#soa x you

[drakoneve]

Long Run

request: Just something cute and sweet for tig with a gn reader, please? Anything, bro I'm starved.

pairing: Tig Trager x gn!reader

word count: 600+

warnings: mention of a cartel? typical club shit

a/n: I LOVVVEEEEE this man <333

Three years into your relationship with Tig, you should be more than used to long club runs. And, for the most part, you handled the separation well.

You could keep yourself busy with work, chores, and upkeep at the clubhouse with Gemma and Tara while the boys were gone but this work would only last so long.

Tiggy kept in contact as much as he could on the road with calling in between stops and in the evenings while on your drive home. There was the old "what happens on the road stays on the road" club rule, but since the beginning of your relationship Tig made a promise to be loyal to you and he'd yet to break it.

You'd known his reputation with men and women of loving and leaving them before ever getting involved with him, and so you'd made him promise.

This run is different, however.

The club made a special trip to Santo Padre on a favor to Marcus Alvares to help the local Mayans in town handle some cartel business, and before anyone knew it their one week in Santo Padre had turned into three.

It's why tonight you sat alone in the home you shared with Tig, cuddled up in blankets on his side of the bed watching old Criminal Minds reruns.

Being on his side of the bed, resting your head on the pillow seeming infused with Tig's favorite cologne (the one you'd been getting him since your first anniversary together), brought you the comfort of Tig while he was gone.

After several episodes and half a bag of popcorn later you'd finally begun to dose off when you heard it... the soft rumblings of an approaching motorcycle.

Out of habit you reached for the spare gun in the drawer of Tig's nightstand. Before him you had never shot a gun, but after the incident with Tara and Margaret being kidnapped incited Tig to teach you to defend yourself, which meant being able to use a gun if necessary.

You crept your way into the living room to peek out from behind the window curtains to see exactly who it was pulling up in your driveway.

Even though his helmet covered most of his hair, you could see Tig's small curls poking out the bottom, unruly as ever. He shuts his bike off and begins to remove his helmet and you decide you just can't take it anymore.

You abandon the gun in your hand on one of the couch end tables before heading out the door, barefoot and wearing one of Tig's shirts.

Tig raises his head when he hears the door, confused at first, but his gorgeous smile overtakes him as he realizes it's you coming for him.

You go as fast as your legs will carry you, throwing yourself against Tig's broad chest and wrapping your arms around his torso. His arms follow suit, wrapping around you and pulling you up off the ground for a moment before setting you back down, yet his arms don't release you.

"What are you doin' awake at this hour, baby?" he asks, voice muffled in your hair as he breathes you in. "You've got work tomorrow. Well, today, actually."

"Missed you," you confessed into his chest. Finally you bring yourself to pull away slightly, taking in Tig's face.

The bags under his eyes were slightly more defined than when you last saw him, but his blues sparkled down at you with excitement.

"You've been gone far too long, Tiggy," you scold playfully. "I don't think I'm letting you leave me ever again. I don't like it."

His blue eyes flicker over your face as his hands cup either side. "I don't wanna be away from you either, baby. You're everything."

Tig pulls you into a soft kiss. He never moves his hands from your face as he pulls away just slightly, resting his forehead against your own.

"Let's go inside, doll." Tig peppers kisses across your face. "I'm in desperate need of some lovin' from my baby, okay?"

"Mmm," you hum, unable to stop the smile spreading across your face. "I can't exactly say 'no' to that, can I?"

[theangelssing]

Good Evening

prompt: after a hard day with SAMCRO, Chibs could really use a shower, a dinner and your presence. Nothing else but a sweet evening with his s/o.

gender neutral!reader, third pov, Chibs & reader are a couple, reader is friend with Sons of Anarchy, 820 words

warnings: mention of blood, mc’s activites, nudity, smoking, drinking (wine) allusion of sexual activity, age gap, physical touch (romantic way)

a/n: small fluffy imagine with Chibs just bc I love him; don’t hesitate to send request for every character you want (:

masterlist - inbox

“Babe I’m home,” you heard Chibs’ voice across the small apartment you two shared. You got up from your bed you were sitting on and you came to meet a slightly bloody Chibs. “Not mine,” he just whispered as he saw you looking at him.

“You wanna talk ‘bout it?” you simply asked while you both were heading to the bathroom.

“Nope. Right now I want you and me in the shower,” he replied with a grin, which made you laugh.

“You never stop,” you said and he shook his head.

“Never, babe.”

Chibs kissed you, already undressing himself. You did the same, and the both of you went under the hot water. You were used to Chibs’ activities with the Sons of Anarchy. In fact, you were used to the charter’s activities. So when Chibs would returned at home all bloody after a day, you would not freaked out or complained. You would always stayed there for him if he wanted to talk, but you would never pushed him, only doing whatever the two of you wanted to enjoy your evenings.

After your shower Chibs was only wearing a towel around his hips while you were already wearing your pyjamas.

“What d’you want for dinner?” you asked him.

“Ye,” he replied, a crooked grin on his lips.

“Again? You sure you can handle that many rounds?” you were only playing with him, of course.

“Love, I migh’ be more than 15 years older than ya but I still can show ya who’s the boss here.”

He gave you a kiss and a small slap on one of your butt cheek, making you laugh.

“To be honest I’ll eat whatever’s left in the fridge and the cupboards. I think ya’ll need to run some errands tomorrow if it’s alright for ya.”

“Yeah no prob’ I’ll do it.”

You smiled softly, already busy finding what to cook. You knew Chibs could also cook, but sometimes you just like being the one cooking. While you were busy making dinner, Chibs would usually set the table and poured a glass of wine for the both of you, the smell of his smoke blending with the smell of the food.

After having put some sweat pants on, Filip returned in the kitchen, dinner almost ready. You didn’t do anything fancy, only spaghetti, but that was always great for him after a day working with the club. You put the plate before him as he was turning the tv on. You sat next to him and he gave you your glass of wine.

“What d’ya wanna watch?” Chibs asked.

“Let’s watch Pride and Prejudice!” you immediately replied.

“Again? Isn’t it like the third time in two month we watch it?”

“Yeah but I love it,” you said with big pleading eyes.

“‘kay but next time I’m the one choosin’ the movie.”

You smiled and went to put the dvd in the player.

It was your little habit. Just you two and a movie night, relaxing together. Of course Chibs loved to spend the night at the clubhouse but sometimes he was better alone with you than with the club. And sometimes he also loved having you around at the clubhouse. It all depended on his moods, yours, the day you both had. And right now, spending some time with your loved one, felt like the perfect evening.

“Aye, can’t get enough of that movie, can ye?” Filip put an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him as the movie just finished.

“I’m sure you love it too,” you joked.

“Kinda have too, after havin’ watch it that many times.”

Chibs laughed then kissed you and you went deeper in his embrace. You smelt his cologne mixed with the smoke and you felt at home.

He let a hand running through your hair and you stared at the paused screen in front of you. The black background was letting you see yourself in Chibs’ arms. You also could see his disturbed face and look.

“What’s going through that head of yours?” you asked, brushing his cheek with your nose.

“Too many things, babe. Don’t wanna upset ya with the club’s shit.” He kissed your forehead. “Jax’s a good president, I trust him enough.”

You nodded and kissed his cheeks. He lit a cigarette and you looked at him, only to meet his gaze on you.

“What?” you asked.

“Nothin’. Ye’re cute. What if we go to bed?” Chibs asked, a small and soft smile on his lips. You agreed and you both put an end – in your bedroom – to another crazy day.

You knew a small evening with you in his arms could make Chibs’ day better, so that’s what you did tonight. With him, you never felt the need to ask him about his day or about the club’s activities because he was the one to talk to you when he needed to.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Hi can I request a smutty 3/e/32 cause of the heatwave reader shaves Jax Tellers hair. She wears a tiny dress with nothing under it cause it's too hot. and while Jax is sitting there and she's standing in front of him doing her thing he's going insane cause of that dress and starts stroking her thighs n more which leads to sex in the bathroom 🥵🥰

Heatwave.

3. "Will you let me cut your hair?" + 32. "Can I touch you?" + e. Heatwave

Author's Note - this is a drabble written as part of my 500 Followers Celebration!! find that post here. my first ever Jax fic - god this man is so gorgeous !! anon, i hope you don't mind that i chose to cut his hair rather than shave it - because the idea of shaving his blonde locks breaks my heart honestly :( thank you for this request!! x

my other jax fic.

Pairing - Jax Teller x Female Reader

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut!! cursing

Word Count - 890

Masterlist. 500 Follower Celebration Masterlist.

You can't watch him struggle any longer.

Jax is in your driveway, working on his bike in the blazing sun. He's shirtless, golden skin on display, sweat dripping down his back. He looks like he should be on the front cover of a magazine.

You can see him becoming irritated. His hair keeps falling into his face, getting into his eyes. He repeatedly pushes it behind his ears, to no avail. It just falls again. You're worried he's going to pull it out in a fit of rage, honestly.

"Jax?" you call, rising from the porch to make your way towards him.

He turns when he hears you call his name, beaming smile on his face. The smile falters slightly when he takes in the sight of you. You're wearing a short, colourful sundress, material swishing around your mid thighs. It hugs your body in all the right places, thin straps revealing your lack of bra. He takes a deep breath upon your approach, begging his mind to stop racing with the filthy thoughts.

"Hi, darlin'," he drawls, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips. You're wearing your cherry lip balm, and it takes everything in him not to bend you over the bike right there.

"Will you let me cut your hair?" you ask sweetly, throwing your arms around his neck.

"You want to? Thought you liked it long."

"I do, but it's getting in your way. Just let me take a little length off? It'll stop it from falling in your eyes."

He smiles at the realisation that you've been watching him struggle and could no longer bear it. An angel, sent just for him.

"Okay, baby. Let's do it," he says, kissing you again. Abandoning his bike, he picks you up around the middle and practically carries you inside.

You pull a chair into the bathroom and gesture for Jax to sit while you rummage in the drawer for the hairdressing scissors. When you find them, you move to stand between his legs, big blue eyes watching your every step.

Jax places his hands on your hips while you run your fingers through his hair, combing it gently. You're deciding how much to take off, surveying carefully. You know he won't mind either way, but you still want to make it look good.

You start snipping away, ignoring the beads of sweat that are dripping down your back. It's the hottest day of the year so far, and your air conditioning can only do so much. You wish you could walk around with your shirt off like Jax. He probably wouldn't mind, actually.

His hands migrate from your hips to your thighs, stroking up and down gently. He's making it hard to concentrate, so you double down on your focus, determined to finish the job. Neither of you say anything about the way your breathing has quickened, or the way his is now deep and laboured. His fingers brush higher, and you put the scissors down on the counter.

"What are you doing?" you question teasingly, placing your hands on his shoulders.

"Just sitting for my haircut, ma'am," he answers cheekily.

"Do you try and put your hand up all of your hair stylists dresses, Jackson?"

"Wouldn't dream of it," he winks.

His eyes darken slightly as they rake over your body, up and down. He wraps a strong arm around your back, pulling you into him further. The other hand is still tracing patterns on your inner thigh. He dares to move it higher, and lets out a guttural groan at what he finds.

"Fuck, honey. Are you wearing panties?"

"Nope," you reply, popping the 'P'. "Too hot."

He rests his head on your stomach and trails his fingers along the crease of your thigh.

"Can I touch you?"

"You are touching me, Jax."

"No, baby. Can I touch you here? Please?"

To emphasise his question, he brushes his fingers over your clit lightly. You jolt at the sudden contact, throwing your head back.

"Yes, Jax. Please."

You're suddenly grateful for the grip you have on his shoulders. Your knees are buckling already, balance unsteady. God, this man knows how to play you like a violin.

"No more teasing," you pant. "Need you."

How can he say no to that?

He's fumbling to unbutton his jeans, pushing them down his thighs. He pulls you forward so you're straddling him, and lines himself up. In one swift stroke, you roll your hips downwards and he slides home, both of you groaning.

"Fuck, darlin'."

"Shit, Jax. Please."

You use his thighs and his shoulders as leverage, moving yourself up and down. He thrusts upwards, meeting your strokes, sending pleasure prickling down your spine.

"This fuckin' dress," he groans. You giggle, and the vibrations drive him wild.

He can tell you're close when your hips start to stutter, rhythm faltering. He doubles down, thrusting up with more force. Jax bites down on your shoulder, and it sends you over the edge, white hot and blinding.

Your climax triggers his, hips not stopping until you're both spent and boneless. Your foreheads are pressed together, panting.

"I'm gonna buy you a hundred of these dresses," he chuckles.

"Fine by me," you reply, kissing him deeply.

"Good."

"Might need one with sleeves, though. Something's gotta cover this bite mark."

[thisreadswhatever]

Only Mine: Part Two

find part one here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 2.2k

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, smut and more smut. unprotected p in v sex, oral m receiving, some almost getting caught tropes (kinda) and just jax having his way with you

[authors note]: so I wasn’t planning on making this a two part series but here we are! this is basically just pure smut but I owed it to you guys after that cliffhanger. thank you again to THAT anon for the fantasy that inspired this second part! it was too good not to write.

Your hands dug into the front of his leather cutte, weaving your fingers in between the cotton of his shirt. The only sound was the roaring of the bike beneath you, and the wind as it thrashed your hair into chaos against your helmet. You weren’t sure where you were going, but at this point you didn’t care. You squeezed your arms as they wrapped snug around him, tightening as he sped faster into the unknown.

Chibs followed just behind. They had been on their way to a Mayan warehouse earlier that night, before Jax decided to make a detour when he saw your car parked at the bar. When it was clear they had to go, you had begged Jax to bring you along. To your surprise, you had somehow convinced him. His dick was clouding his judgement, but you were both desperate to find an end to what you had started in the backseat of your car.

They parked the bikes in the back of a desolate warehouse, alongside a large empty truck. The building was fenced in with metal chain links and surrounded by broken security lights. From what you could see through the darkness, it was completely deserted.

Jax approached Chib as he rocked the kickstand on his bike as you waited patiently alongside his.

“Bobby and Juice on their way to the Clubhouse?”

Chib’s placed his helmet on the bike, “aye. Everything according to plan.”

“Alright, let’s get this done.”

Chibs placed his hand on Jax’s chest, “ye sure about bringing her? Could be here awhile pal.”

He knew he was right, bringing you with them wasn’t the smartest decision Jax had made tonight. He lit a cigarette between his lips as he walked back to you, “Just a straight forward drop off, Chibs. Stash the shit and get in the truck.”

Jax pulled you into him by the waist as you fumbled to undo the clasp of your helmet. His mouth pressed firmly against you, kissing you intently as his hands held your face to his. He watched you for a brief moment under him, your eyes staring up at him as he held your lip between his teeth. He broke only to smile widely down at you as he spoke, “c’mon, I got an idea.”

“We’ll be inside.” he called out, collecting a black satchel from the back of his bike. Chibs didn’t respond, only chuckling to himself as he watched Jax lead you away. “Kids.”

He pulled you through the warehouse by hand, obviously familiar with the surroundings. The building was dimly lit by a single light that shined from the entrance, just enough that you could see your feet beneath you as you walked.

You didn’t ask questions, just followed as he weaved his way through a thick maze of tall empty shelving units. He gripped your hand tighter as he pulled you into a small room cordoned off in the back of the building, housing the now derelict security unit and remnants of old office supplies.

There was a large display window that overlooked the majority of the warehouse, which would’ve been used to watch the ongoings of the building when it was up and running.

“Wait here.”

You obeyed his order, sitting on an old computer console that towered from the floor. It was just large enough that you could sit with your legs bent alongside it, straddling it beneath you.

The distant light was too far to aid in your sight as you attempted to watch him through the display window. Jax disappeared into the darkness of the warehouse. You could hear the sound of a door opening and closing from the opposite end of the building.

It felt like he was gone for eternity as you sat in silence, waiting for his return.

Suddenly an external door into the office opened, making you jump, and Jax re-entered, this time empty handed as the satchel he carried in with him was gone. He locked the door behind him. He moved toward you, now standing with his waistline parallel to your face. He was looking out into the warehouse from the side of the display window. “Just gotta wait for the pick up and then we’re out of here.”

“How long will we be? This place gives me the creeps.”

“Shouldn’t be long. Then I’m taking you home. We got unfinished buisness of our own, darlin’.”

Jax laid his hands to your cheeks, cupping your face upward to look at him. His thumb stroked your skin gently, as he peered down at you with hungry, desperate eyes.

“How ‘bout you just swallow my cock now to pass the time.”

You chuckled at his adavance, raising your eyebrows at the suggestion. “Here? What if someone comes in?”

Jax lowered himself down, forcing your head to turn on its side, as his lips pressed to your ear. He spoke slowly, unravelling you with every word. “Let them watch. I don’t give a shit. Your instructions earlier were very clear darlin’, you told me to take what’s mine. I’m going to take you, here and now. I’m going to have you where I want you, when I want you. You are mine to take, however the fuck I want.”

You nodded as he turned your face to his, your eyelids batting against your cheeks that were smushed beneath his hands. His thumb found entry between your lips and you instinctively opened your mouth wide for him. He smiled contently at how quickly you obeyed his silent demand. You held your tongue out, and he grasped at your jaw in response, turning your head side to side as he observed every inch of your face. “You are so fucking perfect. So fucking mine.”

You had never wanted him more than you did in this moment. You were prepared to beg and plead on your knees for his cock, you would do anything for it, and he knew it.

“Fill my mouth, Jax. Please.”

He leaned down to you as he unclamped the buckle to his belt, smirking against your lips as he placed them on yours.

He released his long length against your face, and you immediately took it into your hands. His head fell back as you stroked him intently, pressing the tip of his cock against your lips. You planted small, wet kisses against his shaft, as your hands caressed his erection. Once you’d kissed every inch, you took him into your mouth, forcing him in deeper as you pulled him in you by his unbuttoned jeans.

He groaned at the sensation of your wet tongue, circling his length before you choked at the fullness of him inside your mouth. There was nothing quite like gagging on Jax’s cock.

“Look at me when you take me”, he demanded. Your eyes trailed up to him as you swallowed his cock, drool dripping from your chin and down your neck. Moans escaped his gritted teeth and his hands entangled in your hair, collecting the strands into a ponytail behind your head. He tugged at the root to push you in closer, as he used your mouth over and over again.

“Get on the floor.”

You knew better than to question the order. You did exactly what he said, laying against the cold concrete floor that laid beneath you. He stroked his length as he stood above you, instructing you on every move to make.

“Take off your shirt and lay down.”

Once you were half naked on the floor, Jax lowered himself into you. His cock pressed against your waist, as he pulled down your jeans and panties.

“Spread your legs wide for me.”

Jax didn’t wait any longer. He encapsulated himself into your mound, opening your wet folds as he thrusted into you. A gasp escaped your throat as he entered, relief filtering through every inch of your core.

“Oh you’re still fucking soaked for me, babe.”

You couldn’t help but whine at the immediate pressure building between your thighs, desperately trying to hush your voice. It was near impossible to keep from screaming as the heat from your groin was burning to be released. You’d waited for what felt like forever since Jax had you in the same position in the backseat of your car, and the anticipation of being relieved was a feeling you revelled in. He grabbed your throat with his hand as you laid beneath him, your ass crushing repeatedly into the cold tile as he pounded into you.

“Remember what I told you earlier? While my face was covered in this perfect pussy?”

You couldn’t respond, let alone think of anything that happened earlier tonight. You groaned out as the length of his cock engulfed your insides, and hearing him talk this way was sending you over the edge. How the hell were you supposed to think?

“What’s wrong, darlin’? Can’t remember?”

“I can’t think straight- like t-this, Jax,” you admitted. You were staring into his eyes as he pounded into you, fighting the need for yours to roll in the back of your head.

“Let me help you.”

He sat you upright, his dick still embedded in your mound, as he lifted your legs, bending them against him. He pulled at your ass, bringing himself even further inside, the feeling of fullness overwhelming you. Your back was now arched against him, giving him full access to your clit.

“Fuck- not helping-“, you cried.

His hands travelled from your ass to your cunt, circling his fingers over the swollen nub, while he fucked you into oblivion.

“Jax- oh my go-“

He smiled as he watched you lose yourself in your climax, succumbing to his cock. His head fell back in pure bliss as he felt your orgasm squeezing him.

“I told you, you’re mine.” His cock pushed further into you as his hand tightening around your neck, the skin turning a shade of red at the force.

Your head nodded violently, “I’m yours-“ you somehow managed to muster out, your voice cracking under the pressure of your orgasm and his hand around your throat.

Just as Jax was going to unravel with you, you were interrupted by the sound of the main entrance door opening, followed by footsteps. “Did you hear that?”, you whispered.

Jax leant backward enough for him to peer over the display window. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness to realise who the intruders were. It was Bobby and Juice.

“Is it Chibs? Do we need to go?”

Jax looked back down at you, sprawled half naked against the floor and completely, totally his. Seeing you this way, he couldn’t of cared who entered the warehouse, he was going to finish claiming you no matter who watched. He gleamed at the sight of your flushed pink cheeks and hair utterly strung awry, all the result of his doing. “Oh no, darlin’. I’m not finished with you yet.”

His cock found your entrance again, sliding into your dripping mound as he bit back a groan. “You feel so fucking good- taking me so well-“

You tried desperately to suppress your scream, failing as a squeal slipped through your lips.

Jax quickly placed his hand over your mouth, and you were thankful for the aid in silencing your whimpers. He roamed over your body and face, watching as pleas left your eyes, begging in desperation for another release. His lips pulled into a devilish smirk as he lowered himself completely into you, forcing his cock to push even deeper into your mound.

You groaned into his hand, his hips finding a way to submerge even further into your core. Jax was enjoying every moment of this, watching as your composure expired around his cock, while he never wavered, just holding himself there within you.

“You gotta be quiet for me now, darlin’,” he murmured slowly into your ear. “Can you do that for me?”

You nodded at his request, struggling to move from the weight of his body pressing against you. His hand tightened around your mouth as tears began to stream from your eyes, overwhelmed by the urge to stay silent against the extreme fullness you were enduring.

The footsteps grew closer, as Jax pushed deeper and deeper into you with each thrust.

You could hear Bobby lowly calling out, “Jax, where you at?”

He ignored his calls, focused entirely on you beneath him. Nothing else mattered to him but the way you felt wrapped around his cock.

He was relentless, repeatedly finding a new depth with each thrust into you. His hand stayed out against your mouth, and you bit at the skin to suppress the groans that couldn’t be muffled. He quickened his pace, and your fingers squeezed at the leather of his cutte as you found your final climax. Jax hunched his back, bringing his face to yours as he found his release with you, filling your aching cunt with his seed.

When he recovered from his end, he began to trail plentiful kisses from your chest, and up your neck. He paused at your jawline as he pressed a tight smile against your skin, nibbling at the flesh.

“You’re only mine.”

find my masterlist here

[marvelous-slut]

Revenge - Happy Lowman

No lie, Better than Revenge by Taylor Swift was the inspiration for this! Lmao. Hope you all enjoy xx

Being the sister of Jax Teller had some advantages, you got to spend lots of time at the club house. Lots of time talking up the scariest member or the MC, Happy Lowman. There was something about him that you couldn’t shake feelings for, you didn’t know if it was that he was mysterious and quiet, or that he’d kill at the drop of a hat. It gave you a strange feeling in your stomach thinking about having him as yours, how you’d never have to worry about anyone coming for you because they’d have to pay the price with him.

Those thoughts all were nice while they lasted.

You walked into the clubhouse, it’s early in the morning and you decided to bring breakfast by. Jax always complimented your cooking and once Happy tried it he did too. “Makes me think of my mommas.” He would say. You see Jax sitting on the bar stool, cigarette in hand.

“Hey sister.” He says, reaching out his hands to grab the platter. He knows what you’re about to ask and he doesn’t want to tell you what he knows.

“Hey, you seen Happy?” You ask, feeling that funny feeling turning in your stomach. He sighs, deciding he should say nothing instead of lying or telling the truth. You look at him puzzled, until you see who comes down the hall. Ima. She’s wearing Happy’s gray reaper shirt, smiling as she knows what she’s done. She can see the hurt all over your face. You and Ima haven’t gotten along since you told her she was a skank and to leave Jax and Tara alone. This was her way of giving you some pay back. She would come to the club with Lyla, seeing how you swooned over Happy. How the light shined in your eyes when you talked to him.

“Good morning!” She says, cheerful to see the pain she’s caused. Jax shakes his head and puts out his cigarette.

“Go get your shit and get the fuck out.” He says to her, you can’t stay here any longer. You dart out the door, ready to be home. Once you get to your car, you ponder for a moment. No, she will not get the best of you. If you knew how to do anything, it was how to get the last world. The last laugh. You grin, thinking of the perfect way to give her some pay back.

It is a bright and sunny day in Charming, a perfect day really. You head down to Luanns porn studio to extract your revenge on Ima. The brownies in your hands are still fresh, topped with a bow and a card you had Jax write out. It reads “for someone special.” No name mentioned, but you knew Ima would get a kick thinking a man had took time to bake for her. Really, you had done the baking, cracking eggs and measuring flour perfectly. Cutting up the chocolate laxatives so fine you would never be able to tell they were a special add in. You sit the brownies in-front of her door and knock, running off. It’s about an hour before she’s due to shoot, you know she’s going to eat one because as you’ve seen at the clubhouse she can’t resist chocolate sweets. Just like she couldn’t resist a man in a kutte, or a man who had an old lady. She’d be drawn to them like flies to shit.

The shoot begins, it’s your average porno shoot. Guy and girl, nothing special. Before Ima can move, you see the look on her face. You know the laxatives have hit her stomach, making it rumble. Before she can go anywhere, brown liquid run down her leg and so do the tears from her eyes. You smile, watching the chaos unfold. “Ew!” Her partner for todays shoot yells out, running away from the havoc her bowels have let out. She shouldn’t have fucked with your brother and his family, but she definitely shouldn’t have fucked with what was yours. Well, what you were trying to make yours. She’s screaming as she runs back to her room, hopefully she’ll be on the shitter for hours.

“My my, my sister is an evil genius.” You smile at Jax, patting him on the shoulder.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about Jackson!” You smirk as you speak, smiling softly. He lets you read a message from Tara.

“So proud of her. Getting some revenge for the both of us.” It reads. You smile, you were glad to give Ima a small form of payback. Gemma and Tara shooting up her car obviously didn’t send the message to her, and maybe this wouldn’t either but you felt better. You feel your stomach sink as you see Happy approach you. You want to run away, but you stand as still as a statue. He walks over to you, standing in-front of you, unsure if he was angry or somewhat amused.

“That you?” He asks, word travels fast at the club house. Especially when Tig sees some drama unfold. You assumed he had let Happy know about your tears and running out when you saw Ima in Happys shirt.

“Guess she has a bad stomach.” You say, he smirks, putting his arm around you.

“You know, all you had to do was say you wanted to be my old lady.” You perk up, looking at him with a smile plastered all over your face. “I don’t show emotions good, don’t read them well either.” After Tig informed Happy of the morning incident, he knew why you were so upset. It had to be because you had feelings for him that you hadn’t expressed. “Come on girl, let’s go back to the club house, smells like shit in here.” You giggle, walking along side of him with his arm reach over your shoulder.

“Oh God! Come on people, it’s a bodily function!” Luann yells out, trying to get her actors and actress under control.

“Yeah, but my bodily function ain’t ever come out like that!” Bobby shouts out as the MC chuckles behind him.

Revenge. It’s a sweet, sweet thing.

[bullet-prooflove]

Valentine's Day Bingo: Moment - Filip 'Chibs' Telford x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @chaoticqueenie98 @thatonesexycancerian @fanfic-n-tabulous @redpoodlern @kishie8 @skyesthebomb @thanossexual @nu1freakshow @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @jtelford @deliriousfangirl61 @@lora21 @darqchilddaydreamz @ankhmutes @goblinenby @just-a-girl-who-wrytes @lexondeck @adaydreamaway08 @keyweegirlie @joyfulfxckery @oklahomapeach @fleureeee @goosterroose @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @ambassadortotrilliusprime @legally-a-bastard @wnbweasley @justreblogginfics @multiflixshelves @kmc1989 @@katriina-74 @trublu2u @@fictional-fantasy @courtney-elizabeth93 @fanfic-n-tabulous

Hitting the Secret Relationship Bingo Square

Chibs doesn’t tell anyone about your relationship, the fact that he spends most nights in your bed, tangled up in your sheets, enjoying you. It’s better this way, he thinks, for you and for him. You’re in the midst of a messy divorce and he refuses to let Clay have that leverage over him.

It’s been six months since you’d left your husband, since Chibs had helped you move your stuff to your new place a couple of blocks from your office. You flourished in that time, going from strength to strength.

You both don’t put a label on what you’re doing, in fact you don’t talk about it at all, not when he brings you coffee in the morning and not when you make him breakfast. You fall into an easy companionship. It surprises him how quickly he takes to the domesticity.

You’re riding him tonight, your thighs straddling his hips as that sweetness encompasses him. His palm rests on the back of your neck, thumb chasing over the hinge of your jaw as he thrusts inside of you with short punctuated strokes. His cock brushes over that filthy little spot inside of you, the one that sends ecstasy chasing through your synapses as he fucks you and the noise you make, it ruins him.

His forehead comes to rest upon yours, his breathing ragged as he looks into your eyes. He wants you to know how he feels, that this goes beyond fucking. It’s love but he can’t tell you that, he won’t ever tell you that.

He says your name when he comes, his face buried in the curve of your throat as he spills himself inside you because the way you grip him, it makes him feel like he’s seen God himself.

You’re wearing his shirt when slip from the sheets in the aftermath, padding quietly towards the kitchen. It’s the sight of you wearing his clothing that changes everything, it satisfies a primal instinct deep inside because for a moment it doesn’t matter than you’re still married, that his club owns every part of him. You’re his and he's yours, that's all that matters.

Love Chibs? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[witchthewriter]

𝐏𝐎𝐕: You’re Jax Teller’s Old Lady - this is what your photo album looks like. 

(the first photo is framed and hung in your house) 

[sogoodtoheritsvicious]

Jax Teller relationship hcs!

warnings: None.

a/n: No gifs are mine unless stated otherwise!

• Who said “I love you” first? Jax did! You guys had been dating for a few months at that point and he just knew. He said it while you guys were on a date at the beach.

• Who would have the other as their lockscreen? You would and the picture is always being updated! Right now it’s a picture you snuck of him while you guys were baking.

• Who leaves notes on the bathroom mirror? You both do! Cute little things like “love ya!” “lookin’ good!” “have a great day!”, just things to make the other smile.

• Who brings the other souvenirs from the places they visit? Jax does! He obviously travels a lot more than you because of the club and he always makes sure to bring you back keychain or a postcard from wherever he stops!

• Who kisses the other awake in the morning? you do. that man is NOT waking up til noon unless he has to lmao

• Who surprises who at work with lunch? it’s usually you but on rare occasions jax will be the one doing the surprising!

• Who was nervous on the first date? him, surprisingly!

• Who kills the spiders? oh, that is all jax!

• Who loudly proclaims their love while drunk? he does and it makes you blush every time, doesn’t matter how many times he does it. the guys always tease him the next day but he feels no shame

[drabbles-mc]

Nowhere To Be

Opie Winston x F!Reader

For one of my favorite people, @justreblogginfics with the prompt: The party was great but now it’s time to find their way home, in the middle of the night in the freezing cold in high heels and a party dress.

For @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo 2023 prompt: New Years

Warnings: 18+, language, implied/referenced smut, pining

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: I have missed Opie so much, so thank you for giving me the inspo and the opportunity to write this fun little somethin' for him! Happy New Year! 🥰💖

SOA Taglist: @espieviolet99 @littlekittymeow @i-just-read-stuff @fuckyeahopie @withmyteeth @buckybarneshairpullingkink @paintballkid711 @jitterbugs927 @fanfic-n-tabulous @mijagif @frattsparty @choochoo284 @artemiseamoon @darqchilddaydreamz @nessamc @garbinge @winchestershiresauce (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“It is cold in California!” you said, exasperated.

Opie chuckled as he stood beside you. Part of him wanted to make a comment about the fact that you knew that, that you’d grown up in Charming just like him. Sure, you’d been on the East Coast for a few years but it wasn’t nearly long enough to wipe your memory clean of it. Plus, you’d been back in Cali long enough to have not made this mistake—you were just too tempted by the idea of a party and getting dressed up and going out.

He wanted to say all of that, could have, but instead he just said, “Yeah, it is.”

Turning to face him, you huffed out a sigh. “Why is it cold in California? I thought it was supposed to be all beaches and sunshine here.”

“You probably wouldn’t be so cold if you didn’t—”

“I look good,” you cut him off, knowing exactly where his sentence was going. “That’s not the issue here.”

“I mean,” he shifted so that he was pressed closer to you, his fingertips dragging up the side of your leg that was left exposed by the short dress that you’d worn to the party, “this feels like it might be part of the issue.”

You rolled your eyes, glad that you could say the goosebumps breaking out over your skin were because of the cold and not because of the feelings and thoughts that were coursing through you at just the slightest touch. Despite your initial impulse, you swatted his hand away.

“You didn’t seem to think it was much of an issue about an hour ago when we snuck off to the bathroom and—”

“Alright,” it was his turn to cut you off, chuckling as he did so.

He shrugged off his leather jacket, one of the million layers he always seemed to be wearing whether it was the first day of January or the last day of July. He held it out for you to take and for as much as you liked giving him a hard time, you weren’t quite committed enough to that endeavor to turn down the opportunity for some extra warmth. You snatched it out of his hand and slipped your arms into the sleeves, feeling relief not just because you immediately felt warmer, but also because the jacket smelled like him and there was comfort to be had in that too.

“Thank you,” you said, leaning into him, hands pressed against his chest.

He smiled. “Welcome.”

You tilted your head just a little farther back so that you could get a better look at him. He had one arm draped around your waist, hand resting on the small of your back. His other hand was placed on your hip, not holding you too tightly but it also would’ve taken some effort if you really wanted to pry yourself away. Not that you had any interest in that.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked.

He scanned your face for a moment, wishing that he had any idea at all where your next sentence was going to go. He knew what he wanted you to say next, but he also knew better than to hold his breath over it. Plus it was New Year’s Eve, or rather New Year’s Day by hardly an hour. And you were drunk not just off the alcohol you’d both had all night but also from the energy of the party. He knew better than to get his hopes up, and yet.

“Confessing crimes already? Year just started,” he joked.

You laughed and shook your head. “No, no crimes.” You leaned a little more onto him, taking the weight off one of your feet. “Ugh, these heels are killing me. I can’t even think.”

“Yeah, I don’t think that’s why you can’t think.”

You laughed, giving him a playful shove. “Shut up.”

“What’d you wanna—”

You cut him off, not meaning to, but you were already moving onto the next thing. “We gotta get back to the hotel. Because if I have to stay in these shoes any longer, I’m gonna,” you laughed, “then I’m gonna commit some crimes to confess to.”

He chuckled. “You remember how to get back?”

You turned and looked at him. You tried to hold in your laughter and failed. “No.”

He wanted to be annoyed but he had sort of seen it coming. It wasn’t surprising, to say the least. “This was your idea,” he teased as you pulled out your phone.

You waved him off. “Going out was so much easier before.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?”

You looked up from the GPS on your phone for a moment so that you could look him in the eye. Keeping your tone and facial expression as serious as ever, you said, “Because all the streets in New York are fuckin’ numbered, Ope.”

The statement hung in the air for a second between the two of you before you both started laughing. Opie shook his head at you, knowing that if it had been anyone else he would’ve left them to their own devices awhile ago. But it was you. He wasn’t going anywhere if it was you.

By the time you got yourself somewhat back under control, your GPS had loaded directions for how to walk back to your hotel. Lucky for you, it wasn’t as far away as you thought that it was going to be.

“I got it,” you said as you showed him your phone.

“Let me see that,” he replied, reaching to take the phone from your hand.

You swatted him away. “Hands off! You don’t think I know how to get us back?”

He raised his eyebrows slightly. “You want my real answer to that?”

You rolled your eyes. “I know how to follow a map.”

He shook his head, reaching for your phone again. “You don’t even look like you know how to follow a sidewalk right now.”

You gestured angrily at your heels. “That’s because of these shoes. Honestly, you might just have to carry me back.”

He chuckled, following behind you as you set off down the sidewalk in the direction your map was telling you to. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You looked over your shoulder at him. “That, or you can just drag me behind you like a caveman.”

He fell into stride next to you. Draping his arm over your shoulders, he said, “That sounds more like me.”

“Yeah, goes with the caveman beard you’ve got going on now,” you joked, reaching and toying with the ends of his beard for a moment. It was so much longer than it had been the last time you were home. Jury was still out on how you really felt about it—it took away the last of his baby-face.

He shook his head, knowing that you were always going to come up with something to give him grief about. Of the many things that had changed over the years, that was something about you that had remained constant. Infuriating and amusing all at once. He let you have that.

“Stick around long enough and you’ll get used to it,” he finally said.

“I told you,” you leaned deeper into his side for emphasis, “I’m back for good.”

He liked the sound of that, but he knew better than to buy too heavily into it. He pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head. “We’ll see.”

“Where else am I gonna go?” you asked, your mock offense not landing the way it should’ve when you were nearly tripping on the gaps in the sidewalk concrete.

He steadied you without having to give it a second thought. “Don’t know.” He chuckled. “Right now I don’t even think you’re gonna get us back to the hotel.”

You gave him a shove, not enough to really make any difference. Even on your best day in much steadier shoes it would be difficult to get him to move if he didn’t want to. All the Winston’s were like that. Your half-attempt only served to make him pull you tighter into him, which worked better for you anyway.

His hand was still resting on your shoulder, fingers pressing into the leather of his jacket that was yours for the present moment. Like it was a reflex, you reached up with your free hand and threaded your fingers with his as the two of you walked. You gave his hand a light squeeze as the two of you reached the end of the block. You gave him no warning that the two of you were turning rather than continuing forward and using the crosswalk. You knew it, too, laughing as you made a sharp right turn and pulled him with you.

You were lucky enough to catch him mid-stride, knocking him just enough off-kilter to make him follow your lead. You hadn’t been expecting it to work, and you nearly stumbled and fell in the process. Laughing, you took another half-balanced step until you felt your back rest against the side of the brick building behind you. Opie had followed your steps, his palm bracing against the wall beside your head, one leg positioned between both of yours. Your shoulders shook as you tried to hold in your laughter, your face heating up so much you were certain that if Opie touched you, he’d be able to feel it.

You placed your palm against his chest. There were words caught in the back of your throat, things that you wanted to say, things you’d been wanting to say all night, but you couldn’t get them out. You opened your mouth, hoping that would force them out, but all that came out instead was laughter that faded into a hum as you tried to get yourself under control.

When you finally resigned yourself to not being able to say anything, you slid your hand up from his chest so that it was on the back of his neck. You pulled him down into a kiss, one that he gave into easily and eagerly, pinning you between him and the wall behind you, his hand that wasn’t bracing him against the wall gripping tightly onto your hip.

His hand slid down from your hip onto your thigh, and he was about to start sliding it right back up and underneath the thin fabric of your dress. You could feel it in his movements, the way that he had to convince himself to stop. You couldn’t help but to smile into your kiss, eventually letting the laughter bubble over when he pulled his lips off of yours.

Your body was still pinned, not that you had any desire to really be anywhere else in that moment. You let your hand stray from the back of his neck. Your fingertips ghosted along his cheek, brushing along the edge of his beard. Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

“Never gonna make it back at this rate,” Opie finally spoke up, not that he really seemed like he was in any great rush to go.

You laughed, head resting back against the wall behind you. “Got somewhere else you need to be?”

He smiled, shaking his head before snagging another kiss from you. “No. I got nowhere to be.”

[drakoneve]

Destined Meetings

request: Hey, do you think you could write something where the reader is related to tig somehow, and they're in charming for work or college and they start a relationship with juice? Cute and a little angsty at first?

pairing: Juice Ortiz x Trager!Reader

word count: 1.9k

warnings: club crimes, reader's mom isn't the best + suggested childhood trauma, alcohol and drug (maryj) use

a/n: there will be another part for sure, but i might make this a bit of a mini-series, lmk what you think. happy reading!

Tig hardly ever talked about it, but he'd been married once. He would rather die than ever admit he loved anyone but Dawn and Fawn, but he loved her. And you, his sweet, sweet Y/n.

His heart clenched at the thought of you. You were only two years old at the time of the accident. The day your mother decided she had had enough of Tig and the life he came with and that she needed to run.

It was that day, when your mother pulled out of Charming and never looked back. She only made it two towns over before she took a reckless turn right off an overpass into oncoming traffic.

Tig could remember the look on Unser's face as he approached the older man in the TM parking lot like yesterday, and how he wished he could go back and convince your mom not to go. Or to leave you, at least.

Unser had just began working with the club back then, and this case in particular had always stuck with him. A woman trying to escape her outlaw husband with their baby daughter who ends up getting into a horrific accident that ends up killing them both? One of the saddest stories Unser had ever heard.

Except for the fact none of it was true.

Because there you stood, alive and well, right in front of the Chief's desk.

"I know it sounds crazy," you shake your head, hopeful look on your face. "I wouldn't believe it either, actually. And I don't really have any proof other than my memories, but I'm sure it's him."

The aging polaroid in you had provided him of a much younger Tig and a woman he recognizes to be your mother back when she was pregnant with you.

"No, no," he waves your worries away. "I believe you. In fact, I remember your mother, vaguely, and you look a lot like her."

You grimace. "Yeah, I've been told a few times. So do you know where I can find Alexander?"

Chief Unser pulls a pen from his shirt pocket and begins writing on a slip of paper on his desk. "This is the address of the Teller-Morrow, the automotive shop your dad works at. I would take you there myself, but I'm swamped here."

"Oh, it's no issue," you shrug and take the slip of paper. "I can get there myself. Thank you for everything, though."

You turn and begin to leave when Unser calls for you to stop.

"I forgot to mention, your dad goes by 'Tig.'"

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ ✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧ 

Juice stretched out his arms and popped his neck while he wiped his hands with a rag. Two weeks of waiting for one part was finally over, and he could get this damn Taurus out of the shop. He tossed the rag into his toolbox when a sleek black car comes rumbling into the lot.

He leaves the garage to get a closer look and notices the car is actually a classic, a well taken care of (or well restored) '69 Chevy. While he admires the car he notices you, too.

Your hair is partly clipped back, with enough loose enough to frame your face in a casual look. You're pretty, and admittedly he'd be more distracted by you but Juice can tell by the look on your face you're nervous. Juice would know, it's a look he's had to learn to hide.

By sight and sound nothing seemed to be wrong with your car, and Juice can't help but wonder why you're here.

You shut the engine off and exit your vehicle, all the while silently composing yourself. Heart thudding in your chest, you wonder if you're doing the right thing.

Juice takes the moment you shut the door to approach further.

"Hello," he greets politely, friendly smile on his face. "I'm Juice, and I'll be taking care of you today. What seems to be the problem?"

"Oh, no," you shake your head and laugh nervously. "Nothing's wrong with her. I'm actually-"

You pause, close your eyes for a second and bite the inside of your bottom lip. Juice can't help but watch you fondly, finding you oddly adorable.

Finally you open your eyes and flash a bright, genuine smile.

Damn, I'm made, he thinks.

"This is gonna sound completely insane," you explain, nervously clasping your hands together. "But, um, I'm looking for Alexa- well, no, Tig, Tig Trager."

Juice raises his brows. "Tig? Uh, I don't know if now's the best time."

It's true, he's currently in Oakland with Jax and Chibs on quick business.

"Look, I know it's inconvenient and you don't know me," you plead. You're closer now and Juice can smell your sweet perfume and practically feel your hopefulness. "But until a couple months ago I had no idea my dad was even alive. And then I found out I was here for weeks before realizing he's here, too."

Your dad? There has to be a story there. Juice raises his hands to either side of your arms, holding you still in hopes to assure you.

"It's okay," he says sternly, but in an endearing way. "Tig's not here right now but he should be soon, so let's head on inside and you can tell me a little bit about you. Just to be sure, no offense."

You smile, relieved to be believed to some extent rather than none. "Thank you, Juice. Thank you."

Juice leads you into the Teller-Morrow through the garage entrance into the larger building. From what you could see on the outside you wouldn't have imagined such a spacious clubhouse inside.

Inside were several pool tables, a couch with mini pieces about, a bar with stools, and other tables each with their own set of chairs. Decorations littered the walls and floors and you laughed to yourself as you noted a nearly full ashtray on almost every surface and a wall completely dedicated to mugshots.

Juice leads you to the bar where he gestures for you to sit as he makes his way around. You slip onto a stool and watch patiently as Juice finds two glasses and turns to you.

"What's your preference?"

You shrug, "Whatever, I'm not partial. On the rocks, though."

He serves you and pours his own drink before setting the bottle down and leaning on the bar on his elbows in front of you.

"So tell me about you," Juice presses softly. He can tell by your fingers circling the rim of your glass that you're not excited for this conversation but he has no choice. "You said you've been here for a few weeks, where'd you live before?"

"Nevada, mostly," you tell him before sipping on your drink. "My mother moved us around a couple times and we lived in Colorado for a while before eventually settling in Sparks."

"Why'd you guys move around?"

You drain the rest of your drink quickly in hopes it'll support you through this conversation. Juice begins to refill your glass without being asked.

"I didn't know it then, but my mom was running from the Sons," you confess.

Juice's eyes widen slightly as he looked you over. What could you know about the club? They were notorious around Charming sure, but with their recent run ins with the ATF has the club struggling and making choices they wouldn't normally make.

You continue, "It wasn't until I graduated high school and I left that she told me my dad was actually alive. Then she told me about the Sons of Anarchy, and everything else I did on my own."

Juice nods, unsure of what to say. He nurses his drink for a moment before reaching for your hand.

"This life is complicated, but we're a family here."

The gesture, simple as it is, riles up all the pent up feelings you've mastered all your life comes rushing forward as tears brim your eyes.

"Family," you repeat and pull your hand from Juice to wipe your tears. "What a weird concept?"

The two of you talk well into the evening and you end up migrating to the couch with a bottle and a large bowl of buttery popcorn. Juice made good company. He's genuine, gunny, and from the way he talks you can tell the Sons are something special to him.

He tells you about himself in turn for the vulnerable information you've given him. You learn he was born and raised in New York before coming to Charming, and he has a little sister behind in the city. Juice tells you he works in the TM garage alongside what he does for the club.

"I'm not stupid," you tell him once you notice his hesitance. "It's not hard to find information on the club from the locals around here."

He chuckles softly, "Yeah, I'm sure. If you have any questions, you can ask me."

Before you can the rumbling of bikes coming into the TM parking lot distracts you. Instinctively you grabbed Juice's hand, but let go just as fast as you'd grabbed him. Luckily before he can say anything the door bursts open and income more Sons.

The first is a younger blond man with piercing blue eyes and you notice the President patch on his left. He greets Juice happily before his eyes look to you, and he looks confused but seemingly brushes it off and goes to the bar.

Your dad walks in near arm in arm with another handsome man with scarred cheeks, obviously older than he is in the polaroid you own, but otherwise he seems the same. Its as if he can feel your gaze as he turns to meet his blue eyes to your own.

You stand, trying to ignore the thumping of your heart in your chest. "Hi, Tig," you greet, silently cursing the waver in your voice. Immediately the polaroid is out of your back pocket and in your hand. "My name's Y/n, and my mom's Y/m/n."

He takes the polaroid from you without a word and holds it carefully in his hands. His friend has stepped away towards Juice, likely for questioning.

"I saw Unser earlier today," you continue on. "He told me that I have a grave here in Charming, so does mom. Funny, considering she always told me you were the dead one."

You take a shaky breath in, trying to keep from bursting into tears. "I just... I wanted you to know I'm not dead, very much alive. I don't, like, expect anything from you I just knew I had to say something."

Tig finally breaks away from the polaroid to meet your eyes again, and it makes you feel a bit better to see his blue eyes are as tear filled as your own.

He raises one hand to cup your cheek, thumb moving to wipe your tears. "Losing you was the worst pain of my life," he admits softly.

His words crumble your resolve, the walls you'd spent your adolescence building to protect yourself fell faster than they were constructed. You practically fall into his arms, and the two of you break down as you hold each other.

As you sob into Tig's chest he merely cradles you the way he wishes he'd been able to all these years. The way he deserved to have been there for you. He holds you tight against him like he's afraid you'll dissipate and it'll be decades before he sees you again.

"We're gonna be okay, baby," he tells you. "We're gonna be okay."

This time, he's not going to be letting you go so easy.

[charmingsoa]

✶ Where the Wild Things Are: Two ✶ ■ 1960s Sons of Anarchy story ■

⌃ Jax Teller/ OC x Thomas Teller/OC ⌃

Warning: Please read with caution. This story will include: drug use, physical, verbal, and sexual abuse. miscarriages, sexual content, alcohol use, homicide, cursing, etc. ★ If You would like to be tagged in future updates, simply leave your username in the comments.

Taglist: @oskea93, @keyweegirlie @ravennaortiz

As the California sun beat down on me, the wind whipping through my hair as I rode on the back of the motorcycle, I couldn't help but reflect on the narrow-minded beliefs my parents had instilled in me and my brothers. Growing up in a conservative household where conformity and judgment were the norm, I had always been taught to view anyone who rode motorcycles as nothing but trash – individuals destined for the depths of hell.

My parents, staunch believers in their own sect of holy rollers, held strong prejudices against those who lived differently or held alternative beliefs. They saw the world in black and white, with no room for shades of gray or understanding. But as I clung to the back of the driver, feeling the freedom of the open road beneath me, I realized how misguided their teachings had been.

The rider in front of me, a stranger whose name I learned was Tig, exuded a sense of liberation and rebellion that I had never experienced before. The rumble of the engine beneath us seemed to drown out the judgmental voices of my past, and for the first time, I felt truly alive.

When the group first pulled up in front of me, I didn’t know whether to take their offer or run for the distant hills. Growing up, the horror stories of gangs kidnapping young girls and doing the unthinkable were ingrained in my psyche as my mother preached of their dangers. She would spew words of hatred and fear whenever the topic arose, warning me to steer clear of any suspicious-looking individuals or groups that might pose a threat.

As I stood there, frozen in indecision, the leader of the group stepped forward with a smile that seemed almost too friendly for someone in his position. His eyes held a glint of mischief, but there was something else there too – a hint of vulnerability that I couldn’t quite place.

"Hey there, don’t be afraid," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle. "We’re just a group of travelers looking for some company on the road. We mean you no harm."

I hesitated, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Should I trust this stranger and accept his offer of companionship, or should I heed the warnings of my mother and make a run for it? The decision weighed heavily on my shoulders, the consequences of each choice playing out vividly in my mind.

In the end, curiosity got the best of me, and I found myself nodding hesitantly, agreeing to join the group on their journey. As I climbed onto the back of his bike and we set off down the road together, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was embarking on an adventure that would change my life forever.

As we finally started to slow down upon entering a small town called Charming, I couldn't help but notice the reactions of the locals as the bikes rumbled past. Pedestrians on the sidewalk stopped in their tracks, their eyes widening with surprise and disapproval as they watched the group pass by. Disapproving looks were etched on their faces, and I could almost feel the judgment radiating towards them.

The quaint shops and cafes that lined the main street seemed to quiet down as we rode through, the sound of the engines cutting through the peaceful ambiance of the town. I could see the whispers and sideways glances exchanged among the townspeople, their curiosity mixed with a hint of fear or disdain.

The men didn’t seem to mind the disapproving looks from the townspeople – smirks on some of their faces as they revved their engines a little more as they passed by. The sound of the engines roared through the quiet streets, echoing off the old brick buildings that lined the road.

As they pulled into a side entrance of a garage, I knew this was officially the end of the line for them. I watched as they parked side-by-side, each backing their bikes into their assigned spaces. The engines sputtered to a halt, the sound gradually fading into the background as the men dismounted and stretched their legs.

I quickly gathered my things, removing myself from the bike, my legs feeling equivalent to jelly as they gathered the strength to hold up my weight. The adrenaline that had fueled me through the ride was now dissipating, leaving behind a feeling of exhaustion and exhilaration.

I leaned against a nearby lamppost, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. The men exchanged nods and grins as they gathered in a loose circle, their leather jackets creaking slightly as they moved.

One of them, a tall man with a patchwork of tattoos covering his arms, pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket and offered them around. The faint smell of smoke mingled with the lingering scent of gasoline, creating a heady mix that hung in the air.

As they lit up and took long drags, their faces relaxed into expressions of contentment. The tension that had hung over them during the ride seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of camaraderie and shared purpose.

The door to the business slowly opened, an older woman stepped onto the concrete below. Her presence commanded attention, exuding a sense of authority and confidence that made it clear she was not to be underestimated. The leather pants she wore hugged her figure, accentuating her strong and graceful movements as she made her way towards the men.

Her blonde highlights caught the sunlight, creating a halo of shimmering gold around her head. Despite the warmth of the day, there was a coolness in her gaze that hinted at a steely resolve beneath the polished exterior. I observed from a respectful distance as Gemma interacted with the men, her gestures filled with warmth and affection that spoke of deep bonds and shared history. She moved among them with ease, exchanging hugs and kisses that spoke of a familial closeness that went beyond mere camaraderie.

A tall man approached her from behind, his presence exuding a sense of quiet strength and authority. He wrapped his strong arms around her small waist, drawing her close in a gesture that was both protective and intimate. The woman’s laughter rang out, a clear and joyful sound that seemed to light up the space around them.

Their lips met in a brief but tender kiss, a display of affection that was unapologetically open and genuine. There was a sense of ease and comfort between them, a connection that ran deep and unspoken, forged through years of shared experiences and challenges.

My eyes moved away from the couple as the door reopened, this time revealing a blonde man. He looked to be in his early 20s – shoulder length hair resting against his work shirt. I don’t know how I looked to those around, but it was almost like how a cartoon character’s draw drops to the floor – he was gorgeous. I watched as he stepped off the stoop, sauntering over to the circle of men, clapping them on the back as he welcomed their return.

I was so caught up in the enigmatic presence of the blonde man that I failed to notice another individual had quietly slipped into the corner with us – the older woman with a knowing smile playing on her lips. Her voice, smooth and seasoned, cut through the hazy atmosphere around us.

"You lost, kitten?" she inquired, her tone a curious blend of amusement and concern. Her eyes, framed by fine lines that whispered of wisdom and experience, held a glint of something indefinable, as though she saw more than just the surface of things.

Startled by her sudden appearance and the unexpected nickname, I turned to face her, momentarily at a loss for words. The air between us crackled with a kind of unspoken understanding, as if she could see right through the facade I presented to the world.

“Sorry-“ I stammered. “I – uh-“

A smile spread across her face as she placed her hand on my arm, her touch warm and comforting. "You must be the little one the guys picked up on their way home. Tig told me all about you when he called a little while ago."

Memories of when we stopped at the gas station hours before came flooding back – the smell of gasoline, the flickering lights, and the sound of chatter from the other customers. I remembered my eyes connecting with Tig’s as he spoke animatedly in the glass box, his voice carrying a sense of urgency and excitement.

"What’s your name, sweetheart?" the woman asked, her eyes kind and curious.

Tucking a loose red strand of hair behind my ear, I replied, "Catherine. Catherine Landry." My voice was low, almost a whisper, as if unsure of my own presence in this moment.

The woman's smile widened, a glint of recognition flashing in her eyes. "Catherine Landry," she repeated softly, as if savoring the sound of the name. "Well, it's a pleasure to meet you, Catherine. I'm Gemma."

As I started to speak, the sound of gravel crunching beneath heavy steps caught my attention, drawing my gaze away from Gemma. I turned, my eyes following the path of the approaching figure with blonde hair that glinted in the bright sunshine.

He walked with purpose, his strides confident and measured, his presence commanding attention. The gravel shifted under his weight, creating a rhythmic pattern that seemed to echo the beating of my heart.

As he drew closer, I noticed the intensity in his gaze, the way his eyes seemed to search and assess, taking in every detail of the scene before him. There was a certain magnetism about him, a silent strength that seemed to radiate from his very being.

Gemma's expression shifted slightly, a flicker of recognition crossing her features as she greeted him with a nod. "Hey baby," she said, her voice warm and welcoming.

As the two embraced one another, I stood there, a silent observer to the intimate moment unfolding before me. The man's eyes remained fixed on me, a hint of curiosity and something else I couldn't quite decipher lingering in their depths.

Gemma's arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her embrace filled with a sense of familiarity and comfort. There was a closeness between them, a bond that seemed to transcend words and time.

I watched as they held each other, their connection palpable in the air around them. It was as if they shared a history, a story that only they knew, leaving me on the outside looking in, a stranger to their world.

As they finally pulled away, a silent understanding passing between them, the man turned his gaze back to me. There was a question in his eyes, a silent inquiry that hung in the air, waiting to be answered.

As Gemma turned her attention back to me, her warm smile lighting up her face, I couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions swirling within me. "Catherine," she began, her voice filled with a sense of familiarity and fondness, "This is my son, Jackson."

Jackson. The name echoed in my mind, stirring something deep within me. I looked up to meet his gaze, finding a pair of eyes that held a hint of curiosity and a touch of amusement.

Gemma's introduction caught me off guard, her words painting a picture of me as a lost soul in need of rescue. "She's the little thing that Tig and the guys picked up along the way," she explained, her tone lighthearted but tinged with a hint of motherly concern.

I couldn't help but inwardly roll my eyes at her explanation, feeling a twinge of annoyance at being likened to a stray puppy. It was true that I had found myself in an unexpected situation, but I was no damsel in distress in need of saving.

As I exchanged greetings with Jackson, a sense of curiosity sparked within me. There was something about him, a quiet strength and a depth in his eyes that hinted at hidden layers beneath the surface.

Jackson smirked and his eyes roamed up my body, a wave of self-consciousness washed over me, causing a slight flush to rise to my cheeks. His gaze held a hint of mischief and confidence, leaving me momentarily flustered in his presence.

"It's nice to meet you too," I replied, trying to maintain a composed demeanor despite the flutter of nerves within me. There was something magnetic about Jackson, an undeniable charm that drew me in even as I felt the weight of his scrutiny.

Gemma's proud voice interrupted the moment, drawing my attention back to her as she spoke of her son. "Jax is the leader of the group," she said with a hint of pride. "Along with my other son, Thomas." The revelation that there were two brothers leading the group took me by surprise. “Club comes from a strong line of Teller men," Gemma continued, her tone filled with reverence and hope for the future. "Hoping to continue that tradition in the future." She affectionately patted Jackson's chest, her gesture a symbol of both maternal pride and a legacy to uphold.

Jackson rolled his eyes at his mother's suggestion, a hint of amusement danced in his gaze.

"Trust me," he stated, his deep voice carrying a sense of authority that cut through the air, "She's really the one in charge."

The bond between Jackson and Gemma was palpable from the very beginning. It was clear to anyone who observed them that they shared a special connection, a closeness that went beyond words. Jackson was the one closest to his mother, their relationship built on a foundation of trust, understanding, and unwavering loyalty.

In contrast, Thomas seemed to be as far removed from Gemma as possible. There was a distance between them, an unspoken divide that hinted at unresolved issues and unspoken tensions. While Jackson and Gemma thrived in each other's company, Thomas seemed to seek solace elsewhere, distancing himself from the intricate web of relationships that defined their family dynamic.

Jax and Gemma's bond ran deep, a complex tapestry of emotions that intertwined their fates in ways that were both captivating and destructive. They fed off each other's energy, their connection fueled by a sense of mutual need and dependency that bordered on obsession.

Thick as thieves one moment, brutal enemies the next, their relationship was a rollercoaster of emotions that played out like a high-stakes drama. Time slipped away, leaving behind a trail of unresolved conflicts and simmering tensions that threatened to erupt at any moment.

The heat that Gemma placed between her two sons was a double-edged sword, igniting a fire that fueled their passions and their conflicts in equal measure. Theirs was a relationship fraught with complexity, where love and loyalty mingled with jealousy and resentment, creating a volatile mix that kept them locked in a perpetual dance of push and pull.

Thomas felt the weight of his mother Gemma's favoritism like a heavy chain, binding him to a perpetual cycle of disappointment and resentment. From a young age, he watched as Gemma showered his older brother Jackson with praise and attention, leaving him in the shadows of Jax's achievements. Despite his best efforts to earn her approval, Gemma's preference for Jackson was unwavering, creating a toxic atmosphere of rivalry and animosity between the Teller brothers.

"So, from what I heard, you’re hitching to San Francisco?” Gemma spoke as she looked at me with curiosity. “What’s so important down there that you had to leave home for?” She pushed past her son, taking hold of my arm as she started walking up towards the building.

“From the looks of you-“She did a once over. “Looks to me like you’re running away from something – midwestern lifestyle, perhaps?” Gemma's keen observation caught me off guard, her words cutting through my carefully crafted facade. I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze, feeling exposed and vulnerable in a way I hadn't anticipated.

I cleared my throat nervously, feeling the weight of my confession hanging in the air. "My parents are very conservative – conservative and very religious," Her eyes closing in understanding, Gemma listened intently as I opened about my inner conflict. "They're lovely people – " I began to backpedal, feeling a need to qualify my earlier statement. "But the life I want to live doesn't match with how they want me to live. I want to be able to be free and do what I please, but they're all about the image and how the Lord wants us to live our lives."

"You ran away?" Gemma's voice was filled with concern and empathy, her eyes searching mine for answers.

I nodded slowly, the memories of that night flooding. "Left in the middle of the night after my father beat me with a switch," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. My eyes cast down to the ground, unable to meet Gemma's gaze as the shame and hurt of that moment washed over me once again. "He called me awful names, and my mother just sat there and watched."

Gemma's back straightened, a steely resolve entering her expression as she processed my words. "Doesn't sound to me like they're lovely people," she stated firmly, her voice tinged with indignation.

I shrugged my shoulders, “That’s just how they are – been like that my whole life.” I knew I shouldn’t be making excuses for them, but they were my parents. “I’m the only daughter – I was supposed to be the epitome of a perfect daughter.”

“What could be so bad that your daddy beats you?”

I watched as she pulled out a cigarette, gesturing for me to take one as well. She quickly lit the end of the stick, the smoke invading my lungs with ease. “I started messing around with boys at an early age – sex, drugs, dancing. Sex was my go-to though. They didn’t want their only daughter being known as the town whore, which I guess I became. I was supposed to save myself until I was married – only letting my wedded husband lay between my legs.”

Gemma chuckled, a wry smile playing on her lips. "Sounds a lot like my folks," she remarked, her voice tinged with a mix of resignation and humor.

"I just needed to get away, and after seeing all those people on the nightly news coming out here and living life their own way and being free and peaceful –" I paused, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air. "I just need that in my life right now. A life where I can be free and do whatever I want to do. And if that means I have to do negative things to get to that place, then so be it."

As I spoke, I felt a mix of determination and uncertainty churning within me. The longing for freedom and self-expression had grown into a burning desire, fueled by the stories of those who had dared to defy conventions and carve out their own paths. The allure of a life unbound by limitations and expectations beckoned to me like a distant star, promising a sense of liberation and authenticity that had eluded me for so long.

“You know –“Gemma started. “The Frisco area isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” Her tone matter of fact. “I know it looks all peace and love on the tv screen but it’s really just a bunch of homeless hippies that are looking for attention and free handouts.”

I let out an annoyed sigh.

"Listen, little girl," her voice took on a more serious tone, the lines on her face softening with a mix of concern and affection. "You've accomplished the biggest goal you set for yourself – you made it all the way to California." She paused, letting the significance of the moment sink in before continuing.

A wide smile slowly spread across her face, reflecting pride and admiration. "By what you just told me, that was the ultimate goal. Now, I know going a little further south for the whole peace and love movement was the next quest, but I think for your sake it would be better for you to stay here."

“I don’t know anyone here, though.” I was grasping for excuses.

Her face twisted in a mix of concern and determination. "You weren't gonna know anyone down there either." She tossed her cigarette down, the ember extinguishing under the pressure of her heeled shoe. "You've managed to meet a whole crew of men that will now look after you if you choose to stay. You've met me and Jax – you'll get to meet Thomas when he decides to come home. You're no longer around strangers, baby doll. We can be your family – a family that'll treat you right."

Her voice softened, the edges of her tough exterior melting away to reveal a deep sense of care and protection. "We've seen the world through different lenses, faced our own battles, and carved out our own paths in this chaotic dance of life. But amidst all the chaos, we found each other – kindred spirits bound by shared experiences and unspoken connections."

The older woman's eyes held a glimmer of hope, a silent plea for understanding and acceptance. "You have a home here, among friends who will stand by you through thick and thin, who will lift you up when you stumble and celebrate your victories as their own. Take a chance on us, darling. Let us be the family you never knew you needed, but always longed for deep in your heart."

I would end up staying in that small fucking town for the next 25 years – my whole world coming to revolve around the Teller family and the Sons of Anarchy.

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

a whiskey with jax teller pleaseeee just him being a little shit during a hot sex bc hes jax ofc theres so little writing about him and yours is fuckin phenomenal <33

Relentless.

warnings - smut. cursing. jax and his filthy mouth.

you're so lovely - thank you!! this man's middle name is mischief. I just know he'd be a fuckin menace in bed.

3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.

"Shhh darlin'. You don't want them to hear, do you?"

You wish he'd thought about that before he'd linked his fingers with yours and led you through the clubhouse, whispering something about having to have you now.

"This was- fuck- your idea, Jax," you pant, gripping the sheets beneath you.

He's got you practically folded in half, his body cloaking yours, weight pressing you down. He keeps tilting your chin up to look at him, slapping your cheek gently when you close your eyes. He wants to be your sole focus.

Little does he know, he always is.

"Oh, come on. Like you didn't want it as bad as I did."

He has this tone, when he's fucking you. It's low and it's menacing and it's rough around the edges. It's lethal.

He punctuates his words with a particularly deep thrust of his hips, a surprised moan leaving your lips before you can stop it.

"You wanna get us caught? Huh?"

He thinks he feels you tighten around him, so he tests his theory.

"Or maybe that is what you want. I see the way you look at Chibs, honey. Do you want him to hear? Come and see what all the noise is about? Join in, maybe?"

You clench down, back arching at his dirty stream of thoughts. He chuckles, getting the exact reaction he wanted.

"Filthy fuckin' girl. You want your president and your vice president to fuck you together? At the same time? Talk about club bonding, huh?"

Jax grips your chin in between his fingers, forcing you to look at him. His hips never cease their relentless rhythm, stars floating in your vision. You open your mouth, and he spits right into it, winking when you swallow.

His other hand moves to your throat, gripping lightly. The man knows how to play you like an instrument.

"Come on, baby. I wanna hear them, all the dirty little fantasies in that pretty little head of yours. Or maybe it's not Chibs? Who is it then, hmm? Juice? Happy?"

You choke out a whine, and he laughs, dark and mischievous.

"Fuck, you're squeezin' me so tight. It's one of them, isn't it? Which one, honey?"

You shake your head, tears forming at your lash line.

"Oh, I know. How about all of them? All four of us, passing you around, taking turns. How's that sound? Is that what you want, dirty girl?"

The thought sends you right over the edge, gasping for air as the heat licks up your spine. Your end is Jax's too, the low groan he releases vibrating both of your bones. He collapses on top of you, the two of you panting.

"You're relentless," you laugh, catching your breath.

"It's one of the reasons you love me so much," he chuckles, kissing you softly. "That, and the fact I have hot brothers."

"You're right about one of those things," you tease, squealing when he pinches your sides.

A knock on the door startles you both.

"Jackie boy, we have some business we need to attend to. That is, if you're not... preoccupied."

The familiar Scottish accent sends heat rushing to your skin. Jax notices.

"Be there in a minute, VP!"

You hear Chibs' footsteps as he leaves, breathing a sigh of relief.

"So it was Chibs, huh?"

"Like I said," you chide jokingly, smacking him on the shoulder. "Fucking relentless."

[thisreadswhatever]

Only Mine

find my masterlist here

[description]: jax teller x fem!reader

[wordcount]: 2.4k

[cw]: 18+ only, smut, jealous overprotective Jax, angst, short fight scene (if you can even call it that), car sex, oral f receiving, teasing, unfinished sex

[authors note]: I had this idea floating around for awhile and then this request inspired the rest! thank you!

“I’m sure you say that to all the ladies.” 

You were along the bar, chin in palm, blinking your lashes at the man sitting beside you. He smiled back wryly. He was pretty perfect. Clean cut, slightly muscular, no tats covering him from top to bottom, no bike sitting in the parking lot. He was a little cocky, aware of his good looks, and in all honesty, any other day he’d be the type of guy you’d usually find pretty boring. But for tonight, he’d be a welcome distraction. 

“So you’re really here alone?” the man asked, looking around as he took a sip from the glass in front of him. 

You smiled back, twisting a strand of hair into your fingers as you sipped your beer, “that surprise you?” 

“Someone like you doesn’t come around here often. Can't imagine you haven’t been snatched up yet.” 

Technically, he was right. Jax and you hadn’t spoken in days, and although the mutual silence was a regular occurrence, you somehow always found a way back to each other. It never had been made ‘official’, but it never really needed to be. You both stuck to each other like the end poles of magnets, impossible to keep apart yet impossible to stay together. You and Jax were a burning flame amongst a sea of trees condemned to an endless drought. Your love was toxic and infuriating, and it pained you both how hurtful you could be to one another. Yet for some reason, you always went back. You’d reconnect, one of you would fuck up, and then it was back to square one all over again. 

“Haven’t found the one yet”, you teased. 

He gestured to the bartender with his hand, “can I buy you another beer?” 

You smiled politely back at him, “you can buy me as many as you want.”

You picked up your drink and pulled his hand with your other as you led him to one of the quiet booths settled at the back of the bar. You spent the next hour cosying up to your stranger, soaking in the attention he gave you. He was overly attentive and extremely polite, almost a little too nice for your liking. No roughness on the edges, no fight in him. Just a gentleman through and through. You sat inches from each other, tension building as the drinks continued to appear. 

“Can I kiss you?” The man asked as he leaned in, hovering above your face. It wasn’t often you were asked to be kissed. You stared into his eyes through your long lashes, nodding in approval.

He smiled shyly into your lips as they pressed against his. He was gentle, his hands slowly moving to your waist, never straying further. 

He laid back into the bench, taking a sip from his beer. “You know I never did catch your name.” 

You didn’t want to share anything with this stranger, the anonymity bringing less questions and expectations. 

“Later.” 

You cupped his face in your hand, grazing his jaw with your fingertips as you brought his mouth to yours again.

He was nice, but the longer you spent kissing your gentle stranger, the more you yearned to be in the hands of your depraved biker. Jax was urgent and desperate for you each time you were in his arms. There was a mutual desire that turned you both into crazed maniacs when you were together. It was something you’d searched for every time you were with someone else, because nobody you’d ever come across had given you that same feeling. 

Jax had a way of turning you into the only girl in the world. Until he was fucking the next croweater who threw themselves at him the following day. 

Tonight, you were going to allow yourself to enjoy the gentlemen in front of you. You leaned back into the bench, trying to edge him on top of you as you sunk into the bench against his lips.

You were so entangled in your stranger that you never even noticed him arrive with half of The Club. It wasn’t until you were interrupted by the break in your lips as he was pulling the man off you by his shirt, forcing him to the floor as he was knocked flat on his back. 

“Jax!”

“Dude! What the fu-“ he tried to stand up, but Jax placed his shoe directly on his chest, crushing him to the ground. The man grunted under the weight, failing to pry the shoe off of him. “What the fuck are you doing!?”

“What do you think you’re doing?” He pressed down into the man’s chest harder, restraining himself from crushing his rib cage all together. 

The stranger looked at you with wide eyes, trying to speak through the force compounding his lungs, “she said she was alone!” 

Jax smiled at him as he laid spread out on the dirty bar floor. 

“I don’t give shit what she said. Your time is up, pretty boy.”  

You were ashamed to admit that you thoroughly enjoyed watching Jax furious with envy over you, but you did feel bad for the innocent guy beneath his sneaker. 

“Get the fuck off him, Jax.” 

He glanced up at you, taking a long look at your flushed pink cheeks and swollen lips.

The crowded bar was now zoned in on your table, watching and entertained by the drama unfolding. Chibs, Juice and Bobby guarded the table, ensuring no onlookers got in the way of Jax’s jealous fuelled rage. 

He picked the man up by his collar, pulling him to his feet as he threw him against the wall. Jax gripped at his jaw, lifting his chin to force his eyes towards you at the bench. “I suggest you apologise for bothering my girl.” 

“Jax don’t be ridiculous-“ 

He ignored you, glaring at the man in his grasp, tightening the grip on his collar. 

“I’m sorry, okay!” 

“Not to me, asshole. To her.” 

You rolled your eyes, watching as he tormented the innocent stranger you had set yourself upon.

“I’m sorry I bothered you.” His voice cracked from the hold Jax had on his collar, draining the circulation from his neck.

Jax shoved the man off the wall, releasing him as he was once again flown across the laminate. He stumbled to regain his balance before he started running, bolting for the exit. He disappeared at the speed of light, chuckles from Juice and Chibs echoing through the bar as he ran. 

You stood up from the bench, storming off in anger for the door. 

Jax followed you into the empty, dark car park outside the bar. His hands stuffed into his pockets as he watched you slump against the brick wall, sliding down to sit on the pavement. You put a cigarette to your mouth as you searched for a lighter in your bag. You hadn’t felt tipsy until the air hit you, realising your head was spinning.

He paced over to you, crouching forward with his lighter, igniting the cigarette between your lips. 

“You’re such a prick sometimes, you know that?” 

Jax slid down the wall beside you, his legs bent slightly at the knees as he sighed to himself, lighting his own cigarette. “Not gonna argue with that.” 

He exhaled a large cloud of smoke as he spoke, “but you were basically fucking that guy in an open bar, y/n.” 

“First of all, no I wasn’t.” 

He chuckled, amused by your irritation. 

“And second of all, what the fuck has that got to do with you? You’re the one who decided to get knee deep in Ima last week, again.” 

“I told you I was drunk.” 

“And now I’m drunk too”, you protested.

He shook his head as smoke escaped his lips, fingers twirling the silver lighter in his hands. “That isn’t going to happen again.”

Your head fell back as you groaned at his promise, leaning against the hard brick behind you. “Yeah, ‘cause I haven’t heard that one before.” 

He smiled, nudging your leg with his playfully. “You know I mean it. Doesn’t matter who I’m inside, there's only one face I see.” 

You turned your head towards him, leaning your face on his shoulder. “I’m tired of this, Jax. You and your mommy issues are giving me whiplash.” 

“Yeah, well your baggage ain’t so easy to handle either.” He placed a hand over the back of your head, stroking your hair as he spoke.

You responded with a punch to his knee, swaying his leg. “You can’t just keep beating men up because they’re interested in me. That guy was actually sweet.” 

He threw his cigarette across the pavement before he grasped his hands into your hair, entangling his fingers between the strands. He crushed his lips against yours, his tongue lapping into your mouth. His fingers smoothed against your face, the feeling of his cold rings brushing against your cheek. Your foreheads connected as your eyes closed, resting silently along each other. “I can be sweet too.” 

You chuckled, playfully biting his lip. “You’re a sweet, jealous prick, Teller.”

He pulled into you once more, pecking your lips slowly before escalating into your lips, pulling you on top of him. You straddled him there in the lot, surrounded by empty parked cars in the dead of night. His hands gripped at your waist, pulling your body tighter to him, the feeling of his erection pressing into your jeans. Your hands twisted into his hair, holding his head against yours. He smirked against your lips, trailing his hands lower to your ass, as he secured his hands in your back pockets. He stroked your cheek with his nose, kissing the pink tinted skin.

“I just don’t like sharing what’s mine.” 

Your mouth found his as you raised your eyebrows, mumbling into his lips, “then take what's yours.”

He grinned, lifting you in one swift motion from his lap, standing you up against him. He pulled you across the parking lot as you stumbled drunk, trying to keep up. He led you to your car, opened the back door and pushed you flat against the back seat. 

Jax laid above you, planting himself between your legs. He angled himself between the seats, crushing his mouth against yours. His touch was ravenous, ripping the buttons from your jeans waistband as he pulled the denim from your ass. You giggled as he struggled to get them off entirely between the leather of the flat seat. You lifted yourself up, helping as he removed them. He pulled at your shirt, lifting it higher to expose the skin around your stomach as he leaned into you, gnawing at the skin in short pecks from your navel to your now exposed panties. You grasped at his hair as he claimed you with his warm mouth, suffocating himself into the fabric that covered your mound. 

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking soaked for me.” He groaned at the taste of your slick pooling into the cotton, pulling your panties to the side. He circled his tongue against your clit, watching you, utterly mesmerised as you whimpered at the sensation. He rolled his thumb against your dripping fold, “this pretty cunt is mine.” 

Vibrations filled your entire being as he nuzzled into your mound, lapping his tongue repeatedly against your slick, his hands lifting your ass to push deeper into you. You tugged at the roots of his blonde hair, drunken moans of his name filling the car park as you struggled to keep quiet. He pulled away, his face glistening from your juices as he smirked at you, caressing his fingers against your pussy. “You want your sweet guy to finish you off?”

Your head fell back at the taunt, “c’mon Jax, don’t- stop-”

He pulled your panties down your ass, exposing your cunt entirely. His tongue stroked you, prodding at your swollen nub, before hesitating again. “Tell me you’re mine.” 

“Fuck, Jax- I’m- yours. I’m only yours.” The words trailed slowly from your gritted teeth, your head swirling from the feeling and the beer. You chased for his mouth, drawing your hips up closer to his face.

“Look at me when you tell me.”

You used all your might to lift your head from the seat, finding his eyes staring into yours, fire blazing within them. You spoke between your sharpened breaths, trying to form a coherent sentence. “I said- I’m yours.”

“I can’t hear you, darlin’. You’re only what?” 

Your head collapsed into the leather seat, cries escaping your lips as you squirmed your hips higher to find his mouth again. “I’m yours- Jax- shit-”

“That’s my pretty girl.” 

He stoked his tongue against your clit, enjoying every moment as you pleaded through your moans for him to take you to your climax. He was revelling in your anguish as he teased at your cunt. He played with your folds again, his fingers caressing the soaking skin. 

“No other man comes near my pussy, isn’t that right?”

You groaned in response, his claim on you sending you further into spiral. “No- no one else.”

His lips reconnected to your cunt, whimpers of desperation pouring from your lips. His fingers finally found your entrance, rewarding you as he slid into your seam, pushing you towards your release. 

He muttered into your mound, “you only cum for me.”

Your body exploded at his instruction, collapsing onto his fingers as they curled against your sweet spot, his mouth soaking in your orgasm. He delighted at your unravelling, his hands travelling your body as he found your breasts, kneading into the soft skin.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Let go for me.” Your thighs shook around his face uncontrollably, squeezing his head into your cunt.

He released his hand from your mound, hovering over you as his lips laid flush against yours. He danced around your mouth, forcing you to taste your slick that covered his tongue. Jax straddled over your hips, holding himself up against the headrest of the seat as his throbbing cock found your entrance. He positioned himself, sliding between the folds, a squeal escaping your throat as he filled you entirely. 

Before he could fuck you senseless, a loud repeated bang was heard against the hood of the car, startling you both.

“Jackie boy! We gotta go!”

Jax collapsed against you, groaning in frustration. If you weren’t so drunk from Jax and the beer, you would’ve been furious. Instead you giggled, amused by the interruption, “Chib’s and his impeccable timing.” He sighed, his head resting against your chest. 

He pulled out from you, as you rushed to put your underwear back in its place. He smirked against your mouth as he kissed you one last time, parting your lips between his, "guess I’ll just have to finish claiming you later.”

read part two here

[marvelous-slut]

Call Back Pt. 2 - Chibs Telford x Reader

It took me forever to write this shit cause my new job has me in a thousand different directions. But here she is. Part two!

“Hey baby.” Gemma says as you walk through the door. You smell the hints of bacon, French toast and of course cigarettes through out the house. “You hungry?” She asks, you kick off your shoes and plop down into the chair at the dining room table.

“I would offer help but looks like you’re done. Smells great.” You say, Gemma smiles and sits down the plate of eggs. You grab your cup, filling it with orange juice. Trying to make yourself comfortable in the chair, your legs still aching from last night.

“Don’t worry, you can help when I clean this shit up.” You both chuckle, before long Jax makes his way to the table. He sits down only for a moment to grab some French toast and devours it. He pours himself some milk and drinks it in one setting.

“Someone’s in a rush.” Gemma says, putting eggs onto her plate. Jax looks up, shaking his head. Something has happened with the club, you can tell. You can always tell.

“Fuckin’ short on guys again today. First it’s Bobby saying he’s got shit with the baby mom, then Chibs saying he can’t be there today for the gun meet. Something about he has to stay close incase the wife calls.” You drop your fork, picking it up quickly in an attempt to make the shock your feel less noticeable.

“Fiona?! What is that bitch coming back here for? Hasn’t she fucked his life up enough? Bitch should have decided on that when he was in the hospital.” Gemma asks. Hospital? How did you miss it? You question yourself. You visited him frequently after that bomb went off and you didn’t see his wife? You feel froze in place. How stupid? How stupid could you have been to believe anything that bastard said to you?

“Yep. Apparently it’s about their kid, or working out things. I don’t know I got mixed up on what he told me. I’m just pissed cause we’re two guys short now. Even Tig is more reliable right now and that’s saying a lot.” Jax gives Gemma a kiss on the head and gives you a hug before he heads to the door. Clay had already headed out early in the morning to finish up some things at the club house. You feel your hand around the knife that laid on the table, tapping it up and down. Gemma notices and decides it’s her business too of what’s going on.

“What’s with the knife?” She asks. You pause for a moment, thinking of how to get the frustration out without telling her too much.

“Well, just a hypothetical question, if you’d been seeing a man and found out he was playing you like a fucking fiddle the whole time you’d been fucking him, what would you do?” You ask, holding the knife in place now but not letting up on your grip. She lowers your hand down.

“Well baby, I’d be holding a knife just like that. What’s going on?” You sigh, tossing the knife down. Instantly you know, Gemma knows too.

“It’s nothing, just a th-“ Before you can finish your sentence she blurts out.

“Fuck me! This is about Chibs!” She blurts out. “What the hell, how long has it been going on?” You feel your heart pounding in your chest.

“Look, that’s not important. I’m just pissed, he told me he was done with his wife and now this?” You put your hands into your head, forcing back tears. “How could I be so fucking dumb?” You mutter out, Gemma runs her hand up and down your back.

“Listen, look at me.” She says, you look up to make eye contact with her. “Fuck him. I love Chibs. I do, but that’s a sleaze move and he knows it. The best thing I can tell you, act like you’re unbothered. You go to the club house tonight when everyone’s there, you ignore him.” You sigh, throwing your head back.

“Gem. I don’t even wan-“ She cuts you off before you can finish.

“I don’t give a damn, you’re not gonna lay at your house and sulk over this. You’re gonna get your shit together, put on a good outfit and show his ass you’re not bothered.” You look at her and know she means business. “And I won’t tell Clay if you’re worried about it. I’d like to kick Chibs ass myself right now but I still don’t want the bastard to get killed.” You nod in agreement.

“Now, eat, get your ass home and get the crying out of your system and then get ready. Make sure you wear something that shows the girls too.”

________

As horrible as you felt, you managed to drag yourself to the mirror and look at yourself. Not bad for someone who’d been sobbing for a large part of the day. Once you got to the club house, you saw Jax. He looked much more relaxed than this morning. You turn your head and meet eyes with Chibs, he doesn’t even look upset. You feel the anger flowing through your body. Feeling your fist clinch. You remember what Gemma said - unbothered. You look away and keep heading to the bar. Chibs eyes still watching you as you go. A moment passes as you decide on what to drink. Water is probably the best choice, but the booze would surely help how you feel.

“You look sad.” The young familiar face says as he sits next to you. You turn to him, examining him closer up than you had before. Juice was his name.

“I won’t lie, I am.” He smiles softly, pushing a beer toward you. “But this alcohol is gonna help me not remember that. I hope.” You say, taking a drink of the beer.

“You wanna talk about it?” He asks, you smile at him shaking your head.

“It’s better I don’t. What’s up with you? Most of you stay 100 feet away from me at all times.” Juice smiles, looking over to see Clay with Gemma. Since Clay had made the comment a few weeks ago to Juice about how the two of you should ‘get to know each other better’ he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Clay admired Juice, he’d always wanted a son. Jax was close enough to it, but he also knew Jax would never feel that way about him.

“Look, I think you’re a pretty girl. I don’t like seeing pretty girls sad.” You hadn’t interacted with Juice much, most time when you were at the club house he wasn’t or he was passed out inside a crow eater.

“Thanks Juice. You’re sweet. I should have known, you’re the least scary looking one here.” He giggles and rolls his eyes.

“What? The tattoos on the side of my head & the mohawk doesn’t scare you?”

You let out a chuckle, it felt good to laugh and enjoy yourself. You run your hand over the side of his head where his tattoos lay.

“No way. They’re real? I always thought it had to be temporaries you kept putting on.” You joke, he laughs softly. Before you can say anything else, you see Chibs standing behind Juice.

“Juicy boy, can I have a minute?” He asks motioning to you. Juice nods his head, silently upset that Chibs interfered with the interaction.

“I’ll see you later?” He asks, you smile and nod your head. Even blowing him a kiss as he walks away. Chibs motions for you to follow him outside. Once the two of you are outside, he’s pacing back and forth.

“What? I don’t give you attention for five minutes and you’re out with the young Buck aye? Makes a lot of sense. You just want a man to keep you occupied.” You laugh, shaking your head. You should walk away, but you don’t.

“You know what? Fuck you! Fuck. You. You’re the one who lied about your wife, you lied about what you wanted with me and your wife. You don’t get the right to drag me out of a party and try to make me feel bad.” You blurt out, surprising yourself that there aren’t tears running down your face. “Maybe next time you’re trying to play both sides with women, you shouldn’t tell the fucking girls step brother about your issues.” Your back is against the wall as he stands over top of you. His hands against the concrete wall.

“It’s complicated-“ He begins to speak, at this point you didn’t need to hear it, you didn’t even want to hear it. He instantly regrets the comments he made, but it was too late to take it back.

“No. No, Chibs it isn’t. You lied. If you wanted your wife back, all you had to do was tell me that. I’m a big girl and can handle the hurt.” You gently shove him away as he tried to get closer to you. “I’ll make it less complicated for you. I’m done with you, I’m done with this. Enjoy getting your family back. You deserve it. I hope your sorry ass goes back to Ireland and you live happily ever after.” You brush past him and head to your car. Despite the pain that ached in your chest you were proud of yourself. Realizing it was time to stop beating a dead horse. Chibs sighs deeply, he pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Before he lights it, he hears a familiar voice behind him.

“Something you need to tell me Chibby?” He feels his body go cold, turning around to meet the face of both Clay & Jax.

“Aye. Fuck me.” He says, throwing his hands up in the air.

[bullet-prooflove]

Smoke: Filip 'Chibs' Telford x Reader

Tagging: @anime-weeb-4-life @kmc1989 @chaoticqueenie98 @thatonesexycancerian @fanfic-n-tabulous @redpoodlern @kishie8 @skyesthebomb @@thanossexual @nu1freakshow @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @jtelford @deliriousfangirl61 @darqchilddaydreamz @ankhmutes @goblinenby @just-a-girl-who-wrytes @lexondeck @adaydreamaway08 @keyweegirlie @joyfulfxckery @oklahomapeach @fleureeee @goosterroose @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @ambassadortotrilliusprime @legally-a-bastard '@wnbweasley @justreblogginfics @multiflixshelves @@katriina-74 @trublu2u @@fictional-fantasy @fanfic-n-tabulous @just-a-throw-away @yousigned-upforthis @fangirling-and-lovin-it @keyweegirlie @thekirbishow @laribombarie @pansexualhailstorm @elixae @buckysteveloki-me

Prequel to:

Complicated - Both you and Chibs don't want anything complicated.

No Words (NSFW) - You and Chibs don't need words to express how you feel.

Moment (NSFW) - Chibs gets lost in the moment.

His - There's no doubt in Chib's mind that you belong to him.

Different - Things are different with you.

It’s your capability that Chibs first fell in love with. He’s sitting in the public gallery watching you argue Jax’s case, his gaze fixed firmly on you because you are a sight to behold. Matte black high heels and a fitted grey pencil skirt that makes his imagination run rampant. A royal blue silk skirt that that illuminates your skin making you look practically ethereal as you tear apart the prosecutor’s argument with a viciousness, he likens to a Valkyrie.

It's the first time you’ve worked a case for the club, and he can already tell that Jax has made a wise choice.

There’s a deliberateness in everything you do, even the scorn in your voice when you object to the DA’s motion, it’s meant to anger your opponent, throw them off guard and it works. The DA starts to get flustered and before he knows it the case has been thrown out.

You celebrate with them that night, a glass of top shelf Scotch before you head on out for the night. Chibs can’t take his eyes off you; he’s never met anyone who’s ensnared him the way that you have.

You’re confident, thorough and sexy as hell.

He thinks about you in the shower that night, his palm wrapping around his cock as he imagines the noises you’d make when he’s inside of you, your fingertips digging into his shoulders when he makes you come on his cock.

You become a favourite around the clubhouse, their go to person for legal advice of any kind. You help Bobby with his divorce, Tig with his investment in Cara Cara, advise Juice on the best business structure for his weed shop. You’re good humoured, genial and you don’t take any shit. You command a level of respect that isn’t easily earned amongst their ranks.

She’s emotionally intelligent, Bobby tells him when the two of them discuss you over a couple bottles of beer. It’s why you make such a good lawyer.

He never hears you mention your husband, you’ve worn a diamond on your finger ever since he met you, but you haven’t breathed a word of the other man.

There’s no love there, he reckons.

It’s later that night that he sees the first of the bruises. He’s smoking a joint outside, enjoying a moment of peace when you join him on the concrete loading bay. You sit down alongside of him, and he offers it to you wordlessly. You take it from between his fingers and take a drag, holding it for a moment before you release the smoke into the air. It feels intimate, sharing a spliff as the two of you look up at the stars above.

You’ve been different tonight, a little subdued. Your smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It’s when you raise the joint to take a second toke that your sleeve shifts and he sees the finger marks imprinted onto your skin. They’re distinctive. Black indentations and broken blood vessels, someone’s grabbed you, hard. You don’t say anything when he reaches out, his fingertips gently shifting the collar of your shirt so he can see the patchwork of brown, yellow and green that mars the base of your throat.

These ones are older, starting to fade. His thumb traces over them lightly before he pulls away.

“I’m leaving him tonight.” You tell Chibs as you hand back the joint. “I have a place close to the office.”

“Good.” He says, his voice a little rough because he’s trying to repress the rage that rushes through his system like a wildfire.

He wants to kill the bastard. He wants to beat the living shit out of him until he’s bleeding and begging for daring to lay his hands on you. His jaw clenches as he places the joint between his lips and takes another toke because he doesn’t want you to see that side of him. You don’t need anymore violence right now, you need compassion, support, to know that someone gives a shit about you.

“Do you need help?” He asks you as he watches the smoke evaporate into the air.

“I’m not going to ask you for that.” You tell him, pushing yourself off the loading dock so that you’re standing in front of it instead. “You’re my client.”

“I offered.” He says dropping the joint to the ground and crushing it underneath the heel of his motorcycle boot. “And I’m also your friend.”

Something shifts when he says that, he isn’t sure what but he knows the words make a difference. You’ve been handling it all alone until this point he guesses, and now someone’s reaching out of the darkness and offering you a lifeline.

“Ok Filip.” You say, your gaze meeting his for the first time tonight. “You can help me leave my husband.”

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[tempestuous-lush]

Crimson & Clover Masterlist || SoA

jax teller x f!reader

chapter one - take me down

bonus chapter - shiv

chapter two - cherry bomb

chapter three - crimson and clover

chapter four - white balloons

bonus chapter - wild side

chapter five

chapter six

chapter seven

chapter eight