#jax teller x zo

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 3.2k Warnings: swears, alcohol, 18+ absolute smutty smut smut smut

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

𝙏𝙒𝙊 𝙈𝙊𝙉𝙏𝙃𝙎 𝙇𝘼𝙏𝙀𝙍.

He had been gone for a fortnight.

Pulled away on club business, Jax said this would be a common occurrence. Even though he knew it would happen, it didn't stop him from thinking of you every minute.

He thought about your hazel eyes, long red-brown hair, and all those tattoos…that he had yet to touch.

This was the longest Jax had left for club business, and it drove you mad. After that night of confessions, your relationship progressed. You had your first date only a few days after deciding to be with each other. And if anything, your relationship was a bit back to front.

At least it didn’t start with a one-night stand. In fact, you hadn’t fucked Jax at all. Not once. You had come close, but there was always an interruption; something with the club, his kids, or either of you just not being ready.

  And you still hadn’t been formally introduced to Abel and Thomas.

The thought sent a jolt of both shivers and through you. If everything Jax said was true, then, well… you were going to be their stepmother.

The word felt sour in your mouth. Stepmother. The first word a person associated with that was evil - thanks to the many fairytales. But you weren’t evil. Far from it. Just a woman who loved a man and wanted to spend the rest of her days with him.  

  Plus, motherhood – you hadn’t even thought of it. Having a child yourself felt like a faraway event, something that was years away. Many, many years away. It would happen in the future. But for now, you only had to get to know Abel and Thomas.

But to do that…

You had to get through Wendy and Gemma.

- ✦ -

After Jax said he was leaving for club business, you thought it was a good idea to go back to work (even though Jax would have paid your wage, so you didn’t have to.) But you wanted to do something with your time, and where would Skeeter be without you? Up to his knees in paperwork and shit. That’s what.

To survive the time that Jax was away, he would call you every night. It was around the same time; early in the morning when he knew you would be awake. So, around 2-3am. And that worked just fine for him, since sleeping wasn’t an easy feat. And it worked perfectly for you, who was at work, alone (beside the newly patched in member outside – Happy was away as well).

At night, nightmares littered Jax’s mind.

Images of Tara, of his boys’ faces when he told them about her going to heaven. But you became his solace. And that meant he was eager to introduce you to his boys.

You sat at the front desk of Dubrowski's Funeral Home; paperwork scattered around you. For a moment you stared out the window, noticing that the darkness outside was closer to the morning then the evening. And yet, you were wide awake. An electrical buzz vibrating through your body, you couldn’t help the anticipation you felt.

The radio played old music; 70s, 80s, 90s, hits that you had heard a thousand times by now. The radio station loved to play the same thing. It was the only station that was on at this time. You looked over at the clock, and it read 3:25am. Late. He never waited this long to call. Sadness turned into dread when you thought about all the possibilities that could have happened to Jax.

He's fine. Probably just forgot to charge his phone, or maybe he lost it or – buzz! You leapt from your seat and grabbed your phone to see the name that popped up, Pretty Boy Teller, and you pressed answer.

- ✦ -

You had thought about Jax, naked, for a very long time. Never would you admit it, but you had daydreamed about being with him … seeing his cock. What did it look like? Was it big? What if you didn’t live up to his other experiences?

Those thoughts usually wormed their way into your mind right before you fell asleep. You had even masturbated over him. Different scenarios of you and him. Sometimes in the clubhouse, sometimes in your house, and sometimes in the shower or ... a public bathroom.

However, your sexual desires always had one thing in common: Jax was the dominant one. Even though you were a lady that could handle herself, you wanted to be looked after in the bedroom.

But the time for your questions to be answered was looming, and you couldn't deny the growing anxiety within you.

What if you didn't live up to Jax's expectations?

- ✦ -

You thought kissing Jax for the first time was the best day of your life. But no. Seeing him leaning against his bike in your driveway takes the cake.

   “How you doin’ sweetheart?” Jax says with a smirk, his hair slicked back and hands in his jean pockets.

  You knew he was toying with you. And you played along.

       “I’m alright,” you reply nonchalantly, resting against the doorway, blinking slowly.

He broke first.

  “Get over here,” Jax said in a low growl. He stalked over to you and even though you were a step ahead above him, he was still a few inches above you.

“I got something for you,” he opened his kutte and took out a box from the inside pocket. His smile reached his eyes and the crinkled with delight. He couldn’t wait for you to open it. Over your many conversations you spoke about your love for sterling silver rings, especially the chunky ones.

   “And don’t take this as … a sign…” he gave a little shake of the head and huffed a small laugh. Slightly embarrassed.

His tanned hand held out the box and you took it. Flipping open the box, you saw a silver skull with a crown on its head.

  While you inspected it, Jax kept talking, “I saw it in a shop in the town we were staying at. And I – I thought of you.”

Warmth bloomed in your chest, and wanted to jump into his arms and plant kisses all over his face. But you held back, trying to keep your cool. But Jax could see the blaze in your eyes, the burning desire. Because … you were finally alone together.

“Thank you, Jax,” you said in your most sultry voice.

But time was ticking, and the club house party had already started.

- ✦ -

The clubhouse was alive with energy. As if it had a soul of its own, the building breathed along with everyone else. Fires burned outside in bins, warming those who preferred the night air. Even though no children were here tonight, there was a mini playground with a set of swings in a small, fenced area, clearly showing that kids were here often throughout the day.

You were surprised with how many people were here. Even outside, there were many tattooed men and women; speaking, flirting, laughing, dancing to music. As you got off of the bike, Jax threaded his fingers into yours. There was an overwhelming smell of booze and cigarettes. My kinda party, you thought, as you walked hand in hand with Jax.

    “Don’t worry darlin’, this is gonna be fun.” Jax turned to you with a gleam in his eye and leaned down to give you a kiss. Leading you toward the building, the crunch of boots on gravel filled your ears, and then all once, everyone noticed Jax.

You watched as people flocked toward him, both known and unknown faces. But one stands out the most. Wendy. She stood with her arms crossed her chest, high-heeled black boots pointed toward you, almost like two loaded guns. Her blonde hair perfectly curled, and her lips pursed, you noticed how dolled up she was. And you knew who for. Jax.

  Looking at her straight in the eye, you slid your arm around Jax’s waist and moved closer to him. His body’s response was instant. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kept it there for most of the night.

- ✦ -

As soon as you walked inside, you were met with the loud boom of both yours and Jax’s names.

    “Jax! Zo!” Tig yelled and grabbed the bottle in front of him, a stray glass and poured you a drink. Bobby was nowhere to be seen, and Chibs was sitting at the bar surrounded by croweaters. When he heard your name, he left his chair and wrapped his arms around you.

“Hey Tig, Chibs-” you laughed, holding the glass so that it didn’t spill from the hug. Jax had already unwound himself from you and went to hug his mother, Gemma, who was staring you down like … a goddamn piece of meat. Even when she hugged her son, and kissed him on the cheek, her eyes never left yours.

Lady Death. The one who had birthed the Prince, was wearing all black, even down to her shiny heeled heels.

Fuck, you thought. And downed the drink from Tig.

With croweaters eyeing you, but never looking directly in your eyes, you walked over to the Queen.

    “Hi, I’m Zoe,” you said with a smile. Hoping she couldn’t smell fear.

- ✦ -

This is going well, you thought, trying not to say the wrong thing. Gemma wasn’t being too hard on you, but she was asking a lot of questions. ‘Where do you live,’ ‘Where do you work,’ ‘How long have you been in Charming,’ ‘Do you have any family.’ You answered each with grace and humour. Even Tig came over to add to the conversation.

  “I ugh, I’ve known Jax for a while-“ answering mid question, you heard the approaching noise of high heels. Clip clop, clip clop.

    “Well Jax, I guess she wasn’t a one night stand afterall?”

Wendy’s voice filled your ears, and you were glad for Tig’s drink.

You didn’t even look at Jax for an answer.

Yes, Wendy felt like a threat to you. Her history with Jax left you with unbridled jealousy. But it was plain fucking obvious that you were a threat to her too.

Your head whipped around to find Wendy with a slight smirk on her pretty face. Black kohl and thickened lashes enhanced her eyes; doing their best to stare you down.

   “Hey, I could be an escort for all you know,” you replied back with a ghost of a smile, not caring a single bit about what Wendy thought of you. As she started to reply, you walked over to the bar and asked for the lone bottle of Rye.

  The croweater behind the bar gave it to you, and a fresh glass.

“Well, I’m sure it’s not the first time Jax has dabbled in that area,” You heard the defeat in Wendy’s voice. You could almost feel it.

   Both the Teller’s were watching the show, Gemma enjoying it much more than her son. He was about to step in after you had taken a full shot of the whiskey. But you re-filled it and handed the glass to Wendy.

  Not expecting that move, Wendy took the glass and at the same time, Jax took ahold of your free hand.

   “C’mon babe,” Jax seemed to growl, both with light-heartedness and a possessiveness that everyone in the room felt.

- ✦ -

The ride back felt torturous. The wet growing between your thighs worsened beneath the rumbling of the bike. It was almost like the motor vibrated, and your hands clutched onto Jax’s shirt tighter. Leaning your head forward, you rested it against Jax, and you wanted so badly for him to turn onto the side of the road and take you there.

But you knew Jax wouldn’t want anyone to see you that way. You were only for his eyes. It was one of the things he had said during one of your phone calls.

  The night flew by in a blur, and then suddenly you were home and the bike stopped, and you were pulled inside.

Within seconds, Jax’s mouth was on yours, his tongue toying with your own. His leg pushed the door shut, without his mouth leaving yours and pushed you against the wall. With arms on either side of your head, he pulled back and looked deep into your eyes.

    “You’re mine,” he growled. Not moving until you said it back.

“I’m yours,” you breathed and leaned down to nip your bottom lip with his teeth.

    “That’s right, Princess,” and he removed his hands from either side of your head. The look in his eye made goosebumps erupt over your skin. And the wetness between your thighs started to become overwhelming. You wanted to reach down and relieve yourself, but you knew who was in charge here.

Hands travelling over your shirt, Jax took off your jacket, “arms up, sweetheart,” complying, he lifted your shirt over your arms and his eyes landed on your laced bra.

  Jax smirked, and ran his fingers down your lips, to your throat, and over the warm place between your breasts. But he didn’t stop there. Jax’s finger travelled downward, and when he came upon the heat at your core, he growled.

Jax didn’t say anything but made the most animalistic rumble in his throat. Using his whole hand, he gripped your cunt over your jeans.

  Flicking from the Prince of Death to Jax Teller, he kissed you again.

     “You excited there, Princess?” His voice reeked of arrogance, and with one finger he wiped it against your wetness and brought it to his mouth. Sucking on his fingers, he told you to open wide.

   You did as you were told and opened your mouth. The mixture of your slick and Jax’s spit entered your mouth and you moaned.

The sound drove him mad. He had wanted you for so long, and now … now he got to have you.

     “Mine,” he growled again and picked you up, letting your legs wrap around his middle and walked you into the bedroom. You felt the hardness in his pants. And every time he took a step, it bumped against your ass.

The whole time, you stared at Jax. Unwavering longing that was finally happening. But it wouldn’t be until the morning that the thought would sink in.

  Laying you down on the bed, Jax took a moment to stare down at the masterpiece below him. A woman who had been there the whole time. Who Jax had felt so connected to, for all these years.

   “You okay with this?” Jax said, his chest heaving up and down, adrenaline surging through his veins.

  “Of course I’m fucking sure,” you said with a mischievous smile.

Nostrils flaring, Jax took off his kutte, shirt and unbuckled his pants. You took off your pants and kicked them aside in a flurry.

    And then your bodies connected.

With nothing but your undergarments on, Jax slowly moved your bra straps down and threaded your arms through them. Your pointed nipples peaked just above the lace, and you moaned from the feeling of the material.

   Leaning down, Jax’s hot mouth encased your nipple and bit down. Pleasure bloomed inside you, making your hot core even wetter. Jax’s hand grabbed your other breast and started kneading it, and in that moment he created a world that was only for your pleasure and desire.

But soon you turned impatient and tried your best to rub your core against the hardness of his cock, which was still in his boxers. And then you felt Jax’s smile against your body, knowing exactly what you were trying to do. With a huff, you threaded your hands through his hair and tugged lightly.

   Pulling his head upwards you lunged up and pressed your lips against his. With his attention in the kiss, you pulled down his underwear and let his cock spring free.

Even though you couldn’t see it, you could feel its size and length. Girthy, veined and … big. Oh, fucking hell, you thought to yourself.

    He sucked in a breath as one of your hands grabbed it and moved back and forth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded.

Within seconds, your panties and bra were ripped off of you and your legs were wrapped around his middle.

   “Don’t have to ask me twice,” and Jax centred his cock at your entrance. And took a moment to slowly tease between your folds.

  You whined in response, and Jax laughed.

“Okay sweetheart,” he huffed and pushed his cock inside of you.

  His strokes started off slow; Jax wanted you to adjust to his size before he did anything else.

   But you wanted him deep inside of you, so you tightened your legs around his waist and bucked upward to meet him. Partially surprised, he groaned in response and leaned forward, with his forearms on either side of your head.

  He stopped mid thrust to look you in the eyes. Jax’s blue ones bore into you, silently expressing how he felt. The longing over the years had been leading to this.

   Jax gently flicked his nose against yours, then pressed his lips to your own. You whimpered into the kiss, your insides feeling like honey as you felt every movement, both physical and emotional.

  Then Jax started plunging deeper and harder inside of you. The whole while, his lips were on your own, needing to kiss you. To feel as much of you as he could. He had daydreamed about the two of you ever since that night at Skeeter’s.

  When the plunging turned to pounding, your core started to build. It was when Jax moved one of his hands to play with your clit, did you realise just how brilliant this man was in bed.

   “Jax, I- I’m going to-“ You whined inside his mouth.

“C’mon baby, do it,” and with his words, his fingers and his cock still inside of you, you came.

   The noises that left your mouth were ones only Jax was going to here from now. And he thought they were absolutely divine. A piece of heaven that was only for him.

  And it was the sound of your orgasm that made him cum. When he went to pull out of you, you tightened your grip around his waist and pleaded for him to cum inside of you.

     “I’m on the pill,” you rasped, assuring him. Although, he wouldn’t mind putting a baby inside of you.

- ✦ -

The morning light filtered through the barely shut curtains. Warm and bright, it mirrored exactly how you felt inside. Jax hadn’t woken yet; this was the first night that he was able to finally sleep. And get a full night’s rest, well, not a full night…

Your hands lightly ran over the exposed flesh. Heat blooming through your body as you recalled the activities you did last night.

   You could already see the hickies forming on Jax, and you knew you had just as many. If it was childish, you didn’t care. It was your first time together. All you knew was that you loved the feeling of his body against yours. And that meant your ability to reason was completely out the window.

 Your time of admiration was cut short, as it took Jax only a few minutes to wake. But the way he smiled at you - sleepily and bleary-eyed but with utter love - made you silently thank any and every god for being allowed to be his.

    “Mornin’ sweetheart,” Jax's voice was raspy and slightly deeper than usual. And instantly it created butterflies in your stomach. God, even your toes tingled.

“Good morning, Jax,” you said, embarrassment creeping up on you. You did your best not to show it, but you couldn't let him look at you any longer. So, you buried your face in his chest.

     Laughing, he flipped you over and moved the hair from your face. Forcing you to see him. For a heartbeat, he just looked at you, the woman he loved. Then he bent down and kissed you. After a few moments, he pulled back.

“I have a question to ask you,” he said slightly above a whisper.

     Your stomach gurgled. “Yes?”

“Do you think you’d be up to meeting my boys today?”

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2k Warnings: swears, reader is currently kidnapped, violence, mentions of blood, guns, cigarettes etc

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

(I know this may be a small thing, but reader is always titled ‘Zo’ rather than ‘the girl.’ It’s a small detail that I included because the Sons have a lot of respect for Zo. She’s not some random girl, she’s their Zo.) 

 The air was crisp, and when the Scotsman spoke, it was as if fire was rising from the pit of his stomach, turning to smoke as he spoke.

“You sure about that lad?” Chibs said and almost like a call to war, the Sons whipped out their weapons and pointed them at the opposing men.

  “Fuck,” one of the men grunted. You smiled, not being able to help it.  

The crickets weren’t chirping any longer. Their breath held just like the men behind you.

 These idiots had gotten in way over their heads. It’s what happens when a boy gets too big for his boots. Thinks he’s a gangster. Maybe the instigator grew up rich, maybe he idolised these types of men, or maybe this was retaliation. Whatever the reason, the Sons couldn’t give a fuck.

  Plus, the one you attacked needed to be seen by a professional. And that definitely wasn’t in the agreement.

“Now, we want Zo, and you can have ye money,” Chibs continued on.

   With the guns aimed at their heads, the four men didn’t seem as confident as they were mere seconds ago. Knowing that made you smile even more. You were once scared, but now … well now you were flooded with delight.

                                                          - ✦ -

Jax couldn’t keep his eyes from you. Even from afar, he was searching for any major wounds, and he nearly lurched forward when he saw the blood. The sight of you sprawled on the dirt ground, cuts and scratches covering your exposed body parts. Part of him crumbled inside. Must have been whatever was left of his heart.

   “I said no injuries,” Jax’s eyes were ablaze.

“Oh – well, that happened before the call…and the majority of the blood isn’t hers.” The ‘leader’ said in an obvious fake-confident tone. He had rushed saying the last part. They knew just how fucked they were.

    “What-“ Jax was going to press for more information, but he saw the ghost of a devilish smile on your face.

    He smirked, already figuring it out. That’s my girl, he thought.

You caught his eye and winked.

 Like fuck you couldn’t handle this life. He didn’t know you, or your backstory. Nor the horror you had endured. This? This was nothing. That other night? You realised that it hadn’t had affected you as badly as you thought. You could function, hell, right now you felt on top of the world.

 But that was …

Fuck.

 It was because of Jax.

He instilled so much confidence in you. Like you came alight whenever he was near. Not like twin flames, but like you were the air that flamed his fire. But you could also quell it. He could warm you, but … also burn you. He had burned you. And this was why you were in this mess.

 Maybe he hadn’t realised just how much his words meant to you? He definitely didn’t know how long you had yearned for him. So his dismissal felt like the end of the world.

It was like he could read your face, the thoughts so clearly askew on your dirt-covered features.

  He really meant something to you.

Jax felt a sharp pang in his chest, and he felt like… crying.

 You deserved so much better. And he didn’t feel good enough. That he couldn’t provide anything that would satisfy you. Not completely.

                                                             - ✦ -

  “Okay, okay,” your almost-lover lowered his weapon, motioning for his guys to do the same. They did so, albeit slowly.

 “Up,” he whispered, that cologne had excited you only hours before, and now it disgusted every part of your body.

 Grabbing you underneath the armpit, he roughly got you to your feet. You stumbled and he gripped you harder. That’s when you swung the rock sharply at his face.

“Fuck YOU!” You screamed. The anger boiling over. Like a pot on a stove unattended, the lid rattled and water sizzled.

      “AH! FUCK!” He shrieked, dropping his gun entirely, and covering his dripping face.

Then shots rang out, loud and echoing.

  But the man was still screaming, and you didn’t stop your attack. Bullets be damned, you were going to get your revenge no matter what. He wasn’t going to walk away from this unscathed.

You hadn’t waited for hours for nothing. You weren’t a damsel in distress. You were a viper lying in wait.

  Your arm was brought up then down, up then down, over and over. Smashing the man’s face in.

“FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU!” You screamed it over and over. Until his face was … no more.

   “Zo, zo, Zoe!” Familiar hands were on you now. A familiar smell, warmth, voice.

It halted you. Someone had turned down the heat on the stove, until it was completely off. The water had stopped boiling, all that was left was a lidded pot with warm water.

You sagged in his arms.

 “It’s okay,” Jax said, taking the bloodied rock from your hands. At some point you had started crying, the tears trailing clean lines down your dirtied face.

You let him pick you up and walk you to the other Sons. Turning your head, you realised that the sound of bullets were your men killing your captures.  

And that meant … you were safe.

                                                               - ✦ -

The ride back was a blur.

 Tig had wrapped a blanket around your shoulders, because as soon as you got in the car, you started shaking. Shock, the cold – whatever it was, they were worried.  

  “I-I’m fine,” you mumbled, but clutched at the scratchy blanket and hugged it closer around your body.

  “Any longer out there and the cold would’ve killed her,” Juice said to Happy, whose nose flared in response.

The ride was silent, no one asked you any questions. You had changed the course of action with your decision to bludgeon someone to death.

 No one batted an eye at it. The man deserved it. And a few prospects would be out there in a few hours to clean up the mess. She’s gonna be fine, Jax thought. His eyes were full of concern.

 When they got back to the clubhouse, they all jumped out and helped you inside.

Like a watch dog, Happy didn’t leave your side. Chibs had started you a hot shower, a mug of tea and some buttered toast. (The only food the clubhouse has - Chucky hadn’t been grocery shopping yet).

Who knew bikers could be such mother hens?

                                                           - ✦ -

     Chibs had run the shower in Jax’s room.

   You halted in the doorway, and the blonde-haired beauty motioned for you to come in. You didn’t notice the mess, your head too fuzzy to think clearly. It wasn’t as messy as Jax’s bedroom at home. Chucky made sure to keep the rooms at the clubhouse at least somewhat presentable.

  You didn’t see the near empty bottles that were scattered on the bathroom bench. Cologne, aftershave, simple things. He didn’t stay here often. The boys had a home, and that’s where Jax stayed.

 The bathroom was steamy by the time you entered, and you sighed in relief at the warmth. The ensuite wasn’t small, but it wasn’t big either. A toilet, sink and shower with a window that so high up and small that no one could enter or exit nor see in.

  Jax held your face in his hands but your eyes were glazed over and he knew you couldn’t do this yourself.

     “I’m gonna help you okay? You tell me if you don’t want me to-“

You murmured a yes and that’s all he needed.

    Undressing you, he tried not to look at your … private bits… and helped you into the shower. It was the perfect temperature; Chibs had made sure of it.

Letting the water soak your hair, he got the wash cloth and cleaned all the dirt and grime from your face, hands, and body. Jax was being so gentle, so soft.

      His rings glinted on the bathroom countertop.

Using his own shampoo, he massaged it into your hair and made sure it didn’t get in your eyes. He made sure to wipe your hands. Dirt and blood covered them. By the time he was done, they looked normal.

     You were silent as he cleaned, not caring how he saw you.

There was a part of you that was shocked at what you did. You had beaten a man. Was it you that killed him or a bullet? Maybe he was shot so you would never know. Once again the Sons looked out for you.

  “I’m sorry this happened to you,” Jax’s voice was barely above a whisper. His hands worked as he spoke, rinsing you once again. You were washed a few times. You must have been covered in grime…or maybe he liked this. You liked this. You couldn’t deny it. The words weren’t coming out, but you knew what was going on.

 Jax kept speaking. Pulling you out of whatever hole your mind was creating.

“You don’t deserve this Zo. This is what I meant. Why I left,” he turned off the faucet and wrapped the fresh towel around you. Surprisingly, it was clean.

  “I handled it,” you mumbled, standing on the mat. Water dripped down your face, down your back, your neck.

Jax was shocked to hear you speak, as he returned with the mug and toast. He led you into the bedroom. Where clothes were laid out for you. A big black SOA shirt, boxers, and a jumper.

 Jax placed the food and drink on the dresser and turned as you changed. Giving you some privacy.

“You did.” His words hit hard. So hard. They were validating.

    “I did.”

When you were dressed, you sat on the bed and exhaustion hit you.

 Jax moved the food closer to you, and you took a bite, a sip and that’s all you wanted. You moved up the bed and Jax helped so you could wriggle underneath.

 You remembered your boys then, just as you got cosy.

“My dogs-“

   “I’ll get one of the guys to check on ‘em. You just rest.”

You nodded your head in thanks.

He still had his big boots on, no white sneakers in sight. You thought maybe he would get a shower too, but he just laid on his back beside you. Unspeaking.

     “Jax-“

“Just rest.”

                                                              - ✦ -

The morning light filtered through the curtains. But you didn’t stir. You slept, and no one was to wake you – Jax’s orders.

 Even as the hours ticked by, he let you rest.

   It wasn’t until 2pm that you woke. You started awake, unsure of where you were. But calmed instantly once you realised it was just the clubhouse. In Jax’s room… in Jax’s bed.

Your cheeks flushed when you realised that he had seen you naked. Flushed even more once you realised he had been so gentle.

Finding that your clothes were nowhere to be found (Chucky had put them in the wash), you tried to find … suitable … clothing. And trudged into the common room.

Everyone was there.

 Even Gemma, Wendy and the boys. You blushed so much you could feel it in your legs.

“Afternoon,” someone called and you just nodded. You felt so lost, until you saw that familiar head of blonde hair. The anxiety eased.

  “Hey, how you feelin’?” Jax had changed since last night. But he’d never left the clubhouse. Not wanting to leave you.

     “Ugh, I feel…rested,” you replied, eyeing Wendy as she eyed you.

“That’s good,” his hand gently held your cheek and you sucked in a breath.

    You looked up into his face and he stared straight back. Then his other hand went to your other cheek and swore the world stopped.

It was only you and Jax. You could feel it. Just the two of you.

    And then his lips pressed against yours. Soft and gentle, exactly as he was last night.

There was a round of cheers, whistles and cat calls. But you couldn’t hear them, because no one but you and the Prince of Charming existed.

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2k Warnings: swears, alcohol

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

You couldn’t deny what your body had yearned for, for so long. It was like calling to like. Two souls finally merging in the most innocent yet passionate way.

   Jax’s hands were on either side of your cheeks, pulling you in close for such an intimate kiss. And you couldn’t help but melt into it. Like

 And yet you were instantly reminded that there was a room full of people who were watching intently.

You heard a cough; Gemma, who shrugged and shook her head with her hands in the air. The other Sons had stopped jeering, and funnily enough it was the silence that pulled you from the moment.

Backing away, you gently held your palm up to Jax’s chest.

 Shaking your head, face ablaze with red, you walked backwards and down the hall.

You paced back and forth, mind swirling with thoughts. Your head felt heavy, your limbs slow and aching.

How could he do this now? Was it supposed to be a romantic gesture, to show all his club that you were with him?

You were fighting with yourself. Split down the middle. One part aching for the smooth, supple feel of Jax’s lips. The warmth that spread throughout your body.

And the other half was … angry. Why now? After you proved yourself? After enduring enough trauma that Jax now knew you could handle club life?

Fuck.

                                                           - ✦ -

“Hey, what was that?”

   “Wh-“ You stopped yourself and held up a hand, while the other pinched the bridge of your nose. “What the fuck do you think it was? Am I supposed to forgive and forget everything that happened? Now you want me, now. As if what happened was some sort of fucked up test. And finally you see my strength. No Jax-“

  You barely took a breath between each sentence. He didn’t interrupt you, but shook his head with pleading eyes.

   “No – no, that’s not it at all,” Jax stepped forward and tried to take hold of your hand, but you moved it out of reach. Taking a step back you pulled at the black club shirt you were wearing and felt the urge to tear it off.

  “I am capable Jax. I always have been. Why did it take you this long to figure it out?”

Your eyes glossed over, and you damned your emotions. ‘Do not cry. Do not fucking cry,’ you said in your fuzzy head. Did you still feel this way because of last night, or because of the kiss? Either could be possible. Because both shook you to your core.

Even so, last night felt like a haze. And you couldn’t remember all the details. Only that your nails were bloodstained, even though Jax tried his best to scrub everything from you. He’d do anything to erase any hurt you held. Not just because of him, but because of the world. He hated that you ever had to endure pain. On any level.

                                                          - ✦ -

“I want to go home.” Your words were a precise demand. You didn’t want to talk any longer, you didn’t even want to look at Jax.

And he saw that. Jax knew it was pain, because he saw that same look in Tara’s eyes when he said she wasn’t apart of this family, all those years ago.

Was…was he doomed to repeat the same thing over and over again? That was apart of his fear. Why he didn’t want you close. Because too close meant danger, just like last night. Would that happen again?

So, he got Happy to give you a ride back home. And told him to stay a while, make sure you were okay. Give you some company. Even if you didn’t want any.

                                                          - ✦ -

“Happy, really, I’m okay,” you said, walking into the kitchen. The dog’s had been fed – you could tell by the way the food had been put back.

   “What if I wanted some company?” His light hearted yet gruff voice filled the room.

You huffed and shook your head. “Then go find a croweater.”

 He gave you ‘fucking really?’ kind of look and plopped himself on the couch. Picking up the remote, he turned on the television and flicked through the channels.

Rolling your eyes, you set out to find your boys. Angus and Jango were laying on the foot of your bed, and when they heard your footsteps, they lunged upward. They knew you well.

  Tails wagging and a little whining, you gave the Doberman and Border Collie good belly rubs. You got on the floor, and they surrounded you. Safe. Completely safe is what you felt. Their bodies rested against yours, and you sighed in relief. You couldn’t think about what would’ve happened to them if something happened to you.

   “Hey, you hungry?” Happy called from the living room and the two dogs jumped up and ran down the hall.

“Traitors,” you mumbled, and answered back with a hesitant yes. The dogs knew Happy, they’d been around him for many months. He would have been the one to come around and feed them last night. Or was it this morning? You didn’t know – either way, if it was any other man, he would have been ripped apart.

“Aight,” was all you heard as you walked into your bedroom and undressed. You still had on the borrowed clothing, and right now, you desperately needed it off.

 Even from your ensuite, you could hear the clanging of pots and pans. You assumed Happy would go out and get something, but apparently now, you had a personal chef.

You didn’t know what you had in your pantry or fridge. The milk was definitely expired. So, your expectations were low, but after showering and changing, you came out to the kitchen to find an absolute feast.

 “Didn’t know if you wanted scrambled, fried, or poached eggs. So, I’ve-“ there was a ding and Happy stopped mid-sentence to check on the currently poaching eggs.

 With raised eyebrows, you sat at the kitchen bench which was full of plates; toast, scrambled eggs, two omelettes, baked beans, and an array of your spreads – peanut butter, jam, well…just those two.

   “Wow Hap, this is –“

“Man, you barely have any food in this place. The dogs have more than you,” he said while straining the pot and carefully plating the poached eggs.

 You felt a little blush creep onto your cheeks, but you shrugged it off.

“Hey, don’t criticise the recent kidnappee,” you said and threw your hair from your shoulder.

  Putting his hands up in surrender, Happy smiled.

“Yes, ma’am.”

                                                          - ✦ -

The day felt long yet short at the same time. So much had happened, and eventually you were glad for Happy’s company.

But you didn’t know what you wanted. Actually, that was a lie. You knew exactly what you wanted, you were just scared it wouldn’t come true. That everything had been misconstrued in your mind; the kiss – maybe it was a façade? A way to make the club feel like Jax was still in power. That even a helpless damsel who had just endured trauma would fall into his arms willingly.

But you knew the club; you knew the club brothers. And they knew you.

Surely they didn’t believe that? No…no they couldn’t.

Happy was watching you think these things, and he could see the deliberation cleanly on your face.

   “You good?” He said after ten minutes of silence. The tv sounded in the background but Happy’s attention was solely on you.  

 The question was muffled, you were so deep in your thoughts that you couldn’t comprehend.

“Huh?” You replied. Dragging your eyes to meet Happy’s.

   “Are you okay, Zo?” His question was heavy with concern. No light-heartedness like there was twenty minutes ago.

“I-,” the words were ready on your tongue but your voice ceased to make noise. This felt too … personal. Awkward. It felt exactly like talking to your brother about romance. So, how could you talk to Happy about this?

    “If it’s because of last night; it was handled. If it was … the kiss, then you’re overthinking it.”

“What?” There was a snap in your voice. You felt a tad offended.  

   “The kiss, with Jax.” His face was stone, no humour in it at all.

“How can I not?” You said with furrowed brows and squinted eyes. You felt fire rise in your stomach, a want to aim your anger at someone.

   “It was … Jax was … it meant something. To him, he wouldn’t just do that with anyone. Not after Tara.” Happy explained, with some difficulty. His voice caught on Tara’s name.

There was a beat of silence.

 “But why in front of everyone? Why now?” You said quietly.

Another beat.

  “I-I don’t have the answer. No one can really … get inside Jax’s head right now.” It was an admittance to more than just the situation between you and the man that held the gavel.  

You sat back in your seat and rested your head against the back of the couch. Staring up at the ceiling, you let out a big sigh.

                                                         - ✦ -

When Happy left; around five in the afternoon, you got a message. In all honesty the alert from your phone gave you a freight.

You didn’t have that many contacts, and you mostly got messages from Skeeter. But it wasn’t, it was from Jax.

  ‘We need to talk,’ it read. And your heart dropped to your stomach.

It took you a while to respond. Thirty minutes of deliberating of what to say, and another ten thinking if you should respond at all.

Was now the time? For you maybe not. But for him … it was. You didn’t know this, but Jax needed to mend whatever it was between you. He needed to know where he stood. Because Jax couldn’t stop thinking about you.

  All day he was being nudged on the arm by Tig.

“You good man?” He’d say, blue eyes firmly looking into his Presidents.

   “…yeah,” was all he could reply. Because his romance didn’t seem of concern for the whole club. Funnily though, it was. And it was Chibs who told Jax to message you.

   ‘Okay, when and where?’

You hesitated a second before sending it. Your stomach churned as you waited for his response.

Luckily he didn’t need to deliberate as you, because his response was quick.

   ‘Can I come over in thirty minutes?’

God. The house was a mess. You looked like a mess. You hadn’t cared how Happy saw you (neither did he). At least Happy cleaned up after himself. But you still had to vacuum the dog hair and brush your own, maybe wash your face and put on some deodorant.

                                                          - ✦ -

Thirty minutes went by in a second.

And you heard a knock on the door.

  Then your heart nearly exploded with how fast it was going.

“C-coming,” you called and put down the brush, racing from your bathroom to the front door. You waited a moment, to compose yourself, and then turned the handle.

Even though you knew he was coming, he still took your breath away.

Jax stood before you in a white shirt, his kutte, his baggy jeans and white shoes. His normal clothes. But somehow … he seemed different. Like he dressed just for you.

You could smell his cologne – it was freshly applied, his hair was slicked back and you noted the knife attached to him. You wondered how many times he had used that knife.

   “Hey darlin’,” he said in a soft voice.

“Hello,” you said back in greeting, without a softness to it.

You stepped backward and to the side, motioning for him to come in.

    “Thanks,” he muttered and stepped over the threshold. His shoes wiping on the mat.

You didn’t know the feeling of what this conversation would be, but you knew a drink wouldn’t hurt. 

 So, you walked into the kitchen and brought out a bottle of Rye and two glasses.

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros.  Word Count: 1k Warnings: mentions of dead bodies, drugs...usual sons of anarchy malarchy - you know the drill

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ      

The night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Sure, you’d seen some stuff throughout your job working with Skeeter, and therefore the Sons, but this … this really took the cake.

  “How the fuck am I meant to burn all this within the next two hours?” You snapped, looking at the blond-haired Prince of Charming.

See, most people wouldn’t get away with talking to him like that. Especially after the death of his wife, but what he was asking for was delusion at best.

 Jax considered lighting up a cigarette, one of the only things keeping him sane these past few weeks. But his consideration for you was bigger than you knew.

   “I know it’s asking a lot-“

You cut him off with a sigh. And then the door jingled, and you knew you were about to be surrounded by Sons.

    “How’s it goin’ in ‘ere?” The well-known accent still sent shivers down your spine. Chibs Telford could always make you blush, even if you didn’t feel as attracted to him as … someone else.

  “It’s going absolutely fine,” you grunted, moving to get the phone to call Skeeter. In any other circumstance a person reaching for a phone would set the Sons off, but not with you. Not now, anyhow.

 The first time you interacted with the group of bikers on your own, you had about four different guns aimed at you. But for some reason… for some ungodly reasons, you just. Weren’t. Scared. Not then, and not now.

  “Zo doesn’t think she can do it all tonight,” Jax replied to the Scotsman, his arms folding in front of him.

   “Oh- I did not say that.” He had dangled the bait and you jumped straight for it.

“We’ll double yer usual price lass,” Chibs interjected, knowing the argument that was about to ensue.

Your eyes flicked to Jax and you scowled, “you could’ve started with that.” Pushing the end of call button, you shoved the phone into your back pocket and shook your head.

  “I was getting to it…” he replied, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Nose flaring you said, “bring it around back.”

                                                            ✶ ✶ ✶

 You had gotten used to the stench of the crematorium. Probably not a good thing, but hey, with the pay being as good as this, you really couldn’t complain. Funnily enough, working with the Sons – you thought they’d be horrible. But they had always treated you well (once they trusted you).

Many others couldn’t say the same, but you knew you were always safe when they were around. The men each looked out for you in their own ways. Chibs brought food with him whenever you’d get a call at three in the morning to come to the crematorium.

 Tig’s offering being some sort of drug; Xanax, weed, oxy. He asked if you wanted a dog once.

Happy was usually the one to stay later than the rest, to make sure you locked the place up and got to your car. He’s actually brought you some of his mother’s homemade meals.

 Jax was different though. Always the first there and the first to leave, like being near you was difficult. Especially after Tara’s death. You had no idea but you reminded him of her in many ways. Headstrong. Stubborn. And your hair colour was very similar. It was a punch in the gut to see you. And it wasn’t just because of that. Even when he was married his thoughts drifted to you. It was wrong, he knew that. And that’s why now he felt even more guilty.

  Out in the cold night air, the Scotsman gave you the fat envelope. The carpark was deserted, save for the motorcycles and your own car. That was another thing you had gotten used to, the eeriness of it all. Getting in your car and driving down here in the early hours of the morning. What some would call the witching hours.

   You didn’t believe in the supernatural. Because if you did, then every noise, every moved object and creaking door would give you a heart attack. Most days you worked alone here, Skeeter entrusting you to do his services. He popped in for a few hours every week, and he wasn’t that bad of a boss. Creepy? Yes, but not in a I’m-a-woman-you-make-me-feel-uncomfortable type of way. He just had an air of unearthliness about him.  

Since being the go between with the Sons and Skeeter, you had earnt their trust indefinitely.

 The Sons heaved the bodies onto stretchers and wheeled them in through the back door. The fire had begun to swell and swell, making everyone who came near start to sweat. When Tig and Chibs saw that every piece of evidence was inside, they jumped on their bikes and left. Not before giving you a swift kiss on the cheek.

 Inside, you had on your gear and made sure every piece of … what needed to be incinerated, was. It never got old, watching those hungry flames take their next victim. Eat them up and beg for more. Like a tiger in a zoo, the fire took whatever it could and hissed at whatever came near.

You looked at the clock that hung above the doorway, 4:35am. Your eyes stung, and you blinked a few times but it barely helped. Even with your goggles on, the smoke crept outwards whenever you opened the door.

 Registering the time, you realised they had arrived an hour and thirty-five minutes ago, and a small part of you wanted the time to go over two hours. Just so you could wave it in Jax’s face. Was that cruel? You thought, but you shook your head and turned to close the door on the last body.

   Shucking off your gear, you turned off the lights and locked each room you walked past. You knew Happy would be waiting outside. Grabbing your bag, you walked out the back door and locked that too.

  “And you said it was impossible…” Jax’s voice drawled, with a lit cigarette in his hand.  

You jumped, not expecting the proximity of another human being. Usually, Happy just sat on his bike, or on the bench inside.

  “Good thing I get paid either way,” you retorted, trying to gather yourself from the scare. But you saw the way Jax’s eyes lit up as he looked at you.

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 3k Warnings: swears, talks of death, blood, talks of period blood in particular, someone being shot.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

(Red Right Hand by Arctic Monkeys)

JAX.

The night was heavy with the dread of oncoming death. But whose? That was still undecided.

Guns had been aimed, with triggers ready to be pulled. Even though the meeting was supposed to be weapon-free.

    “So much for reliability and transparency,” Jax uttered. His heart may have been pounding but with adrenaline over fear.

This meeting with a potential partner in Cara-Cara, was deemed somewhat reliable by Bobby. So, hell it was a surprise to find these gentlemen so gun happy. Bobby wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the club. Both Sons knew that, so what the fuck was with these guys.

If it were truly up to Jax, he wouldn’t be looking for another partner, but with Nero desperate to pull out, he had no other choice but to look at other investors.

   And fuck, this guy wasn’t one to wait. This meeting was set for two weeks and now it was suddenly rushed to today.

  Oddly enough, everything had seemed to be alright, until the bald-headed Russian asshole took a joke too far. The girls at Cara-Cara were treated with respect. It was a non-negotiation. Women were constantly mistreated in Charming, Jax had seen it with his own eyes, hell, Gemma and Tara had been assaulted in the past. Jax never wanted that to happen, let alone in a company he owned.

  Chibs’ eyes flickered from his president to the exit, and Jax subtly shook his head. Like fuck he’d let Chibs risk himself. They looked at each other, truly looking and almost in silent communication Jax said, ‘we get out and we get out together.’

   Chibs’ jaw ticked.

  “So, boys. What’s it gonna be?” The Bossman with a shaved head said.

  “I think I’m gonna have to go with … go fuck yourself,” Jax said with a smile. He wanted to rile this fucker up. Was it the right move? Maybe…maybe not. But you never knew when a man would back down – over respect, intimidation, or approval.

ZO.

(Night Creeper by the Blackwater Fever)

You awoke with a knot in your stomach. One that you couldn’t get rid of. No matter what you did. Stretching, hot baths, hot water bottles, and then you saw the blood, and everything made sense.

   Of course, you were in your period, it sucked but it was also … a bit of a positive. You definitely weren’t ready to have children. Not now, not yet.

 As you boiled the kettle for what seemed like the hundredth time, you crouched down and rested your head against the kitchen bench, groaning.

     “Fuck, I feel like I’ve been shot,” you moaned, one hand holding your stomach, rubbing ever so gently. This month was one of the worser ones. Like a pattern, your body either gave you a light easier period or a heavier harder one.

   When your kettle finished boiling, you emptied your hot water bottle and filled it. A few drops missed the opening and landed on your hand.

    “Fuck!” You yelled, already irritated, and nearly gave up. But your stomach lurched again, and you pushed on. “Not fair,” you mumbled, and slumped to the couch, where a bunch of snacks lay ready for you. The tv was flicked on and laid down, curling onto your side.

 You looked at the clock and frowned, usually Jax would call around this time, but there were no notifications on your phone.

JAX.

The big-bellied boss laughed and lowered his guns. As he did so, all of his men followed. The dread was slowly starting to leak from the room. But all the doors and windows were pulled shut, so it was taking its time to leave.

  “I like him,” the man said. His Russian so thick it was comical.  

Winking at Chibs, who came to stand to Jax’s right, he angled his body between the most guns and his president.

The fat Russian continued to speak. A lot of bullshit tumbled from his mouth, but still, Jax and Chibs were on high alert. As they always were.

   That’s how the Sons of Anarchy had survived so long under Jax’s rule, never let your guard down. And never let the other guy see it still up.   

So, they lowered their guns too. But when Jax turned to leave, telling the Russian he would be in touch, the man knew he wasn't going to get the partnership.

And the Russian mobster wasn't used to being denied.

ZO.

(Done All Wrong by the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club)

The afternoon had gone by slowly, as the pain never left. You had already told Skeeter you weren’t coming in, and when he asked why, he was absolutely awkward about it. As if he didn’t have one of the gorier jobs. What was period blood compared to dead bodies?

  Getting up from the couch was difficult, but you did it. You wanted to take your pups for a walk before they had their dinner, and it got too dark.

  Their leashes were tucked in the same spot they always were, and whenever you went near that area, even without the intention of a walk, their tails would wag.

    “Yes, walkies!” You exclaimed, clipping their collars.

But as you walked, you could feel the blood moving with gravity. Only a short walk, you thought and looked down at your two large dogs, their faces full of pure delight.

  Opening and closing the front door, you turned around to lock it, when you felt the presence of someone behind you. Whipping around, you saw a face you really wish wasn’t there.

  Gemma Teller-Morrow, dressed in black jeans, a grey top that showed her chest scar and wearing big black high-heeled boots. Ones you were sure she slept in. You couldn’t envision her in anything else. Her black and blonde hair was perfectly curled and slightly brushed, giving it a voluminous affect. She was a beautiful woman. But intimidation practically leaked from her.

  Both your dogs moved to stand in front of you.

   “Ugh, hi,” you said with an awkward smile. You, on the opposite hand, were wearing the baggiest pants you could find and a jumper, with joggers (and mismatched socks). Hair greasy and pulled in a bun from your face, you felt vulnerable; practically naked, in front of her.

  With pinched lips, she said, “hi,” and the hands that were on her hips moved to cross in front of her.

   You wanted to ask what the fuck she was doing here, but absolutely did not.

“You know Jax is away?” Her voice was almost disinterested, as if she had been forced to be here. But no one was in the car you had located behind your own.

   The boys must be with Wendy then.

“Ugh yeah, I helped him pack.”

      “Hmm, well I haven’t ugh, heard from him.” Now you understood. She thought Jax was here for some reason. And she came looking for him.

   “Neither have I actually,” you said, shifting your weight to one leg. The sun was setting, creating a slowly drifting picture of purple, pink, orange and yellow across the sky.

   “Huh,” she said, moving her hands into her back pockets and clucking her tongue, “thought he might be here.”

  Ding ding, fucking ding. As if you would be that irresponsible – or Jax for that matter. You two were grown-ups and knew how to act. Why was this lady running after her grown-ass son?

  You were doing all you could not to let your thoughts show on your face, so you shifted again. And thankfully, one of your pups whined; easing the tension.

    “Right, you taking ‘em on a walk?” Gemma said, in your mind you instantly replied with ‘fucking duh,’ but only nodded.

  “Mind if I join you?”

JAX.

(Dad's Gonna Kill Me by Richard Thompson)

Getting shot isn't the same feeling for everyone.

Jax hadn't fully felt the bullet in his right hip; he thought it had only grazed the bone.

The gunfire didn’t cease, however, and revealing his wound to Chibs wasn’t going to help. Jax wasn’t sure if the bullet was still inside his body, but thoughts like that weren't helpful right now. All he could focus on was getting the both of them out.

Holed up against the side of the bar, there was barely enough coverage for one man.

   Yelling, “cover meh!” The Scotsman knocked over a few of the bar’s table and chairs. Creating a sort of barricade.

  Even shot, Jax was a great aim. Taking out an arm with each bullet, gave Chibs more time to create their defence.

In a heated moment, Chibs picked up one of the cheap stools and threw it across the room. It landed with a loud smash, as once a glass table now lay in a million pieces.

   “WHAT IS WITH THESE MOTHERFUCKERS!” The fat Russian yelled, his face red, bleating. His blood pressure monitor started beeping; his wife made him go to the doctors to get his weight under control. And that gave the mobster a 24/7 monitor to wear underneath his clothes.

  For a beat the gunshots stopped as the beeping sounded, and the hired guns stopped to check on their boss. He had been fine, and then he watched as the Sons got up and ran.

    And then the Russian stopped being able to breathe. 

Bursting out the door and into the bright daylight, the two men covered their faces and ran toward their bikes, Jax leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

   “Almost free Jackie boy,” Chibs said as he got out his keys.

Doing the same, the blonde Son was about to shove the keys in the ignition when they fell out of his wet, red hand.

    “Fuck,” Jax growled as he bent down, but as he did so, he saw six pairs of black boots coming from the same door they ran from.

   “Jackie, what-“ And then Chibs saw the soaked through shirt, the blood on Jax’s hands and the paleness in his face.

 “FUCK,” he yelled, grabbing onto both sets of keys and jumping behind Jax. Chibs would sacrifice his bike for his president any day. And today was that goddamn day.

     The group of men were nearly upon them, as Chibs fiddled with the keys.

“Fucking put them in,” Jax said with a slight slur. Maybe it was just a bone graze… Jax was thinking and thinking and reached out a hand to touch his side and screamed.

  Punctured.

The word rung in his mind before he could even process it.

   And all the while Chibs had finally turned on the engine and revved. Leaving the men behind in a wall of dust.

   “I got you Jackie, I got you-“ Chib’s voice was barely audible over the sound of the engine. But Jax heard it nonetheless. He always would be with Chibs. But maybe this was something that no one who loved him could save him from.  

ZO.

How could you say no? You couldn’t. That’s why you were now walking side by side with Gemma, your dogs looking behind you every few seconds, keeping an eye on the ‘threat.’

   If you were supposed to say something first, then you had no idea. Your lips were clamped shut, your mind an untuned tv; fuzzy and loud.

You had walked to the end of your block in silence, until Gemma asked, “do you love him?”

   Stunned. You almost choked on your intake of air. It was a miracle that you hadn't tripped over your own feet.

How could you tell her before telling Jax? It felt like a betrayal in a way.

  “Of course, I do.”

The words left your mouth before any other thought could appear.

   The steady crunch of Gemma’s boots on the sidewalk gravel was the only noise for about a minute. Then she said, “you know he had a wife-“

“I know his backstory,” you cut in. Doing your best not to roll your eyes. Was she this far behind? This out of the loop? Should you be insulted or grateful that Jax wasn’t telling his mother about his relationship?

CHIBS.

(You're Not God by Anna Calvi)

The road was long ahead of them, the dirt and rubble kicking up where the wheel’s trekked. There wasn’t a moment for pause, not one second to spare so Chibs could look over his shoulder. Jax was nearly limp in his arms; slumped against him, barely able to keep his balance.

   They hadn’t been gone long, but soon the club would be worried if they didn’t hear anything soon. And Chibs knew Zo, Jax’s Old Lady, would be hanging on, waiting for the phone to ring. Chibs always noticed things like that. Things that the others didn’t.

Men were terrible at keeping in touch with each other, it was the women in their lives that they checked in with. Most men found it overbearing, but really they should be grateful. It made them think, kept them moving and ultimately kept them alive.

   That’s how Chibs felt about the other Old Ladies as well. Especially Tara, who had a lot on her plate, and needed to know if Jax was okay. When he was coming home. It wasn’t the only reason why Chibs would leap in front of a bullet for a brother. Whoever was in this club, was his family. That’s why he would give his life for theirs. Especially when they had more to lose than he.

  No one knew, but he felt like his life wasn’t as important as the others, whose family (or ex-family) was still close to them. The woman he loved and the only daughter he had were on the other side of the world. If he died, it wouldn’t change anything for them.

    And he could be replaced. Easily in the club.

But he’d never say that out loud.

So, like every day, Chibs pushed on, knowing his president’s life depended on him. On his next move.

GEMMA.

(Fight Like Gods by Chelsea Wolfe)

   Gemma was worried to say the least. She hadn’t heard from Jax in a while, and she thought he was over at your place, forgetting his responsibilities.

  The whole ride over to your house, Gemma’s car had been silent except for her constant monologue. (She never used her radio - the presenters were complete morons in her opinion).

   “I’m going to rip her ear’s from her head if he’s there,” her violent promises falling on no ears but her own. Her white-knuckled hands gripped the steering wheel so hard she couldn’t feel them when she pulled up.

   There was a moment where she debated bumping the back of your car, just giving it a little dent. But she was thankful she didn’t when she saw you come out with your dogs.

   Gemma knew Jax wouldn’t be at your place if you were taking your dogs on a walk, especially with a shirt that had a massive stain in it. But she asked you, nonetheless, to see what your face looked like when it was telling the truth.

   Talking over coffee in a café wasn’t really Gemma’s ‘thing,’ she was used to randomly pulling up to people’s houses unannounced. It made it harder for them to turn her away. So, Gemma knew good and well that it was a bit rude to intrude on your dog walk, knowing you wouldn’t – or couldn’t – say no.

   And when she asked if you loved Jax, your face didn’t change; she knew you were telling the truth.

But every so often she could see your face screw up, not knowing that it was the cramps. Well, not until she saw the blood on the back of your pants.

ZO.

(Oui Oui Marie by Chelsea Wolfe - slow + reverb)

 Everything was fine.

Even though you were sweating, your stomach hurt and you felt like your head was going to explode. There was a moment after Gemma said something, that she stopped and grabbed ahold of your arm. Halting you, and your dogs, suddenly, Gemma said it was time to go home.

   Frowning, you gave her an incredulous look, and with nothing for her to give you to cover it up, she thought it was best not to alert you. But damn your stubbornness. You weren’t going to be told what to do.

   “We’re not finished with our walk,” you said, or rather, snapped. Another cramp squeezing your uterus; making your thighs ache and stomach lurch.

“Oh you definitely are,” Gemma said, starting to turn around, expecting you to follow.

    “They aren’t tired yet,” you reasoned, a hand on your hip. Completely unaware that your grey sweatpants were reddening.

  “Just shut up and listen, you’re leaking,” Gemma retorted, the kindness fleeing her instantaneously.

“Well fuck!” You said, trying to turn around and see.

‘Oh’ was all you said as you followed her home.

JAX.

  The Prince of Charming, also known as the Prince of Death, did not receive his latter title because of all the deaths he had endured, but the ones he had ensured.

    This life had promised violence. It had promised death, and he had stayed the course. Even if he tried to leave with Tara and the boys at one point.

  It was death that made him stay in this particular way of life.

And it would be this way of life that caused his death.

  That very thought swirled around Jax’s mind. It was so ironic that he actually found it somewhat humorous. Death and life, life and death. The two always interconnected.

  “Stay with me Jackie boy!” Chibs roared over the rumble of the motorcycle.

The sunset was a reprieve from the jostling of the bike. With each mile gained, less consciousness Jax retained. And he soon found out that not being able to use his core to sit straight, made riding a whole lot less enjoyable.

   All he could think about was the people he loved. His boys, Zo, his mother, and his brothers. What his death would bring. How much grieving there would be; it made him sick to think about it. Or maybe it was the bullet lodged in his side that was making him feel ill.

    A thumping began in his temple, a headache that drained his energy. It must be the adrenaline wearing off, he thought.  

 The bike continued to tear down the road and Jax could feel himself bleeding. He didn’t know if he was bleeding out, or just … casually bleeding.

Not daring to look; in case he fell off the bike and threw Chibs off with him. Jax knew that at this speed, it would end up killing them both. He stayed still. Trying his best to keep his breathing steady and his eyes open.

  And yet, Jax had no idea where Chibs was going or what the Scotsman was doing, only that he trusted him. And that trust was either going to kill him or save him.

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 3.1k Warnings: swears, SMUT no one under 18 read this please, i.e., rough sex

ᵐᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡⁱˢᵗ

Jax decided to drive both of you over to his place, pick the boys up and go to the park. You agreed, because … you didn’t really know what the boys liked to do. Jax found your anxiety a tiny bit humorous, only because you were so riled about it.

    “I mean, what if I say … the wrong thing and they hate me forever? I don’t want to be the evil stepmother!” You said while the two of you got dressed.

 “Babe, they’re not gonna think of you like that. I promise,” he said and gave you a peck on the cheek. Rolling your eyes, you zipped up your boots and went to feed your own two boys. They were waiting patiently at their bowls, both tails wagging when you made their food.

   With Jax in the shower, your mind wandered to all the things that could happen. Fuck, what if one of them gets hurt on my watch? You thought while placing the silver bowls on the ground.

You weren’t expecting things to go well. That’s just how your mind worked sometimes, okay ... all the time. Low expectations meant you couldn’t get hurt. That whatever went wrong was bound to happen anyway. Basically, you were a supporter of Murphy’s Law.

You were already dressed and waiting on Jax. So, you decided to do a bit of tidying up, which turned into cleaning and when Jax came out of the bathroom, he saw you with two gloves on, heavily scrubbing the benches.

   “Babe! It’ll be okay. They’re just kids-“ Jax had your face in his hands as he spoke, so you had nowhere else to look but in his eyes. Eyes that seemed to look straight through you. To see everything you were feeling.

It made your stomach flip. He truly believed his sons would somehow adore you. Just as he did. Oh, the folly of men.

You rode over to Jax's place on his bike and the whole way there you couldn't stop panicking. Children frightened you a little, but what you didn't realise was that Jax could feel your heartbeat through his back.

And at one point, he lightly slapped the side of your thigh. It was his way of trying to get you out of your own mind.

The ride felt shorter than usual and as you hopped off the bike and undid the helmet, you followed Jax up to the house. It was just like any other house. It was middle-class; clean, and well-maintained, even the lawn had been mowed. The mailbox stuck out to you, and you didn’t know why. Maybe it was because of how weird a biker in a gang would have such a normal, everyday, and mundane … thing. It wasn’t rusting or chipping either...unlike yours.

   With one knock to the door, Jax opened it and went inside. With you right behind him, he squeezed your hand once and went to find his boys.

Oh fuck, okay here we go, you thought, looking around the place. Hell, it was clean. Cleaner than your own home. Well, Jax would have hired a cleaner, or at least, Gemma would have. But if you ever moved in with him, would you still keep the cleaner around? Would Gemma still come around as often?

It was these weird thoughts that sometimes kept you up at night. Were they stupid thoughts? Over the top? Were you thinking too far ahead? Calm down, you thought to yourself. And tapped your thigh right where Jax had before.

  Your mind was snapped out of its cage when you heard the sound of heels on tiles. Holding a breath, you saw ...that Wendy wasn’t there. Unbeknownst to you, Jax had had a conversation with her the night before. It wasn’t a fun one either. But he did make things clear, as well as assure Wendy that her boys weren’t being taken from her.

  Gemma stood there with her arms crossed. Was she glowering at you? No, no she was sizing you up. Once again.

   “The way you handled Wendy the other night was pretty badass, Zoe.”

Some people would see that as a compliment but there was something sour in her words.

Before you could reply, Jax came out with two blonde-haired boys.

Abel and Thomas were hesitant as they clung to their father. All three had blonde hair, and the thought made you smile. For a split second, you wondered what coloured hair your baby with Jax would be, but instantly you scolded yourself. Don’t think so far ahead! you thought.

Abel was the easiest one to get along with, all you had to do was ask him about his toys and off he was, running around his house trying to drag you along, showing you all the different rooms and what he used them for.

   “And in that one we do number ones and number twos,” he said brightly while pointing to the toilet.

  “Whew, that’s good to know,” you responded with a laugh. Jax howled with laughter, while carrying Thomas close to his chest. Jax held onto Thomas, who didn’t want to leave his father’s arms. Not because he didn’t like this new stranger, no, he’d been around strangers all the time. It was just that right now he got all his father’s attention. Finally.

   “Isn’t that right, daddy?” Abel said with such innocent eyes.

“Absolutely,” Jax huffed, and scruffed his son’s hair.

   But he wasn’t done. Once Abel got someone’s attention, he had to keep it.

“And this…” he swung open the door, “is my bedroom!” He opened his arm in a ‘ta-da’ kind of way and then ran to his bed and jumped on it.

   “Woah man,” you said. Trying your best to be as interested as possible. And it was interesting to see the little knick-knacks in the toddlers room. It was blue, with shelves full of photos and race cars. And a LOT of miniature toy bikes.

   Jax followed you guys in and took in the picture before him. The three people he loved most in this world. His two beautiful boys. And the woman he’d been waiting for.

  “Hey, you guys wanna go to the park?” Jax said and both the boys screamed “yes!” Even Thomas let his excitement show.

Fuck Murphy’s Law, you thought. The sun was shining, warming everyone’s skin, not a cloud in the sky. The playground was empty except for the four of you, who were currently in a very serious game of tips. Abel was it, and he had to tap the closest person so then they would switch. In a child’s mind it was perfectly logical. But explaining it to Thomas was a bit of a challenge. He was just happy to cling to Jax.

  Whenever you looked over at Thomas, he buried himself further into his father’s chest. Almost covering himself with the kutte. God, if you weren’t seeing a lot of Jax, then these poor boys barely saw him. A pang of guilt hit you in the chest and you felt a little sick. You hadn’t even thought about the boys and what Jax meant to them.

“No, no ah!” You yelled as you ‘ran away’ from Abel (you couldn’t help but go easy on the kids. If it were with other adults … then your competitive nature would send you overboard.)

  Abel’s tanned arm reached out and tugged at your shirt. “Got you! Got you!” He screamed in delight, his little mouth curling in a big smile.

    “Zo is it!” Thomas babbled, giggling near his dad. The first time he acknowledged you. It made you beam. Maybe this was the reason people had kids … for some validation.

Looking at both boys, you curled your fingers, and you did your worst evil laugh. Abel screeched happily, jumping to the upper level, and running to the slide. Jax held Thomas’ hand and slowly ran away from you, hiding between the swings.

    “Ohhh, I’m gonna get you!” You said to Jax, who looked at you with a sly grin.

“I would like to see you try-“ he replied, trying his best to hold in a smile. Being suave wasn’t actually that easy. Especially while playing tips.

  But you took off, and without even moving, Jax let you jump onto his back and down to the ground. Abel and Thomas screamed in pure excitement.

   The little boys piled on top of you two, squealing and giggling, they could barely stay on top because they were so small.

    “We got you Dad!” Abel said, holding onto your back.

“Yeah, we dot you!” Thomas echoed, giving his father a kiss on the face.  He was going to be the sweetest thing on earth. You just knew.

Your things were sitting on the park bench not that far from the playground. But Jax didn’t hear his phone ring. He placed it in your bag and actually forgot about it.

   For once he wanted not to be interrupted, to have time true family time. Because he learnt from his past. And wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again.

  But that meant he missed a call. Well, a few calls actually. Ones that would change the course of club business.

  On the drive back home, you looked at Jax and spelled out “I-C-E-C-R-E-A-M?” He only responded with a deep belly laugh.

   “Yeah, I reckon we can do that.”

By the time the boys arrived home, their faces were covered in icecream and sprinkles. Much to Gemma’s dismay.

   “God, now they’re gonna be running on the roof,” she said with a huff. But you knew it was an act. She loved that the boys were spending time with their father.

   “It’s alright Ma, I’ll clean them up.”

“Yeah I know you will,” she said like a whip. Her hands on her hips as she led the four of you inside. She ran the bath, and although the boys were filthy, they both whined.

   “C’mon, Zo loves baths,” Jax said, adding bubbles and toys to the tub.

“Y-yeah, I do! They’re great!” You said enthusiastically, doing your best to persuade the two little grubs to get clean. They looked like the lost boys from Peter Pan.

  When the tub was full enough, the boys still wouldn’t get in. Both with crossed arms (Thomas just copying his brother), they refused.

     “I bet,” you said with an idea in your head, ”that you’ve never had a bath with your clothes … on.”

And their eyes lit up.

   Gemma rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I mean a bath is a bath right?” You said to Jax, who looked at you with raised brows.

    “I mean … yeah.”

After the boys were cleaned, Gemma was almost adamant that the two of you leave. You could feel the ownership radiating off of her.

  Like leaving a lioness’ den, you got on the bike and Jax took you home. Gemma watched as you two sped off, and when she turned to go back inside, you could have sworn her tail followed.

  When Jax dropped you home, he finally looked at his phone. You could see the concern on his face, but something in you told you to back off. To give him some privacy. Hey, maybe it wasn’t club business for all you knew. Maybe it was a big day for him as well.

Barely giving you a kiss, he waited for you to walk inside and sped off.

The club business had Jax fired up. And when he got to your place, he harshly knocked on the door, then started pacing back and forth.

   “Coming,” you called, slipping on your pajama pants. Reaching the door, you yanked it open and saw a frazzled Jax Teller.

   “Shit,” you said plainly.

“Yeah, shit,” he said darkly.

Moving aside, he stalked in and did not take a seat.

  “Do you want a drink?” You said letting the door click closed.

“I- I don’t know,” he started pacing again, and you realised you were seeing the real Jax. The one that no one else saw. The one who did all his thinking by himself.

   “Yeah, I know what you need,” you said slightly wide-eyed. Half of you was worried for Jax, and the other half was … excited. Excited that your relationship had progressed to letting each other see one’s breakdown.

In the kitchen cabinet sat a heavy glass bottle of brown liquor. It was something that Skeeter had made at home. You tried it before, and one glass was the equivalent to four standard drinks.

Getting out your nicest drinking glass, you put in a few ice cubs and two shots of the liquor. Before closing the lid, you took a swig and scrunched your face in reaction. That shit was strong.

    “Here,” you said and sat down. Finally, he followed your lead.

For some reason, it was only now that he could take a deep breath. When you handed him the glass, Jax’s fingers lingered over your own, needing to feel your touch. It was then that he started to calm down. Down a step, then another.

 Jax drained the glass and looked at you with the hunger of a wild animal. Pure lust in his blue, glowing, eyes. Heat travelled from your face, down your neck and in between your thighs. Fuck.

  Prowling over to you, Jax picked you up with ease and laid you on the carpet floor. Your long hair now a messy crown around your head, the tv became background noise, as Jax became mesmerising in his pursuit of pleasure.  

Biting down on your neck, he claimed you as his. With his hands clutching you tight, moving your top further upwards, he kissed at the exposed flesh. Groaning at your taste. The smell of you turned him on, let alone how you looked, how you walked and talked. The whole of you was like a need for him. Sustenance, nourishment; he needed you.

 It was as if you both had that same thought. Jax needed Zo. And it was a race to have all of you.

With swift movements, he pushed your clothes from your body, grabbed ahold of you, and twisted you around. With your face to the ground, he pushed down your pants and ground against your bare ass.

   “Jax,” you whispered and in response all he did was growl. Fuck, you thought. You weren’t with Prince Charming tonight. He wrapped his hand around your neck and with his lips, pulled on your earlobe.

  Jax let go of you, only to undo his pants, and you started to move. But as quick as lightning, he pushed you back to the floor.

    “Don’t fucking move,” he roared and the heat between your legs turned to slick.  

 In a split second you were completely naked. You could feel the roughness of his beard between your legs, the warmth of his hands rubbing your thighs, his mouth was everywhere. All you could do was lay there, doing your best to slowly arch your ass closer and closer to his cock.

 Tonight Jax was full of aggression, of rage, of … tension. And he needed you. He hadn’t planned on having you face down on the ground, ass in the air. Such a pretty ass, he thought. And slapped it hard.

   “Ah!” You flicked your head towards him and your eyes grew red. Raising an eyebrow, he inclined his head.

  “No?” He grumbled. His voice was lower than usual. Gravelly, hoarse.

“Yes,” you said in a command. And an evil grin spread across his face. Within moments, your ass was red raw and it made your cunt even more sensitive.

    Seeing you in that position made Jax want to touch every part of you. His hands gripped your cheeks and spread them apart. You knew his face was centimetres away from your core because you could feel his hot breath against it.

  If it was any other night you would say something, but all you dared do was whine.

     “Shhhh,” he cooed, swiping his nose against the exposed flesh. Licking your folds, toying with your clit with one of his fingers.

  “You want me to fuck you?” He asked, almost entranced.

“Yes,” you whispered, and tried to move backwards, so his face was flush against you. At that, he laughed. But a hard hand slapped your ass again and you cried out.

    “I know you want me to fuck you…” and then his mouth was sucking on your cunt, his nose gliding up and down. “I know you do…” he murmured against you.

The tension in stomach was tightening and tightening, but you didn’t want to cum without him inside of you.

  “Jax-“ you whined, trying to get his attention. But he hands were firmly planted on your hips, his face completely buried in your ass, his fingers in your pussy, his mouth moving everywhere.

    “I’m gonna-“

“I know,” and then he undid his pants and let his hard cock spring free.

It didn’t start off slowly like it had the first time. No, this time around Jax was rough. He plunged himself into you, thrusting hard; in and out, in and out. The sound of his balls slapping your ass filled the room but you were too hazy to be embarrassed.

  “G-god,” you moaned loudly, letting his body pound into your own. Jax’s body was practically on top of yours, one hand around your throat, and the other around your middle, thrusting into you erratically.

“Fuck.” 

     “Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

    “What was that about.”

“The deal went through babe, I’m sorry – wait I didn’t hurt you did I?” Jax got up from the floor to look you over. Only a few hickies on your neck and breasts. Well, and some on your thighs.

 But you only laughed, a glint in your eye. Having his kneeling body right next to you was a sight to behold. Tanned all over, his hair messed, muscles bulging (may or may not have been flexing). He looked like a god. But to you, he was only a prince. Your prince.

   “I’m fine, Prince Charming, now go get me a blanket, I’m cold.”

“As you wish,” he said and got up, his cock dangling between his legs. You almost gasped. Yes, you were a mature grown woman, but seeing the male form always gave you a little shock. Especially a male form that had been inside you.

“I gotta talk to you about somethin’,” Jax’s voice was heavy and your stomach twisted.

    “…yeah?” You looked up at him and he sighed.

“I have to leave again, not as long as last time though. But I leave tonight.”

  You groaned and flopped back onto the floor. You had only just gotten him back.

“Hey baby,” he said with a smirk on his face, “at least you have somethin’ to masturbate over now.”

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2k Warnings: swears, kidnapping, a lotta LOTTA violence, mentions of blood icon by @thatsness.

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

A gun was pressed to your temple.

You breathed heavily and thought of everything you knew so far. They had Jax on the phone, you were pulled over on the highway without any cars driving by, the van was filled with three other men, one of them your darling date. They all had guns and you were still partially blindfolded… and incredibly tipsy.

Night had found it’s way to you, the stars bright and beaming. It was absolutely beautiful…except you couldn’t notice one bit. You could only feel the cold press of the gun’s mouth to your forehead. Like death itself was giving you a kiss. Whispering promises of your end.

                                                          - ✦ -

Jax put the phone on loud speaker and placed it in the middle of the table. The men had gathered round to listen, each sitting on whatever chair they could find. Or squatting to listen more intently.

 “Am I speaking to Jax Teller?” The voice sounded, while Jax was hanging on the man’s every word, Chibs was trying to decipher noises in the background. There was nothing. No other voices, or sounds. Not even a car driving by. His mind ticked over.

    “Yes, you’re speaking to Jax Teller,” Jax was trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. His arms crossed tightly across his chest, hands bunched into fists. Doing everything physically possible to keep the rage, the pain, the worry, inside.  

 “It was easy you know,” the voice replied, and Jax knew he was about to be taunted – he knew whoever this was, wanted him riled up. But he’d play along, because if this man was talking, then maybe he would let something slip. Even more importantly, it also meant if his attention was on Jax; then it wasn’t on you.

“What was?” Jax said through gritted teeth, his heart thumping wildly.

“Getting her into the van. She was more than happy to come home with another man.”

   He heard your voice then, muffled but audible. “It was not easy getting me into the van!” Jax’s heart soared. Your fight was still there. Even in this fucked up situation. That was good. Really good. Because that meant you had hope.

 But he heard movement and the hiss of words said away from the phone.

“Hey, hey!” Jax yelled, trying to get the attention back on him.

Like a dog to a whistle, the man pressed the phone to his ear and kept talking.

                                                          - ✦ -

Your words had been met with a sharp whack to face. Maybe if you hadn’t had so much to drink, your tongue wouldn’t be as loose. Or maybe it still would. Either way, you weren’t going to let this man spin the wrong story.

  It was absolutely fine for you to want to have sex with another man. Your body is your own. A distraction from Jax was needed. You reminisced on the way your heart had broken. It hadn’t shattered like the poets had wrote, your heart was very much still there. But it was like someone had stabbed you straight through it and left the dagger there.

But now you felt utterly and completely stupid.

 What had been a way to distance yourself from Jax, ended up being the way you were thrown right back in his path.

You listened, your legs tucked underneath you, as the man spoke. You let out a breath when he said he wanted money. So, this wasn’t just to get at Jax. It wasn’t retaliation.

 This was about money.

Tears sprung to your eyes and you nearly cried from relief. But the man standing over you interpreted them differently.

  “She’s crying now, just so you know. Your brave body-burner is crying,” he was mocking the both of you now. But you’d let him think what he wanted. Maybe if he thought you turned meek, you could use it to your advantage. You trusted Jax, but you needed to know that you could escape in somehow.

  “Leave her be,” Jax snarled. God, he wanted to wrap his hands around the guy’s throat and squeeze until no air was left.

Chibs looked at Tig with alarm. How did he know she burned bodies? The guy … had been watching her. Just Zo? Or was it everyone? The guys? The old ladies…The kids? Chibs’ stomach churned but he didn’t let it show. He knew the position he held now. Second in command. Tig would’ve been that, but his love for Clay pushed him down a notch.

  “Fine, fine. I’ll leave her alone, but I want something in return…”

                                                       - ✦ -

Juice’s fingers clicked and clacked on his keyboard, bringing up the coordinates. “It’s about a half hour’s ride.”

 Jax ran a hand through his hair. His mind moving so fast he thought he might faint. This was what he feared, why he had denied you. He wanted to keep you as far away from him as possible, and that meant you’d be safe. Those that were close to him were targets.

He should’ve been smarter, he mentally berated himself. Shouldn’t have left you alone. When Jax let his emotions take over, something shitty always happened. He should’ve learnt by now.

 “Even if we pull all the physical money we had, it still wouldn’t be enough for the fucker’s price,” Tig said, rubbing at his face.

   Happy silently praying to his god, Please protect her. Keep her safe. Keep her from harm. Don’t let them hurt her. It was a strange relationship Happy had with religion. He knew what was good and what was bad, but he never thought what he did was as bad as what others did. And they still had god’s love. So, he must have it as well. And as long as god loved him, then surely the forgiving deity would answer this prayer.

“The banks would be too suspicious; a bunch of biker’s taking out money – they’d alert the coppers,” Chibs said. The guys already knew it, but having Chibs speak it out loud meant it was real.

 For the first time in a long time, the clubhouse was completely silent. Even the croweaters had understood the message and flown away.

After a few beats of a heavy silence, Chibs spoke.

 “…So, we fuckin’ fleece.”

                                                            - ✦ -

Time had passed but you had no idea how much. You were shaking, the temperature dropped at night, especially in the Fall. They hadn’t offered you anything; no water or blanket. Nothing for the bleeding wounds you had from when they forced you into the van.

 Your shaking hadn’t ceased when the crickets stopped chirping, and the guy who was on watch, switched.

You huddled in your leather jacket, thankful that you were wearing jeans and boots. A scorpion had ran by your foot mere minutes ago. You watched it, nearing sober.

It was until the other fuckheads got out of the van that you knew hours had gone by. And shit…well shit was about to go down.

Their guns were pointed at you. Your heart skipped a beat, but you noticed one was still bleeding, and you smirked at him. The middle-aged man looked venomous, and he went to kick you, but his boss stopped him.

  “Uh-uh-uh. No more injuries. The Prince’s orders.”

You balked. He still cares, you thought. You hadn’t consciously thought he’d stopped caring, but you were under the impression that he had. That Jax had removed you from his heart, and now you were only on professional terms. But that was far from the truth. So goddamn far.

 It was still night, possibly around 3-4am and you still couldn’t see past the tree five feet in front of you. Your eyes drifted. It landed on the leader of this operation. The man with the plan.

You really looked at him then. And realised he was wearing a suit, even a tie. A thought popped in your head, of him wearing a bowtie. A red one with white spots. Maybe it was because you were so cold that your senses were dulled, or the liquor hadn’t fully left your system. But you let out a small laugh.

 His gaze turned sharply to you, and you stopped. But the image didn’t go away. This man was a fucking clown. He spoke a big game, but you knew he was way over his head. You could tell by the shine of his shoes.

 A real boss didn’t do the dirty work. That’s what his crew was for.

     So, this guy had to be a newbie, you thought. Still staring at him.

                                                        - ✦ -

The bag of cash felt heavy in Tig’s arms.

 It was a classic black duffle bag; however small, compact, and for good reason.

 They had taken one of the vans; their bikes didn’t offer a lot of protection against bullets. Not like a vehicle did. Chibs, Tig and Jax were in the back, Juice was driving and Happy sat in the passenger seat. Bobby had gone over to Jax’s place, where Gemma was with the boys, just in case. The prospects were at the clubhouse, on watch.

 They didn’t know this guy, and the fact that he knew about your job – well, it put the Sons on edge. It was Chibs’ order, Jax too in his head to think about anything else but getting to you.

  “And you think this is gonna work?” Tig said, going to unzip the bag.

“If you stop fucking trying to open it, yeah. I think it will,” Chibs replied, halting Tig’s hand with his own.

  “You think? Okay great you think, that’s just wonderful…” Tig said quietly, the Scotsman scowled, but ignored him.

“It’s gonna work,” Jax said definitively. There was no other option. No other way out of this. So, it had to work. He would make sure of it.  

                                                          - ✦ -

Approaching you, Jax’s blue eyes landed on you and instantly they teared up. Gone was the master of deceit. The leader of a biker gang so revered. When he saw you there, bleeding and messed up, he broke.

  But the tears of sorrow turned to tears of anger. And Jax remembered who the fuck he was. Where the fuck he was.  

The desert.

  Where no one could hear nor see what was about to happen.

The thugs stood around you, in a semi-circle, two had their weapons aimed at you, and two aimed at the Sons. Chibs had taken the bag from Tig and rearranged the money. “Canna trust you with anythin’,” he’d said as they exited the vehicle.

The crunch underneath their boots was the only thing you could hear. Your heart pumped wildly in your chest.

 They were here. Really here. You had doubted them, you honestly had. Because who were you to them? Barely anyone important. Not family. You hadn’t known the club for long. Was this because of Jax’s feelings? He said he couldn’t go do it. Couldn’t be with you. But here he was, in the middle of nowhere, putting his club in danger. For you.

 “You got the money?” The clown’s posture had changed as the Sons drew closer. His back straightened and his legs spread. Like he was trying to do a Superman pose. You nearly laughed, but knew this was definitely not the time. 

   Your almost lover yawned, and you glared. Hatred flaring. Without the drink, you realised he wasn’t as attractive as you thought. 

Maybe getting kidnapped was a better option than waking up beside him …

  “You get your money, after we get the girl,” Tig spoke.

“Not gonna happen.”

You noticed the lack of weapons. The Sons’ hands were empty. It had been apart of the deal, you knew that. But you thought they would’ve at least brought something…

The men’s concealing skills were much better than you knew. Because each had a gun tucked in the back of their pants.

  And that’s how Jax knew he was up against a wannabe gangster. 

              They hadn’t checked the men for any weapons.

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆  

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2k Warnings: mentions of dead bodies, violence

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑠𝑜𝑛𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑆𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑘.

The men had driven off before Jax reached you, yet you could still feel your heart pumping quickly. You knew this job came with risks, but you were the clean up crew, and didn’t get involved in the politics.  

  “Zo! Zo, you okay?” You were so zoned out that you didn’t hear him. It was like your mind was working overdrive. The thoughts and ‘what ifs’ going around and around in your head – chasing each other. Wondering if now you were … fucked.

  Running over to your door, he opened it and checked your body, gently moving your head side to side; looking for signs of a wound.

  “I’m fine,” you whispered, mentally crawling out of the whirlwind that was currently your mind.

It wasn’t until you looked into Jax’s eyes that your attention fully returned. You looked at his face, seeing the faded freckles, tanned skin and beard stubble. This was closest you had been to him. So close that you could smell the cigarette on his breath. 

The smell brought you back to the other night, outside the crematorium when Jax was waiting for you. He’d told Happy to go home, that he could take it from here. The usual duty of making sure you got home safe always went to Happy, who didn’t mind the late nights. Well, technically the very early mornings.

You had locked the door, turned around and nearly jumped out of your skin. You weren’t expecting it, another person to be so close. Happy always stayed at least 2 arm lengths away from you at all times, even when you walked back to the car. There was no reason for it, you just guessed he was trying to be respectful - or seem like less of a threat. 

 Jax had only just put out his cigarette and he was already smirking. You knew exactly why.

“I finished in time because of my skills, not because of anything else, Teller.”

    “Hey, I didn’t say a goddamn thing.” He shrugged his shoulders, only making your knees go weaker. But gods be damned if you’d let him know how much he effects you.

He was silent as he walked you to his car, the familiar crunch of boots on gravel filled your ears. Crickets chirping in time, and if you looked into the distance, you’d be able to see two wolves in the fields next to the woods.

    As your finger lingered over the unlock button, Jax suddenly said, “Thank you.”

Your cheeks warmed.

“You don’t need to thank me, “ you said and pressed the button. Your car clicked and you reached for the handle, “I get paid, remember.”

Jax chuckled at your response, pulling on his helmet and clipping it underneath his chin.

    “I want to say thank you anyway, this job ain’t easy.”

You knew he was referring to your job, but there was a something else in his voice that told you he meant more. That there was something deeper in his comment. 

Guilt.

  Anger.

      Grief.

You were impressed by how well Jax was acting. Not just with you but with … well everyone. The death of his wife, it would ruin anyone. But it was like Jax had steel armour on at all times. That steel armour wasn’t just for his heart, but for every part of being a person. For his thoughts, his interactions, his opinions.

It was that armour that stopped you from getting deeper.

So, the jokes, the banter, the back and forth … it’s all he could muster up. And maybe that’s all your relationship would be with Jax; teasing and playful. A distraction.  

                                                           - ✦ -

   “Time for clean up?” Was all you said as you saw the other Sons.

“Ugh, yeah, you okay?” Happy replied, concern lacing every area of his tone. You and Happy had created this sibling-like friendship. The scary looking biker acted as your older brother, it sometimes meant him not saying much to you but always making sure you knew he was there. You guessed this was one of those times, except the way his President was acting was putting him on edge. It was putting all the Sons on edge.

  It wasn’t until you heard the Scotsman that things started making sense.

“We were double-crossed, sorry you got swept up in that, sweetheart.”

And then they all moved as one cohesive movement. The Sons got on their bikes, strapped their helmets on, Happy walked over to the driver’s side of the van and hopped in.

It only took a minute to reach the warehouse that was used as the meet-up. But what you saw made you gasp.

 You counted nine men, each laying in different positions. Blood soaked and lifeless. You had seen horrors, you had seen crime scenes, hell you had even listened to the most grizzly podcasts. Maybe it was because of before; your heart still pumping in your chest. 

So, your shock turned to anger, not at the reasons why these men were dead but the blatant lie you had been told. As each member arrived, your anger grew and grew.

   “A few men-“ you said, getting out of the car and slamming the door. “I was told, a few men.”

“Look sweetheart, if you can’t handle-“ Jax started to say, looking at you through his black sunglasses. A similar pair were pushed upwards on your head, keeping your hair out of your face.

   “I can handle the dead fucking bodies. But I wasn’t told how fucking many there would be!” Your hands reflected your speech; animated, emphasising your words. “But I’m in this now. So, you’ll stop calling me sweetheart. My name is Zo. And you won’t leave out fucking details when I ask about them.”  

The words came out as fierce as fire raging through a forest. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and listened. No one dared whistle, nor make any sort of movement (or comment).

   Funnily enough it was Juice who spoke first, “she’s right. We’ve trusted her with everything so far.” The core Sons nodded in agreement while Jax rolled his eyes.

He walked up the dried grassy plane, kicking dirt behind him with each step.

  Jax’s voice was low, gravelly. His accent so prevalent as he spoke, “once you agree to this, there’s no turning back. You’re apart of this now.”

It took three heartbeats for you to respond. His gaze not leaving your own.

  “I’m a part of this.”

                                                            - ✦ -

With the amount of Sons present, it didn’t take long to hoist the bodies into the van and drive off. Happy was silent, one hand on the wheel and the other flicking through radio stations. You lit up a cigarette, taking a drag every time Happy scoffed and turn over the channel.

  “They talk so much shit,” he complained, settling on a station that had just finished playing a Johnny Cash song.

“Who? The Sons or the radio presenters?” You said while blowing the smoke from the corner of your mouth. The window was down – just a crack; it wasn’t allowed down anymore than that. Wouldn’t want to attract too much attention in traffic. Even if you did take the backroads.

     “I meant these radio shitheads, but Tig could talk the ear off of a deaf guy.”

You scoffed but didn’t disagree.

There was a beat of heavy silence. Unsaid words lingering in the air – from both of you.

 Funnily enough, it was Happy who cracked first.

 “You mean it? You really want to be apart of the club? Because that’s what this means. Doing more jobs, being told intel.”

 You took another drag, a big breathe in and let the smoke gather before blowing it out.

       “I guess so.”

 And then something switched in Happy that caught you off guard. He hardened. His tone going an octave deeper, harsher.

  “There’s no guessing, Zo. You’re either in or you’re out. Skeeter has ties to the club but he doesn’t ask for information. He just lets things be. You can still do that, but something tells me you ain’t gonna.”

Y ou didn’t expect such a big brother speech from Happy. Yes, you had that type of relationship, but he was never harsh with you.

  “Okay maybe I do want to get deeper into the club? Why is everyone trying to push me out? I don’t have family out here, I’ve been on my own for years. I work in a fucking crematorium for fucksake.”

 You threw the cigarette out the window and wound it back up. The anger was still palpable and Happy was not helping.

 You hadn’t opened up about your family in … years. Not to Skeeter, not to any of the Sons. You only said they lived out of state and that was the end of it. You had your dogs and that was enough for you. But lately you wanted more. You wanted someone … more.

                                                          - ✦ -

The drive back to the crematorium was silent. Even the radio was switched off after five minutes. Nothing good was being played anyway.

 What you didn’t expect, was to see a particular Harley sitting in the parking lot. It’s rider leaning against it, taking slow draws out of his cigarette.

      “Didn’t think Jax would be here,” Happy said, parking and pulling up the handbrake.

 “Me either,” was all you said before jumping out of the passenger seat and taking out your keys. Practically ignoring the President of the club, you unlocked the garage doors and pulled them upwards.

 You couldn’t hear what they were saying to each other, and pretended as though you didn’t care. Even though inside you were desperate to hear the conversation. In a manner of moments you heard your name being called and you moved out of the way to let the van back up into the garage.

    “Yep, yep, a little further,” Happy was good enough to direct Jax so you left them and unlocked the doors to the incinerator. Looking around you saw everything in its place, Skeet must’ve been in already. He likes keeping everything ‘proper’, not that you don’t, but he takes it to a new level.

 You wheeled out the stretchers, and watched as Happy opened the doors to the back of the van.

  “I thought the President of the Sons of Anarchy would have more important things to do,” you said to Jax, pulling the body onto the stretcher.

 A side of his mouth quirked upwards, “just getting back to my roots, you know. Can never forget where you started out.”

  “At the bottom?” You replied, lumping another body onto the stretcher.

 “Doesn’t feel like the bottom when it’s with you.” Like a leak, Jax had let the words slip from his mouth. ‘It was simple flirting, nothing more,’ you told yourself. Willing your cheeks not to go red. Maybe he’d think the blush was from the physicality of what you were doing.

  “I’m gonna take these guys inside…” Happy trailed off, moving as quick as he could  

(𝐿𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑡𝑜 𝑂𝑛𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝐻𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑦 𝑇𝑎𝑚𝑒 𝐼𝑚𝑝𝑎𝑙𝑎 𝑟𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑤. 𝐴𝑙𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑙𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑛𝑠𝑓𝑤-𝑛𝑒𝑠𝑠)

 Jax’s mind was a mess of filthy thoughts and desired actions. He wanted you so badly. Even watching you now, with your hair barely out of your face, sweat gleaming off your forehead. He thought of what it would be like to be the reason you were sweating. To be the reason you were so out of breath. His mind was so engrossed in … you, that he didn’t hear what you were saying. The only thing he was focused on was your body; the tinge of red on your cheeks; the tattoo on your arm.

    “Jax!” The urgency in your voice brought him out of his trance.

 “Yeah,” he looked into your hazel eyes and followed your line of sight. A car and four bikes were heading up the driveway. And you knew exactly where you had seen that car before.

 Everything happened so quickly.

One moment it was fine and then everything went to shit.

  “Happy!” Jax called out in his gruff voice, his phone was out in a second and he was calling Chibs.

“They must have followed us here,” you said in a slight whisper.

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆  

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐕𝐄.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2k Warnings: swears

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

Two weeks had gone by, and you weren’t sure where you stood with Jax.

   He had offered Skeeter two weeks’ worth of pay so you could take some time off; something that you knew nothing about. Skeeter had portrayed it as “keeping his employees mentally stable.” But you could smell something was off about it. Especially since it was paid time off, something that had never happened with your boss before.

    It took practically an intervention with Tig, Happy and Chibs to get you to stay at home. To make sure the trauma didn’t dig itself deeper into your psyche.

 That first week had been awful. In order to move forward you had to process what had happened. Your mental fortitude was strong, your past made it so. But still, this was what Jax was talking about. The horrors that could happen at any moment. 

  You did have help though. Barely left alone, Happy was stationed outside your door during night, taking you to your shifts and escorting you come. During the day Tig would come by and see if everything was alright. And if the other’s had time, they would pop in as well.

 Jax had come by a few times. Not for long, and not with many words either. You had no idea what to say to each other. That passion you had for one another still felt hot between you.

 It was in that second week that you had made up your mind.

This was it; this was going to be your life. The Club. And you knew you had to tell Jax, let him know your decision in person. For some reason, it felt right. 

                                                          - ✦ -

The weather was warmer than usual this morning as you got out of your car and walked into Teller Morrow mechanics. You weren’t completely sure Jax would be there, but it wouldn’t be a wasted journey; your car could always use a looking to.

   You had just gotten out of your car when you saw them.

Wendy, with her long beautiful blonde hair, wearing heeled boots and tight jeans. She looked like every man’s dream. In each hand she held one of Jax’s sons. Blonde hair and tanned skin, they were taking after their father. There was a pang in your chest. And a thought popped up in your mind – motherhood. It was an outlandish notion, but your mind had found its way there anyhow.

  Could you be a stepmother? If … by any sort of chance, you and Jax got together. Would you be able to step into that role; as mother?

(Play Nancy From Now On by Father John Misty)

Your thoughts were ripped from your brain by a heartbreaking sight. Jax held Wendy close. It was an intimate embrace, and you knew about their history, but when he pulled back and kissed her cheek... It felt like a punch to the gut. Closeness to another woman shouldn’t affect you like this. He was... well, he was your boss! For god sake you weren’t supposed to be feeling like this.

 But escaping was too late now, Gemma had been watching you from the office window and as soon as you made a move to leave, she called you over.

    Shit. You thought, trying not to let your emotions show on your face.

“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” she called from underneath the large Teller Morrow sign. You stood in the carpark; feeling like a deer in headlights.

  And yet, you never ran from a fight, a confrontation or in this case … the devil herself.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you slammed the door behind you and walked over to Gemma.

                                                       - ✦ -

All you heard were boots on gravel, even as Jax greeted you. Something in you wanted to curse him out, to growl hatred words at him; jealousy was an ugly thing. But you also felt like he didn’t really do anything wrong. But looking at them together, when you had all these confusing feelings … it hurt more than it should.

 You smiled down at each of Jax’s boys. Their innocent eyes looking up at you with curiosity and intimidation. 

   Wendy waved goodbye just as you reached them. You could have sworn she flicked her hair behind her shoulder and swayed her hips as she walked away. 

 Trying to focus on something else, you crouched down, and offered your hand to both boys. 

“Well hi!” You said cheerfully, letting them know you weren’t someone to fear.

Thomas just hid behind Jax’s leg, clinging to his father’s hand. Abel on the other hand, gladly accepted yours and proudly said his name.

  “Woah,” you let your features and words turn somewhat animated, “what a cool name!”

Abel laughed and his eyes lit up. He leaned from side to side and giggled whenever your eyes met. 

   “Great, now I think he’s falling for you,” Jax remarked as he looked down at his star-struck son. You didn’t even look up at Jax.

Thomas peaked from a pant leg but once he saw you looking back, he quickly moved out of sight once again.

  “You must be the infamous Zoe__ …” Gemma trailed off, waiting for you to fill in your last name.

Smiling you replied, “just Zoe, mostly go by Zo.” You extended your hand and Gemma shook it. You could feel the cold metal of her wedding ring, and the light indentation of her nails.

                                                         - ✦ -

Gemma led the boys over to the play equipment, within minutes there were shrieks of laughter and “higher! Higher grandma!” As Gemma pushed each boy on the swing set.

Jax’s hands were in his pockets, and when he looked at you, there was something like hope in his eyes.

Moving a hand to rub behind his neck, he said “You wanna stay a while? I got some free time.”

  You hesitated, completely forgetting why you were actually here, “Uh – I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”

“Why is that?” His eyebrows furrowed together.

    “I don’t think Wendy would be too happy about it.”

“Wendy? The hell has she got to do with this?”

    You sighed and looked for any other place than him. Any other place than those eyes, because they felt like some place you hadn’t felt in a while. Those eyes felt like home.

 “Hey,” Jax reached for your hand, and you nearly let him take it. But a familiar voice rang out through the carpark.

Turning your attention to it, you found Tig, who came out of the mechanics with a dirty rag over his shoulder.

  “Well look what the cat dragged in,” the playfulness in his voice lightened the air that surrounded you and Jax.

When you replied, your voice changed; light-heartedness had found its way back in. Or maybe you were just a damn good actress.

  “Hey Tig, can you uh, look at my car for me?”

With an enthusiastic nod, he realised too late that he had interrupted something serious. If you were a mind reader, you would hear, ‘Fuck you Tig, and fuck your big mouth, dumbass!’ But all you got was a lopsided grin and a man eager to get away from Jax. It was as if  Hades himself was sat on a child’s plastic chair, staring at both of you from afar.

As you walked over to your car, Tig mumbled, “the fuck you say to him?”

 Without glancing at him, you pulled your keys from your pocket and handed them over, “not much.”

Jumping in the driver’s seat, you stood back and watched as Tig parked your car in the empty slot inside. You slowly walked over, basking in the Californian sun. The pavement seemed to radiant even more heat, because you found yourself walking over to the shade.

   “Ugh, Zo-“ Tig called out.

You walked over, not looking over at Jax, whose eyes bored into you. For a moment he swore you were Tara. Your long brown hair with that red undertone, the way you dressed, except for the all black clothing. It was just a glimpse of a memory, one that wasn’t hard to remember.  

 Reaching Tig, you asked what the damage was.  

     “All I can say is, it’s gonna take a few days.”  

“Perfect,” you replied, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head.

                                                           - ✦ -

There had been many offers to drive you back home, but ultimately Jax won out. You didn’t think he would’ve wanted to be anywhere near you right now, but for some reason…that wasn’t the case. And you still needed to tell him your decision.

  Gemma took the boys back to Jax’s place, where they’d be waiting for him to get home. They waved by to their dad from the swing set, their happiness a godsend since Tara passed.

Getting on the back of Jax’s Harley felt completely natural. Flinging a leg over, clipping on the helmet and hugging his waist all felt so normal. Although, you couldn’t stop the blush that you grew on your cheeks. Especially when Chibs winked at you as Jax reversed.

The ride had felt too short. You wanted it to go on and on, and as cliché as it sounds; you wanted to ride off into the sunset. It happened, didn’t it? Two people were able to fall in love and leave all their worries behind? Well, that’s what the fairytales told you. And surely they weren’t all lies?

 But your house was nearing; behind slanted trees, there was a stone pathway that ascended towards your door. You thought Jax was just going to wait until you reached the front door and drive off, but the second he killed the engine, you knew he was coming in.

 You left the front door open and turned on the kettle, knowing this was going to be … more than an odd conversation. Plus, you needed something to do with your hands.

As if he lived there too, Jax walked straight in and closed the door behind him.

   “Coffee or tea?” You called from the kitchen, trying to find the teabags.

“Uh, neither,” he said from the loungeroom, not knowing if he should sit down.

      “Beer then?”

“That, I’ll take.”

 You opened your fridge and took out two bottles, popped them and handed one to Jax. You could hear one of your dogs scratching at the back door, and you knew exactly which it was.

   Before sitting down, you went over and slid open the back door. Jango burst in like a rocket, his tail wagging back and forth. Angus, your Doberman, was much more graceful. The pair followed you back into the loungeroom, where Jax had taken a seat on the far corner.

    “So…” you said, sitting down. Both dogs were at your feet, waiting to be invited onto the couch.

“So-“ Jax said and took a swig of his drink. You did the same, and knew you were going to have to speak first.

   “I’m in. I’m fully in.” You said almost as an outburst.

Well, an outburst it was, because Jax was taken back.

   “The Club, I mean. I’m fully aware of the risks and I want to be involved.”

He nodded slowly, eyes closing for split second before shaking his head. “I knew you would.”

You weren’t 100% sure what his reaction was going to be. Your stomach was churning as you watched him take another big gulp. Would he get angry? Just get up and walk out?

 Without warning, he got up from his seat and placed his bottle on the nearest counter. You knew words were forming, there was something he needed to say. But he couldn’t find the right way to say it. Putting one hand in his pocket, and flaring his nose, he finally got the words out. 

  “…Why, were you upset with me and Wendy?”

You blanched, not thinking this was going to be his response. 

 “I-,” your mind went through so many different options of what could be said, but you were already looking into those eyes. You were looking at home.

  “I was jealous.”

He took a moment to process it. To know that his feelings weren’t unrequited.

 And somehow you were both standing now; he was looking in your eyes just as intently.

The movement towards one another was easy, and when Jax extended his hand, you accepted it.

 You moved closer, and his lips were inches from touching your own. Inches away from feeling the physical contact of the Prince of Death.

 His other hand stroked the hair from your face, and he dropped his eyes to look at your lips. Heart racing, he shook his head and stepped back. 

  “I’ve lost too much; I don’t know if I can do that again.”

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐗.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: swears, kidnapping, a lotta violence

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

Jax left without another word, from either of you.

It felt like your heart had unlocked from your chest and fell through your body, down 

    down 

        down it went. 

Falling through the floor, through the earth and into eternity.  

   Stupid. You felt so stupid, and … foolish.

When he left, the door banged shut. But you barely registered it. Only that the dogs were now whining at the front door, confused and hungry. However, your mind was elsewhere. A myriad of questions fighting for your attention. But one stood out amongst the rest:

 What just happened? Had he felt the same?

A slave to your thoughts, it was lucky that there was a seat behind you because your knees gave out. Sitting there in silence, you still felt the warmth of his hand on your cheek. The hot breath that tingled your face. A mix of beer and cigarettes. You had been so close that you were able to smell the leather of his kutte. The faded freckles over the bridge of his nose, see the stubble on his face.

Time ticked by but you weren’t a woman of inaction. Sitting there wasn’t going to help anything. It wasn’t going to solve, nor heal.

 Getting up, you fed your two dogs and grabbed your keys, Jax be damned.

                                                            - ✦ -

The closest bar wasn’t that much of a drag, but you knew there were better ones in Charming (only slightly). Yet you couldn’t be bothered to drive too far, you wanted somewhere close by. Somewhere you could possibly walk home from …

 The door had the words ‘Bar’ written across it in big white paint, and you pushed it open. The stench of liquor filled your nostrils and as soon as the door swung shut behind you, you were enveloped in darkness. There was barely any light. Not even a window to the outside. It felt like another planet.

Sitting down at the counter, you heard the music turn up a little. Whoever was choosing the playlist had a love for 80s rock, specifically Metallica.

You’d heard Enter Sandman about three times in the hour you had been there. With three glasses of rye and ginger down, the grimy bar started to seem a whole lot more appealing. The alcohol was starting to do its job; the trickle of warmth and giddiness was entering your system.

Good, you thought. One of your legs now dangling from the chair.

  “Another?” asked the old bartender. With his short grey beard and matching hair, he seemed like somebodies grandfather. With each drink he had given you water and slid over the peanuts for you to munch on.

  What were you doing here? The thought entered your mind as you swung around and scanned the bar. The dimmed lights made it seem like night, and whenever someone entered or left, the sun stunned you.

Still lost in your thoughts, you didn’t feel the presence beside you. The young handsome man leant his arms on the bench, still standing and peered at you. He wore all black, even down to his boots; they were worn in but cleaned as best as they could be.

  “Hey,” his voice was loud enough just to be heard over the sound of Enter Sandman – being played for the fourth time.

Balking, you swivelled in your chair to face him, instantly feeling roused.

“Hi,” you leaned against the bar and signalled for another drink. Five minutes later, the drink appeared next to your hand – with a fresh bottle of water. Looking into your eyes, the old man didn’t say anything but you heard him loud and clear. Be careful.

  “You uh, here by yourself?” One of the man’s eyebrow raised as he turned his body completely, to face you. There were multiple rings on his fingers as he interlaced them.

Confidence on the up, you slowly moved your head to one side and let a slow smile form on your face.

 “Sure am,” you felt like a black widow. A spider waiting for her meal. Or a siren, waiting on the shoreline for a sailor.

Now you knew why you were here. You had to forget who had broken your heart and why he had done so.

The man smiled back, understanding flashing in his eyes. You picked up your drink and downed it in one.

  All the man did was cock his head toward the door and you nodded. 

A prickle formed on the back of your neck, but you ignored it, put it down as a chill from the air conditioning. You knew what you wanted, there was no harm in this…right? It was fine. Utterly and completely fine.

                                                          - ✦ -

There hadn’t been any Sons stationed to look after you; there hadn’t been an order since you weren’t working. The Sons had been visiting anyway, so there was no need for one.

However, Happy had been on his way back from a run and saw the bar flash by. He’d recognised your car and instantly put his blinder on to enter the parking lot. 

Pulling up beside your car, he unclipped his helmet and let it hang on the bike.

 Happy considered going inside, until he heard the screaming.

                                                           - ✦ -

Even before Jax got the call, he knew something was wrong. Maybe it was his decision to leave to leave you, but whatever the reason, unease had followed him home.

His mobile rang just as he tucked Abel into bed. The little boy had fallen asleep on his father’s shoulder, a kid’s movie playing on the tv. Thomas was on one side of Jax. Their little heads resting against their father’s bare arms.

Gemma sat on the chair to Jax’s left, the television lights reflecting on her black heels. Usually, Wendy was there morning to night, day after day. She had stepped into the role of mother with ease. Well… from the outside it seemed so. Inside she was in pain. Not just because she was running on limited sleep, but because now she knew what Tara had experienced.

The bond her biological son had with her would no longer grow. And it was her turn to raise another woman’s child. The irony of it had felt like a stab to the heart.

  “Wait, wait, she’s what?” Jax couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Happy’s voice on the other end was rushed, worried. 

Concern spread throughout Jax like an electric shock. He felt sick. This was the exact reason why he had refused you. Even though he wanted you so badly; wanted to choose you. 

    But he knew something like this would happen. God, you hadn’t even goddamned kissed and they had taken you.

                                                        - ✦ -

“What are you doing?” Your heart was thumping, hammering, pounding. What had seemed like a gentleman turned out to be a guy from another club. Four members had pulled you into the van.

You had fought; kicked, punched, bit, elbowed. A few times you had nearly gotten away. But it was a good thing they had four guys, because you could’ve taken on three.

  “Why are you doing this!” You questioned again, their faces uncovered, and kuttes’ on.

“Money,” one guy said, and another told him to shut up.

   “I don’t have any money-“ you countered, doing your best to slowly undo your binds. They had tied your hands and feet but left you without a blindfold or a gag. 

“Not your money,” the same guy repeated. This time he got a whack from the same guy who told him to shut up.

Idiots. Both you and the men were idiots, you thought cruelly. Silently beating yourself up for being in this situation. Although, unbeknownst to you, this was going to happen no matter where you were. 

A target was on your back as soon as you were seen at the clubhouse.

     A man neither you nor the club knew, had been gathering intel on the Sons of Anarchy. And Jax was his main target.

His sons weren’t easy to get to, since they were protected 24/7. Gemma and Wendy were by their sides when they weren’t in school. Prospects trailing them, most of the time too.

The Sons were always packing heat, so it was too unpredictable to target them.

 So, that left you. A single woman, with no family or close friends, who had grown close to Jax during these rough times. A perfect target. Especially since you were on your own a lot.

And it was just too perfect; you driving yourself to this bar on the side of the highway. No regulars, only random members of public who wouldn’t remember you nor the man you left with.

  “No one I know has money. Please, just let me go-“ You said through gritted teeth, fear and irritation clawing their way through you.

          “Mmmm, but Jax Teller does.”

                                                         - ✦ -

“And you saw her get in the van?” Jax was already slipping on his boots, grabbing his holster, and walking out the front door. His mind wasn’t clear nor was it foggy. It was somewhere else, high above him, making decisions even before he had a chance to think.

“Jax? What’s going on?” Gemma called from the doorway; her arms folded tightly against her chest.

    “Just look after the boys and lock everything. Don’t open the door to anyone you don’t know.“ If Jax hadn’t sounded so worried, she would have said “okay dad,” but she saw true fear in her son.

There was a rumble of a bike and Jax sped away. He was headed to the clubhouse knowing the rest of the guys would be there. Happy would have called them after Jax. He’d need them for this. And they’d want to know what was going on.

    You were connected to them now, all of them. You may not wear a kutte, but you’ve done things that have risked yourself. All for the club. And that truly meant something to these men.

                                                           - ✦ -

“I’ve got nothing to do with Jax,” you almost spat the words. An anger that you couldn’t understand starting to grow.

  “We’ve got information that says otherwise, sweetheart.”

The man that had led you from the bar piped up, and you scowled. 

   “Fuck you,” the words were a snarl. And you so badly wanted to scrape your nails down his smirking face.

  “You certainly wanted to,” he replied, giving you a sly wink. Full of disgust, you kicked the seat in front of you as hard as you could.

 “Do that again and I’ll take a finger,” the driver said calmly. He hadn’t said anything this entire time. His eyes never leaving the road.

    “Then take a fucking finger,” you replied darkly, doing your best to kick and punch with your bound limbs. With your fingers free, you lunged at the man closest to you, opening your arms to catch his head between the open space and squeezed his neck with your still bound hands.

  You dug your fingers into the man’s eyes, knowing you weren’t going down without a goddamn fucking fight. 

 “FUCK!” One guy yelled, scrambling to rescue your own hostage.

“HOW IS SHE DOING THAT?” Another spluttered, stunned at first then moved. But the van came to a sudden halt and everyone lurched forward. 

  The man you were suffocating as well as blinding, accidentally hit your chin with his head due to the momentum. Luckily chins have stronger bones then the top of one’s head, and the guy screeched louder.

  “Out! Now!” The driver bellowed. He unclipped his seat belt, walked around the car and slid open the van.

Everyone was quiet. Obviously confused, but no more than you. Was he letting you go? Hope filled your chest until he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you from the van.

   “It’s happening. Now.” Was all he said before pulling out a phone and dialling.

                                                        - ✦ -

Jax had pulled into the garage’s lot, jogging across the concrete, he felt the desperation almost leaking from him. Without even grasping the door handle, the door swung open to reveal the Sons inside.

  “Any word?” Chibs said, letting Jax walk in before closing the door.

“No,” Jax replied, out of breath. He couldn’t sit down. But his legs felt like jelly. Tig’s leg was bouncing, his eyes squeezed shut. 

   Plan. They needed a plan. All Happy had saw was you being dragged into a black van and it driving off. Before he got on his bike, he tried to look for the number plates but there weren’t any. That’s when he called Jax. 

Jax wiped his forehead and then placed his phone on the counter. 

      His phone rang instantly. 

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 2k Warnings: mentions of dead bodies, description of violence - against established characters and oc. 

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        

“Hands up, weapons on the floor.” The voice was deep, commanding.

 The dark-haired man wore a grey suit, a navy tie, and newly shined black shoes. The three other men, who stood behind you, surrounding both you and Jax, had guns in hand, and wore similar attire. If you weren’t in this situation, you would’ve thought they were accountants.

 In the dimly lit garage, the hairs on your arms rose. But you weren’t going to show any fear. Blinking once, slowly, you swallowed and looked the gangster in the eyes. Slowly raising your hands, you didn’t bother lifting your leg pants and taking the knife from your boot. They could find it on their own. Even if that was a bad decision. You didn’t think it mattered; you were in deep shit anyway.

 Usually you’d have your firearm, on you or near you, but for some reason you had left it in the car. Where your bag was…and your phone. The keys were in your back pocket, but it wasn’t a realistic plan to try and retrieve it. Even if the men let you go anywhere near your car, they wouldn’t dare let you in it. So, you did all you could do, you held onto the hope that the Club would get here in time. And you held onto that hope like you were hanging from a goddamn rope.

Jax, who you knew was pissed, threw his gun on the ground. The closest man kicked it out of reach. Tonight, Jax’s usual white sneakers had been replaced by boots, the kind that biker’s usually wore. The difference between the two men’s shoes was apparent. You couldn’t help but notice. Where Jax’s was worn in, scuffed, and scratched, the other man’s was smooth, spotless…unblemished.

 The next command came in the same tone as the first, “hands behind your head.” Reality kicked in and you felt your breathing hitch. What’s happening, what’s happening, what’s happening. You couldn’t help yourself; you knew what would ground you.

 So, you stole a glance at Jax; he did the same.

His eyes were pleading, apologetic, protective. The knot in your stomach loosened a little. He nodded, only once, and you felt as if you could breathe again.

You complied and the both of you interlocked your hands behind your head and waited for your next order. But no order came, only the ramblings of a grieving man.

    “You killed our men, my brothers. The men I had sworn in myself-” blocking out his monologue, you placed the man; the one from the car. He had been in the backseat. Maybe he didn’t know you were the one in the other car? Did it matter? Were you going to experience everything the same anyway? You could feel yourself getting lost in your thoughts but then there was quick and violent movement.

   They were on Jax like flies to shit, ripping up his shirt and finding a second gun, and the knife that hung on his pants. One guy backhanded him across the face.

You flinched, catching the yelp in your throat before it could jump out. It was as if you could feel his pain. As if your cheek stung as well.

  However, you didn’t want to give these men leverage. If they knew you cared for Jax, if they knew how much you cared for him, they would wave it above your head and use it against you.

  So, you did the best you could to steel your face. Your eyes focused on the hinges of the garage door, and you let your mind wander into how old they must be. Because you knew that if you looked at Jax, you would be on your knees, begging them not to hurt him. So on you stared. Thinking of how dirty the garage looked, how much dust had collected.

        But he sensed it. The lack of movement, the stupid goddamn gangster sensed that you had gone still. That was what caught his eye. The bare movement of your chest, the calmness in which you outwardly held yourself.

  “And you, who are you to him?” Begrudgingly, you met his gaze; brown eyes staring into your hazel ones. You made sure to give him the coldest glare you had ever given anyone.

“Employee,” you said in a stern, icy tone.

   “What are you employed for? Sucking di-“

“HEY, you watch your fucking mouth,” Jax interrupted, spitting the words. It earned him a swift fist to the gut, sending him to his knees.

 “Don’t!” The word slipped out. You didn’t know which gangster you were talking to. The one with the gun in his hand or the one on the floor.

“Don’t? Don’t? A woman,” he walked over to you and grabbed hold of your hair. Your stomach sank as he yanked backwards, “does not tell me what to do.”

   He was face to face with you now, and you could see the wrinkles on his tanned face. He didn’t seem old, but up close, he aged about ten years.

 Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jax move onto his knees and try to crawl to you. The other men held him back, but there was a vicious look in his eyes and you couldn’t help but let a tear slip.

 Seeing that made Jax bark in anguish, “LET HER GO!”

The grip didn’t loosen, and your head started to throb. You could feel the cold press of the gun underneath your chin, and you couldn’t move. But like a rabid dog, you snarled. Thinking of your dogs at home and how they growled when danger was near, you started to emulate them. Later on, you would find out that it was a way to handle what was going on.  

 You didn’t remember actively deciding to act like your Dobermann, but you remembered the change in your demeanour. You back straightened, a smirk slipped onto your lips, and your eyes darkened. It was like you couldn’t feel the fingers tightly gripping your hair. But the knife in your boot felt heavy and you instantly thought, ‘fuck it.’

 Lunging forward you bit down hard on the man’s nose and pulled backward. The fingers slid from your hair, and you reached for your knife. The movements were quick, but also very unexpected, as the other men had no idea what to do.

 Adrenaline was a kind friend in those moments of chaos. While the leader was bent over holding his nose, his men ran to his aid and you slashed upward, not knowing where you hit. Yet you heard a yell of pain.

Jax lunged toward the gun and in that same moment, Happy came into the garage shooting the targets farthest from you. Without a mechanical weapon, you knew that you would do more harm than good, so you moved to the side and watched as the Sons truly let loose some anarchy.

  Lady luck was on your side that night, because just as the events unfolded inside, the Club had arrived to apprehend the men outside. With guns to their heads, the men fumbled into the garage, and were met with the dead bodies of their comrades.

When the threat was gone, and the approaching promise of death had disappeared, you crumbled. Not caring who saw, you slumped to the floor and let your head drop. Tears fell from your eyes and snot ran from your nose, and still, you did not care.

 But none of the Sons judged you.

      Not a single one thought less of you. Because if it weren’t for your actions, you, Jax and Happy might not have gotten out of this alive.

Jax knelt down beside you, a firm hand on your back, slowly rubbing soothing circles. He ripped off a part of his shirt and gave it to you to use as a tissue.

   “Thank you,” he whispered and dropped down next to you. He moved a leg behind your back, as you slouched on the ground, facing the wall. Every Son in the room knew not to disturb you.

Jax let you cry, and cry and cry until you no longer could.

Internally, Jax was ripping himself apart. How could he let this happen?

This didn’t happen because of anything she did. It was all on me. I should have made sure the hit was finished, that no one walked away. I should have given her stricter instructions. I should have made sure no one was following her.

                                                           - ✦ -

   After you had stopped crying, blown your nose and wiped your tears, you didn’t know what to say to Jax. He had let you rest your head on his chest. Had stroked your hair and held you close. You felt so safe with him.

 “Ready?” he asked, moving his head to look into your eyes.

Your throat felt dry, like you couldn’t speak. So, you just nodded.

 Jax got up, and held out his hand, when you grabbed it, your body felt like it was both hot and cold. Parts of you were in so much pain, and other parts were buzzing from the closeness with Jax. Your head felt like it was throbbing from the inside out.

 Jax walked with a hand behind your back, leading you toward the rest of the men. You wanted so badly to keep hold of his hand, to feel as close as you were only seconds before. But he gently unclasped his hand from yours when you entered the room.

  Happy had wiped the blood from his face and neck, but there were red splattering on his white shirt. When he saw you, he slowly walked over and held you in his arms.

     “You did good,” he mumbled, and kissed your head. He let go but didn’t go far.

You felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable in front of these men, so you let your body and voice act naturally.

 In a weak voice you asked, “who were they?” You were led to an empty seat and were given painkillers with a glass of water. You didn’t know who by exactly, you felt like you were in a haze.

 “They were the last members of the Lin Triads,” explained Chibs, whose bloody nose had started to ease. The red handkerchief was just about soaked through. The triads must have put up a good fight, even though they were taken by surprise.

Tig was sitting on the arm of the chair, arms crossed over his chest. Juice were cleaning everything up; making it look like it was before. You knew Skeeter noticed even the smallest of changes, so you’d have to go back and make things exactly how they were before. But the thought exhausted you. Later. You’d leave it until later.

 You slumped back in the chair and drank the rest of the water. Jax sat on the couch opposite you, leaning his head on a propped-up arm.

  “Fuckin’ Triads,” Tig grunted, getting up and helping himself to some painkillers as well.

“’Least they’re all dead now,” Happy replied, looking at Chibs.

     Chibs’ response was dry, “aye, they’re all dead now.”

                                                          - ✦ -

“I can’t promise that something like this won’t happen again.” Jax sat in the driver’s seat of the car, adamant that he was going to drive you home.

  “I know,” you said in a voice stronger than you felt.

“But Zo seeing you with a gun pressed to your throat-“ he cut himself off. You had left the crematorium; Happy would lock up and leave the keys underneath your doormat for tomorrow.

  “I know,” you whispered it now. Your throat clenched and you knew you would start crying soon. But you didn’t want to. You had cried enough.

  “And you still want to work with the club?” Jax stole a few seconds to look at you, then returned his gaze back to the road.

   “I knew what I was getting myself into…what I am getting myself into.”

[witchthewriter]

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 1k Warnings: mentions of dead bodies, violence

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        

“She’s not ready,” Jax’s voice was stern as he looked at Tig. The clubhouse meeting was going as it usually did; as it always had under Jax’s leadership. Except for now. What would have been an easy decision was completely stone-walled.

Tig looked at Jax with an exasperated expression. “Look man she told me she wanted extra cash and I think Zo would know what she can and can’t handle.”

The look Jax gave Tig was murderous. In that moment you could truly see why some call him the dark Prince of Charming.

 “I said no.” Jax slammed the gavel down hard and exited the room. He didn’t wait for anyone to follow him, nor did he want anyone to. He wanted to have this conversation alone.

The ride to your house took about fifteen minutes. It wasn’t far from the clubhouse; well not many people did live far from the club. Charming really was a small town – even smaller during its beginnings. The land had been divvied up during colonial times, with Charming getting its name because of how quaint it was. And because of the decisions centuries ago, anyone could visit anyone in Charming within twenty minutes.

You heard the rumbling of the bike and expected it to be Happy or Tig, the usual Sons who you interacted with. So, when you answered the door, you didn’t expect to see the grim reaper with his usual floppy hair and strained expression.

 “Um, hi,” you said, more so as a question than in greeting.  

Without an invitation, Jax walked straight past you and into your front living room. Nostrils flaring, he started to speak than stopped himself.

   “What the fuck?”

“You know what, yeah, actually ‘what the fuck’.” Jax looked at you, still standing at the door, one arm holding the door handle, the other raised in question.

You waited for him to speak, to explain himself. And for the very fact that he had decided to come here himself, instead of sending one of the Sons.

  After a long pause Jax finally spoke. “Why would you ask for this kind of work?”

“Wait, this is because I asked for more work?” Your eyebrows lifted and you shook your head.

     “Look sweetheart, I understand you want to make some extra cash. But I’m sure you can pick some work up somewhere else. A diner maybe? But not this. Don’t dig yourself deeper into the club.”

His words shocked you. They truly did. Why would the leader of the Sons of Anarchy be pushing you away from the club? The same club which he swore his life to?

On some level it was understandable; with Tara dying because of a hit. But you weren’t asking to be someone’s Old Lady. You just wanted to earn doing what you knew best. And who else in this town was able to do what you could?

 “First of all, handsome, I’m not asking to be patched in. All I did was put my hand up to help with the clean-up, okay?” You emphasised the nickname, trying to get across the fact that it was slightly insulting to be called that. Well…that it was insulting in this situation.

  Stunned, but not surprised, Jax did all he could not to roll his eyes. He’d mastered how to win an argument, but he’d never had an opponent like you. You, who he thought of during his marriage, you, who he thought of whenever shit was about to go down in Charming. You, who he could never quite figure out.

 “You know what,” he said turning to look you in the eyes, “if you want to get deeper into this club, fine. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

                                                         - ✦ -

You were told to stay in the car until after the meet was done. That’s when your part came into play-after the violence went down. Like always.

 You sat in the passenger seat of the big black van, which had very dark tinted windows. The matching black leather interior was clean and smelled strongly of rubbing alcohol. Overwhelmingly strong. You sat idly; with no phone reception, and the fact that any personal possessions would compromise the vehicle, therefore all you were left to do was wait.

And wait.

  And then wait some more.

You did possess patience, but this was excruciating. Making a mental note to ask if you could bring a book, a crossword. Hell, you’d even settle for a rubix cube. Feeling fidgety, you opened up the arm rest and found a pack of unopened cigarettes and digging a little deeper, you saw a rolled-up magazine. You didn’t even need to look at it to know what it was. Wiping your sweaty hands on your black jeans, you leaned back against the seat and groaned.

‘Hurry it uppppp,’ you thought, and crossed your arms over your chest.

But God herself must have heard you because within seconds you heard the loud bang of gunshots. You lost count after ten. Heart beating fast, all you could do was hope Jax had it under control.

Within minutes you a sleek grey car was coming toward you, inhabited by a group of men with their guns drawn. With their windows down you could see their faces; frustrated, enraged but most of all, panicked. Something’s gone wrong, you thought. Because no one but the Sons and yourself, were supposed to leave.

The car was picking up speed along the dirt road, even with your windows up you could hear the crunching of the tires on unpaved rocks. However, the car slowed when it came to the van; almost to a stop. The driver looked at you through the front window and you swore your heart stopped.

Yet within seconds they drove off, and you could breathe again.

                                                            - ✦ -

“This is fucked Jax, this is – we are really fucked,” Tig clambered back and forth, his gun still in his hand.

  “I know, okay, I know.” Biting his lip, Jax looked at the four dead bodies and remembered you, alone, in the van.

[witchthewriter]

I don’t know about anyone else but I really need more Jax and Zo smut in my life.

@yourwinchesterbros I never thought I'd see the day when someone asks for smut between you and Jax!

[witchthewriter]

I hate to bug you, but is there any update on Jax and Zo?

Thanks so much for sharing your writing.

Hi honey! I'm actually not quite sure when the next chapter will be out. But I'm sure @yourwinchesterbros would be so fricken happy to know her story has fellow readers!

[witchthewriter]

𝐉𝐚𝐱 & 𝐙𝐨

𝐻𝑜𝑤 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑚𝑒𝑡

for @yourwinchesterbros.

The cemetery was a place that many people visited, but only a few times in their life. Not for Jax Teller though; that was where he went to talk to his father. That was where he went to think, to clear his head. Unload his troubles. 

   And unlike the general population, Zoe O’Connor was at the cemetery ... a lot. She saw a lot of emotion at her job; tears, breakdowns, grief, and loss, and somehow she managed not to take that home with her. 

  Working at a funeral home was mostly doing what needed to be done and blocking out the rest. Trying not to humanise what was long gone. It took a special type of person to take on this responsibility, and Zoe did it with ease.

  So, when a blonde-haired biker stayed longer than usual in the graveyard, it was hard not to grasp onto his story. 

  Peering out the window, Zo looked at the kneeling man, his kutte an obvious indicator of who and where he belonged. The Sons of Anarchy. Known in Charming and the surrounding areas for their brutality, but also their aid for the local schools. Multidimensional, you thought and shrugged your shoulders. You’d learnt that nothing in this world was black and white. Good and bad. Usually the two mixed, and one would always be the victor. 

  You dropped the curtain you were peering out of and gave the biker some privacy. Half an hour went by and although you got a lot done, this man had somehow gotten ahold of you. So you walked over to that same window and peered out. But he was nowhere to be found. 

  Mentally shrugging your shoulders, you were heading back to work when you heard a ding! 

    You damned that bell your boss put on the desk. ‘Ring for assistance,’ it said, and you wanted to throw that bell in the incinerator. 

  “Hi, how can I help you?” You said before peering upwards. 

The Son from outside had one hand resting on the desk. And when you looked up at his face, you saw it. The ghost of grief long buried. 

   “I just wanted to say thanks, ya know. For keeping the graves clean and making sure they’re treated with respect.” 

 You didn’t expect such sincerity from him. You didn’t know him but had jumped to many conclusions in that small time you’d seen him through the window. 

   “No problem, everyone deserves respect. Especially those that have passed.” You gave him a warm smile but made sure not to overdo it. 

   A few seconds passed, which felt like a million minutes as Jax looked you over. Maybe he was staring at your tattoos, which showed memories and memorials to loved ones, stories and inside jokes. And some, well some of the tattoos were there because you just liked the look of them.

     True as that may be, Jax was really trying to figure you out. With your long warm brown hair and stoic demeanour. He knew you came from the same stuff his mother had. 

“I might be overstepping, but ... you look a little young to be working at a cemetery.” You saw the biker’s stance change; he was either letting a wall come down, or putting another one up. 

   “I know right, dermatologists hate me,” you said with a wink. But you finished that statement by telling him your real job. Picking up bodies, transporting them here. 

   “Damn. That’s pretty dark,” Jax remarked, taking out his gloves and slipping them on. 

  “Must be, if it’s coming from you.” 

     He knew exactly what you meant. “Well, I’ll see you around,” Jax said, giving you a sincere smile before heading out the door. 

Little did you know, that was the first of many encounters with Jax Teller, the future leader of the Sons of Anarchy.