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curvynerdfan · 4 years

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Bookkeeper and the Biker

Thank you @xx—day-dreamer—xx for requesting and being patient! This piece was a lot of fun to write but took forever, sorry about that. I hope you like it! 💕

Also sorry for the overload of samcro gifs lol! I just love when you find gifs that fit the storyline

Jax x Reader

Y/N felt like her heart was gonna jump out of her chest. She was headed home. Well, her hometown, she hadn’t been “home” in over ten years. Her dad was killed on a run when she was sixteen and her mom used the opportunity to get her out of Charming. Not that Y/N wanted to leave. She always saw the club as her family but her mom despised SAMCRO after her dad passed. Y/N thought her mom blamed the MC for her dad’s death.

Y/N had flourished in her time away from Charming but still felt like something was missing. So she was going back. Over the past ten years, Y/N had grown her skills and felt confident in her decision to come back.

She loved growing up in Charming. She could remember running around the autoshop with Jax and Opie, driving Gemma insane because it wasn’t exactly safe. The clubhouse took hide-n-seek to a whole nother level and family dinners were her favorite club activity.

She called Gemma about a year ago and the mama bear of the club was ecstatic. At that point Y/N had no plans to move back. She just missed the rest of her family. They reminisced and caught up on each other’s lives. Gemma let her know how the club was doing and Y/N kept her second mom up-to-date on her life.

At some point, Y/N mentioned that her dream life consisted of running her own eclectic bookshop and living above it. She never thought her dream would become reality but Gemma had other plans. A two story shop in downtown Charming popped up on the market and momma Gemma called Y/N before a sign was outside the building. Once Gemma sent her all of the pictures and told her the price, Y/N snatched it up. While she had some savings, the purchase price was being covered by money her dad had left her in his will.Plus, her association with the clube convinced the owner to lower the asking price. She was given access to the fund when she turned 25 and she couldn't think of a better way to spend her money than to pursue her dreams. She even had money left over to purchase books and some furniture for her new place without dipping into her own savings.

Gemma told her she could stay in a clubhouse dorm until her apartment was set up. She pulled into the lot of Teller-Morrow and parked her car. Y/N felt the anxiety build and took a few deep breaths to settle her nerves.

“There is no reason to be nervous. It isn’t like you abandoned Jax or Ope. Hell, they may not even remember me, no biggie, no pressure”, she mumbled to herself, “Gemma invited you. No one goes against Gemma, right? And it’ll be nice to see my SAMCRO family. It’ll be great!” Y/N said, but she didn’t feel as confident as she sounded.

She opened the door and quickly stepped out before she could change her mind. Once completely out of the truck, she stretched her arm up high and arched her back. She grabbed her backpack and her duffle bag and locked up her truck before heading to the office to look for Gemma.

“Can I help you lassie?” A dark-haired Scotsman asked.

“Umm, yes please. I’m looking for Gemma.” she said.

“Ah, is she expecting you?” he questioned.

“Yes, you can just tell her Y/N is here.”, she clarified.

The Scotsman disappeared around the corner and Y/N took the time to take in her surroundings. Very little had changed. The Teller-Morrow signage was rusted and worn in some places, there was newer equipment It also looked there were members in SAMCRO than before based on the number of bikes parked in front of the clubhouse.

“Y/N! There you are baby!”, Gemma shouted as soon as she walked into the office.

Y/N couldn’t help but squeal when she launched herself at Gemma. They had always been close as she was growing up. Gemma taught Y/N how being a nerdy, tomboy didn’t mean that she wasn’t a beautiful badass too.

“Hey, momma.” she said when Gemma squeezed her tight.

Gemma leaned back to look her over and then kissed her cheeks in greeting before pulling Y/N out of the office and across the parking lot, ranting and raving about how great it will be to have a powerful woman back in Charming. Y/N just giggled and let herself be dragged around.

The momma bear had cleaned up a dorm for Y/N to have for however long she needed. While it still looked like a typical clubhouse dorm, there weren’t any posters of naked women or trash scattered around the room. There was also a gift basket of goodies on the bed for her.

Y/N hugged Gemma, “Thank you for going through all this trouble for me. I am happy to be home.”

“Not any trouble at all sweetheart. You’re not the only one happy that you’re back in Charming.I know Jax has been asking about you for a while!” Gemma said, nudging Y/N with an eyebrow raise.

Y/N’s face flushed, “Don’t start with that Gem! Neither one of us should get our hopes up.”, she mumbled.

Y/N has always been close to Jax and Opie but Jackson never fall into the brotherly category. She didn’t want to get excited about the idea of a relationship with Jax and possibly ruin the amazing friendship they have. Plus, she didn’t think she was his type. Gemma said he dated Tara for several years and was really hung up on her when she left. From what Y/N remembered, Tara was always snooty, looked down on the club, and had no desire to live a small town life.

“Baby, you know me, I wouldn’t lie to you. Jax has been head over heels for you from the get go. He kept asking if you remembered him, how you were doing, how he can help you find your place here. Hell, he stocked that top drawer over there with Reaper and SAMCRO shirts so anyone new knows you are important to us. I would wear one of those tonight if I were you!”, Gemma suggested, “Give him a chance before you close yourself off again”

Y/N nodded and decided not to argue when Gemma gave her that all knowing look. Gemma helped her unpack your bags before leaving the dorm. Y/N used the hours before the party to lay on the bed and order more materials for her shop. When she had about an hour before the party’s start time she decided to take a shower and get dolled up before joining the excitement.

After her shower, she rummaged through the drawer that was handpicked by Jax. Y/N ended up grabbing a black “fear the reaper” t-shirt, a pair of her ripped jeans and some old sneakers. Y/N knew better than to wear nice shoes to a SAMCRO party. Y/N decided to tie the t-shirt up so it showed a little bit of her mid-riff and enhanced her natural curves. She dried her hair and applied basic makeup before heading to the party.

Y/N weaved her way in and out of the crowd of club members, their old lady’s, croweaters, and wannabe bikers. She made it to the bar and ordered a double before making her way to Gemma. She was starving and knew the momma bear could direct her to the food.

“Damn babygirl! You are just trying to give these boys a run for their money huh?”, Gemma said approvingly, “Atta girl!”

Gemma fixed her up with a full plate and got her settled in with Tig and Piney. Y/N caught up with the guys and dug in on the delicious food Gemma cooked. All of the sudden to mammoth arms wrapped around her from behind and lifted her into the air.

“What in the world!”, Y/N squealed.

A hefty laugh was the only response she received before she was dropped back down onto her feet. She spun around quickly and then gasped.

“Opie!” her shout pierced his ears and he flinched.

“Damn, you still have pipes!”Ope exclaimed as he wrapped Y/N up in a hug.

Y/N and Opie spent the next thirty minutes talking about life and joking around. Opie knew she was moving back so it wasn’t a surprise, but it was finally true now that she was in front of him. He was going to get married soon and wanted her to be there on his special day. Y/N and Opie had always agreed on the simpler things in life. They wanted to find their person, fall in love, get married, have kids, and live in Charming surrounded by friends and family.

Y/N gave Opie a hug and promised to visit more. The noise was getting to her though, after such a long drive the party wasn’t really her scene. She made a quick stop at the ladies room before getting a refill at the bar.

Jax made his way through the party, greeting members and partygoers as he made his way to Opie. His friend had a massive grin on his face and Jax couldn’t help but laugh. It was rare for the giant man he thought of as a brother to look like a silly puppy.

“What has you smiling so big, brother?” he asked, looking over.

“Y/N” was Opie’s one word response.

“Where?”, Jax couldn’t hold back his excitement.

Opie laughed and reached out to physically turn Jax around. His best friend laughed even harder when Jax’s jaw dropped. She was stunning. Y/N was still the beautiful girl he grew up with but he could tell she was more confident and her curves had developed even more. She was wearing one of the shirts he had picked out for him. That caused an odd sense of satisfaction. Y/N got her drink from the bartender and made her way down the hall and away from the party, more importantly away from him.

Opie slapped his back, “What are you waiting for man? Go get your girl!”

Jax felt his cheek warm and shook his head before swaggering after her. At some point she drifted out of his sight. Jax wracked his brain for where she could have snuck off too. After checking her dorm and finding it empty, he realized where she was. He climbed the stairs but paused before opening the hatch to the roof. What was he going to say to her? He hadn’t seen her in almost ten years. His mom assured him that she would reciprocate his feelings but how do you tell your childhood friend you want to be more.

Y/N jumped when the hatch creeped behind her. She didn’t think anyone would find her up here, but if anyone could it would be Jax or Opie. To her surprise, it was Jax. ‘Dear lordy, he is even hotter now,ah and that clenched jaw oof’, Y/N shook her head to clear her mind.

“Jax, you found me.” She whispered in awe.

It was real now, she was really in front of him “Y/N… of course I found you.”, he said with a sigh.

“Wow! I mean, you look really good, umm, not that you have ever looked bad. Well i guess you look bad in the baddass biker MC VP kinda way, congrats by the way. You don’t look bad ugly, not that you have ever looked ugly, you still take my breath away. I am not some flustered sixteen year old anymore and,” Y/N paused awkwardly, “ Oh my god, that is not how I wanted this to go. It’s been such a long time.I’ve missed you and your mom said you missed me to but now I’m not sure because all you’ve done is stare at me so far, so maybe your mom was wron-” Y/N paused when lips were on hers.

She could feel Jax’s lips smirking against hers, “I missed you too”, he whispered before kissing her again.

Y/N hummed, pulling away from him, “That is the best way anyone has ever made me shut up”

She leaned against his chest before looking up at him again, “What does this mean, Jax?”

“Are you really staying this time?”, he asked.

Y/N nodded, smiling at the sheepish look on his face.

“Then, I want to make you my old lady someday. For now, we can just see how things go. I always pictured us ending up together, but I don’t want to force anything. Biker and a bookkeeper, who would’ve thought?” He smiled.

“I did”, Y/N grinned.

She pulled on Jax and had him join her on ‘their ledge’. He chuckled gently in her ear as he wrapped an arm around her. He couldn’t wait to see where this was going to go. The idea of the bookkeeper and the biker felt good.

Taglist: @justahopelessssromantic

#sons of anarchy imagine #request #jax teller #jackson teller #gemma teller #chibs telford #tig trager #opie winston #samcro #sons of anarchy #samcro imagine #sons of anarchy request #jax x reader #jax oneshot #momma gemma #big brother opie vibes #bookkeeper and the biker #my work

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charmingkat · 4 years

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓.

full name . Katherine Emmeline Teller pronunciation . Kath-rinn nicknames . Kat, Katy (by VERY few), Katy Darlin’ (by Chibs only and possibly Fiona), the little princess

height . 5′4″ age . Verse dependent (anywhere from teenager to in her fifties; though canon wise she would have been in her 30s) zodiac . Aries languages . English

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour . Blonde eye colour . Blue skin tone . Pale body type . Petite, athletic accent . American (Californian) dominant hand . Right posture . Kat is a strutter. Confident walk, heels of her boots clicking against whatever surface she’s walking on. She’s the type of girl that exudes the whole ‘don’t mess with me’ vibe. Always has been. And when she’s angry? One look at her coming and the gathered crowd will part like the red seas.

Makes it hard to forget she is an actual tiny human being. One surrounded by big ass biker dudes. Which may be part of the reason she struts through life. Keeping up with the boys. But when she’s hurt. Vulnerable. It’s evident just how tiny she is -- curled up on herself, hugging her knees to her chest.

tattoos . Depending on the verse, she’s got a list. In all verses she has the gemini symbol on her right wrist representing the fact she and Jax are twins. Once Jax dies, his death date goes underneath. She has a sugar skull on her right shoulder with JT’s death date worked into it. On the right side of her ribs is a child’s hand print with Tommy’s name and death date. A wrap of briars encircle her hips. Abel and Tommy’s names adorn her left foot.

In any verse where she gets with Opie, she gets the ursula major constellation on the inside of her left thigh for him. The outside of her left thigh has Ellie and Kenny’s names.

Then after Gunner and Harley are born, both their names go on her left arm. Gunner on the outside and Harley on the inside. most noticeable features . Physically? Probably her tattoos. And the fact that she can be identified as a Teller almost on sight. Personality wise? Her temper. The fierceness in which she will defend those she loves.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth . Unknown. Up until John and Gemma settled in Charming, they led a sort of nomadic life. When they did finally move to the small town, she and Jax were five. hometown . Charming, CA birth weight / height . 5.6 pounds. Average size for a twin at birth. Twins are usually smaller than singles and one twin usually weighs less. In this case, it was Kat. Jax was totally the chubbier baby. manner of birth . Hospital. Wherever John and Gemma were at the time. first words . "No.” Most likely yelled at Jax when he grabbed something she wanted. siblings . Jax (twin brother); Tommy (younger brother; deceased) parents . Gemma Teller (mother), John Teller (father; deceased), Clay Morrow (stepfather) parental involvement . Her parents were involved in her life as a child but when her mother became sick with cancer; her world changed. Her father was distant and she was always out. Gemma Teller became someone who raised Tara into her teenage years.

ADULT LIFE

occupation . Works at Teller-Morrow Automotive -- running the office and doing detail work; bartender close friends . Opie Winston, Tara Knowles, Hayden Grazer, Mateo Vellenueva relationship status . Verse Dependent (though my OTP is Kat x Opie) financial status . Comfortable driver’s license . Yes criminal record . Yes, from her teenage years. Mostly shoplifting, hot wiring cars...

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation . Bisexual romantic orientation . preferred emotional role . submissive | dominant | switch | unsure. preferred sexual role . submissive (though only those who have had her in the bedroom know that) | dominant | switch | sex repulsed libido . Fairly high turn ons . Loyalty, dominance, someone who is not afraid to get a bit rough with her, nice smile, someone she can talk to, who will respect the place the club has in her life turn offs . Whiny little bitches

love language . Physical Touch relationship tendencies . When it comes to a real relationship, Kat has one type and one type only. ACTUAL HUMAN REDWOOD TREES. But because, outside of said human trees, Kat is absolutely crap at love, she has a history of falling into bed with the wrong type of guy.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song . Cherry Pie by Warrant hobbies to pass the time . Sketching; playing around with new designs for her detail work; doing stuff with the kids, just sitting around in the backyard smoking and drinking with her brother and Opie, watching bad TV mental illnesses . None physical illnesses . "The family flaw” -- she like so many others in her family was born with the congenital heart defect; but like with Jax, hers has never caused her major issues. Something she feels more than a little guilty about. left or right brained . Right fears . Losing the people she loves (esp Jax, Opie, the kids); Spiders self confidence level . Kat’s confidence level is just fine. She needs no more confidence. vulnerabilities . JT’s memory. Finding out he was another family in Ireland pretty much wrecked her. Learning that had he lived, he probably would have left them. The kids. She’d do anything for them.

tagged by : stolen from @samcrodoc tagging : anyone who wants it; though I will probably be doing it for each of my girls over at @daughtersofcharming

#about kat #headcanon #ish

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la-fille-en-aiguilles · 6 years

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Half As Good As You (1 / 2)

Jax Teller x Female Reader

A/N: I know i’m late to the party, but I am finally catching up with Sons of Anarchy, also known as one of the greatest shows ever made. I absolutely adore it, for so many reasons (Charlie Hunnam obviously being one of them). Jax Teller is such a promising character, with such an enormous literary potential, I couldn’t resist.

This two-part story is loosely based on Tom Odell’s song “Half As Good As You”.

Please enjoy, feedback is appreciated if you feel like leaving something.

Warnings: a lil’ bit of angst and heartache.

What a spectacular day for murder, you thought, grabbing your Balenciaga bag from the passenger seat right next to you, your cold take-out coffee’s smell still hanging in the confines of your car.

Charming welcomed you back with cloudless, infinite azure and blinding yellow sun, an airplane chalking a line on the canvas of the sky above your head.

Swinging that bag over your shoulder, you let your gaze wander back to the house in front of you; the empty driveway, those colorless roses and the unwelcoming cold blue paint that you never thought you’d see again.

Your sister might have lived in that house now, but the vibe of it hadn’t changed much - it still stank of bleach, burned leather and filthy secrets.

And to think you were to spend a weekend in these walls, where every little detail, everything - reminded you of him.

It felt like it had been ages; all your memories were just some stories someone had told you at some point, with no beginning and no end, pages ripped from old dusty journals for which no one had a care in the world anymore.

You lied, of course, when you told your sister if you’d come down it’d strictly be out of the goodness of the heart. Over the phone, you insisted on not wanting to leave the house before the wedding - that fucking house you hated the most in the entire world, that gas chamber in which you knew you’d have trouble to breathe - because you’d only come to watch her kids, while she gets drunk & partially naked before she ties the knot.

The sound of a roaring engine a few blocks away interrupted your train of thought as shivers ran down your spine, your fingers gripping steering wheel so hard your skin turned white.

Coming to Charming was a mistake.

Leaving the city in the first place was a choice, with which you’d learned to live.

Or so you thought.

Dawns were always the worst.

The subtle shift of light at around five in the morning gave the shit in his room back its color: the deep navy of his crumpled sheets, striking whites, yellows and greens of his underwear, scattered around, and the soft amber of the dresser, with framed pictures on top.

Jax would look at these colors perfect themselves, come out in all of their intensive glory, yet this would never amount to anything - no change in his black-and-white routine.

The rising sun later chose the best angle for its mindful rays, whitening out the faces on those photos. Most of the time, if Jax would let his eyes slip over the paper’s polished surface - accidentally, he kept telling himself - all he saw was perfect squares of bright light, the sun doing the job his brain couldn’t - saving him all the heartache.

The morning would paint his misery a new, less lethargic color as he’d drink his coffee at the bar, surrounded by his brothers, all laughing and talking in hoarse, morning voices. That would shake him up a little, the claws of last night’s dreams letting go some. Those dreams died eventually, but the nightmare of reality went on, and sometimes it was difficult for Jax to tell one from the other.

He didn’t know it yet, but today was going to push his coping mechanisms to a whole new level.

Sitting at the bar, his long fingers wrapped around a big cup of coffee, Jax kept digging holes in the middle of a microwaved cherry pie with a table spoon. He wasn’t hungry, but he knew he had to get some food into him - the day promised to be busy and chaotic, he’d get lucky if he got a chance to eat before dinner.

“Aye, Jackie-boy, any news from Ope?” Jax slowly registered Chibs’ words as the Scot called for his attention, carefully sipping on his steamy tea.

It took a moment for Telford’s words to settle in; retrieving his phone from the side pocket of his sweats, Jax powered the display.

“Yeah, he’s...”

Words stuck in his throat, a lump he tried to push down, swallowing hard. He dropped the phone flat on the bar table, the sound deafening. Inhaling deeply, Jax brought one of his hands up to rub his eyes, his elbow knocking over the cup of lukewarm coffee.

The drops of brownish liquid landed on your face, smiling at him from his phone, with Opie’s kids on either side.

Y/N’s in town. I’m sorry, man, we didn’t think she’d actually show. I’m on my way.

‘He’s on his way.’

Wiping his phone with the white t-shirt he still wore from last night, Jax scrolled down to see if Opie sent more of that stunningly pretty, makeup-free face of yours.

Winston didn’t.

It didn’t really matter, because one look at you had already sent his imagination reeling, his heart twisting in regret while beating ten hundred miles a minute.

You were back in Charming. The idea seemed outrageous, his thoughts even more so.

Maybe, it was a sign. Maybe, this was his past coming around to give him another shot to do this different. Better.

Maybe you two could work the shit out in the end of the day, maybe... maybe you came back for him.

“Hey Prospect, clean this shit up, will you?”

Grabbing his phone from the table, Jax motioned towards the black puddle on the floor once he got Half-Sack’s attention.

Running his fingers through the dirty-blond mane of hair, Teller headed to his room to take a shower, wash those bullshit thoughts away.

That’s all they were. Bullshit.

Your arrival lit a match in his mind, anger consuming him quicker than fire licking at dry paper.

And to what end?

The anger would come and go, leaving not even a fucking hint of solace behind.

So would you.

You never got around to babysitting that evening.

Dua Lipa’s voice blaring from the speakers, you could feel your chest rumble to the rhythm. The place was swarming with people; the bar welcomed a big crowd tonight, and under flickering lights you zeroed in on a face now and again, pacing your evening by the number of people you managed to make out from the human drunken mass.

Donna was having the time of her life as she swayed her hips to the beat. Her cheeks a lovely shade of pink, she laughed at something your friend Chloe said, wrinkles in the corners of her eyes, silent witnesses of her happiness.

Fumbling with your Margarita, you watched your sister closely, trying to convince yourself it was okay. It was Harry she was marrying for God’s sake. That teddy bear of a man that’d kill for her if needed.

And that was exactly what didn’t sit quite well with you.

You threw your head back, finishing your drink in one single gulp. Slamming the glass against the bar, you motioned for the bartender to approach. The young man with a messy man bun flashed you a smile, silently asking what your next choice would be.

“Whiskey on the rocks,” you yelled over the music, leaning over the bar so he could hear you better. Smiling still, the guy nodded, getting to it right away.

You plopped back on your seat, scanning the crowd with your eyes, again, trying to pass the time.

The scene hadn’t changed much since the last time you checked - most of the faces remained the same, the only difference being the cloudiness in people’s stares and sloppiness of their movements.

Yet your eyes narrowed as soon as you caught a young, handsome man staring at you, averting his gaze as soon as you spotted him. You were pretty sure you had never met him, yet something about him felt familiar... and suspicious.

Paying for your whiskey, you slipped off the bar stool, and slowly made your way to Donna.

“I’m going to get some air,’ you screamed into her ear, the beat of the basses making your knees tremble. Donna looked at you for a moment, as if trying to figure out your motives. Then she quickly nodded, lightly squeezing your wrist before letting go.

Gripping your whiskey glass tightly in order not to spill its contents, you made your way through the shifting crowd and into the hallway, slowly but surely.

Just as you walked out from the bar area, you noticed that young man you caught staring before turning around on his heels, following you.

It was a fleeting moment kind of realization, as you noticed Prospect written in bold letters on the back of the kutte the guy was wearing. Immediately you squirmed, pushing your way out of the bar with your elbows, slamming your glass on one of the unoccupied tables as you advanced.

“Shit,” you cursed, your eyes dashing around in search for a place to hide as soon as you reached the hallway.

You were being fucking followed. From the very fucking beginning. And by whom? By the Sons of Fucking Anarchy.

That would definitely up the number of candidates on your list for a well-deserved one night stand.

Thank God they didn’t think of sending someone bigger and meaner-looking, like Tig. Then your chances of getting laid tonight would have been non-existent, with the blue-eyed biker following you around like a shadow... shadow of death.

You froze at the thought, your mind painting the reaper tattoo before your eyes, angry black traits marking Jax’ ripped back.

The Prospect didn’t stay inside with Donna. It’s you he’d been told to follow around.

Clutching both of your fists in a sudden wave of anger that hit you like a speeding train, you muttered obscenities, your chest heaving.

Trying to swim against the current was useless at this point - you couldn’t change the way things were in this town years ago, why jump headfirst into that fight all over again? - yet two could play this game, you thought, Jax fucking Teller.

“Hey there, beautiful,” you were so lost in your thoughts, your eyes drilling a hole in the marble floor, you hadn’t noticed a pair of bright classy purple shoes walk out of the men’s restroom. Your eyes instantly flicked up to face a handsome stranger with deep grey eyes and a three-day black stubble on his razor-sharp cheekbones. The stranger smiled at you warmly, slipping both of his hands in the pockets of his expensive-looking jeans.

Bingo, you thought, mix of liquid courage and adrenaline spilling into your veins.

“Hi,” giving him a half-smile, you threw a quick glance over your shoulder.

Damn Prospect was watching you through the small dirty window in the door.

Grabbing the stranger by the lapels of his leather jacket, you pulled him in, your lips smashing against his.

You couldn’t even register one thing at a time, whirlwind of sensations and puzzle-like thoughts flooding your mind. He smelled of leather, cigarette smoke and musk, a sinful mix so familiar your stomach ached in an overwhelming need to stain yourself with it; steal it, carry it. The only thing stopping you was the absence of an important undernote, something sugary and spicy like oud or patchouli...

You figured it out in a matter of seconds, and even though the detail was bound to ruin everything, you still tried. Tried to fool yourself.

Even though his lips were a little too full for your liking. A little too soft. A little too innocent. A little too different from what you loved.

With your eyes closed, you bit his bottom lip, focusing on the way his rough cheeks felt against the palms of your hands as you cupped his face.

He didn’t bite back. He didn’t grab your hips with his hands, pulling you in closer. He didn’t moan into your mouth.

You didn’t click and that was that.

You still tried.

Holding on to that familiarity of rough beard under your fingertips, his scent completely engulfing you, you thought whether he hollowed his cheeks when he inhaled the smoke. He wasn’t a manual worker - you could tell from the softness of his touch as he positioned one of his hands on the nape of your neck. Exactly, positioned - that was the word. To describe a nearly mechanic movement of those soft little fingers.

Probably ain’t that good with his hands, darlin’ - Jax’ shit-eating grin appeared before your eyes for a millisecond, exactly the time it took for you to try and get a hold of yourself again.

You tried.

Your eyes fluttered open as the stranger rolled his tongue over your bottom lip - a little provocation that made you lose your mind back in the day. This time it felt like an ice-bucket full of water being dumped on the top of your head. It felt invasive, arrogant and wrong. It felt wrong, fault of his lips, his smell, his cheeks... Fault of him not being who you wanted him to be.

The stranger kissed you with his grey eyes open. And it shouldn’t have mattered at all - for all you knew, you’d have never seen him again - but it fucking did; the man you wanted always closed his eyes with your lips on his.

‘Hey, could you...’ you whispered, your lips still touching his. ‘Could you please close your eyes?...’

No answer followed. The stranger moved his head a little, confused look of those grey eyes settling on your face.

You ransacked your mind for something to say that could justify the shitty stunt you pulled; nothing came out. Luckily, the outside world came knocking soon enough.

‘Y/N!’ swinging the door to the bar open, Donna and her flushed and happy face came into view. ‘We’re doing shots, you with us?’

‘Yeah!’ you answered a little too quickly, relief in your voice almost tangible. ‘I’m coming’.

You gave the stranger a sympathetic look before letting go of his jacket.

‘I’m sorry,’ you told him blankly, not sure what kind of emotion he’d expect from you, given the context. ‘It was nice meeting you, uh...’

‘Gabriel’, he filled in, his lips still raw from the kiss you shared.

‘Gabriel,’ you repeated, knowing you’d forget his name the moment you’d turn away. ‘See you around, I guess’.

Just as you left the man with purple shoes behind, following Donna, you noticed the Prospect by the bar. He caught your eyes and gave you an uneasy smile.

For a spy, the guy isn’t exactly hiding, you thought. Biting the inside of your cheeks, you decided to finish what you started for once and headed his way.

Nighttime had always been the time for his demons to come out to play. To bring out the worst in him.

Tonight, however, felt different.

The night was silent, save for the car engines revving miles away from Teller Morrow. Stars dotted the inky sky, their shine so bright they looked like holes in heaven’s floor.

Jax’s mind was clear – not a single stray thought corrupting the peacefulness of the moment. The roof may have trembled under his feet, good old tunes rocking the walls of the club, but he heard none of it, not a single note. Hollowing his cheeks, he took a deep drag of his cigarette ; the smoke eddied coolly down his throat, until he puffed it out slowly – milky white and circular.

This stillness was new to Jax, the feeling of time rolling by in its silent and endless way soothing him. He wallowed in it for a moment ; until the thuds of careful steps reached his ears.

Dumping the cigarette butt over the roof and straight down on the parking lot, Jax watched Opie’s impressive, broad frame block the harvest moon from the view, as he slowly climbed the stairs.

‘If this ain’t the man of the hour,’ Jax said, his lips bearing the semblance of a smile. ‘Tired of enjoying your last days of freedom yet?’

Opie chuckled quietly, making his way to his best friend. He shook his head slightly, taking a seat next to Jax, his eyes immediately drawn to the beauty that was the night sky.

‘I’ve belonged to Donna since forever, man,’ Opie shrugged, moonlight reflecting in his dark eyes. ‘This is just an excuse for boys to enjoy booze and pussy’.

Jax rolled his tongue over his bottom lip before biting on it, smiling knowingly.

‘Yeah,’ he let out, nodding slowly. Fumbling with his cigarettes, he offered one to Ope. Winston gladly accepted, lighting it up.

They sat in a comfortable silence for a while, listening to downtown Charming snore softly in its agitated sleep.

‘Saw you talking to Ima at the bar,’ Opie was first to break the silence, exhaling the smoke. ‘She still carries a torch for you?’

A crooked half-smile graced Jax’ face at the question; he slowly stood up, raising both of his hands and stretching, the hoodie he was wearing rolling up a tad, thus showing toned muscles.

‘Don’t even get me started on this one, man’, Jax shook his head, raising his eyebrows in desperate gesture. ‘She keeps pestering me about that old lady shit…’

Opie whistled, watching Jax lean over the roof barrier, and following him shortly.

‘Ima? An old lady?’ Opie repeated in disbelief, Jax watching him with a blooming smirk. ‘She’s really getting desperate ain’t she?’

Jax let out a booming laugh before staring down into the ground, his thoughts taking him elsewhere.

Comfotable silence settled over the roof again. It were as if the world had stopped, came to a much needed halt, yet both Jax and Opie knew the feeling wouldn’t last.

‘I don’t think I’ll ever get around to what you’re doing, Ope’, Teller suddenly confessed, unblinking, voicing the thoughts that’d been plaguing his mind for what seemed like ages. ‘How am I supposed to ask someone to just open themselves up to the neverending load of shit we’re dealing with on a regular basis? I deal arms, I sell porn, I hurt people. That’s all I’m good for. Who would ever want to be associated with this kind of psycho, huh? Maybe Ima is my end game.’

Jax smiled bitterly, stealing a quick glance at the Teller Morrow sign on his left, even unlit a painful reminder of who he was. Opie grabbed Jax’s shoulder, squeezing it tightly.

‘Bullshit,’ he protested, shoving Jax back a tad unintentionally. He looked Teller right into the eyes, holding that heavy stare of stormy blue orbs for a moment. ‘I know someone who did want that, Jax’, he finally said, letting go of his friend, sadness lacing his words. ‘You’re not asking for a goddamn moon’.

The Vice-President of SAMCRO sneered, biting on the inside of his cheek. Opie knew he took a plunge in dangerous waters with that statement, but he also knew he needed to put this shit Jax’d been going through ever since that fight of yours on the table.

‘Damn straight I am,’ Jax bit back roughly, not even trying not to rise to the bait. ‘That someone you know made sure I was aware of that,’ he spat, his voice dripping with anger.

‘You’re not being fair, man’ Opie stated sternly, taking a step back and shoving both hands into his jeans’ pockets, his eyes never quitting Jax’ face. ‘You both said things you didn’t mean that night. Besides,’ his voice softening up a bit, he continued. ‘Can you really blame her? After what we did to the A.T.F.?’

Jax scoffed, turning his head in Opie’s direction. The fire that anger lit in his eyes wasn’t quite gone yet, its sparks still lingering on the surface of Teller’s irises.

‘Donna didn’t seem to mind,’ he observed spitefully, turning around and leaning on the barrier, folding his hands across his chest, as if protecting his bleeding heart.

‘Donna doesn’t know!’ Opie retorted almost instantly. ‘That’s why I’m still marrying her on Tuesday!’ once the words were out of his mouth, he rubbed one of his hands against his beard, looking away, exasperated. ‘Y/N didn’t tell her shit’, he added quietly.

Gritting his teeth, Jax faced the barrier again, grabbing it with both of his hands. Rocking himself back and forth on his heels, he let out an irritated, rumbling sigh.

There was something in that sound of air pushing its way in between Jax’s lips that made Opie freeze; the fierceness of heartache behind it. Opie watched. He watched Jax’s face, as Teller bit the inside of his bottom lip, shaking his head, lowering his gaze – hiding those glossy baby blues of his.

Then he knew.

Jax’s anger was nothing but a shield for pain. Empty bravado. Signifying nothing.

Each word coming out of Teller’s mouth was an activated grenade; Jax was a soldier, cornered by his pain, scared, desperate and so damn lonely. Bitterness was his surviving mechanism. Little did he know that those verbal grenades he threw would eventually end up backfiring at him. And then that anger – that shield he carried – would clatter to the ground and the pain would hit him like a tsunami. Choking him. Drowning him.

‘I don’t care,’ Jax finally spoke, facing his best friend again. Strangled emotion seeped out of his words, only confirming what Ope had already knew. ‘If I had to choose between Y/N and that A.T.F.’s wife again, I wouldn’t have done a damn thing differently. I will always choose Y/N.’

Protectiveness rang in Jax’s voice, like bullets falling on the ground. He eyed Opie almost threateningly, daring him to challenge his statement.

Opie nodded slowly, reassuringly. This simple gesture made Jax’s body relax a bit, as he rolled back his shoulders.

‘I know, man,’ Opie spoke calmly. ‘Y/N knows it, too, and she’s grateful, trust me. There was only one way to do it with her getting out alive,’ Winston frowned at the thought, watching the same kind of expression darken Jax’s features. ‘She now lives with the weight of two deaths on her shoulders, for God’s sake, cut her some slack.’

‘She didn’t pull that trigger on the A.T.F. when he came asking about his old lady, Ope,’ Jax rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands tiredly. He clearly did not want to have the same kind of conversation with Ope that he would have with himself in the darkness of the night. ‘I did’, he said, more to himself than to Winston, not even looking at his brother. ‘I killed him.’

Jax vocalized what he’d been telling himself ever since you left, forcing himself to believe that this – he – was the reason you two broke and could never be put together again.

‘Those two deaths are on me,’ he added, hoping his mind would be satisfied with the self-hatred audible in his confession. But it wasn’t. He knew the same thoughts would be back to haunt him in the night all over again.

‘This is on Mayans, Jax, all of it’, Opie tried to counter, watching Jax being submerged with the idea of who he thought he was. The idea that was, of course, complete and utter bullshit. ‘All you did was protecting your family. Protecting the club.’

‘Yeah, whatever’, Jax managed a small smile, almost free of bitterness. ‘It’s over, Ope. It’s done’.

Lowering his head, Jax searched for his cigarettes in his pockets, slapping his palms against the leather of his kutte. Finally finding what he’d been looking for, he took a Zippo lighter from Opie’s stretched hand and lit up the cancer stick.

Hollowing his cheeks, inhaling deeply, Jax raised his eyebrows at Ope, judging from his uneasy expression that he wanted to speak, but weren’t sure how to go about it.

‘You know it ain’t over, man’ Winston finally managed, his voice quiet and hoarse. ‘You still love her’.

The statement made Jax chuckle for some mysterious reason ; he threw his head back, slowly exhaling the smoke as it carressed his lips. Watching Ope with the same amused yet hard expression he learned to master, Jax spread his arms, as wide as they would go.

‘Yeah, well, I guess I’m shit out of luck then, ain’t I?’ a wicked smile grew on his mouth. ‘I’ll just have to find someone half as good as her, and that’s that. Consider myself lucky if I do.’

Opie huffed out a breath, looking away and down at the parking lot, shaking his head. Jax leaned against the roof barrier, taking another deep drag of his cigarette, dropping his gaze.

‘Or,’ Opie broke the silence all of the sudden. ‘You can just talk to her. Work this shit out’.

Jax gave his friend a sideways glance, a ghost of hope settling along the curves of his red lips.

‘She won’t see me, Ope,’ Jax’s words were contradicting his body language. He stood straighter, letting his chest open up as he leaned backfirst onto the barrier. ‘I’m dead to her’.

‘Guess she’s here to visit your grave then,’ Opie smirked, motioning towards the parking lot with a slight movement of his chin.

Jax’s immediate reaction was a deep, skin-creasing frown, his mind a surging perplexity. Opie could literally see the realization dawn on him, the walls he had spent all these years bulding high and deep crumbling at his feet. All it took was one look at you ; one look at that black car that brought you home.

Dread flashing in his blue eyes, excitement creeping up his spine, Jax didn’t even realize he’d been holding his breath for three minutes straight. His heart trying to escape the rattling cage that was his chest, Teller closed his eyes. Anticipation tingling through him like electric current, down to his Nike-cladded feet, he bit his bottom lip, regaining control over his body.

His blue sparkling eyes flashed in the darkness as Opie’s gentle, yet slightly mocking voice cut the tension like a knife :

‘If I were you,’ trying to keep the urge to smile at bay, Winston pursued his lips. ‘I’d hurry downstairs before Ima spots Y/N at the entrance…’

‘Shit !’ Jax hissed, already climbing down the stairs as fast as his feet would take him. In one adrenaline-fuelled jump he leapt towards the entrance door of the club, his brain on fast-forward and his heart skipping several beats at a time at the thought of seeing you…

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