tellerrides

[tellerrides]

Jax Teller in Season 2.

[tellerrides]

SONS OF ANARCHY 6.06 | Salvage

[tellerrides]

Jax’s grin deepened the moment she called him young man. It was like a match to dry paper — her tone had shifted, her posture loosened, and that smile, barely there, said more than her words ever could. He didn’t move when her hand pressed against his chest. In fact, he leaned into it — just slightly — letting the warmth of her palm linger against the leather of his cut. “You really gonna make me wait three days?” he murmured, voice low, smooth, and just rough enough to curl around her spine. His hand reached up, slow, and gently closed over her wrist — not to stop her, not to move her — but to feel her. To make sure she knew he wasn’t some impatient kid playing business with a woman like her. He leaned in, just enough for his breath to ghost the shell of her ear. “See, I’m the type of guy who doesn’t like delays. Especially when the deal’s already been made.”

His thumb brushed lightly against her pulse, then he let her go — gently, deliberately. “You’ve already made your decision, Franciska. You want this. You just haven’t admitted how much.” Jax stepped in again, slower this time, invading her space not to dominate, but to occupy. His palm rested on her waist, fingers splaying against the sharp line of her blazer, steady, warm. His eyes dropped to her lips for a brief moment — casual, shameless — before lifting back to hers with that same crooked smirk.

“So here’s what I’m thinking,” he said, tone half-drawl, half-command. “You pour us two drinks. I sign tonight. And we seal it like grown-ups.” He leaned in just a breath closer, his voice dropping like honey laced with smoke. “Unless, of course, you like watching me walk out that door with your name still on my tongue and your deal still unsigned.”

Franciska took the time to let her hazel hues peruse over his form, over the top of her glasses. Her eyes narrowed and lips pursed, he had guts, and she had to give him where credit was due. A small amount of admiration could be shown. For if he was any other man, he wouldn't be sitting where he was. She would've kicked him out the second he stepped foot through her door, before he even spoke. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips. "Good," she murmured as he agreed, with a low hum and a slight nod. "Mmm. That would be most wise," she stated assuredly. Her lips turned into a smirk. She raised her chin as he stepped closer, a sharp intake of breath as her gaze locked with his.

Her head tilted to the side as he gave her the once over. Trying to intimidate her, she could at least entertain the thought she supposed. Her brows raised, she shouldn't have been surprised by his actions, not in the slightest. Yet, here she was. Semi-pleased, he gave as good as he got. Shaking her head in distaste with his words. Was he wrong? Maybe...maybe not. She placed her hands upon her desk, as she slowly started to rise out of her seat. Her orbs looking him up and down, "Touché, Mister," this could be fun, she mused.

A deep breath expelled from her lungs, as she placed a hand upon her hips. She nodded, it's true. They were infamous...for all the wrong reasons, but they got jobs done. A short, "hmph,". He kept on moving closer, into her own space. Where were the boundaries? He was certainly trying to get her flustered. Not working. His voice was low, as his words resonated in her ears. Starting to see him for what he truly was. An enigma. "Alright, young man..." she's changed her tune, clearly. "You're direct. That approach is one I can get behind," she replied, her tone low. The brunette woman turned to her side, and placed a hand on his chest, to move him back slightly. Space. Please. An honest to God chuckle left her lips at his final words. "I'm seeing that. Alright, I think we can come to some sort of agreement. "Let me write a contract within a few days, and you can come back to sign. How about that?" she queried with a hint of a smile breaking through her facade.

[tellerrides]

Hello, loves 🥰

It’s been a while since I’ve posted here. Life has gotten… busier and a bit rough in some ways, but I’m doing my best to handle it all. I’ve been through some personal situations that led me to seek therapy, and overall, I’m going through major changes in my life right now.

Starting today, I’ll be on holiday until June 22nd, so I’m hoping to catch up on drafts and DMs. I truly apologize for the silence and my absence. I haven’t been at my best, unfortunately—but I’m healing 🥰 and I’m really looking forward to creating more amazing stories with you all.

❤️ Rosy

[tellerrides]

Jax took a long drag from his cigarette, exhaling slow as his eyes held hers — steady, unreadable, but with just enough pull to make the space between them feel charged. Franciska’s growl didn’t rattle him; it made his mouth curve slightly, slow and knowing. Her control was obvious — sharp posture, clipped tone, cold calculation. He respected that. Hell, he liked that. "No ‘darlin’, got it," he murmured, voice low, smoky. "Wouldn’t want to crawl under that skin too soon." But his tone said otherwise — like he knew he already had. When she took her glasses off and called him little boy, that smile returned — but it changed. Slower. Darker. He stepped forward just enough to let her feel the heat off his body, his voice dropping to something quieter… more intimate.

"You can throw around that ‘little boy’ line all you want," he said, eyes flicking from her mouth to her throat, then back to her eyes. "But if I were really just a boy, you wouldn’t be looking at me like that." His thumb tapped ash from his cigarette without breaking eye contact. "Wouldn’t be raising your chin like you want to stay above me… while part of you’s already wondering what I’d feel like between your legs and not just in your business." He paused, let the silence stretch, let her feel him sizing her up — not like prey, but like a rival worth devouring slowly.

“You know SAMCRO. You know we don’t knock unless there’s a reason. I came here because I need something — and because I know you’re the type who doesn’t waste time on men who can’t hold your attention.” He flicked the cigarette to the floor and stepped in close enough for his voice to brush her ear. “So let’s drop the act. You want power, control — I get it. But you also want someone who doesn’t flinch when you bare your teeth. That’s me.”

Then, just a breath away from her lips, he added, low and smooth, “And trust me, sweetheart… you’ve never had a man like me in your room before.”

This wasn't the first time someone had interrupted the quiet before a storm, so to speak. Franciska had her fair share of men come into her private sanctuary and intimidate her into letting them run the show. Those men often ended up sniveling and groveling at her feet by the time she chewed and spat them out for having the audacity of trying to take over her business. What made them think that they were God's gift, huh? With her glasses sitting low on the nose, her piercing orbs studied this intruder with curiosity. Her stance is stoic with her arms firmly crossed. Her eyes narrowed in on the cigarette he brought to his lips. She wasn't impressed as their gazes locked in battle. The air shifted, and she could tell that he was unlike any others. Yet, at this moment, she wasn't going to give him the satisfaction. Her eyebrows raised at his words. His southern drawl, the older woman was still trying to place him in her mind, and she couldn't. She made a non-committal noise at his teasing manner. "I wouldn't have liked that very much either," she commented ladened with distaste.

A soft sigh expelled from her painted lips as she tapped her fingers against her arm. She had something he wanted, and she was about to find out as her eyes zeroed in on his movements.

Franciska let him take over. After all that, he had the room. It was clear to her that this young boy…man had done his research unlike most. Slowly she started to see more clearly. As the word 'darlin'' slipped from his mouth, a low growl was emitted from her lips. But his words…his offer even she had to admit. Sounded very tempting. Remaining as best poker face as she could muster. "Listen. First things first. Please, never call me 'darlin''," she stated firmly. It made her skin crawl. "SAMCRO. I've heard of you. You're not very discreet, but then again, I suppose you want your club to be the most infamous, hmm," she commented. She knows a good prospect when she hears one, and this certainly was a little tantalizing to say the least. Very least to hear more.

But, boy oh boy, did she want to wipe that smirk off his face. Her lips formed a smirk. Franciska removed her glasses, raising her chin slightly, she spoke, "color me intrigued, little boy. You've yet to prove yourself, but you may proceed. I'm listening."

[tellerrides]

open to: f / m

Jax leaned against his Harley like he owned the night, the chrome catching the streetlights in quick flashes. A cigarette dangled from his lips, smoke curling up around his messy blonde hair and shadowed jawline. His cut hung open over a plain white tee, bloodstains old and new splattered across the leather like a warning. His blue eyes locked onto them — steady, unblinking, full of something between a promise and a threat.

"I'm not gonna paint you a pretty picture," he said, his voice low, rough, and worn at the edges like gravel under tires. "You come with me, you’re all in. No half-assing it. No running when shit gets ugly — and it will get ugly." He took a slow drag from his cigarette, the tip burning bright in the dark, before flicking the ash away with a careless snap of his fingers. His jaw tightened, the tension winding through his body like a loaded gun just waiting for a reason to fire. "You’ll get loyalty — real loyalty — the kind that bleeds for you," he said, voice dropping even lower. "You’ll have me at your back. But it’s not clean. It’s not safe. You’ll make enemies just breathing the same air as me."

He pushed off the bike and closed the distance between you in a few lazy, predatory steps. When he stopped inches from them, he cocked his head, the ghost of a dangerous smile playing on his lips. "So," Jax said, voice like a match striking in the dark, "you riding with me — or walking away before you get burned?"

[tellerrides]

Hey dearies, apologies for the absence. Slowly going to make a comeback here, so feel free to reach out through DMs. I might post open starters to get this blog more active. Much love ♥

[tellerrides]

Jax leaned back in the chair he’d so casually pulled out, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, the other bringing a cigarette to his lips. He took his time, exhaling a slow stream of smoke, his blue eyes never leaving Franciska’s. He’d dealt with hard-asses before—hell, he was one—but there was something different about her. She wasn’t just posturing; she had built this place, owned every inch of it, and wasn’t about to let some outlaw waltz in and tell her how to run things. Jax respected that. Respected her. But he also wasn’t the type to back down when someone challenged him. A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he flicked ash onto the tray beside him. "Little boy, huh?" he drawled, tilting his head slightly as he let her words settle. "Damn, and here I thought I was bein’ polite by comin’ straight to you instead of makin’ my boys sniff around first."

His fingers tapped against the edge of the table, the amusement in his expression not quite reaching his eyes. He knew her type—tough, no-nonsense, the kind of woman who had crawled her way up from the gutter and made damn sure no one ever dragged her back down. That wasn’t too far off from how he and the club operated, which meant this conversation could go one of two ways. Jax leaned forward slightly, resting his forearms on the table, his voice dropping just enough to make sure she listened.

"Look, I get it. You built this, you run a tight ship, and you don’t need some asshole walkin’ in here thinkin’ he knows better." His smirk faded slightly, his expression turning more serious. "But here’s the thing, darlin’—I ain’t here to take over, and I sure as shit ain’t here to waste your time. I’m here to talk business. Real business." He let the words sink in, watching her closely, waiting for even the smallest crack in that icy exterior. "I know how this town works. And I know that even a place as tight as yours ain't immune to problems. Cops sniffin’ around, competitors lookin’ to cause trouble, maybe a few customers who don’t know how to keep their hands to themselves." He exhaled another drag of his cigarette, flicking the ash away with casual ease.

"That’s where SAMCRO comes in," he continued, voice smooth, confident. "We keep the wrong kind of people out. Make sure no one screws with what you built. In return, we talk numbers—mutual protection, maybe a little extra revenue flowin’ your way." Jax leaned back again, giving her space, letting her chew on his words. He knew better than to push too hard—women like Franciska didn’t respond well to pressure. But he also knew an opportunity when he saw one.

“So,” he said finally, his smirk returning as he put out his cigarette, “you still think I’m just some little boy? Or do you wanna hear what I’m actually offering?”

All through her young adult life Franciska had been taken advantage of, the power of control stripped away from her, along with her dignity. The brunette was an extremely naive sex worker at the time. She hadn't the best upbringing, with parents that constantly fought and argued. Sometimes she to found herself on the receiving end of her father's fists. Throughout the years, the older woman has managed to work her way through the ranks. From the gutter to the highest pedestals. An esteemed businesswoman now owns one of the town's best establishments, known as 'the sinner's paradise'. She is well known for being a hard ass and a bitch to some who come to her and mistreat her lovely ladies. There are very strict rules that men must abide by if they wish to partake in sinful, erotic, pleasures.

Tonight was going to be a  busy night. More so than usual, she suspected. She had double-checked, and triple-checked security. Not wanting any of her ladies harmed. She had given them all a brief peptalk, and they were also prepared in case anything were to happen. She and they are the ones in control here, not these simpering, whining men that often frequent here. The place, as usual, high-caliber, cleaniless is next to godliness in something so wicked. Getting ready as the large, heavy doors moved. Franciska spun around to face the unknown intruder. Her orbs glanced in his direction, taking in his appearance and demeanor. His slicked back, blonde hair. Vaguely familiar, but she couldn't quite place him. As his words resonated in her ears, her eyebrows raised with a slight head tilt. Her arms folding over her chest as she shifted her stance. Her mouth began to open, ready to speak when he simply pulled out the chair, not bothering her to go ahead. Her thinly veiled eyes narrowed even more. She breathed in a deep breath, recollecting herself as she tried to stay calm. "Is that so?" she questioned. "You think it's wise to just come up here and speak to me without an appointment? Look, mister...I don't know who you are. But what makes you think I'd be interested in anything you have to offer?" she inquired, as her lips formed a grin. "I've got everything I need, right here," she gestured with her arms. "I don't need some little boy mixed in my business affairs," she smirked.

[tellerrides]

— @ofinfinitedreams liked for a starter. ♥

Jax leaned back in his chair at the clubhouse, the faint clink of ice in his whiskey glass echoing in the room as he considered his next move. The club needed leverage—something legit enough to keep the cops off their backs but profitable enough to funnel cash where it really mattered. His mind turned over the possibilities, but one idea kept coming back to him: brothels. Prostitution. A business that could work both sides of the law, if handled right. Word on the street had led him to her—a mistress, the owner of a successful establishment with connections he could only admire. Jax respected someone who built their own empire, especially in a world as unforgiving as hers. He’d done his homework, of course. He wasn’t about to walk into this blind. She had a reputation for being sharp, shrewd, and not someone to cross lightly. That was fine. Jax wasn’t looking to cross her; he was looking to work with her.

It didn’t take him long to track her down—her business had a way of staying just visible enough for the right people to find it. Jax’s confidence didn’t waver as he made his way there, the rumble of his bike cutting through the air like a warning. This wasn’t just about money; it was about control, alliances, and making sure the club stayed one step ahead of anyone trying to put them in a cage. When he arrived, Jax didn’t waste time with theatrics. He pushed open the heavy doors, his stride casual but purposeful as he entered the building. The place was polished, tasteful, but it carried an edge—just like the woman who owned it. His eyes scanned the room briefly before they landed on her, and he allowed himself the faintest smirk.

She didn’t look like someone who’d be easy to convince, but that was fine. Jax Teller never backed away from a challenge. As he approached, he tucked his hands into his pockets, his leather kutte shifting slightly with the movement. "Word is you know how to run a business," he said, his voice low and steady, carrying just enough charm to keep it disarming. "And I’ve got a proposition I think you’re gonna want to hear." Jax didn’t wait for an invitation to sit. He pulled up a chair, leaning forward slightly as his piercing blue eyes locked onto hers. "I’m looking for a partner. Someone who knows the ropes, knows how to keep things clean on the surface but profitable underneath." He paused, the smirk returning to his lips.

[tellerrides]

With Christmas just around the corner, I might have time to post those starters later during the week, depending on my schedule. I was planning to post some today, but I'm freezing from the cold and I'd rather snuggle up in bed and watch something before I drift off to sleep. I'll catch you all this week, have a lovely start x

[tellerrides]

THE SLEEPING DICTIONARY (2003) dir. Guy Jenkin

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Jax’s smirk deepened as she stood, his eyes following her every move. He didn’t even try to hide the way he drank her in, letting her know exactly what he thought without saying a word. He leaned back in his chair, casually confident, his hand running over his jaw before letting it drop to rest on his belt buckle. "Figure out if I like you or loathe you?" he repeated, his tone teasing, a low rasp in his voice. "Darlin’, I think you already know which way I’m leaning."

He stood slowly, deliberately, closing the gap she’d just created. His gaze stayed locked on hers, the spark of amusement in his blue eyes impossible to ignore. "But if you’re really the type who likes to keep me guessing..." His hand brushed lightly past hers as he leaned in, his voice dropping to a warm, intimate tone. "...I think I’ll stick around and see if you can keep me on my toes." He let the words linger, his lips curving into a grin as he pulled back just enough to leave her space, but not without making his intentions clear.

"You've got this look, like you want to play it cool," he said, his eyes roaming hers with unmistakable heat. "But I can tell you’re just as bad at staying away from trouble as I am. And you’re lookin’ at it, sweetheart." Jax let the corner of his mouth lift into a cocky smile, his hand slipping into his pocket as he took a step back, his tone soft but unmistakably playful.

"So how about we skip the games and see where this thing goes? I promise, I’m more fun when I’m not guessing."

@tellerrides

Continued from here

His gaze seems to drink her in and as his eyes move over her body she watches. She doesn't waver, doesn't let her gaze drop. Aria wants him to know that it's okay. She wants him to like what he sees. "I guess that makes sense. You don't strike me as the type of guy who plays it safe." Something about Jax was impossible to resist. He was very clearly a guy that she should probably stay away from. Dangerous and mixed up in all the wrong things. But Aria had never been one to play it safe either and as he leaned in she matched his movements, her eyes never leaving his as she closed just a little more of the distance between them.

Everything about him made her feel a little wild, a feeling she'd been craving since she could remember. His smirk and the deep bass of his tone sent shivers through her but she kept her cool as she quirked an eyebrow in his direction. "I do like to keep you guessing. So when you figure out if you like me or loathe me why don't you give me a call?" With that she stood, severing the closeness between them as she did. With a slight smirk she tossed her hair over her shoulder. It was hard not to melt into him immediately but she had a feeling he was used to that. Girls fawning over him. She wanted to make him work for it.

[tellerrides]

— like this for a small starter from Jax. Gonna try to make this boy more active as I've been busy, so yes... click on that heart eheheh ♥

[tellerrides]

I want - no, I need more long term, in depth ships. The kind of ships that I can’t stop thinking about. That have a real chokehold on you as an rper. Really thought out, headcanoned and plotted ships. Where we obsess over them endlessly. Go back and forth and stay up late just to read one or two more replies. Where you can get so attached to the characters involved that you can feel what they’re feeling, the good, the bad, the ugly. The kind of ships that really make the RP experience. The ones we can really develop, see grow over the months, have long angsty threads of, but also short fluffy or smutty ones as well. Or where we can post a random one liner just to mix things up here and there! Yeah, I need more ships like that. So please, like… message… send a carrier pigeon... doesn’t matter! Because as the great t.swif.t once said… it’s a need.

[tellerrides]

JAX TELLER + back tattoos

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❛ you know, maybe you don’t like me. that’s fine. i’m an acquired taste. ❜

Jax leaned back in his chair, one arm draped lazily over the backrest, his signature smirk playing on his lips. He gave Aria a long, slow once-over before locking his piercing blue eyes onto hers, the flirtation in his gaze impossible to miss. "An acquired taste, huh?" he drawled, his voice low and smooth, with just enough edge to make it dangerous. "Well, sweetheart, I’ve always had a thing for the rare stuff. Keeps a man sharp."

He tilted his head slightly, his grin widening as he caught the flicker of defiance in her expression. "But you?" He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, closing some of the distance between them. "You’re not just rare—you’re one of a kind. The kind a guy like me doesn’t just walk away from." His voice dropped an octave, the teasing giving way to something deeper, more intense.

"So maybe I don’t like you, Aria. Or maybe... I like you way too much for my own good."

[tellerrides]

❛ i asked for extra pickles, and they give me two? so what, a normal amount of pickles is one? makes no goddamn sense. ❜ ( from juniper cause it made me laugh and I needed to send it from someone okay )

Jax paused mid-sip of his drink, raising an eyebrow as he looked at her. For a moment, he said nothing, just let the absurdity of her pickle rant settle in the air. Then, a slow, lopsided grin spread across his face, one of those grins that hinted he was trying not to laugh but failing miserably. "Extra pickles, huh?" he drawled, setting his drink down with deliberate ease. "Guess you’ve uncovered the real conspiracy. Whole world’s out here worried about big stuff, and meanwhile, the pickle industry’s just runnin’ wild. Two pickles? That’s their idea of generosity?"

He shook his head, feigning serious disappointment. "Makes you wonder, though... what kinda psychopath orders just one pickle? Like, what does that even say about a person?" Jax leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he studied her, the glint of amusement still dancing in his eyes. "You’re takin’ this pretty hard, though. Should we stage a protest? Pickle signs, chants, the whole deal? ‘Cause I gotta admit, watching you fight for your pickle rights might be the highlight of my week."

His grin turned softer as he tilted his head toward her. "Or, y’know, I could just give you my pickles next time. Keep the peace and all."