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laurfilijames · 1 year ago

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Under His Kutte

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.2k

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Sending a nude photo. Fingering. Unprotected intercourse.

Summary: When Jax forgets his kutte at your house, you make good use of it.

A/N: I am such a slut for this man especially when he wears a hat, and particularly when it's backwards. I stared at this photo for too long and needed to write about it, and with the help from @ramadiiiisme, this happened. Bonus action of The Hat™️ at the end 🫠

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The same flustered excitement you felt in your stomach every time you saw Jax stirred up again despite having only said goodbye to him a few hours ago, the benefits of him having accidentally left his kutte behind continuing to grace you.

You placed it back on the sofa where he had carelessly discarded it last night, pretending as though you hadn’t seen it there as soon as you walked out of your bedroom earlier that morning, his rush to leave after being woken up by a phone call from Chibs making him forget his most treasured item of clothing.

You sat on the barstool at the kitchen island, sipping from a cup of coffee you had been nursing, smiling into the mug when you heard your door open and Jax strut through it as confidently and comfortably as usual.

“I left my kutte,” he explained, getting right to the point while glancing around your living room quickly, lifting up the blanket and a pillow off of the loveseat before spinning on the spot to begin his search of the sofa.

“Oh, did you? I hadn’t noticed,” you lied, your cheeks feeling a flush that was partly from the heat of the coffee but mostly from the sight of Jax. He had his Reaper Crew hat on backwards, sunglasses still on, and the sunshine had kissed the skin on his face to tint it with a healthy pink that was the same whenever he was fucking you.

Finally locating it, Jax held up his vest with a smile before shrugging it on and walking over to you, his smile bright and playful, and you knew his eyes held the same sparkle behind the black lenses that covered them that you could never forget.

He leaned down and kissed you, bracing his arms on either side of your body to land on the countertop and cage you in, forcing your body to arch back into it as he delved his tongue deep inside your mouth.

You hummed when he peeled himself away from you, your eyes feeling heavy with lust as you watched him lick his lips.

“Did you forget it on purpose?” you teased, slipping your hands beneath the leather panels to feel the warmth radiating off his body through his layers of faded shirts.

He chuckled, his hands reaching up to cup your face while he nudged your legs apart with his, standing close to you where he was able to grind his hips against you.

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?”

You giggled when he grinned at you before capturing your lips again, pressing his bulge into your core to make you moan into his mouth, the fervor of your kiss growing with each pass of your tongues.

“Fuck!” he hissed, backing away from you but still holding your face in his hands. “I gotta go.”

You breathed out a disappointed sigh, tilting your head to the side as you watched him step away and try to collect himself, hoping he’d convince himself to stay for a hard and fast fuck.

His phone rang in his pocket, and he dug to answer it immediately, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Yeah, I’ll be right there. I said I’ll be right there…Five minutes! Jesus Christ.”

Jax flipped it shut and shook his head as he replaced it back in his pocket, closing the distance between you again with another smile on his face as soon as he looked at you.

“I’ll see you later.” he spoke sweetly, his tone completely different from the one he had just used to whatever poor soul had called him.

You nodded, smiling again as he kissed you once, then again, chuckling when he finally found the strength to stop and back away from you.

He stormed through to the front door in a few long strides, giving you one last grin as he shut the door behind him, and you grinned to yourself as you picked up your phone and sent him the photo you had taken just after he had called you to say he was stopping by.

You listened for the roar of his Harley to start up, feeling giddy as you waited to see if he checked his phone before taking off.

Standing, you walked over to the window, seeing him sitting on his bike looking at his phone with a huge smile on his face.

Your phone rang, his name and number lighting up the screen, and you answered through a smile so big it hurt your cheeks, “Did you forget something else?”

“Are you kidding me?” he asked, his amusement clear in his voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, how am I going to focus on anything now?”

“It’s just a little something to get you back here.”

“Like I need the help,” he said pointedly, starting his bike where it purred loudly through both the phone and the walls of your house.

“I’ll be back to deal with you soon,” he both promised and threatened, making heat surge through your body like wildfire.

“See you later, Teller.”

You hung up, tucking your lip between your teeth to stave off your smile as you looked at the photo you had sent again, feeling more than satisfied with the reaction it had gotten out of him.

You wore nothing but his kutte, your body that he had already made tired and sore from a sleepless night on full display under his leather, the bare skin on your chest bearing the claiming marks left by his mouth.

He took off quickly, his engine rumbling so loud it vibrated the house and sent a shiver down your spine, and you hoped whatever it was he was going to do was done quickly so he could get back to you soon.

You did everything you could think of to occupy yourself; laundry, dishes, even baked muffins and whipped up a casserole, knowing Jax would be hungry when he got there, or if he wasn’t, that he would be made hungry from all the things you did whenever you were together.

The impatience you felt was beginning to outgrow your arousal, the desperation in wanting to have your hands on him and his on you becoming too much to stand any longer.

Not two minutes later did you hear the distant grumble of his Harley tearing through your neighbourhood, your body conditioned over time to respond to that sound and awaken a neediness and desire that never seemed to be sated.

Even though you expected it, you still jumped when Jax barrelled through the door with a hungry and desperate look on his face as he stared you down while kicking off his white sneakers, his grin sly and crooked.

“Why the fuck aren’t you naked yet?” he panted, crossing the room to get to where you stood waiting for him.

“Isn’t half the fun undressing me?”

“Yeah, but when I’ve been staring at that pic you sent me all day, I kinda want to get to the point,” he explained, his eyebrows lifting upward while he tugged his jeans down to the floor.

He still had his ball cap on, worn with the bill of it facing forward this time, the shade casting on his face making his blue eyes glow like flames in the shadow.

Jax slipped his kutte off, placing it carefully on the back of the sofa as if making a point that he knew where it was or would be needing it again soon, and stepped toward you, tipping his head and giving you a piercing look.

“Now, get naked.”

You obeyed with a grin, crossing your arms to grab at the hem of his ‘SAMCRO’ t-shirt, pulling it over your head where you had the satisfaction of hearing Jax’s breath hitch when your tits became exposed, and tossed it on the floor beside you.

Remaining in your panties, you went to assist him with his clothes, only to have him grip your wrists, his long fingers wrapping around them securely.

“That’s not naked, sweetheart.”

You glared at him as he released you, making a point to slowly hook your thumbs in the waist of them and inch by torturous inch, crept them down your hips.

“Jesus Christ,” he huffed impatiently, even though he was still smiling.

A furious look flashed in his eyes when you pulled them back up to their rightful place, challenging what he would do, and you gasped in equal shock and fear when he grabbed onto your thong and tore them roughly down your thighs.

He crashed against your lips, kissing you with a demand that reminded you that he wasn’t playing games, your body flinching when his fingers trailed along your hip and to your soaked pussy.

Spreading your legs further apart, you moaned into his mouth, rocking on his hand as he drove two fingers inside you, hooking them to massage your g-spot.

Within minutes he had you on the edge, fucking you with his fingers until you were a whimpering mess ready to completely fall apart, but he stopped his movements and withdrew his hand from you, smirking at you with a smugness that managed to turn you on even more.

“Fuck, Jax,” you hissed, your breathing sharp as an untamed feeling ran through your veins.

“Hang on, darlin’” he drawled, his tone all-too happy considering what he just did to you.

He took off his hat and then tore his shirts off his torso, leaving him in his boxers that did nothing to disguise how large and hard he was, and had he not tugged them off himself, you were seconds away from doing it for him, your need for him increasing to the highest point when his cock sprang free.

“Put the hat back on,” you requested, your voice so lusty it was almost unrecognizable.

You squirmed in place, seeing the surprise in his features as he did as you asked and placed it back over his messy, blond tresses that crept out wildly from under it, his expression turned cocky in knowing how horny you were.

A half-satisfied smile pulled at your lips when he stood up against you, wrapping his arms behind your back where his hands carded up and down, returning your smile.

You leaned back slightly, reaching up to grip the bill of it to spin it around, facing it backwards just as he had worn it earlier.

“Happy now?” he chuckled.

You nodded, “Mhm. Are you?”

“Fuck, no!” he admitted jokingly through another laugh, reaching over for his kutte that he hadn’t for a second forgotten about you wearing earlier.

Guiding each of your arms through it, he brought it up to rest on your shoulders, holding onto the edges of its opening as his thumbs moved to rub your nipples until they hardened, making you shiver while a breathy whine passed your lips.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his mouth so close to you that his lips grazed your parted ones when he spoke.

You let your eyes close, waiting for him to give you the pleasure he was never selfish with, holding your breath until you felt his lips press onto your neck and down over your chest, his hands falling to your waist and then your hip, smoothing over the curve of your bum where he squeezed your flesh and gave it a playful slap.

Your giggle was swallowed when he kissed you, and you felt his own laugh shake through his chest when you brought your hands up to it, sliding them up to cradle his neck and let your fingers dance where his hair brushed along his bare shoulders.

In a swift motion that caught you off-guard, Jax lifted you into his arms, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist where he backed you up against the wall, thudding against the drywall as he pressed his body hard into yours.

Your nails raked across his shoulders and upper back, roaming to tangle in his hair that wasn’t trapped beneath his hat, and when he lined his cock up to your spread pussy and guided himself inside, you pulled at the strands that were woven between your fingers, his reaction to both sensations reverberating in your mouth.

Jax unleashed all his power on you, holding you up while slamming into you aggressively, the photos that hung on your wall rattling and banging with his barbaric movements.

Doing the best you could to move with him, you humped up and down in an effort to rub your clit on the coarse, wheat coloured pubes above his cock, feeling your climax begin to build again where it had been left teetering on the edge.

You caught Jax staring at your exposed tits, his vest having opened to put them fully on display where they bounced to the enthusiasm of his thrusts and your erratic rocking, his pupils blown out wide with lust.

“You look so fucking good, baby,” he growled, taking one last look at the erotic scene before meeting his mouth with yours, his kiss sloppy and rough.

A sweat started to break out on both of your bodies, your skin able to slip and glide on his easier with the harder you worked, the hair at the base of his neck damp when you moved your fingers along it.

Jax was always completely enamoured when he fucked you, but for some reason with you wearing his kutte today, he found himself in even more of a state, destroying you with reckless abandon to create the whimpering mess before him that he craved to see, the sounds he pulled from you the sweetest ones he'd ever heard. He was convinced it had something to do with the way his Vice President patch kept swaying beside your right breast as your chest shook in time to his ruthless pace, or the way the worn, faded, black leather and the white on all the labels that had turned dingey over time looked against your supple skin, and the thought of fucking you in it when it ranked him as President one day instead had him ready to explode.

The sense of pride he felt when it came to his club and displaying its logos was something he never took lightly, and seeing them on you intensified it even more, making it seem like no one else could wear them as well as you.

He became almost possessive, wanting to claim you and prove to you all the things he never vocalized all while knowing without hesitation that everything under that piece of leather was his and his only.

He kissed you roughly, not caring that the scruff on his face was turning your skin raw or that his teeth had knocked against yours more than once in his frenzy to get enough of you, feeling your pussy get wetter with every drive of his dick inside it.

“Fucking turn around!” he spat through gritted teeth, giving the order despite forcing you to do it anyway. He dropped your legs and had you spun around and planted against the wall in a matter of seconds, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck to guide you forward, pushing you down so you hinged at your waist and were bent over.

His other hand gripped at your ass to spread your cheeks apart, his cock finding your open cunt without needing any help, slamming into you so hard you had to brace yourself on the wall to stop your face from hitting it.

“God, I’m gonna - fuck! - I’m gonna cum, Jax!” you wailed, your ability to speak properly taken away when he reached around you and started rubbing your clit.

“Yeah?” he huffed, mesmerized in the sight of his glistening cock pumping in and out of you. “You gonna cream all over me, you fucking slut?”

The way he barked that name made you shiver, your mouth filling with saliva to a point you couldn't even contain it anymore, feeling it drool out as your jaw went slack and your climax billowed its way to the surface.

Exhilaration took over you, your moans and cries of approval of how hard Jax was fucking you making him increase his fervor, creating a domino effect of you growing louder and his own moans to sound out and intoxicate you further, the mix of everything so dizzying that it was impossible to imagine a better high.

Jax chuckled behind you, the sound maniacal and deliciously twisted. “That’s it, fuck…”

You let go, accepting the way his body threw you into a trembling orgasm, clenching hard around his cock as he proceeded to pound you mercilessly, hearing his grunts and growls increase in volume and consistency as he honed in on his own end.

He couldn’t look away, watching your combined milky spend leak out of you as he continued to fuck you, your ass cheeks shaking along to his irregular thrusts, the Reaper patch spread out across your back as you took every blow he gave you a sight he would never tire of.

His hand was soaked when he removed it from between your legs, bringing his fingers to his mouth where he sucked them clean, keeping his dick buried inside you until he couldn't anymore.

You closed your eyes as you worked at steadying your breath, your fingers continuing to grip the wall even as you slowly began to straighten your body, feeling full and close to him despite him having slipped from you.

Sweaty handprints temporarily stained the paint when you opened your heavy lids again, smiling at the tingling afterglow that filled your veins, that smile growing bigger when you felt Jax press his lips to your dewy neck where he kissed your sensitive skin with gratitude. You were spun around again, gentler this time, his sweet smile matching yours as he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, your hands wrapping around his damp back to help support you as you stood on unreliable legs.

He was heavenly in his post-fuck glow, small beads of sweat dancing just below the edge of his hat, his skin tinged with a pinkish blush from his efforts, his pulse hammering in his neck. His lips looked more inviting than usual, plump and moist, and when his tongue licked across them before dipping to capture yours, you swore your own pulse ceased in its duties.

The way he looked at you when he pulled away after kissing you slowly was curious, a softness and devotion reflecting in his cerulean blues that made your heart beat faster after having just managed to regulate it.

“You look like you've got something to say, Jax,” you breathed, wondering if there would ever be a day that he would say what he felt.

He shrugged, his thumbs stroking your heated face as he tilted his head, looking between your bodies at yours clad in nothing but his kutte, seeing his cum dripping down your thigh.

“I think I'll be leaving this here more often.”

You both laughed as he kissed you again, shuffling forward to push you against the wall where he was able to press his lips to yours as much as he wanted to.

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#jax teller #jax teller smut #jax teller x female reader #jax teller x reader #charlie hunnam #sons of anarchy #jax teller fic #sons of anarchy fic #charlie hunnam characters #samcro

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tinyshyteacup · 4 months ago

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❤️‍🔥 🥰 🖤

S M U T F L U F F A N G S T

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Please read and heed the warnings. Some content will become 18+ warnings posted on each individual chapter of story, suggestive content marked on individual chapters.

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• Sons of Anarchy •

Chibs 'Filip' Telford

• Scotch & Screams •

S T O R Y M A S T E R L I S T

🖤 🥰

Clinging desperately to the back of a speeding Ducati, your screams should have been lost in the chaos of Charming.

Chibs Telford can't explain the pull he feels toward you and he finds himself breaking his own rules to discover who you are and why fate seems determined to intertwine your paths.

As the complicated world of SAMCRO threatens to engulf you, one question remains will you run from or straight toward the Scottish biker ?

Whiskey & Wee Things

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 🥰

Part 7

Juan Carlos 'Juice' Ortiz

A Charming Detour

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7 🥰

Part 8 🥰

Part 9 🖤

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12 🖤

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20 🖤🥰

Part 21

Part 22 🥰

Part 23

Part 24 🥰❤️‍🔥

Part 25

Part 26 🥰❤️‍🔥 18+

Part 27

Part 28 🖤 *Tw: canon level racism*

Part 29

Part 30 🖤

Part 31 🖤

Part 32 🖤

Part 33 🥰

This Charming Life - Coming Soon 🥰

Part 1

Happy Lowman

Sugar, Spice & a Little Bit of Vice

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7 🖤

Part 8 🥰

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• Mayans MC •

Johnny 'Coco' Cruz

Spare Parts

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4 🖤

Part 5

Part 6 🖤

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10 🖤 *TW: S work & implied SA threats*

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13 🖤 *TW: panic attack*

Part 14 🖤

Part 15

Part 16 🖤 *TW: SA (offpage, not described)*

Angel Reyes

Novel Attraction

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

SAMCRO vs Sunscreen

Love in Lockdown ❤️‍🔥 18+

No, no needles 🖤

I fuckin' dare you ❤️‍🔥 18+

Gun Cleaning ❤️‍🔥 18+

Thinkin' 🖤

Nightfall ❤️‍🔥

Clear Passages

Fight Good 🖤

The Biggest Crush 🥰

I'm fine Scotsman 🥰

Who Ye Are, Love 🥰

Need you girl ❤️‍🔥 18+

Husband, President

Bakery Girl's - Happy Bars RECIPE

Masterlist ||

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puffins-muffins · 9 months ago

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Control - The Beginning

Pairing: Jax Teller x Female!Reader Word Count: 7,300 Summary: You return to your hometown as a successful defense attorney to represent SAMCRO President Jax Teller, the former love of your life, in a murder trial. Years after your painful breakup, unresolved feelings resurface, and the lines between your professional duty and personal desires blur. Warnings: 18+ only please, cursing, cheating, mentions of parental death. A/N: So, this is my first Jax/SOA AU-ish fic. This establishes Jax & Reader's beginnings as teens/young adults. Feedback is so greatly appreciated! Beta'd by just myself, all mistakes are my own. I am also new to posting like this so apologies now if I've missed anything. We'll learn as we go. Please be kind.

Jax Teller leaned against his bike in the Charming High School parking lot, his leather kutte draped over his broad shoulders. With a lean, muscular build, he exuded an aura of danger on two wheels. His sandy blonde hair was a tousled mess, falling just below his ears and framing his face in a way that highlighted his rebellious charm. One flash of his boyish, crooked grin sent girls swooning, but when you walked past, you didn’t even glance his way.

Curiosity piqued, Jax straightened up. “Hey,” he called, his voice smooth yet laced with cocky confidence. “You too good to say hi?”

You turned your head slightly, raising an eyebrow at him. “What?”

“I’m Jax Teller.” He starts. “You’re Jimmy’s daughter, aren’t you?” his eyes narrowing slightly as recognition dawned. “I saw you at the clubhouse a few weeks ago when your old man patched into our charter.”

You shrugged, barely reacting. “Yeah, that’s me. So what?”

Jax smirked, intrigued by how unimpressed you seemed. “Just surprised I haven’t seen you around more,” he said, stepping a little closer. “You’re not into the whole MC thing?”

You quickly glanced him up and down, a playful glint in your eye. “Not really my scene.”

Jax tilted his head, genuinely interested. “That why you won’t give me the time of day, huh?”

You shrugged again, a smirk creeping onto your lips. “Maybe you’re just not as charming as you think you are.”

His grin widened. Most girls would’ve melted under his attention, but you? You gave as good as you got. He liked that. “You might be right, but that’s not going to stop me from trying, darlin’,” he replied, adding a flirtatious wink. “Can I take you somewhere?” he asked, gesturing toward his bike.

You scoffed, glancing down at his bike and then back at him, your tone teasing. “With you? On that? No thanks. I only ride with my dad.”

“Alright, Pep, another time then,” he said, his tone light and flirtatious, making you bite back a smile.

“Pep?” you asked, confusion furrowing your brow.

“Pepper,” he explained, grinning widely. “You’re kind of spicy, and I like that. I think that nickname suits you.”

After rejecting his ride, he hopped on his bike, strapping on his helmet, ready to leave. “We’ll see how long it takes before you’re begging me to give you a ride.” he said, his voice dripping with innuendo.

You flashed him a smirk, determination in your eyes. Cool, calm exterior. “Oh, don’t hold your breath, Teller.”

But inside, a rush of conflicting emotions surged through you. His words caused your stomach to flip. The easy banter was just a front; beneath it lay the undeniable pull between you, and you felt it tugging at your heart. As you watched him take off, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d be craving that ride sooner than you’d like to admit.

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

After that first encounter, it was like a slow, steady burn between you and Jax. At first, you made it a point to keep your distance, though it was impossible to ignore the magnetism between you. He’d always find an excuse to talk to you in the halls, leaning against lockers like he owned the damn place. You’d roll your eyes, give him sass, but there was always that spark — the kind that lit up the air around you both.

Then came the day he convinced you to ride with him. He pulled up to your house one Saturday afternoon, engine rumbling beneath him, and shot you that devil-may-care grin. “C’mon, Pep. You’ve been avoiding this long enough.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, one hand on your hip. “I told you, I don’t do rides, Teller.”

But there was a challenge in your voice, and Jax heard it loud and clear. He just revved the engine, making it purr, his gaze never leaving yours. God, he was cute. “One ride with me. You don’t like it; I’ll never ask again. Please.”

You didn’t respond right away, but the way your heart thumped in your chest betrayed you. Something about Jax made you want to push your own limits, and this was no different. Relenting, you grabbed the helmet he offered and swung your leg over the bike behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist. His body was warm and solid beneath your hands, and you could feel his heartbeat through his leather.

The bike roared to life, and before you knew it, you were speeding down the back roads outside town. Wind whipped through your hair, the world a blur of color as the adrenaline pumped through your veins. Every time Jax took a sharp turn, your grip on him tightened, but soon you weren’t holding on out of fear, you were holding on because you didn’t want to let go. The rumble of the engine, the feel of the wind, the pure freedom - it was intoxicating. And the way Jax handled the bike, confident and effortless, only added to the rush.

He’d glance back at you every now and then, smirking when he saw you weren’t just holding on anymore; you were leaning into it, craving more of that wild thrill. And with every ride, it became more than just adrenaline. It was the way he made you feel when you were with him, completely invincible, like nothing in the world could touch you.

The weeks turned into months, and a montage of memories built up between you two. Sneaking out at night, the hum of his bike your only soundtrack as you wrapped yourself around him, laughing into the wind. Bonfires by the old quarry, where he’d pull you close with that cocky grin, his touch always gentle with you. Late-night rides to nowhere, where you’d hold him a little tighter, whispering sarcastic comebacks into his ear even as your heart betrayed you, racing faster with every mile.

Then there were those unexpected moments, the quiet ones that caught you off guard. Like when you found yourselves perched on the roof of Teller-Morrow, cocooned in your own little world. In those instances, a different side of Jax emerged—one that was introspective and thoughtful. He would often pull out a notebook, jotting down his thoughts and feelings, exposing a vulnerability that stood in stark contrast to his tough exterior. As he lit a cigarette, you would lean into him, savoring the warmth radiating from his body. You’d tease him playfully, the banter punctuated by that same smile tugging at the corners of your lips. And when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, your gaze would linger on him just a little too long.

It wasn’t long before you realized something had shifted. The thrill of the ride was more than just the speed and adrenaline. It was the way Jax’s hand would find yours when you weren’t paying attention, the way he’d look at you like you were the only thing that mattered. It was the sound of his laughter, the way his eyes softened when he saw you, the fire and sass he loved to tease but never tried to tame.

One night, after a long ride along the coast, the two of you sat by the edge of the cliff, the ocean crashing beneath you. Jax was beside you, leaning back on his hands, his gaze fixed on the horizon. “You know,” he said after a long stretch of silence, his voice low, “I didn’t think you’d ever actually give in.”

You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Give in to what?”

He grinned, that playful glint in his eyes. “To this. To riding with me. To… us.”

For a moment, you just looked at him, the sunset painting his features in warm, golden light. You couldn’t deny it anymore. The exhilaration wasn’t just from the rides, it was from him.

“I guess you’re not the worst company,” you admitted, rolling your eyes even as you leaned into him, your head resting against his shoulder.

He chuckled softly, his arm slipping around your waist, pulling you closer. “Yeah, well, you’re my Pep. No one else like you.”

And that’s when you knew you had fallen, not just for the rides, but for the boy who had made you feel alive in ways you hadn’t expected. The boy who saw through your sarcasm, who called you Pepper because he liked your fire, and who made your heart race faster than any ride ever could.

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

Senior year was a whirlwind. While you were focused on your classes and keeping up with your honor roll status, Jax was slipping further away from school. He barely showed up anymore, spending most of his time at the garage or with the club. There were days when you’d catch glimpses of him, riding in with Opie, that familiar roar of their bikes, the MC patch on his back more of a constant presence than his textbooks.

You had always known Jax was different, more interested in bikes and the MC life than anything school had to offer. But now, it felt like he was already halfway out the door while you were still trying to figure out where the future would take you.

The contrast between the two of you was glaring. You were getting acceptance letters from universities across the country, each one congratulating you on your achievements. It felt surreal, but there was this gnawing ache every time you thought about leaving Charming — leaving him. You had spent the last couple of years with Jax as your constant. The idea of being somewhere without him felt like cutting away a part of yourself.

One afternoon, you met Jax at the garage after school, where he was elbow-deep in the engine of a Harley. He looked up when he heard you approach, wiping his hands on a rag, that familiar grin stretching across his face. “Hey, Pep,” he called, dropping the rag and walking toward you, pulling you in for a quick kiss. “How was your day? Ace another test?”

You rolled your eyes with a smile, nudging him playfully. “Actually, yeah. I got into Berkeley.”

Jax’s face lit up with pride. “Damn, look at you. That’s huge, babe.” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, squeezing you affectionately.

You leaned into him, inhaling the familiar mix of leather, grease, and smoke. “Yeah… but it’s kinda far, Jax. And I don’t know if I want to go that far. I was thinking maybe San Fran or even Fresno. Somewhere closer.”

Jax looked at you, brow furrowing a bit as he leaned against the workbench. “You’re gonna throw away Berkeley for Charming? Why?”

You shifted, feeling the weight of your answer before you even said it. “Because of you,” you admitted, voice soft but steady. “I don’t want to be miles away from you, from everything I know, my dad. I want to study law, stay close, and—”

He cut you off with a kiss, pulling you closer, his hand resting at the back of your neck. When he pulled away, his eyes were soft but conflicted. “You’re too good for this place. You’ve got this big, bright future ahead of you, and I don’t want to be a reason you hold yourself back.”

You searched his face, trying to understand where this was coming from. “You’re not holding me back, Jax. I want to be near you. Law school, everything — I can do that here.”

He let out a long breath, running a hand through his long hair. “I don’t have a plan. Shit, I’m barely gonna graduate. I’ll probably work at the garage, help with the club… I don’t know where I’ll end up, but it’s not gonna be college, that’s for sure.”

You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “I don’t care about that. I care about you. You don’t have to have some perfect plan. We’ve got time to figure things out.”

Jax smiled softly, but there was something behind it, a flicker of doubt, maybe even fear. He pulled you close, resting his forehead against yours. “You deserve more than just ‘figuring it out.’ You deserve everything. And I don’t know if I can give you that.”

You held his face in your hands, making him look at you. “You’ve always been enough for me, Jax. Always. I’m not going anywhere unless you tell me to.”

Jax only kissed you, this time slower, deeper, like he was holding on to something he was afraid to lose. When he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his voice barely a whisper. “I could never tell you to go. I just… I don’t want to hold you back.”

You kissed him back softly, the noise of the garage fading into the background. “You won’t,” you promised.

But even as you said it, there was a part of you that knew things would never be that simple, not with the club, not with the way Jax was already tied to a world that didn’t leave room for easy choices. Still, in that moment, with his arms wrapped around you and the world at your feet, you believed that somehow, you could make it work.

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

Two years into undergrad and everything felt different. The late-night rides and stolen moments that used to bring you and Jax together now seemed like distant memories. You were buried in textbooks and case studies, drowning in deadlines and long hours at your internship. The law classes were brutal and balancing your workload with everything else left you running on fumes. You’d chosen a college about an hour outside of Charming, far enough to give you space but close enough to keep Jax in your life.

But even with that proximity, things were… different. The once easy connection between you and Jax felt strained, pulled thin under the weight of time, distance, and the lives you were both living now.

You were sitting at a small table in a coffee shop near your campus, your laptop open and legal notes scattered everywhere. Your phone buzzed, a text from Jax lighting up the screen. Hey, been trying to call. Busy?

You stared at the message for a moment, guilt swirling in your chest. You had seen the missed calls earlier, but your study group had gone long, and then there was work. You typed out a quick reply: Yeah, sorry. Studying. You okay?

His response came fast. Yeah, just haven’t seen you in a while. Miss you.

That simple sentence hit harder than you expected. You missed him too, desperately. Lately, it felt like missing him was all you did. You weren’t the same girl who had spent nights riding on the back of his bike, laughing into the wind. Now, you were someone constantly pulled in a dozen directions, and Jax was being swallowed up by the club. He was taking on more responsibilities with the Sons, more rides, more late nights. And you knew what came with that lifestyle - the danger, the temptations. You’d heard about other women. Nothing concrete, but the rumors alone were enough to keep you awake at night.

You texted back, I miss you too. Maybe I can come by tomorrow?

Yeah. I’ll be at the clubhouse. Be good to see you.

The next day, you drove back to Charming, your stomach knotted with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. You parked outside the clubhouse, a place that used to feel like a second home, but now felt distant — like you didn’t quite belong in Jax’s world anymore. You walked inside and immediately saw him at the bar, his back turned as he talked with Opie.

“Hey,” you called, and he turned, that familiar smile lighting up his face as he saw you.

“Hey yourself!” he said, walking over to wrap his arms around you, a tender kiss placed on your lips. The feel of him, solid and warm, instantly melted some of the tension inside you. For a moment, it felt like everything could be okay, like you were still those two kids who fell in love years ago. But as soon as he pulled away, reality slipped back in.

He led you back to his clubhouse room. Both of you sitting on the bed, his hand resting on your leg as if to anchor you both. You made small talk, catching up on each other’s lives, but the conversation felt stilted. There were gaps now, things unsaid between you, like the life he was leading in the club, the hours he spent with them, and the stories you heard but never wanted to ask about.

“School’s killing me,” you admitted. “I barely have time to breathe, let alone come back here. It’s just... a lot.”

Jax nodded, but you could see the distance in his eyes, the frustration he was trying to mask. “Yeah, you’ve been busy. I get it.”

You sighed, looking into his eyes. “Do you? Because it feels like… I don’t know, like we’re both living these separate lives. When’s the last time we spent more than an hour together?” There was always this heightened tension between you two now.

Jax’s jaw clenched, and he leaned back, rubbing a hand over his face. “I know, I know. But it’s not just you. I’ve got a lot going on too, with the garage, the club and everything…” he trails off.

“And what does ‘everything’ include?” you asked, your voice quieter, a trace of the hurt you’d been holding back slipping through.

He looked at you for a long moment, eyes shadowed with a mix of guilt and defensiveness. “What are you asking?”

You hesitated. This was the conversation you’d both been avoiding, but you couldn’t pretend anymore. “I’m asking if there’s someone else, Jax. I’m asking if the club has taken more than just your time.”

His expression hardened, but there was a flicker of something else beneath it - regret, maybe. “There’s no one else, Pep. Don’t be ridiculous.” He snapped. “But this life… it’s not easy. And you’re not here as much. I’m not saying that’s your fault, but it’s how it is.”

You nodded, blinking back the sting in your eyes. “Yeah, I get it. You’re right. We’re both busy, and it’s hard. But we’re growing apart, Jax. And I don’t know how to fix that.”

He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “I don’t want to lose you. But I don’t know how to fix it either.”

There it was — the raw truth neither of you had said out loud until now. You still loved each other, deeply, but it was like trying to hold on to something that kept slipping through your fingers. The connection that had once felt so unbreakable was fraying at the edges, and neither of you knew if you could tie it back together.

You leaned into him, resting your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around you like it always had. For now, in this moment, you could pretend that everything was okay. But deep down, you both knew that things had changed.

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

Another year had passed, and your relationship with Jax was hanging by a thread. Between the LSAT’s, your paralegal job, law school applications, you were constantly thinking about the future. A part of you still wanted that future to include Jax, despite all the cracks.

The tension between you two had been building for months. He’d invited you to a big MC party, but things between you were so fragile that you weren’t sure if going was the best thing. The law firm you worked for was in the middle of a huge case and you didn’t think you would be able to get away from the piles of research you had in front of you. Just as you were grappling with whether to go, your phone buzzed, Jax’s name lighting up across your screen.

Hey Pep, you coming to see me, or what? ;)

The pull between duty and heartache twisted in your chest. The case you were working on was critical, your future in law depended on it, and yet, a part of you longed to see him, to feel connected again. But you couldn’t ignore the creeping sense that you no longer fit in his world. The MC lifestyle felt more alien with every passing day.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. I’m slammed with work right now… not sure if I can make it.

The moment the message left your screen, a wave of anxiety hit you. Would he be disappointed? Relieved? Part of you wanted him to push back, to make you feel like you still mattered enough for him to want you there.

A few seconds passed, then your phone buzzed again. His response appeared almost immediately, as if he had been waiting for your message just as eagerly.

You’re always slammed with work. But this is important to me. Come on, it’s just one night. I miss you.

Your heart clenched. He was good at that, making you feel guilty for choosing anything that wasn’t him or the MC. You read the message repeatedly, feeling the weight of his words.

"I miss you."

It was what you wanted to hear, but at the same time, it left you more torn than before. School, the case, it all seemed so distant now. Your mind flickered back to the last time you'd seen him, the strained goodbye, the unsaid things between you two. Maybe one night wouldn't change anything, but what if it did?

The screen dimmed as your phone idled, but you couldn't take your eyes off the words, wondering if you could keep walking this fine line between your past and your future.

You typed out ‘I'll try’ and stared at it for a long moment, your thumb hovering over the send button. It felt like a compromise, a way to keep one foot in each world without fully committing to either. But as you sent it, a pit formed in your stomach. You knew deep down that it wasn’t just about this one night—it was about all the nights before and all the ones that could come after.

Your phone buzzed again almost immediately.

That's my girl. I’ll be waiting for you.

His words sent a familiar warmth through you, but there was something bittersweet about it too. His girl. You weren’t sure if you even belonged to him anymore. Jax had a way of making you feel like nothing had changed, like the years apart hadn’t put a canyon between who you were and who you’d both become.

You sighed, glancing at the stack of case files on your desk. The logical part of you said you should stay, focus on the case. But another part, the one that still longed for the way things used to be, pulled you towards him. Like always.

You decided to work for another hour, hoping the mountain of research would drown out the thoughts of Jax and then head to the party. But time slipped away from you and when you finally glanced at the clock, a surge of panic shot through you. You were hours behind. Cursing under your breath, you threw everything into your bag and bolted out of your dorm.

The drive to Charming was long and familiar, each mile pulling you back to a life you’d tried so hard to leave behind. You hadn’t heard from him; you knew you were hours later than you planned, and he probably thought you weren’t coming. You decided to surprise him at this point, to see his face when you showed up after all. Maybe you could feel like you still belonged in his world, even if only for one night.

The roar of motorcycles echoed faintly in the distance, a sound you knew all too well. You parked a little way down from the clubhouse, your heart hammering in your chest as you walked toward the sounds of the party.

The parking lot was crowded with bikes, the familiar smell of leather and gasoline hitting you as you approached the entrance. The music was loud, people spilled out from the doors, laughing and drinking. You weaved through them, feeling the weight of old eyes on you, some curious, others familiar.

As you stepped inside, the chaos of the party washed over you. It was everything you remembered - loud, wild, and unapologetically SAMCRO. You scanned the room, looking for him, the anticipation of seeing him again made your heart race.

As you navigated through the crowded room, the air thick with smoke, alcohol, and the unmistakable roar of laughter and loud voices, you couldn't help but notice the women, Crow-eaters as they were not so affectionately referred as, draped over several members. They were scantily clad, their bodies pressed close to the bikers, and you felt the sharp sting of being out of place. Their boldness, their ease in this world, it was a stark contrast to the careful, controlled way you lived your life now.

You tugged at the hem of your jacket, suddenly hyper-aware of the more conservative clothes you wore and the way you didn’t fit in. You were polished, buttoned-up, and in a crowd like this, it made you feel like an outsider. The club girls knew their place, their roles in the MC hierarchy clear, but you used to think you belonged here. Now it felt foreign, like you were intruding on a life that had moved on without you. You weren’t one of them, and as much as you tried to pretend this night was about reconnecting with Jax, the reality was painfully obvious. This just wasn’t your world.

When you finally spotted him, it wasn’t the reunion you imagined. There he was, in the corner, alone with another girl, a girl too close for comfort. She was laughing, her hand on his chest, and his expression wasn’t one of protest.

Your stomach dropped. You’d heard rumors swirling around for a while, whispers you hadn’t wanted to believe, but this? This was undeniable.

You stormed over, heart pounding. “What the hell, Jax?”

He looked up, startled and shocked, and you saw the guilt flash across his face. The girl backed off immediately, sensing the tension, but it was too late. The damage was done.

“Pep, wait—” he started, but you weren’t having it.

“Wait for what? For you to finish whatever this is?” You could hear the anger and hurt in your voice, and it took everything not to lose it right there in front of everyone.

Jax stood, frustration mixing with his own guilt. “Shit, Babe - It’s not what it looks like. She’s no one, I swear—”

“Then why was she all over you?” You could feel your hands trembling, the betrayal sharp in your chest. “Do you even care anymore, Jax? Or am I just holding on to something that doesn’t exist?”

He stepped closer, grabbing your arm gently. “Of course I care. Pep, you know I love you and I’m not screwing around.”

You wanted to believe him, but that image of him with her was now burned into your mind. Still, as you stared into his eyes, the same eyes that had looked at you with love for years, you found yourself softening. Maybe it was out of habit, maybe it was out of hope, but you nodded, letting out a shaky breath, not wanting to do this with an audience. “Jax, this can’t happen again.”

He nodded quickly, pulling you into his arms. “I know. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I swear.”

After the confrontation, he had come to you, apologizing, trying to explain away the situation as a misunderstanding, a mistake. And in that moment, you wanted so badly to believe him, to let the history between you two be enough to erase the pain of what you’d seen.

You stayed and he held you close that night, whispering promises that felt hollow. His arms around you were familiar, but they no longer felt like home. You could feel the space between you two, even as he lay beside you, his breath steady as he fell asleep.

You stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. Everything about this night, this life was a far cry from what you had imagined your future would look like. It didn’t matter how many times he apologized or promised to change. Something between you had shifted, and no amount of love was going to fix it. You knew deep down, as you lay there in the dark, that this had to be the end.

It wasn’t just about the girl he flirted with or the way he had laughed with her like you didn’t exist. It was about the path you were on, the future you were fighting for. It was about who Jax had become and who you had grown into. Jax had chosen this life, and in exchange, never fully choosing you. The club would always come first, and that realization cut deeper than anything else.

Your heart felt heavy as you got dressed quietly, careful not to wake him. The thought of leaving without saying goodbye tore at you, but you knew this had to be done. You had to walk away before the weight of staying crushed you.

You leaned down, placing a soft kiss on his lips, your hand resting on the side of his face, memorizing the feel of him one last time. His lips moved slightly under yours, and for a moment, you thought he might wake, but he didn’t. Part of you was relieved, saying goodbye right now would have been too hard.

Standing over him, you took a deep breath, knowing this might be the last time you’d ever see him like this, your Jax - peaceful, vulnerable. Your eyes lingered on him before you turned and walked out of the room, your heart breaking with every step.

The drive out of Charming felt endless, every mile putting more distance between you and the life you once knew. It gutted you to leave him behind, but deep down, you knew it was the only way to save yourself. You had outgrown this world, and it was time to let go of the one person you thought you’d never lose. As you merged onto the highway, the sun barely beginning to rise, you wiped away the tears that had silently fallen. This was the end, and even though it hurt like hell, you knew it was the right choice.

It had been a few weeks since that night and the heaviness in your heart had only deepened. You spent countless hours wrestling with the decision to end things with Jax. The memories of laughter and love felt like distant echoes, overshadowed by the harsh reality of your lives drifting apart. Tonight, you’d finally decided you were going to have the talk - the one that would sever the last ties binding you to him.

As you gathered your things, the clutter of books and notes on your desk only reminded you of the life you were trying to build apart from him. The stack of law books felt like a barrier, protecting you from the emotional storm you knew was about to hit. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the words you would say.

Just as you were about to walk out, a firm knock echoed through your small dorm. You paused, quizzical. You weren’t expecting anyone, and a twinge of anxiety twisted in your stomach.

“Hey,” came the gruff voice from the other side, and your heart dropped. It was Jax.

You opened the door, and your breath caught in your throat at the sight of him. He looked pale, his normally vibrant eyes clouded with something heavy. His usual confident demeanor was replaced by an unsettling vulnerability, and it sent a jolt of panic through you.

“Jax? What’s wrong?”

He stepped inside, his presence both comforting and terrifying. “I—” His voice cracked, and he took a moment, visibly struggling to find the right words. “It’s your dad. He… he’s gone.”

The world around you seemed to tilt on its axis. “What do you mean, gone?” you stammered, heart racing. “What happened?”

His gaze dropped, and he rubbed the back of his neck, a gesture that made your stomach churn. “There was a deal that went south. He got caught in the crossfire. They got him to the hospital, but it was too late.”

Shock flooded your body, a cold wave that left you feeling numb. “No. No, this can’t be happening.” You stumbled back, your vision blurring as tears threatened to spill over. Your father had always been your rock, the steady hand guiding you through life, it had always been just the two of you. “What do you mean caught in the crossfire? He was just… he was fine. I just saw him!”

Jax stepped closer, his expression pained, his own tears threatening to spill over. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept the reality he was laying before you. “You don’t understand. This is… I can’t… I don’t even know how to process this.” The words tumbled out, a desperate plea for understanding that fell flat.

He reached for your arm; his grip firm yet gentle. “Please, let me help you. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

The warmth of his touch ignited a swirl of conflicting emotions within you. He was the last person you wanted to turn to, yet in that moment, the desperation for comfort overpowered everything else. You felt so fragile, and the thought of facing this tragedy without him was daunting.

He cupped your face and in that moment, it was like the ground dropped out from under you. The room spun, and suddenly, everything—the fight, the tension, even your plans to leave Jax, seemed insignificant. Your dad was dead, and the club, the same club that had taken so much from you with Jax, had taken him too.

You collapsed into Jax’s arms, your tears soaking his shirt as you clung to him. And just like that, all your plans shattered. You weren’t thinking about law school anymore. You weren’t even thinking about breaking up with him. All you could think about was the fact that your dad was gone, and Jax was the only one who could understand the weight of that loss.

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

You and Jax made it through your father’s funeral, now bound together by grief, but even in the depths of your sorrow, it was a fragile connection. He had become your lifeline, holding you close as you navigated the crushing waves of loss. The club surrounded you, providing support in ways you hadn’t expected, ensuring that you wanted for nothing as you buried yourself in your studies during your last year of undergrad. You moved through life on autopilot, the world around you fading into a blur as you focused on school, pretending that everything would somehow work itself out.

As the months passed, acceptance letters from several schools filled your mailbox, a testament to your hard work and determination. But the joy of those accomplishments felt overshadowed by the grief that still clung to you like a heavy fog. Each letter was a reminder of a future you were hesitant to embrace. You were torn, unsure of where to go. Part of you wanted to stay close to Jax, to the familiarity of Charming, while another part yearned for a fresh start, a chance to break free from everything that haunted you.

But while you clung to Jax for comfort, the distance between you was palpable. You knew he was there, physically present, yet your relationship had become stagnant, a shell of what it once was. Jax provided a familiar solace, but it wasn’t enough to bridge the gap that had formed. The love that had once burned brightly now flickered like a candle, struggling against the grief that surrounded you both.

Everything came to a head one night at the clubhouse. As you paused outside Jax’s door, your hand froze on the doorknob, heart racing at the faint sound of laughter inside - his laughter. But he wasn’t alone. With a deep breath, you pushed the door open, and everything seemed to freeze around you.

There he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt half unbuttoned, lips locked with some woman you didn’t recognize. Her laughter mixed with his, a sound that shattered your world once again. Time felt suspended as the reality of the moment set in.

“Jax!” The sound of your voice echoed painfully in the room, causing their laughter to halt abruptly. His eyes widened in shock, but they quickly filled with shame as he processed your presence. The woman beside him blinked, confusion dancing in her eyes, but you ignored her, shaking with betrayal as you stared at him. You didn’t even recognize him anymore.

“Shit! Pep, I—” he started, his voice thick with regret, but the words evaporated in the tension that filled the room.

Anger boiled within you, raw and relentless, as you stepped forward, heart racing. “You said you loved me! You promised you’d do better!”

He shifted uncomfortably, guilt etching deeper lines on his face. He couldn’t meet your gaze, knowing he had fucked up royally. The realization of what he had done hung heavily in the air, a small part of him recognizing that he had sabotaged your relationship out of fear. Fear of feeling stifled, of the stagnant love that no longer felt like home to him either.

When he reached out to touch you, desperation tinged with shame, you yelled. “Don’t! Don’t fucking touch me!” The slap was swift, fueled by raw emotion, landing with a force that surprised even you. The sound echoed in the room, sharp and definitive, as Jax's head snapped to the side, his face flushed with the imprint of your anger. The room seemed to hold its breath, and everything inside you unraveled.

The warmth and safety Jax once provided had turned cold. You could see the regret in his eyes, but it wasn’t enough to undo this betrayal.

That’s when Opie appeared, his expression a mix of sadness and empathy. He stood silently, a protective barrier between you and the pain. Without saying a word, he placed a hand on your shoulder, grounding you as everything inside you threatened to collapse. Jax remained quiet, his shame on full display, knowing he had lost something precious but feeling powerless to reclaim it.

“I’ll take care of her,” Opie said quietly, his voice steady. He didn’t need to say more; Jax knew better than to push. The hurt in his eyes was evident, but it was too late for apologies.

“Pep, please,” Jax finally managed, his voice hoarse, but it lacked the strength of conviction. His eyes were desperate, but beneath that desperation lay a deep-rooted acknowledgment of his failures, the realization that he had successfully pushed you away.

“Stop,” you snapped, tears streaming down your cheeks, anger morphing into deep-seated sorrow.

He stood there, paralyzed, unable to find the words that could ever justify this.

Opie stepped forward, his presence a comforting weight, trying to navigate you out of the room. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”

You turned away from Jax, feeling the ache of loss settle in your chest like a stone. Only a silent farewell passing between you. It was done. You and Jax were over.

As Opie led you away, the weight of everything crashed down on you. You had lost your father, and now, Jax too – his love that once brought you to life felt distant, unreachable. The noise of the clubhouse disappeared into the background, leaving you in a world where the only constant was your grief, and you didn’t know how to move forward.

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

Leaving Charming felt like tearing a piece of your heart out. You had chosen the best law school you could, deliberately picking one as far away from California as possible. It was a decision that both terrified and relieved you. You needed to escape the memories, the grief, and, most of all, Jax.

As the day of your departure drew closer, the reality of it settled in, leaving you with an emptiness that clashed with your determination. You packed your things meticulously, each item a reminder of what you were leaving behind. But as much as you wanted to flee from your past, a part of you still ached for closure.

So, you agreed to meet Jax for a final goodbye, knowing it was something you both needed, even if it felt hollow. You chose a secluded spot in the park where you used to share lazy afternoons, a place where laughter once rang in the air. But today, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words and lingering sadness.

Jax was already there when you arrived, leaning against his bike, arms crossed, looking every bit the man you'd fallen for. His eyes locked on yours, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence felt thick, filled with all the things you couldn’t say anymore.

“So, this is it,” Jax finally said, his voice quieter than usual. There was no edge, no teasing, only rawness.

You nodded, unsure of how to respond without unraveling. “Yeah, it is.”

He looked down, running a hand through his hair, the same way he always did when he didn’t know what to say. “I get why you’re going. You need to do this.” Jax replied, his eyes searching yours for something - understanding, perhaps, or forgiveness. “It’s just… hard to believe you won’t be here.”

You swallowed, your heart tightening in your chest. All you could muster was a simple nod of understanding.

For a solitary moment, it was like time rewound, and you were back to being the two of you, before everything got complicated. Before the weight of the club, the violence, and the grief. It would have been so easy to fall into his arms, but you held yourself still, knowing that this moment wasn’t about holding on, it was about letting go.

Jax straightened, stepping closer, his blue eyes still searching yours. “I wanted this life for us, you know? A real future.” His voice broke, just slightly, and it hit you harder than you expected.

“I know,” you whispered, your own emotions threatening to spill over. “But that’s not where we’re headed anymore.”

He reached for your hand, his grip firm but tender, as if it was the last connection keeping you from drifting apart. “Just… promise me one thing.”

You looked at him, your throat tight with unshed tears. “What?”

“Don’t forget about me, alright? Even if I’m just a memory, don’t forget.”

The weight of his words settled deep inside you. You could promise that, but you weren’t sure how much of Jax would be left in you once you stepped onto that plane. Still, you nodded, because in that moment, it was the only thing you could give him.

“Goodbye, Jax.”

His jaw clenched, and he pulled you into a hug, strong and secure. The scent of leather, smoke, and something distinctly Jax, washed over you, making you dizzy with the realization that this was truly the end. And when he let go, you didn’t look back.

As you walked away, each step felt heavier than the last, there was no turning around. Not now. You had to let him go, even if part of you never would.

Part 2 - The Reunion

#jax teller #jax teller x reader #soa #sons of anarchy #samcro #charlie hunnam #jax teller fic

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f1samcro · 4 months ago

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He's Got A Thing For Doctor's

Masterlist

REQUESTS ARE OPEN

You pulled your face mask down, sitting on a bench, and ducking your head between your knees. There’d been a car accident. Two parent’s pronounced dead at the scene, and a little boy. Around Abel’s age. He was your case, as you were the head of trauma, and you’d spent five hours operating on him. As you were closing, he flatlined, and you couldn’t bring him back. “Time of death, 22:15 PM.”

It was incredibly rare that you found children in your E.R. in the state that little boy was. His name was Elliott. Elliott Hastings. A whole family was taken because someone was too cheap to get an Uber after drinking. Someone stopped in front of you, one look at the shoes and you sighed, “If you’re gonna start shit, don’t. I’m not in the mood, Tara.”

“What’s your problem? I just wanted to ask about J-”

“I don’t care! I’m not telling you anything about Jax! Jesus, Tara! I just lost a kid on my table, I don’t have the time for your bullshit! So ask me something professional or get lost!”

You look up, she pauses, blinking, before uttering, “I’m sorry,” and scurrying away.

You went through the motions, before clocking out and getting in your car. You take a deep breath, resting your head on the steering wheel. And then you straighten, turn the car on, and drive off.

Jax’s key was for emergencies. But still, you used it to unlock the door and slip inside the Teller household. You smiled weakly as Jax’s head swiveled towards the door from his spot on the couch. “Rough night?”

You nod wordlessly, clearing your throat, “Yeah.”

“Wanna talk ‘bout it, darlin’?”

“No.”

“Beer’s in the fridge, you know where the towels are.”

And he went quiet, looking back at the TV. It was common for you to end up at Jax’s after a rough day at work. It was wholly better than sitting alone at home and wallowing. At least you could wallow with someone. You open the fridge to locate a bottle, “Margaret’s backed off.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m not thanking you. You threatened one of my supervisors.”

You pull the cap of the beer off. “She backed off, didn’t she?”

You sigh, walking into the living room and sipping the beer, “You told her that, ‘if she keeps havin’ issues with your old lady, she is gonna get herself in trouble. I’m not even your old lady! ”

Jax took one look at you, “You know the rules, shower and get the hospital off you, ‘fore you sit on any of my shit.”

“Just ignore everything I said then,” a scowl makes its way onto your face, but you nod, and put the beer on the coffee table. You disappear down the hall, “I’m stealin’ your clothes!”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Except you didn’t come back for the beer. Jax gave it half an hour before he sighed, and finished it himself. He went to check on Thomas and Abel before going to bed himself. But he paused. You were curled up in Abel’s bed, holding onto the little boy like he was gonna disappear. “Sweetheart?”

You hum, “Hmm?”

“You can’t sleep in Abel’s bed. C’mon,” he steps into the bedroom, gently reaching out to pry you off his son. You squeeze the little boy tighter, but then let go and let Jax pull you up.

He pulls you to his bedroom, and lets you get under the covers before smoothing back your hair and waiting for you to talk. “Car accident,” you mumble half heartedly, “Kid flatlined on my table. Same age as Abel.”

Jax doesn’t say anything, but gets up and disappears into the hall. He returns seconds later, with a asleep Abel in his arms. You watch as the blonde tucks his son into the bed next to you. Your arms wrap around Abel quickly, “Better?”

You nod as Jax climbs into the bed himself, “Thank you.”

He grins at you, “What would Margaret say if she saw us now?”

You snort, burying your face in Abel’s hair. “Write me up. Oh, Tara came to talk to me today.”

“I figured.”

You look up, “Why?”

“She saw us gettin’ dinner with Abel the other night. Don’t think she’s buying the friend's excuse anymore.”

Abel murmurs in his sleep, shuffling closer to you, “Y’know you’ll have to find another doctor to stitch you up, now. Can’t treat you. Conflict of interest ‘n all.”

Jax turns to look at you, “Don’t think it’ll be that hard, darlin’, I had other people stitch me up while you were in school.” He leans down and kisses your forehead, “And like you said earlier, I told Margaret that you’re my old lady-”

“Could’ve gotten me in more trouble.”

“It didn’t. So take it and go to sleep,” he has a smirk on his face, tucking hair behind your ear. “I think you’ve been my old lady for a long time, we jus’ haven’t said anythin’.”

You open your mouth to protest, only for him to narrow his eyes, “I said sleep, so good night.”

A huff escapes your lips, but you close your eyes, snuggling closer to Abel. “Your mom’s gonna be happy.”

“Darlin’, Gem’s thought we’ve been together for months and refuse to admit it.”

“Seriously?”

“She thinks I’ve got a thing for doctors.”

You chuckle lightly, “I believe it.”

#jax teller x reader #jax teller imagine #jax teller #jax teller imagines #soa #samcro #sons of anarchy

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kuttesandknives · 3 months ago

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warning(s): SMUT. jax in a fractured emotional state, parental death mention. 18+ readers ONLY. words: 2.3k a/n: set smack dab in the middle of season two, so spoilers are within. truthfully, this is my first x reader fic, so go easy on me with the reviews. 🥺✨

The clubhouse still smelled like stale beer when Jax stormed out, jaw tight, rings and fingers stained with blood, knuckles raw. The fight with Clay wasn’t just another blow up over miscommunication. It’d been building for months now, ever since Donna. Jax had been extra volatile lately, more so since Tara left Charming again. He saw that coming, as much as it rested bitterly on his tongue and ached in his chest. It was almost worse the second time around.

“You wanna lead, son? Start actin’ like it. Stop hiding behind your dead daddy’s words.”

That was the last thing Clay said before Jax swung. Now, those words echoed at the forefront of his mind, incapacitating any other possible thought to come to the forefront.

By the time he showed up at your place, it was well past midnight. You recognized the distant growl of his bike pulling into the parking space outside your apartment's patio–surely Patty next door would complain to the landlord about that. Not that you gave a damn.

“Can I come in?” Jax asked, his voice low and hoarse.

You stepped aside to let him inside, the porch light highlighting the raw knuckles and split lip, but you didn’t ask. Not yet. And just like that, you became the one person he could run to when shit got too damn chaotic.

The door clicked softly behind him. He was quiet for the first thirty seconds, removing his kutte and putting it on the back of your dining chair. You watched him cross the room again, taking in the blood dotted along the front of his white shirt. He plopped down on the couch and leaned back, closing his eyes as his head was facing upward.

Silence stretched between you two again as you walked into the kitchen, clicked on the dim light above the stove, and grabbed the ice pack you kept in the freezer. Part of you hated how automatic it had become, tending to Jax’s wounds like this. But tonight felt different. The fight had dug deeper.

You returned into the living room, crouching in front of him as he leaned forward now with his forearms resting on his knees, pressing the ice pack against his jaw and giving him a soft smile of reassurance. He flinched slightly, not from the cold but from the touch, like he wasn’t used to something so domestic such as this.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” You finally asked, holding the ice pack firmly against his jaw.

He didn’t look at you. Just past your shoulder, like if he’d meet your eyes, the dam would break.

“Clay.” One word. Heavy and unmistaken.

You nodded. “That bad?”

“Worse,” he muttered, finally sparing you a glance with that signature smirk for just a second.

You moved the ice pack a little, brushing his blond hair back with your free hand to get a better look at the cut on his brow. It had stopped bleeding, but it’d bruise considerably by morning. You could already see the purple blooming beneath his skin.

“Did he say something, or did you finally throw the first punch?”

A dry, humorless laugh escaped him. “Both.”

He went quiet after that. You knew better than to push. You just stayed close and allowed the silence to seep in between the two of you again. Your hand brushed against his knee as you adjusted your knelt position a fraction, your head cocking to the side ever so slightly.

He leaned back against the couch now, taking control of the ice pack with his own hand and holding it there. He looked at you–really looked. “He said I was weak. That if I wanted the goddamn gavel, I needed to grow some balls first.”

You could see his jaw tick, like he was holding something back on purpose. “Well… did you?”

Jax’s tongue darted over his split lip. “Yeah. I swung. First time in front of the table. I knocked him on his ass.”

You let out a slow breath. “Jesus…”

He shook his head, tossing the ice pack on the side table. “He deserved it. He’s been throwing his weight around, becoming so goddamn full of himself and his vision–” His jaw ticked once again, like he wanted to elaborate but knew he couldn’t, nor would he. “Greed. Power. Lies. Everything that SAMCRO is supposed to be against, he’s gunning for everything that’s in the wrong direction on purpose.” You took his hand and held it, noticing the smear of Clay’s blood under his fingernails. “I’m scared I’m gonna become him. Or worse. I feel like everything is falling apart and I can’t get a fuckin’ grip on any of it.”

You felt your chest tighten. “You won’t.” He looked at you like he wanted to believe you if just for a second. “Every time you’ve come here, Jax, bleeding or not, you’re still fighting to be something better.”

He let out a shaky breath and leaned forward, the hand that you were holding coming up to cup your face as he spoke, “This is the only place I can breathe.” Jax’s thumb grazed against your cheek a few times as he held it while your hand came up to gently brush his hair back.

“I don’t know who the hell I am anymore,” he admitted, and it came out like a confession. “I thought I did. I thought the manuscript, my dad’s vision, all that… thought it would show me the way, but every time I try to steer this thing differently, I end up right back where he was. Drowning in the same fuckin’ shit.”

You reached up, fingers brushing against the bruise above his eye, “He didn’t drown, Jax. He was pulled under. There’s a difference.”

One hand rested on your wrist now while the other cupped the back of your neck. His touch wasn’t rough, but it held a considerable amount of weight. The pad of his thumb traced your skin, like he was trying to ground himself and like your heartbeat was the only constant left. The only thing that grounded him, tethering him to reality.

“I didn’t come here for this.” Jax admitted, his forehead resting against yours now. “I just–I couldn’t go home, you know? Not right now.”

“I know.” You reassured him in a whisper. “You don’t have to elaborate if you don’t want to.”

“But I want to.” His voice cracked on the edge of it. “You’re the only person who doesn’t look at me like I’m supposed to have all the answers. Like I’m not already burning at both ends.”

You forced down the knot rising in your throat, your gaze undeniably locking with Jax’s, quietly pleading, quietly saying all the things you couldn’t put into words. He looked back, his eyes never moving from your face; they never did, even if he’d deny it.

He moved first, deliberate and slow as he leaned in, like he was expecting you to back out but you didn’t. His lips captured yours as your breath was caught, but not out of surprise but rather relief. The kiss started carefully, loaded with a question he wasn’t sure neither of you wanted answered.

Still, you answered without hesitation, returning the same urgency.

Jax kissed you like a man starved, like he was desperate to feel something that didn’t rip him apart. His hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss. Your mouth opened for him, lips parting, and he groaned low and guttural, like the sound had been stuck under lock and key for days.

You climbed into his lap without asking, straddling him where he sat on the couch. Your knees bracketed his hips as your fingers traced up under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his chest, tracing warm skin and hard muscle. Jax’s breath hitched when your hands rested against the top of his chest, fingers curling into soft fists.

“Jesus.” He murmured against your mouth, his forehead resting against yours, “You sure about this?”

“Yes.” You whispered faintly, “I want this.” A beat of silence filled the void and then, “I want you, Jax.”

That did it, snapping the lingering tension like a bowstring.

He surged up, wrapping your legs around his waist, carrying you toward the bedroom like he couldn’t bear to waste another second. Your fingers fumbled with his shirt the second the door shut, but he beat you to it. He set you down right in front of the side of your bed, removing his own shirt as you undid his belt and zipper, letting each item fall to his ankles. He stepped out of them as he kissed you and helped you out of your sleepwear, conveniently a pair of shorts and a threadbare t-shirt far too baggy.

He gently held you in his arms and guided you onto the bed, gently laying your back against the mattress like you were something sacred; like this wasn’t just about fucking anymore, no, this was about remember what it felt like to just be human.

When Jax’s body lowered onto yours, his left hand trailed against your sides while his right held your face. His lips found yours again, his teeth gently nipping at your bottom lip. Then he pulled away just enough to study you despite the darkness in the room, as the only light that was present was the streetlight outside your bedroom window.

“You always look at me like that.” He hissed out in a hushed tone, now lapping his tongue against your neck.

“Like what?”

“Like I’m not me. Like… I’m worth a damn.” Like I’m not just another fuck, he thought.

“Because you are.” You declared once his eyes met yours seconds later.

He didn’t respond with words, but he did kiss you again. This time more urgent. Rougher, to the point where his scruff scraped against your skin with every pass. He cupped your breast, and his thumb brushed against your nipple, causing it to pebble underneath, and your back arched into him. You felt his cock against your thigh as he ground his hips into you, but he didn’t rush. He took his time, savoring the feel of your tongue against his.

Your hands explored him in return, grazing fingertips along his shoulders and cupping around his biceps with one hand while the other dipped low, gliding against the low dip of his spine.

Jax pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes soft, “I need you to see me tonight. Not the kutte. Not the club. Just… me, babe, can you do that for me?” God, the way he looked at you sent a shudder down your spine. He was the farthest thing from innocent, but that look could feed patrons for hundreds of years.

You reached up, cupping his jaw, “I already do, Jackson.”

He pressed his forehead against yours with a ragged breath. Then, slowly, he reached between you and guided himself to your entrance. He slid in with a quiet groan against your lips as your walls stretched to welcome him.

Fuck. You gasped at the feel of him; heavy, warm, perfect.

He didn’t move right away once he was fully sheathed. He bracketed both his forearms beside your head to hold himself up as your body fully adjusted. He made sure to study each subtle micro expression and leaned down to kiss you again, more meaningful and sweeter, a far cry from the first batch of kisses you’d shared tonight.

He started to move now, slow and steady, hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that was all need and reverence. Every thrust was deliberate, dragging across your walls and pushing you toward something deeper than just pleasure. You clung to him, your legs wrapping around his waist to keep him close and unambiguously inside.

“Fuck.” He cursed against your lips.

“Jax–,” you sighed in a whisper. He buried his face in your neck in almost a pathetic attempt to keep it together. You felt him tremble, his biceps twitching as you held him there and the unmistakably twitch of his jaw. He was close. “Jax, baby, you can fall apart here. It’s okay.”

That cracked something open.

His thrusts became uneven now, heavier, as if your permission had granted him the space to unravel. He held you tighter, his fingers digging into your hips and his breath turned ragged.

The build in your core grew hot and insistent. Each grind of his hips pulled a breathless moan from your lips. The weight of him, the way he moved inside you, the emotion… it was too much and not enough all at once.

Your climax crept in slowly, like a tide rising. Your body tensed under him, and he felt it, slipping a hand between your legs to circle your clit with practiced fingers. “Come for me.” He muttered against your ear, “Come while I’m inside you.”

Your mind protested for a moment before caving, your body obeying after the third pass of his cock following his request. Your walls clenched around him as your release hit. You cried out his name, fingers splaying his shoulder blades as you clung to him as he wrung out every bit of what you could give him.

“Shit,” he groaned, his hips sputtering. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

He came with a broken sound, burying himself deep one last time, his whole body going rigid for a few seconds before he slumped over you, chest heaving.

For a long moment, neither of you moved. You just held each other, hearts thudding in sync, sweat cooling on your skin. Eventually, he rolled onto his side, pulling you into him so you were tucked against his chest. He wrapped an arm around you, his thumb tracing circles on your back.

“I didn’t come here to do this.” Jax admitted, staring at the ceiling like he regretted what transpired. He didn’t, but he did at the same time.

“I know.” You said in a whisper.

Then… “But I’m glad I did.”

You tilted your head upward and smiled, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “Me too.”

He didn’t say anything else. He just held you closer, tightening his arms around your frame.

#jax teller x you #jax teller x reader #jax teller #sons of anarchy #soa #samcro #jax teller fic #jax teller fanfic #samcro fic #soa fic #jax teller smut #jackson teller #one shot #jax teller one shot #wrote this in less than 24 hours who is SHE???

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ofcourseiwillmydarling · 9 months ago

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❗I accidentally deleted the draft where I answered to the ask so I'm reposting it like this. Anyway, TYSM anon ! Means a lot to me ! I always feel like what I'm writing makes absolute no sense LOL. I hope you enjoy! 🫡🩵

a/n: Tomorrow I go back to class but we're up to a slow start, so I'll try to post as much as I can during these months ! If you guys have any other requests - about any soa character (both male and female) - dont be shy to send them, I have so much fun doing these & I looove hearing your thoughts ! ♡

! REQUESTS ARE OPEN

TW: mean !Jax & rough sex.

"Aw fuck - darlin' - what'd he do?" Your eyes are puffy and red - lashes clumping together from your tears - lips swollen from biting them. Jax makes a soft mouth sound as he sweeps his thumb over your cheekbone, rubbing slow, soft circles meant to soothe you.

"Clay," you sob. "He said I was jus' a cheap lay to you," your voice cracks and more tears fall across your pathetic, broken expression. "Jesus Christ," He hisses between clenched teeth. He's seething. "Where is he?"

You shake your head, digging your fingers into the lapels of his vest. "He left," you murmur. "Jus' leave it alone." The words hitched in your throat - blathering something incoherent.

"Baby," he urges. He can hear your heart beginning to thump - pounding too hard and too fast against your chest. "You're with me. You're okay." He rubs his cheek firmly against your own - skin sheathed in cool sweat - his nose probing your hairline.

It ends like it always does. He threads his fingers through your hair - tugging the strands gently - before he crashes his mouth against yours. "I love you."

He wraps his fingers around the bends of your knees - forcing them apart. He is hard between your legs; tip leaking and heavy as it presses against your belly. Fisting his cock, he sinks into you in one brutal stroke. He's meaner today. He had hurt you with his words, even when he'd slam the thick of him inside your cunt till you'd bruise, but it never mattered. You were too in love for it to ever matter. This was for him. Not you.

You don't know the specifics about his 'jobs' - he couldn't tell you - but you do know the state that he comes home in. You let him use you as he needs.

"Jackie," You mewl - brow wrinkling in discomfort - as you reach for him. You're full of him. You wonder if you could feel him if you placed your hand on your belly. You cradle the hinge of his jaw and you're blathering against the slope of his cheekbone. You hiccup and sniff - you couldn't help it - he's stretching you apart and it aches something fierce. "Quit whinin'." he bits out as he hits balls deep - cock hitting something deep and sensitive inside of you.

You meet each thrust - even though your cunt is raw - lifting your hips to take his cock again and again. "Don't stop - fuck - m'close." He rolls his hips into you - grinding his pelvic bone against against the peak of your sex - knocking a sharp cry from your kiss-swollen lips. Rough and sharp. It's aggressive and a little ugly - still, you kiss him like you're dying.

He tightens his grip on your waist as you writhe against his hold. He ducks his head - rubbing his cheek firmly against yours - as he presses deeper. He can feel you tighten up - muscles clamping down his length - and fucks you through it. "That's it," he exhales against your teeth - you feel his cock pulse inside you - hips stuttering against your own. "Fuck - I love you."

Still — he leaves. But oh - it feels just like love.

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mysticalmallard · 11 months ago

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♥︎ Defending Their Girlfriend ♥︎

🦆:These were all supposed to be drabbles, but I got a bit carried away, so they are more like oneshots and I didn't want to edit any of them down. Because they all came out so long I've only done Jax, Juice, Kozik, Tig and Chibs. I may do a separate one another time for Happy and Opie if that is something you guys want ♥︎

SoA Taglist: @arkytiorlecter @aimkatsz @ravennaortiz @darqchilddaydreamz @mischiefnevermanaged89-blog @hatersaremymotivators @theshynerdsworld @thefrogytimes @youngadult9016 @meera10

♥︎ If you wish to be added or removed from this taglist comment or message me ♥︎

⚠️ Warnings ⚠️ : VIOLENCE, ABUSIVE BEHAVIOUR, SEXUAL ASSAULT, CREEPY MAN, SEXIST men, swearing and other general SoA Warnings there is nothing too graphic but if you don't like reading about any of the topics listed please DO NOT read the rest of this post!!!, ONLY YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE for your OWN media consumption!!! ⚠️

SoA Masterlist || Main Masterlist

Jax

On a hot summer night, Jax and his girlfriend were out for a night walk, enjoying the quiet streets of Charming together.

As they walked, a group of young men, all of them a little tipsy on alcohol, passed by. One of the men catcalled Jax's girlfriend as they walked by, making a crude and sexist comment.

Jax took immediate offense, gritting his teeth in anger. He stepped up to the man, who looked startled by the tall, furious biker suddenly in his face.

"Excuse me?" Jax growled, his eyes locking onto the man who had made the inappropriate comment.

The man took a step back when he spots the club patches, suddenly realizing who Jax was.

"N-nothing, man, it's cool," the man stuttered out, trying to backpedal. But Jax wasn't satisfied he was already too angry. The other guys had stopped and were starting to circle, realizing the situation was getting heated.

"Oh, it's *not cool*, man," Jax said in a dangerous tone, his eyes flickering to the other guys slowly surrounding them. Jax wasn't worried, though - he lived for this. The tension in his body made it clear he was ready to defend his girlfriend, his pride at stake.

His girlfriend tugs at his sleeve worried "Jax it's okay...let's just go"

"Nah, this isn't okay, babe," Jax responds, his voice firm but gentle. He turns his head to look at his girlfriend, seeing the hint of worry in her eyes. He softens slightly. "He's disrespecting you. Me. *Us*."Jax turns his attention back to the man who started this whole thing. "You need to apologize. Now," he demands, his voice a low rumble, his eyes fixated firmly on the guy.

The man, still looking nervous but a little bolder behind his friends, scoffs and throws a cocky grin. "And if I don't?" He asks in a mocking tone.

Jax's eyes narrow, anger flaring again. He closes the space between them, getting right in the man's face. "Then you're gonna have a huge problem on your hands." The threat in Jax's voice is clear.

The man shoves Jax back when he gets in his face Jax stumbles back, but catches himself quickly, the shove only adding more fuel to his anger. He takes a step forward again, his shoulders squared swinging at him connecting with the man's jaw.

The man falls backward, clearly not expecting Jax to strike so quickly. The other men hesitate, not expecting to deal with a fight.

Jax stands over the man, glaring down at him. "Don't ever disrespect my girlfriend again," he snarls.

The man is clutching his face, a look of fear in his eyes as he looks up at Jax. He nods shakily. "S-sorry, man," he stutters out, clearly intimidated.

"Now apologize to my girlfriend," Jax's tone is firm. He's not backing down until the guy apologizes properly.

The man looks up at Jax's girlfriend, shame on his face. He mutters a quick, "Sorry, ma'am."

Jax's girlfriend looks relieved, but she's clings onto Jax's arm standing close to his side, clearly still feeling uncertain about the situation.

Jax looks down at her, silently asking if she's okay with the half-apology. She nods slowly, looking somewhat reassured.

Then, Jax looks back at the man on the ground, eyeing the other men who are still standing around, ready to step in if necessary.

"This is your only warning. Don't say that kind of shit again." Jax's voice is cold and firm. The message is clear - he won't tolerate anyone disrespecting his girlfriend like that again.

Juice

Juice and his girlfriend were sitting on the couch in his living room watching tv, when suddenly, she received a phone call from her parents. She reluctantly answers already knowing what they were gonna say. They were trying to convince her to end her relationship with Juice. Juice overheard bits of the conversation and could feel the tension in the room. He knew that they disapproved of their relationship.

Juice squeezed a pillow in frustration, but he couldn't just sit there and let her parents talk her out of their relationship without a fight.

He took the phone from her hand and took a deep breath before speaking. "Hey, I know you don't approve of this relationship, but I love her and I'm not going to let you talk her out of being with me without giving me a fair shot."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, but he could hear her parents murmuring in the background. They clearly didn't like his interruption.

"Listen I am sure you have some good qualities or our daughter wouldn't date you, but we don't want her dating some criminal thug from a motorcycle gang," her father said, his voice filled with disapproval.

Juice clenched his jaw, stung by the man's words. He couldn't help but feel the anger rising within him, but he tried to keep his cool.

"I may be in a motorcycle club, but I am not some mindless thug. I have a brain, I have a heart, and I have feelings just like anyone else, and i love your daughter sir...I don't know what she sees in me to be honest with you...she could have anyone she wants and she chose me...but I am going to stay with her as long as she wants me to be" he said with clenched teeth.

There was another moment of silence on the other end of the phone as her parents continued to murmur in the background.

Juice could feel the tension building up inside him, but he was determined to prove that he was worthy of her love. He glanced back at his girlfriend, who was sitting on the couch beside him, her eyes watching him intently. She gave him a small smile, knowing that he was defending their relationship fiercely. He smiled back at her before turning his attention back to the phone.

Her father spoke up again, his voice now filled with a hint of annoyance. "Look kid, we just don't want our daughter mixed up in some dangerous lifestyle. Motorcycle clubs are not known for their stability or their law-abiding ways, and we don't want her getting hurt or in trouble."

Juice took a deep breath before responding, his voice firm and steady. "I understand your concerns, sir, but my club is not like that. We have rules and structure and we take care of our own. We don't just go around causing trouble for the hell of it."

"But you DO cause trouble, don't you?...you say you love our daughter, but you can't, not if you want her involved in that lifestyle," her father says matter-of-factly.

Juice closes his eyes and sighs, stung by her father's words. He knew that her father had a point. His life in the club was dangerous, and he had seen firsthand how it could cause harm to those he cared about. But he couldn't deny his love for her. He couldn't just easily walk away from her.

" I know the life isn't perfect, sir, and yes, sometimes there is trouble, but I promise you I would never let anything happen to your daughter. I would protect her with my life. And as far as loving your daughter...I do, I love her more than I could even explain to her...but i am gonna try my best to show her every damn day"

Her father was silent for a moment, as if contemplating his words. Juice could hear him talking to his wife in the background, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. He waited anxiously for his response, his heart beating faster in his chest.

Finally, her father spoke up, his voice slightly more compassionate than before. "Look son, we love our daughter and we just want what's best for her. We want her to be happy and safe, and we're afraid this life you're involved in will only bring her pain."

"Come visit let me show you, meet me atleast before jumping to conclusions with gossip you hear from people who don't know me or the club....your daughter loves you guys so much and I don't want us being together creating tension in your relationship with her" he sighs down the phone trying to find someway of fixing things.

Her father was silent for a moment, mulling over Juice's invitation. He could hear him speaking to his wife in the background, and Juice could only hope that he was coming around.

Finally, her father spoke up again, his voice filled with resignation. " Fine, we'll come meet you. But we're only doing this for our daughter's sake, not yours."

"Fine with me, sir," is all he says before hanging up.

His girlfriend scoots over to him. "What did they say? They weren't rude were they? I swear I've told them so many times the club isn't a gang but they don't listen" She rattles off nervous to what was said.

He gently holds her face, looking in her eyes to get her to stop rambling. "Hey, hey, don't worry about it," he says, trying to soothe her. "It was a little rough at first, but I managed to calm them down. They agreed to come meet me."

"They did?" She asks in disbelief. "How did you manage that? I've asked before, but they said they were too busy"

He laughs softly, amused by her surprise. "I can be pretty convincing when I want to be," he jokes. "I just spoke my mind and made it clear I was serious about you. And I guess your dad didn't want to stand in the way of his baby girl's happiness."

He tightens his arms around her, pulling her into a tight hug. He can feel the warmth of her body against his and the softness of her hair against his cheek. He nuzzles his face into the crook of her neck, inhaling her familiar scent.

"I'm here for you," he whispers, his voice low and intense. "I'll always have your back."

Herman Kozik

Kozik pulled up to his girlfriend's house but as he pulled up he saw her standing outside with her ex. The ex was yelling and she was crying, with tears streaming down her face. Kozik gets off his bike and could immediately sense the tension in the air.

The ex, noticing Kozik's presence, turned and scowled at him. "Who the fuck are you?" he spat.

"I'm her boyfriend," Kozik replied, trying to keep his cool. "And you need to back off from her, man."

The ex's face contorted into a sneer. "Boyfriend?" he said, his voice dripping with venom. He turns back to her "are fucking kidding me with this shit?...huh? we were just having a little spat and you go and sleep with some biker dickhead..huh? I always thought you were a bit of a whore but really? I give you your space and you treat me like this?.." With every word the ex steps closer to her, she steps back as best she can away from him until she's against the building.

"w-we broke up. You kept cheating on me so I ended it. Its been 5 months...please just leave" she says shaking.

The ex lets out a scoff as he continues his advancement on her, he's just a few steps from her now. Kozik doesn't like the look on her face and steps between the two of them putting himself in front of her. "Back off man, I'm not going to tell you again." Kozik's tone is firm as he shoves him.

The ex stumbles back, a look of anger and disbelief on his face. "Who do you think you are, you biker trash?! You think you can come here and take my girl? She's mine!"

Kozik stands his ground, not backing down. "She's not your girl anymore, she's mine and she asked you to leave, so do it."

The ex takes a step forward, his hands balling into fists, "Or what, you're going to kick my ass? I'd like to see you try biker boy"

Kozik keeps his cool, staring the ex down. "I don't want to fight you man, but I will if you don't leave. She doesn't want you here."

Kozik looks over his shoulder at his girlfriend she looks terrified.

His voice softens, "Go inside love, i'll be in after" he says not wanting her nearby should things get violent.

She shakes her head softly glancing between them "n-no...please I don't want you to get hurt"

"I'll be fine baby please go inside" he pleads with her and she relents slowly walking around, the ex hurling insults at her as she goes when she goes to move past him he lunges forward grabbing her wrist causing her to scream.

The moment he touches her Kozik tackles him to the ground. He was caught off guard as Kozik takes him down. The Ex landed hard on the gravel, his back hitting the ground with an "oof". He tried to get up but Kozik was already on top of him, pinning him down.

"YOU DONT FUCKING TOUCH HER!" He screams in his face. The Ex tries to struggle against Kozik's hold, but it's no use. Kozik's grip is tight and strong.

"Get off me!" the Ex snarls, but Kozik just presses down harder, his face inches away from the Ex's. The ex turns his head to the girlfriend "you fucking see what you've done huh? You little whor-" Kozik doesn't let him finish punching him in the jaw.

"YOU SHUT UP DONT CALL HER THAT"

The ex let out a groan as Kozik punched him. His head slumped back into the gravel, reeling from the impact.

"You bastard!" he groaned, but Kozik didn't let up. He leaned forward, his face just inches away from the Ex's.

"You listen to me and you listen well," Kozik growls. "You're going to leave her alone. You're not going to speak to her, you're not going to call her names, and you're sure as hell not going to touch her again. Do. You. Understand?"

The Ex nods, his expression a mix of anger and fear. Kozik lets go of him and stands, taking a step back. The Ex sits up, his jaw sore, and glares up at her.

Kozik blocks his view standing in front of his trembling girlfriend.

The Ex gets to his feet, his hand rubbing his bruised jaw. "You think this is over?" he spits.

"It's over when she says it's over," Kozik replies, his voice hard and determined. "And she's already made it clear she doesn't want anything to do with you."

The Ex opens his mouth to reply but stops himself, his eyes darting between Kozik and his girlfriend. He clearly wants to say more, but he knows he's out matched.

"You're done here," Kozik says firmly. "So do yourself a favor and save yourself the beating and leave. Don't come back." Kozik stares him down, daring him to do something after a long while the ex stalks off back to his car across the street.

Kozik stays in a protective stance in front of her until the car disappears around the corner.

The moment he is out of sight he turn back to her. She's shaking, her eyes wide and tear-streaked. Kozik gently cups her face with his large, calloused hands, his expression softening.

"Baby, it's okay," he says soothingly. "He's gone. I'm here. You're safe now."

Kozik wraps his arms around her, holding her tight against him. He rubs soothing circles on her back, trying to calm her down.

"Shhh, it's alright love," he murmurs into her hair. "I got you. I got you."

They stand like that for a few moments, her clinging to him like a lifeline, him holding her close and protective. Finally, she pulls back a bit, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. Kozik brushes the tears from her cheeks with his thumbs, his touch gentle and caring. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, alright?"

Tig Trager

Tig was at her place when the doorbell rang. Tig, being the gentleman he is, answered it for her.

"May I help you, ma'am?" Tig inquired to the older woman waiting outside.

The old woman glares at him, her eyes narrowing as she looks him up and down. “You’re making too much noise! Always driving that loud motorcycle, playing music late at night. It’s completely disrespectful!”

Hearing the womans shrill voice his girlfriend comes up behind him knowing he has a short fuse with these kinds of things. "I'm sorry, we'll try to keep it down from now on" she says not wanting to cause any issues with her neighbour.

The old woman huffs, clearly not satisfied with the response. “You young people have no respect these days. In my day, we knew how to behave properly. But I guess your generation doesn’t care about how your actions affect others, do you?”

Tig’s temper is reaching its boiling point, but he manages to keep his cool for now. "Respect goes both ways, lady," he says, his tone cold and calculated. "We’ve been keeping the noise down as much as we can. Maybe you should try investing in some earplugs or something."

The old woman looks affronted by Tig’s response. “How dare you speak to me like that! I have lived here for years before she even considered buying that house, and I will not be disrespected by some biker thug!”

Tig’s temper ignites at her words. “Biker thug? You call me a thug?” he scoffs, his voice rising in anger. “I was a Marine. I fought for this country. What have you done besides sit in your rocking chair and complain?“

The old woman looks taken aback by his words, her eyes narrowing further. “I don’t care what you’ve done. You’re still making too much noise and disturbing the peace. Maybe she should consider moving if you can’t handle living in a civilized neighborhood.”

Tig’s fists clench at his sides as he struggles to keep his composure. "Civilized neighborhood? You call this place civilized when all you do is nag and complain? Maybe you should learn to mind your own damn business and stop worrying about how loud we are."

"You watch your tone, young man! I have the right to live in peace and quiet, and I will not let some criminal with a bad attitude tell me otherwise." The old lady’s eyes flash with anger.

Tig is on the verge of losing his temper completely. "Criminal? I’m not a criminal," he says through gritted teeth. "And you don’t have the right to tell her what she can do in her own home. We’ll keep the noise down as much as we can, but we won’t be silenced just because you don’t like how we live."

The old woman huffs again, clearly not satisfied with Tig’s response. "I’ll be watching you. One more loud noise and I’ll call the police and repor-."

Tig doesn't let her finish and just slams the door in her face mumbling under his breath "Damn old lady." He huffs, turning to face his girlfriend. "Can’t she mind her own damn business? People these days, I swear. I bet shes just all pissy cause she ain't getting any... do you think Piney would take one for the team?" he asks jokingly pulling a giggle from her. "But seriously," he continues, his expression turning serious. "Don’t let her give you any grief....but you know you would have any issues if you just live with me....we can be as loud as we want there." He says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively putting his hands on her hips.

"I know, I know," she says, giggling again as she rolls her eyes at his antics. "And as tempting as that offer is... Its a little too soon for us baby...besides I dont think you can handle all this every day...do you think you could keep up old man." she says, running her hand over his chest.

He chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Oh, I can definitely handle it baby doll." He says, his hands moving up her sides. "I can keep up just fine. In fact, I could probably wear you out before you could wear me out." He grins, pulling her closer to him.

"Wanna prove it, Trager?" She challenges peering up at him through her lashes.

A sly smirk spreads across his face as he eyes her up and down, taking in her seductive curves. "You bet your sweet ass I do," he growls, his hand moving to her hip, pulling her flush against his body. He cups her chin, lifting her face up to meet his gaze. His eyes darken with desire as he leans down to her ear, his breath hot on her skin. "You're playing with fire, darlin'," he whispers, his voice low and rough. His arms snake around her waist, pulling her closer still. His hands wander down to her ass, giving a firm squeeze. "You sure you can handle it?"

She gasps softly as he touches her, her body responding to his touch. "I can handle anything you throw at me, Trager," she whispers back, her eyes locking with his.

"Is that so?" He grins, nipping at her ear. "We'll see about that."

He scoops her up into his arms, holding her against his chest with ease. He strides over to the couch, setting her down on it before crawling over her, his body covering hers. He takes her wrists in his hands, pinning them above her head. He gazes down at her, his eyes filled with hunger and desire. "You still think you can handle it, doll?" She shivers as he holds her pinned beneath him, his body pressed against hers. She can feel his heat, his strength, the hardness of his muscles.

She meets his gaze boldly, a smirk playing on her lips. "Oh, I know I can handle it. But can you handle me, old man?"

He chuckles moving his lips hovering over hers but a loud knocking comes from the door once more causing them both to groan

"I CAN STILL HEAR YOU" The voice of the woman breaks through ruining the moment.

Tig growls in frustration, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. "Damn it," he mutters. He sits back on his heels, running a hand through his hair "Let's just ignore her hmm? she has to leave eventually"

She sighs "Tiggy, baby, we are not having sex in earshot of that woman total mood killer"

He sighs heavily "I could kill her if you want.. I'm sure no one would miss the old hag" he offers only half joking.

She swats his chest laughing "Don't you dare, she'll end up haunting me forever" she pouts.

Tig laughs, amused by her playful swat. "Okay, no killing the old bat," he agrees reluctantly holding his hands up.

"But seriously, how do we shut her up? You deserve to be able to make as much noise as you want in here without being hassled by some nosy neighbor."

She pauses, thinking for a moment. "I don't know... maybe I could talk to her again and try to reason with her. Or we could get some soundproofing for the walls."

He frowns thinking for a moment "...or you could just move in with me...you could sell this place or rent it out...I have a spare room you could turn into your own space if you want...I dont think it's too soon" he asks again completely sincere.

She looks at him, surprised by his proposal. "Move in with you? But... are you sure? I mean, it's a big step."

She can see the sincerity in his eyes, and a part of her is intrigued by the idea. Living with Tig would certainly be different than living alone, but the thought of waking up next to him every morning is pretty appealing...

"I'm sure," he says firmly. "I want you closer to me, and it would solve the nosy neighbor problem. Plus, I could keep you safe easier."

He reaches out and gently tucks a strand of her hair out of her face. "Besides, I like the thought of waking up with you every morning."

Chibs

Chibs and his girl were at the mall, walking up to the escalator hand in hand. While going up, Chibs' sharp eyes caught sight of something unpleasant. He saw a man standing a step bellow them discreetly aiming his phone under his girl's dress, attempting to take a picture.

Without skipping a beat, Chibs snatches the phone out of his hand. He holds it firmly, staring the man down. The creep froze, realizing he'd been caught, his eyes darting around nervously.

Chibs' grip on the phone tightened. He glanced at his girl who was visibly uncomfortable and quickly caught onto the situation, her cheeks flushing with anger.

"Ye thought ye could just take pictures of my girl without being seen, eh? Not on my watch," Chibs growled, his voice low and dangerous.

He opens the phone Chibs flicks through the images on the man's phone, each one more sickening than the last. His anger mounts as he realizes this creep has been a repeat offender, taking pictures of alot of unsuspecting women at the mall.

His jaw clenches tightly as his eyes narrow on the man, his voice dropping dangerously low. "Ye got quite the habit, don't ye? Takin' pictures up lassies' skirts without their knowledge," he seethes.

He hands the phone to his girl, making sure she sees the evidence. She looks at the pictures, her expression a mix of disgust and anger.

"I'll take care of this, don't ye worry," Chibs reassures her, turning his undivided attention back to the guy. His voice is firm and commanding, "Ye've got some explainin' to do, laddie. What's yer name?"

But they've reached the top now the man quickly trys to scramble past wanting to get away. Despite the man's attempt to flee, Chibs' reflexes are lightning fast. Before the guy can take 2 steps away, Chibs seizes him by the collar, yanking him firmly back.

"Nah, ye ain't goin' anywhere," Chibs hisses, his grip like iron, effectively boxing him in.

A small group has gathered around seeing the commotion his girlfriend quickly explains what's going on with a shaky voice so they don't get the wrong idea about what Chibs was doing handing the phone to a dad wearing dog tags with his two teen daughters so he can see for himself. The dad looks at the phone, his expression hardening as he sees the pictures. He passes the phone to one of the older girls, who also peeks at the images. She gasps, her hand flying to her mouth.

"Oh my God," she whispers.

The crowd surrounding them grows, with murmurs of disgust and outrage. Chibs holds the man firmly, his eyes scanning the gathering crowd.

The dad and few other men from the crowd help him hold the man down on the ground, none of them caring if they hurt him or not.

The man squirms in the grip of Chibs and the other men, but it's useless against their combined strength. Chibs holds him tight, his eyes narrowing angrily.

"Nuh-uh, laddie. Ye ain't gettin' away from this," he growls.

One guy in the crowd heads off to fetch mall security, and they arrive within a few minutes, taking the situation in.

The security guard approaches Chibs and the rest of the men holding the man prisoner. "What's going on here?" he asks, a sense of authority in his voice.

"This creep was takin' pictures up my girl's skirt on the escalator," Chibs explains, his voice a dangerous rumble.The security guard's eyes widen slightly as he nods in understanding, he then turns to address the man. "Is this true?"

"I... um... I...," the man stutters, his protests falling flat under the intense gazes of Chibs and the others.

"Save yer excuses, laddie," Chibs interrupts, his tone firm. "We all know what ye were doin'. There's the proof, right in yer damn phone."

The security guard nods, taking the phone from from her to have a look. His expression hardens as he goes through the images. The man's face is a mask of shame and fear as he's cornered.

"Alright, we'll be taking him into custody, and call the police" the security guard says to the crowd around them. "You can all return to your day now."

The people gradually disperse, the thrill of the spectacle wearing off. Chibs nods at the security guard. "Make sure he pays the price for what he's done," he adds, his voice hard and unforgiving.The man is taken away by the security guard, struggling but ultimately unable to escape.

Chibs turns to his girlfriend who still looks shaken. He puts his arm around her, pulling her close.

"Are ye alright, love?" he asks gently, his voice softer now the immediate threat is gone."I... I think so," she says quietly, her hand clinging to his. "I just can't believe someone would actually do that."

Chibs tightens his grip on her, pulling her into a tight embrace. "Aye, it's sick. But ye don's have to worry about him no more. He's goin' to get just what he deserves."

Chibs gently kisses the side of her head, his lips lingering against her hair. He draws her closer to him, his strong arms wrapping around her protectively.

"I'm sorry ye had to go through all that, lass," he murmurs, his voice soothing. "Don't worry, I'm here for ye."

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switchsupremacy · 1 month ago

Text

soft 4 u!

content warning! sub fem reader, dom jax teller, pet names, unprotected sex, missionary position, aftercare.

you’d overheard the conversations at the teller-morrow. tense, muffled disagreements about jax and how he’s changed. they’d say he’d gone soft; lost his bite… lost his edge. you hear another, deeper, voice throw your name into the conversation. it accused you of being the reason for jax’s sudden actions regarding samcro.

eventually you’d ask about the conversation, curious as to what they could’ve been implying about your intentions. but jax just smiles, tight lipped and nearly irritated, and tells you not to worry your pretty little head about it.

sometimes you could understand his brothers. sometimes, because there is nothing softer about jax teller than when he has you underneath him. splayed out along his bed, with your melanated skin contrasting the sheets.

he’s soft in the way his eyes scan your naked body, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips. his calloused hands are gentle as he runs them up and down your sides, along your thighs, your ribcage, cupping the mounds of your chest. “pretty girl,” he coos, thumbs tweaking your nipples.

he can see the need and desperation in your eyes, it makes him smile — all coy and mischievous. “you just want me to fill you, huh gorgeous?” he drawls out. you nod, unashamed to admit how much you craved him. he hums in acknowledgment. “i need words, pretty.” he pinches on of your nipples, a warning. “i need you so bad jackie.” you whine, breathing labored.

“good girl.” he grins, reaching down to line himself up. his tip rubs against your entrance, smearing your arousal. he chews his lip at the feeling, dilated eyes scanning your body once more.

maybe he has gone soft. there’s were moments at the beginning of your relationship, similar to this one, where he’d tease and prod until you cried of need. but now? one pleading, desperate look from you is all it takes before he’s pushing in. there’s barely any resistance as he goes deeper and deeper.

you gasp, feeling him bottom out. your hand instinctively comes down to press against his stomach, he’s too deep. “nuh-uh. none of that, you’re gonna take what i give you.” he tell you, grabbing your hand and pinning it to the bed.

jax knew just how to make you fall apart. one hand pinning your hands to the bed while the other reaches down and rubs tight, fast circles on your clit. he fucks you slowly, dragging his hips back & forth. thrusts that have you crying out, repeatedly filling you up with every stroke.

your body shivers and trembles. you pull weakly against his grip on your hands, truly being made to take exactly what he gives you. it’s too much, too good, too overwhelming. “too m-much-“ you gasp, forcing the words out and nearly choking on your own moans.

he leans down. pressing his lips along your temple, then your cheek. he stops at your ear, “you were made to take my cock.” he says, voice deep with arousal. you clench tighter, pussy fluttering around the big intrusion. “see? i can feel you clenchin’ honey. you’re getting close ain’t you?” he teases, pressing down on your clit harder.

he angles his hips differently, and you cry out immediately. “jack-jackie, fuck hnng— that’s m-my spot-“ you squeal, and he smiles against your cheek. you can’t do anything but keen and writhe and take exactly what he dishes out. “i wanna feel this pretty pussy cum for me darlin’.” and that’s what does it. your orgasm crashes over you in big waves as your body jerks. “that’s it honey, shit.” he curses breathing hotly in the junction between your neck and shoulder.

for a split second, jax has second thoughts about pulling out…. but that wouldn’t be very nice of him. instead he fucks into you harder, a couple more thrusts that have you writing in overstimulation before he pulls out, painting your stomach in thick stripes of cum.

in this moment he knows for himself that he’s truly gone soft. he reaches over to the bedside to grab tissues and wipes you down immediately. he’s careful, knowing you’re still sensitive. and after this, you’re practically bundle of nerves in his arms. he lets you cuddle into his chest and he gives you little nose kisses as you do.

he doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with him going soft for his pretty girl.

#sub reader #sub afab reader #sub female reader #dom jax teller #sub!reader #jax teller smut #samcro smut #sons of anarchy smut #sons of anarchy #jax teller x reader #samcro x reader #x reader #jax teller #samcro

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voxmortuus · 1 year ago

Note

Hi baby. Saw the prompt list. 😎 May I have #5 ☆ { calling } them late at night to come over for Jax Teller, please?

Thank you. ♥

⇘ PAIRING:⇙ Jax Teller x F!Reader ⇘ UNIVERSE:⇙ Sons of Anarchy ⇘ WORD COUNT:⇙ 1.1k ⇘ TRIGGER WARNINGS:⇙ Fluff | Smut | Jax and his filthy mouth (language) | Foreplay | P-i-V | Pull-out Method | More fluff | PLEASE TELL ME IF I FORGOT ANYTHING!!! I want to make sure readers are fully aware of what they are getting themselves into when they read this… ⇘ NOTES:⇙ Sorry if this is total ass... but I hope this brings you some joy. ⇘ DIVIDER CREDIT:⇙ @nyxvuxoa ⇘ IMAGE CREDIT:⇙ This was found through Google and is not my GIF, if this is your GIF or know whose it is, please inbox me, so I can credit the creator. Thank you! ⇘ My Master Masterlist ⇙

It was just one of those nights, there's only so much scrolling you can do before things become repetitive, and boring in your feeds. Flipping between Tumblr, Reddit, and Facebook, things were becoming boring, and nothing was helping you fall asleep. Tapping the side of your phone, you flip through old photos, smiling now and again looking over Jax's face. Sitting up in bed, you check the time, 12:24 a.m. Sighing, you decide to give it a shot, chances are Jax was up anyway, so why not.

Scrolling down and finding his name, you hit the call button, and wait. Ringing you groan, maybe he was --

"Hey, Darlin'. You alright? What's up?" he asks, you can tell there's a smile on his face.

"Hey, Baby. I know it's kinda late, but would you mind coming over... I can't sleep... and I could use the company." you bite your lip a bit.

"Yeah, sure, I'll be over in 15." he stated.

After the brief conversation and a quick I love you and a hangup, you go unlock your door, knowing he'll lock it when he gets here.

Hearing the motorcycle approach, and the engine turn off, you feel this bubble of excitement pulse through you. It was a matter of time before you heard your front door open, close, lock, and the sound of boots headed your way.

Peeking his head in, he looks over you, and you smile, moving over you pat the empty space in your bed and gesture for him to join you. Taking the hint, he makes his way over, slipping off his vest and coat, tossing his hat on the table, and kicking off his boots and socks, he slips into bed.

"Your pants... your shirt... are in the way." you smirk.

He chuckles and standing back up he takes them off, dropping them to the floor before climbing back in under the covers. You scoot yourself closer, and he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close.

"Can't sleep?" he asked you.

Nodding, your fingers move over his chest as you look up at him and smile. "Thank you for coming over."

"It's nothin' Darlin'. I've always told you I'm a call away." he kisses the top of your head.

A soft smile graces your lips as you scoot a little closer to him and let out a small satisfied smile. But you seem you can't keep your hands from wandering on him. Slipping under the blanket, you keep your gaze on him as you move over his boxers. Smiling, you bite at your lip and kiss him sweetly.

A slight chuckle escapes his lips as he pulls you closer to him, his hand roaming your figure as he moves you to lay on top of him, holding you close, his hips move upward a bit, kissing you deeply, and he slips the shirt from your body and tosses it to the floor along with his clothes.

Pressing yourself against him, your hands move up along his sides and find your way to get tangled in that love head of golden locks. The kissing gets a little heavier between you two, the touching, how you press your hips against him, feeling him harden against you. You move your hand between your legs as you grip him through his boxers. He groans against your lips as he grips your breast, pulling you closer, and kissing you deeper.

The kissing, the touching, the grunts, and the groans were enough to send you into a feral mind. Moving his boxers down, you slip him right between your lips, your hips press yourself down, pressing him deeper inside you. You both end up groaning in unison.

His grip on your hips is tight, his fingers pressing hard against your flesh, indenting as he thrusts upward just enough to finish that last little bit you wanted to slip inside you. The streetlights are the only thing illuminating the room, your shadow cast on the walls. Looking over, he watches your shadow as you brace yourself against his chest and begin to move up and down on his cock.

Holding your thighs in his hands, he watches the way you move against him, your hands pressing into his chest as he moves his own up your body, feeling your flesh under his hands was a sort of high for him. He presses a hand against your chest, between your breasts, as he slowly guides your motions as he thrusts upward.

As you are being guided with a hand on your chest, one on your hip, and his cock between your legs, your head falls back as you let out a loud, long, drawn-out moan. Your body trembles as you pick up on the sounds, the smells, the way the air tastes. Listening to him grunt and your own moans fill the air. It's all palpable. Erotic. Addicting.

The way you both work against and with each other, it sends these shockwaves through both of you, a genuine quickie, you feel yourself building, but of course, it doesn't help with his own buildup, you can tell in his tone, in how frequent his groans become, in how his breath smells. Leaning forward, you moan against his lips. And that's when he tells you to finish with him. He lifts you up, and you grip his cock as he works your bud.

Before you know it, your whole body trembles, feeling those hot ribbons of white pour against you. Whimpering and trembling against him, you begin to pant. Achieving your desired goal, he leans against the pillow but grabs something to clean you up.

There was hardly anything spoken between you two. But you lay there, holding him close, you look up at him as he stares down at you.

"You feel good." you chuckle.

"What even was that?" he chuckles.

"I think it's called a quickie. You should be used to those." you poke.

"Ohh, is that what that was? I like those... but next time... we do a longie... not a quickie," he smirks.

"I'll play with your longie." you chuckle.

"No, Darlin', we call it a cock, longie.... please no." he chuckles. "Besides, I like the way the word cock escapes your lips." he smirked.

"You like your cock between my lips Jax..." you joust.

Gasping he chuckles. "That is true... gotta say, you're a good cocksucker." he winks.

The night continued into the morning, and eventually, you had both fallen asleep. His arms wrapped around you, his face in your hair, and you clung to him like your entire life depended on it. You were glad you called him over, much needed, and the sleep was much better with him there.

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starfxkrinc · 4 months ago

Text

meet the readers....samcro!reader

samcro!reader...who's father was a founding member. the oldest of three girls, she's the only one with a different (black) dad. she's always faced the brunt of odd racial dynamics in the club as "innocent" and impersonal as they may be.

samcro!reader...who's been raised to be her father's legacy. he had no sons, so she's his son. she was bred to know the club inside and out, always thinking about what's best as a whole. despite this, they both knew she would never have a role being both black and a woman.

samcro!reader...who was expected to just grow up and be jj's old lady. as close to an arranged marriage as you could get just to keep her family involved.

samcro!reader...who always wanted more, refusing to stay on the back of someone else's bike and riding her own. knowing more than even jj about what it takes to be a part of the club, leading him to secretly come to her for advice.

samcro!reader...who uses jj as her guard dog, even when she sets him up, he comes back to her looking for an open hand.

samcro!reader...who killed her father when she was 15 after searching for a reason to. making her 10 year old sister help bury the body and keep the secret. when atf comes and tries to get her to rat, they insinuate the club played a part in his disappearance not knowing he's fertilizing the poppies.

samcro!reader...who's called "pussycat" for her seeming to have 9 lives: bike accidents, drive bys, housefires you name it. she's survived it. but people like gemma see her more as a snake. everyone who's spotted her schemes and tried to take her out failed. so when the matriarch shoots her in the head it's a shock when she comes crawling back.

samcro!reader...who's machiavellian self interest primes her to take over. not for her father, not for the other women, but for herself. with all the tension between jax clay and gemma, nobody's paying attention to pussycat and her guard dog jj, two usurpers in the making.

playlist

#🌙.txt #soa!obx #samcro!reader

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secretlysamcro · 4 months ago

Text

Female reader x Jax Teller SMUT, possible spoilers & explicit language If you’re under the age of 18, haven’t finished the show or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Request: “The reader is new to Charming and meets Gemma with Abel at the supermarket. Maybe she'll help Gemma calm Abel down and they'll start talking. Gemma likes her straight away and plans to set her up with Jax to stop him from getting back together with Tara. The two fall in love, but Tara tries to intervene. But Jax shows that he only wants Reader and Tara disappears. I trust you can make something out of it…maybe Smut & Fluff. Please and thank you!”

Back story: y/n has finally settled into life in Charming, getting used to that small town feel. One evening, whilst grabbing something to eat for dinner, she helps reunite a runaway child with his grandma. Being a natural with children she’s drawn to help, and in doing so? She’s introduced to a life she knew nothing about.

Abel's wails echoed through the grocery store, his tiny fists clenched, face red and twisting with frustration.

"I WANT IT!" he shrieked, pointing at the brightly colored box of cereal.

Gemma exhaled sharply, pushing the cart forward whilst gripping onto his hand. "I said no, Abel. We have that at home".

With a quick twist, he yanked free from her grasp and took off. His sneakers squeaking against the polished floor as he disappeared into another aisle.

"ABEL!" Gemma barked, the sharp click of her own heels following his escape. "GET BACK HERE NOW!" she huffs under her breath "You little shit...just like your father".

Abel though, keeps on running.

And running.

And running. Until, he runs directly into you. You stumble slightly at the sudden impact, looking down at the little body clinging to your hoodie.

"Whoa, you okay?" you say, steadying him by his shoulders.

He blinks, seemingly unfazed "Grandma wont let me have cereal" he says, tugging at your sleeve now.

You hold back a laugh. "Yeah? and that's why you're making a run for it?"

You take his hand, following the shouts from a few aisles down. "ABEL!" Gemma continues to scream.

You turn just in time to see a woman striding towards you, her expression torn between frustration and relief.

"I think I found your escapee" you say, lifting Abels hand slightly.

Gemma reaches you in seconds, placing her hands on his face, scanning him for any signs of distress. "Oh Abel, sweetheart" she whispers, pulling him into a hug "You scared the hell outta Grandma"

Abel stands there, not returning the hug, his hands strict to his sides. "I want cereal".

She straightens up, ignoring his request, finally giving you her full attention. Her sharp gaze flickers over you, as if she was sizing you up.

"Thanks" she says, the words sounding a little forced, like it wasn't something she said often. "I said no to the cereal" she adds with a shrug, trying to lighten the mood.

"Boys will be boys" you laugh it off, looking the woman up and down. She seems, fierce. Like someone you wouldn't fuck with.

You see a shift in her stance, as she registers what you've said. "You got boys?"

"Nah...well yeah, but they're not mine...I have nephews" you respond, stumbling over your words slightly.

You miss them, you miss home and you miss your family but moving here? It was the right choice.

"Coulda fooled me" she says, noticing the confused look in your response "You got that whole Mom vibe" she says, using her hand to point you up and down.

You nod your head, a small laugh leaving your lips "Well, I did work with kids for a while"

"Teacher?"

"No... Nanny"

Something in her stance shifted slightly, just enough to be noticeable. "Huh" she looks down towards Abel who is now busy digging through your cart like he was the paying for it. "That explains it"

You smile at her words, "Yeah... I guess so"

There was a small pause, but she didn't walk away. Instead, she titled her head. "You new to Charming?"

You nodded, surprised she could tell "Yeah, a few weeks now"

"You workin'?" She crosses her arms, giving you another once over. "Sorry, I don't mean to be... in your business, I just...my son..." she ruffles Abel's hair "...his Dad, he's got a Nanny at the moment but, she's useless, hardly free..." she steps slightly closer to you now "...Just wonderin' if you still do the whole nanny thing?"

It wasn't something you had expected, and for a moment you consider saying no. You weren't exactly on the hunt for a job, but then again it would give you something to do.

"I can give you my number?" you offer, a genuine smile on your face.

Gemma pulled out her phone without hesitation, handing it over. You typed in your name and number before handing it back.

She takes a look at the screen. "y/n" she reads, "nice name"

“Gemma, by the way” she smiles, lifting her purse higher up her shoulder. “And this little guy is…” she doesn’t finish. You answer for her.

“Abel” you say, a smirk on your face, Gemma can’t help but laugh.

“You got that? Huh” she laughs “well, I’ll speak to my son and maybe give you a call sometime soon.” She says, instructing Abel to say goodbye.

“Bye bye” Abel whispers

“See ya around Buddy” you say, waving to him “Bye Gemma” you nod in her direction, before turning around and leaving the aisle.

Jax pulls up to Gemma's house in the van, Happy in the back alongside a sleeping Abel. Jax scoops him up, shooting a look over to Happy "wait here" he instructs, before sliding the doors shut.

"Mom?" Jax calls out, shutting the door with his foot after stepping inside.

"In here!" she calls out from the kitchen, sounding stressed.

Jax walks in to find her pacing, her phone in one hand and the other on her hip. she looks pissed.

"The hells up with you?" Jax asks, shifting the weight of Abel on his hip as he begins to stir.

Gemma sighs, rubbing a hand down her face. "Fucking Nate. The home called, he's losing his god damn mind again. Thinks the staff are government spies or some shit. I gotta go deal with it"

Jax sighs, already knowing the problem before its said out loud "So you can't take Abel?"

She shoots him a look. "No shit"

Jax is now the one looking stressed, rubbing the back of his neck "Shit Mom, I got club business, important business" he lets her know, without having to get into detail.

Gemma scoffs, throwing up a hand "Yeah? well I've got crazy old man business, so what do you want me to do?"

Jax ran his tongue over his teeth, his jaw tight as ever, Gemma snapping him out of it with the click of her fingers, like something just came to mind. "Wait a minute... there's that girl" she begins.

Jax frowns, not liking the idea of leaving his kid with someone he didn't fully trust, or even know.

Gemma, already going through her phone contacts. "y/n. Met her at the store with Abel the other day"

Jax's eyebrows furrowed "And you wanna leave my son with some random chick from the grocery store?"

"She used to be a nanny" she shoots back, giving him a knowing look. "She helped with Abel, without makin' me feel like a shitty grandma"

"She seem solid?" he asks, sounding sceptical

Gemma nods. “Wouldn’t have mentioned anything if I didn't”

Jax lets out a frustrated breath, looking down at Abel who was rubbing his tired eyes. "Fine, call her"

Gemma smirked, already pressing the call button. As the phone rang, Jax set Abel down on the coach, kneeling to make sure his son was good.

"You're gonna hang out with someone new today, okay little man" he mumbles softly, pushing his sons hair back.

Abel yawned, still sleepy "Okay Daddy"

Jax phone buzzed, It was Happy, they were on a tight schedule. He looked over his shoulder at Gemma, still waiting for y/n to pick up.

"I gotta go" Jax said, standing now. "You make sure she's good before you leave".

Gemma waved him off "Yeah, yeah go play outlaw. I got this"

He hesitates a little, before kissing Abel on the head, and the same his mother. He looks back before leaving "Text me her number...and give her mine, just in case" he says roughly, and then he leaves, closing the door behind him and jumping back into the van.

You pull up to the address provided by Gemma, shifting on your feet as you wait for the door to answer. It was one thing to help a frantic grandmother in a grocery store, but it was another to be trusted to watch her grandson in her home without knowing much about her, or him at all.

Within seconds, the door swung open, and there she was, her sharp eyes scanning you up and down, as if she was sizing you up all over again.

“Come in” she says, stepping aside to let you through. The walls were lined with history, frozen in time. Black and white photos of men standing besides their motorcycles, arms draped over each other in a way that screamed brotherhood. More recent photos showing different faces, but the same leather vests, ‘SONS OF ANARCHY' stitched boldly across their backs.

Then came the family photos, snapshots of Gemma alongside a man wearing the same leather vest, two young boys at their sides. As you follow the timeline through the frames, you watch as one of the little boys disappear, then so does the father figure, soon replaced by another. The most recent family photo, only including Gemma, Jax and Abel. One thing that stood out the most to you though, throughout every photo including Abel, there was always Gemma and his dad, but never a mother. A small voice snaps you out before you could make any more observations.

“Hey! I member you” You hear him before you see him. You turn to see his head popping just over the armrest of the couch, his face lighting up in recognition. “Hey buddy” you crouch slightly “You remember me, huh?” He nods eagerly “Uh huh, you found me when I was lost” Gemma scoffs, “You was not lost, you were being a pain in the ass” although abrupt, you still note the softness behind her words. You stifle a laugh as Abel turns back to his toys, Gemma eyeing you up once again. “Alright, so...” Gemma begins, already moving around the room with purpose, collecting her things. You can tell this is gonna be a quick one. “...I've gotta head up North, my dads losing it again at the nursing home, and if I don't get up there soon, they're gonna kick him out on his ass” She grabs her bag from the kitchen counter. You blink, taking in all the information at once, how someone can be so trusting with someone they barely knew? you’d never know.

Gemma paused, she could tell by your face you were a little taken back by the responsibility you were being given. “Look, y/n I know its short notice, and we don't really know each other, but I trust my gut, and my gut says you can handle this” She smiles towards Abel “And Abel? he likes you, it takes a lot for him to warm up to somebody, and with you...its been instant” Something about how she spoke made you realise Gemma didn’t seem like the type to hand out trust lightly. You nod your head, agreeing to to help. Gemma walks you through the essentials, her tone sharp but not unkind. She points out where everything is. The kitchen, the bathroom, extra clothes for Abel if he needs them, and then come the instructions.

"He'll try to sweet talk you into giving him candy, don't fall for it" she warns, opening up one of the cabinets. "Snacks are fine, but lets limit the junk" She then places a small stack of bills on the counter. "Just in case, order food if you need to, or if you gotta run out for something...the car seats in the garage to the left" Then, as if remembering, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a scrap of paper. She scribbles something down before handing it to you.

"Thats Jax's number, his dad. He might get back before I do, but if anything comes up, call him" she says, her tone casual.

You take the paper, looking down at the name and the number written. "Okay" you say, knowing its probably best if you don't question her.

Gemma exhales softly, looking at you "And make yourself at home, alright?" her voice sounding softer now, a little less sharp.

It had been a few hours since Gemma had left you to care for Abel, and honestly, out of all the kids you’d ever looked after, he was by far one of the easiest, and the cutest. He wasn’t any trouble at all. Listened to everything you said, tidied up after himself without being asked and was able to share what he wanted with little to no fuss. You’d spent that last half hour sitting with him, helping him color in his pictures. Each drawing more creative than the last. His dad, his grandmas birds, dinosaurs, and all sorts of wild and mysterious things. The way he focused on each picture, his little brow creased in concentration, was the most adorable thing ever.

There was a sweetness in the air, a peacefulness that made time fly by.

Jax pulls into his mom’s driveway, cutting the engine with a small sigh. He knew you were probably still here watching after Abel, but he still wasn’t sure how he felt about it. His trust didn’t come easy, especially when it came to his son. But serious shit had to be dealt with today, if it was any other day he would have never let it happen.

Swinging his leg off the bike, he spots your car parked in the corner. His trainers heavy against the gravel as he made his way inside, shutting the door behind him. The house was quiet, too quiet. His shoulders tensed slightly until he heard it. Abel’s laugh. Light and full, followed by a softer chuckle, which was yours.

Jax follows the sound, stopping just outside the living room. He leans against the door frame, watching.

Abel’s sprawled out on his stomach, surrounded by crayons and half colored pages, completely in his element. Next to him, you sat crossed legged, leaning forward slightly as you watched him draw, a small smile on your lips, you looked comfortable, as if you belonged there.

Jax wasn’t sure why that threw him off, but it did.

Clearing his throat gently, he makes his presence known. Abel’s head snaps up instantly.

“Daddy!” He launches himself towards Jax, who barely has any time to react. His tiny arms wrapping around his dad’s legs before he gets scooped up.

“Hey little man” he mumbles, ruffling his son’s hair. “You been good?”

“Uh huh!” Abel nods enthusiastically “y/n let me use the big paper! I drawed so much”

Jax smirks, his gaze finally shifting to you.

You had stood up now, brushing your hands against your jeans, an easy but slightly cautious smile on your face.

“I’m guessing you’re Dad” you say, tilting your head a little.

“Yeah...” he confirms “...Jax” he says, setting Abel back down, to carry on with his drawings.

“y/n…” your name rolls off of your tongue “…he’s a good kid” you say, looking down at him. "Appreciate this, by the way" he says, arms crossed leaning up against the frame again. "When my mom said she was leaving Abel with someone she met at the store... I wasn't exactly sold on the idea"

You laugh a little, shaking your head "Yeah, to be fair neither was I"

Jax chuckled at your confession, his eyes scanning you with amusement "You do this a lot?"

"What? look after random kids I barely know?" you smirk, placing a few crayons down in front of Abel. "Not really"

He laughs, "I meant the nanny stuff"

"Not for a while, not since I moved here, anyway" you let him know, moving closer to him now.

Jax nods, like he was about to say something else, but his words stall when he catches the way your expression changes. Your eyes locked onto something on him, your brows slightly furrowed as you stare at his neck.

It wasn't a questioning look, you were more confused.

Your eyes flick over to Abel, then back to Jax. You didn't say anything out loud, but your hand lifted slightly, your fingers grazing the side of your own neck, in a small and subtle gesture.

Jax, with a look matching your own, rubs the spot you motioned to. His fingertips coming back sticky and streaked red.

"Shit" he muttered under his breath. His tone was casual, but his posture shifted, his back was now stiff, as if he was waiting for you to say something. Maybe press him on what the hell he'd done.

But you didn't. "Uh...” you murmur, breaking the silence. "...You might wanna clean that up" you suggest, nodding toward the mess. He hesitated for a second, watching you, before tipping his chin upwards. "Yeah… sorry…uh…are you good if I handle this quickly? Wont be long, then you can head out"

"Yeah, sure" you said, your voice sounding even.

Jax lingered a little longer, waiting again for you to pry.

But still, you didn't.

You turn to Abel, scooping up another crayon like nothing had happened.

Jax exhales, running a hand through his hair before heading to the bathroom.

You look over your shoulder as he leaves, catching the bold letters stitched across his back.

'SONS OF ANARCHY'

Yeah, you think you're starting to see that.

You’d taken care of Abel countless times by now, whether it was at Gemma’s, Jax’s or even your own place. And now, as part of their inner circle, the clubhouse too. You were now aware of Jax’s role as president. You didn’t know all the details, but you understood enough, the good and the bad. You’ve spent enough time with Jax and the others, for them to now trust you completely. They’d protect you like one of their own.

And as for the missing mother figure, you’d pieced it together over time. Wendy, Jax’s ex wife, had let her crank addiction take over, and that was the reason she was no longer in Abel’s life.

You and Jax? Well, it had always been platonic, at least on the surface. But there was always this undeniable tension between you two, something neither of you could fully ignore.

Gemma would sometimes drop sly hints to Jax about the two of you, and the guys weren’t any better. They’d tease him, noticing the way you both looked at each other, how you’d get flustered in his presence and vice versa. It was obvious to everyone, expect maybe to you and Jax.

The platonic shit though? The lines started to blur the moment you experienced your first club lockdown.

𝘑𝘢𝘹’𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘈𝘣𝘦𝘭’𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘢𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥.

𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘮 “𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵… 𝘯𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘦’𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘦𝘥, 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥”

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 “𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵… 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵.

“𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸” 𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 “𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘐’𝘮 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘈𝘣𝘦𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶..” 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘴 “…𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, 𝘐 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶” 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘩 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳.

𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘢𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘩𝘶𝘨.

𝘏𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴. 𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦, 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴, 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘯, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦, 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢 𝘸𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘦𝘭𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘧𝘵.

𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘣 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴. “𝘛𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩?” 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘰𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘸.“𝘛𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘈𝘣𝘦𝘭… 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘦 𝘐’𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺?” 𝘏𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘥.

“𝘖𝘬𝘢𝘺” 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴.

The lines between you and Jax had slowly started to fade. The time you spent together had changed, deepened even. You no longer rushed out the door when Jax got home, instead you stayed. It wasn't always intentional, but somehow, you both found ways to stretch the time a little longer. You'd talk about everything. Life, relationships, a bit about the club here and there, but never too much, of course. Sometimes you'd share a joint together after Abel had fallen asleep. Other times you'd cook for all three of you, filling the space in the kitchen with jokes, the clatter of pots and pans, and Abel’s little laughs. One time, before you even realised, you were sitting closer to him, your legs brushing and his hand resting lightly on the back of your neck, pulling you into him. His kiss was slow, almost shy at first, like he was asking permission. When you didn't pull away, he made it stronger. His grip tightening around you, pulling you into him until there was no space left. One moment you were sitting side by side, and the next, you were straddling him, his hands firmly placed on the small of your back. His hips moved ever so slightly, a movement that had your breath catching in your throat. "Daddy!" Abels nightmare had broken the tension, pulling you both out of the haze you'd been caught in.

Since that night, nothing else had happened. Sure, there were moments, the flirtatious looks and the touches that lasted just a little bit too long. You both danced around it though, the tension always there, neither of you making the first move. Both in a stand still, waiting for the other to break.

Jax was laid back, his body heaving with pleasure. His fingers twitching at his side, almost begging his hands to grab you and guide you just how he needed you. He couldn’t see much, just the dim glow of light casting shadows from behind, but fuck he could feel you.

The warmth of your hands as they grip his thighs. The slow, slow, torturous movements that had his toes scrunched.

“Fuck y/n” he exhales, his head tipping back but his eyes locked on you. And you were looking right back at him, almost teasing, amused by how fucking wrecked he was.

His breath, now shaking. Your movements were so fucking slow, drawing out every second, focusing on his tip, making sure he felt every fucking thing.

And he did.

His stomach tensed, his thighs clenched, and that familiar pressure built deep and tight inside of him, felt like it was about to come to the surface.

He tries to keep his composure, but when you do that thing with your tongue it causes a deep groan to rip from his chest as he grabs the back of your head. His hard jaw clenched, his stomach locked up, and then…

His eyes snap open.

He drags a hand over his sleepy face. “Jesus fucking Christ” he grunts adjusting himself to an upright position. The room too quiet, the bed too empty.

Reality floods back with a jolt. He groans in frustration, as his boxers cling uncomfortably to him, warm and sticky like a fucking virgin.

Today was a big day, he had to ask y/n a favor, a huge fucking favor. How she’d respond? He had no damn idea.

So now wasn’t the time to be thinking about her like that, especially not after that fucking dream.

The phone call was short and to the point.

“Can you get here now?” His voice was firm, urgent but not panicked. Still, it was enough to make your heart race.

“Yeah, of course” you barely took a second to think before grabbing your keys and heading over. You assumed it was about Abel, maybe he was sick or Jax had to leave on short notice.

But when you arrived, Abel wasn’t there. Instead, Jax and Gemma were waiting for you in the kitchen.

Your steps come to a stop in the doorway, something felt off.

“Where’s Abel?” You ask, nervously looking at them both.

“He’s with Unser, sweetheart” Gemma’s says simply.

You swallow your nerves, slowly making your way deeper into the kitchen. “Have I done something wrong?” You question, confused as to what the fuck is going on.

“Shit, no” Jax laughs, shaking his head “Ain’t nothin’ like that, sit down darlin” he says, making his way over to the kitchen table.

Gemma exhales, tapping against the sink, watching as you get comfortable in your chair. “We need to ask you something. And before you say no, just…just hear us out okay” she joins you both now.

“Okay…” you say flatly, trying to gage from their faces what the hell is going on.

Jax ran a hand down his face, glancing at his mom before looking back to you. “There’s a strong chance me and some of the guys…will be doin’ some time”

Your breath stopped for a second, but before you could even react, he kept going.

“And if that happens, when it happens, I need someone here. Someone who Abel trusts, someone who won’t let shit fall apart” his Jaw flexes, “I want you to move in, whilst I’m in Stockton”

You blinked. “Move in?”

Gemma nodded, seeing your shock and also seeing how Jax didn’t know what else to say to you. “Take care of Abel, keep this place runnin’ till Jax is back”

Your mouth opens, and then closes. “That’s…” you shook your head a little “That’s a big fucking ask”

Jax sighs, running a hand though his hair “I know”

He knew it was insane, the moment Gemma suggested it, he knew it would be too much to ask of you. He had no right to ask you to put your life on hold for his, and for Abel.

But part of him knew just how better he would feel knowing it was you here with his son.

You sat back, exhaling “Jax… I have my own place, what am I suppose to d-“

“I’ll cover it” he said quickly “Rent, bills, whatever you need I just…” his jaw hardens again “I just need to know Abel’s safe”

You swallow hard, the sound causing Jax’s stomach to flip.

Gemma leans forward. “I’d do it, but I’ve got TM, gotta keep shit in line there. Unser’s listenin’ out for us. APB don’t go wide until the 23rd so we have some time to sort shit out if not…but you’re the only one who makes sense” her voice softens, “and you know Abel loves you, sweetheart”

You did, and you loved him too.

Jax was watching you carefully, but his gaze kept wavering. Your face, your mouth, the way your hands twisted in your lap. The dream was still fucking with his head, and now you were right in front of him, it was worse.

He pulled against his beard, waiting for you to speak, his leg bouncing slightly under the table. He wasn’t used to asking for help, wasn’t used to feeling like this.

“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate y/n” he rubs the back of his neck, voice quieter now.

Gemma sighs, standing up and smoothing out her jacket. "I'll let you two talk"

You watch on as she grabs her purse, giving Jax a look before heading for the door.

Gemma turns to you before she leaves "We know it's a lot..." she admits "...but you're family sweetheart" she exits before you can even respond, the second it clicks shut, silence settles between you.

"How long?" you ask, your voice steady but there’s no need to elaborate, he knows exactly what you're asking.

He lights a cigarette "Could be five years"

Your stomach drops and your chest tightens. "Five years?" You cant help the way your voice cracks, the gravity of his words sinking in.

He nods, seeing how shocked you are "Two, with good behaviour"

"Fucking hell Jax" you shake your head, your head now in your hands.

"I know…I know, y/n" he says quietly, as much as he wants you to say yes, if you don't he fully understands why. "You've already done so much for Abel... for me"

You look back up at him, feeling the weight of his words. Its not just a job, its not just responsibility, its trust.

"I mean it y/n" he continues, his hand now holding yours, his touch firm but warm, grounding you in the same way it always does. "I really fuckin' appreciate you".

You try to wrap your head around it all, but the doubt lingers. "What the hell did you do, Jax?" The question slips out before you can stop it, though you already know the answer.

He shakes his head, his voice firm "You know I can't tell you that"

His refusal hits you harder than you had expected, the anger in your chest now growing. "So, you want me to move in here, put my life on hold for at least two years, maybe five, and you cant give me anything?"

He stays silent, just staring at you. His eyes heavy but offering you no answers. This only makes it worse. You shove the chair back, getting up and then beginning to pace the kitchen. You come to a stop, leaning against the counter, your head facing the floor.

As you stand there, Jax can't help but notice the way your top rides up, exposing your lower back. His mind flashing to the dream he's been trying to push away. You turn around suddenly, as if you could read his mind. The weight of everything crashing down on you. The love for Abel is natural, easy. But Jax? Its more complicated than you've let yourself admit. You run a hand over your face, trying to steady yourself.

"I'll do it" you say, the words feeling heavier than you intended them too.

Jax doesn't say anything at first, but then he's stepping towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace. His arms wrap around you, secure and once again grounding.

His forehead presses against yours, his breath glazing your skin.

"Thank you y/n" he whispers, the words just for you but they hit so much deeper.

The house is quiet, the only sounds coming from the faint hum of the fridge and the occasional creak of the floorboards as you move around.

Most of your essentials are here now, scattered in half unpacked boxes, making the place feel something in between temporary and permanent.

Before Jax and the guys left for club business, he hovered, like he was reluctant to leave, the same way he gets when he doesn’t want to say something outright. He’d stood in the doorway for a second longer than needed, looking at you, and then his house, like he was trying to memorise how it looked with your belongings and you, inside.

“You good?” His voice was low.

“Yeah…” you look around, behind you “…I’m good”

His lips pressed together for a moment, then he nodded “Call if you need me”.

You huffed mockingly “Jax, I’ll be fine”

That smirk, the one that always got to you, tugged at his lips. “Yeah, but still”

He still didn’t hurry to leave, the others waiting for him by the side of the road. Instead, he took a step forward, without thinking twice about it, he leaned in and pressed a slow, warm kiss to your cheek. Not rushed, not just a goodbye. His way of showing you just how much he appreciates everything you’re giving up for him, and for Abel.

“I’ll see you later Darlin’” and then, he leaves.

The knock at the door comes about half an hour later.

You expect it to be Gemma with Abel, or maybe Jax doubling back because he forgot something. But when you pull the door open, it’s neither of them.

She’s tall, striking, and has her hair pulled back just enough to show off her sharp cheekbones.

Her lips part slightly, clearly not expecting you to answer the door, her voice carefully controlled. “Is Jax here?” You don’t move, “No he’s not” you offer nothing else.

Her eyes flick over you, and you can see the moment she registers that you’re not just some random guest. You’re here, in his house, wearing one of his tees, looking comfortable, like you belong.

She hesitates, her gaze looking past you as if she’s still waiting for him to appear from behind. When he doesn’t, her lips press into a thin line.

“Sorry… who are you?” She questions, trying to make sense of it all.

You lift your chin slightly “I could ask you the same thing”.

“I’m Tara” the way she says it, like it should mean something to you, but you don’t budge "Jax's e-“

Tara.

Jax had told you about her, not in great detail, but in passing. Late night conversations when it was just the two of you, when the club was quiet and he was a little looser with his words. He never spoke about her in bitterness. Just…restraint. Like he wasn’t sure what to do with the memories. You never pushed for details, you didn’t need them.

Whatever had happened between them though, you could tell she’d once meant a lot to him.

And now, here she is standing at his door…your door.

“Well he’s not here” you don’t let her finish her words.

She exhales deeply, clearly frustrated. “I just need to talk to him”

You squint your eyes, wondering if she’s struggling to understand you. “Like I said, he’s not here” you tell her, your voice dropping to a more serious tone.

No, technically Jax wasn’t yours, but you sure as hell ain’t having her thinking he’s available.

You stare straight through her, standing your ground, still unmoved.

She scoffs, before turning around without another word.

She’s trying to worm her way back at the wrong fucking time.

You’re already inside before Tara gets in her car, she moves quickly though, yanking open her car door and sliding in. Gemma pulls up just as the familiar car disappears down the street. The second she steps out, Abel on her hip, her sunglasses slide down the bridge of her nose, following Tara’s car with a look of pure disgust.

“Well ain’t that just fuckin’ perfect” she mutters, shifting Abel higher as she walks towards the front door.

Gemma lets herself in without hesitation, the second she puts Abel down, he’s off, running straight to you with that big dimpled grin of his.

“Hey honey” you speak, scooping him up effortlessly. His little arms wrap tight around your neck, and as you hold him close, you feel it. The weight of this decision, moving in here, making this place home. It was the right choice. Any doubts you had, long gone.

Gemma drops her keys onto the table, her eyes sharp as she turns to you “that who I think it was?"

You nod, grinding your jaw slightly. “Said she needed to talk to Jax”

Gemma scoffs, shaking her head. You can tell it’s more than just anger, it’s pain, deep seated and old. “She say what about?”

“Didn’t give her the chance” you say simply. “Just told her Jax weren’t in”

Gemma smirks at that, like she’s a little proud “good girl” the softness is fleeting though, her expression hardens again as she sighs deeply.

She bends down leaving a kiss to Abel’s head before leaning in to give you one too. A small gesture that means more than she’ll ever say out loud.

“You need anything? Gotta run to TM for a bit...I’ll let Jax know she’s back”

You shake your head with a small smile “we’re all good”

Gemma nods, satisfied, then ruffles Abel’s hair.

“Bye grandma!” He calls out, already too focused on emptying his toy box to look up.

Gemma laughs, shaking her head as she heads for the door, but before she steps out, she turns to look back at you.

“Don’t let that bitch rattle you”

It has been just over a week since you officially moved in and everything has fallen into place effortlessly. Jax offered to take the couch while he was still here, but of course, that didn't last. Every night, you ended up in his bed, cuddling under the sheets, both of you aching for more but neither of you willing to break first.

The kitchen feels like it’s holding its breath. Tara’s presence fills the space, but it doesn’t quite fit anymore. She came looking for him again ‘needed to talk’. Jax instructed you to stay down here, didn’t want you to think he had any intentions of swaying backwards.

You sit perched on the edge of the kitchen counter, legs crossed, Jax’s oversized tee just covering above your thighs, stirring your coffee with slow and deliberate movements.

Watching.

Tara leans in too close to Jax, her voice softer than necessary and her hand resting lightly on the table near his.

Too close.

Jax doesn’t entertain it though, he doesn’t give her shit. Just sits back in his chair, his expression unreadable.

“I heard about your upcoming trip” Tara says, clearly fishing for information.

“And who told you about that?” His expression dark, leaning back further into his chair.

“The town talks Jax, you of all people should know that” she says comfortably like she has a right to talk to him like that.

“Mhm” is all he hums in response.

“Just thought I should come and see you before…” she trails off, sighing.

Jax exhales sharply, his nose flaring “What are you really doing here Tara?” He questions, not amused in the slightest.

“I’m just saying Jax, I still care…” the scrape of his chair moving backwards drowns out her voice. He knows where she’s going with this and to be honest he doesn’t give a fuck.

Just as jax goes to speak, the front door swings open.

Gemma.

She steps inside, Abel clinging onto her hand. She takes one look at the three of you, eyes moving between Tara and Jax, then to you sitting calmly on the counter.

“Hi daddy!” Abel says, strolling over to him, hugging his leg.

“Hey little man, have fun at grandmas?” Jax says leaving a kiss to his sons head.

“Well” Gemma says, setting her purse down with a thud “Ain’t this a sight?” She laughs.

Tara straightens slightly, clearing her throat “I was just checking in on Jax”

Gemma raises her eyebrow “Right”

“y/n can we play now, I missed you” Abel says, moving quickly into your direction.

“Of course we can baby” you say, pushing yourself off the counter.

You look to Jax who’s standing to your left “I’ll leave you guys to it” you smirk softly.

Tara watching you both closely.

“Yeah” he whispers, brushing his hand against your thigh, leaving it there just a little too long. A simple touch, brief but purposeful.

And then, he kisses you, quickly, but it happens.

Gemma sees it.

Tara sees it.

His way of showing Tara, she has no fucking chance.

The clubhouse is quiet except for the murmur of low voices as the club members gather around the table, the weight of what’s coming hanging over the room. Jax needs to make some things clear before the shit hits the fan.

“We all know the deal” Jax starts, his voice firm, looking around the table, taking in each member’s face. “Some of us will be headin’ to Stockton soon, and it’s gonna get real fucking tight for a while. We need to be clear about what happens next and who’s doing what. No room for mistakes”. He lights his cigarette.

Chibs shifts in his seat, the tension evident in his posture “Aye, we’re ready for what’s comin’”

Jax nods. “Thank you brother”.

They continue to go over plans, outlining how things will run with half the club missing. The pressure of the situation hanging over them, and tying up loose ends.

The conversation shifts to their connections inside and what they can do to ensure their comfort whilst locked up. Jax stresses the importance of staying out of trouble, his voice stern as he makes it clear that he needs to get out the earliest he can.

Jax leans forward, his hands clasped together on the table as he looks around, making sure everyone can see how serious he is. “Gemma’s still runnin’ TM. Any problems, any bullshit you take it to her. She says jump, you ask how high” he doesn’t wait for confirmation, he knows they understand.

He exhales sharply, rubbing the back of his neck before he continues “y/n’s moved in at my place now. Taking care of Abel, looking after the house whilst I’m inside. Anything she needs, money, help, whatever the fuck it is. You make sure she gets it”

Theres a tick of silence before Tig smirks, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, about that… what’s goin’ on with you two? Huh? Cause she sure as shit ain’t just the nanny”

Jax rolls his jaw, trying to hide his laughter. “She’s takin’ care of my kid and my house. That’s what’s goin on”

Opie chuckles “Come on man. We’ve all seen the way you look at her, and how she looks right back”

Jax laughs, brushing off the questions completely, he didn’t know how to answer, because he doesn’t fucking know himself.

“Look I’m serious, I want someone checkin’ in on her every morning and every night. Gemma too. I don’t want either of em feelin’ like they gotta handle shit on their own. They ask for something? They get it, that clear?”.

A chorus of nods and muttered agreements follow, but the smirks don’t fade. The guys hear what Jax is saying, but they sure as shit don’t believe that’s all there is to it.

You unlock the door ahead of Jax, Abel asleep in his arms. Its the 22nd. His last night before the APB goes wide, before the cops come knocking, before the next few years of his life are ripped away.

The clubhouse had been a storm of booze, laughter and sorrow. Brothers saying their goodbyes, pretending this wasn't the last time they'd all be together for a long fucking time. Jax was thrown off completely when Tara walked in the door. Her voice dripping with fake sweetness, still trying to remind him of what they used to be. Her hand caressed his arm, her eyes searching for any trace of the love they once shared. But Jax had barely made eye contact with her. "Aint got time for this, Tara" He told her, before she left.

He had bigger things on his mind, things that actually fucking mattered. Like his son. Like you. Like what little time he had left before everything changed.

He pulled his Mother to one side before leaving. She cupped his face, her hands pressing into his stubble as she studied him "You come back to us whole Jackson, don’t you dare let that place break you".

Jax nodded, swallowing hard, his throat bobbing as he did so "I got this ma" he said, before pulling her into a hug.

Gemma looked over to you, a sympathetic smile on her face. "I'll be round in the morning sweetheart" Although it’s never been said out loud, Gemma could read Jax. She could read you too. She knew there was something more going on between you both. She was just waiting for someone to admit it.

It was a good night, emotional but for good reason. Jax had cut out early though, taking you and Abel home. He didn't want his last night of freedom to be a blackout blur, he wanted to remember it.

He carries Abel to his room, tucking him in one last time, for a long time. You stand in the doorway, watching the bittersweet moment unfold. Abel doesn't understand what's happening, doesn't know where Jax is going, only that Daddy wont be home for a long time.

You catch the glisten of a tear fall from his eyes as he presses a kiss to Abel's forehead "Daddy loves you" he whispers, before quietly climbing in behind him, holding him close to his chest, letting him fall back to sleep in blissful ignorance.

You wait for him in the bedroom, as he walks in, you rub his shoulders, feeling the weight of everything beneath your fingertips.

He shrugs off his kutte, melting onto the edge of the bed with his head in his hands, like the weight of everything has just fucking hit him.

You kneel between his parted legs, gently pulling his hands away from his face and holding them in your own, pressing them to your lips, your breath warming his hands.

“He’s gonna be fine Jax” you kiss his hand softly. “I promise” you look up at him waiting for a response.

He exhales, his eyes heavy. He knows. He’s always know. Abel loves you and you love him back just as much, he knows his son is in the safest hands.

“It’s not that, y/n. I know he’s safe with you, I just…” He exhales sharply, staring down at his hands in yours. His voice drops to a whisper. “Eight years old”.

You look up to him, your brows pushed together “what?”

He swallows, his throat stuttering. “If we do the full five years… he’ll be eight when I get out. He won’t even remember-”

“Stop” your voice is firm as you cut him off. “You’re not doing five years cause your ass is gonna be as good as gold in there…right?” You arch a brow at him, a small smile on your lips.

A quiet laugh leaves his chest. “Yeah” he nods, the tension in his face easing just slightly.

You push off his legs as you stand, slipping off your shoes before walking over to the mirror. As you unclip your earrings and wipe away your makeup, Jax doesn’t move, just leans back against his elbows, hands over his chest, watching you. Watches the way you move in his space like you’ve always belonged here.

His mind drifts back to the first time he met you, at his mom’s house. The day you watched Abel for the first time. He remembers how reluctant he was, how he didn’t want to leave his son with some ‘random chick’.

Now, he couldn’t Imagine anyone else.

“Jax, Abel’s asleep. Go back to the clubhouse if you want” you say, your voice softer than you intended.

You turn back, wiping your face with a cotton pad, trying to keep yourself together.

He doesn’t move. Just continues watching you. “Nah” he murmurs.“I wanna be here”.

There’s something final in the way he says it. You walk back over, sitting next to him, he sits up, joining you.

He’s looking at you, really looking at you, like he’s memorising every detail. Because this is it. The last time he’ll be this close to you for a long fucking time. The two of you have spent so long pretending, dodging around something that’s always been there.

“y/n…” he shakes his head slightly “I know I’ve already said it, but… thank you” his voice is raw “for doing this for me, for Abel” his eyes still locked on yours, glassy though, fighting back emotions he never lets anyone see. He tilts his head back, bringing hard trying to force the tears away.

Before you can even stop it, a tear slides down your own cheek, you wipe it away slowly. “I’m really gonna miss you Jax” you admit, your leg bouncing with nerves.

“Thank you for trusting me with him…” you let out a breath of laughter. “I love that little boy so fucking much”

Jax gives a small knowing smile. “I know” he mutters, his voice barely above a whisper. “And he loves you too”

Then, like he can’t hold it in any longer, like the thought of carrying this with him for the next few years is too much. He finally says it.

“So do I”

It’s quiet, almost hesitant, but his hand reaches for yours, his grip warm as always.

More tears well in your eyes, blurring the sight of him in front of you. He uses his thumb to move them out the way. You’ve waited for this, for so fucking long and of course it happens now, hours before he’s ripped away from you.

“I love you too” the second the words leave your lips, something heavy lifts inside you.

Like you can finally breathe.

He exhales, shaking his head, the slightest laugh leaving his lips as his thumb brushes over your knuckles, “I shoulda told you sooner” he confesses, his voice full of emotion. A tear slipping free before he wipes it away quickly.

“But fuck, I love you y/n” he’s staring at you deeply again. The airs thick with the confessions that have been left unsaid for too long. His blue eyes fixated on you, his chest rising and falling like he’s trying to steady himself.

He lets out a shaky breath, resting his forehead against yours. His hands slide down your back. “I don’t know how to say goodbye to you”

You swallow, “it’s not goodbye” you say, tapping his chin.

That’s all it takes.

He kisses you slowly, like he’s trying to memorise the shape of your lips, the way that you taste and the way you sigh into his mouth.

His hands begin roaming your body with slow touches, mapping you out, branding you in his memory.

He lays you back, hovering over you, his fingers tracing over your skin like he’s afraid he’ll never touch you again.

Maybe he is afraid, maybe that fear is sitting in his chest the same way it’s sitting in yours.

When he finally pushes into you, it’s slow, deep and smooth. Your wetness guiding him in like he belonged. His breath coming out in sharp, uneven exhales as he stretches you open, inch by inch.

A desperate moan escapes your lips, as your body adjusts to his size. Your nails digging into the reaper inked on his back. “Oh…fuck Jax”

His jaw stiffens at the way you say his name, like it’s the only thing holding you together. He rolls his hips, pushing deeper, pulling gasps from you. “Fuuck” he groans, his voice rough, almost pained but more in pleasure “you feel…so fucking good y/n” His arms tighten around you, like if he holds on tight enough, this moment won’t have to end.

Jax moves inside you with slow, forceful strokes. His hands gripping your thighs, fingers melting into your flesh. He’s pulling you closer and deeper. His eyes never leaving yours.

Each thrust sends waves of pleasure rolling through you. But it’s more than that, it’s the way his body fits against yours, the way he groans harshly every time you tighten around him. You don’t just feel him inside you, you feel him everywhere. The way his hands glide over your body, the way he breathes your name, the way he’s making love to you like he’d never get the chance to do it again.

And like the way he whispers ‘I love you’ over and over, each time more desperate than the last.

Everything is devastatingly perfect.

“Look at me” he groans, his voice deep and commanding. You throw your head back in pleasure, breaking the eye contact.

“Don’t look away” his lips brush against yours as he pushes in harder. His stare holds you captive, and the way he’s filling you, bringing you closer and closer, drawing moans out from within.

“Yeah? that feel good darlin’” his hips crashing into you. Your back arches when he adjusts his position slightly, pushing in from a different angle.

“Gonna…fuckin’ miss you… miss this” he mutters, picking up his pace now, his rhythm causing you to gasp for air, your walls tightening further around him. His eyes wincing in pure pleasure.

You can feel it building, that tight, desperate ache, and so can Jax. His fingers slide between you both, rubbing slow against your clit. You’re so fucking close now.

“Don’t…don’t stop Jax…fuc-” he covers your mouth, kissing at your neck.

“That’s it baby” his eyes boring into you, praising you as you fall apart beneath him.

“…Jax…I’m gonna” you were close, so fucking close.

“Not yet, darlin’” he grunts, pushing your legs up higher, hitting that spot that has your vision going white. “I wanna feel you cum with me. Wanna take that with me when I go”

It’s too much, the way he’s moving, the way his chain swings in rhythm to his thrusts, the way he’s looking at you, like you’re his, like you’ve always been his.

“Jax.. I….cant… I’m-” you’re struggling to maintain composure. and then it hits, your body spasming in complete fucking orgasm.

You cry out, gripping at the sheets, gripping at Jax, gripping at whatever the fuck you can. He’s just seconds behind you.

“Fuck, fuck, that’s it…” he groans, following you into fucking bliss. His hips trembling as he spills inside you. He collapses onto his forearms, his breath ragged, he’s a fucking mess, and so are you.

You both stay exactly where you are sweat and sex clinging to the air, your bodies moulded as one.

Tomorrow though, this bed will only contain one of you.

And the other will be behind bars.

The morning Jax left was fucking brutal. Abel didn't understand, and the confusion in his little eyes just about broke everyone's heart. Jax didn't say much, a kiss on Abel's head, a tight hug for his mom and then he pulled you in close.

The kiss he gave you was heavy, like he was trying to say everything he physically couldn't say out loud. "Take care of him" he whispered before adding "I love you".

You choked out the words, barely able to keep it together. "I love you too"

You stood there, holding Abel tightly, his little arms wrapped around your neck like he knew something was wrong.

You watched in silence as Jax swung his leg over his bike, the rumble of the engine cutting through the early morning fog. He didn’t look back, not at you, not at his mother or not at Abel. Just rode off towards the clubhouse, waiting for the inevitable. Gemma, stood next to you with her arms crossed, still silent, but watching.

She had always been watching.

She had saw the way you and Jax looked at each other, the way your hands brushed when no one was supposed to notice. Maybe she never understood exactly what it was between you two, but after hearing Jax tell you he loves you, and you saying it back, there's no question anymore. Whatever this was, it runs deep, and that meant she had something to protect.

Three months.

That’s how long it had been since you last saw him.

Three fucking months since he had you gripping at his back, struggling to breathe.

No phone calls, no letters, nothing. Just an empty bed. A quiet house, and Abel asking where his dad was every damn day.

Jax hasn't been allowed any contact for the first three months of his incarceration and rules were rules. Gemma, had her first visit last week, and finally it was your turn.

The second Jax walked in, he knew he was fucked.

Three months.

Three fucking months with nothing but cold walls, bad food and the memory of him making you moan playing in his head on repeat. He missed Abel, he missed you, he missed home.

And now you were right in front of him, sitting at that metal table looking so fucking good.

His golden locks, shaved down to a messy buzz. His jaw was sharper, covered in rough stubble. His blue eyes, darker. Heavy like he’d seen some shit you knew he wasn’t gonna talk about.

The second he reached you, his arms were around you. Holding you so fucking tight you could barely breathe, but it was perfect. His face buried in your neck, his fingers clenching your waist as if he was trying to convince himself that you were real.

“Missed you so fucking much” he whispered against your skin, his voice rougher than usual.

“Missed you too” you smile against his warmth.

A sharp voice cut through the moment.

“That's enough, Teller”

Jax exhales hard, his jaw tightening as he pulls back to sit down, following the orders from one of the guards. His eyes locked on yours, as you take your seat across from him, smirking and your eyes eating him up.

“You like it Darlin’” he asks, almost smug, running his hand over his head

Your lips curl into a smile. “I think I like it a little too much” you say, shifting in your seat.

He breaths deeply out of his nose as he adjusts in his seat, the heat spreading through his body “yeah?”

“Yeah” you repeat. Biting your lower lip, your eyes locked on him. Silent, but saying everything.

He knows exactly what you’re thinking, exactly what would happen if there weren’t so many eyes on you both. He lets out a low, rough laugh. Dragging his tongue over his teeth, his jaw tight. He shakes his head, rolling his shoulders as the frustration sets in.

Three months without you, without a real fucking touch. And now you’re right in front of him, looking at him like that, and he can’t do a damn thing about it.

It’s fucking torture.

You could tell Jax was trying to steady himself, the frustration simmering just beneath his surface. You decided it was time to shift the focus.

Give him something to hold onto.

“Abel’s doing well” you say softly, watching his face for a sign of relief. “Started preschool on Tuesday. He’s a little shy but he’s getting there” you laugh “the teachers love him, said he’s picking things up really fast”

Jax’s lips twitch nto a smile “that’s my boy” he mutters, but you could see the small flash of regret etched across his face.

“He talks about you a lot” you continue, leaning forward a little.

“Asks when you’re coming home all the time…we’ve told him you’re at the cabin...looking after all the animals” you laugh as the memory of Abel’s innocent excitement runs through your mind when you explained that to him.

His jaw goes stiff, his lips pressing into a hard line as he nods, taking in everything you’re saying. “Hate not being there” he sighs, rubbing a hand over his face.

Jax leans forward, joining you now. His hand instinctively reaching for yours, the desperate need to touch you evident in his eyes. But before he can even reach you, the same voice cuts through the air.

“Hands on the table teller! No contact!” The guard barks, his tone stern.

Jax gives him a death stare, before turning back to you, his palms laying flat against the cool table.

“You sure about this babe?” He leans forward, his eyes darkening.

“Sure about what?”

He sucks in a breath, now holding onto the sides of the cold scratched table. “about us y/n. You sure this is what you want?”

You stare at him, the gravity of the question hitting you hard. “I’m not going anywhere Jax…I fucking love you”

You want him. You want all of him. If that meant waiting, then it’s exactly what you’re gonna do.

His expression softens.

“I love you too babe” he whispers the words, low and certain. Like they were never in doubt. His fingers twitch restlessly, wanting to reach for yours, but he stops himself. You can see it in his eyes, the same look he gave you that night before he had to leave, he wants you.

“You know… when Gemma came to see me last week, she wouldn’t shut up about you. Said you’ve been handling things, taking care of Abel like he was your own… she’s proud of you y/n…I…fuck, I’m proud of you too”

You hesitate for a moment before your curiosity gets the better of you “Did Gemma tell you what Abel’s been asking?” You ask, your voice quieter now, like you’re unsure how to even bring it up.

Jax looks at you, a slight furrow in his brow, waiting for you to elaborate. You take a breath, not sure how Jax will react. “He keeps asking if he can call me mommy” you pause, then continue, almost sounding apologetic. “I said we’d talk about it, I didn’t know what to say to him Jax, I don’t wanna mess him up” you look up, waiting to see his reaction.

Jax leans back in his seat, his expression softening a little as he watches you. His hands rests on the table; his fingertips brushing against the cold metal. His eyes flicker over your face, like he’s trying to read you.

“I told you, y/n” he starts, his voice raspy “Abel cares about you. I’ve always seen it in him. He loves and trust you, big time”

You nod slowly, your fingers fiddling nervously. “I know” you say quietly “but I don’t want people thinking I’m overstepping or… trying to replace his…his real m-" Jax cuts you off before you can even finish the word.

His eyes narrow, but there’s still a hint of a smile. He’s leaning into you again, his elbows on the table. “Y/n you’re not ‘replacing’ anyone. If he wants to call you that, that’s on him, not you…” he runs a hand through his unkept beard before he continues “…and if he wants to say it, you don’t need to overthink it. You just… you just answer him”

You nod hesitantly at first, but then Jax’s words sink in. He shuffles forward again, his hands now gently resting on yours. When has he ever followed the rules?

“Hands, Teller! Don’t let me have to tell you again!”

Jax’s attention moves over to the guard. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t back down. His hands stay right on top of yours for just a second longer, then with a dramatic motion, he places them back on the table.

“Yeah, I heard you” Jax mumbles, his tone sarcastic. He looks away from the guard, attention back on you now.

“good as gold… remember?” You raise your eyebrow.

“I know babe, I know” Jax chuckles.

You lean in slightly, lowering your voice so only he can hear “You need to keep your cool, Jax” you pause looking around discreetly making sure no one else is listening in “the sooner you’re out, the sooner we can pick up where we left off” a filthy smile tugging at your lips, your eyes enforcing a challenge and you can see how it’s affecting him.

His eyes glaze over as he watches you, a low growl leaving him. “Fuck, y/n don’t start”

“What?” You tease, “what’s wrong?” Your eyes glinting.

He breathes sharp, his hands, now fists tap against the metal “y/n” he almost warns.

But then he breaks, “Can’t wait to get my fucking hands on you”.

You lean in a fraction closer, letting your words sink in deep "I need you so fucking bad, Jax" your tone laced with desire. Your leg slides subtly under the table, moving against his.

The forbidden touch heightened to the fucking max.

"Don't fucking tease me, y/n" he growls, looking over his shoulder, before snapping his attention back to you "You don't know how fuckin' bad I want you, I've been thinkin' bout that night for the past three months. The way you moaned my name, your pussy holdin' on to me so fuckin' tight" He tilts his head to the left, analysing your reaction.

You bite your lip, the words sinking into you, right fucking into you. His roughness, the way he talks about you, its making you fucking wet.

"You thinking about what you could be doing to me right now?" your wide eyes tracking his every movement. "Me bent over this table, your dick buried deep inside me?" You let your leg move again, knowing it’s driving him fucking wild.

His breath hitches as he struggles to maintain control, his cock pushing up into the fabric of his orange uniform.

He grunts hanging his head in complete desperation. "Fucking tease" he shakes his head, trying to think of anything but that. And just as the air between the two of you is about to combust, Jax's favourite guard pipes up.

"Visitations over!"

Jax looks up, noticing the other inmates and family members saying goodbye. He shoots you a look, shaking his head "This is fucking ridiculous" he mutters, he stays where he is, doesn't move. His body still stiff with unreleased desire. You hold back a laugh, standing up from the table yourself.

"You're gonna need to step away from the table, Teller" one of the guards orders, walking towards you.

Still, he doesn't move, his face flush as he takes a deep breath, his eyes burning into yours, full of frustration and unsatisfied need.

Reluctantly, Jax leans back. He's trying to hide it, but its too obvious.

The guard, close enough now looks down at him, then back at Jax's face, not even trying to hide his amusement. "Maybe hover for a sec, Teller, unless you want everyone to see how much you enjoyed yourself" he then turns to you, "Say your goodbyes, make it quick" You press in close, feeling every inch of him, it takes everything in him not to groan out loud.

His arms lock around you in a grip that says he’s not ready to let go, not now, not ever. His breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, raw and low. "I love you, y/n"

Your fingers dig into his back as you tell him the same.

Meaning every fucking word.

But then his lips brush your jaw “You do that shit again...” his voice drops even lower, pure fucking menace “...I don’t give a fuck where we are, I’ll make you feel me”

Before you can react, he crashes his mouth to yours, the kiss possessive and affectionate. "Enough!" The guards voice booms, He eyes you both up and down "You've had your fucking time to cool down, now get moving!"

And just as quickly, he pulls away, smirking as he strolls back to the doors, another night with you on his mind.

Life's been a constant blur of routine since Jax's been locked up. You've settled into the rhythm of taking care of Abel, making sure he's doing okay at preschool, watching him grow more independent by the day. There's been a lot of quiet nights, just the two of you. Abel watching cartoons while you sneak just the one glass of wine to take the edge off.

Gemma, she's been your rock, though at times it felt more like you were hers. The two of you had become inseparable, laughing over drinks and talking about everything and nothing. You'd never expected to get so close to her, but it felt good to have someone who truly understood the weight of what you were going through.

She sets her drink down, her voice low but direct, how it always is "So, what exactly is going on between you and Jax?"

You freeze for a second, caught off guard. Gemma's been quiet on the subject, never pushing but tonight, she just wants to know.

"I love him Gem..." you admit "…I'm here and I'm waiting for him".

Gemma's quiet for a moment, watching you carefully, but you see the understanding in her eyes "and he loves you too" she smiles.

Tara's still in town, still working at the hospital like nothings changed. You never say a word to each other, just quick glances, the tension thick as fucking smoke. Maybe she knows, maybe she doesn't either way, it doesn't fucking matter.

She's out of Jax's life now, and you aren't going anywhere.

Jax sat hunched on his bunk, the faint hum of the other inmates floating through the cells, the pen heavy in his hands as he tried to find the right words. It’s been just under a year since he’s been locked up.

Just beneath his ‘Abel’ tattoo,fresh, healing scars. Permanent reminders of the shit he’s been going through whilst in here. He finished up writing his letter, marking little pictures in the corners of the paper, this was new to him, he’d never written a letter to you before.

It wasn’t much, it didn’t need to be. He knew you’d understand. Jax pushed the pen down, finishing the letter with his name, before folding it and shoving it in an envelope.

It wasn’t sentimental, but it was real. It was all he had to give from this fucking cage.

He grabbed another sheet, this one dedicated to Abel.

Opie knocked twice before stepping inside, hands shoved in his pockets. Participating in the daily routine, one of the remaining Sons coming to check on you, like fucking clockwork. You were curled up on the coach, one of Jax's hoodies drowning you.

"Nice to see you too, Ope"

He ignored the sarcasm, taking a seat in the armchair across from you. "Gemma said you've been quite these past few days"

You shrugged "So?"

"Not like you" He gave you a concerned look.

"Just tired Ope" you exhale, rubbing your temples.

Opie leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I remember a time when you were just Abel's Nanny, Now you're livin' in Jax's house, wearin' his clothes, visitin' him in Stockton...like an old lady"

You gaze over to him, no words, just a hum in response, gripping the fabric of Jax's hoodie. Old lady The words repeat in your head, fuck, I guess technically, you are. Opie studied you for a long moment, and then finally nodded. "Alright" He stood, "Just dont lose yourself in all this shit" Before he leaves, Opie tosses an envelope onto the coffee table, the edges slightly crinkled. "This came to the clubhouse, but its meant for you" he says, his voice low, not as harsh as before. "From Jax"

You stare at the envelope for a second, Opie doesn't say another word, He gives you a quick look, then he turns to leave, giving you space to open it.

Jax had been in for almost a year now, and in all that time, there hadn't been a single letter. Just the occasional phone calls and visits. It was always you going to him, you waiting by the phone. But this, this was something new.

Photos & gifs used do not belong to me. Apart from being edited, and creating the letter (Well proud of that lol)

For the lovely @bonnyclydecat hope you love it! Ngl, as usual, I got carried away with the smut and feel like the fluff wasn’t enough, so apologies for that lol.

Also, this could deffo have a part 2? Like when Jax gets out of prison??? Alexa play Coal War by Joshua James 🤤🫶🏽

Jax Teller Masterlist

Please continue to send in requests, I’m getting through them one at a time 🖤

xoxo secretly samcro

#jax teller #sons of anarchy #jax teller one shot #samcro #charlie hunnam #secretly samcro #soa #jax teller imagine #jax teller x reader #jax x reader #sons of anarchy imagine #jax teller smut #jax teller x y/n #jax teller fanfiction

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laurfilijames · 1 year ago

Text

Bulletproof

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 3.1k

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

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Jax, what happened?”

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

“I’m fine.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

---

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