#Charlie Hunnam imagine

[secretlysamcro]

BEFORE READING! most of these will probably include spoilers. Some major, some minor, some just giving away plot information. PLEASE check warnings on actual posts. I really don't wanna be the reason your SOA experience is ruined! Basically, if you haven't finished the show then don't read, cause ya girl aint holding back x | ALL stories are written from a female y/n perspective. They are all written in a way that the reader is rarely described having specific looks, sizes etc so that everyone can read and feel included into the role. However, black!reader & plus!size stories are more emphasised on the reader being exactly that! 🫶🏽

Requests: 𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑹𝒀 𝑷𝑰𝑬 𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑹𝒀 𝑷𝑰𝑬 𝑷𝑻 2 𝑲𝑼𝑻𝑻𝑬𝑺 & 𝑩𝑹𝑼𝑰𝑺𝑬𝑺 𝑼𝑵𝑺𝑷𝑶𝑲𝑬𝑵 𝑭𝑬𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑼𝑵𝑺𝑷𝑶𝑲𝑬𝑵 𝑭𝑬𝑬𝑳𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 𝑷𝑻 2 𝑺𝑯𝑬'𝑺 𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑶𝑳𝑫 𝑳𝑨𝑫𝒀 black!reader 𝑮𝑨𝑵𝑮𝑺𝑻𝑨 𝑶𝑭 𝑪𝑯𝑹𝑰𝑺𝑻 𝑴𝒀 𝑭𝑰𝑹𝑺𝑻 𝑭𝑨𝑽𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬 𝑻𝑬𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑬 black!reader 𝑩𝑬𝑮𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑹𝑺 𝑳𝑼𝑪𝑲 black!reader 𝑻𝑯𝑨𝑻 𝑺𝑶𝑭𝑻 𝑺𝑰𝑫𝑬 𝑮𝑶𝑶𝑫 𝑨𝑺 𝑮𝑶𝑳𝑫 𝑩𝑨𝑩𝒀 𝑴𝑨𝑴𝑨 black!reader 𝑨 𝑻𝑯𝑶𝑼𝑺𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑺 visual imagine 𝑨 𝑮𝑰𝑹𝑳 𝑳𝑰𝑲𝑬 𝒀𝑶𝑼 plus!size Pieces inspired by my fav SOA songs: 𝑵𝑬𝑽𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝒀 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑳𝑳 𝑰𝑻'𝑺 𝑮𝑶𝑵𝑬 (has its own masterlist) One shots & headcanons: 𝒀𝑶𝑼 & 𝑱𝑨𝑿 𝑩𝑬𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑭𝑾𝑩 𝒀𝑶𝑼 & 𝑱𝑨𝑿 𝑫𝑰𝑺𝑹𝑬𝑺𝑷𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑷𝑬𝑹 𝑺𝑳𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲 & 𝑵𝑬𝑨𝑻 𝑱𝑨𝑿 𝑯𝑨𝑺 𝑯𝑨𝑫 𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑼𝑮𝑯 𝑶𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑻

Secretlysamcro originals: 𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑺𝑶 𝑳𝑼𝑪𝑲𝒀 black!reader

Please request to your hearts content! They won’t be done straight away, but I will try my best to get ALL done! Also, this is a no judgment zone, anything Jax Teller? Imma do it. (Within reason of course. Don’t be a weirdo)

[vinnieswife]

Patching him after a fight.

Pete Dunham x reader

words: 680

author’s note: How much I love this prompt omg!

It’s well past midnight when you hear the familiar sound of heavy boots on the stairs, slow, deliberate, like each step costs him something. You’re already waiting by the door, nerves twisting in your chest, a first-aid kit sitting on the small kitchen table of his apartment.

When the soft knock finally comes, you’re quick to put your hand on the doorknob, unlocking the door and pulling it open.

Pete stands in the dimly lit hallway, looking exactly how you feared he might, his face bruised, blood trickling from a split lip, and his knuckles torn and raw. His favorite jacket hangs loose from one shoulder, stained with dirt and some blood r.

“Hey, love,” he says with a faint, lopsided grin, trying to play it cool like always. His voice is rough, worn from shouting or maybe just exhaustion after the fight. You can’t help but sigh, both relieved and frustrated. “Jesus Christ, Pete.”

You move,and he steps inside, letting the door close behind him, his body sagging slightly now that he feels safe. He winces when he moves, confirming what you already suspected, he’s hurting more than he shows.

“’S not as bad as it looks, I promise,” he mumbles, but his eyes soften when he sees the worry etched across your face. “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t. I was waiting for you.” You guide him towards the worn out couch, helping him sit down carefully. He doesn’t resist,too tired and too sore to protest.

You grab the first-aid kit and sit on the small coffee table in front of him, your fingers already reaching for his bloodied hands. His knuckles are bruised and swollen, skin split. He watches you quietly as you clean the cuts with gentle, practiced hands, his breath hitching when the peroxide stings. “Hold still,” you murmur, as if he’s about to bolt.

“Ain’t used to someone fussin’ over me,” he says softly, almost amused. His lips twitch into a faint smirk, but there’s something tender in his gaze, something vulnerable he can’t quite hide.

“Maybe someone should,” you counter, wrapping a clean bandage around his hand with careful precision. “You’re not invincible, Pete.” He huffs a quiet laugh, letting you continue your work in silence. You tilt his chin up next, inspecting the gash above his eyebrow. It’s shallow, but it’s still bleeding a little. He watches you closely as you dab at it with a damp cloth, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Did you win?” you ask after a moment, breaking the comfortable silence, trying to sound casual.

“Course we did,” he says with that trademark cockiness, but his voice is softer, almost like he’s trying to reassure you. “Not a scratch on the boys.” You roll your eyes but can’t help the sense of pride warming your chest. “Idiot.”

His hand suddenly covers yours, stilling your careful movements. His fingers are rough, calloused, but his touch is warm, grounding. “I’m alright,” he says quietly, as if sensing the storm of worry still swirling inside you. “I swear.”

You nod, swallowing the lump in your throat, and press a soft kiss to his bruised knuckles, how could the same hands that fight so fiercely, hold you so gently. His breath hitches again, “Come here,” he murmurs, tugging you up and into his lap despite his injuries. His arms wrap around you, pulling you close, as if holding you is the only thing keeping him anchored.

For a long moment, you just sit there, your hands resting against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your fingertips. His grip tightens like he’s afraid you might slip away, even though you’re right there, safe and solid in his arms. You grab the damp cloth cleaning the blood on his lip, also cleaning the trail of blood down his neck. “I hate seeing you like this,” you whisper.

“I know.” His moves closer as his lips brushed against your temple. “But you’re here. That’s what matters.”

And in the quiet of your small apartment, bruised and sore but still standing, he found peace.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

IM ON HERE TO CELEBRATE YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS 🎉🎉🎉 WOOOOT!

Can I pretty please request Jax Teller for prompt #14!?

Thank you!!!!!

Masterlist

Insomnia

Contains: Very mild angst, fluff.

1.2K words

“My eyelids are heavy, but my thoughts are heavier.” - Unknown

You couldn't begin to express how grateful the late nights were less late now that the club was out of guns and drugs. The only downside was that Jax and the rest of the Sons were now just mechanics, they had cars to fix and taxes to file, not meeting deadlines meant parts didn't get bought and paychecks weren't written.

Anxiety still lingered when Jax was away at night, a hold off from the worry that the next phone call would deliver the worst news one could get. Tonight was one of those nights, even though you knew Jax was safe, your brain wouldn't quiet.

The sound of a door opening drew you from your thoughts, "What are you still doing up? It's almost one."

You shrugged, "The usual. I can't sleep when your side of the bed is cold. Your dinner is in the microwave."

Jax gave you a soft smile, "Lucky me because I'm starving. Sit with me while I eat?"

You nodded, "That's my plan." Jax hurried to the kitchen and warmed his dinner before sitting next to you at the dining table, "Did you get all your work done?" 

"You bet, and I've got the whole weekend off so we can sleep in." You could smell the faint hint of oil on his clothes. 

"That's great news, you know how much I love our lazy mornings." If you were lucky, Abel would be there too, between you and Jax. 

"You and me both darlin. How was work?" He must have been hungry, half the food was already gone. 

"The usual." You yawned and Jax reached across the table to hold your hand, "I'm sorry, I guess I was just waiting for you to get home." 

Jax shook his head, "I'm almost done here. I'll hop into the shower then I'll be all yours." 

You sighed, "That sounds perfect." 

"How did Abel go at daycare today?" Jax loved all the pictures Abel drew for him, his locker, his office and his workstation were full of them. 

You smiled, "He had lots of fun today, they got a new water table and he went wild. I had to throw his tiny little shoes in the wash, that's how much fun he had." 

Jax chuckled, "I'll pick him up on Monday, I can't have you having all the fun darlin." 

"Sure, he loves it when you go and get him." You went to take Jax's empty plate from him, but he yanked it away. 

"I'll do that darlin." He rushed it to the sink before drying it and putting it away. Once that was done and he had wiped over the kitchen one last time, he walked back over to you and stretched out his hand, "Shall we?" 

You nodded and took his hand, "We shall." 

The trip to the bedroom was quick, and then Jax was stripping off and hopping into the shower, "You wanna get ready for bed darlin?"

You sighed, "I guess I better try and keep a routine, brushing my teeth and washing my face again won't hurt." 

Steam filled the room as Jax washed the day away and smirked when he caught you staring at him through the shower glass, "See something you like darlin?" 

You nodded, "You know I do Teller." 

The shower flicked off and he stepped out, wrapping the towel around his waist before stopping by the kiss you on the cheek on his way to the bedroom to get dressed. 

With his comfortable grey sweatpants on, he headed to the bed and flicked the heated blanket on your side before fluffing your pillow and peeling back the covers, "Hop in darlin." 

You took your robe off and placed it on the chair, leaving you in just one of Jax's T-Shirts and a pair of panties, then climbed into bed with a sigh, "It's so much better with you here. Maybe we should get a cat so when you're not here, I'm not alone in bed." 

Jax smiled, "I like that idea, we've got the room and it will be good for Abel to have a pet." 

You reached over to the bedside table and picked up the bottle of the lavender lotion but before you could do anything, Jax took it from you, "Let me?" 

You nodded, "I'd like that." 

He started with your arms, rubbing the smooth cream in with broad, firm strokes, "What do we need for a cat? Food, water fountains, a few litter trays and toys. Hell, with Happy's help, we can have one by Monday." 

He pinched your shirt and you pulled it over your head so he could do your shoulders next, "We need a bit more time than that. The kitty should have a catio, that will keep you busy over a few weekends and once that's build and the cat can enjoy the outdoors without killing anything we can get the kitty." 

The corner of Jax's mouth ticked up as he moved to your chest and a thought came over him, "We can tell Abel can't we? He'll want to help." 

Your eye grew heavy as you spun and his hands moved over your back, "Sure we can tell Abel. He'll want to name the kitten and he should come when we pick. Not that it means anything, the cat will pick us." 

You returned to facing him and Jax moved to your legs, rubbing the ache out of your claves, "You've already said you'll let the cat on the bed so I only have one rule, he or she has to stay away from my kutte." 

You chuckled, "You and I both know that's not going to happen, cats do what cats want." 

Jax sighed and placed the bottle back in its spot before picking your book up, "I guess so. How are you feeling now darlin?" 

You smiled, "Great, I'm ready to call it a night." You slid all the way into bed and placed your head on the pillow, "Will you read to me, I love the sound of your voice." 

Jax looked over you fondly, "Of course, darlin, that was my plan when I picked up your book." You had been reading it to him for days, a sweet tale of a little robot in search of life on Mars who made friends with an alien. 

"Rusty lifted his little arm and ticked as he handed the apple slice to his friend, 'Apples are one of human's favourite fruits, you should try some.' The alien took the slice from him with a squeak and ate it in one bite, then gave another squeak of approval at the sweet taste." 

You snuggled closer to Jax and he wrapped his arm around your body, "The Alien squeaked again, then waved its arms before pointing to itself and then to Rusty. The series of squeaks that followed sounded like the robot's name and then another which must have been its own." 

Your eyes felt so heavy as Jax continued, "It made sense when Rusty heard it for a second time, 'Your name is Eldredth? Tell me Eldredth, have you ever had chocolate? It is the best of the human's treats." 

Jax smiled as he felt your chest rise and fall softly under his arm. He put the book and laid down next to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling the blanket up to your neck, "Good night Darlin, I love you." 

Fin

[hotdamnhunnam]

On Your Knees

A/N: So as I noted in this teaser thingy, I don’t really intend to be back on tumblr actively, BUT I just couldn’t resist writing for Kai!! This fic will be smutty, while also providing a bit of backstory that I feel he needs and deserves honestly. I fucking love this guy 💗

Pairing: Kai x F!Reader Warnings: smut (p in v, oral), swearing, dom!Kai, dirty talk (but it’s not until Part 2 that shit gets degrading and dark) Word Count: ~3.8k

“On your knees.”

It’s been forever and a day, since you last laid your eyes on Kai. Since then you’ve searched for him across the whole entire fucking sky. Whatever words you had expected him to say… you never would have dreamt of these.

On your knees.

The blood in your veins is on fire; it burns as the blue of his gaze starts to freeze. The blaze rises higher, so desperate to melt down this fortress of ice that you hadn’t believed you would find. Paid the rumors no mind—he’s a bounty hunter or a gun for hire, who would sell his soul to any well-paying buyer, or so everybody agrees—yet you’ve come here to seek out the true heart of gold that you know lies behind. But all gold can be sold and it seems that he’s taken his fees.

And now he’s set on taking whatever he damn well may please.

Your voice escapes your throat pathetically. “Kai, it’s me…”

Cocks his head. Lifts his brow. Silent laughter at what you just said. Obviously. But who you are doesn’t mean shit to him now. “Aye, I see.”

You might just choke. The heart that never once stopped beating for this godforsaken rogue just fucking broke.

He snickers down as if the beating of your heart is just a joke. The curl of those cruel lips holds even more force than his words. And that’s what brings you to your knees and makes you weak, so weak it hurts, as he comes close and rests his palm against your cheek, piercing your soul straight to the core with just one stroke.

Straight to the core. Summon what strength you have to speak, unsure whether the vows that you once made have any value anymore. “I’ve come back to you just as I swore…”

“Of course,” he utters as those ice-blue eyes seek out and strike the deepest truth in yours. “You’ve come to me just as you were before: still nothing but a worthless fucking whore.”

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

--- Years Earlier ---

“Impressive.”

You smile over your shoulder as he comes up from behind to wrap his arms tightly around you, in a warm embrace that’s all at once affectionate and aggressive. Passionate and possessive. Just as his touch is every night when he pins you to bed and pounds you.

Kai is wildly impressed to see you standing tall at the helm of this ship where he’s found you. The ship is in shambles and beaten down, long since abandoned here out on the plains past the outskirts of town. Still the grandeur of spacefaring vessels like this never fails to astound you. The freedom that they represent gives you hope that someday you and Kai might escape from this planet that’s bound to the rule of a ruthless imperial crown.

Yet this starship is broken and dead. It feels good to stand here for a bit and pretend you can steer it—steer something for once in your life so that you can cling onto what little is left of your spirit, forge on towards the future instead of just having to fear it… but you know it’s best not to let false hope get to your head.

“You’d make a fetching pilot, love,” Kai purrs into your ear while he plants kisses on the soft skin of your neck. “So fucking hot I think you might stir up the engine of this wreck. Won’t be surprised if you just up and fly it off.”

The laughter on your lips melts into his, as you lean back to taste his kiss. “I wish I could. The two of us would fuck shit up in space so good.”

“Aye, that we would.”

For now Kai is more than content to fuck you up against the window of this spacecraft and you both know that’s exactly what’s in store. Know you were put upon this planet just to serve him as his filthy little whore. On any planet you would always be just that and nothing more.

Through the layers of both of your clothes you can feel the thick length of his shaft, pressed up against your lower half. Desperate hands reach into his pants to set him free and grasp at every perfect inch of him that you exist to worship and adore.

“Impressive,” you echo his words from before.

He chuckles in that playfully suggestive, sinful way that always hits you in the slick heat of your core. The man knows he’s massive. He wields his cock like a damn weapon of war.

But with you it’s a war fought for love and he makes it so pure.

It’s just unfathomable to you that this man is fucking yours.

You’ve only ever been to this small corner of the vast expanse of space, yet when you look upon his face, you have no doubt that he’s the most beautiful man in all the universe.

As ever in his presence you’re tempted to fall on your knees. It’s your favorite position: to kneel before him in submission. To swallow his cock till he fills your throat with his delicious release. Kai knows this but is ever the tease. He knows just what you’re wishing, but holds you up right where you are to prevent you from sinking so he can keep kissing your lips, one hand gripping your hips, while the other roams over the parts of your body that nobody else ever sees.

“K-Kai please…”

“What is it you want?” he sadistically taunts, and then animalistically grunts, as he feels the wetness of your cunt.

You can’t speak, at the touch of his fingers exploring the treasures they seek.

So he feeds you the words. “This big cock in that sweet little mouth of yours?”

“Yes—please, yes…!” you gasp, heightening his desire as well as your own as you handle his hardness with long strokes and squeezes, loving how it throbs in your tightening grasp.

Kai loves making you plead, getting off on the way that you moan for him over and over again. Till he’s ready to finally provide what you need. Ready now then he reckons. A wicked smirk crosses his mouth and it threatens to end you this second. “Indeed. Since you’re beggin’.”

At last then he lets you sink down to the floor, where you instantly bury your face in his crotch and start slobbering madly all over his cock because this is what you fucking live for.

He smells and tastes simply divine. Better than any man fucking should. Smash your nose in the fine golden hairs at the base of his dick and get drunk on his scent like it’s wine… swipe your tongue up the length in a sensuous line…God it’s good. The salt and sweetness and the musk with earthy undertones of wood. You know nothing of what gods exist in this world or the next, other than being certain that Kai is a living breathing god of sex.

His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer into him and holding you right fucking there. It’s heaven when he plows your throat. No other feeling could compare. You reach to clutch at the firm muscles of his ass and meet his blue gaze as you eagerly wait for him to unravel and explode. The twinkle in his eye reminds you that you’re his and that he never wants to share, just as he’s yours and no one else deserves the privilege to take his precious load.

You take it down with your cheeks hollowed, throat contracting tight around him as he groans in utter bliss. Your love for him deepens with every drop you’ve swallowed, since the day when you first met and every day and night that’s followed. Didn’t think it would be possible to love him more than this. To be so cock-drunk and so lovestruck… fuck, it’s glorious.

Your worship of him always takes him somewhere far beyond the stars. So fucking far. He loves the whore you are, just as you love the whore he is. The kind of love that heals as deeply as it scars. You’re only whores for one another which is why the love you make is always pure no matter how dirty it is.

He worships you in turn, that filthy mouth on him a fire-breathing sin. Making you burn. Laying his claim to every last inch of your skin and every fiber of your being deep within. Your impulse is to be down on your knees for him but when the man insists on pleasuring your cunt—because for him your pleasure’s always at the forefront—well of course you just give in.

And then he fucks your cunt to pieces to make sure you won’t ever forget that his sex is the reason you’re living.

You can’t begin to wrap your mind around him being so damn perfect. But you sure as hell can wrap your pussy tight around the war weapon that’s pumping deep inside of you so powerfully erect. Both of you like it good and rough, and soon enough, this stranded spaceship’s not the only thing that’s wrecked.

The vessel tilts a little bit with his last thrust; this ship is huge but so is Kai, and he’s apparently so strong that he just rocked the goddamned deck. That shit is so insanely hot you might just die. Combust. Crumble to dust. As you both come down from the high, your pulse is racing and he traces its pace with his parted lips pressed to your neck.

The two of you remain entwined for hours, as you always do. Whispering sweet nothings that you wish could be true. Let’s just pretend this ship is ours. That the universe is ours. That we’ll fly away, and soar the skies someday, just me and you. But nothing is nothing regardless of how sweet it seems, and you can’t fly away from the fact that the universe bows to formidable powers. To forces that devastate dreams, through and through.

To the powers that be. Powers that crush all hopes of ever being free or being happy.

Kai reads your mind as your thoughts drift to that dark place. Knows that it’s time to tell you what he came to say, when he found you aboard this ship today, before he got distracted and ended up fucking your brains out past the farthest reaches of space. It’s not a message that he’s eager to convey. But it’s an order that you can’t really afford to disobey.

Still he wants you to stay, blue eyes begging you to as he softly caresses your face. Yet he knows on some level that dreams of resistance are silly to chase. That the price of just one slice of heaven is steep and there’ll be hell to pay.

He clears his throat and breathes in deep, wishing the price weren’t so damn steep. “Meant to tell you that he’s been… requesting your presence again.”

You had known to expect this. Chosen to neglect this. As if you could run to some empty abandoned starship to hide from the constant demands of that monster who thinks he’s a god among men.

But you can’t and to even attempt this… is useless and reckless. Though Kai referred to the imperial officer’s order as just a request, it was obviously a command. So you stand, smooth your skirt with a trembling hand—knowing Kai wishes he could hold on to you now and protect what is rightfully his—but your honor is yours to defend. No one else’s. All yours in the end.

He knows this too but wishes he didn’t. He hates this part. Watching you leave is the part when he cages his heart, locking it in a block of cement. “So you’ll just run off to him then?”

All too familiar with his defense mechanisms, you don’t halt your rhythm. The whole fiasco of this moment is always the same with him, despite the fact that he must know this isn’t something either one of you enjoys. So rather than rushing to blame him, or letting the swell of emotions inside you erupt into violence, you cast him a side glance, remind him in silence: it’s not as if I have a choice.

Evidently today the cement is much thicker than usual; the next words off his lips at your lack of response come off particularly cruel. “What, lost your dignity and your voice?”

God, he knows how to hit your inner slut, and make her want to die. To bleed her dry. His name escapes your throat in a defeated sigh. “Kai…”

He hates himself right now more than that monstrous fucking officer or anyone at all. Down to his core. Your knees just buckled and he rushes to catch you before you fall, but he’s so broken now himself that you both end up on the floor, down on your knees. The words he’d just uttered were driven by demons he’s struggling to bury—lately there have been a whole lot of these. Pulls you in close and releases his heart from its stone wall, as he dissolves into a mess of regrets and apologies. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Inevitably you end up making love, which is the only answer when words aren’t enough. Soft and slow. But it has to end quickly, because you have somewhere to be. Can’t hold on to the afterglow. Leave before tears overflow. Just a few words then you have to go.

You wish Kai could see things from your point of view. He gives you every reassurance that he gets it; his response earlier was impossibly harsh but he clearly regrets it. Still you can’t help but feel as if he’s disappointed in you. Despite how authoritative the Imperium is and the consequences that are sure to ensue if you stand up against it… he sees your obeying the officer’s orders as something you’re making the choice to do.

And that view baffles you because how could you possibly choose to do something that fucking destroys you?

The officer knows all your weaknesses. If you should ever defy him he’d go after Kai, to hit you where he knows it would hurt you the most and you can’t stand to think or to speak of this. You’d rather die. And your fear of that terrible punishment forces your hand; you must heed his command. Without having to spell this shit out you just wish Kai would understand why.

“I understand,” he says, but he can’t meet your pleading gaze. He’s not quite certain whether what he said is true, and surely you would see right through. Instead looks out the spacecraft window at the distant stars that deign to cast their rays upon this conquered stretch of land. It feels like pity and that shit infuriates him in a million fucking ways. “I understand, I do. It just kills me to think of someone else inside you—”

“Kai, I’ve told you time and time again to trust me that he hasn’t…”

“That’s not even what I meant.”

“It’s what you said.”

With worlds of pain behind his plaintive eyes he reaches out to cup your cheek then smooths his thumb across the creases in your forehead. “What I meant is that I just can’t shake this sense that he’s gotten inside your head. To men like that nothing is sacred. He’s attracted to your spirit ‘cause he knows that he can break it. Wants to wait for you to give your body to him though it’s well within his power to just take it. And whatever little honor you’ve got left down to the final fucking shred… he won’t stop till it’s fucking dead.”

His warning chills you to the bone, because you know it to be true. For better or worse you’ve got some defense mechanisms of your own. Just a few. Brush off his touch and clench your jaw and let a little bit of spite sharpen your tone. “So then what would you have me do? Not all of us can be as honorable as you.”

Now his jaw clenches too. So hard that he might be at risk of breaking it. “The choice is yours, of course,” he mutters, eyes flashing an icy shade of blue. “Just know you’re making it. Don’t hide behind the lie your hand was forced.”

At that you turn to leave him with a scoff, throwing a bitter glare that tells him to fuck off.

But just before you disembark, you catch a glimpse of some metallic thing that glimmers in the dark. The mess of clothes that Kai had flung off of his shoulders when he fucked you up against the window, some hours ago… he’d had a gun tucked in among them and the sight of it right now is fucking stark. You have no reason to be shocked about it though.

He wasn’t hiding it from you; the fact that he’s been packing unauthorized arms is something you already knew. That doesn’t mean it’s something you wanted to know. Seeing this fatal metal thing strikes you as such a blunt reminder of what he intends to do. And you know where it’s bound to go.

Where your gaze and your thoughts wander his always follow. “There’s a strategy session set up for tomorrow,” he states in reference to the folks in your town who believe independence is something that any respectable person would die to defend. Even if it means battling forces against which they can’t even try to contend. “May be able to make concrete plans now that we’ve finally got enough guns stashed in our secret cargo. I already know better than to ask whether you’d want to attend. Guess the answer will always be no.”

The two of you have talked about this countless times before. And every time it turns to fucking when you both can’t bear the talking anymore. It’s irresponsible and immature, but in the rosy throes of youth, it seems to you love is the only fucking truth, the only thing you know for sure. The only thing that’s clear and pure. Love keeps you whole so you don’t fall apart from fear of what your hopeless-looking future has in store.

But you’re not that young, and you can’t just fuck away these pressing issues for that long. He can’t just kiss you to prevent the words from falling off your tongue. He knows it too and so you sit and talk for once and hope shit doesn’t go too wrong.

You admire and love him for being so brave and so strong. Tell him so. But that small band of big-hearted rebels is not somewhere you feel you’ll ever belong. He has to let it go.

And you have to let go of your hope that he might change his mind. That he might decide doing what makes sense to simply survive matters more than misguided delusions of honor chasing after some kind of freedom he won’t ever find.

You tenderly caress his face and feel the warmth of his blood rush to meet your hand. It’s all that you can do to pray his precious blood won’t spill someday fighting a war over some worthless stretch of land. This lovely planet is your home but in your eyes it’s all worth nothing without Kai. “I know how fiercely you believe in your brothers, and in your friends. In the rebellion that all of you have planned. What terrifies me is this feeling that it’s fucking doomed to fail and if you die… I can’t fathom anything worse. Of course I know the choice to fight with them is yours, but for my part I’m not as brave as all the others. I can’t bring myself to stand behind this cause when I’m afraid it won’t be worth it in the end. Please understand.”

Kai leans into your touch and turns his face to kiss your palm, cracking a sad smile to fight the tears that otherwise would come. Unshed they shine like stars hiding behind his eyes so blue. “Aye, I do.”

It’s a lie. Lie as big as the sky. But he hides behind it till it might become true, or at least fucking tries to.

At that it’s time for you to go, fearing that you should have done so hours ago. The sheer pressure of fear shatters you; fact is deep down it shatters him too. He just copes with his hopes and fears in a more complicated way.

“I promise I will always come back to you.” These are the same words that you always say, when you leave—words you fiercely believe—to assure him that nothing could keep you away.

When you leave him with those words Kai usually lets you, eventually once he’s done venting all his pent up rage and dealing every card he has to play. But evidently not today. “You wouldn’t have to. If you’d just stay.”

The way his voice trembles with gentleness, with selflessness, as he abandons every one of his defenses… it fucking kills you when he gets this way. It doesn’t happen often, and it always makes your heart open and soften. “That’s true. Maybe I can keep him waiting just one day…”

His eyes go wide, unable to believe that this is something you would actually decide. It makes him love you even more and suddenly he’s shy and blushing as if he thinks he’s unworthy of the privilege of your touch. “Or just one hour or one minute for I ought to know I shouldn’t ask too much—”

You shut him up with your forefinger pressed against his luscious lip. Provocatively bite your own to make it known that you want him to spend all day fucking you up against this ship.

Last time he did it shook the whole entire deck; maybe this time the sex will be so fucking hot that it’ll set fire to this wreck. Wouldn’t put anything past Kai. It’d be a perfect way to die.

Slamming your back against the window of this wrecked dreadnought, he effortlessly reads your every thought—goddamn that thought just now was a particularly bold one—and from his wicked smirk it’s plain to see that he agrees it would be perfect and insanely fucking hot. “You might want to hold on.”

And you do, clinging closely to him like the sky clings to stars at the coming of dawn. In the bright glare of day they’ll no longer shine through. But that won’t mean they’re gone.

Here tonight, and even if they’re out of sight, come morning light… all the stars in his eyes shine for you. With those stars guiding you, you’ll hold on.

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

… To be continued in Part 2!

The plan is for Part 2 to explore more of the earlier timeline and also carry forward the opening scene of course, which is when dark degrading dom!Kai will be out in full force 🔥

If you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist for this fic (below), just let me know! Much love to all of you 💖

Masterlist

Taglist for this fic (based on responses to the teaser) – @midnightbabylon @rayslittlekitten @pikapuff-316 @youflickedtooharddamnit @laurfilijames @okin-awa @lovebittenbyevans @jmamas92 @theliterarybeldam @dirtytomatoedwrites @ughdontbeboring @netflix-imagines

[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.

[caramara3]

Hey guys!!!

So I just wanted you guys to be up to date with some things happening with my Damian Priest story as well several other coming soon things I am working on.

Since life had gotten in the way for the majority of 2024, one of my biggest resolutions this year was to actually sit down and write down all the story ideas I have and post them here. Well I've been doing just that and am so crazy close showcasing them to you all.

However with all that happening, I'm also doing something insane and removing most of the stuff I already have on here. I say most meaning my Just Friends story and all the extra add-ons attached to it. Things have been happening behind the scenes with it and have given it somewhat of a new(ish), less toxic take that it was going originally and I want you all to see it and everything else with fresh eyes like me!

This is how my manic perfectionist brain works unfortunately but don't be alarmed if all of a sudden things begin to disappear from my page. We are going through a temporary construction and will be back up and running very soon.

Thank you all for being so completely loving and understanding as I try and continue on with this insane writing journey with me. I really wish I was more like some of my favorite writers on here that can just drop fics left and right without breaking a sweat because they are truly amazing at what they do (looking right at you @eringobragh420 and @rootedinrevisions) and I hope that this year I can be just like them.

So just bear with me, the pay out will be worth it. Love you guys!

@beibigirl124 @bonni-98 @bossbitch-22 @queencherryberry @blueblazezz @mzv11 @theworldofotps @eringobragh420 @babiidee28 @jstarr86 @madhatterbri @southerngirl41 @abadbitchblogs @retro-rezz-the-est @shamaness11 @damiansgoodgirll @rootedinrevisions @thedeboniardevistation @lavitabella87 @kultklassickiller @chaneajoyyy @yana3sworld @writinglionqueen @gold--gucciempress @sassymox @msbigredmachine @terrortwinunicorn @cookiebelle @flawlessglamazon @wrestlingbabe @adriennegabriella @joy-of-life88 @daniiwrites @glitterquadricorn @lorena26 @ambreignsfan4life @jazzy-tzw @emjayewrites @ramp-it-up @mauvecherie-writes @trippinsorrows @simplymyself29 @beas-mind @disc0fairy @wrestlingprincess80 @misskukinz95

@joannasteez @hotmessexpressssss @queenofthearchitect @queenoftheworldisdead @msnikkimoneypenny @ms-wwe @skyesthebomb @chaneajoyyy

[hoteldreamss]

William Miller || imagine

Метки: флафф

Слов: 209

Ты нервничаешь, когда поправляешь свои волосы. Твоё отражение вполне устраивает тебя, но ты не знаешь уместно ли выбирала наряд. Это должно быть обычным «барбекю» на заднем дворе. Ты наконец познакомишься с друзьями Увилла, которые всё это время были в разъездах или заняты работой, теперь у тебя есть шанс узнать близкий круг твоего жениха.

— Можем идти? — интересуется Увилл, появляясь позади тебя, обнимая за талию и прижимаясь к твоей спине. — Чудесно выглядишь.

— Спасибо, — произносишь ты, слегка с��ущаясь. — Ты тоже ничего.

Увилл не может сдержать улыбку, пряча лицо в твоих мягких волосах.

— Давай, нам нужно идти. А то опоздаем.

Ты отходишь от зеркала, Увилл следует за тобой. Ваша дорога до дома Тома занимает немного, но этого достаточно, чтобы твои ладошки вспотели.

— Ты им понравишься, — произносит Увилл паркуюсь у аккуратного, средних размеров домика.

— Почему ты так думаешь? — интересуешься ты.

— Потому что ты нравишься мне.

— Только нравлюсь? — ты притворно возмущена, когда Увилл переплетает свои пальцы с твоими, смыкая ваши ладони.

— Я люблю тебя, не важно, что они скажут. — Увилл подносит твою руку к своим губам, оставляя поцелуй на тыльной стороне ладони.

Ты тянешься к Увиллу, забирая быстрый поцелуй на его губах. Выйдя из машины Увилльям ведёт тебя, продолжая держать твою руку со своей. Он знает, что ты понравишься всем его друзьям, обратное просто невозможно.

[carni-val]

I’m so excited that you’re wanting to write for Charlie Hunnam again!!!

You’ve written some of my top favorites fics and I’m excited to read more!

As for requests, I’m always going to request Will Miller, haha I love this character too much ☺️ And don’t get be started on Raymond and Jax

I’m not sure if you’re just wanting names of characters or prompts with the names, so I did that 😅 I’m not too good at coming up with prompt though, but here are my requests:

Will Miller, and maybe it’s a continuation of the one where he and the reader are married and he’s distant after Colombia? Like maybe it’s all fluff or maybe it’s a mix of fluff and angst? I love Will but something about him and angst just gets me 😆

Raymond Smith, and what if he and the reader haven’t seen much of each other and one night she waits up for him to talk with him about it? Maybe it’s angst, maybe it’s fluff?

Jax Teller, and maybe he and the reader are married and it’s just about a day that they spend together with the boys? Or maybe he and the reader go for a ride and it’s them having some time alone because Heaven knows that man needed to just sit and have some peace haha

I hope that these were okay to request, and if you’re not feeling any of them that’s all good; I’m all about what you feel up to writing and doing. And if you wanna switch them up or do something completely different that’s cool too, I’ll just love it either way! ☺️

Have a great rest of your week!!! Sorry this was way too long haha 😅

Fork in the Road [Jax Teller]

pairing: Jax Teller x Reader

summary: You spend a peaceful day with Jax for the first time in a long time.

author’s notes: Thank you so much for your kind words and all of these amazing ideas! I thought I'd jump in with some soft!Jax since that is the chef's special around here. This idea did run away from me a bit and it does get angsty, so I apologize in advance but I hope you enjoy this nonetheless. Thank you for requesting!

warnings: Angst, mentions of death, mentions of a car accident, hospital

song inspo: kitchen fan lullaby (raw) - claire boyer | cardigan - taylor swift

Charlie Hunnam Masterlist | Jax Teller Masterlist

The wind on the coastline guides the smell of the sea straight to your nose and ruffles your hair while you breathe in the bird’s eye view of the picturesque landscape in front of you. The gravel on the dirt road crunches beneath your feet as you take a step closer towards the edge to catch the way the sunlight glistens and glimmers against the waves of the ocean that crash against the shoreline in the distance.

“Don’t go too far,” a voice calls out to you a few feet away.

It startles you for a moment but when you turn your head towards the sound, you find Jax mounting his bike a considerable distance away. Elation fills your heart as you squint to get a better view of him and you laugh, despite the confusion, “Why are you so far away?”

From his bike, Jax watches you over his shoulder as you begin walking towards him.

“You had to stretch your legs, remember?” He prompts when you’re just a few feet away from him now.

“Yeah, I think I definitely did that,” you quip as you gesture to the large distance you just filled all on your own.

“I told you I could help with that but…” Jax trails off, wearing a cheeky grin now.

You roll your eyes and try to fight the grin that stretches across your face. Jax’s boyish laugh only makes you smile harder and you can’t resist placing a kiss on his lips. Everything else except for the warmth of his lips on yours and the feeling of his beard brushing against your skin seems to fade out. Everything goes quiet until there’s only Jax.

When you find the strength in you to pull away, he offers his helmet to you.

“You sure you wanna keep riding?” he tests.

You shake out your legs, the usual ache that comes from riding on the back of his bike now nonexistent. You take his helmet and place it on your head, “Where are we going?”

When Jax wanted to be romantic, he pulled out all the stops and more often than not, his thoughtful gestures always come at the hefty price of patience.

Jax leans over and tightens the strap under your chin so it fits snug against you. The light brush of his fingers on your skin causes heat to rise to your cheeks. He notices and smiles before pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. You bite back a grin as he pats the leathery seat behind him on his bike, “Let’s go.”

You climb on eagerly, “This better be good,” you quip but you know a day away from Charming and the madness it contains within its borders is good in and of itself.

Your arms twine around Jax’s waist before you let your chin rest on his shoulder. Your faces are so close that you can just about feel the brush of his stubbly cheek against yours.

With the sudden pump of his leg, the motorcycle roars to life before settling down to a low rumble.

“So, straight ahead or around the bend?” you quiz, nodding towards the fork in the road in front of you.

“You let me worry about that, darlin’.”

You grin as Jax adjusts in his seat. Your eyes find the water again, noting just how blue it looks today. When you face forward again, your eye lands on the rear view mirror where you can see the small smile Jax wears before taking off down the dirt road.

Seagulls soar and squawk into the blue, cloudless sky underneath the steady rumbling of the engine. The salty air of the sea dances in the air as you take a deep breath and nuzzle your cheek further against Jax’s back that’s covered by the soft fabric of his SAMCRO sweater. Your hands lay against Jax’s torso and occasionally, while he’s cruising, he drops one hand to meet yours. His warm, calloused hand tangled with yours is your only anchor to the present moment. Your heart skips a couple of beats when you feel him run his thumb back and forth against your hand. 

You didn’t think you’d ever know peace like this again considering how bad things have gotten in the MC. If you weren’t careful, you’d fall asleep right on the back of Jax’s bike.

Reluctantly, you open your eyes and meet the blue of the ocean again. You pick up your head and sit up straighter, surprised to still be seeing it considering you’ve been driving for what felt like a couple of hours.

Jax glances at you over his shoulder and smirks, “Quick pit stop?”

He nods to the beach below. You follow his gaze, entranced by the way the water splashes against the rocks and sends the foamy tops spilling out onto the shoreline. Although you’re desperate to know where Jax is taking you, you relent and nod anyway.

Sprinkles of cool ocean water land on your face as you lay next to Jax in the sand. He rests on his forearm and peers down at you with eyes that rival the blue of the water a few feet away. Your elbow rests against his shoulder as your hand lazily plays with the ends of his hair. No words need to be exchanged to see the comfort Jax finds in this moment too. He lets his fingertips lazily run over every dip and curve of your cheek while he brushes away a stray strand of hair. Like a cat desperate for pets, you lean into his touch.

“I like it here with you,” you confess.

“It’s beautiful,” he admits with a smile. You’re surprised to see him turn his head to take in the water before he adds, “Really beautiful.”

You recoil slightly in surprise as a cheeky smile spreads across your face, “I never thought I’d hear you talk about the earth’s beauty.”

Jax stays facing away from you for a moment as he swallows the lump in his throat. When his eyes meet yours again, they’re glassy, causing your smile to falter. You cup his bearded cheek, just as he replies, “I never appreciated it before.”

Before you can speak, Jax leans down and presses his lips to yours tenderly. His warm hand cradles your cheek and you give into him in a split second. His soft lips against yours cause your head to spin, and while you don’t know what brought on the sudden emotion, the feeling of his body weight pressing against yours as he begins to relax tells you he found the comfort he was looking for.

Jax pulls back an inch, studies your face and asks, “Are you sure you wanna keep going?”

The blissed out feeling rushing through your veins has you seriously considering his question for a moment.

“You haven’t told me where we’re going. I think I should know so I can make an informed decision.”

A smirk tugs at his lips but he stays quiet. A gleam in his eye appears and you know that mischievous look all too well. Excitement bursts through you and has you springing to your feet, “I wanna see what you’ve got planned,” you decide before taking off running towards his bike that’s parked on the concrete a short distance away.

Joyous laughter spills out of you and only multiplies when you feel Jax’s strong arms encase you and lift you off of the ground. He presses you against his body and smothers any inch of your face he can reach with kisses. Throughout your uncontrollable laughter, you feel the rumble of his chest against your back as he lets out a chuckle of his own. Now that you’re held hostage in his arms, Jax makes sure to take his time walking the both of you back to his bike.

Back on the road, with your arms wound around Jax brings about a special brand of tranquility that only he can provide. It makes this long ride all the more bearable. With your eyes closed, you can feel his back rising and falling gently, bringing your heavy head along with it. His calloused thumb goes back to stroking the soft skin of your hand and it brings a peaceful smile to your face. If you could stay here forever, you would.

As a matter of fact…

You open your eyes to try and find some clue as to where the two of you are headed, but when you find the picturesque landscape of the ocean again, you recoil in confusion. Looking past Jax’s shoulder, you see that same fork in the road: straight ahead or around the bend. Your eyes narrow in on him, “Okay, I don’t know how the hell you’re doing it, but stop stalling!” you laugh over the noise of the motorcycle, “Just take me there already!”

Jax doesn’t reply, he simply takes another right turn instead of continuing down the straight path. “You realize we have to go back to Charming eventually, right?”

Jax keeps his gaze forward and you almost think he doesn’t hear you but when you’re about to call his name, you feel the bike begin to slow down.

“Do you need a break?” you ask once Jax parks the bike in the middle of the empty road. “Let me stretch for a few minutes,” you climb off of the bike and let out a sigh of relief as you walk around. “If you’re lost, you can just admit that, you know?” you poke, “No shame in asking for help.” As soon as you say that though, you realize there’s nobody to ask. There hasn’t been anybody else on the road but you two.

When you stop walking around in circles, you’re met with the frown on Jax’s face. “What’s wrong?” your breath hitches.

Jax hesitates for a moment, then says, “You have to get off here.”

You recoil, looking all around you at the empty expanse, “In the middle of the road? That’s no way to treat a woman, Teller,” you place a sassy hand on your hip and smirk.

Still, Jax’s face holds a frown. Playfulness evaporates and confusion takes its place, “What are you talking about?”

“I can’t take you any further,” his eyes fall to the ground.

“You’re not making any sense,” you try to keep your calm as you feel the sun beam down harder on you.

“I’m sorry, I just wanted to spend some time with you,” he shakes his head, getting choked up.

“You are,” you step closer to him, “We are.”

You reach out to cup his face but as you do, he turns his head away and looks forward, repelling your touch. When he revs the engine of his bike, reality sets in. He’s really leaving you here.

“What the fuck, Jax?” you clip, “How am I supposed to get home!?”

“Don’t worry about that,” is all he says before he takes off, down the straight path.

“What the— Jax!” you call as you run after his bike that kicks up dust between the two of you. You try to shield your eyes against it as you try to catch up with him, though you know it’s a pathetic attempt. “Jax!” you cry out again, your chest constricting and eyes filling with tears.

When the dust clears, all that’s left ahead of you is the fork in the road. There’s no sign of Jax but you keep calling out his name. You spin around in every direction, trying to get a glimpse of him — or for anyone for that matter.

Your breathing comes out choppy and a sheen of sweat layers over your body underneath the sun that has become blistering. Your eyes fight to stay open against the sunlight that has gotten brighter and brighter until it becomes blinding. It eclipses the scenery around you and forces you to close your eyes.

When you find the strength to open them again, you see the sun, blurry and moving from left to right.

What the fuck?

You blink a few times and your vision finally focuses on…a penlight.

You wince and turn away from the brightness, “Fuck,” you rasp out.

Your heavy head lolls off to the side where you find an infusion pump standing tall over you in a bleak, white room. It’s not until you see it that you hear it beeping.

A tube is attached to it.

You follow it with your eyes to see the other end of it connected to your forearm.

These aren’t your bedsheets. The pale blue against the sickly white tells you it’s a hospital bed.

When your name is called, you turn your head slowly and carefully against the thin pillow propped underneath your head. Your neck aches but when you finally face forward, you see a doctor standing before you with Chibs and Tig behind him, both wearing relieved expressions.

“How are you feeling?” the doctor asks.

You open your mouth to ask him what the hell is going on, but stop when Tig holds up a hand to the doctor, “Just give us a minute, doc.”

The doctor skims over their kuttes before cutting a glance at you to silently ask is this okay? You nod once and wait for him to leave.

When he does, Chibs pulls up a chair next to your bed and sits down. “How are you, lass?”

“What happened?” you look between him and Tig who stands at the foot of your bed.

“You got in a car accident, honey,” Tig replied from the foot of your bed. “Pretty bad spill. We almost lost you there.”

“Jax.” His name flies out faster than you can piece together why. “Where’s Jax? We were driving together. He was there…” you trail off as you notice the pained looks Chibs and Tig share.

The memory comes flooding back to you: you cruising down the freeway in your car after finally maneuvering through aggravating traffic, some idiot making a last minute decision to switch into your lane, him cutting you off, and then…nothing. The details after that are non-existent, not that they matter since a new weight settles onto your chest, “Oh…yeah,” is all you can say once you realize.

“You had some internal bleeding so they took you into surgery,” Tig continues, navigating the conversation away from that pain point.

“They say you’re gonna be fine,” Chibs assures you despite it, “Just need to rest, is all.”

Disappointment cements itself in your heart as you realize you’ve returned to a world without Jax. The pain still hasn’t budged even though it’s been two years since he passed.

But for the sake of the men standing in front of you right now, you plaster on the best smile you can and say, “That’s good.”

[secretlysamcro]

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

Request: “Reader is the well liked bartender at the Sam crow clubhouse who has know Jax and the club since childhood. Jax and reader have essentially become friends with benefits though he secretly hold deeper feelings. Tara comes back to town causing Jax to start icing out reader and placing his focus on Tara. Because of this reader calls the arrangement off with Jax who acts like he doesn’t care at first , however once he sees the reader entertain other men, Jax becomes jealous and possessive and decides to profess his feelings to the reader who shares the same sentiments. This causes a fight that spins into smut 😈They have sex and she decides to be his old lady”

Backstory: y/n & Jax have known each other for years, growing closer in the past year though, since Tara left Charming. Being the favourite bartender in the SAMCRO clubhouse has a lot of benefits. Brothers who have your back, free booze and now, the possibility of being dicked down by the VP whenever the fuck you want. Both you and Jax have already broke the ‘no feelings, just sex’ rule but neither of you have said it out loud but now… you’re both gonna pay for it. Tara’s back on the scene again, and Jax not knowing where his loyalty lies, fucks up…big time.

The sons roll into the SAMCRO parking lot, their engines cutting out one by one. It had been a long run, miles of open road but their business was handled. With just enough tension left to make them want to get drunk.

Jax, the first off his bike, swings off rolling his neck as he leads the way inside. He already knew what the others didn’t, the usual pretty sight wouldn’t be behind the bar tonight.

Chibs stretches his arms over his head, cracking his back “Christ, I need a whiskey”

“Make it two” Tig says, rubbing a hand down his face as they follow Jax inside.

The usual noise was present in the clubhouse. Music playing low but just enough to hear, the usual crow eaters loitering around. The bar however, missing their favourite bartender. No familiar smile, no teasing remarks, no y/n.

Tig let’s out a groan “Where the hell is y/n” he questions.

Chibs looks around with his brows raised, before joining in on the protest. “Aye, place feels off when she’s not here”

Bobby already dropping into a chair, gives a lazy shrug “don’t think she’s working tonight”

“Since when does she ever take a day off” Juice pipes up, sounding personally offended.

“I heard cherry say last night before we left y/n wouldn’t be in” Bobby relays what he had heard.

Jax smirks to himself but stays quiet, heading straight over to the bar and grabbing a beer for himself. He pops the cap off with his teeth before taking a swig.

The clubhouse was alive with conversation and the clinking of glass as the guys settled in. Cherry moved behind the bar filling drinks and flashing flirty smiles, but it never felt the same when y/n was missing.

Jax, sat among them, unbothered as he nursed a beer with his free hand. Every so often, he pulled his phone out, his thumb hovering over the screen as he checks the time. He doesn’t say a word about what or who he was waiting for, and no one bothered to ask.

Across the room, Happy was in his usual spot, sprawled out in a chair with a crow eater draped over each side of him. He moves between them effortlessly, kissing one before turning to the other, his hands roaming over the both of them, not caring about the eyes on him.

Bobby scoffs, nudging Tig before nodding towards what he’s witnessing, “Look at that greedy bastard” he says, shaking his head.

Tig smirks, raising his glass “gotta respect it”.

A low rumble pulls into the lot catching their attention, it wasn’t a bike, but it was just as recognisable.

Jax exhales, knowing exactly who it is. Stretching his back before pushing off the bar. No urgency, no rush just a quiet decision as he turns to walk away, disappearing down the hall.

The others notice Jax slip away, but think nothing of it.

Juice, who was closest to the door, checks outside. “Well, well, well, look who decided to show up”

The second you stepped inside, the air around the room changed. The conversations didn’t stop, but they slowed as all eyes flickered towards you. Your skin, deep brown and glowing under the dim clubhouse light. Your lips full and glossed just enough to catch the reflection. And as always, your hair flawlessly laid in your signature style that never loses its charm. Everyone noticed you, no matter where you went. You were the kind of beautiful that made men reckless.

Tig grinned, tilting his head towards your every move “You know sweetheart, I’d get down on one knee for you”. You scan the room briefly, realising that Jax is missing. Probably already in the place you're headed.

You don't skip a beat as you shoot back at Tig, “Oh really? I heard you’d do the same for Mrs. Venus too” you throw him a quick wink, as you recall how much he had been bragging about her a few nights ago, Tig being a little too drunk to keep his mouth shut. Laughter erupted around the bar as Tig clutched his chest in pretend hurt.

“Brutal” Chibs muttered, shaking his head before downing his drink.

You give a casual wave to the others. They nod, grinning in response. But you don’t slow down or stop to entertain them. Your path is now clear, and its obvious to them where you’re going.

The guys exchange knowing glances, immediately understanding now why Jax had snuck out moments before you entered. They’d been aware of this little thing you two had going on for a while now. It wasn't unusual for the two of you to disappear together, only to return moments later, as if nothing had happened.

Chibs lets out a low whistle, realising the deal “That boys down bad”

Tig rests his head in his hands, sighing dramatically at being rejected by you once again. “Every damn time, man”

You round the corner, Jax leaning against the door with a beaming smile plastered on his face. “You took your time” he says, his voice smooth but teasing.

“Had to get Tiggy off my back” you laugh, playing along.

He lets out a soft, amused breath, stepping aside just enough to let you slide through the door. His body stays in place, but his head follows you, almost mesmerised. As you pass, the brush of your hand just below his belt sends a small jolt through him.

“You coming or what?” you question with anticipation.

he laughs aloud, “trust me, we both will” he responds, his words thick with promise. He's got a devilish grin on his face, as he pushes off the wall, pulling his jeans up a little tighter following you into the dorm, the door clicking behind him.

If only one of you had the guts to speak up first, to admit that this little thing between you went far deeper than just the sex.

A week and a few days had passed since the last time Jax was buried deep within you, the longest time you’d gone this year without having sex, and ever since, something had been off.

At first it was subtle and easy to brush off. But tonight? It’s impossible to ignore and you’re done entertaining his attitude. As usual, the clubhouse was busy, the usual mix of members, hangarounds and crow eaters filling the spaces. You were in your usual spot behind the bar, keeping the drinks full and entertaining the guys with your usual back and forth banter.

He’d been shut off since he walked in, cold and distant, not even a ‘hello’ you’d seen him in his moods before, but this was something different. He was shutting you out completely. So, you decided to return the favor.

“You want a drink? or you just gonna keep standin’ there with your face all screwed up like that?” You ask, one hand on your hip and the other on the pump.

He moves away from the counter as you approach, his jaw tightening. “Nah, I’m good” he barely looks at you.

You let out a sharp laugh “that’s what I thought” you retort, as you move away serving someone else at the opposite side of the bar. The guys pick up on the tension immediately.

“Damn” Tig whispers under his breath, amused at the drastic shift between the two of you. Chibs raises an eyebrow but doesn’t say anything. Jax walking away avoiding any possible questioning.

You weren't directly near them but you could still hear, so when Juice, drunk and loose lipped mumbled something about Tara being back in town and how her and Jax were ‘figuring things out’ the realisation hit you like a brick.

Thats why he’d been so reluctant to touch you, talk to you, or even look at you. Because of her. Because of Tara.

No, you and Jax weren't together, just friends who fucked on the regular. No strings, no feelings. That was the deal. A deal that you had both broken without saying a word.

For a year, it’s been only him, and only you. Nobody else in either of your beds. So finding out he’s there trying to fix things with the one who left him, when just days ago it was you he was fucking. Yeah, it fucking hurts.

You hadn’t spoken to Jax in a week, He barely came up to the bar anymore. When he was at the clubhouse, he stayed hidden in the dorm or locked away in church, anywhere but near you.

Its nearing the end of the night, and you’re ready to leave the bullshit and the mayhem behind. You grab your bag, throwing your things together as you make your move towards the door.

The boys are saying their goodbyes to you as Happy pulls you into one of those brotherly hugs. The kind that always made you feel like you had someone in your corner. “Take care kid” he says into your ear.

You cling on to him for a second longer than usual, needing the warmth and reassurance. He was the older brother you never had, the one who could always read you better than anyone else.

You give a quick wave to the others and head for the door, avoiding Jax at all costs. He was slouched at the back table, watching you with that unreadable look. The same one he’d been giving you for days now, ever since Tara had shown back up. Fuck him though, why should you let him treat you like this.

You slam your car door shut, the sound echoing through the silence. The engine hums as you rub a hand over your face, finally able to breathe. Finally able to feel the weight of everything crashing down. The anger, the hurt, its all there now about to spill over until a knock at the window stops you. The darkness makes the figure hard to recognise, but the flash of those familiar fucking rings, you knew exactly who it was.

Your fists tightens on the wheel as you press the button, the windows sliding down. And there he was, stood with one hand resting on the roof, looking at you as if nothing had changed.

“Not staying? he questions, with that familiar arrogance, as if he expected you to turn around and run back to him.

Your face twists into a snarl “What the fuck would I be stayin’ for?”.

He leans in closer, that pathetic look in his eyes, the one he wears when he knows he’s fucked up “Its been a minute” he taps his finger against the frame, like that was suppose to mean something to you.

You scoff at his audacity, shaking your head “Didn’t notice” you shoot back, your tone less than happy.

He takes a long sigh, “you want me to beg or something?” the defensiveness creeping in.

“Aww, you miss me now? Tara not fucking you like I do?” you respond, the fake sadness in your voice as you scrunch up your face, letting the words sink in.

He stiffens, his jaw clenching, suddenly having nothing to say.

“Yeah, your boy juice runs his mouth when he’s fucking drunk” you snap, chewing the inside of your cheek. “That’s why you been actin’ like that. Cuttin’ me off cause you’re back with her?” You look him in the eye now, your lashes fluttering towards him, waiting for an answer.

Jax exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face, looking like he’s thinking of something to say. Anything to say, but he’s coming up blank. He can see how pissed you are now, the little signs that someone else might not clock onto, but he already has.

He sees the way you keep biting your cheek, the way the curses roll of your tongue like a second language and how your fingers won’t stop twisting the rings on your hand.

“It’s not like that” he finally mutters, but you cut him off before he can even bullshit you.

“Not like what Jax?” You spit out “Not like you’ve been fuckin’ me for a year, sleepin’ in my bed and now shes back, you’ve gone running? Did you forget she was the one that left you?” You sprinkle that little insult at the end, knowing it would hit him where it hurt.

He just stands there silently staring at you, no emotion on his face at all.

You already know the next thing he’s gonna say is gonna piss you off, and when he finally opens his mouth, it does exactly that. Because instead of admitting his feelings for you, he takes the easier route. The one where he’s an asshole.

“It’s not behind your back” he says, once again his voice cold and detached, like none of this fucking matters, like you don’t matter. “No feelings, That’s what we said right?” He’s staring through you, not at you.

“Just sex. That’s all it’s ever been” He tilts his head slightly, acting like he doesn’t care. His lips portraying the tiniest smirk.

Your jaw clenches so fucking tight it aches, but all you can do is laugh. Not because you find this funny but because you cannot believe the audacity of this fucking man.

Deep down, you know Jax feels something for you, but he’d rather choke on it than admit the truth.

“Cool” you mutter, your voice being the one that’s now cold. You lean in, close enough to catch the whiskey haunting his breath. “If you need your dick sucked that bad, call your lil girlfriend”.

He stares back at you, not saying a word. You hold his stare, if he was gonna stop being a pussy and fix this, it was going to be now.

But he doesn’t. He pulls out his phone, taps the screen, the silence so powerful, you even hear the dial tone.

He grins right in your face “Hey Tara, you free tonight?”

The composure that you had left, snaps. You throw your hand up, getting ready to slap the shit out of him, but Jax is too quick, he jerks his head back just in time, and instead of hitting his face your nails rake across his cheek, a sharp deep scratch that immediately starts bleeding. You watch as the fury settles in his eyes.

You stare at him, your heart pounding. But he doesn’t retaliate. He slowly pulls back, his fingers grazing the cut that you had just left.

His eyes narrow as he sees the blood on his hand. He looks back at you, the muscles in his jaw flexing.

“You’re fucking crazy” he says through clenched teeth. Without another word, he watches you slam the car into reverse, your tires screeching as you leave the lot.

He’s fucked up. He knows he has, the second it happened. If he could take it back, he would. But the damage is already done. He’s made his bed, and now he has to lie in it… even if it means someone else other than you, filling the empty space next to him. He lights a cigarette, downing a shot as he waits for the one who broke his heart.

You weren’t even planning on going tonight. The annual SAMCRO cookout. Same faces, same bullshit, and him. Tonight though, you were done hiding. Fuck it, he made his choice and that choice was Tara.

You step out of the shower, the steam curling around you. You drag your nail through the thick lotion, the same nail that left the scar on Jax’s pretty face. Your hands glide over your smooth skin, the moisturizer sinking deep into your rich complexion. Then, comes the dress. The little black one that clings to your body like a second skin, the one he used to pull up with desperate hands. You slip it on, letting it mould to every curve, every dip on your body on display. Next, come your earrings. Big and gold, the shimmer catching against your mocha scented skin. You finish your outfit with your knee high boots and your long leather jacket. Thankfully, your apartment is only a five minute walk away, which works out just fine. Because you already know you’re about to get reckless.

Before you even hit the gates, you can already feel the energy. The music blaring, the smoke from the BBQ rising up, thick and heavy. You can hear the laughter, the chatter and the roar of the bikes as they pile in. The smell of meat grilling in the air, mixed with the familiar smell of trouble.

All the usual suspects, all the familiar shit. Thankfully, you’re not scheduled to work tonight. Gemma always gives you the night off for events like this. She’d rather you be part of the chaos then stuck behind the bar serving drinks.

As you walk into the lot, the place is packed. People spilling out of the clubhouse and bikes lined up like fucking soldiers. You’ve been around the club long enough, worked the bar long enough but for some reason tonight feels different.

“Y/N! You ready for my meat yet?” Tigs voice cuts through the noise, loud as hell. You turn to find him holding a jumbo hot dog, the bastards grinning like he’s just made the best joke in the world.

You roll your eyes as you stroll over, giving him a once over, deciding to play along. He’s standing alongside Chibs and Happy, thankfully no Jax in sight… yet. You’re unsure if they know what had happened the other night between the two of you, and frankly you didn’t give a shit. “And if I said yes?” You ask, matching his banter.

Tig nearly loses his shit. “I mean, who could resist” his smile sharpens. He doesn’t wait for you to respond, shoving the thing in your direction. Without hesitation, you bite down on the end of the hotdog, Tigs eyes jokingly darken as Chibs and Happy Jeer him on.

“How you been?” Happy asks, the way he’s watching you, it’s obvious they know.

You don’t want to go there, not now. So you spin some bullshit about how you just needed some time to yourself, trying to steer the conversation away from whatever the fuck happened with Jax.

Chibs, sensing the tension pulls you over to the side. “Y/N I’m telling you this cause I’ve got love you… we all do. But she’s here with him”.

Your stomach ties in a knot, but you don’t let it show. Of course she fucking is. You give Chibs a quick kiss on the cheek. He knows what’s up, he’s trying to look out for you without betraying Jax and you’re thankful for it, but it still fucking stings.

You push further into the madness. Weaving through the crowd, meeting familiar faces, sharing small talk here and there, but still, no sight of Jax, or her.

“Hey sweetheart” a hand slides over your shoulder and you feel the warmth before you even turn. It’s Gemma. “You smell good” she adds, her voice smooth as she steps closer to you.

"Hey Gem" you greet her, pulling each other into a hug.

She looks you over, a smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "You feeling better?" she gets closer to you as she speaks.

"Yeah, thanks" you reply, forcing a laugh. You know she sees right through your 'I'm too sick to come to work' bullshit.

You and Gemma always got along, she never asked questions she didn't already have the answers to. She knew about you and Jax, even if it was never said out loud. She saw how he softened around you, how much more at ease he was with you, more than anyone else, and as his mother, she appreciated how you helped him get through the aftermath of Tara, even if it was all in secret and never 'official'. She had never gotten along with Tara, even before she left Jax in pieces.

She looks at you, a little deeper than usual. “You know I’d always have your back?” she says, her words are heavy almost like a warning. Its cryptic, but you know exactly what she means. This was her way of saying ‘do what you gotta do’, no matter what’s going on with Jax.

The door creaks open as you step in, it doesn't take long. Jax is sitting at the bar, his back to you and his shoulders relaxed, like nothing ever happened. Tara, sitting next to him whispering too easily in his ear. You fucking hate it, but you force it down.

You take your coat off and adjust your dress before heading straight towards the bar, your heels clicking against the concrete, like a pre warning. Without a second thought, you slide onto the stool, directly next to Tara, close enough, that your thigh nearly brushes hers and close enough to make him fucking suffer. You don't say a word, you don't look at them. You just exist in their space like you fucking belong there.

Juice is behind the bar, pretending to do something useful, but mostly just messing around with bottles. Tara completely oblivious, doesn't even notice the way the air thickens around you. She's still smiling, still talking to Jax, unaware of how the entire room dynamic, has just shifted.

"Tryna steal my job Ortiz?" you say, setting your coat on the side.

Jax hears your voice before he sees you, every muscle in him on edge, knowing you’re close. Juice's eyes immediately flick to you, and then over to Jax. His lip twitches like he's trying to hold in a laugh.

He laughs awkwardly, "someones gotta keep shit in order while you've been off the grid" his words are careful, like he's tiptoeing around a landmine, his eyes continuing to go between you and Jax.

You tilt your head slightly, "hmm" is all you respond.

Juice stands there, unsure of what to do, he rubs a hand over the back of his neck "you want a drink, or you just here to bust my balls?"

“Both” you say with a sweet smile. “whiskey... neat” your tone is effortless, like none of this fucking bothers you.

Jax is watching you. You can feel it, the burn of his eyes into the side of your face. His eyes never leave you. Cold and calculating, almost as if he's trying to figure out your next move but he doesn't say a word. He doesn't need to. He never expected you to show up tonight, and the second he heard you order a whiskey, he fucking knew. He knew tonight was bound to go south. He'd seen you drunk before, and with this shit brewing? Shit was never gonna end clean.

Juice places your drink in front of you, he extends his hand, offering to take your coat too. As soon as you rise from your seat, Jax's eyes drag over you. And then it hits him. That dress. His favourite fucking dress. The one he'd fist in his hands as he fucked you against any available surface. It's hugging every curve, taunting him. His jaw tightens, his fingers flexing against his beer. Fuck, he misses you.

You pick up your glass, turning to leave, but at the last second, you pause. Not for Jax though. For her.

You turn to Tara, your voice laced with fake sweetness "Missed home, huh?"

Jax is almost vibrating with tension, Tara is still completely oblivious. "Yeah, its good to be back" She smiles in your direction.

Jax's jaw is clenching. You still show him no interest. Your Gaze locked on Tara, and he knows, deep down, you're doing it on purpose, and its fucking killing him.

“Thanks Juice,” you say, tossing a grin over your shoulder before heading back into the crowd.

You barely make it outside, before your wrist is yanked, so hard your bracelets are digging into your skin. He pushes you discreetly against the wall outside the club, just out of sight.

His grip is tight, too tight and he’s barely holding himself together.

“You think this is some kind of fucking game?” His voice sounds more like a growl, his nostrils flaring in anger.

You tilt your head, finally giving him the attention he wants.

“Do you?” You say, almost as if you’re challenging him. He tightens his hold for just a second.

“Cut the shit” he growls, his voice rough.

You scoff, moving your face closer towards him, close enough that he can feel your breath on his top lip. “You started it” your voice is sharp and also taunting.

For a second, it feels as if he might snap, grab you or even kiss you, maybe he’ll completely lose it.

But you just smirk, slow and cruel and then you slip free from his grasp, turn and walk away.

He looks up into the air, exhaling a deep breath. A few steps away, stands Gemma witnessing it all.He stands there, his fists clenched as he watches you walk away, like he doesn’t want to chase after you, drag you back to where you belong.

But he doesn’t fucking move.

He doesn’t need to see her, to know she’s making her way over. He can feel it.

“Not now, ma” he says, exhaling hard through his nose and running a hand through his hair.

Gemma scoffs, stepping right up beside him. “I’ve seen you do some stupid shit, but pushing her away for Tara?” She shakes her head in disgust “you must be outta your goddamn mind”

“You don’t know shit” Still, he doesn’t move, his eyes tracking your every movement.

“I know everything, Jackson” she moves closer to him, her face inches from his. “I know watching her walk away is killing you, I know you feel something real for that girl, but I know you’re too much of a stubborn little shit to admit it” Jax goes to speak but she cuts him off just as quick. “So instead. You’re walking around with that stuck up heart breaker who’s already ruined you once?”

He says nothing, shifts his eyes slightly to Gemma, he knows she’s talking the truth, but like she said, he’s way too stubborn.

“Don’t be a goddamn coward Jackson” She shoves past him, her shoulder knocking his as she storms off.

You’ve spent the night effortlessly dodging both Jax and Tara, three drinks in and already you’re feeling the warmth spread through you. The alcohol just about taking the edge off, just enough for you to be able to relax a little.

You’ve caught up with Opie and Donna, laughing over their kids and life. The conversation being easy and light hearted. Opie, not mentioning Jax once. And you’re thankful for it.

You’re currently stood having a quick chat with Unser, the two of you standing next to the BBQ, a joint in hand. He offers, but you politely decline, pulling your own from your purse. Whiskey and weed? Probably not the best combo, but you’re too far gone to care right now. You’re still laughing at the shit show unfolding in front of you. Juice fumbles with the grill, burning nearly everything he touches.

“Give it here” Unser groans, rolling his eyes as he takes over the grill, his face giving that ‘’I’m too old for this shit’ kinda look.

You feel a presence right next to you, it’s unfamiliar but not unwelcome.

“Can I get you a drink?” The voice is deep but smooth. You recognise him but you don’t really know him, you remember the way he checks you out though. He’s one of those faces you always see at these kind of things, someone who’s always there but not quite in the circle.

You look him up and down, dark hair, full of tattoos and broad. He has that rough kind of vibe, but not in the biker way. Out of instinct, you almost decline, but then you remember who you’re dealing with. And if jax wants to play this game, then so can you. You don’t owe him shit.

“Lead the way” you respond, a flirty smile creeping upon your face. Your voice is calm, but inside, you already know what you’re doing.

Jax is sat at a table in the back of the clubhouse, a cigarette burning between his fingers, pretending like he's not coming apart at the seams. Chibs and Tig see it, the tightness in his jaw, the way his knee bounces up and down. But Tara? She's still clueless.

That's when you walk in.

His firm hand rests low on your back, steering you towards the bar. Jax clocks it instantly, he drags hard on his cigarette, the smoke hitting his lungs with force and then, you look at him, just for a second, but long enough to make it clear.

You slide onto a barstool, your body angled just right. Legs crossed, dress rising just enough to make a man sweat, your lips curved in that dangerous smile. But its not for the man in front of you. Its all for Jax.

You laugh, leaning closer, your hand grazing over his arm. Jax watching the whole damn time. He watches as you whisper something into his ear, he watches as you raise your hand, playing with the hairs at the back of his neck, just like you would do for him.

You're playing dirty, and he knows it, and its fucking working.

Jax swirls his glass in his hand, barely listening to whatever the fuck Tara's going on about. The muscles in his forearm flexing with how tight he's holding it. He watches how you bite your lip between sips, how your finger trails down the side of your glass, How you lean in too close when talking to him. He knows you, he knows when you're getting too loose, too reckless.

He shifts in his seat, trying to breathe through it. But its fucking impossible. Tara, grabbing onto his arm, snapping him back to the table "You okay?" He gives a sharp nod, but his eyes don't move off of you.

Chibs and Tig exchange a look, both of them knowing exactly what's about to unfold. They barely have time to react, before either of them try to steady him, he's already on his feet. He looks at Tara, "I’m sorry" he breathes out, the words cold but he doesn't care.

He's done pretending, that 'sorry' means its the end of whatever the fuck they had going on since she's been back. Tara blinks, she’s caught off guard by his bluntness. She cant read him right now, and he doesn't give her any time to try.

He yanks the guy back so fast his drink spills across the table, the glass smashing against the floor. You don’t even feel bad, because your petty plan has worked perfectly.

The room falls into a heavy silence, all eyes now on Jax. Tig and Chibs, already on standby in case shit gets out of hand. But the guy doesn’t even try to fight back. One look at Jax and he’s already backing away, his hands raised in surrender.

You scoff, shaking your head “are you foreal?”

He doesn’t answer, doesn’t even hesitate.

His hand wraps around your upper arm, fingers sinking into your flesh, hard enough to leave marks.

“Get the fuck up” he orders, his voice dangerous.

And that’s exactly what you do.

You let him drag you through the clubhouse, past the staring faces, stepping over the innocent guy who you sucked into your petty little game.

As you pass Tara, you flash her the bitchiest smile you can manage. Loving the way her face tightens, before Jax pulls you out into the cool night air.

She, doesn't even need to think about it, she knows exactly what's going on. Slowly, she picks her bag up from the floor, her hands trembling. She doesn't say a word, just straightens her back like she's maintaining control. But it’s all an act, she knows she's lost him.

Chibs shakes his head, he knows how this is going to end, and its only a matter of time before everything blows up. Tig on the other hand, sits there, grinning like Cheshire cat. He’s always had a twisted love from drama, and this is only the beginning.

He pulls you toward the garage. Shoving open the heavy metal door and yanking you inside. The second the door slams shut behind you both, you know shits about to get real.

Jax is pacing like a caged animal, his movements sharp and erratic. His chest rising and falling in heavy, uneven breaths. Sweat beads lined up in perfect formation along his brow and his hair a damp mess. He looks like a man about to lose his fucking mind.

Meanwhile, you're leaning comfy against the Chevy, which is due to be serviced tomorrow. Arms folded beneath your chest, the alcohol humming through your veins. You've seen Jax like this before, ready to throw hands, ready to tear through anything or anyone in his path. But being the one in his line of fire? its fucking delicious.

His fist slams into the side of the Snap-On toolbox, splitting his knuckles, the blood dripping to the ground.

"FUCK!" he shouts, not in pain but in fucking rage.

He shakes his hand, regaining his composure as he walks closer to you, his eyes full of frustration, and something else you recognise.

"Stop fucking playing with me" he seethes out, his voice thick with warning.

You tilt your head, that infuriating smile back on your face. "Or what?"

His jaw swings side to side, his anger just about contained, but you don't back down, you aint built like that.

"Wait, let me guess…" you taunt, cocking your hips further in his direction "…you don't want me no more, but no one else can have me, right?" your words leave your mouth strong and slow. "Well fuck that, I aint the one”

And that, was all it took.

Jax moves so fast you don't even see it coming. One second, you're testing his patience, the next, his hand is clamped round your throat.

His grip is a warning, a promise even. Anyone else might be scared, but you? you're aching for more, thighs clenched and your pulse racing.

You wanted to push him, to see how far he'd go, and fuck. You’ve got exactly what you wanted.

"You think I don't want you?" he's looking at you, fucking intensely. His grip tightening ever so slightly.

You raise your hands, gripping his. The blood from his knuckles a vibrant contrast against your dark skin. Your nails dig deep, leaving a new set of fresh marks on his flesh.

"YOU BEEN FUCKIN ACTIN LIKE IT! YOU RAN BACK TO THAT BITCH QUICK ENOUGH” Your voice trembles, barely holding your words together.

Jax releases your neck, shoving your hands off him equally as fast. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY Y/N? YOU WANT ME TO SAY SORRY?" His voice echoes through the garage.

You shake your head, the disbelief washing over you. "I don't want your sorry Jax" Your hand hovers where his grip just laced your skin. "I want the fuckin’ truth" you say softly, a desperate edge to your voice.

He knows exactly where you're going with this. This has never just been about sex, and you both knew that this moment was going to come sooner or later. He exhales harshly, his hands against his face like he's praying for some fucking patience.

"Tell me you don't have feelings for me" you whisper, your voice trembling but still powerful. "Tell me you don't love me the way I love you".

Fuck. You just drunkenly confessed you're in love with him. There's no turning back now. You've broken the rules first. The words are out, raw and real and your confession hangs in the air.

Silence.

For a moment, you see it in his eyes, the vulnerability, the fear and the truth he wont fucking say.

But then, just like that, its gone.

Anger rises over you again, you scream, shoving him and pounding your fists against his chest "TELL ME!" you're desperate to hear the words, to know you're not alone in this.

And then, he breaks.

"You want me to say it?" His voice comes out as a low growl, something almost wicked.

Then, he spins you around, your back now in line with his chest.

"Jax! what the fuc-" Your words are cut short. Too distracted by the rough tug of his hands, dragging your dress, his favourite dress, up your thighs and exposing your curves in his most favorite way.

He presses a heavy hand to the centre of your back, forcing you to arch against the hood of the car.

"You wanna hear me say it?" He repeats, his belt clinking as he fumbles to get it undone.

You're so fucking ready for him, you can't even get the words out, but the moan that escapes your lips tells him, its exactly what you want.

His fingers slide between your thighs, parting you, gliding between your wetness.

"You knew it was gonna end like this, didnt you? All fucking wet, begging for it. Thats why you've been pushing me so hard…ain’t that right darlin’" he leans his body weight over you now, his stubble pressed against your cheek.

You laugh under his force, because he's right. This is exactly what you wanted.

And that's what pushes him over the edge, because he knows it too.

He kicks your legs apart, lining himself up perfectly.

And then he's inside of you, burying himself back where he belongs with a slow, dominant thrust.

A broken moan rips from your throat as he fills you, stretching you so perfectly, you can't even breathe. He groans into your ear, gripping your hips so tight you know you'll still be wearing his fingerprints tomorrow.

"Fuck y/n" he's panting fast, dropping his forehead against your shoulder. "You feel so...fucking..." and then, he goes harder, throwing his head back in pure bliss.

The car rocks with every thrust beneath you, your palms flat against the cold metal hood, as he fucks you like he wants to ruin you.

His hands slide up your body, wrapping around your throat once again, tilting your head back so that he can kiss you. It’s deep and messy, just how you like it.

"You wanted the truth?" he breathes out, the impact of his thrusts getting harder. Another loud, elongated moan is your only response.

"I fucking love you" he mutters into your ear as your nails dig into the metal.

He reaches a hand underneath you, circling your clit, slow and deliberate drawing whimpers from your mouth. He knows exactly how you like it.

You lift one leg, draping it over the edge of the hood, giving Jax the freedom to adjust himself. His hands grip your thighs as he pulls you closer, shifting his angle and deepening the connection between the two of you.

"Fuck, this is gonna kill me" He laughs. The garage is too cramped, the car an awkward height for Jax's tallness and the hood is freezing against your back.

You sit up straight, the intensity as strong as ever, he slides his hands down your body, brushing against your skin. You're crashing into the metal shelves, knocking tools over in the process. The loud clanking sounds echo around the room but it doesn't stop either of you. It only adds to the chaos of the moment.

You guide him toward the corner of the garage, Jax kicks off his jeans and boxers in a fast move, his breath quickening, both of your eyes dark with hunger as he slides himself down against the wall. Without wasting another second, you hover above him, slowly sliding down onto his thick cock with a low, breathless moan. You're in control now, and he loves it.

You bury your face into his shoulder, muffling your moans. "Fuck! y/n" he groans, his hands digging into your ass cheeks as he tries to make you move faster.

His eyes burn with need as he watches you fuck yourself on him, rolling your hips in deliberate moves, your moans getting louder with each one. "I love you too" the words escape your lips, Jax's cock twitching in response.

Outside, Chibs, Juice and Tig are making their way to the garage, following after you both in the aftermath of the mayhem you had left behind. They stop for a moment, hearing things knocking around, but the absence of voices has them confused.

"You think they're fucking or fighting in there?" Tig laughs, squeezing Chibs’ shoulders from behind.

Chibs takes a long drag from his cigarette "Who the fuck knows...could be both".

And then they hear it.

The sound of you and Jax coming together, both of your moans filling the air like a perfect fucking harmony.

The desperate guttural sounds of pleasure echoing through the garage, and into the parking lot outside, making it impossible for anyone nearby to ignore. Your soaked walls flutter around his cock as you both hit your peak, your bodies trembling together.

The guys stop dead in their tracks, eyes wide as they all look around at each other in a mixture of disbelief and amusement.

"Yeah… they’re definitely fucking" Tig laughs, they spin on their heels avoiding the garage at all costs. They know exactly what's happening in there, and they sure as hell aren't about to interrupt.

Photos & gifs do not belong to me, just edited together.

If I had a £ for every time I wrote the word fuck or fucking in this story, I’d be fucking rich 💀

Again, please don’t take anything written as a stereotype/generalisation I’m writing from my own black heart lol 🖤

Thank you for your requests! Love a bit of jealous Jax. | Also, apologies for not adding in the old lady bit, I tried and it worked smoother ending it here, but I can always do a part two…

(Slowly getting through one request at a time, so please don’t think I’m ignoring or not doing them, just doing them in the order that they come in)

Jax Teller Masterlist

xoxo secretly samcro

[vinnieswife]

if you write smuts, i beg, anything, whatever that comes to your mind with pete dunham. i love your writing!

Pete dunham x fem!reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: smut! p in v, fingering, unprotected sex, wrap it before you tap it!

author’s note: YES, I do write them but I was in my soft era ig??? hope you like it :) Also english is not my first language, sorry for any mistake!

It’s a little past 9 PM when you hear the familiar sound of the key in the lock, followed by the door swinging open with a bang. Pete’s voice echoes through the shared apartment before you even see him.

“Love! You won’t bloody believe it!” he shouts, his voice bubbling with excitement.

You can’t help but smile to yourself, already knowing what this is about. West Ham had their match today, and from the sound of it, they’d won. You barely have time to put down your book before Pete bursts into the room, his face lit up with that boyish grin of his, cheeks flushed from the cold and pure adrenaline.

“We did it!” he exclaims, dropping his bag to the floor with a thud. “3–1, can you believe it? Bloody hell, what a game!”

Before you can even respond, he’s in front of you, grabbing your face with both hands and pulling you into a fierce, breathless kiss. His lips are warm and slightly chapped from the December air outside, but the way he kisses you—like he’s pouring every ounce of his excitement and energy into you—makes you forget everything else.

When he finally pulls back, he’s grinning at you, his nose brushing against yours. “You should’ve been there,” he says, his voice low and rough. “Best bloody match I’ve ever seen.”

You laugh, still a little dazed from the kiss. “I could hear you shouting at the telly before you left. I think the neighbors could too.”

“Let ’em hear,” he says with a smirk, his hands already sliding down to your waist, pulling you closer. “I’ll shout it from the rooftops if I have to. My team smashed it today, and now…” His lips find yours again, cutting off whatever else he was about to say.

This time, the kiss deepens, his hands tightening their hold on you as he presses you against his chest. His excitement is palpable, and it’s contagious; you can feel it in the way his fingers trail up your sides, in the urgency of his movements.

“Pete-” you manage to say, pulling back slightly to catch your breath, but he doesn’t let you go far. His blue eyes are blazing as he looks down at you, his grin softening into something more intimate.

“You’ve no idea how much I missed you today,” he murmurs, his voice rough and low. “You’re the only thing better than a West Ham win.”

The heat between you only builds from there, your laughter mixing with his low murmurs as he guides you toward the bedroom. Pete kicks the bedroom door shut behind him, not wanting anything to interrupt the intimate moment he has planned. He takes a moment to drink in the sight of you, his eyes roaming over your body appreciatively. "Fuck, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, reaching out to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip.

He leans in, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss. It's a kiss filled with love, with longing, with all the pent-up emotion from being apart for the day. His lips move against yours with a tender intensity, his tongue stroking yours with a sensual rhythm.

Pete's hands start to explore your body, sliding under your (his) shirt to caress the soft skin beneath. He maps out the curves of your waist, the dip of your lower back, the swell of your hips.

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the racing pulse he finds there.

Pete smirks against your skin, feeling your body tremble beneath his touch. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes dark and intense as they meet yours. “You are so fucking gorgeous," he murmurs, his voice a low, seductive rumble.

He starts to undress you with deliberate slowness, his fingers brushing against your skin as he peels your clothes away. He takes his time, savoring the reveal of each new expanse of skin, his eyes drinking in the sight of you hungrily. He took off his shirt in a single movement, his hands moving to unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans, only leaving his boxers on, he walked you to the bed making you lay down as he settles between your thighs, his arms caging you.

His lips found yours in light speed, soft kisses that transformed into needy ones, both of your breaths ragged, his tongue caressing your lower lip asking for entrance, he gripped your hips making you gasp, using that as an excuse to explore your mouth, his kisses were rough but passionate. He broke the kiss with a soft gasp, his forehead resting against yours.

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, a familiar heat pooling low in his belly as your fingers danced along the waistband of his boxers, playing with it. “Please Pete…”

Pete's eyes darkened with desire as he heard the needy plea in your voice. "Please, what, babe?" he asked, his voice a low, teasing rumble. "Tell me what you need." His hands slid up your sides, cupping your breasts through the fabric of your bra.

He leaned down to press hot, open-mouthed kisses to your collarbone, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin. "Do you need me to touch you?" he murmured, his fingers deftly unhooking the back of your bra. "Or maybe..." He pushed the straps down your shoulders, letting the garment fall away. "You need me to taste you?" His mouth drifted lower, his lips brushing over the swell of your breasts. He could feel your heart racing, your breath coming in soft, needy gasps. It spurred him on, urged him to touch you more.

He moved his hand between your thighs, his fingers brushing against your slick, heated flesh. "Fuck love, you're so wet," he groaned, feeling your arousal coating his fingers. He circled your clit with the pads of his fingers, teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves. "All this, just for me?" His other hand slid up your side, cupping your waist.

He slowly eased a finger inside you, groaning at the tight, wet heat that enveloped him. "bloody ‘ell," he murmured, starting to pump his finger in and out, shallow thrusts that gradually deepened. He could feel your walls fluttering around the intrusion, drawing him in deeper. His thumb found your clit, rubbing firm circles over the sensitive nub as he added a second finger, stretching you open. You moaned grabbing his shoulder, crescent moon shapes adorning his skin. A soft red tint painted your and his cheeks, the passion warming up the room. He curled his fingers just right, stroking that perfect spot deep inside that made your toes curl.

His thumb rubbed firm, quick circles over your clit. He groaned, his own arousal growing with each needy sound that fell from your lips. He could feel himself getting harder, his cock straining against the confines of his boxers. He leaned down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your soft cries of pleasure. His tongue delved into your mouth, tangling with yours. He could feel your body starting to tense, your walls beginning to flutter around his fingers.

"Come for me, love," he encouraged, his voice a low, urgent growl against your lips. "Are you gonna come apart in my fingers, mhm?" He rubbed your clit harder, faster, his fingers plunging deep and curling just right. Pete could feel your body tensing, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps against his lips. "Yes, that's it... come on," he urged, his fingers moving faster, determined to bring you to that peak of ecstasy.

He could sense you were close, your walls starting to quiver and clench around his plunging fingers.“Pete… god” your nails scratched his back, marking him, as whimpers escaped your throat.

With a few more deep, targeted thrusts of his fingers and a particularly hard press against your clit, he felt your body go rigid. Your back arched off the bed, your head thrown back in a silent scream of rapture as your orgasm crashed over you like a tidal wave. He could feel your walls clamping down around his fingers as you came hard. He worked you through it, his fingers never stopping their relentless assault, drawing out your pleasure until you were boneless and spent. Pete gentled his touches, slowly easing you down from the intense high. "That's my girl," he murmured.

Your hand wandered down Pete’s chest caressing his skin with the tip of your fingers until you reached the waistband of his boxers, pulling it and making it smack against his skin, you saw his abs contract, his eyes closed as he grunted. “Are you enjoying this?” You teased, knowing how he would react. Finally your hand touched him where he needed it the most, you palmed him through the fabric of the boxers, his arms faltered as his hips jerk forward into your touch. "Fuck-," he groaned, his voice strained with need. The friction of your hand rubbing over his clothed length sent sparks of pleasure shooting up his spine. He knew he needed more.

His hand slid down to grip your hips, squeezing and kneading the soft flesh. You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and began to tug them down, he hissed as his aching cock sprang free, slapping against his stomach. Pete shuddered as your fingers wrapped around him, a low groan escaping his lips. "Oh fuck, yes..." he hissed, his hips rocking into your touch, seeking more of that perfect friction.

His hand slid down to grip your thighs, squeezing and kneading the soft skin as you stroked him. He watched through hooded eyes as you worked his length, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. He could feel the pleasure building with each pump of your fist, the heat pooling in his belly. He knew he wouldn't last long if you kept touching him like this. "I need to be inside you," he said, his voice low and urgent. He gently moved your hand away from him, he angled his tip towards your entrance,and with a swift, hard thrust, he buried himself inside you, hilting deep in your heat. “Fuck, love” he groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as your walls clenched around him like a vice. Your body felt incredibly hot despite the cold weather outside, he could make you feel like no one does, feeling his short breath in your name sent shivers down your spine, your hands found their home on his back, feeling his muscles tense and contract.

He paused for a moment, savoring the feeling of being fully sheathed inside you, peppering kisses down your neck and shoulder. Then, he began to move, pulling out slowly until just the tip remained inside, before slamming back in, burying himself to the hilt. He set a hard but slow pace, the bed creaking beneath you with the force of his thrusts.

He could feel the tension building at the base of his spine. He wanted to feel you come first, wanted to make this amazing for you. "Come on, darlin’," he encouraged, his voice a low, urgent growl. His hand snaked between your bodies, finding your clit, rubbing calculated and tight circles, determined to push you over the edge. His hands did wonders on you, the circles on your clit, his pants of your name in your ear, the way is cock nudged at your sweet spot perfectly.

Your body was tensing, your walls starting to flutter and clench around his pistoning cock. He could feel his own release barreling towards him, he shifted the angle of his hips, making sure to hit that sweet spot deep inside with every powerful thrust. "I'm so close, I can't..." he panted, his breath hot against your ear. “Fuck Pete, right there…” your eyes were shut, the pleasure to much to bear it.

With a sharp cry of you his name, your body went rigid beneath him as your orgasm crashed over you like a tsunami. Your velvet walls clamped down around his pistoning cock, gripping and fluttering as you came. Your nails leaving red trails on his back. The sensation was too much for him to withstand, and with a hoarse groan of your name, he followed you over the edge.

Pete's hips jerked and stuttered as he buried himself to the hilt inside your spasming heat, his cock pulsing and throbbing as he spilled himself deep within you. His body shuddered above you as the intense pleasure consumed him, you could feel the muscles on his back tense, your name falling from his lips in a litany of bliss.

Finally, with a last weak groan, he collapsed against you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. He panted harshly against your neck, his skin slick with sweat, his heart racing in his chest. You two lay there trying to catch your breaths. “If this is what i get, the West Ham should win more often,” you giggled caressing pete’s short hair, you could feel him giggle in your ear, before leaning in to kiss you again. This time, it was slower, more deliberate, as if he wanted to savor the moment.

You sighed contentedly, your hands sliding down to rest on his shoulders. “Pete,” you whispered, feeling his lips curl into a smile against yours.

���Hmm?” he hummed, his hands caressing your cheek lovingly.

“I love you,” you saw his grin widen, as he attacked your face with kisses. “And I love you even more, love.”

As the evening stretched on, you couldn’t help but marvel at how the simplest things—like a stupid West Ham victory—could bring so much joy. His happiness is infectious, and tonight, you don’t mind letting him show you just how much he’s celebrating.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

The Reaper and the Death Angel Epilogue

Prologue Part 66

Series Masterlist

Well dear readers, this is end. Thank you so much for coming on this ride with me.

Contains: Nothing but the fluffiest of fluff and smut

8.6 K words

Comment if you want to be tagged/removed or follow #the reaper and the death angel.

“This was our own kind of fairy tale, and I knew we had finally reached the happily ever after." -  Juliana Haygert

"Morning beloved."

Jax sighed and cracked open one eye to look at the clock, "Good morning darlin. We slept late."

You nodded, "Yes we did, but that's not the end of the world. It's not even a two hours drive."

Jax smiled and cupped your cheek with his warm hand, "We're married."

You smiled, "We are. You wanna go downstairs? I'm sure we have a full house."

Jax nodded, "Why not, we can even stay for a long brunch since you did all out packing three days ago." Jax closed the distance and kissed you and you laid your hand on his cheek as the kiss deepened.

You pulled away after giving him one last peck and ran your thumb over his cheek, "We have plenty of time to do what's on your mind over the next week and a half and we really have to get going so no funny business."

Jax chuckled, "Alright, but the moment we're alone in the house you're all mine."

You kissed his cheek and got up, "Don't be silly Jackson, I'm yours already."

You headed downstairs after you and Jax shared a quick shower, and Jax threw your bags into the car while you fixed him a meal. Everyone was still there, and while they looked tired, they were smiling.

"How did we do with the clean up?" Kozik sounded so smug.

You smiled, "You guys did amazing, it's like we never even had a party."

Billy chuckled, "Don't let them take all the credit, we stayed back and helped even though they lost the bet."

Jax returned and fluffed Abel's hair, "Well, we're grateful regardless of who did the work." He turned to you with a smile, "The car's all packed darlin."

You handed Jax his plate and sighed, "Once we've had something to eat we'll go."

"We could always just give you a month's worth of meed and lock you in your bedroom." Hodgins had been smiling like a schoolgirl since your vows, you guessed because he and Angela talked about what he wrote that fateful day.

Jax smirked and you shook your head, "Don't go looking like that Teller, the soul purpose of that was so the couple made a baby."

Jax laughed, "Don't worry darlin, I would miss our fully booked itinerary for the world."

Sam shook his head, "You created an itinerary for your honeymoon. Ima and I just… We didn't have one."

You held back a smile, "Oh, there's plenty of free time and I'm not going to elaborate."

Sam screwed up his face, "Please don't."

Jax leaned in and buried his face in Abel's hair, "We better get going darlin."

You nodded, "Of course." You walked over to them and Abel reached out for your hand, "Daddy and I will be back soon but you can call us everyday and we'll only be two hours away."

Abel smiled, "I know mummy, I'll miss you."

You took a deep breath, Jax may have been away from him for fourteen months but this was the longest you would be away from him.

You pressed a kiss to his forehead, "I'll miss you too sweetie."

****

This was the first time you were happy about being a passenger in your own car, "So the fridge is fully stocked with all our favourites and there's a cabin about a mile away where the Anvil staff come and go, however, there's someone staying at another safehouse in the area so they'll be busy."

Jax's eyes didn't leave the road, "Who's in the safehouse."

You rolled your eyes, "You know I can't tell you that."

Jax smirked, "Come on y/n, we're married, your secrets are my secrets."

You sighed, "It's a senator, he wanted a holiday and that's all I'm going to say."

Jax chuckled, "I can get it out of you."

You shook your head, "Well, you can try. We're almost there and the road is about to get rough so can you pay attention. If you fuck up my car on your first real day as my husband I'm not going to be happy."

Jax took one hand off the wheel and placed it on your upper thigh, "Don't worry about that darlin, I ain't going to let anything happen."

Jax eyes almost popped out of his head when you reached the lakehouse, between the private lake and the beautiful house, he had no idea where to look, "Wow, this place is amazing."

You nodded, "Yep and see that big bay window?" Jax's eyes landed on the circular window that stuck out from the face of the house, "That's the main bedroom."

Jax grinned, "That is amazing." You went to grab a bag but Jax stopped you, "I'll do that darlin, what kind of husband would I be if I let my wife carried heavy bags?"

You wrinkled your eyebrows, "A husband who knows his wife can handle it?"

Jax shook his head, "Nope, I'll get the bags, you open up."

You sighed, "Fine my love, hell, I'll even let you light the fire."

Jax paused his task of getting the bag and pulled you into his arms, "And if your perfect planning is anything to go by, we have a few hours before our restaurant reservation." It was clear by this tone what was on his mind.

You tried to dodge it, "Yeah, well I thought we could have a snack and go for a walk, the forest is so nice right now."

Jax bit his lower lip, "Oh, I could go for a snack."

You shook your head, "What you're thinking of eating has no nutritional benefit."

He ran his thumb down your neck to your shirt and played with the buttons, "Come on darlin, we both know how much you'll enjoy it."

You sighed, "After a snack and a walk."

Jax smirked, "I'll make it worth you while."

You leaned in and pressed your lips to his neck and Jax let out a grunt as your teeth nipped his skin, "You better."

****

The world had narrowed to Jax's mouth on your flesh. He had one arm pressing down your hips and the other wrapped around your leg like a vice to hold you open. You had lost count of the passing minutes and Jax seemed determined to wring every last ounce of pleasure from your bones.

You thought about tugging on his hair but had reached the point of resigning to Jax's will long ago. You couldn't even whimper as you crested the peak again, your vision going white as Jax held you tight to him. Jax finally took mercy on you, pulling away from your centre and placing gentle kisses on your thighs as you came down.

Jax made his way up your body, stopping to kiss your skin as he went along. His smile was smug as he took in your heaving chest and sweat damp face, "You good?"

By the look in his eyes, you didn't manage the glare you were trying for, "Am I good? I can't feel my feet. You are such a dick."

Jax chuckled, "Sorry darlin, you were making such pretty noises." You lifted your head off the pillow and pressed your lips to his, tasing yourself on him as Jax's hand cupped your face. You ran a hand down his bare chest but Jax stopped you before you reached his belt, "Don't worry about me y/n, there's plenty of time for that when we get back from dinner."

"But…"

Jax shook his head, "No buts."

You sighed, "Alright, I need a nap, and a shower."

Jax chuckled, "I'm alright with that." He took you in his arms and you rested your head on his chest, "You ever been to this place?"

You nodded, "Once when we were here buying the place, it's nice."

Jax stroked your bare back and buried his nose in your hair, "I can't wait."

****

Jax plucked your coat off the hook and slid it over your shoulders before heading for the door. Jax was just in his flannel so you pointed to his kutte with a quizzical expression, "You're not wearing your kutte?"

Jax shook his head, "I just want to be your husband for the night, it's not like you're wearing your lab coat."

You wrinkled your eyebrows, "That's different. I love you the way you are Jax, the MC and all."

Jax walked over to you and took you into his arms, "I know, but we're honeymooning in a small town with no one around and I want to go to a nice restaurant and just enjoy my night." He held up a hand, "And I know what you're going to say, I don't care about people looking either. I want to spend the next week and a half as just your husband."

You knew there was no point in protesting, "Ok Jax."

You pressed your lips to his and Jax smiled into the kiss, "We better head off darlin."

You and Jax walked arm in arm to the car and you didn't even bother protesting before handing Jax the keys, "Don't get used to it."

He smirked, "Shouldn't a husband drive his wife everywhere?"

You shook your head, "Not in her car."

Jax opened your door for you and pecked your check, "I'll make it up to you later."

The drive to the restaurant was short and peaceful. Jax pulled up to the small parking lot and helped you out of the car before opening the main doors for you. You headed to the host stand and gave your name and they led you to the nicest table by the fire.

Jax looked around with his eyes wide, "This place is super fancy."

You nodded, "It's got two Michelin stars."

Jax reached across the table and grabbed your hand, "I've never eaten at a Michelin star restaurant before."

"Well, do you want me to order for you?" The menu was pretty simple but Jax loved it when you helped him try new things.

He squeezed your hand and, right on cue, the waiter wandered over, "How is your evening?"

You smiled, "Wonderful, thank you for asking."

The waiter gestured to the menu, "Are you ready to order?"

You nodded, "My husband and I will get the chef's choice please, two large dishes and two to share and whatever wine will go with it. And two desserts, please."

The waiter smiled, "Brillant, that's what we always suggest. The food will be out in twenty minutes and I’ll get your wine for you now.”

"I wonder what we'll get." You could see how excited Jax was.

You shrugged, "We'll see but I think it will be good."

Exactly twenty minutes later, the waiter came out with the serving plater piled high, "Sole meunière, escargot, coq au vin and a lentil salad with goat cheese, pared with the Château Margaux 2001 that I brought out earlier. I will bring dessert when you are done with your mains."

Jax blinked and sipped his wine, "What do I try first?"

You shrugged, "Well since we're sharing everything it doesn't matter but I'm trying the Sole meunière first."

Jax raised an eyebrow, "Which is?"

You pointed to the fish, "That one."

****

Jax sat back in his chair and sighed, the Creme Burle and chocolate mouse polished off along with the bubbly dessert wine, "I couldn't eat another thing."

You chuckled, "Thank God, I don't think I could take it."

Jax gave you a look, "On second thoughts."

You shook your head, "Don't you even think about it, I have plans for when we get home and you are not going to spoil them."

Jax smirked, "Then we better get home." His eye wrinkled as you stood up and he pointed to the food, "What about the check?"

You waved your hand, "Already dealt with. I can't say much but Anvil has done a lot for this place so you don't need to worry about it."

Jax blinked, "I'm not going to ask."

You nodded, "That's a good idea." You held out our arm and Jax looped his around it, "Shall we?"

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, "We shall."

The drive home was just as nice as the drive and there and the moment you were out of the car, Jax was kicking off his shoes and racing to the bedroom to light the fire.

You sat on the bed watching as the warm light filled the room with gentle heat and Jax swaggered over to you and stood between your legs, "So these plans of yours, you wanna tell me what they are?"

You smiled and stood up, running your hands down the buttons of his shirt, "Whatever you would like husband?"

You admired Jax's ability to pull himself together because as soon desperation crossed his face, it was gone, "My choice?"

You nodded, "Yep, you're choice."

Jax leaned down and kissed you gently before kissing his way across your cheek to whisper in your ear as his hands pushed your dress off your shoulders and into the floor, "On your stomach, you know how much I love your crow."

****

"How can a small town have so many fancy shops?" Jax pointed to the sign, "Larry's Creamery, best butter on one the west coast, this place has won awards."

You nodded, "Yep. They do everything, including raising the cows."

Jax threw his arm over your shoulder, "When I read make butter and go on the factory tour, I did not think you meant like this."

You smiled, "Oh my love, we're not using the big fancy metal machines. We're going to make our own artesian butter using a Victorian churn."

Jax shook his head and sighed as you reached the rest of the tour group, "Darlin, there's no one under fifty here."

You nodded, "It's a quiet town. Trust me, it's a good way to spend a day."

A woman in a bright red apron came out of the small barn style shop front with a smile on her face and her arms loaded with steal buckets, "Hello everyone, I'm Edith and I'm so happy you could all come today. In a moment, I'm going to hand a bucket and we'll head to the pasture to milk our cows. Show of hands who's done that before."

Your hand shot up and Jax chuckled, "Of course you have."

You bumped him with your elbow, "Behave dear."

The woman continued, "after we've got our fresh milk, we'll take it to our dairy, where we'll make the butter and after that, while the butter getting nice and cold in the iceboxes, we'll go on the factory tour."

You pressed your lips to Jax's chin and took his hand, "Have you ever done this before Teller?"

He shook his head, "Nope but you know how much I love it when you explain things to me." Jax brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, "Have I told you that I love you today?"

You nodded, "Yes, three times in fact. I love you too Jackson."

You walked to the pasture hand in hand and arrived at the grassy field. Edith yelled out and pointed to a stack of wooden stools, "Our ladies are well trained and love people, they walked over to where you put the stool."

Jax raced off and came back with two stools in hand and a smile on his face, "How about over there?"

Jax pointed to a flat area where the grass was already eaten, "That looks great my love."

Sure enough, the moment to stool was down a cow wandered over and mooed happily as you reached out, "I'm glad you volunteered Darlin, you're good at that."

You shook your head and stood up, "Swap with me, you're learning how to do this." Jax blinked, "Come on, it's not that hard. What kind of wife would I be if I didn't get you to try new things."

Jax took your seat and you leaned over, wrapping your hand around his to show him how to do it as a grin grew on his face, "This is easy."

You nodded, "As easy as pie."

Jax chuckled, "As easy as butter you mean?"

You pressed your lips to his cheek, "You are a bucket of laughs Teller."

****

The dairy looked like something out of a historical YouTuube video, with its white tile walls and dark wood fixings. After you washed your hands, a man in a candy stripper vest wandered out of a back room and stood in front of everyone with a smile, "Hello everyone, my name's Barry and I'm the head butter maker here at the creamery."

He walked over to a cupboard and threw the doors open, "In here, we have all our different flavours, all at your disposal. Please head over and pick something, or don't, our nothing but salt and cream is one of our best sellers."

Jax pointed towards the shelves, "What are we going to make darlin?"

You looked over the jars, "Well since it's raw milk, they have to salt it so what about, lemon and garlic?"

Jax smiled, "That sounds great darlin."

You headed over to the cupboard and returned a few moments later with the ingredients and waited for the next instructions, "Now way back when, you would have had to scald all your equipment but we do that for you so you're going to take that fancy spoon by the churn and skim the cream off, you'll know when you've got it all because the liquid will run through the spoon and leave nothing."

You handed it to Jax who pecked the tip of your nose, "Thank you darlin."

It didn't take long until all the cream was in the butter churn and you were ready for the next step, "Now this is why this is a group activity because you are going to take turns churning the butter. These are plunder churners so all you need to do is lift the plunger up and down, you can even give it a bit of a twist. Once the butter starts to form, throw the cloth on your table around the top so you don't splash. Don't work to fast, keep a nice steady pace."

Jax watched as you took the plunger and started to churn the cream, "You've done this before too, haven't you?"

You nodded, "Yep, it's fun."

Jax chuckled, "Of course you have. How long is this going to take?"

You thought for a moment, "It's a little chilly so a while. You know, men weren't allowed in dairies way back when, they saying was that 'men only brought dust into a dairy', so you should enjoy it while it lasts."

Jax chuckled, "Really, you wanna tell me more?"

You nodded, "That had to be kept very clean and you couldn't make butter when you were in a bad mood. Also, some kinds of butter are made from fresh milk like ours and some kinds of butter are made from sour milk. This is called a dairy because it's small, the business is called a creamery because that's what they used to call large butter factories."

He wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder, "Why couldn't you make butter in a bad mood?"

"Because they were worried it would make it taste bad." Jax had that tone in his voice like a little kid ready for school, "Although, I don't know how your nerd kink would make the butter taste."

Jax chuckled, "I guess we're about to find out."

You swapped with Jax halfway through and before you knew it, there was a ball of butter at the bottom of the churn. Once the same had happened to everyone, Barry walked to the top of the classroom again. "Now for the next step, you're going to squeeze and wash your butter. If you want to keep the butter milk, we have little glass bottles there for you."

You handed the ball of butter you had just wrapped in cheesecloth to Jax and pointed to the bowl of ice water on the table, "Put those big strong hands to use and squeeze."

Jax sighed, "Now's who's the one being kinky."

You shook your head, "Teller, if you want this butter to last us it has to have no buttermilk in in. I'm being practical."

Jax gave you a look, "Sure darlin."

Jax watched Barry carefully as he went through the steps on how to clean the butter and then he was handing you the yellow ball so you could flavour it, "Are you sure this is going to taste good darlin?"

You nodded, "Yes I am, would you like to try some?" His eyebrows wrinkled, "Just take a tiny bit."

Jax did as you asked and smiled as it melted over his tongue, "Wow, that's good."

You smiled, "Yes it is. Now I'm going to wrap it all up nice and put it in the fridge with our buttermilk. We can get it after we go look at all the fancy machines."

Jax grinned, "Whatever you want wife."

****

Jax looked around at all the stainless steel and rolled his shoulder, "Why did we have to spend all that time using that old thing when we could have just used that?"

You chuckled, "Well, we've got the couples massage tomorrow, so you won't need to worry about your aching much longer."

Jax smiled softly and wrapped his arm around your waist, "Sam's right, you should be running the country."

You shook your head, "No one wants that, plus do you really want to be the first, first gentleman?"

Jax smirked, "I like the ring of that, we can have church in the oval office."

You raised an eyebrow, "Oh, I would have thought you would have wanted to use the oval office for other things?"

Jax leaned in close and his lips brushed your ear, "That reminds me, I have a fantasy I want to fulfil."

You shook your head, "No, we are not fucking a foot away from where my brother sits."

Jax chuckled, "How did you know I was going to say that and not that I want to call you Madam President?" You gave him a look and he bit his lower lip, "Ok darlin, I'm guilty. You gotta admit you'd enjoy it."

You sighed, "I would, and I may have thought about the same thing myself but that doesn't change the fact that it would be weird."

Jax seemed to concede but you could still see a flicker in his eye, "Oh well, there's always my office and the garage, and T-M's office and the bar."

You put your palm to your face, "You are insufferable." You pointed to the machines the group had just walked to, the tour guide's voice floating in, "Now stop trying to get into my pants, they're about to show us how they wrap the butter."

****

You yawned and settled into the passenger seat, Jax rolling his shoulders before driving off, "I had fun today darlin."

You smiled, "So did I. I was thinking we could go for a dip when we get home? The lake is lovely this time of year."

Jax nodded, "I'd love that, maybe after the dip we can have some fun on the deck?"

You held back a giggle, "Ooo, you want to look at the lake grass under my portable microscope? It's in the trunk."

Jax smirked and leaned over the centre console and took your face in his hands, "We can do that but that's not what I was thinking of."

You tilted your head and kissed him, "I know. We can have some fun on the deck after the swim."

****

Jax groaned and rolled out of bed, "Who knew making butter was so hard."

"I don't think it was the butter making that made you sore Jackson." You wondered if the pattern of the wood of the deck had bruised itself into your flesh.

Jax shrugged, "It was worth it." He threw on his clothes and swaggered over to you before wrapping his hand around your hip and pulling you close, "When do these massage people get here?"

You looked at the clock on the bedside table, "An hour, we have time for breakfast and a walk."

Jax smiled, "I like the sound of that."

****

You held open the door while Jax went to help the masseuses with their tables. Once that was done and all their supplies were set up, they introduced themselves, Klaus and Ryan, both men from Baldur's company.

They left while you and Jax disrobed, going to the kitchen to heat up their oils and over to the softly burning fire to light the burners for the hot rocks. You could feel Jax's eye on you as you got comfortable and he took the towel and placed it over your backside before you had the chance to stretch backwards and do it yourself, "Thank you my love."

Jax smirked, "It's the least I can do darlin." Once Jax had covered himself, Klaus and Ryan returned with their warm oils and hot rocks. The tables were close enough that if you reached out, you could grab Jax's hand but far enough apart that one person could stand between them.

Klaus smiled as your fingers touched Jax's and cleared his throat before tapping your shoulder, "Are you ready to start?"

You nodded, "Yes please." Jax groaned and you twisted your head to see Ryan already rubbing out Jax's sore muscles, "Good my love?"

Jax groaned again, "Amazing."

You sighed as Klaus' warm hands found a knot in your back and began to rub it out, "How long have you go left on your honeymoon?"

You held back a moan when you felt something hot be placed on your lower back, "Is that too hot?"

You shook your head, "No, it's nice."

"What's going on over there darlin?" Jax sounded half asleep.

"There are hot rocks on my back." It felt so nice, the moment you got home, you were going to set up a recurring appointment for you and Jax.

Jax must have been thinking the same thing, "How does this work anyway, do you guys travel all over the place?"

The table shifted as Ryan put his weight on Jax's shoulder, "Yes, we normally work in Oakland but Baldur insisted we come up here for your honeymoon. You are lucky, we are some of his best masseuses, we are normally booked out for weeks."

"If we book your guys now, well there be free spots?" You heard Jax chuckle and your table creaked as Kalus moved to your legs.

Ryan smiled and shot a look at Klaus, "Of course. We will look through our books once we're done here."

Kalus hadn't missed the way Jax looked over at you every time you made a noise, no matter how soft, "You know, we teach classes, maybe you could do this for each other."

"Oh, I would like that very much." Jax would be good at this, he already jumped at the chance any time he could.

"That settles it, when can we start?" Jax sounded so smug.

"Ahhh, I have the best husband ever."

****

Jax sighed and relaxed into the wicker chair, "I still don't know if I have bones."

You chuckled, "You still have bones, don't worry. Anyway, you don't need bones to taste local, home grown and artisanal food."

Jax smirked at you, "Are you going to feed me grapes?"

You huffed, "Only off a toothpick, we are in public my love."

Just before Jax could try and charm his way into more, a woman walked out into the courtyard, followed by people carrying large wooden trays. Jax's eyes went wide as one was placed on your table and you slapped his shoulder lovingly, "How are you always hungry?" The look on Jax's face said it all, "Not like that Teller."

Jax went to pick up a fig and you slapped his hand, "Dude wait, they're going to explain everything and you have to eat it all in order."

Jax shook his head, "It wasn't for me, I know how much you like figs."

You sighed, "I do my love but with food tastings there's a way to eat things so it tastes the best it can, now pay attention."

"Hello all, I'm Mindy and welcome to feeding your lover local food tasting. Today's spread is the best local and seasonal food on offer. You'll see a range of fruit, pickles, meats and cheeses. First, you should try the roasted feta with blackberry honey, it's the one with the toothpick with bee flag."

The smirk on Jax's face grew and he picked the square of cheese off the wood and held it up to your mouth. It was a wonderful mix of creamy, salty and sweet and melted away as you ate it, "Well, what's it like darlin?"

You didn't reply right away, instead, grabbing the second piece and offering it to Jax, "Tell me yourself."

Jax had a similar response, his head nodding unconsciously as he enjoyed the flavour, "That's really good. I wonder what's next."

"Next, you can try the fresh sugar strawberries, which are some of the sweetest in the world." There was no toothpick this time and you could feel the heat coming off Jax.

You went first, the look in Jax's eyes positively lustful, "We're still in public, keep it PG." That was easier said than done as his plump lips opened to bite the fruit, "I can't take you anywhere."

Jax swallowed his bite and leaned in close to whisper in your ear, "You know they sell these at the gift shop, we can always buy them and take them somewhere where this doesn't have to be PG."

You sighed, "You don't think that was my plan? Right now, I want to enjoy the rest of our afternoon."

Jax smiled, "Of course darlin."

****

Jax looked over you fondly as you took in the outside of the old mine, "Darlin, you haven't told me anything, just that we're going to be here all day."

You nodded, "Yes, this is the Carson Sliver mine. This building which used to be the miner's mess, is a museum, across the way is the entrance to the mine shaft which is meant to be hunted and it's a two mile walk from another set of caves which hosts an amazing underground lake."

Jax's eyes went wide, "Wow, that is amazing. Where are we going first?"

You smiled, "Inside the museum, then to the unground lake, then I managed to change dinner at my old OC's holiday cabin to lunch at the restaurant then down into the mine."

Jax's head shook slightly, "So we're going to pair a four mile walk with lunch with your old OC and his wife and spending time in a possibly haunted silver mine? Darlin, I know you live dangerously but don't you think you're asking for trouble?"

You shook your head, "Nope, the walk is lovely. The forest in the area has been rehabbed and it's flat route all the way. Lunch will be quick and the food is nice and there's no such thing as ghosts. We'll be home before bedtime. We can always go back home and lazy around, there's still figs and strawberries in the fridge."

Jax shook his head, "We're standing outside a museum and I can see you vibrating with excitement, we ain't going anywhere but inside."

You smiled and grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers with his, "I love you so much."

Jax sighed, "I love you too y/n." He stepped closer to the door and his eyebrows wrinkled, "It's closed?"

You shook your head and knocked, "Not for us it isn't. I got us a private tour."

The door swung open and a man who looked like someone out of the 1920s stepped out, "Hello y/n, you must be Jackson, I'm Melvil and I run the museum here."

Jax smiled slightly, "Hey man, how do you know my wife?"

Melvil grinned, "We met at her lab, her department helped us identify a whole bunch of tools. Y/n speaks very highly of you so I was over the moon when she said she was coming here with you for your honeymoon."

Jax grinned and threw his arm around you, "Is that right darlin?"

You nodded, "Of course it is, I always speak highly of you."

Jax pressed a kiss to your cheek, "How about we head in? I can tell how excited you are."

Melvil gestured through the door, "This way folks." The museum was simple, three medium sized rooms with enough displays to keep you and Jax occupied for an hour or two, "I can even show you stuff in the back, but first," he pointed to the display, "This is one of the main tables the miners eat their food on. Over on the wall we have the range of tools used by the level one miners."

Jax looked over the excitement on your face and leaned in to whisper in your ear, "I love you so much darlin."

You turned your head and pecked his cheek, "I love you too. He's going to show us the level two miner tools next, how fun!"

Jax sighed, "Yes, that is fun."

****

You stepped out of the building two hours later and headed down the trail to the underground lake. The forest path was dotted with benches and water fountains and every now and then you and Jax paused to read the signs about local flora and fauna.

Jax sighed as he read over the sign about the California mule deer, "We have to do this every year and bring Abel, he would enjoy this so much."

You nodded, "Great idea, I think we can pull a week once a year for our anniversary. I do miss him, he could ride on your shoulders."

Jax smiled, "He's so cute." He paused for a moment and took a breath, "You think he's doing alright without us?"

"I think he's doing fine. He's spending all his time with Addie." Addie was all Abel talked about during the nightly video call.

Jax pulled you closer and buried his face in your hair, "He's growing up so fast."

"Come on, we better keep going. Don't you want to be able to read all the signs."

The rest of the walk was very much the same until you walked right through the mouth of the cave, "How far down is this thing?"

You pointed to the metal plate on the wall, "It's a ten minute walk and it's pretty flat all the way, we're not going very deep." Jax raised an eyebrow and you shook your head, "This isn't a porno Jax."

The corner of Jax's lips ticked upwards and he wrapped his hand around your hips as he pulled you to his side, "We better go in, we don't want to miss lunch."

You sighed, "Lead the way, you can't get lost." Jax held you tight as you took the rock path down as it widened into a clearing, "Isn't it amazing?"

Jax didn't know where to look, from the still, dark water to the rough walls of the cave, "It's amazing. I can't believe I didn't know this was here."

You chuckled, "We can go to the edge and see if we can find some cave fish, I saw a few the last time I visited."

Jax grinned, "I'd really like that darlin."

****

The walk back was just as wonderful as the walk there, with Jax's hand in yours as you took in the scenery. Hughes was already sitting at the restaurant with his wife Peta when you arrived.

"Jackson, y/n, it's good to see you again." He smiled and gestured towards his wife, "This is Peta, she's been excited to meet you Jackson."

She stood up and extended a hand, "James and y/n have said great things about you, it's good to finally meet you Jackson."

Jax flashed her a grin, "The pleasure is all mine Ma'am, we wouldn't be here if you didn't get your husband to give me a chance."

"Really Jax? That wasn't necessary." You hoped this wouldn't cause things to take a step back.

James raised a hand, "It's ok y/n, Jax is right. Shall we eat? The menu looks interesting."

"It's a mining themed restaurant, a lot of it is the food they used to eat in the mines. I'd recommend the meat pie." The food was good, all be it a bit heavy.

"What about the beef stew in a bread bowl?" You could tell that Jax had worked up an appetite by the way he was looking at the menu.

"It's very good. You can't go wrong with any of the dishes here." You pointed to the menu, "I'm getting the roast beef sandwich with fries."

Jax chuckled, "Maybe we should order the miner lunch too and take it with us down the miner, you know, to keep the ghosts happy."

You shook your head, "More like keep the cave roaches happy."

****

You nodded, "Yes, I am, there's no such thing as ghosts Jackson."

Jax smirked, "You seem so sure, you wanna make a bet?"

"One that I'm positive I'm going to win. Why not." You had an idea about why Jax was bringing this up, "What do I get when I win?"

"Me." Jax threw his arm over your shoulder as you headed to the elevator and huffed as you strapped the hard hat over his head, "Really darlin? I could have done that myself."

"Nope, if you die in a mysterious mining accident, I'll be the first one they blame, so I got to make sure it's perfect." You put on your own helmet and nodded to the guide who pressed a button to descend the elevator.

Once you got to the mine floor, the door opened and the guide stepped out, "This mine was founded almost two hundred years ago when silver was founded while men dug a water well. We've had six major cave ins, five of which resulted in deaths. There have been many reports of supernatural activity, including voices and the banging of pick axes but we let out visitors decide for themseves."

You sighed and looped your arm around Jax's, "Don't worry husband, I'll protect you from all the ghosts and ghouls."

Jax chuckled, "Sure you will. You ever found a body in a mine?"

You nodded, "Heaps. Have you ever heard of the Siyah nehir cave? It was found under an emerald mine."

Jax's eyes wrinkled, "I have. Sam has a framed photo of it."

"That's because I named it. After we found a whole bunch of bodies in the mine above. I went looking and fell into one of the antechambers." Jax blinked, "It was like a four foot fall, the worst I got was a bruise but I got to name a cave."

He shook his head, "What else don't I know about you?"

You shrugged, "There's probably a lot, like there's a lot I don't know about you but we have our whole lives to learn."

Jax huffed, "I'm an open book y/n, you know everything there is to know."

"No, I don't, it just hasn't come up yet." You could see the wheels turning in his head.

He shook his head, "Nope, nothing."

There was a fork in the path and the guide pointed down one path, "Now I know that y/n has climbing experiences so I'm sure you'll enjoy what comes next. Down the other way is more of the same, we even have some sliver veins you can mine but down that way is a hole that leads somewhere really fun, but you have the drop line in. It's up to you."

You turned to Jax, "I can help you out, it's easy."

Jax smiled, "We'll take the cool one."

The guide smiled and took you down the path before handing you a harness, "It's seven and a half feet to the bottom so if it all goes to hell you'll be fine but we still want to be safe."

You waved your hand, "I'm an hat old at this, I'll get us sorted." You threw on your own harness, then slowly walked Jax through the steps until you were ready to clip in, "Are you ready my love?" He nodded, "Great, all you have to do is hold on and the pullies will do the rest."

Jax smirked, "Sounds good darlin, if you hear me screaming it's just the cave monsters."

You shook your head, "Just get in the hole Teller." You watched as he went down, his headlamp slowly illuminated the space.

He gave you a shout when he hit the bottom and you followed, going much faster and landing with far more grace than he did, "That was so hot."

You slapped his chest, "We are not having sex down here so keep it to yourself." The guide landed a few moments later and she headed towards the wall and flipped a switch as light filled the area. You were on a small balcony section looking over a huge stalagnate cave.

"Wow, this was so worth the wedgy." You got closer to the edge and it only grew more amazing, there was another camber deeper and further away filled with shallowed, still water.

There was a slight echo as you spoke, "So worth it."

The guide was grinning, "They found evidence of human activty in the water over there, we believe it's an ancient ritual site."

You nodded, "We're heard all about that in the museum, by the time it was found, most of the stalactites and stalagmites had met and you could only get it to with robots."

She sighed, "We're hoping one day we can afford the best technology so we can look closer."

You smiled, "I can get that to you, we have it where I work."

Jax's face broke into a grin, "I don't know why you didn't think of that sooner."

You shook your head, "I'll be sure to put your name in the paper." You turned to the guide, "Let's head up and I'll talk to your boss. Get our names on the discovery and let my lab in on it and you can have whatever equipment and funding you want."

Her fists clenched with excitement, "Oh, what wonderful news. This is such wonderful news."

Jax smiled and pressed his lips to your cheek, "You love making people happy, don't you darlin."

You nodded, "We have no way of knowing how long all the artifacts in there will last. One day Abel is going to come here and see our names on the wall and know we helped preserve a piece of history."

****

You and Jax stepped out the office with smiles on your faces, "So I guess we'll be back here in a month?"

You nodded, "Yep, there are bodies lower in that cave and this kind of new discovery trumps casework. I have to say, is going to be good to take a break from all the horror."

Jax pulled you into his arms and took your face in his hands, "Let's get back to the lake house, we have one more night to enjoy before we go back home."

You pressed your lips to his, "I'd like that."

Jax started to kiss you the moment you got in the door, as the glass let in the last of the sunlight.

His lips made their way to your neck and he nibbled the skin before speaking, "You better make the most of out last night here darlin." You slid your shirt off your shoulders and then practically ripped Jax's shirt off and threw it in the corner, "Hey, I liked that shirt."

You giggled, "It's payback for my clothes you've ripped, I'm pretty sure I've replaced half my underpants, since this started."

Jax nipped your skin harder as he worked in your jeans, "Yeah and now we're married so I should probably start on the other half. I'll buy you more."

You sighed, "Jackson, you know how much I love it when you buy me lingerie but it's not exactly practical. You have a thing for straps and lace."

Jax smirked and pecked your lips, "What can I say, I married a dime piece."

"Oh Jackson, you are such a cheese ball." You took his face in your hands and pulled him into a kiss, all loving and slow, "But I love you for it."

He slid one hand from your zipper, around your body and up your back to unclasp your bra, freeing it before brushing the straps off your shoulder and taking your hand, "Let's take this to the bedroom."

You nodded, "I would like that."

He took your hand and walked you upstairs and you grabbed his belt as you settled in the middle of the room. You ran your finger up and down the buckle and Jax tutted, "Must you tease me?"

You nodded, "Oh yes, I must." You smirked and slowly undid his belt while leaning in close and nibbling his jaw, "I love you so much."

Jax moved his hands from your hips back to your belt and pulled it free of the loop before yanking down your jeans and panties in one go. You huffed and did the same to him and Jax let out a groan as the pressure lifted from his cock.

Jax's lips found yours and you walked backwards towards the bed, your knees bending as Jax eased you both down to the mattress. He wrapped his arms around your body and pulled you to his chest as he kissed you senseless and you wove your hands into his hair as the kiss grew even deeper.

You dragged yourself up the bed and rested on the pillows, Jax's lips never leaving yours as you settled. You hooked your leg over his hip and flipped over, Jax chuckling as you ground yourself down onto him, "You right there darlin?"

You nodded and ground down harder, "I am." As Jax lifted his hands to place them on your hips, you intercepted him and linked your hands with his, "Can I suck your dick?"

Jax sighed, "You're killing me here."

You bent down and kissed him then pulled back with a smile, "That's not a yes my love."

"Yes, yes you can suck my dick." You held onto Jax's hands as you made your way down his body, stopping to nip his pec along the way. You kissed over his hips and down his happy trail then down his thighs and back up again. You released one of Jax's hands so he could hold your cheek as you took the tip of his cock into your mouth.

Jax grunted as you took him down further and his hips bucked when you used your hand to stroke what your mouth couldn't reach, "Fucking hell that feels good."

You moaned an affirmative and Jax's hand moved to the back of your head to keep you where you were. The praise steamed from his mouth but before you could push him over the edge, he was yanking you up, "I don't want to cum just yet darlin."

You kissed your way back up his body and landed on his lips as Jax mirrored your early roll and flipped on top of you. You shove his chest loving, "Control freak."

"You love it." He pulled your leg over his and slotted himself between your legs to grind his hard cock on your slit.

"I do." Jax ran his hand down your body while dipping his head to kiss you. He shifted so he could shove his hand between your legs and you sighed as his fingers went right for your clit.

"I fucking love how wet you get when you suck my dick." He sounded so smug. His fingers slid down your centre before circling your entrance and slipping inside you as his palm rocked against your clit.

The heat in your pelvis grew as his fingers picked up speed, but before you could get too close to the edge, Jax stopped, "I want to feel you cum around my cock." He pulled his fingers away and sucked them into his mouth with a moan before pulling your leg back over his hip.

Jax slid home slowly, his eyes meeting yours and he bottomed out. He paused and rubbed your nose with his, "My wife."

You titled your head and kissed him as he started to rock his hips, "My husband." You buried your face in his neck as his fingers found your clit and his hips slowly picked up speed.

He pressed his cheek to yours and you threw your other leg other his waist so you could match his pace. You ran your hand up his back all the way around to his cheek and directed his lips back to yours. The kiss was nothing but affection and warmth and Jax swallowed down every one of your moans as he angled his hips to brush your G-spot with each stroke.

"Come on darlin, I can feel how close you are." You whimpered as Jax's teeth nipped your lower lip but he only continued thrusting his hips as his fingers sped up, "I can feel how close you are, be a good girl and let go for me, I'm right behind you."

You were powerless to resist his request and Jax's hips stuttered as you fell over the edge. Your orgasm pushed Jax's into his and he moaned like a dying man as he collapsed on top of you. He took you in his arms as he rolled over and pulled you to his chest, "That was perfect."

You chuckled, "Yes it was and think, we've got another forty years of that."

Jax shot you a look, "Try sixty, if you don't think we'll be one of those weird couples in the nursing home, you got another thing coming."

"Well right now I'm thinking about how we're going home tomorrow." The week and a half away had been wonderful but you couldn't say you didn't miss Charming.

Jax cupped your cheek and pecked you, "It's alright darlin, we'll be back here for your new project."

You sighed, "Yes, we will."

****

It was good to be back in Charming again. You and Jax didn't intent on it, but it was almost dinner by the time you got in the door, Abel rushing up to you with his little arms swinging.

"Mummy, Daddy, I missed you." He hugged you both as tight as he could, and it hit you how much you had missed him, even with the video calls every night.

Despite how wonderful the bed at the lack house was, it was good to be back in your own bed, what was better was the knock on the door between you and Abel's room that came when you were settled, "I'll get it darlin."

When Jax opened the door, Abel was standing there with his blanket in hand, smiling, "Can I sleep with you and mummy tonight?"

Jax smiled, "Of course little man." He picked Abel up and carried him to the bed and Abel climbed between the you. Like always, he laid down facing you and Jax got in next to him before snuggling as close as he could and throwing his arms over both of you.

You reached your arm over Abel after fluffing his hair and a moment of calm settled, there were no more wolves at the door, no more storms on the horizon. Everything was right with the world and you knew it was going to stay that way. , "Goodnight beloved, I love you."

Jax smiled, "Good night darlin, I love you too."

The End

@withmyteeth @camelia35 @watercolorskyy

[hotdamnhunnam]

On Your Knees (fic teaser)

UPDATE: This fic is now posted!

A/N: Hello my dears! It’s been a minute since I’ve posted on here. I still intend to be inactive for the most part, BUT of course Kai has stolen and broken my heart, and this “on your knees” gif struck at my inner slut 💘 So here we are! This is a teaser for a fic that will have lots of smut, while also giving Kai some backstory that I feel he deserves and I wanted to share what I’ve got so far!

“On your knees.”

It’s been forever and a day, since you last laid your eyes on Kai. Since then you’ve searched for him across the whole entire fucking sky. Whatever words you had expected him to say… you never would have dreamt of these.

On your knees.

The blood in your veins is on fire; it burns as the blue of his gaze starts to freeze. The blaze rises higher, so desperate to melt down this fortress of ice that you hadn’t believed you would find. Paid the rumors no mind—he’s a bounty hunter or a gun for hire, who would sell his soul to any well-paying buyer, or so everybody agrees—yet you’ve come here to seek out the true heart of gold that you know lies behind. But all gold can be sold and it seems that he’s taken his fees.

And now he’s set on taking whatever he damn well may please.

Your voice escapes your throat pathetically. “Kai, it’s me…”

Cocks his head. Lifts his brow. Silent laughter at what you just said. Obviously. But who you are doesn’t mean shit to him now. “Aye, I see.”

You might just choke. The heart that never once stopped beating for this godforsaken rogue just fucking broke.

He snickers down as if the beating of your heart is just a joke. The curl of those cruel lips holds even more force than his words. And that’s what brings you to your knees and makes you weak, so weak it hurts, as he comes close and rests his palm against your cheek, piercing your soul straight to the core with just one stroke.

Straight to the core. Summon what strength you have to speak, unsure whether the vows that you once made have any value anymore. “I’ve come back to you just as I swore…”

“Of course,” he utters as those ice-blue eyes seek out and strike the deepest truth in yours. “You’ve come to me just as you were before: still nothing but a worthless fucking whore.”

--- End teaser ---

If you’d like to be tagged in this fic if and when I post it, just let me know! I don’t plan to tag my full taglist since that list was from aeons ago 🙃

As always much love to all of my fellow Hunnam hoes! 💕

[charmingsoa]

✶ Where the Wild Things Are: Three ✶ ■ 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 @ghostlyteacups @yelchinweasleylothbrok

“What does that say?”

As I strained my eyes to decipher the hastily scribbled grocery list, a sense of curiosity mingled with apprehension crept over me.

"Molasses?" I muttered to myself, puzzled by the seemingly random assortment of items the guys had jotted down. Gemma had entrusted me with the task of procuring supplies for the party scheduled for that evening, a gathering that seemed to hold a special significance for the denizens of the club.

Rumors circulated among the women who frequented the garage that the impending celebration was not just any ordinary affair; it was, in fact, a veiled homage to the enigmatic figure of Thomas Teller, the unspoken son whose presence loomed large over the club. Despite my three-month tenure in Charming and my proximity to the club, discussions regarding Thomas Teller were few and far between.

Gemma, with her characteristic candor, would occasionally broach the subject of Thomas, only to be met with stony silence from Jackson and Clay. The mere mention of the younger Teller seemed to evoke a palpable discomfort among the group, shrouding his identity in a cloak of mystery and intrigue.

As I raised my head from the perplexing grocery list, a deep voice jolted me out of my reverie. My gaze met the steady, yet kind eyes of a tall man standing beside me, his presence commanding attention in the bustling store.

"Need help with something?" he inquired, his tone warm and inviting.

Surprised by the sudden interaction, I stammered, "Excuse me?" My confusion was met with a reassuring smile that never wavered from his face as he gracefully moved closer, exuding an air of confidence and authority.

His uniform, crisply tailored and adorned with a gleaming gold star, hinted at a position of respect and responsibility. The badge on his chest caught the light, casting a radiant glow that seemed to illuminate his aura.

"You just looked a little lost – need help finding that item on your paper?" he offered, his offer of assistance genuine and sincere.

With a chuckle, I glanced back and forth between the kind stranger and the jumbled list in my hand. "No, just trying to read chicken scratch is all," I admitted with a smile. "I'm just guessing at this point and hoping I'm right."

As the stranger's eyes crinkled with amusement and he chuckled softly in response to my comment, I offered a small word of thanks before turning the corner, the cart's wheels protesting with a squeak under the pressure of my push. The aisles of the store seemed to stretch endlessly, filled with the soft hum of shoppers and the occasional rustle of products being restocked.

"Miss, wait—" the man's voice called out, his body swiftly catching up to me moments later. His voice was gentle yet insistent, prompting me to pause in my tracks as I glanced back at him.

"I didn't get to catch your name?" he inquired, his eyes holding a glint of curiosity and warmth.

I hesitated for a moment, struck by the unexpected turn of events and the genuine interest in his question. With a soft smile, I turned fully towards him, the aisles of the store fading into the background as our brief encounter took center stage.

"Oh, um –“ I stumbled. “Catherine. My name is Catherine.”

His smile widened. “You got a last name, Catherine?” His eyes sparkled with mischief; a playful glint that made my heart skip a beat.

His smile causing me to smile back, “Yeah, it’s Landry. Catherine Landry.” The air between us seemed to crackle with a newfound energy, a connection forged in the unlikeliest of places.

“Well Catherine Landry, I know everyone in this town, and I never laid my eyes on the likes of you. Wanna tell me how that happened?”

I watched as he politely acknowledged the older woman that walked past us in the aisle – the woman greeting him as Sheriff Hale.

I shuffled nervously on my sandaled feet, feeling a mix of apprehension. "Oh, well, I got here about three months ago," I began, noticing his eyes narrowing in curiosity as he listened intently.

"I was actually on my way to San Francisco, but a group of bikers picked me up and brought me here, and I've been here ever since."

He stayed silent for a moment, his expression unreadable as he leaned against the shelf, absorbing my story. "Bikers? You talkin about the Sons of Anarchy?" he inquired, a hint of recognition coloring his voice.

I nodded my head, "Yeah, I've been helping out at their garage, and Gemma and Clay have been letting me stay at their place until I can get on my feet. Everyone's been real friendly," I shared, a warmth in my voice as I spoke of the unexpected hospitality I had received.

A loud sigh escaped from the sheriff's pursed lips, his expression turning serious as he leaned his head back. "Darlin—" he began, his tone weighed down with a sense of caution. "Nothin' about that group is friendly – trust me." His words hung heavy in the air, casting a shadow of doubt over the rosy picture I had painted in my mind.

A confused look floated over my face, uncertainty creeping into my thoughts as I processed his warning. "Especially when it comes to the Teller family and their band of goons," he added, his gaze steady and unwavering.

The atmosphere between us shifted palpably, the once easy camaraderie giving way to a tense undercurrent as the sheriff's words lingered in the space between us. His close proximity, once a source of comfort, now felt stifling, the weight of unspoken truths hanging heavy in the air.

"Well, when they pick a random girl up in the middle of nowhere after she was abandoned by some asshole in the dead of night, I think that's pretty genuine of them. Especially since they never asked for anything in return," I retorted, my voice tinged with a hint of disdain.

As I stood there, the sheriff's gaze piercing through me, I felt a surge of defiance rising within me. The bond forged with the bikers, flawed as it may be, held a sense of authenticity that transcended the sheriff's warnings and doubts. In a town where secrets whispered in the shadows, I clung to the glimmer of connection and acceptance that had found me in the most unlikely of places.

 "All I'm sayin is for a beautiful girl such as yourself, those men, the Teller brothers included, want nothing more than to use you for their own satisfaction and then spit you out when they're done with ya," His words cutting through the charged silence like a knife, his warning ringing in my ears with a chilling clarity

"I've seen it happen too many times to count – I would hate to see you get hurt,"

In response, I deadpanned, my voice low and steady, "I don't need you to worry about me, Sheriff Hale." The words slipped from my lips with a quiet resolve, a hint of defiance coloring my tone.

Who knew that those words would come back to haunt me in the coming years. That I would come to rely on Breckon Hale when everything around me and my unborn daughter was falling apart and people were dropping left and right…

I stood off in the corner as the party was in full swing, observing the lively scene unfolding before me. Gemma, the life of the party, moved with effortless grace, her magnetic energy drawing people towards her like moths to a flame.

The hang-arounds as Gemma called them clung to random members, kissing and rubbing themselves against them in full view of those around.

The air was thick with the mingling scents of alcohol and weed, creating a heady mix that added to the party's vibrant atmosphere. Some guests sat at tables, their focus on white lines meticulously arranged in front of them, lost in their own world of ephemeral highs and fleeting escapes.

Meanwhile, I found myself nursing the same bottle of beer for what felt like an eternity, content to observe from the sidelines. The pulsating music throbbed in the background, a constant reminder of the lively energy that enveloped the room.

My gaze drifted to Clay, a towering figure with a presence that commanded attention. His strong arm draped lazily over Gemma's shoulders as they weaved through the crowd, engaged in animated conversations with various partygoers. There was a familiarity in their interactions, a silent understanding that spoke volumes about their shared history.

Sitting in the dark corner of the room near the exit, I couldn't help but notice Jackson Teller and his imposing friend, Opie. Their presence exuded a certain aura that drew the attention of those around them. I observed as they engaged in conversation, their camaraderie evident in the easy way they interacted with each other.

Jackson, or Jax as he was known, seemed to have a magnetic pull on those around him. I watched as he would momentarily disappear with different girls, only to reappear after a few minutes, his charm and charisma leaving a lasting impression. The younger women seemed drawn to him like moths to a flame, captivated by his rugged good looks and confident demeanor.

Despite having been a part of the scene for three months, my interactions with Jax had been limited to brief exchanges in passing. There was a certain enigmatic quality about him that intrigued me, a sense of mystery that shrouded him in an air of intrigue.

“He’s a looker!”

I jumped at the unexpected sound of Tig's voice, my heart racing as I turned to see him take a seat next to mine. His words cut through the air with a casual confidence, a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes as he spoke of the irresistible allure of Jackson Teller.

"No girl, woman, hell even man, can resist looking at that handsome fuck," Tig remarked, his tone laced with a mixture of admiration and jest as he leaned back, taking a swig from his bottle. A laugh escaped him, the sound blending with the ambient noise of the party.

I attempted to feign interest in the wall behind him, but Tig's keen perception saw through my guise. His knowing gaze bore into mine, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a knowing smirk. "You should see the younger Teller if you think Jax is hot shit," he continued, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "That little fucker can run circles around his brother in the looks department, and that's saying something."

My curiosity piqued at the mention of the elusive Teller son, Thomas. Tig's description painted a vivid picture of a young man exuding an unparalleled confidence and allure. "Thomas has an arrogance about him, worse than his brother," Tig mused, his words tinged with a mixture of amusement and admiration. "Even a nun would drop their panties for that son of a bitch."

"Isn’t this party for him – for Thomas?" I inquired; my voice tinged with curiosity as I met Tig's gaze. His nod confirmed my suspicions, the once jovial expression on his face giving way to a more somber demeanor.

"Yeah," Tig began, his tone carrying a weight of significance. "Gemma throws one every time she gets even one word that Tommy may be heading home – this is the fifth one so far this year." His words painted a picture of anticipation and longing, the repetitive nature of these gatherings hinting at a deeper yearning for the return of the elusive son.

I shifted my gaze towards Gemma, the matriarch of the Teller family, her radiant smile illuminating the dimly lit garage. Her watchful glances towards the entrance betrayed a mix of hope and apprehension, her maternal instincts on full display as she awaited the possible return.

Tig's next words drew my attention back to him, his mention of the underlying drama between the three of them casting a shadow over the festive atmosphere. "There’s a lot of drama between the three of them – Clay being the main denominator," he revealed, his words hinting at a complex web of relationships and conflicts that lay beneath the surface of the seemingly celebratory occasion.

"How so?" I pressed, unable to resist the pull of the unfolding drama, even as I acknowledged my status as an outsider, a mere stranger who had stumbled into their world by chance. Their familial intricacies were none of my business, yet the allure of the untold story was too compelling to ignore.

Tig reached for his cigarettes, offering me one in a gesture of camaraderie. I politely declined, opting to watch as he lit his own cigarette, the tendrils of smoke curling lazily into the air. "For starters," he began, his words punctuated by puffs of smoke, "Clay and John – the boys' father – were good friends. They were the ones who initially started the club." My curiosity deepened as Tig delved into the history that bound these characters together, shedding light on the origins of the tangled web of relationships that defined their lives.

"Well, they both had a thing for Gemma," Tig continued, his tone carrying a hint of admiration. "Which I can't say I blame them because she's fucking gorgeous." His candid remark added a layer of complexity to the already intricate dynamics at play, hinting at unspoken tensions and unrequited desires that simmered beneath the surface of their shared history.

"When Tommy and Jax were small – I think Jax was 12 and Tom was around 9," Tig continued, his voice laden with a somber tone that echoed the weight of the past, "John caught Gemma and Clay in bed together. It was obvious that they were fucking around behind John's back," Tig's words cut through the silence like a knife, laying bare the ugly truth that had festered beneath the surface for so long.

"One thing led to the other and Clay ended up shooting John point blank out behind the clubhouse." My hand instinctively flew to cover my mouth, a gesture of shock and disbelief as the enormity of the revelation washed over me. Tig's gaze remained fixed on the floor, his silence speaking volumes about the weight of the burden he carried, the knowledge of a dark secret that had shaped the lives of everyone involved.

Before I could utter a word, the rhythmic click of Gemma's heels echoed across the room, drawing my attention away from the tumultuous thoughts swirling in my mind. As she approached where Tig and I sat, a subtle shift in his demeanor was unmistakable, his features softening at her familiar presence. With a tender gesture, Gemma leaned down and planted a delicate kiss on Tig's stubbled cheek, a gesture that spoke volumes of their shared history and unspoken understanding.

"She's a bit too young for you, Tiggy," Gemma remarked casually, her words carrying a hint of playful admonition. In that fleeting moment, a glimpse of their intricate dynamic unfolded before me - a mix of affection, protectiveness, and perhaps a touch of possessiveness. Tig's response, a wry smile tinged with affection and a hint of defiance, revealed a complex interplay of emotions beneath the surface.

“I can look but I promise I won’t touch.” He sent a wink my way before letting Gemma have his seat.

We both watched as he walked towards the older crew, smiling and flirting with the women around. “He’s something else that’s for sure,” Gemma smiled, her eyes twinkling with a hint of amusement.

I just nodded my head, Tig’s claim still buzzing around in my brain like an annoying fly. “Heard you had a run-in with our trusty sheriff today,” Gemma remarked casually, her gaze piercing as it met mine.

Her words caught me off guard, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of unease at the thought of being watched. “I have eyes all around this town, sweetheart. You didn’t think I would let you go to the grocery store without someone following, did you?” Gemma's laughter rang out, sending a shiver down my spine.

I nervously tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, trying to appear nonchalant. “I didn’t realize he was the sheriff until some lady spoke to him. Is he someone not to talk to?”

Gemma's expression turned serious as she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “He may wear the badge, but not all that glitters is gold in this town. Be careful who you trust, darling. Not everyone has your best interests at heart,” she warned cryptically, her words lingering in the air like a warning bell.

I slowly leaned back in my seat; my gaze still fixed on the older woman. “Why?” My voice a mixture of curiosity and apprehension.

She turned to look at me, her expression unreadable. “Why what?” she countered, her eyes searching mine.

Choosing my words with caution, I asked, “Why can’t he be trusted? He is the sheriff of the town; shouldn’t that count for something?”

Gemma let out a sigh, her features softening slightly. “Being the sheriff doesn’t always guarantee trustworthiness, my dear. In a place like this, power can be a double-edged sword. Not everyone wields it with honor and integrity,” she explained cryptically, her words laden with a weight I couldn't quite comprehend.

"Breckon comes from a family that has been very powerful for many years, and they don’t like the fact that a new powerful family has moved into the area – this club has more power in its pinky toe than the whole police force has in all its arsenal. We, this club, protects this town – Clay, Tig, and Jax – they are the ultimate kings of Charming," Gemma explained, her voice laced with a mix of pride and caution.

She paused, her gaze intense as she took my hand in hers, the weight of her words sinking in. "And honey, if you play your cards right, you can be the queen Jackson needs," she added, her tone soft yet filled with an underlying sense of urgency.

The guy had barely said a handful of words to me in the past couple of months, and here Gemma was talking about how I could be his queen.

“I don’t know Gemma?” I pulled my hand away, feeling a mix of confusion and apprehension creeping over me.

Her features started to harden as she fixed me with a piercing gaze. “Like I told you from the beginning, I see a lot of myself in you. I was a runaway, lost and searching for my place in the world, until the club found me. I became the woman I am today because of those men, and I see that same potential in you. I can shape you to be the next great queen – the wife, mother, and far into the future, grandmother that Jax and the next generation need.”

Her words hung heavy in the air, and my heart pounded in my chest, unsure of what to make of her proposition. “You’re young – you’ll be able to learn everything there is to know very quickly,” Gemma continued, her voice firm with conviction. “Just be faithful and know your place – be the old lady that your husband needs – deserves. Bow down to his every wish and command.”

As her words echoed in my mind, I felt a mixture of fear and fascination at the prospect of stepping into this role that Gemma saw for me. The weight of her expectations and the legacy she spoke of loomed large before me, leaving me to ponder the choice laid out in front of me – to embrace this path and all it entailed, or to forge my own destiny apart from the shadows of the past.

“I’m a total stranger to you guys – some little runaway,” I stammered, trying to push back against the weight of Gemma's expectations. "You can’t seriously consider me to be the next big thing for this club, for your son. Surely you have someone else lined up for such a spot?"

Her earrings tapped against her neck as she shook her head, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “You’re it, kid,” she replied, her voice filled with unwavering certainty. “From the moment my son laid eyes on you, I knew that you were the girl for him. He may not say much in person, but the way he gets when you’re around, it tells me everything I need to know.”

My eyes strained as they stared at the floor, the weight of Gemma's words causing my head to spin. “I uh-“ I quickly stood up, feeling a wave of dizziness wash over me, threatening to pull me into its disorienting embrace.

“Doll, you okay?” Gemma's voice cut through the haze; concern etched on her features as she rose from her seat.

I softly pushed her away, my movements unsteady as I tried to regain my composure. “Yeah, I just, uh, I just need some air,” I mumbled, my words coming out in a shaky whisper as I turned towards the door, desperate for a moment of respite from the intensity of the conversation.

Stepping outside into the cool night air, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, the sensation of the breeze against my skin a welcome contrast to the heaviness that had settled within me. The sounds of the club faded into the background as I focused on grounding myself, trying to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions and expectations that had been thrust upon me in such a short span of time.

As I leaned against the wall, the faint glow of the moon casting a silver sheen over the scene before me, I couldn't help but wonder where this path would lead me and what kind of choices lay ahead. The world of the club and the role that Gemma saw for me loomed large in my mind, a daunting and uncertain future stretching out before me like an uncharted territory waiting to be explored.

The gravel crunched under my shoes as I kicked the rocks around, the sound echoing in the quiet night air, a hiss slipping past my lips as one stubbornly became lodged underneath my foot.

“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, a surge of frustration coursing through me as I pressed my body against the cold exterior of the building, seeking a moment of respite from the discomfort. Bending over, I hastily unbuckled my shoe, the darkness around the garage enveloping me like a shroud.

The area surrounding the garage was cloaked in shadows, the absence of light so profound that it felt almost suffocating. In the inky blackness, shapes morphed and merged, playing tricks on my eyes and heightening my sense of unease. It was in this darkness that I sought refuge, hiding from Gemma and the weight of her expectations that bore down on me like a heavy burden.

“I wouldn’t be kicking those rocks if I were you.”

The deep voice sliced through the stillness of the night, causing my body to shoot up in surprise, my heart racing in my chest as the sound of approaching footsteps grew louder, heralding the presence of an unseen figure. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as a chill ran down my spine, a sense of apprehension settling over me like a heavy cloak.

As the tall shadow emerged from the darkness, my breath caught in my throat, uncertainty and fear mingling in the air between us. The figure loomed before me, their features obscured by the veil of night, a silent and imposing presence that sent a shiver of unease down my spine.

The mysterious figure's long, disheveled blonde hair swayed slightly in the night breeze, framing his face in a wild and unkempt manner. Strands of hair partially obscured his features, adding to the air of enigma that surrounded him.

His attire spoke of a ruggedness that matched his imposing presence. The dirty jean jacket draped across his broad shoulders, its fabric worn and faded from time and use. The jacket seemed to carry unseen stories within its frayed seams, hinting at a life lived on the edge of society.

Beneath the tattered jacket, a pair of ripped jeans covered his long legs, the denim worn thin in places, revealing glimpses of skin underneath. Each tear and fray in the fabric seemed to tell a tale of hardship and survival, of a journey marked by hardship and struggle.

I struggled to find my voice; my words caught in my throat as I met the gaze of this mysterious stranger. "Pardon?" The word slipped out of my mouth, barely more than a whisper in the stillness of the night.

As the figure moved closer, his presence looming over me in the dim light, a knot of fear tightened in my stomach. His voice was low and gravelly, carrying a hint of menace that sent a chill down my spine.

"The rocks—" he began, his hand reaching for the cigarette between his lips, a faint ember glowing in the darkness.

"They've been known to put shards of glass in the rocks," he continued, his gaze unwavering as he spoke. "Don't ask me why, but they find it funny when one of you broads end up bleeding like a stuck hog. And don't even bother asking them for help," he continued, his tone grim and foreboding. "Because they'll just wave you off like a piece of trash."

I looked down at my bare foot, the warning from the mysterious figure still ringing in my ears. His words had cast a shadow over the carefree evening, injecting a sense of unease into the night air. My gaze flicked back up to meet his, a mixture of skepticism and gratitude in my eyes.

"Thanks," I muttered quietly, my voice tinged with uncertainty. Quickly, I bent down to buckle my shoe back on, the mundane task grounding me during the strange encounter. With a deep breath, I straightened up and began to walk back towards the distant sounds of laughter and music from the party.

Just as I thought I had left the enigmatic figure behind, his voice reached me once more, stopping me in my tracks. I turned back to look at him, a questioning expression on my face as he spoke again.

"You looked pretty bored in there," he observed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Gemma—" He shook his head, a wry smile on his face. "She can suck the life out of ya sometimes."

As the mysterious figure's boots crushed the rocks underfoot, his tall frame loomed over my shorter stature, his presence casting a shadow over me. I instinctively took a step back, a mix of unease swirling within me.

His words painted a picture of the party I had just left, now tainted by his cynical observations. I felt a surge of defiance rise within me as I bristled at his insinuations.

"You don't really wanna go back in there, do you?" he questioned, gesturing towards the lively gathering. "Have to listen to Gemma talk your ear off or have one of those grown pigs try to get you into their bed."

His words cut through the night air like a knife, highlighting the darker undercurrents of the social scene before us. My gaze followed his motion towards the partygoers, a sense of discomfort settling in the pit of my stomach.

"Or are you trying to get Jackson Teller to notice you like all the rest of the females in this town?" he continued, his tone laced with a knowing edge. "He has a bedpost full of notches, sure you wanna be one of them?"

The audacity of his words fueled a fire within me, igniting a spark of anger that blazed to the surface. "What the fuck is your problem?" I shot back, my voice sharp with indignation.

He merely shrugged his shoulders, the smirk still playing on his features. "I know how women work, especially when they get around my brother."

[midnight-serendipity]

Better than the Fantasy: Chapter Three

 Pairing: Jax Teller x Female OC (AU - Older Man, Younger Woman, College Girl, Secret Identity)

Rating M: (Sexual Content, Violence, Swearing, Mentions of Drugs, Mentions of Alcoholism, Mentions of Marital Issues)

Synopsis: Freshly exonerated and newly-minted president, Jax feels out of touch with everything around him, and somewhere amid the hullaballoos, he lands himself in an online site, enticed with the company of a masked stranger, who unknowingly had closer ties to the club than both of them could have ever guessed.

Word count: 7.7k

Chapter 3: Lace and String

Observant blue eyes rounded the table, taking in the set of somber faces surrounding it. Gone was the jubilant air that swirled around the clubhouse three nights ago. In its stead was a heavier, despondent mood. The club president didn’t need a mirror; he knew he reflected his brothers’ expressions. He sighed, just before his blues passed a not-so-new addition to the table. There, sandwiched between Happy and Juice, and looking a helluva lot like he’s just brought home the gold was Kip. Yeah, Jax heard he got patched while some of them were in Stockton.

That’s some good news for a change. 

He didn’t know how many church meetings the kid had already been to. Judging by the all-too-pleased smile that certainly looked out of place, Jax guessed not much. Stifling a laugh, he moved on with his scrutiny.

Despite the Antarctic treatment from his girlfriend, Jax slept like a baby Friday night. Thanks to Gemma’s pep talk. Feeling like they were all in need of a much-deserved rest, the prez decided to push church further. Not that he reaped any wins from his own good deed. With Tara very much hung-up on her ice throne the whole weekend, Jax decided to shift his sights back to the club. With each new day, the gears of his brain drove themselves to exhaustion as he struggled to weave the threads of his thoughts into something bigger – clearer. And as each day ended, it took with it a little of the bravado he earned Friday night. So much that when he woke up this morning, that air of confidence swirling within his veins was flatter than a popped balloon.

Fuckin’ hell. What do I bring to the table?

And that was when his hopes started spiraling downhill. Down to the cold tiles of his bathroom. Because what kind of president held his very first church with no agenda?

Jax Fuckin’ Teller it seemed.

Although it wasn’t because he didn’t know what he wanted for the club – that was actually the easiest, simplest part. Going back two years ago, it was still clear as day how he had first brought in talks about the club getting out of guns. Not everyone was swayed with the notion. But their then-VP was confident that eventually, he could get the whole table to his side.

That, however, was before the whole of Charming PD swarmed into their clubhouse like bees to honey and had the half of them cuffed. Now, still reeling with the aftermath, Jax was clueless as a newborn bub. Not only did his plans crash and burn to the ground faster than a Boeing gone defunct, but all avenues in his pocket were already as outdated as Unser.

Then, there was the Cartel and he knew a simple sorry ese wasn’t going to cut it with them.

But even if he didn’t know where to begin this time around and even if his ideas kept going in circles, he owed it to everyone in this room to try. Again, his eyes surveyed the room, this time meeting each of his brothers’ gazes. One by one they tipped their chins in silence. In trust. In blind faith.

And that was the fuel to his fire.

He let out an exhale and straightened in his chair, placing his palms on the table. “First thing I wanna say is congratulations to our brother Half-Sack for gettin’ the patch.”

The entire room erupted in cheers. Tig, Chibs, Kozik, Happy and Juice drummed their right hands on the table, while Bobby just reached over and clapped Kip on the back.

“You’re lucky I wasn’t here, you sorry sack o’shit. I woulda voted no.”

Opie’s shoulders shook as he chuckled, while Jax shook his head in amusement at Tig’s declaration. Ever the sport, Kip just waved him off with his hand.

“A’ight, calm down you animals.” Jax called out. “Now each of us here are all aware of what happened the past two years. We’ve all taken hits, all because of the man who used to sit in this chair.”

And just like that the momentary uplift was sucked out of the room. Inevitably, Jax’s gaze was drawn straight forward. He watched as a dark look shadowed Piney’s face and gave him a nod. Everyone knew he and Gemma swallowed the most bitter pill than the rest of them.

“But I want to thank you all, especially – Opie, Chibs, Happy, Piney and Kozik, for lookin’ after the club.” Another round of cheers echoed. “Before some of us went to Stockton, I told the club we should move outta guns. I still feel the same way and after everything that’s happened, I know this is the best time for SAMCRO to finally act on it. The money is great. But givin’ it a closer look, we barely earn anythin’ and with the cartel loomin’, the threat to us is greater than ever. I want us out of guns and if it was up to me SAMCRO woulda been out of it way before.” He paused, meeting each and every single pair of orbs. He caught Bobby’s smirk of smug approval, Piney’s tip of head and the proud tilt of Opie’s mouth.

“But I am not and will never be Clay. Even if I feel this is what’s best for the club, I will never take your right to vote. If you ask me right now how I’m planning to do that, I’m gonna be honest with ya – I don’t have a fucking clue yet. But just because nuthin’s set in stone yet doesn’t mean it’s not gonna happen. Because I really believe we can move past that. But only…only if you all want that as well.” Jax paused just to let all of that sink in. Seeing some gestures that he was sure were sloping towards the affirmative, he took a little breath then went on.

“We can vote on that later on. Now for the cartel,” Jax shifted, right elbow on the arm of his chair and tipped his chin to the left before resting it on his thumb and forefinger. “Bring us up to speed, VP.”

After taking a drag from his stick, Opie motioned for the lone ashtray from his father who was nearest to it and snuffed the light out. “With half of SAMCRO in Stockton, we were forced to honor the cartel’s demands and hauled their cargo. We always made sure we were in twos. Safer that way. None of us liked it, but –”

“Best way to keep the blood out of Charming.”

Opie nodded an agreement to Bobby.

“With only four of us to mule, they okay’d to just half of what Clay had agreed to.”

“How gracious of ‘em,” Tig muttered sarcastically, drawing grins and chuckles of the same nature from ‘round the table.

“But none us ‘ere privy to that agreement.” Chibs aired what was floating on everyone’s mind.

“Oh, they know that brother, they just don’t give a shit.” Opie huffed.

“Because that’s the point, son. None of us are supposed to know.” Piney pointed out.

“Yeah, we know, Pop.” Opie shifted, turning his attention to the head of the table. “Torres ‘n Parada came by last week, knew you were gettin’ out.

Lighting up his own cigarette, Jax stiffened and his brows furrowed. This was news to him. He puffed, letting the smoke billow out of his mouth. “TM?”

It was Happy who answered. “Cara Cara.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah. Spooked Lyla and the girls.” Opie shook his head. Displeasure was evident on his face as he recalled witnessing a smug Parada with an arm around his uncomfortable old lady.

“What they say?”

“They wanna talk to you, go back to the original arrangements.”

“They know this is just a temporary thing for us.” Bobby retorted with a slanted brow.

“That’s why they want to speak with the prez, convince him of a more permanent setting.” Opie answered.

“’S not gonna happen.” Jax spoke with finality and an air of authority that could only come from the holder of the gavel. An action that didn’t go unnoticed by the oldest member of the club. Piney smirked in approval.

Jax rubbed his free hand down his face and took a long pull from his stick. His eyes landed at the middle of their table. They remained silent, giving him a needed moment to gather his thoughts. Then with another breath, he focused on his best friend.

“They finally say who helped Clay mule? The load they want, ain’t no way Clay was movin’ alone.”

“Nah.”

“Our guess is Cacuzza. He’s always wanted to venture on narcotics,” Chibs piped in.

“He answered any of our calls?” At the shake of heads, Jax felt a crippling hit. But he shook the tendrils of disappointment that started to weave in his chest. He needed to unravel the truth first before drawing up conclusions. “How ‘bout the Mayans? Heard anythin’ ‘bout them?”

“They’re in Lodi mostly. They’re wantin’ to branch out.”

Jax released a breath of smoke. “Still? So they haven’t yet?”

Opie smirked. “Darby bailed.”

“Alvarez is damn pissed.” Kozik chuckled, contagious to most of them.

Brows deeply furrowed, Jax shifted in his chair, surprised by this turn of events. Around two months ago, word through the grapevine was Darby had partnered with the Mayans. It stirred things up and caused quite the unrest, particularly with the Chinese and the Niners.

In his mind, this latest move didn’t make sense. Even before his latest imprisonment, he recalled how keen Darby was to associate himself with someone or someones who had quite the pull and weight on the streets. Particularly any that could match SAMCRO in either brains or brawn. The way Darby saw it, this was the guaranteed opening for his inky tentacles to coil inside Charming. This reasoning was what led Jax to anticipate the Mayans with no mistake.

So why the hell would Darby turn? Unless…

“Lemme guess, the supplier Darby was supposed to hook ‘em up with was a flake.”

“Aye.”

Jax tilted his head to his SAA. In the dimly lit room, Jax’s eyes glinted and even if he tried, he couldn’t refrain from smirking. A silver lining, if anything. “Good thing we know of a reliable pipeline.”

Chibs stiffened beside him. “Jackie, d’you think that’s a good idea? Mayans have beef with us –”

“Alvarez and Clay had beef. Not the Sons and the Mayans. I think it’s time we reach out to Alvarez, let him know there’s a new regime now.”

“D’you think they’ll meet with us?” Juice asked.

Jax breathed another drag from his stick. “We could always ask Nero to set up the meet.”

“And if he doesn’t agree?”

By the smirk on Tig’s lips, Jax could tell he already knew the answer to his own question. “Then we rope in Gemma.”

“Good luck sayin’ no to the artillery.” Another round of chuckles filled the room at Opie’s statement.

“We could get a feel on where the Mayans land on all these first, then we make the call to the Kings.” Collective nods were directed his way.

“Now before we get to the vote. I need you all to understand, if we do decide to move away from guns, we’re sayin’ goodbye to the club’s bread n’ butter for the past decades and our finances will probably hurt from that. I need you to take that in before we vote. But first, speakin’ of finances, heard our resident weirdo wants to share sumthin’ with the club.” Jax tipped his chin to Kip. Kip stood up and stepped out without question, he was after all, the first one Chucky approached.

Tig rubbed a hand down his face. “Maybe he’s goin’ to tell us he’s part leprechaun.”

Opie brought it to his ear – Chucky wanted to speak to the Club about finances, when he was asked about it however, he said he wanted to wait for the prez and the rest of the club. Jax admittedly had a slew of names reserved for Chucky. But Jax did admire him for his respect for him and the club. The door swung open again, as Kip swept in, followed by Chucky, each of them hauling massive duffle bags.

Jax killed his smoke and looked around. He was met with equally stunned faces. 

Opie stood up, towering over everyone. “What the hell – ”

Zip.

“There are still two bags in my dorm. But each has fifty grand in them, so that’s two hundred in all.”

They were all on their feet even before Chucky finished his explanation. All of them staring at the open bag, with wide disbelieving eyes. Because just as he said, the bag was overflowing with stacks of hundred-dollar bills.

“Jesus, all real,” Bobby passed the wad of cash he fished and inspected. Jax took it with no hesitation and examined it the way Bobby had, Chibs and Tig both curiously looking over his shoulders.

“Yes, it is,” Jax confirmed, awed, passing it to Ope.

“I think you’re wrong, Tig. Chucky’s not part leprechaun. He is THE leprechaun you sonuvabitch! C’mere!” Kozik exclaimed, pulling Chucky into a one-armed hug.

“Hey! Don’t maul him yet. We’re gonna need some answers first.” Jax called out. Kozik immediately let go of Chucky.

“A’ight,” palms on the table, Jax leaned in and eyed Chucky, looking every bit the investigator. “As pleased as I am with cash suddenly sproutin’ in the clubhouse, I need to know where this,” he tilted his head, “came from. And no, I am not buyin’ the leprechaun shit.”

Chucky very visibly gulped and Jax hoped it’s only because of him and the three Reaper kuttes standing closest to their president while they all stared him down, and not because of something else.

“Well, you remember the night Clay left?”

Unintentionally, Jax’s nostrils flared. Of course, he remembered. That was the night leading to the day of their arrest. The night Clay almost, almost got Gemma killed with his bare hands.

“Of course,” Jax replied with venom in his voice. He didn’t mean to. But he understood perfectly why Chucky recoiled a bit at that.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Juice suddenly materialized beside Chucky and drew an arm around him. “We won’t beat you up unless we have to,” Juice grinned.

“That’s…reassuring.”

“What about that night Chucky?” Opie stepped in. He knew he needed to take the reins. Leaving it to Jax might send Chucky straight to a coronary before they could get anything sensible out of him.

“I was in Gemma’s office, finishing an errand for her. I just shut the lights off when I saw her SUV coming back. I assumed it was her, but when I saw Clay got out, I hid. Something didn’t feel right. He went to the garage, came back out with two bags and went inside again for the other two. He just finished loading everything when Gemma arrived.”

Jax straightened up, arms crossed and teeth clenched. He knew what part was coming. He’s heard it many times. Didn’t make it any easier.

They were all supposed to be out for a gun delivery. Clay, claiming his hands made it difficult to ride, said he couldn’t make the four-hour travel. No alarm bells were triggered as he stayed back, they knew his hands had been acting up as of late and Jax easily stepped in as acting president. The cortisone was barely doing anything anymore – at least that was what he said. Unknown to them, he set out for a meet of his own. Borrowed Gemma’s SUV, on the ruse of dropping by Unser’s office.

It took them a couple of days after that to get the truth ironed out. But Gemma was ahead of them. Although her theory was off some points, still she figured out something was amiss before anyone else did. Turned out, he had been borrowing her vehicles quite some time already and her assumption was a mistress. She placed a tracker in all her wheels, and that night, Gemma thought was the perfect timing to confront him, with the sons out and Piney helping Lyla watch over the kids – no blood will be shed.

“They were busy fighting and the trunk was still open, so I took a peek in the bags. With all of you away, I knew it wasn’t club business. And when I found out it was real money, I moved fast, grabbed them and emptied them in the garage.”

“And Clay didn’t notice that the load was much lighter?” Piney asked, unconvinced.

“He didn’t check it again. And…it actually might have been a little heavier. I replaced it with some tools and bike parts –”

“The missing supplies!” Kip exclaimed.

Jax pictured it. He remembered Sack going on about some supplies TM ordered a week prior to that, that had suddenly vanished into thin air. But with Gemma unconscious in the hospital bed and Clay suspiciously MIA – that had been the least of his worries, even more so when David Hale dropped by with his minions, a warrant on hand.

“And Clay never saw you?” Opie pushed, still quite unsold on the idea.

“Well, he was,” his eyes darted to Jax quickly then back to Opie, “busy.”

Jax snarled, making Chucky flinch. “You mean to tell me, that not only did you have this cash lyin’ ‘round for two years, but you also let Clay pound my mom’s face as distraction?”

“Look, Jax, what was I supposed to do? I can’t throw a punch like you guys. If I interfered, I would have been worse off than Gemma. I just thought I could retaliate in a more effective way. Y’know absolute advantage.”

Put like that, Jax did see from his perspective. While not stock thin as Rat, Clay would have definitely snapped him like a toothpick. Besides, what best way to hurt Clay the most than to take what he worked hard for, right under his very nose. He just wished he witnessed Clay’s face when the rug under his feet was pulled.

“Does make sense,” Bobby echoed Jax’s thoughts, then added, “but why are you only telling us now?”

“I did want to tell the club the next day. But – ” Chucky tipped his head side-to-side, reminding Jax of an upside-down pendulum.

“Yeah we get it – ” Jax replied

Chucky nodded, “Then when you guys got framed, I guessed that was cartel money. So, I hid it and decided to show it at a safer time.

“Where yeh hide it?”

“Ah, I may have asked Unser to hold on to it. Said it was a Club favor.”

Again, Jax’s eyebrows jumped. There were whistles – Juice, Opie and Chibs, while Tig slowly shook his head in time with his hands clapping. Chucky smiled and gave out a breath of relief. He knew he was off the hook.

“Chucky, you are turnin’ me on right now.”

This time, it was Chucky’s eyebrows that went through the roof. “I don’t accept that.” He said with a shake of his head.

“Oi, don’t scare ‘im off.”

“What?” Tig asked Chibs with his palms open. “It’s not like I’m not gonna use some lube and I’mma make sure he gets off too.”

Chucky cringed “I still don’t accept that”.

Tig opened his mouth but Jax cut him off easily, with a finger pointed his way. “Knock it off Tiggy. Go rub one out and stop traumatizin’ people.”

“As for you,” Jax went to Chucky and laid his hands on his shoulders. He tipped his chin, “Go tell my mom we’re givin’ you a raise.”

When her eyes crossed while going over one line of the purchase order she was currently reviewing, Gemma knew it was time to call it a day. She dropped the document on her desk, pursing her lips. Despite TM being open all days of the week, Gemma still found truth to Monday being the shittiest.

Gemma removed her glasses and massaged her eyes with the heel of her palms. Fuckin’ piece of shit lighting.

Well, totally her fault for putting it off. Definitely need to have it replaced. She stood up and stretched. Her back echoed with a series of cracks. And this shit of a chair too.

“Dammit is everythin’ here a piece of crap?” Gemma turned around, taking each item in inventory. It had been a while since she put in more than her usual work hours, and definitely more than a while since she observed every little thing in this room. Her musings were disrupted by a loud, unmistakable roar of a Harley Davidson speeding towards the garage. Curious, she turned and opened the door of the office.

The biker still had his back to her while he parked and killed the engine. But he didn’t need to turn around in order for Gemma to know who it was. The blonde streaks peeking underneath the helmet was more than enough of an indicator. Propping her hip against the doorframe, Gemma glanced at her watch.

7:09 PM

Luann was seriously late. But that wasn’t important. No. Right now, what’s essential for her was to figure out what her son was doing back at TM. Jax and the rest of SAMCRO parted ways for the day just around four o’clock this afternoon and with all of them still occupied with their personal shit, she knew his return wasn’t club related. Plus – Gemma’s eyes narrowed into slits – that backpack, that wasn’t there when he left, triggered the alarms in her head. When he finally unfastened his helmet and turned around, spotting her for the first time since his arrival, Jax very visibly groaned, strengthening her theory further. 

Well, glad to see you too shithead.

She tipped her head to the office and turned on her heel.

Jax had to do a double take of the lot. But no, he wasn’t going mental – Gemma’s SUV was indeed nowhere to be found. So why the hell was his mother still here?

Once again, Jax could only groan. After his row with Tara, he didn’t have enough energy to deal with the Russian Roulette incarnate. But he’ll be damned much more if he didn’t follow her. Stepping foot into the small confinement, Jax felt he was heading to his execution as he was met with Gemma leaning onto the table, her arms crossed, and face seemingly carved in stone.

“Where’s your truck?”

“I had Rat and Kip take it home. Luann’s gonna pick me up for dinner.” She tipped her chin, “my assistant manager came in here, sayin’ we’re givin’ him a raise.”

“Yeah,” Jax answered, “fifteen percent seems fair. We can cut five each from TM, Diosa and Cara Cara. Whaddaya think?”

“He’s employed by TM only. He just likes to loiter.” Gemma pointed out.

“So? C’mon, Ma, work your magic. I’m sure it’s just like launderin’,” Jax asked, irritated.

Gemma sighed. Before he pitched the idea to the table, she was the first one he told that he wanted the club out of guns. It made sense. But with this kind of thinking, Gemma wondered how fast these dickheads would make a legit business go belly-up. It seemed she needed to sit them all down for a talk of some sort.

Businesses tend to do that shit.

Jax nodded dropping his pack on the ratty couch. He felt his mom’s eyes on him as he sat down. He propped his elbows on his knees, hands clasping together as he looked up and met Gemma’s stare. She raised an eyebrow.

“Are you gonna tell me, or are you gonna make me ask?”

Jax rubbed his hands over his face then sighed, resuming his previous position. This was the part of the conversation he knew he won’t be able to tiptoe his way around. “Just need to put some distance between me and Tara.”

Gemma huffed, raising both her hands in disbelief, before landing on her hips. She straightened, stepping away from the table, she strutted towards him and left only a few inches in between, forcing Jax to lean back and raise his head.

“Look, Ma, s’not a big deal.”

And maybe those were the wrong words to say as Gemma’s eyes sharpened, and if there was truth to the phrase if looks could kill, they’ll be holding his funeral tomorrow.

“Not a big deal my ass, Jackson!” Gemma exclaimed, completely rebutting his attempts at defusing. “Before you went inside, I watched this happen almost every day. That was two years ago. Are you tellin’ me that’s how it’s gonna be again? –”

“ – ”

“ – ‘Coz if you think that’s in any way normal, I’m tellin’ you it’s not, and it ain’t acceptable either. You haven’t even been back for a week!” Gemma finished in one breath, ignoring his mouth that slid open during her tirade.

“You done? Can I say somethin’?” Jax demanded more than asked, not bothering to mask his annoyance.

It was times like this that had him wondering if his mom was truly one and the same person, because he was having one helluva difficult time believing this tyrant was also the same person who comforted him in the rooftop just a few nights ago. It made him remember a way, way younger version of him asking if his mom’s ability to do a three-sixty in a drop of a hat was normal. The ear-pinch that followed convinced him to never ask that again – at least when she was in hearing range.

“Look, Ma, I know it’s not normal, alright? Why d’you think I choose to stay in my dorm?”

Gemma’s arms crossed, frosty gaze still focused on him. “You tell me, sweetheart. ‘Coz last I checked, I paid half of that house as a gift to you and not to Tara!”

“So what am I s’pposed to do?” Jax asked, arms wide open. “‘Coz I don’t think havin’ her sleep in the clubhouse is the right thing to do here.”

“Then have her check in at a hotel – Jesus Christ, why is this our problem?” Gemma threw her hands up looking way beyond exasperated.

“Because she’s still my girlfriend!” Jax bellowed.

Gemma stilled for a moment and raised an eyebrow. All of a sudden a smile that looked nothing short of triumphant slowly spread on her face, hands on her hips once more “Well, I don’t care sweetheart. In my book you pay for it, it’s yours. S’your right to stay in there and not hers.”

Jax sighed, running a hand through his hair. Gemma was only saying these because she never approved of Tara. If it was any other given day, she and Luann will be preaching how they should be treating their women with more respect. But whatever. The beginning of a throbbing in his temples was a telltale sign of an unforgiving headache if this dragged any longer. He had to switch gears.

He stood up, reaching for Gemma’s shoulders. “Look, Ma, I know you’re only lookin’ out for me, and I really appreciate it. But it’s not helpin’, so why don’t you just let me handle my shit with Tara, a’ight?”

The icy chill that resurfaced on her orbs made it known to him that he should have worded it out much carefully and differently. Shit.

“ – ”

“Knock knock, doll you ready to – Oh, hey Jax,” Luann’s smile dimmed as her eyes slid between the mother-son duo. “Is everythin’ alright? Sorry, am I –”

“Everything’s fine, sweetheart,” Gemma answered, smoothly stepping out of Jax’s hold, taking the time to put a smile on her face as she flipped her bangs with the tips of her fingers.

Jax could only follow her lead, mourning the lost chance of redeeming himself. He’ll try to find it later, preferably with no bystander. No undeserving soul needed to be within Gemma’s sights when on a warpath. He finally turned to Luann, taking her in.

She was wearing fitted jeans and tucked into it was a white – or maybe silver – button down made from a shimmery, silky material. The top few buttons undone. She had a blazer on top of it, and finished the look with a pair of ankle boots. He heard about it from his mom. Apparently, the porn director had been making a fuss about her wardrobe recently, saying she needed to upgrade – whatever the hell that meant – it now that Cara Cara was said to be rising up the ranks in the industry.

But if this was upgrading, Jax had to admit it was doing her wonders.

“Hey, Lu,” Jax motioned to the newcomer with his left hand. Luann took the invitation with gusto, fitting into his side easily as he wrapped an arm around her.

“You look great,” Gemma said.

“Thanks,” Luann smiled.

“Amelia?”

Instantly Luann’s face brightened as she nodded. Jax frowned in curiosity, juggling his memory for an Amelia.

“Who’s Amelia?” he asked in surrender when he didn’t find any.

“Oh, she’s my niece. She’s good with clothes.” She explained with delight.

Jax removed his hold on Luann, crossing both arms on his chest instead as he took a step back, content to be a fly on the wall as the two women talked. With the way her eyes lit up as she proudly talked more about her niece helping with – again – the upgrading of her closet to an interested Gemma, Jax guessed this Amelia was something special to Luann.

“She’s got great taste,” Gemma hummed.

“That she does. Otto’s loving the recent changes with my outfits as well.”

“Oh right, you had your conjugal –”

Jax snorted, and maybe he should have held it in. Because in his opinion once a month was still too few a chance to get laid. Well, not that he was getting much action aside from his own hand lately. But…

Best to leave that detail unannounced.

“What?” Luann asked puzzled.

Jax shook his head. “That’s why you look fresh. You got fertilized.”

Luann’s eyes rounded. “Oh, you are such a prick,” she threw a punch out. But Jax was already anticipating it, moving on reflex he just easily sidestepped and moved out of harm’s way.

“Tell me about it. He seems to be havin’ a field day.” Gemma sassed.

“Oh, c’mon Ma –”

“Hey, Gemma –”

Jesus, was this let’s interrupt Jax day? 

They all looked to the direction of the voice, finding Chucky peeking from the door leading to the garage.

“Yeah?”

“Sorry, I know we’re closed but it’s important,” he said, looking every bit as apologetic as he sounded. “Phone. Wilkins. Subaru.”

“Of course, he calls right now after I waited the whole day,” Gemma fell into step and moved to the side.

“Oh, you can transfer it here Jax and I will just –”

“Nah, it’s okay. You two just keep chattin’ I’ll take it here”

Luann turned around after Gemma disappeared. “What’s that about?”

“Nuthin’”

Luann looked at him pointedly. “Really?”

“Just you know, Gemma bein’ Gemma.”

“Hmm. How’re things at home?”

He should’ve known it was pointless to try to keep Luann at arm’s length. At certain times, the woman was just as bad as his mother when prying. Although a milder version. Thankfully.

“Tense.”

“I guess that’s what you were arguing about?”

“Yeah”

She drew an arm around him and rubbed his back. The same way his mother would. “What’s wrong sweetie?”

He shrugged. “I guess we’re just not seein’ eye to eye lately.”

Luann nodded in understanding. “Y’know, your mother doesn’t like being ignored.”

Jax snorted. “Tell me sumthin’ I don’t know.”

Luann just smiled again and shook her head. “Well, you better get ahead of that ‘coz I’m afraid that’s gonna bite you in the ass sooner than later. But what I’m sayin’ is, maybe your mom has been makin’ a point ‘bout you and Tara, but you haven’t been listening to her. I mean when was the last time you referred to Tara as your old lady?”

Jax stiffened, surprise evident on his features.

It was one of the things that often knocked on his conscience, and honestly still quite a mystery when in particular it happened. But every time he tried, the image of Lyla and Tara tending to a wounded Tig would flit in his mind. Tara with the eyes and hands of a surgeon, was methodical and precise in her approach. He remembered watching from the sides as she worked, impressed. After all if it weren’t for her skill and knowledge, they would’ve certainly needed to rush Tig to the ER. Lyla was her second pair of hands, working under her lead and supervision. She didn’t have the same expertise under her belt, but she certainly made up in instinct, and each of her movement didn’t escape Jax’s eyes – each smile, each word and each pass of her fingers coated with abundant care, grace and empathy.

He looked to Opie then, correctly predicting the proud look he had while observing his wife. Well shit, who wouldn’t be? Then his gaze drifted to his own girl. Maybe if Tara could learn to at least respect the life, she’ll be good enough to be an old lady too.

Immediately, the guilt was like a viper that slithered up his spine – swift and unrelenting.

The life they led was hard, and Jax was only on the cusp of sixteen when he discovered that while the Reaper kuttes took the frontline, much of the heavy lifting were quietly – and often unnoticed – supported by their women. Their unsung heroes. With that thought in mind, he knew it was unfair and unreasonable to ask Tara to fall in love with the kutte on the snap of a finger. But even so, that wasn’t the last time the comparisons between her and Lyla reared its ugly head. Yet he made sure he never shared it with anyone. Not even Opie and especially not Gemma – Oh shit.

Because she’s still my girlfriend.

Talk about a major slip up. To his mother most of all. Jax cringed, “You heard that?”

Luann’s brows pinched, drawing back a little. “Heard what?”

“A while ago, ain’t that what this is about?” Jax asked, now looking equally as lost as Luann.

Luann’s brows jumped to her forehead. “Oh – Christ, no. I didn’t hear anythin’ you and your mom were discussin’ a while ago. Believe me. But t’was easy to tell you two were buttin’ heads again. I guessed it’s ‘bout Tara so I just put my two cents in.” She said with a shrug.

If the open mouth was enough indication, Jax was clearly floored. So Luann took that as her cue to keep quiet, unknown to her the gesture was deeply appreciated. Because right that very moment, Jax felt as stupefied as he looked.

That his and Tara’s relationship status was an open book, was an understatement – and their readers were the whole of SAMCRO and everyone closely affiliated to it. If anyone asked, they could give a rundown of his relationship better than Jax ever could. Because what he was once so sure of, now felt like a thousand-piece puzzle, with some pieces missing. Yet in spite of this – all the noises, the questions and the doubts – he made sure to never share those and just keep them deep within his kutte.

So how, how was it that something he guarded so closely, escape him so casually, and without his knowledge?

“Oh hun,” Luann cooed, resuming the comforting rub she had on his back as she spotted the troubled look shadowing his face, “don’t beat yourself up over it. S’just my opinion and I certainly can’t speak for Tara, but maybe she’s –”

“PMSing.”

Before they knew it, Gemma was in front of them again, focused once more on the papers strewn on the top of her desk and completely oblivious to the disapproving scowl on Luann’s face and Jax’s head tilted to the side, frowning in curiosity. He’s pretty sure he’s heard that term somewhere before.

“What’s PMSing?”

Gemma’s hand froze before looking up. It was brief, but Luann saw it. And maybe Jax didn’t recognize it or maybe he wasn’t as much of an afficionado in decoding all things Gemma as she was. The comment was just offhanded – maybe even meant as a joke – but in just the flash of a second, she was confident a golden egg hatched in Gemma’s mind.

“It’s a condition common to women, comes out when we’re stressed and even hurtin’ over somethin’. You should talk to her ‘bout it. It’ll help.”

To his credit, Jax looked skeptical. But Luann could tell he knew he was in a catch 22. Because who in the club could ever classify as a decent source of PMS information?

“Right,” Jax gave a nod.

“Anyway, we’re ‘bout to head out. You want me to get you anythin’?” Gemma asked, picking up her purse and walked over to him and Luann.

“Nah. You two drive safe, alright?” Jax said, reaching out to give a kiss to his mom’s and Luann’s cheeks.

The two women walked to Luann’s car and just as the blonde, biker president was out of earshot, Luann rounded on Gemma.

“PMS really?”

“What?”

“You know what type of conversation usually occurs when you ask a raging girlfriend that. Besides I thought you agreed not to interfere in their relationship anymore.”

Gemma tsked, heading for the passenger side “’M not interferin’. I think it would do him some good actually. It’s time he learned somethin’ ‘bout the female body aside from fucking it.”

Luann shook her head, sighing as she trailed behind her shit stirring friend. Maybe there was a point to be made in that. But…

Oh well, can’t say I didn’t warn Jax.

When was the last time you referred to Tara as your old lady?

Jesus Christ! Jax sat up, running a hand down his face. 

Upon arriving at his dorm, he removed his kutte and laid down right away. But how the hell was he supposed to sleep when his mind refused to cooperate?

It didn’t help that his gut churned every single time Luann’s question resurfaced. Jax needed to sleep, otherwise he’d be a fucking zombie. He needed something to calm him down. Something mindless. A distraction.

He got up and walked out of his dorm, stalking towards their lone IT person. He was still perched on the barstool, just as he was when Jax saw him earlier.

“Hey, Juice.”

Juice looked away from the screen “Hey Jax, what’s up?”

Jax tipped his chin towards the laptop “You done soon?”

“Nah, Nero asked me to change some stuff on his site. Need sumthin’?”

“Can’t sleep thought I’d check Netflix.”

“Grab the one Chucky’s usin’. He’s still in the garage. Laptop’s in the kitchen.”

“Thanks,” Jax nodded.

“Everythin’ alright, bro?”

Jax was just about to turn around when Juice spoke. “Yeah, everything’s good.”

None of his brothers were stupid, and Juice was definitely no exception. Jax could see the doubt in his face. That he remained silent was appreciated by the club president. Juice just nodded so Jax went on to the kitchen, grabbed the laptop sitting idly on top of the table and went back to his dorm, keen to start with – hopefully – the peaceful part of his night. It didn’t take him long to fire up the beast as it was just in sleep, landing him straight to a paused video.

Curious, Jax hit play. Wonder what this weirdo’s into?

“Oh, Chucky!” A girl moaned.

Jax’s eyebrows jumped to his forehead. What the hell?

She was on a bed, only in her bra, the sheets giving a thin layer of privacy as it covered her from navel to toes. But no rocket science needed, her hand moving beneath the blanket was very straightforward.

“Jax!”

Jax turned to his door, a panting Chucky obviously in a hurry to reach him.

Jax stood up, running a hand down his face. “You let anyone see your girlfriend like this?” He scowled. Jax knew he didn’t have much leg to stand on here. It wasn’t like he was gunning for boyfriend of the year award but having your girl as a free-for-all was just a different kind of low.

“Oh, Sophie’s not my girl. I’m just a fan – subscriber.”

Having paced away from the direction of his bed, Jax paused mid-step and turned. “What?”

Chucky, collecting the laptop, halted and grinned “OnlyFans. C’mon I’ll show you.”

He seriously had no idea how he got strong-armed into this. All he wanted was a movie. And at one point, everything coming out of Chucky’s mouth was pure gibberish as he schooled him into this OnlyFans thing. His ears only perked up when Chucky started listing down the costs.

“I really think you should try it. C’mon what do you have to lose?”

His brows went to his hairline. “What do I have to lose? Whaddaya think, jackass? My money.”

Immediately Chucky recoiled like a puppy kicked in the gut. Jax’s guilt from earlier resurfaced tenfold, because really? Was this how he was gonna treat the man who went out on a limb for the club?

He sighed and waved a hand. “’M sorry Chucky, it’s just been a long ass day. And I think you’re right, I do need to try this.”

Chucky’s smile returned, megawatt. Jax hoped he wasn’t going to regret this.

“Alright, so first we need to set you up with an account. What username do you want?” Chucky tipped his head. “You can get creative, people often tend to be discreet.”

Well, I wonder why. He could only guess how it would go if Tara found out about this. Tara. Is this alright? Joining this site?

No matter the circumstances, they were still together, and Jax may admittedly have a colorful background, but cheater was one thing he didn’t want to add to that list. He rubbed a hand down his face.

“And if you’re worried about Tara, you can just stay away from the sex workers.”

Jax’s head swiveled to his left, a slow grin spreading on his face. The insightful bastard. “Yeah? So what kind d’you suggest I subscribe to?”

Chucky shrugged. “Influencers, bakers, whatever.”

In other words, things that Jax gave zero fucks about. Yeah, if this was ever unearthed, he could use those as excuses until he was blue in the face. Thing is, he wouldn’t fool even himself into believing it.

Jax almost groaned at the expectant look on Chucky’s face.

“How ‘bout you what’s your username?” He asked, stirring himself away from thoughts of his own grave. He could just give it three days then get outta there.

“Chucky,” Chucky answered.

Again, his eyebrows jumped. There was no telling if Chucky was kidding. Idiot only ever has one expression. “That’s you bein’ discreet?”

“Well, how many Chucky’s you know?”

“Fair enough. But ain’t no way I’m usin’ my own name.”

“Fair enough,” Chucky parroted, drawing an amused chuckle from the SAMCRO president. “How about Mr. Mayhem?”

Jax’s smile slid off his face. “You do know what Mr. Mayhem stands for right?”

Chucky winced. “Sorry, I thought it’d be cool. How about Reaper?”

“Basically, the same thing.”

“Right, how about – I got it!” Chucky’s fingers swept all over the keys, confident he’d thought of something Jax would like. To Chucky’s credit, as he showed the screen to a curious Jax, the blonde biker just gave a nod, impressed.

“Heh, I like it.”

It seemed fairly easy a while ago. Now left to his own devices, Jax was lost navigating this labyrinth of a site. Each damn button looked the same. And what was up with that long ass terms and conditions?

Do people really read that shit?

Jax was just about to give up when a video slid on the top of his screen. Sumthin’ like new videos? New suggestions? Both? Jax tried to recall what Chucky called them. But whatever, his attention was now drawn to the thumbprint.

It was a woman, wearing a sexy piece of lingerie. She was suspended, mid-air, hanging only by a pole, and Jax had absolutely no clue how she got there or how she managed to stay there. It looked like she was sitting, gripping the metal rod only by her thighs.

Strong thighs, he couldn’t help but notice. Her back was to the camera, with one hand idly on her hip, while the other was on the back of her blonde head, hair thrown over her left shoulder. Her head was angled slightly to the side, eyes peeking over her right shoulder, and with a smile for an invitation. She had a mask on, all lace and string. If somebody asked him right at that moment how she looked, he’d say – like a secret you want to unravel.

Unable to tear his eyes off, he clicked it. The video zoomed to the four corners of his screen and Jax’s heart hammered in anticipation. The video was dimly lit, but not of poor quality. The outline of her lithe body was still very visible. This time, as she waited for her cue, she was stood at the floor, then the chords of a familiar song, the inspiration behind her moniker were struck. Not the original, but still a tasteful choice.

She started to move and when her pace and the tempo picked up, it was like she wasn’t even dancing. It looked like she was flowing. And flying and floating – from one movement to the other, as smooth as a breeze, drifting from the floor and all over the pole in the sexiest pair of strappy heels he’s ever seen – that he wondered if there was someone behind holding her by the strings.

The way she moved – hypnotic. Magnetic. Alluring.

So when the prompt for a subscription came up, halting the current video, it was a no-brainer.

“The demarcation between different levels within the fashion market is becoming ever complicated and –”

Buzz.

Drawing a small line on the sentence, Amelia paused and welcomed the much-needed break from her reading. She adjusted her glasses and tapped her phone to life.

Meet your new fan…

Her eyebrows lifted along with the corners of her mouth.

MrPresident. Heh, that’s cute.

A/N: And I’ve been hit with another delay. But here’s chapter three with Amelia and Jax finally (unknowingly) meeting. 

I did as much research as I could for OnlyFans. But I’m not a creator nor a subscriber for the site. I tried to make it as authentic as possible, but if anyone reading this who has been on the site find anything inaccurate, I apologize and I hope it won’t be too much of a bother. 

To anyone who’s read and liked, thank you. Please leave a comment and/or reblog. 

If you want to be added to my taglist, let me know or click here.

Thank you to @lovebarefootblonde for beta-reading for me and for being an awesome friend! 😘 To anyone new to Tumblr and are looking for Jax Teller AUs, go check out her works! 

Taglist: @fullwattpadmusictree

[hoteldreamss]

Raymond Smith || imagine

Метки: ангст; упоминание убийства; влюблённость.

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* National Crime Agency - Национальное агентство по борьбе с преступностью

Он должен быть спокойным, когда смотрит на собственный телефон. Но одно имя и чёртова фотография уже сбивает его с ног. В голове крутится много всего. Может быть ему вовсе не следует брать трубку. Почему он до сих пор не заблокировал тебя, почему он до сих пор держит в телефоне несколько ваших фотографий, твоих фотографий, будто ты единственная любовь в его жизни. Потому что так и есть.

Ты его бывшая жена. Ты женщина, на которой он женился не просто так, его социальный статус помог ему не только нарушать закон, но и выбрать в жёны девушку, которую он любит, а не которую одобрила его семья. Хотя они были простыми людьми, и уж точно не стали бы ��мотреть на то, кто ты в иерархической структуре капитализма. Для них ты была владелицей картинных галерей, и так же, как Смит выросла в обычной семье.

Вздохнув поглубже, Рэй всё же берёт трубку. Немного он ожидает услышать, что ты будешь пьяной, даже если никогда раньше не звонила ему в таком состоянии, и если тебе вообще не свойственно такое поведение.

— Да.

— Привет, Рэймонд. — Твой голос немного, будто бы запуганный, и Смит очень надеется, что никто сейчас не направляет на тебя оружие. Он никогда не хотел втягивать тебя в свою работу. Но твоя работа была хуже, чем у него.

— Привет, Т/И.

Недолгое молчание заставляет Рэймонда на мгновение подумать, что связь прекратилась. Но услышав твой вздох на другой стороне, он знает, что ты ещё здесь.

— Мне нужна твоя помощь.

Рэймонд меньше всего ожидал услышать от тебя, что ты нуждаешься в его помощи. Но внутри него появляется что-то странное, похожее на самодовольство и надежду.

— Я... должна одному человеку. Нужно выплатить долг как можно скорее, либо завтра он отрежет мне пальцы, а может похитить меня для чёрного рынка, — произносишь ты, так будто эти знания не заставляют тебя трястись от страха.

Рэймонд протирает глаза под очками, задумываясь над твоими словами. Он просит имя, и ты его называешь. Ты была уверена, Рэй просто даст тебе в долг деньги, но он решает всё сделать иначе.

***

Рэй не может поверить в то, что видит. Видеоролик на ноутбуке доказывает много вещей о тебе. Смит надеялся, что ты не продолжишь это делать, но ты вернулась к старому через несколько лет затмишься. Как вообще получилось, что тебя поймали на видео.

— Отправлю это завтра в ФБР. — Мужчина явно не из Англии, хотя об этом можно было бы догадаться по его костюму. Но Рэймонд уже знает достаточно об этом человеке.

— В Англии нет ФБР. У нас НПА*.

— Плевать. Твоя девчонка засветилась на камеру. Конечно, тюрьма для неё не лучший вариа��т. Но, молчание дорого стоит.

Рэймонд задумывается. Он знает, что вы больше не так близки как раньше, это нормально. Но его смущает другое.

— Значит, либо деньги, либо сольёшь это копам?

— В точку, здоровяк.

— Хорошо.

***

Рэймонд не уверен, что ты живёшь здесь. Но по его данным, ты должна быть именно здесь.

Дверь распахивается перед ним и перед ним стоишь ты. Он так давно не видел тебя. Он замечает твои изменения, это нормально, что они произошли за столько лет, пока вы не виделись. Но внешне кажется ты не изменилась.

Смит берёт себя в руки. Он не должен поддаваться сейчас чувствам.

— Тебе следует меньше врать, если ты хочешь иметь друзей.

Он протягивает тебе флешку.

Взяв её, ты понимаешь, что Рэй узнал правду. Отойдя в сторону, ты безмолвно приглашаешь его, и Рэймонд заходит.

— Я не хотела тебе врать. Просто... ты всегда был против моей работы.

— Потому что тебе грозила бы тюрьма.

— Я не знала, что там были камеры. Их не было, когда я всё проверяла.

— Да, они новые, в хорошем качестве, чтобы увидеть даже лицо бедолаги, которому ты вскрыла горло.

— Брось... за убийство бедолаг не платят.

Рэймонд набирает больше воздуха в лёгкие, поправляясь очки. Почему ты до сих пор такая?

— Я отдам тебе всё. Просто мне нужно немного времени.

— Не нужно. — Рэймонд подходит к тебе. — Твой друг больше тебя не побеспокоит, и ты ничего не должна. Я предпочёл бы, чтобы ты перестала зарабатывать на жизнь убийствами, но этого не произойдёт. Этого ведь не произойдёт?

Ты отрицательно качаешь головой, смотря в знакомые глаза, по которым ужасно скучала. Ты чувствуешь себя слишком паршиво, чтобы выдавить что-то из себя, заставившее Рэя остаться, или подумать о тебе лучше, чем он уже может думать. Рэймонд не должен был прикрывать тебя, но он это сделал. И несмотря на то, что завтра тебя не объявят в международный розыск, ты не чувствуешь себя лучше.

— Спасибо, за то, что сделал для меня всё это.

Рэй кивает, прекрасно зная, что ты чувствуешь. Он знает тебя, поэтому так легко понять, что в твоей славной головке.

— До встречи, Т/И, — произносит Смит.

— Пока.

Он знает, что вытащит тебя из любой передряги, стоит тебе только там оказаться. И самое паршивой, что он злится на себя за такую глупую влюблённость в девушку, которую никак не может усмирить, которая никогда не станет его милой домохозяйкой женой.

Это больше всего разрывает его грудь. Скорбь по временам, которых никогда не было.

[carni-val]

Soooo it’s been a hot minute but I’m getting back into my Charlie Hunnam hyper fixation so if anyone wants to send some requests through, my ask box is open 👀