#peeled jax
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gen-toon ¡ 1 year ago
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wowiexist0 ¡ 3 months ago
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What if this happens when Jax holds his breath
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creepedfinnart ¡ 1 year ago
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i call this piece "animation error"
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skinning him skinning him skinning him skinning him skinning him skinning him sk
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somechildwhosburntout ¡ 1 year ago
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“Peeled jax isn’t real he can’t hurt you”
Peeled jax:
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thebangmaster7 ¡ 1 year ago
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made a bunch of peeled jax during an episode last month. sharing to ruin someones day.
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falling-star-cygnus ¡ 1 year ago
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im not rlly thrilled with the video turnout, but i wanted to peel him
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alchemiccolored ¡ 1 year ago
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im so glad i get to introduce you
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BALD
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lalantes ¡ 6 months ago
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jax x zooble is funny
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vladstocker ¡ 8 days ago
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I FUCKING LOVED THAT 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
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blazingpeter ¡ 11 months ago
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The orange is mine but you can have the peel
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intrn37 ¡ 1 year ago
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jesus
ive noticed jax's face looks like a layer of silicone. do you think he would be able to take it off to reveal a yellow exoskeleton underneath?
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We're all too familiar with peeled Jax.
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laurfilijames ¡ 9 months ago
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Under His Kutte
Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Sending a nude photo. Fingering. Unprotected intercourse.
Summary: When Jax forgets his kutte at your house, you make good use of it.
A/N: I am such a slut for this man especially when he wears a hat, and particularly when it's backwards. I stared at this photo for too long and needed to write about it, and with the help from @ramadiiiisme, this happened. Bonus action of The Hat™️ at the end 🫠
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The same flustered excitement you felt in your stomach every time you saw Jax stirred up again despite having only said goodbye to him a few hours ago, the benefits of him having accidentally left his kutte behind continuing to grace you.
You placed it back on the sofa where he had carelessly discarded it last night, pretending as though you hadn’t seen it there as soon as you walked out of your bedroom earlier that morning, his rush to leave after being woken up by a phone call from Chibs making him forget his most treasured item of clothing.
You sat on the barstool at the kitchen island, sipping from a cup of coffee you had been nursing, smiling into the mug when you heard your door open and Jax strut through it as confidently and comfortably as usual.
“I left my kutte,” he explained, getting right to the point while glancing around your living room quickly, lifting up the blanket and a pillow off of the loveseat before spinning on the spot to begin his search of the sofa.
“Oh, did you? I hadn’t noticed,” you lied, your cheeks feeling a flush that was partly from the heat of the coffee but mostly from the sight of Jax. He had his Reaper Crew hat on backwards, sunglasses still on, and the sunshine had kissed the skin on his face to tint it with a healthy pink that was the same whenever he was fucking you.
Finally locating it, Jax held up his vest with a smile before shrugging it on and walking over to you, his smile bright and playful, and you knew his eyes held the same sparkle behind the black lenses that covered them that you could never forget.
He leaned down and kissed you, bracing his arms on either side of your body to land on the countertop and cage you in, forcing your body to arch back into it as he delved his tongue deep inside your mouth.
You hummed when he peeled himself away from you, your eyes feeling heavy with lust as you watched him lick his lips.
“Did you forget it on purpose?” you teased, slipping your hands beneath the leather panels to feel the warmth radiating off his body through his layers of faded shirts.
He chuckled, his hands reaching up to cup your face while he nudged your legs apart with his, standing close to you where he was able to grind his hips against you.
“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?”
You giggled when he grinned at you before capturing your lips again, pressing his bulge into your core to make you moan into his mouth, the fervor of your kiss growing with each pass of your tongues.
“Fuck!” he hissed, backing away from you but still holding your face in his hands. “I gotta go.”
You breathed out a disappointed sigh, tilting your head to the side as you watched him step away and try to collect himself, hoping he’d convince himself to stay for a hard and fast fuck.
His phone rang in his pocket, and he dug to answer it immediately, a hint of impatience in his voice. “Yeah, I’ll be right there. I said I’ll be right there…Five minutes! Jesus Christ.”
Jax flipped it shut and shook his head as he replaced it back in his pocket, closing the distance between you again with another smile on his face as soon as he looked at you.
“I’ll see you later.” he spoke sweetly, his tone completely different from the one he had just used to whatever poor soul had called him.
You nodded, smiling again as he kissed you once, then again, chuckling when he finally found the strength to stop and back away from you.
He stormed through to the front door in a few long strides, giving you one last grin as he shut the door behind him, and you grinned to yourself as you picked up your phone and sent him the photo you had taken just after he had called you to say he was stopping by.
You listened for the roar of his Harley to start up, feeling giddy as you waited to see if he checked his phone before taking off.
Standing, you walked over to the window, seeing him sitting on his bike looking at his phone with a huge smile on his face.
Your phone rang, his name and number lighting up the screen, and you answered through a smile so big it hurt your cheeks, “Did you forget something else?”
“Are you kidding me?” he asked, his amusement clear in his voice. “Jesus fucking Christ, how am I going to focus on anything now?”
“It’s just a little something to get you back here.”
“Like I need the help,” he said pointedly, starting his bike where it purred loudly through both the phone and the walls of your house.
“I’ll be back to deal with you soon,” he both promised and threatened, making heat surge through your body like wildfire.
“See you later, Teller.”
You hung up, tucking your lip between your teeth to stave off your smile as you looked at the photo you had sent again, feeling more than satisfied with the reaction it had gotten out of him.
You wore nothing but his kutte, your body that he had already made tired and sore from a sleepless night on full display under his leather, the bare skin on your chest bearing the claiming marks left by his mouth.
He took off quickly, his engine rumbling so loud it vibrated the house and sent a shiver down your spine, and you hoped whatever it was he was going to do was done quickly so he could get back to you soon.
You did everything you could think of to occupy yourself; laundry, dishes, even baked muffins and whipped up a casserole, knowing Jax would be hungry when he got there, or if he wasn’t, that he would be made hungry from all the things you did whenever you were together.
The impatience you felt was beginning to outgrow your arousal, the desperation in wanting to have your hands on him and his on you becoming too much to stand any longer.
Not two minutes later did you hear the distant grumble of his Harley tearing through your neighbourhood, your body conditioned over time to respond to that sound and awaken a neediness and desire that never seemed to be sated.
Even though you expected it, you still jumped when Jax barrelled through the door with a hungry and desperate look on his face as he stared you down while kicking off his white sneakers, his grin sly and crooked.
“Why the fuck aren’t you naked yet?” he panted, crossing the room to get to where you stood waiting for him.
“Isn’t half the fun undressing me?”
“Yeah, but when I’ve been staring at that pic you sent me all day, I kinda want to get to the point,” he explained, his eyebrows lifting upward while he tugged his jeans down to the floor.
He still had his ball cap on, worn with the bill of it facing forward this time, the shade casting on his face making his blue eyes glow like flames in the shadow.
Jax slipped his kutte off, placing it carefully on the back of the sofa as if making a point that he knew where it was or would be needing it again soon, and stepped toward you, tipping his head and giving you a piercing look.
“Now, get naked.”
You obeyed with a grin, crossing your arms to grab at the hem of his ‘SAMCRO’ t-shirt, pulling it over your head where you had the satisfaction of hearing Jax’s breath hitch when your tits became exposed, and tossed it on the floor beside you.
Remaining in your panties, you went to assist him with his clothes, only to have him grip your wrists, his long fingers wrapping around them securely.
“That’s not naked, sweetheart.”
You glared at him as he released you, making a point to slowly hook your thumbs in the waist of them and inch by torturous inch, crept them down your hips.
“Jesus Christ,” he huffed impatiently, even though he was still smiling.
A furious look flashed in his eyes when you pulled them back up to their rightful place, challenging what he would do, and you gasped in equal shock and fear when he grabbed onto your thong and tore them roughly down your thighs.
He crashed against your lips, kissing you with a demand that reminded you that he wasn’t playing games, your body flinching when his fingers trailed along your hip and to your soaked pussy.
Spreading your legs further apart, you moaned into his mouth, rocking on his hand as he drove two fingers inside you, hooking them to massage your g-spot.
Within minutes he had you on the edge, fucking you with his fingers until you were a whimpering mess ready to completely fall apart, but he stopped his movements and withdrew his hand from you, smirking at you with a smugness that managed to turn you on even more.
“Fuck, Jax,” you hissed, your breathing sharp as an untamed feeling ran through your veins.
“Hang on, darlin’” he drawled, his tone all-too happy considering what he just did to you.
He took off his hat and then tore his shirts off his torso, leaving him in his boxers that did nothing to disguise how large and hard he was, and had he not tugged them off himself, you were seconds away from doing it for him, your need for him increasing to the highest point when his cock sprang free.
“Put the hat back on,” you requested, your voice so lusty it was almost unrecognizable.
You squirmed in place, seeing the surprise in his features as he did as you asked and placed it back over his messy, blond tresses that crept out wildly from under it, his expression turned cocky in knowing how horny you were.
A half-satisfied smile pulled at your lips when he stood up against you, wrapping his arms behind your back where his hands carded up and down, returning your smile.
You leaned back slightly, reaching up to grip the bill of it to spin it around, facing it backwards just as he had worn it earlier.
“Happy now?” he chuckled.
You nodded, “Mhm. Are you?”
“Fuck, no!” he admitted jokingly through another laugh, reaching over for his kutte that he hadn’t for a second forgotten about you wearing earlier.
Guiding each of your arms through it, he brought it up to rest on your shoulders, holding onto the edges of its opening as his thumbs moved to rub your nipples until they hardened, making you shiver while a breathy whine passed your lips.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, his mouth so close to you that his lips grazed your parted ones when he spoke.
You let your eyes close, waiting for him to give you the pleasure he was never selfish with, holding your breath until you felt his lips press onto your neck and down over your chest, his hands falling to your waist and then your hip, smoothing over the curve of your bum where he squeezed your flesh and gave it a playful slap.
Your giggle was swallowed when he kissed you, and you felt his own laugh shake through his chest when you brought your hands up to it, sliding them up to cradle his neck and let your fingers dance where his hair brushed along his bare shoulders.
In a swift motion that caught you off-guard, Jax lifted you into his arms, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist where he backed you up against the wall, thudding against the drywall as he pressed his body hard into yours.
Your nails raked across his shoulders and upper back, roaming to tangle in his hair that wasn’t trapped beneath his hat, and when he lined his cock up to your spread pussy and guided himself inside, you pulled at the strands that were woven between your fingers, his reaction to both sensations reverberating in your mouth.
Jax unleashed all his power on you, holding you up while slamming into you aggressively, the photos that hung on your wall rattling and banging with his barbaric movements.
Doing the best you could to move with him, you humped up and down in an effort to rub your clit on the coarse, wheat coloured pubes above his cock, feeling your climax begin to build again where it had been left teetering on the edge.
You caught Jax staring at your exposed tits, his vest having opened to put them fully on display where they bounced to the enthusiasm of his thrusts and your erratic rocking, his pupils blown out wide with lust.
“You look so fucking good, baby,” he growled, taking one last look at the erotic scene before meeting his mouth with yours, his kiss sloppy and rough.
A sweat started to break out on both of your bodies, your skin able to slip and glide on his easier with the harder you worked, the hair at the base of his neck damp when you moved your fingers along it.
Jax was always completely enamoured when he fucked you, but for some reason with you wearing his kutte today, he found himself in even more of a state, destroying you with reckless abandon to create the whimpering mess before him that he craved to see, the sounds he pulled from you the sweetest ones he'd ever heard. He was convinced it had something to do with the way his Vice President patch kept swaying beside your right breast as your chest shook in time to his ruthless pace, or the way the worn, faded, black leather and the white on all the labels that had turned dingey over time looked against your supple skin, and the thought of fucking you in it when it ranked him as President one day instead had him ready to explode.
The sense of pride he felt when it came to his club and displaying its logos was something he never took lightly, and seeing them on you intensified it even more, making it seem like no one else could wear them as well as you.
He became almost possessive, wanting to claim you and prove to you all the things he never vocalized all while knowing without hesitation that everything under that piece of leather was his and his only.
He kissed you roughly, not caring that the scruff on his face was turning your skin raw or that his teeth had knocked against yours more than once in his frenzy to get enough of you, feeling your pussy get wetter with every drive of his dick inside it.
“Fucking turn around!” he spat through gritted teeth, giving the order despite forcing you to do it anyway. He dropped your legs and had you spun around and planted against the wall in a matter of seconds, his hand wrapped around the back of your neck to guide you forward, pushing you down so you hinged at your waist and were bent over.
His other hand gripped at your ass to spread your cheeks apart, his cock finding your open cunt without needing any help, slamming into you so hard you had to brace yourself on the wall to stop your face from hitting it.
“God, I’m gonna - fuck! - I’m gonna cum, Jax!” you wailed, your ability to speak properly taken away when he reached around you and started rubbing your clit.
“Yeah?” he huffed, mesmerized in the sight of his glistening cock pumping in and out of you. “You gonna cream all over me, you fucking slut?”
The way he barked that name made you shiver, your mouth filling with saliva to a point you couldn't even contain it anymore, feeling it drool out as your jaw went slack and your climax billowed its way to the surface.
Exhilaration took over you, your moans and cries of approval of how hard Jax was fucking you making him increase his fervor, creating a domino effect of you growing louder and his own moans to sound out and intoxicate you further, the mix of everything so dizzying that it was impossible to imagine a better high.
Jax chuckled behind you, the sound maniacal and deliciously twisted. “That’s it, fuck…”
You let go, accepting the way his body threw you into a trembling orgasm, clenching hard around his cock as he proceeded to pound you mercilessly, hearing his grunts and growls increase in volume and consistency as he honed in on his own end.
He couldn’t look away, watching your combined milky spend leak out of you as he continued to fuck you, your ass cheeks shaking along to his irregular thrusts, the Reaper patch spread out across your back as you took every blow he gave you a sight he would never tire of.
His hand was soaked when he removed it from between your legs, bringing his fingers to his mouth where he sucked them clean, keeping his dick buried inside you until he couldn't anymore.
You closed your eyes as you worked at steadying your breath, your fingers continuing to grip the wall even as you slowly began to straighten your body, feeling full and close to him despite him having slipped from you.
Sweaty handprints temporarily stained the paint when you opened your heavy lids again, smiling at the tingling afterglow that filled your veins, that smile growing bigger when you felt Jax press his lips to your dewy neck where he kissed your sensitive skin with gratitude. You were spun around again, gentler this time, his sweet smile matching yours as he brought his hands up to cup your cheeks, your hands wrapping around his damp back to help support you as you stood on unreliable legs.
He was heavenly in his post-fuck glow, small beads of sweat dancing just below the edge of his hat, his skin tinged with a pinkish blush from his efforts, his pulse hammering in his neck. His lips looked more inviting than usual, plump and moist, and when his tongue licked across them before dipping to capture yours, you swore your own pulse ceased in its duties.
The way he looked at you when he pulled away after kissing you slowly was curious, a softness and devotion reflecting in his cerulean blues that made your heart beat faster after having just managed to regulate it.
“You look like you've got something to say, Jax,” you breathed, wondering if there would ever be a day that he would say what he felt.
He shrugged, his thumbs stroking your heated face as he tilted his head, looking between your bodies at yours clad in nothing but his kutte, seeing his cum dripping down your thigh.
“I think I'll be leaving this here more often.”
You both laughed as he kissed you again, shuffling forward to push you against the wall where he was able to press his lips to yours as much as he wanted to.
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tetsuskei ¡ 7 months ago
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⟣ tartaglia
notes: based off the fact that i am indeed a sleepy drunk, and also inspired by diluc’s lore with firewater, also childe lore. he can smell when something is done cooking?
warnings: self indulgent, childe is referred to by his birth name, russian pet names, suggestive themes, fluff
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it’s always a beautiful sight to see your boyfriend, ajax, when he cooks in the kitchen.
second to the battlefield, this place is his domain. the sound of soft music plays in the background, and he’s completely in his element. the ginger moves his hips to the rhythm, swaying ever so gracefully while mumbling the lyrics to the current song under his breath. he’s always been a great dancer, so you’re not surprised. it makes you wonder if there’s anything he’s not good at.
you always adore seeing him in atmospheres such as this one, especially with how much he loves to cook. his lips are pursed in concentration, a cute crinkle to his nose on display from the small frown on his face. all of his movements are skilled and dexterous. his knife abilities—albeit ignoring the fact that he’s a harbinger—are precise and quick, almost like everything he’s doing is a second thought.
it may be the alcohol you had talking, or the everlasting love you have for him—or maybe both that gets you feeling extremely soft. the urge to kiss away the expression on his face is high, but you hold back on distracting him and starting something else entirely.
and speaking of distractions, your handsome boyfriend is sporting a v-neck crew shirt and some sweatpants. much different from his sharp work attire. and although loose, the material of his clothes are still somewhat form fitting. his back muscles had been flexing every so often in a way that makes it hard to peel your eyes away. you silently curse his lean muscular self for looking so soft and domestic. just really, how shameless—
“hey! you’re supposed to be helping, not slacking off!” ajax scolds, pointing a wooden spoon at you in a chastising way. but the playful lit to his tone suggests otherwise as he cocks his head, smiling. “mila, what are you daydreaming about from over there?”
you giggle, “sorry, i’m just admiring the view.”
he hums, his smile growing. “and is the view to your liking?”
“it’s likely.” you answering padding over to him.
“i hope so. i don’t look this good for nothing.”
once in his radius, he pulls you into his side, swaying you both as he stirs the food. he quietly tells you it’s his mother’s recipe and his favorite thing to make.
“may i try some?” you ask.
wordlessly, your boyfriend holds out a spoonful for you, and you happily eat off of the utensil. the juices and flavors evade your mouth, beating the rich aroma you’ve succumbed to long ago.
you close your eyes in bliss, blinking them open happily. “wow! it’s delicious, ‘jax!”
“it’s not done yet.” he explains, humbly. “almost, but not quite.”
“okay, perfectionist.” you laugh, going back for more. “still good enough to me.”
he pushes your hand back. “you’ll spoil your appetite.” he warns, frowning.
“i promise i don’t want a lot. just a smidge more. please?” you look up at him with the biggest doe eyes you can muster, and he falters, trying to look away and focus back on what he’s doing.
as uncharacteristic as it may seem, ajax does not put up very much of a fight. not that he could ever say no to you anyways.
he sighs, “alright…fine.”
while you sit and eat (after clearly giving up on helping), your boyfriend starts to ramble about some theater performance he wants to take you to in fontaine.
“so what do you think?”
you hum quietly in response, your cheek on your hand. “mmh that sounds nice…”
ajax glances over at you, concerned. you had grown awfully quiet.
“are you alright?” he asks, inspecting the rest of you for any strange signs. “we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”
“i want to, yes!” your thoughts are jumbled. “and m’fine. why?” you add to reassure him, “just tired.”
‘tired? you were fine just fifteen minutes ago. so full of energy, actually’ he thinks, watching the way your eyes are suddenly drooping.
“well don’t worry, i’m almost done.” ajax assures.
“hey. did you put this in the food?” you hold up the open bottle of white wine, and some of the contents spill out. however, your boyfriend is quick to grab it once seeing how you’re swaying.
suddenly it all clicks in his brain. “ahh, i might’ve put in too much.” he chuckles, now noting the smell of the food a little bit different than usual. stronger and sharper like the wine. “that explains things. plus the firewater we had from earlier.” he recalls you taking an impressive amount of shots, trying to out beat him.
“didn’t you once say something about sharing firewater with someone in the cold makes them trustworthy? i’ve done half the battle!” you say with pride, albeit wobbling a little. “let’s go sit outside later! we’ll see who freezes first!”
ajax stares at you in awe before laughing—loudly.
“milaya, you always surprise me with just how cute you can be.” he pinches your cheeks before moving his hand to your lower back, steering you towards the couch. “now come on, sit down. you’re going to fall over at this rate.”
“‘kay.” you mumble, letting him guide you. you don’t really feel yourself moving until the plush cushion under you meets your bottom.
“i’m just going to clean up and i’ll be right back. i promise.” he reassures, squeezing your hand before releasing it.
you jump back up eagerly, “i’ll help!”
“no, you’ll stay here.” he pushes you back down gently before standing up himself. there’s a stern look on his face as he says, “you’ve had too much to drink. that’s my fault.”
a small huff leaves your mouth and you pout. your eyes start to water. “then…at least sit with me!”
“the kitchen has to be cleaned up, lisichka.” he reminds gently.
your eyes grow wetter. “the kitchen is more important than me?”
he gives you a look. “nothing could ever be more important than you. you know that.”
“then…you’ll stay. it is your fault after all.”
he laughs, scratching the back of his head, “alright then. but only for a little bit.”
the minute he sits down, you promptly slide yourself onto his lap, wordlessly making yourself comfortable.
“oh? what’s this?” his heart swells. you’re usually too shy to initiate something like this, often leading him to pulling you onto him.
there’s a confused look on your face. “you said to sit down and stay here, so i’m doing that.” you blink slowly, head tilting. “did i sit wrong?”
“no, of course not.” he answers, kissing your forehead. thankfully you’re too out of it to tease him, or he’d never hear the end of it.
he shifts you so your legs straddle his lap. your face is buried in his neck, breathing in the smell of his aftershave and the pinewood scent of him. one hand reaches up towards his soft locks and mindlessly plays with it.
ajax feels his entire being burning with exhilaration. while he knows how to handle his alcohol way better than you do, he is not immune to your touches. he could get intoxicated and drunk on any little thing you do.
a satisfied exhale leaves the man and he closes his eyes for moment, his nose nuzzling your cheek. the feeling of your warm palms sliding across his face pull him out of the moment before your eyes meet.
you hum, staring at him closely. “have your eyes always looked like this?” you ask.
he blinks. “like what? and why?”
“they’re so blue. i’ve never seen eyes like yours before.”
“no, they haven’t.” he answers honestly. he tries to avert his attention away from you, but your hands grab his face again.
“they’re so pretty…like the ocean…” you breathe, now poking at his freckles. “you’re so pretty…”
the man is pretty sure he’s blushing right now when you speak, rambling and comparing him like the sea. of the comforting warmth and unpredictability of the weather, all comparable to his nature—which you love.
you must be trying to kill him, because what he doesn’t expect next is for you to kiss him on the nose, and then his cheeks.
by the time he’s chasing your lips with his own, you’re pulling back, giggling quietly.
“hey, you can’t just tease like that—“ you slump against him, and he freezes, eyes widening.
“milaya?”
“…”
pulling your face back from his chest, he notes that you’ve passed out.
ajax tugs you tight in his hold, tucking your face in the crook of his neck. the smell of your hair makes his heart grow even bigger and fonder.
“by the tsaritsa, my cute girlfriend can’t hold her alcohol well,” he laughs to himself, absently tracing shapes into your lower back, “i’m sure glad this happened at home, or god knows what would happen out in public.”
he doesn’t really know if he’d be more worried about your own safety, or the things he’d do if someone dared to take advantage of you.
either way, his endless vow to protect you couldn’t be broken anyway anyhow. not even in death. he’d be loyal to you for a thousand life times.
bonus:
waking up groggily, you rub your eyes, shield them from from the unavoidable brightness of the sun.
while warm light hits your face, it only makes you feel hot and cold all at the same time. a feeling that should be welcoming only suffocates you instead as an ache converges the nerve points in your head.
“rise and shine sleeping beauty.”
you turn limply, eyes widening at the sight of ajax standing in the doorway.
“i was really hoping on you waking up soon.” he says pushing the door open further. he holds a tray of food in his hands. padding over to you he nods to the water and ibuprofen on the bedside table. “once you eat some, you should really take that.”
maybe its the sleep in your eyes or the fact that you’re not fully awake yet, but you tear up. “you’re always taking care of me.”
“yep, that is my job.” he places the food down, leaning over to kiss away any stray tears.
“thank you.”
he clicks his tongue. “what did i tell you about thanking me for things like this?”
you roll your eyes. such a stubborn man.
you quietly tell him that your brain is foggy, and while you partially don’t want to know, wish that he recall what last happened when you were awake.
“you should’ve seen how cute you were while drunk. i don’t think i could ever forget it.” he laughs once he’s done recapping.
blood rushes to your cheeks, your face aflame. “i’m not going to be able to live this down, am i?”
ajax laughs again, “don’t think so! although, being passed out for pretty much the whole day is alarming, so i don’t think we will be letting you near any alcohol anytime soon.”
your shoulders droop, “i guess that’s fair…”
“don’t be so sad! here, let me feed you!” he moves behind you, sitting down on the bed so his legs are on either side of you. his chest presses into your backside as he reaches for the food.
“‘jax i can feed myself just fine.” you say, going for the spoon, but his reflexes are faster.
“please?” he looks down at you, hoping his ocean hues favor him.
you sigh. “fine.”
the two of you sit in comfortable silence as he feeds you, and you being hungrier than you realize, finish everything quickly.
“i almost forgot! you owe me something.” he says coyly.
you frown, “huh?”
“after all that teasing yesterday…you left me high and dry…” he sniffs.
you blink, and suddenly it’s clear what he’s insinuating. “a kiss?”
“so you remember?” he asks.
you shrug, “just barely…”
“well, now that you’re aware—“ he scoots towards you, knees bumping your own before he’s pulling you towards him.
a yelp leaves you. “b-but i just ate food! and…and i need to brush my teeth!” you protest, but he’s still hovering close over you.
“so?”
there’s no use, because the minute you open your mouth to reply, ajax swoops down, kissing you wordlessly and hungrily. his tongue brief swipes over yours before he soon pulls back.
there’s a mild grimace on his face, “yeah, go brush your teeth.”
you shove him back on the bed, making him holler with laughter, “i told you!”
“it was still worth it, mila!” he shouts after you.
“fuck you.” you spit.
“with pleasure.” he smiles.
notes: my mom added too much white wine to food she made, so she’s the running inspiration for this. shout out to her!
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pileofboneswrites ¡ 4 months ago
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TAILSPIN_oneshot.sonsofanarchy
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SUMMARY — after receiving an unintelligible call from jax, your rush back to charming to discover your son, abel, has been kidnapped by camerson hayes, and worst yet, he also killed your younger brother that you practically raised.
PAIRING — exhusband!jax teller x fem!halfsack'ssister!reader | juice ortiz x reader
WORD COUNT — 3.8k
WARNINGS — established relationship(s), kidnapping, murder, death, past child neglect (about reader and her brother), divorce, premature birth, pregnancy complications, agent stahl, swearing, fighting, angst, loss of loved ones, suicidal thoughts, contemplation of suicide, cheating, allusion to smut but no description, no use of y/n (she's actually only outwardsly referenced 2 times and is referred to as miss epps or epps).
AUTHORS NOTES — just to clear somethings up; jax married reader instead of wendy, and instead of drugs being the reason abel was born early it was just due to pregnancy complications.
MASTERLIST
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your heart was slamming rapidly into your ribcage, panic rolling off your skin in waves. you push the pedal to the floor, the idea of a speeding ticket not even remotely close to crossing your mind. this was your fault, it was. leaving charming, even for a few hours always felt like it had consequences. something bad always seemed to happen the moment you crossed the county line. your tires squeal as you peel into the teller-morrow parking lot, slamming your car in park as you jump out, only barely remembering to take off your seatbelt as you go. clay, piney, and opie are standing by the entrance to the clubhouse, sad expressions creasing their features.
"what happened?!" you ask, your voice loud, panicked and harsh.
the surprise on their faces from your tone has silence ringing in your ears. you'd known them for years, opie, jax and you being quite the troublesome trio through most of your youth. they'd never heard you raise your voice before, let alone the venom behind your words.
"someone answer me!" you shout, your entire body vibrates from the panic working its way down to your stomach.
you're going to puke if someone doesn't tell you what the hell is going on, and soon. you'd received a rather frantic voicemail from jax last night and hadn't been able to reach him since, which is what made you turn your car around and head for the clubhouse. his voice was shakey, and you couldn't hear a damn thing that made sense. but you know jax, and jax doesn't panic. he's dealt with and seen it all through the years, he's not easy to shake. so hearing your husband–well soon-to-be ex-husband–in that state had your mind reeling.
"kiddo, you need to take a deep breath." clay starts, attempting to sling an arm around your shoulders.
you shrug him off, "no! you need to tell me what the hell is going on, and why jax called me in a panic, and where the hell he is!"
it comes out as one rushed sentence, barely comprehensible but opie steps towards you. he rests a large hand on your shoulder, a distraught look on his face.
"we need you to take a breath, seriously, epps. i'll tell exactly what's happening, but you've barely taken a breath since walking over here, and you look like you're going to passout."
you nod, sucking in some extremely needed air. you take a second to just regulate yourself, and in that time, opie steers you over to one of the picnic tables. you sit down, back to the table and once you've calmed a little, you cross your arms and look up at him expectantly.
"alright, now, tell me."
he glances back at clay, and at his dad, before looking back to you. they turn and walk into the clubhouse, giving you two some privacy.
"cameron hayes killed your brother because he thinks gemma killed edmund,"
"w-what?" you ask, bottom lip wobbling, your head is spinning
your baby brother is... dead? eddie is dead? cameron hayes killed your brother? you shake your head, wiping your eyes on the sleeve of your flannel. you'd practically raised eddie. your mom was a drunk, and your dad had left long before you could form any memories of him. so, from ten on, you were big sister, mommy and daddy all rolled into one. you taught him manners, how to use the toilet, how to cook, how to flirt with girls, and so many more things. you'd been there for every step of his life, cheering loud enough to drown out the naysayers.
when he left for the military you were terrified that you'd get that call every parent dreds. sure, you weren't really his mom, you couldn't be with the five year age gap, but in all the areas that mattered, you were. eddie was your first kid in a twisted sense, and knowing that he'd made it all the way home from iraq, only to die at the hands of someone affiliated with the club that he loved so much shattered your heart.
"n-no, that's not possible, i-i just sp-spoke to eddie, we-we just spoke this morning. h-he said he and-and-and-and," you're spiraling, mind and heart racing faster, and faster before your expression drops, and your mind clears. "abel. he was taking tara back to jax's to get some of abel's things. where is my baby? where's abel, harry? where is my baby?"
you're sobbing uncontrollably, your entire body shaking as you slide off the seat of the picnic table, onto the concrete. opie pulls you into his chest, and you sob into his shirt. it's another first for all of them, watching you breakdown, watching you cry.
"we're going to find abel," opie says into your ear, trying to calm you down, it doesn't help, you just cry harder.
it shouldn't have happened in the first place! the club was on lockdown. losing eddie is hard enough, but losing your son in the same span of minutes is devastating. it takes you twenty minutes, but when you finally pull yourself together again you pat opie's arm, and stand up.
"where is jax?" you ask quietly, taking a deep breath.
"he's at home, we're heading over there now, let juice drive you, you shouldn't be driving right now." opie says, and you nod.
normally you'd fight him, which he's well aware of, but knowing your son is god knows where has you in an anxious tailspin. you don't have the energy to fight with anyone right now. opie walks you over to your car, tucking you into the passenger seat and waiting by the door for the other's to come out of the clubhouse.
"what happened exactly?" your voice is barely a whisper, and opie looks worried.
"are you sure you want the run down right now?" he questions, and you immediately nod, your eyes on the hood of your car.
"please, ope," its the most desperate, pathetic sound to ever cross your lips, but you have to know.
he takes a deep breath, "what tara says happened, is that gemma took off while they were out, so she sent your brother to watch over her, and she went to jax's house. stahl freaked, shot edmund hayes, gemma shot polly, and stahl pinned the blame on her. half– eddie took off to find tara, and cameron must have followed him from their safe house. cameron was going to kill abel, but your brother stepped in, and got stabbed in the process. he tied her up in the nursery, and left with abel."
"the same man who killed my brother, has my son?" you ask, and he nods. "and tara just let him take my son?"
"well, i wouldn't say that—"
"everyone's ready," juice says, stepping up to the driver's side window, pulling the door open.
"hang tight," opie says, patting your knee before closing the door, and walking over to his bike.
"hey baby," juice says softly, "i'm sorry."
you nod, but don't say anything. you pull your seatbelt on, and lean back. you and juice had been together for a couple of months, with jax's blessing of course. he'd been great, amazing even. part of you would always love jax in a way that juice would understand, and he was okay with that. knowing you would be crawling into bed with him every night was good enough to ease any worries he might have had. juice had been rock solid in your life, a shoulder you privately cried on when jax had initially asked for the divorce.
you saw it coming from a mile away, while you'd loved each other greatly, it just wasn't the same kind. you knew that in the beginning, the middle and especially at the end. you also knew that if you didn't agree, or you tried to convince him to stay, that you'd lose him for real. he'd grow to resent you, and you'd grown to hate him for resenting you. you couldn't live in a world where jax wasn't at least a part of your life in some capacity. so that meant an amicable split, and seeing him when you dropped off abel. despite what most people think about your relationship, things haven't changed.
jax is still one of your best friends, and when you're not working, you're usually at his house. your relationship label may have changed, but your relationship hadn't. opie had been the most worried when you'd told him you were getting divorced. his two best friends splitting? nightmare. but when you told him there were no hard feelings, well, he actually didn't believe you at first. it took seeing you both in action to actually understand that you were serious. then, you found out you were pregnant.
it didn't change anything, you were still getting divorced, but jax was actually really excited. he'd told you about all his worries about becoming a father, and you reassured him that he'd be great. in turn he did the same for you. he joined you at every appointment, and played a very active role in your pregnancy. he helped you find an apartment close to his house, and spent a lot of time by your side helping you with nursery set up, moving, and everything in between.
gemma was probably the most heartbroken over your split. she loved you just as much as (and sometimes more than) jax. she helped you a lot over the years, especially when she found out about her grandbaby. gemma made the transition from wife, to ex and baby momma so much easier. she was a cheerleader for you, and always in your corner. you were incredibly lucky to have them, and be in the situation you were in. tara on the other hand... she was the opposite. gemma clocked it the moment you went into labour prematurely.
you'd been stressed over work, being the only manager on an already understaffed team was difficult but so was being pregnant. you'd never planned on getting pregnant, so there were a lot of things at work you decided were to be dealt with later. the moment you found out, you were trying your damnedest to get things ready. the stress got to you, and manifested itself in making your pregnancy high risk, and then landing you in the hospital way earlier than you should have been. it was obvious to you the moment jax came to see you after abel was born that tara thought it was your fault.
later it became clear to you that she just didn't like you, something you didn't notice in your teen years. you'd never really spent any time with her then, but the more time you spent with her after your son's birth, because lets face it anytime you went to visit jax she was there. all smiles, and cooing at your son until jax left the room, and then a scowl and general disinterest in you reared its ugly head. now things were different. she let a terrorist kill your baby brother, and kidnapp your son. karma was about to take her ass for a ride, and you were going to be driving.
"hey," juice says, his warm hand finding yours over the center console, snapping you from your thoughts. "we're here,"
you turn your head, and see clay speaking to tara in the doorway. your vision goes dark. you don't even remember getting out of the car, let alone walking over to tara and grabbing a handful of her hair. you're yelling is incomprehensible, but it's obvious to onlookers that you're sobbing as you beat the shit out of her. you come to again with juice's arms around you, pulling you into the house, and opie pulling tara inside into a different room. your only injury is three claw marks across your cheek, but tara is quite a bit worse for ware.
"what the hell were you thinking?!" jax snaps at you, upon pulling you away from juice, and into abel's nursery.
"i was thinking about how that bitch let some guy take my fucking baby and kill my baby brother!" you scream at him, breaking down all over again. "my baby..."
his expression softens, and he wraps an arm around you, pulling you into a hug. you sob into his shoulder, loud, heartbreaking, borderline violent wails.
"i'm sorry about your brother, i really am, but you can't blame tara."
you pull back, weaseling away from his grip, "can't i?"
"it could have happened to anyone, it could have happened to you."
"i would have died, jackson, and i think you better than anyone knows that. i would have died for abel. for eddie. i would not have let that man get away with everything i love." you say, sobering, violent, hot anger courses through you. "i would have died or killed him. i wouldn't have let him walk out the door."
he just stares at you. his once bright blue eyes dark, like the light behind them died. you know he knows exactly how you feel. that he blames tara to some degree. but you don't really care. you're numb. your heart aching in a way you've never felt before. in a way you'd never wish upon your worst enemy. tara included, despite what she did. the worst part is you don't have the one person you want to talk to about it. eddie died protecting her, and his nephew. what did tara do? she let herself get tied up, let cameron take your baby, let cameron kill your brother. tara lost nothing, and once again, you've lost everything.
"i want to kill her jax," you say finally, after what feels like an eternity of silence, his sad eyes just staring back at you. "that's not rational, not right. but i've just lost the two single most important people in my life, and i want to kill her for it."
"i understand what you're saying, why you're saying it," he says slowly, "but you're right, it's not rational."
"when abel comes home, she's not allowed to be around him by herself. i don't care what that means. i don't feel comfortable with her being alone with our son." you tell him, fingers grasping the cool leather of his kutte to pull him in closer. "i don't want to see, hear or think about her until then, and you bet your ass, i'm coming with you to bring him home, whatever, and wherever that takes us."
jax briefly looks scared of you, but he collects himself just as quickly as you let him go, and brush past him back out the way you came.
"you're lucky you're not dead," you seeth, flipping tara off with both hands as you walk back out to your car.
worried about your well-being and your mental state, jax sends juice home with you when you leave. the drive to your apartment, albeit quick, is silent. how does one comfort someone who lost both their only child, and only brother in a matter of minutes? besides, juice knows you well enough to know that you'll talk when you're ready. if you're ever ready. and right now? you don't know if you'll ever be. the fear of unraveling that far scares you. so for now, you think positively, and you keep moving forward.
it takes four hours, before agent stahl is in your living room, sitting on your couch. juice stands in the kitchen, watching the exchange from the sink, where he's washing your lunch dishes.
"so, mrs teller, where were you yesterday afternoon?" she asks, and you immediately understand why the club hates the woman so much.
"the divorce might not be finalized yet, but it's miss epps, and i was half-way to seattle."
"ah, yes, i forgot about that... why were you heading to seattle?"
"i don't really see how that's going to get my son back, seeing as you know who took him already."
"we need to get a picture together of everyone's movements."
"i got a phone call a few days ago, my mother's in the hospital there. she wanted to see me, so i was going."
"as i understand it, you aren't close with your mother?"
"no. look, agent stahl, this isn't helping. get your ass out there and look for my son. you're the reason my brother died, i'm not interested in you being the reason my son dies too. do your fucking job." you abruptly stand up, and walk into the kitchen.
you want to throw something. you want to scream. you want to be violent and aggressive. you miss your brother. you miss your baby. you want them back. most of all, you want this nightmare to be over.
when jax tells you they're heading to ireland, you pack light, but take abel's favourite stuffed animal, a white bear with a blue hat, mitts, scarf and booties. you carry the bear with you, hugging it tightly when you worry you're about to fall apart. jax's reassuring hand on your knee, and juice's hand in yours keeps your grounded. you lose yourself a little every time you think you're going to see abel, and then are denied at the last moment.
when father ashby finally drops the bomb on you and jax; that he'd been adopted, sold to another family, you break down. father ashby tries to comfort you, but nothing he says changes anything.
"i don't care about your fucking god, i don't. i don't care about your promise to john teller. i want my fucking baby back. your cousin has caused me enough pain; by killing my fucking brother. don't make the mistake of keeping my son from me." you scream, uncaring who hears you. "i'm sure you know the saying desperate people, do desperate things. desperate doesn't even begin to cover what i am, and what i'm willing to do to get abel in my arms, and back home."
you lay in bed all day, the blanket pulled up over your head, your eyes squeezed closed, the bear tucked under your arm. you've felt sick from the moment you'd heard that abel might be gone. whisked away by some—in their defence, probably oblivious, but lovely—couple, about to be taken god knows where. the very notion, that you could go home empty handed hurts, burns, stabs at your heart. you feel like someone's cut you open, and taken a knife to your chest. poking and proding at all the parts you should never poke and prod at.
you've never felt worse in your life; physically, mentally, and emotionally. you're drained, exhausted, and contemplating ending your life. you've never felt so low. you're almost embarrassed as the idea crosses your mind, but the longer you stew, the longer it seems like a really appealing idea. incredibly selfish, but desperation is like that. you weren't sure how jax was downstairs, enjoying the night, the party, the people... how he wasn't suffocating, like you were. everthing is falling apart, collapsing around you, and he's acting like everything's a-ok.
you don't hear the bedroom door open, but you startle when you feel the bed dip behind you. fight mode activates, and you leap from the bed, eyes scanning for a weapon. then you see jax's face in the reflection of the window, your heart rate slows.
"you asshole, make some noise when you move around. i thought i was about to get murdered..." you close your eyes, hands dropping to your sides. "why are you here?"
"i'm so sorry," his voice is barely a whisper, you vaguely make out the trembling of his bottom lip, and the tears streaming down his face. "this never– never should have happened."
your expression softens, and you sink back down on the small bed. you pull jax in, his head resting on your shoulder as you hold him. you'd only ever seen him cry a few times, but that was usually how you could tell he was past his breaking point. jax always perseveres, pushing forward. you're the slightly unstable, completely unhinged one. he's the calm, rational thinker.
"i don't blame you." you tell him, "i don't even blame tara, anymore. i blame stahl. it's her fault all this shit happened. had she not shot edmund, none of this would have happened."
he nods against your shoulder, then lifts his head. the kiss is unexpected, but not unwelcome or unwanted. the sex is fantastic, it always is with jax, but it just further complicates an already complicated situation. it doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what happened come morning when juice pops his head into the room to see how you're doing. he's hurt, but he understands to an extent. he loves abel. he loves you and by extension abel is part of you, so what's not to love? under normal circumstances, he knows this would not be an issue, but nothing about what's happening is normal.
he knows you're grieving, he knows as abel's father, jax can relate to your struggles more than anyone. what he doesn't understand, is why, even while in the midst of a divorce, the pair of you would do something like that. how despite this, he shoves his concerns aside, and closes the door, banging heavily on it to wake the pair of you. he doesn't avoid your eye, or not take your hand when you reach for his, or walk out of every room you walk into. he instead, keeps his mouth shut, and supports you. the guilt gnaws at you, and you spend the majority of the day avoiding jax, and he you (and juice).
after your night with jax, you brush your hair, actually get dressed, and spend the afternoon playing cards with juice, opie and happy, and try really hard to feel normal. it works for a few hours, until you find out that your son has been taken, again from his new adopted parents, and that they were brutally murdered in their hotel room. discovering jimmy was behind it surprises no one, but sets you into yet another tailspin. terrified of what could happen to him, terrified that jimmy would kill him if he got too annoying.
luckily, your fears never play out, because father ashby trades himself for abel. when jax walks back through the doors of the apartment you'd all been staying in, with abel in his arms you can't help the happy tears. shaky, holding your breath, hand over your mouth, you stare at your unharmed baby in jax's arms. seeing abel for the first time in what feels like an eternity is like a cold water shock to your system. when jax hands him over to you, letting you finally hold your son after weeks without him.
he smiles up at you, cooing softly, and reaching for your hair. it's like every bad, anxiety moment slips away. it doesn't matter that he was gone, all that matter's is that he's home, in your arms, surrounded by all the people who fought to bring him home, his family.
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IM ON HERE TO CELEBRATE YOUR 1000 FOLLOWERS 🎉🎉🎉 WOOOOT!
Can I pretty please request Jax Teller for prompt #14!?
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Thank you!!!!!
Masterlist
Insomnia
Contains: Very mild angst, fluff.
1.2K words
“My eyelids are heavy, but my thoughts are heavier.” - Unknown
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You couldn't begin to express how grateful the late nights were less late now that the club was out of guns and drugs. The only downside was that Jax and the rest of the Sons were now just mechanics, they had cars to fix and taxes to file, not meeting deadlines meant parts didn't get bought and paychecks weren't written.
Anxiety still lingered when Jax was away at night, a hold off from the worry that the next phone call would deliver the worst news one could get. Tonight was one of those nights, even though you knew Jax was safe, your brain wouldn't quiet.
The sound of a door opening drew you from your thoughts, "What are you still doing up? It's almost one."
You shrugged, "The usual. I can't sleep when your side of the bed is cold. Your dinner is in the microwave."
Jax gave you a soft smile, "Lucky me because I'm starving. Sit with me while I eat?"
You nodded, "That's my plan." Jax hurried to the kitchen and warmed his dinner before sitting next to you at the dining table, "Did you get all your work done?" 
"You bet, and I've got the whole weekend off so we can sleep in." You could smell the faint hint of oil on his clothes. 
"That's great news, you know how much I love our lazy mornings." If you were lucky, Abel would be there too, between you and Jax. 
"You and me both darlin. How was work?" He must have been hungry, half the food was already gone. 
"The usual." You yawned and Jax reached across the table to hold your hand, "I'm sorry, I guess I was just waiting for you to get home." 
Jax shook his head, "I'm almost done here. I'll hop into the shower then I'll be all yours." 
You sighed, "That sounds perfect." 
"How did Abel go at daycare today?" Jax loved all the pictures Abel drew for him, his locker, his office and his workstation were full of them. 
You smiled, "He had lots of fun today, they got a new water table and he went wild. I had to throw his tiny little shoes in the wash, that's how much fun he had." 
Jax chuckled, "I'll pick him up on Monday, I can't have you having all the fun darlin." 
"Sure, he loves it when you go and get him." You went to take Jax's empty plate from him, but he yanked it away. 
"I'll do that darlin." He rushed it to the sink before drying it and putting it away. Once that was done and he had wiped over the kitchen one last time, he walked back over to you and stretched out his hand, "Shall we?" 
You nodded and took his hand, "We shall." 
The trip to the bedroom was quick, and then Jax was stripping off and hopping into the shower, "You wanna get ready for bed darlin?"
You sighed, "I guess I better try and keep a routine, brushing my teeth and washing my face again won't hurt." 
Steam filled the room as Jax washed the day away and smirked when he caught you staring at him through the shower glass, "See something you like darlin?" 
You nodded, "You know I do Teller." 
The shower flicked off and he stepped out, wrapping the towel around his waist before stopping by the kiss you on the cheek on his way to the bedroom to get dressed. 
With his comfortable grey sweatpants on, he headed to the bed and flicked the heated blanket on your side before fluffing your pillow and peeling back the covers, "Hop in darlin." 
You took your robe off and placed it on the chair, leaving you in just one of Jax's T-Shirts and a pair of panties, then climbed into bed with a sigh, "It's so much better with you here. Maybe we should get a cat so when you're not here, I'm not alone in bed." 
Jax smiled, "I like that idea, we've got the room and it will be good for Abel to have a pet." 
You reached over to the bedside table and picked up the bottle of the lavender lotion but before you could do anything, Jax took it from you, "Let me?" 
You nodded, "I'd like that." 
He started with your arms, rubbing the smooth cream in with broad, firm strokes, "What do we need for a cat? Food, water fountains, a few litter trays and toys. Hell, with Happy's help, we can have one by Monday." 
He pinched your shirt and you pulled it over your head so he could do your shoulders next, "We need a bit more time than that. The kitty should have a catio, that will keep you busy over a few weekends and once that's build and the cat can enjoy the outdoors without killing anything we can get the kitty." 
The corner of Jax's mouth ticked up as he moved to your chest and a thought came over him, "We can tell Abel can't we? He'll want to help." 
Your eye grew heavy as you spun and his hands moved over your back, "Sure we can tell Abel. He'll want to name the kitten and he should come when we pick. Not that it means anything, the cat will pick us." 
You returned to facing him and Jax moved to your legs, rubbing the ache out of your claves, "You've already said you'll let the cat on the bed so I only have one rule, he or she has to stay away from my kutte." 
You chuckled, "You and I both know that's not going to happen, cats do what cats want." 
Jax sighed and placed the bottle back in its spot before picking your book up, "I guess so. How are you feeling now darlin?" 
You smiled, "Great, I'm ready to call it a night." You slid all the way into bed and placed your head on the pillow, "Will you read to me, I love the sound of your voice." 
Jax looked over you fondly, "Of course, darlin, that was my plan when I picked up your book." You had been reading it to him for days, a sweet tale of a little robot in search of life on Mars who made friends with an alien. 
"Rusty lifted his little arm and ticked as he handed the apple slice to his friend, 'Apples are one of human's favourite fruits, you should try some.' The alien took the slice from him with a squeak and ate it in one bite, then gave another squeak of approval at the sweet taste." 
You snuggled closer to Jax and he wrapped his arm around your body, "The Alien squeaked again, then waved its arms before pointing to itself and then to Rusty. The series of squeaks that followed sounded like the robot's name and then another which must have been its own." 
Your eyes felt so heavy as Jax continued, "It made sense when Rusty heard it for a second time, 'Your name is Eldredth? Tell me Eldredth, have you ever had chocolate? It is the best of the human's treats." 
Jax smiled as he felt your chest rise and fall softly under his arm. He put the book and laid down next to you, pressing a kiss to your forehead and pulling the blanket up to your neck, "Good night Darlin, I love you." 
Fin
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the-s1lly-corner ¡ 10 months ago
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Head rest (TADC edition)
No unfortunately I'm not quite ready to take on TADC requests again, they're not really in the same category as how I treat creepypasta at the moment, still a little teensy tiny apprehensive about opening requests for it... but I do kind of miss the characters..
Written on mobile
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CAINE:
He rests his head on your lap. He sees your lap is free and he just goes for it. It's a little commendable that hes so ready to risk facing rejection. Other times he might settle for leaning his head on your shoulder.. though his short height might have him resting against your arm. Actually I dont think he would stop at just the head. He drapes himself across your entire lap and laments about how tired he is. Hand over where his forehead would be and everything.. oh please please let him rest here! Just ignore how hes not going to sleep! Shush!
POMNI:
Shes too nervous and awkward to put her head on your lap, so when shes tired and starting to doze off she tends to lean against your arm before she realizes what's going in. Snaps away and awake only to lean back into you.. she'd rather you carry her to bed so she can sleep there and not have to bother you.. tends to do this after a rough day in the circus
RAGATHA:
She let's you rest her head in her lap whenever you want, just as long as shes not needing the space or has to get up soon. You dont have to be tired, you can do it whenever you want! She runs her fingers through your hair and braids some of it, massaging your temples while you mumble about anything and everything that comes to mind. She carefully moves you to her bed when you fall asleep
JAX:
Begrudgingly let's you lean against him or lay your head in his lap if you're tired. He might play with your hair, lightly flicking it and moving around. Though the second he hears someone coming hes going to quickly stand up, effectively having you fall onto the floor and face plant. He tries to play it off as if hes not embarrassed about being possibly caught being sweet..
KINGER:
Kind of freezes when you lean against him. Hes too scared to move, afraid that hes either going to wake you up or have you hit the ground. The fur of his coat comically fluffs, like a cats fur does when they're scared. Strokes your hair and tucks it behind your ear. He stays there until you wake up and move yourself. Hes trying so so hard to not move, to not jerk around or fidget.. it's so hard but he manages
ZOOBLE:
Regardless of who's laying on who it's not particularly comfortable... this is due to how zooble is shaped and them feeling like hard plastic.. though sometimes you can find some comfort leaning on their chest! Just ignore the noise your cheek makes when you peel it off of them.. your cheek is all red too. They usually read or zone out and think while you're holding them hostage.. they're a little wary about being seen like this but they aren't as harsh about it as jax
GANGLE:
If you leaned on her youd both collapse, so usually it's her wrapping her arms around yours and putting her mask against your shoulder. She practically weighs nothing so you can actually still move around with her hanging on to her, sometimes not even waking her up. Very embarrassed about it when she wakes up and realizes shes been koala hugging you for who knows how long
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