would’ve loved him as a mother. That’s the purpose that the echo of your love seeks to instill. Swallow your loss as if it’s not a fatal pill.

The second purpose isn’t one you would’ve blessed. But love alone can’t fill the hole cut in his chest. His other role is to wreak vengeance for the precious blood his enemies had dared to fucking spill.

To fucking kill.

To kill everyone else. Condemn them all to hell.

Until he’s finally earned that same fate for himself.

He wakes each morning to your ghost.

So faraway—and yet he knows, with every passing day, the homecoming he craves is pulling close.

***************

Not close enough.

It’s fucking rough.

First and last time he even tried, to have a woman in his bed after you died, he kept his back to her all night and fucking cried.

She was still there come morning light. Still hoping he would let her touch and hold him tight. That he would come inside. She wouldn’t even mind, if he just took her from behind, to who she was completely blind, and called the name of his lost bride. She lied that it would be alright.

That was what made it even worse.

The love that blessed him while you lived, the greatest blessing life could give... was now a curse.

It was his cross to bear—not hers. Nor any others. Didn’t seem it would be fair, for him to go to that dark place and take her there. He drowns alone in these dark waters.

All those years ago when you had first left town, the both of you so young... he drowned in every fucking hole he found. He didn’t care if it felt wrong. Your face was all he ever saw when he looked down. Your name the only prayer on his tongue, with every push and pull and pound.

He prayed that you would stay away yet all at once dreamt of the day the stars would bring you back around.

There are no dreams left in the deep.

At least he’d stayed afloat with some mad sense of hope, back then when he had fucked to cope. Vowed once to love you till you died and lived if only for that one promise to keep.

Now all he hopes for is the end of his own rope. His own soul last upon the list he’s cast to reap.

At least he finds you still when he falls fast asleep.

In dreams—some nights they’re sweet in which he fucks you till you’re bursting at the seams—but other nights the price of seeing you again is high and steep—he finds you bled to death upon the floor and fucking screams. The whole damn town can hear him weep.

Some of those nights he’ll wake to something soft and warm.

A little angel in his room. Almost afraid to come, but somehow brave enough to bring his father home. A tiny hand upon his arm.

Daddy, don’t cry.

The father’s grief, in stark relief, felt by the son who loves him more than anyone and doesn’t dare to ask him why.

He sees himself in those blue eyes.

He sees his wife—the star that fell so many years ago to save this precious life—and finds the light you left behind that never dies.

***************

A year has passed, since Abel asked.

He’s old enough at last... that Jax can slowly start to peel away the layers of his mask.

But to make sure his son feels no guilt, for the reason you were killed, is no small task.

He doesn’t want to spell it out. But knows a half-truth casts full doubt. Secrets dig graves, and though your path to heaven and his path to hell have already been paved, with all the lies that crushed your dreams until they caved... his little son can still be saved.

Silence so often says it best. Means more. But words do what they can to fill the rest—to make the chaos of the stars hurt just a little less—pick up the pieces, seek some peace amidst the war. To make some sense of why the stars make such a mess. That’s what they’re for.

Even in anarchy there’s order. Clarity cuts through the chaos and collects the pieces scattered in the blur.

Places his hand upon that tiny heart and tells him who you were.

***************

It’s just a stone.

Just dust and dirt and buried bone.

The last respect that you were shown, before you left him all alone.

He hates it here. Ever since you were laid to rest hasn’t returned in seven years. Feared that the flowers on your grave would wilt, beneath the pall of grief and guilt. Fall to the cursed salt of his tears.

His tears have no right to be spilled. Your blood already was—your dying breath had begged him not to blame himself but hell of course he does—said he would love you till you died, made you his bride, and so love killed.

He hates it here. But comes today to face his fear.

The sun is bright—the star so near it gives this world a thing called day amidst a universe of night—and by its light, he doesn’t shed a fucking tear.

He doesn’t hate a fucking thing.

This universe was made for only one thing.

Leaves a kiss in case the dust of you can feel something.

It’s just a stone, this tiny rock that turns around the closest star; this isn’t where you are. You’ve made your home somewhere beyond the buried bone, dug in the dirt of Charming.

Somewhere doesn’t feel so far. So close at last you hear him calling—darlin’, I’m coming.

***************

Said the universe was made for us to be together.

Jax smiles at your words—echo no longer hurts—out on the highway as the wind whips past the reaper smiling back upon his leather.

Seven years spent cut to pieces. In the wake of love those pieces of his soul had gone to war.

But now at last the cage that keeps him on this cursed earth releases. Sets him free to seek the chaos of the stars... to ride the sky to where you are... that’s where peace is. He’s whole again and so much more.

The one star calling... all the other stars are falling, to make room for him to come.

Darlin’, I’m home.

***************

… So I love how this turned out and would *really love* to hear from you, if you love it too 🥲♥️

– KutteVerse Masterlist

– Main Masterlist

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littlemelaninfics · 1 year

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Jax Teller Masterlist

MUST BE 18+ TO READ

Titles marked with a 🦋 include smut

Titles marked with 🧸 include DDIg/littlespace

Titles marked with 🖤 include Dark! themes

Everything is written as a black reader in mind but everyone is welcome to read!

•Ride

#jax teller #jax teller imagine #jax teller x black!oc #jax teller smut #charlie hunnam #charlie hunnam x black!reader #charlie hunnam smut #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy smut

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calif0rnia-lovers · 1 year

Text

kiss it better 02.

read part 01 first

pairing: jax teller x black!reader | words: 2.1k

warning: none for this chapter..just mention of Opie's death...rip Ope.

sum: years have passed. you find yourself back in charming. but the man you've left behind now carries a thirst for vengeance you're not certain you can save him from.

A shot of whiskey. The pounding resonated beneath Jax's bruised skin. His left eye sporting a freshly pounded bruise. His knuckles split open. Lip busted.

Deja vu.

Nearly three years have passed, but the scenery is the same. The clubhouse has not changed. The loud music, exchange of alcohol, laughter over games of pool and cards, crow eaters looking for a body to take home.

The only difference is that Jax Teller is seated on the sofa with a bottle of whiskey. It's pressed against his swelling eye, a feeble attempt to cool off his heated skin. Lisa sits alongside him, her fingers toying with his hair. Any other night, she would have him undressed by now. But tonight, she can hardly get Jax to speak, let alone look at her.

It's been two days since Jax's return from County. Two days since Opie's wake. Although a party in their fallen friend's honor is in full swing, Jax is seated. He knows people are watching, waiting for his next move. Waiting to see if he's going to cry, scream…do something other than act as though business was on as usual.

He'd somehow survived a meeting with Galen and the IRA and met with the mayor in a single day. The meeting with Galen was more eventful than the easy ploy to convince the mayor to assist in Jax's latest plan. Galen couldn't entertain, let alone trust, the young president. He found Jax short-tempered, cocky, and undeserving of the patch on his chest. The swollen knuckles on Jax's left hand are evidence of his short temper.

"Wanna go home?" The warmth of Lisa's lips caresses Jax's ear, her palm drifting down his chest. Shifting closer to him, she nuzzles her nose against the warmth of his pulse. She's surprised to find it beating calm and steady beneath his heated skin. "Take your mind off everything?"

"I'm good tonight," Jax mumbles, shifting forward and out of her touch.

Despite the cold dismissal, Lisa remained seated alongside him. Jax's jaw flexes as her palms drag along the shoulders of his kutte. The weight of her chest presses against him as her lips press a soft, lingering kiss against his cheek.

"You haven't seen me since you got back," she hummed. "You need a proper welcome home."

Jax is incapable of responding. The little energy he has left is directed towards holding off retrieving his gun and heading across town. Biding time, suppressing the urge to act had proven more exhausting than he'd initially thought.

The heel of his palm pressed against his eye. The action seems to double the pain, but he doesn't stop. Apart from the pain, the voice in his head is jumbled. Amplified. Getting louder with each passing second.

Sergeant Mackey…home invasions…Charming Heights…Abel…Opie… Gemma's shit…fucking Clay…Opie…Pope…Opie.

Each issue at hand seemed to demand immediate attention. And time. Time Jax couldn't possibly have. He hadn't slept since he left County and has barely been able to scratch the surface of the shit he was set to handle.

His grip tightens around the bottle in his hand as a vibration sets loose against his chest.

"Shit…"

It's the fifth call in the last half hour. Jax lets it ring. Straight to voicemail.

Unscrewing the cap, Jax downs a hearty swallow of whiskey. He can't help but wince as the liquid burns his throat. He's in the process of going for a second swig when he spots you. The bottle stops short of his lips, his eyes blinking.

His first thought was an illusion. A trick brought on by the mixture of lack of sleep and whiskey. The last time he saw you, there were tears in your eyes.

As he blinks, Jax finds his vision has begun to blur. But, despite the blurred vision, you're still there. Caught in Bobby's tight embrace, unaware that Jax has noticed your arrival.

"How is he?" Your question comes out muffled against Bobby's shoulder.

"Don't think it's hit him yet," Bobby admits as he lets you go. He runs a hand over his tired eyes. "You know the kid. Keeps shit inside. Been trying to handle club shit from the moment he got out."

Jax was arrested…Pope…a debt to be paid…Opie…laid to rest.

The phone call was a blur. Hell, the last 48 hours were a blur.

Gemma had called in a panic. Her initial call was rejected and sent to voicemail. You aren't sure how she got your number. It had changed the moment you landed in New York years prior. The plan with her and Charming was simple—out of sight, out of mind. But the thing about Gemma is…she can't be ignored. It took three more calls before you answered.

"Jax's been arrested—"

"Since when is that new?"

Instead of meeting your comment with her typical sass, Gemma shared the news.

Jax, Tig, and Chibs arrested for murder. Opie was dragged into the transport van. Damon Pope's unwavering demand, and Jax's inability to find another solution to end the war festering between the Sons and the kingpin. Opie's sacrifice to prevent his best friend from being the member of the MC to die on the floor of Stockton prison. Jax hadn't shared the details with his mother. In fact, he hadn't spoken a single word about the events of the short time spent in the walls of the prison. But the look that passed over Chibs' face as the Scot had arrived back at the clubhouse, Opie's death was bloody.

You have no recollection of hastily packing a carry-on. No memory of buying a plane ticket or even flying from JFK.

You just remember the sickening feeling, the pit in your stomach. The fear that not being able to get to Charming fast enough would lead to Jax doing something he couldn't take back.

It's a feeling that dissipates the second your eyes meet his. By the time you spot him, Jax is halfway to you.

"Hey—"

The initial weight of his body threatens to knock you off balance. Jax's arms wrap around you, the firmness of his grip pinning you against his chest. His arms tighten around you, his face burrowing against the warmth of your skin. The tears he's spent the past few days suppressing are unlocked. They silently fall, his shoulders trembling enough to advert the eyes of his fellow Sons.

As your fingers gently pass through his hair, Jax's body relaxes. Each touch encourages his breathing to slow. It's an unfamiliar feeling, the weight on his shoulders seeming to lift for the first time in years.

You swallow, a feeble attempt to push the lump rising in your throat back down.

You can't cry. Not in front of him.

It was the one rule you'd repeated to yourself the entire plane ride. Tears for Opie had to be spilled out of Jax's sight. No matter how much you loved Opie, you knew it paled in comparison to the love he received from Jax.

You allow your grip to loosen around him, but Jax remains. Your eyes grip shut as the pads of your fingers pass over the familiar stitching on his back.

The smiling reaper silently challenged you to voice the request on your mind. Possibly because he knew you to be the only one brave enough to ask the President to follow suit with the impossible task. Or, maybe because he knew without Opie, Jax's moral compass has cast too far from true north. And although Jax could never deny you in the past, the man shaped by your time apart was different than who you left behind that night.

You find yourself cowering beneath the Reaper's silent challenge. After years apart, you can't have your first words to Jax unleash his festering anger.

Your words come out barely above a whisper. "You're going to be okay, Jax."

You're not sure where the confidence in your voice comes from. You've known him long enough to know Jax is resilient. He has carried more than any ordinary man. But you both know he might not be able to carry this—not alone.

Maybe that’s why, despite her hatred for you, Gemma called you when she saw the unfamiliar icy, cold look in her son's eyes. She knew that if she selfishly tried to tackle the issue alone her son would be too far gone.

Be okay.

If he disagrees with your belief in him, Jax doesn't protest. He remains silent.

"What happened to your face?"

It's a question he's heard from you a hundred times, yet Jax has never found a perfect answer. His eyes drop. Asked a few years prior, he would have a rehearsed response prepared. One that watered down the details. Tonight, it stops just shy of his lips. Lying to you is always the hardest. Paired with his exhaustion, he doesn’t have the energy.

He watches your brow furrow as you take in his recently earned black eye. A deep breath fills his lungs, the look of concern in your eyes forcing Jax to release it.

"Pointless shit," he sighs, wincing as your thumb brushes over his swollen knuckles.

"You need to ice this."

"It's fine," he dismisses your concern, slipping his hand out of yours. Jax's grip tightens around your waist, a silent plea to remain close as you step towards the bar.

Your touch instinctively lifts his chin. The warmth of your palms against his cheeks pulls his eyes shut. Finally, he allows you to assess the damage of his most recent fight.

Another useless fight fueled by his misplaced anger.

The first kiss is featherlight, settling on the bruise beneath Jax's eye. Each that follows seems to possess magical healing powers. Passing over his wounds, both seen and unseen. The pain throbbing beneath his skin seeping away with each touch of your lips.

Your lips stop shy of his, the action forcing Jax's eyes open.

The bright blue you'd come to love was dimmed. His youthful playfulness was replaced by tiredness. As his forehead rests against yours, your palms slide down Jax's chest.

The patch you had helped sew on a few years prior was now faded. Almost as worn of the leather it was stitched too. As your fingers trace the stitched letters, you can't help but doubt your previous statement.

President.

It comes with an unbearable burden and the task of making tough decisions. Decisions often result in scars not visible to the human eye. And just as many visible ones.

Seeing Jax’s skin bruised and scared is second nature. But your mind can’t stop from wondering how bad it got in your absence.

Your teeth dig into the flesh of your lip, your fingers tracing the letters on his chest. Slowly building the confidence to present your request. One you knew that Jax would have to deny. Not only because he was President, and his men would look to him to lead, but because his best friend was just ripped from him.

"Promise me you won't do anything stupid." You don't need to open your eyes to know Jax's eyes have rolled. The sharp intake of breath is enough of an indication. "I'm serious, Jax. Retaliation is out of the question—"

"Y/N—"

"Jackson, I'm serious." Meeting his gaze, you keep your voice low. An argument is the last thing either of you have energy for. "Not tonight, when you can't think straight. Promise me you won't do anything."

Jax remains silent. His shoulders fall with the breath he releases. His hand passes over his face drawing your attention to bags set deep beneath his tired eyes.

"Not tonight," Jax echoes. The kiss he leaves against your forehead is the seal of his promise.

The vibration of his phone pulls Jax back to reality.

The sixth call of the night, whoever was on the other end was relentless.

He reaches into his kutte, his brow furrowing as he reads the caller id.

"I gotta take this," he sighs, his palm dragging down his face.

He catches sight of the look in your eyes. A weak smile finds his lips.

"Relax, y/n." Jax chuckles, the sound almost enough to convince you he's back to normal. "It's just Nero."

"Nero?"

"He's a friend," Jax replies, phone already against his ear.

Despite the reassurance, your eyes remain on Jax as he moves to step away. His fingers find yours for a brief moment, his mind already drifting toward the next task.

"Where you staying tonight?"

You blink. The thought hadn't crossed your mind. "Uh--Figured I'd just get a room—"

Jax's brow furrows. Ignoring the rattling of Nero's voice in his ear, Jax covers the receiver of the phone.

"It's getting late. You can stay with me tonight."

Jax doesn't wait for a debate on the matter. A gentle squeeze of your hand, and he's gone.

Your eyes follow the Reaper on his back, your teeth digging in your lip as he disappears through the chapel doors.

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miagomez-1509 · 2 years

Text

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midnxghtsunwrites · 3 years

Text

PILLOW TALK | 18+

PAIRING —

jax teller x black reader

SUMMARY —

you give your husband a pleasurable punishment for annoying you.

WARNINGS —

18 + smut, pillow humping, penetration without protection, choking kink, daddy kink, slight (but not slight) breeding kink, praise kink, slight voyeurism, sexual degradation, oral (female & male receiving), edging, squirting, over stimulation, 18+ gif under the cut, fluff if you blink

NOTES —

idk why this is so fucking longggggg but it is so 🤷🏾‍♀️. also i can't spell so ignore all spelling mistakes. also also, while i tagged this story as x black reader, this goes for any poc or just anybody

when jax teller caught you fucking yourself on one of the decorative pillows on the shared bed, he wasn't surprised

you were always impatient — especially when you were annoyed with your husband

he came home with unexplained bruises the night before

you asked about it — he said nothing so you decided to punish him by not waiting for him to get home

he also didn't kiss you goodbye this morning

usually, he'd be fucking you senseless by this time of night, but presidential duties call for late nights and horny wives

you were hoping he'd call to let you know he'd be late, but recently, he seems to have forgotten what a phone is good for

so there you are, straddling and soaking the side of the pillow, naked and warm

you imagine jax's dick rubbing along your slit and occasionally sinking into you before popping out of your hole

you simulate this with your fingers as you dig into yourself

"fuu —" you moan out, "right there, jax."

you twitch as you speed up, the friction of the cotton against your pussy making you squeal

jax crosses his arms over his chest, taking in the sight of his beautiful wife's body — squirming and waiting for him

he glides across the room quietly before he ends up right behind you, licking his lips

"you impatient bitch." he announces himself. "where are the boys?"

you shiver at the name he calls you — you have such a weak spot for him and his words

"with gem." you take your bottom lip into your mouth with a moan, "i'm annoyed with you, you asshole."

even though you're mad, you allow him to rest a hand on your bare ass and spread your cheeks apart, revealing your glistening wetness

"and why's that, darlin'?"

"you didn't kiss me this morning."

jax chuckles at your whiny behavior, "you're a spoiled ass old lady, you know that?"

"hmm," you guide your ass back, closing your eyes as jax gathers your juices from your pussy before spreading it around your asshole, "whose fault is that, daddy?"

your outlaw biker rolls his eyes and scoffs, "you know i don't like you getting off without me, babe. guess i need to teach you a lesson."

ooo, you're excited for this one.

one hand wraps around the back of your neck and presses you down into the sheets while the other swirls around your cunt, gathering your cum from your previous orgasm

you're soaking wet, sweat and nut dripping down your thigh

with no time wasted, jax sinks three fingers into you and curls them

grinding your ass back, you drop your head forward into the bed and bite down on the sheets under you

"get your head out of the goddamn sheet, y/n." he lifts the hand around your throat for three seconds to slap your ass before pushing your head down further.

you twist your neck so your ear is pressed into the sheet instead of your mouth

"daddy," you moan aloud, trying to chase your quickly approaching high, his fingers digging into your softness without remorse, "fucccckkkk!"

"look at you — soaking my rings like the slut you are." his fingers plunge into you, hitting all the right spots

your body seemed to go into hyperdrive — you snake your hand down to your clit only for jax to pull his fingers from within you and slap your hand away

with a heaving chest, you groan out, "i hate you."

now he pulls away completely, "excuse me?"

you resist the urge to roll your eyes, instead grinding your ass back — he's stood directly behind you, his crotch pressing up against your cunt

you can feel him hardening and straining against his jeans

"i. hate. you." you repeat, words coming out as moans

"get on your knees."

his tone is so stern that you almost comply right away.

almost.

instead, you shake your head and arch your back as you crawl forward on the bed, risking your own pleasure just to spite him

you don't get far before he grabs your ankles, one hand wet against your skin, and drags you towards him, flipping you in the process

laid out under him completely bare, the sight of his eyes on you nearly leads you to another orgasm

"get on your fucking knees."

"well," you tease, "when you say it like that..."

he helps you slide off the bed with shaky legs — you sink to your weak knees and face his wet crotch.

you can smell your own juices and see his dick strain against the constricting material

without wasting time, you pull his pants and underpants off, his manhood slapping against his abdomen

you take him into your mouth, swirling and spitting and gobbling and gagging and all things nasty — jax grabs a hold of your head and fucks into your mouth like it's just another warm, wet hole

when he releases in your mouth, you don't even think about swallowing it all — you just do.

his moans ignite something deep within you — something that craves him deep in you

"on the bed."

this time you abide by his command without question

you lay on your back and watch as he pulls his kutte and hoodie off, revealing his toned and tattooed chest

he steps out of the pants that had pooled by his feet and gets down on his knees

guess it's your turn

his lips latch on to your bud, a hum of pleasure escaping you at the feeling

you swear you've never met someone who eats the 🐱 like your husband

he releases a string of spit before spreading it with his tongue, and capturing your pussy lips in his mouth

your chest heaves at the build up and sensitivity of your clit

"jax," you squeal loudly and lift your head from the bed to watch him

your hips move at their own accord, chasing the high jax is so good at giving you

one hand grabs a hold of your crumpled sheets while the other entangles in his soft hair

he grabs a hold of your closing thighs and pushes them apart, opening you up more to his assault on your coochie

you can hear your wetness as he tongues your pussy, his eyes closed as if savoring in your taste

subconsciously, your body twitches, your orgasm quickly approaching

as if it couldn't get any better, jax adds his long digits into the mix

his fingers pump in and out of you with such ferocity

then suddenly, he slows down, his tongue licking a long and agonizingly sluggish stripe from the hole of your ass up to your clit

"w-what —" you see stars behind your eyelids, "stop edging me."

he glances up at you and through hazy eyes, you can see a hint of a cocky smirk and a charming wink

your eyes flutter closed as you feel him shift to kneel beside you

"jax..." you moan and writhe under his stare — you can just feel him looking at you

leaning forward, he kisses your chapped lips, transferring the taste of your juices to your mouth

the hand that was submerged in your heat trails down your skin from your throat to your pelvis — your body twitching at his warm touch

without warning and his lips still attached to yours, he dips three fingers into your honeypot and curls them up

his hand flashes up and down inside you, brushing against your sensitive clit and hitting your g-spot relentlessly

"f —" you pull away from jax's lips and transfer your gaze to his hands moving in you

your brain and body turns to mush as a wave of ecstasy rushes through you

your hand shakes as you grab a hold of jax's wrist that flexes and relaxes in you

"jax, i'm gonna squirt." you moan as your grip tightens, "fuck, fuck, fuck! don't stop, please!"

the pleasure is so immense, tears begin to flow down your face

and then you squirt, your juices leaking on your sheets

you don't even focus on the fact that you have to change the sheets before bed (which you have no energy to do)

all you can think about is the feeling of jax's hands on and in you

fuck, you just love when he touches you — solidifying the fact that you're his and his alone.

especially in a heated moment like this

feeling powerless, you use your remaining energy to bring his head to yours

he peppers sweet kisses all over your face, removing his fingers from your hole and trailing them up your skin

they land around your throat, gently squeezing the sides of your neck as he meets your lips

you moan into your husband's mouth

suddenly, he grabs the lower part of your body and turns your hips towards his

with his body over yours, propped up by his elbows, he slips his tongue into yours, the kiss growing into one that seems to give you your strength back

jax teller just has that effect

before you can register what is happening, jax slips into you with his thick cock

fuck — you just love his body

he's blessed in places that other people could only wish for

he groans against your lips at the feeling of your wet warmth

"fuck, baby. you feel so fucking good." he moans out as his hand cradles the side of your face, "so nice and tight for me. so fucking wet around my dick."

"makes me wanna cum deep in this pussy and give you another kid."

at the thought, you run a hand over abel's name tattoo on his chest

abel wasn't biologically yours but he is very much your son

jax parts your legs so your knees are practically by your head and slams into you, going balls deep in you

"give me another baby then." you pant, running your hand down his chest to grab his chain

he slows down for a millisecond to give you a look, "you sure?"

you take your bottom lip into your mouth and snake your hands down to grab his beautiful ass

"fuck yeah."

with the go-ahead, he wreaks absolute havoc on you

his thrusts are hard and relentless, chasing his high as much as he's bringing you yours

"oh my g—" you scream out as his dick repeatedly jabs your cervix, "jax!"

"that's it, baby," he meets your y/c/e eyes as he plunges into you, mercilessly, "scream my name."

you can feel the familiar sensation approach, "fuck! i'm gonna cum, jax."

your eyes cross and your mind becomes slosh, yet again

jax has that effect too

your pussy walls clench around his throbbing cock, milking him as much as he milks himself off

"fuck, y/n," he grunts, shakily as his orgasm approaches

he doesn't usually come this fast but the mixture of your wetness and the prospect of cumming in you to make a kid has him yearning to do just that

you cum before him, your body trembling and writhing unintentionally.

"fuck," you try to push him off slightly to relieve some of the intense pleasure but he has the exact opposite in mind

he drives into you once more, feeling as he ejaculates inside of you, strings of cum painting your insides

he stills, breathing heavily as he rests his weight on top of you

you exhale deeply, your hands trailing up to rub his back

he would never tell the boys but he loves being in your arms after such a hard fuck like that

"i think i should punish you more often..." you giggle, turning your head slightly to look at him

he pecks your cheek sweetly, "you can try."

you two linger in the silence before jax grinds into you once more for good luck

"i love you." he says, sincerely.

you smile, joyfully. you love hearing him say that.

"i love you more."

"and this baby we just made."

you can't help the laugh that escapes you. suddenly, you remember a moment from the morning, a pair of lips ghosting yours.

suddenly, you whip your head around to look at your man who was already admiring you

"you did kiss me this morning!"

he winks, "never go a morning without."

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